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jenniferspet · 2 months ago

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TW Threesome, Clown porn

Small Authors note: Not to happy with this one but I hope y’all enjoy. Happy Halloween 🎃

"Guys, I can't believe we're actually going to that haunted house," said Y/N, her voice a mix of excitement and apprehension.

"Come on, Y/N, it's just a bunch of actors in spooky costumes," Alex replied, trying to reassure her.

"Yeah, but you know the stories about the one on the outskirts of town," said Mark, his eyes wide with the thrill of potential horror.

"What stories?" Y/N's curiosity was piqued.

"Oh, you know, the usual," Mark shrugged, his tone nonchalant. "People say it's not just a simple haunted house. Some folks claim it's actually haunted by... real ghosts."

The group exchanged skeptical glances, but as they approached the dilapidated mansion, the air grew thick with a sense of unease. The lights flickered erratically, casting eerie shadows across the peeling paint and crooked shutters. The chilly October breeze seemed to carry whispers of untold secrets from within the decaying walls. Despite their bravado, the friends clung to each other tightly as they stepped through the creaking door.

Inside, the cacophony of screams and mechanical sounds filled the air, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter. The path wound through fog-filled rooms, each more unsettling than the last. Y/N's heart raced as she caught glimpses of the male and female clowns. They were both terrifying and oddly alluring, their makeup flawlessly applied to create a disturbing yet fascinating look. She couldn't help but feel a strange attraction to their mischievous smiles and piercing gazes, which seemed to follow her through the fog.

The male clown, tall and lanky with a chillingly painted face, had an air of dominance that sent a shiver down her spine. His red nose and sharp teeth gleamed in the dim light, and his eyes, framed by thick black lashes, bore into her soul. His partner, the female clown, was equally unsettling. Her hair was a wild tangle of colorful curls, and her eyes twinkled with a sinister amusement that seemed to promise a dark delight. Despite their menacing appearance, Y/N found herself drawn to their energy, a thrilling blend of terror and intrigue.

As they moved deeper into the house, the groups of friends grew more scattered. A particularly terrifying jump scare caused Y/N to stumble away from her group, her heart hammering in her chest. She turned to find the clowns standing side by side, their grins widening at the sight of her isolation. Her friends had vanished into the foggy abyss of the next room. Panic began to set in, but the clowns' eyes held a spark that suggested something more than mere fright awaited her.

The male clown reached out a hand, his fingers long and spindly, beckoning her closer. She took a tentative step, her breath catching in her throat. The female clown giggled, a sound that seemed to echo through the very walls, and took Y/N's other hand. They led her through a hidden door, the wood groaning in protest as it swung open, revealing a dimly lit chamber that was a stark contrast to the chaos of the haunted house.

The room was small and intimate, with walls covered in red velvet that felt almost alive to the touch. The floor was a sea of plush black, and the air was thick with the scent of musk and something sweetly floral, a scent that was at once comforting and unsettling. The clowns' grip tightened, and she found herself unable to resist the pull, as if she had been caught in a spell.

The male clown leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "Welcome to our special show," he whispered, his voice a gruff purr that sent a shiver down her spine. His hand trailed down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps. The female clown's laugh grew softer, her eyes gleaming with a predatory glint.

Y/N's heart raced, her palms growing clammy. She knew she should be afraid, but there was something about the way the clowns moved, the way their eyes searched hers, that made her feel... desired. The male clown's hand found her waist, and she gasped as his thumb stroked the sensitive skin just above her hip. The female clown leaned closer, her breath tickling Y/N's neck as she whispered sweet nothings that seemed to carry the weight of dark promises.

The tension in the room grew palpable, and Y/N's fear began to melt away, replaced by an unexpected arousal. The clowns' grips grew firmer, and she could feel their excitement, their anticipation of what was to come. The male clown's hand slid up to cup her face, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip, and she couldn't help but part them slightly, inviting him in. He took the cue, his lips pressing against hers in a kiss that was as much a declaration of intent as it was a gentle seduction.

Her body responded of its own accord, her hands reaching out to grip the male clown's shirt, pulling him closer. The female clown's fingers danced over her shoulders, sending shivers down her back. She felt her own power in this moment, the control she had over these two creatures of the night. They were here for her, to give her the thrill she craved, and she was eager to accept.

The kiss grew deeper, the male clown's tongue slipping into her mouth, tasting of something ancient and forbidden. His grip on her tightened, his other hand sliding down to palm her ass, his sharp nails digging in just enough to make her moan into his mouth. The female clown took this as an invitation, her own lips tracing a line down Y/N's neck, her teeth grazing her skin. The sensation was electric, and Y/N's knees went weak with desire.

The male clown's hands moved to the hem of her shirt, his movements deft and sure as he began to lift it. His eyes never left hers, holding her gaze with a fierce intensity that seemed to dare her to look away. The female clown's nimble fingers followed suit, her cold touch sending waves of heat through Y/N's body as she unhooked her bra, freeing her breasts. The air in the room seemed to thicken as they both stepped back to admire their handiwork, their eyes raking over her exposed flesh with a hunger that was both terrifying and thrilling.

"You're so beautiful," the female clown purred, her voice a sweet siren's song that made Y/N's heart flutter. "We're going to have so much fun with you."

The male clown's hands slid up Y/N's bare stomach, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin just beneath her breasts. She could feel her nipples harden in response to his touch, and she let out a whimper as the female clown's cold, painted mouth closed around one of them, her tongue swirling in a way that sent shockwaves through her body. The male clown chuckled darkly, his breath hot against her ear.

"You like that, don't you?" He murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through her very bones.

Y/N could only nod, the sensation of the female clown's mouth on her nipple sending tremors of pleasure down her spine. The male clown took advantage of her distraction, his hands continuing their exploration, unbuttoning her jeans and sliding them down her hips. He stepped closer, his body pressing against hers, and she could feel the hardness of his arousal through the fabric of his costume.

The female clown released her nipple with a wet pop, a line of saliva connecting her mouth to Y/N's skin. She slithered down to her knees, her eyes never leaving Y/N's, a mischievous grin playing on her painted lips. The male clown stepped back, allowing his partner to take the lead as she kissed a trail down her stomach, her tongue flicking out to taste the soft flesh. Y/N's legs quivered as the female clown reached the apex of her thighs, her fingers deftly parting the damp fabric of her panties.

The room was a whirlwind of sensation, the male clown's hands roaming her bare back, his nails digging in just enough to leave a trail of goosebumps as the female clown's tongue began to explore her most intimate area. The combination of the cold metal studs on the female clown's costume and the heat of her mouth was exquisite torture, and Y/N found herself pushing her hips forward, eager for more. The clowns' eyes met over her, a silent conversation passing between them that spoke of dark intentions and mutual enjoyment.

The male clown's hands slid down to her hips, his grip firm as he held her in place, giving the female clown free rein. Her tongue flicked and danced, finding the perfect rhythm to make Y/N's knees buckle. Y/N's breathing grew ragged, her eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure mounted, her body trembling with each stroke. The female clown's painted smile grew wider, her eyes gleaming with victory as she watched Y/N's reactions, her own excitement palpable.

Without warning, the male clown spun her around, his hands now cupping her breasts as he took her mouth in a bruising kiss. The taste of her own arousal on his lips was heady, and she moaned into his mouth. He pushed her back onto the table that she hadn't noticed before, the metal cool against her overheated skin. The female clown wasted no time, her mouth returning to its previous task, her tongue now lapping at Y/N's sensitive clit with an urgency that sent her spiraling towards the edge.

Y/N's eyes flew open as the male clown stepped back, revealing his own costume to be a mere guise for his true form. He had shed his oversized pants, revealing a long, thick cock that matched the rest of his terrifyingly alluring persona. The sight of him, so primal and powerful, sent a jolt of fear and excitement through her, and she couldn't help but whimper as he stroked himself, watching her reactions with a knowing smile.

The female clown, her mouth still occupied with Y/N's pleasure, reached up to tug at the male clown's costume. He allowed her to remove his shirt, revealing a lean, muscular chest adorned with intricate tattoos that seemed to dance in the flickering candlelight. His skin was cool to the touch, a stark contrast to the heat building within Y/N's core. The sight of him was like a dark fantasy come to life, and she couldn't look away.

With a final, lingering kiss to her inner thigh, the female clown stood, her eyes never leaving Y/N's. She stepped aside, giving the male clown full access to what he desired. He positioned himself between her legs, his cock standing tall and proud, a silent demand for her to submit. Y/N's eyes grew wide, a mix of fear and excitement clouding her judgment. But she was too far gone, too lost in the thrill of the moment to resist.

The male clown leaned in, his tongue tracing a path from her navel to her neck, his teeth grazing her skin just hard enough to leave a hint of pain. His hands gripped her thighs, spreading her wider, and she could feel his cock brush against her, thick and insistent. She gasped, her eyes locked on his, the anticipation unbearable. And then, with a single, swift movement, he pushed inside her.

The sensation was unlike anything she had ever experienced—a blend of fear and pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. His strokes were deliberate and deep, his eyes never leaving hers as he claimed her. The room was alive with the sound of their heavy breathing, the slap of skin on skin, and the occasional giggle from the female clown, who watched from the side, her own hunger evident in her eyes. Y/N's nails dug into the table as the male clown's pace grew more frantic, his movements powerful and unyielding.

Her body begged for more, her hips bucking up to meet each thrust. In that moment, she knew she wanted everything they had to offer, every depraved act they could dream up. She turned to the female clown, her voice strained with desire. "Sit on my face," she pleaded, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she had even fully formed the thought.

The female clown's smile grew wider, her eyes gleaming with excitement. She stepped closer to the table, her skirt riding up to reveal her own arousal, a dark wetness that glistened in the candlelight. Without hesitation, she straddled Y/N's head, her legs draped over the sides of the table, her painted toes curling in anticipation. The male clown chuckled, his rhythm never faltering as he continued to fuck her with an intensity that stole her breath away.

Y/N eagerly parted her lips, her tongue reaching out to taste the female clown's sweetness. The sensation of the female clown's sex pressing down on her face was intoxicating, and she felt a strange thrill knowing she was pleasuring this creature of the night. The male clown's grip on her thighs tightened, his pace increasing as he watched his partner's reaction. Y/N could feel the tension building within her, her body responding to the dual assault of pleasure from both clowns.

The female clown's musky scent filled her nose, a heady aroma that only served to drive her desire higher. She licked and sucked with a fervor she had never experienced before, her tongue delving deep into the other's core. The female clown's thighs tightened around her head, her moans growing louder with each pass of Y/N's tongue. Y/N could feel the clown's wetness seep into her mouth, the taste of her arousal adding to the intoxicating cocktail of emotions swirling within her.

As she brought the female clown closer to climax, the male clown's rhythm grew more erratic, his grunts of pleasure echoing through the velvet-covered walls. The room spun around her, the candles casting a strobe-like light across the scene of debauchery. The female clown's nails dug into her shoulders, her hips bucking as she rode Y/N's face, her movements growing more frantic with each passing second. The pressure inside her built, threatening to burst forth at any moment.

The male clown reached down, his hand wrapping around the base of his shaft, his thumb brushing against her clit with a precision that made her scream into the female clown's sex. The female clown's thighs tightened even more, her body shuddering as she reached her peak, her juices flooding Y/N's mouth. The male clown groaned, his hips jerking as he followed her over the edge, filling her with a warmth that seemed to fill every part of her being.

Y/N lay there, panting and trembling, her body still pulsing with the aftershocks of pleasure. The clowns stepped back, their grins now wide and genuine, their makeup slightly smeared from the passionate encounter. They were no longer the terrifying specters they had once been; they were two beings who had shared something primal and intense with her.

The male clown leaned down, his eyes searching hers for any signs of regret or fear. "How was that?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate in the very core of her soul.

Y/N took a moment to catch her breath, the tremors of pleasure still rippling through her body. "It was... amazing," she murmured, the words barely audible. She had never felt so alive, so consumed by a moment.

The male clown's smile grew even more sinister, if that was possible. "Ah, but what fun is a night of pleasure without knowing the names of your... entertainers?" He stepped closer, his hand still gripping his softening cock, the painted-on smile never leaving his face.

The female clown chuckled, her laugh a dark melody that danced around the room. She leaned down, her breath hot against Y/N's ear. "I'm Polly," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr. "And this handsome devil is my partner, Chaos."

The male clown, Chaos, gave a dramatic bow, his grin never fading. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, my dear," he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "We've been waiting for someone like you."

The female clown, Polly, slithered off the table, her movements liquid and graceful. She reached for her discarded clothing, her painted smile still in place. "We don't get many visitors who can appreciate the finer things in life," she purred, her voice thick with satisfaction.

Chaos followed suit, his cock now flaccid but still impressive. He picked up his oversized pants, sliding them back on with a wink at Y/N. "We're not like the other actors here," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "We like to offer... extra services to those who dare to seek them."

The sound of an intercom crackling to life interrupted their conversation. A staticky voice echoed through the chamber, calling for Polly and Chaos to return to their posts. The spell was broken, the reality of their situation crashing down around her. Y/N sat up, her eyes darting to the clock on the wall. "Shit," she murmured. "I have to find my friends."

Polly giggled, a sound that sent a fresh wave of arousal through Y/N's body. "Don't worry, darling," she said, her voice sweet as poisoned honey. "They're probably still wandering the house, scared out of their wits."

With trembling hands, Y/N pulled her clothes back on, the fabric feeling foreign against her sensitive skin. Chaos stepped forward, his movements fluid and predatory as he helped her fasten her bra. His eyes held hers, a silent promise of more to come. Polly handed her a small slip of paper, her grin never wavering. "For when you're ready to play again," she whispered, her eyes glinting with something that could only be described as evil mirth.

Y/N took the paper without a word, her mind racing. She couldn't believe what had just transpired. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, her body thrumming with the aftermath of the encounter. But she had to find her friends. She had to get out of this twisted wonderland before it swallowed her whole.

With a final shared look that spoke of unspoken agreements and the thrill of the forbidden, the clowns turned to leave, their laughter fading into the distant screams of the haunted house. Y/N took a deep breath, steeling herself for the task ahead. She had to find her way back to reality, to the safety of her friends' arms. But deep down, she knew she would never forget this night, the way the clowns had made her feel so alive.

Stumbling through the fog, her senses heightened and her body still humming with the echoes of pleasure, she managed to find her way back to the main path. The dim lights from the exit sign beckoned her, a beacon of normalcy in a sea of madness. As she approached the room where her friends had last been, she could hear their muffled laughter and the sound of their footsteps. The anticipation grew, a mix of fear and excitement for the questions that would surely come.

"Y/N! There you are!" Alex called out, relief etched on her face as she emerged from the shadows. The group gathered around her, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. "What happened to you? You've been gone forever!"

Her cheeks flushed, the warmth of embarrassment mixing with the lingering heat of arousal. She tried to formulate a lie, but her mind was a jumbled mess of clown smiles and whispered promises. Mark's eyes widened as he caught sight of the smudges of paint on her neck, the crimson and blue hues a stark contrast against her skin. "Looks like you had quite the fright," he said, trying to keep his voice light.

Alex raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking from the marks to Y/N's flustered expression. "Or quite the... adventure?" she suggested, her tone teasing.

The group shared knowing smirks, their eyes sparkling with curiosity. Y/N managed a shaky laugh, her voice strained. "Yeah, you could say that," she said, her heart racing as she tried to come up with an excuse for her absence.

"Well, you don't look too worse for wear," Mark said, his gaze lingering on her in a way that made her skin crawl. "But we're almost at the end. You didn't miss much."

Y/N tried to laugh along with her friends, her mind still reeling from the encounter with the clowns. She glanced back over her shoulder, hoping for one final glimpse of Polly and Chaos, but the fog had swallowed them whole. "I just... got lost," she stammered, her cheeks flaming under their curious stares.

The group continued through the house, the horrors feeling almost mundane in comparison to what she had just experienced. Y/N walked with a newfound awareness of her body, every step a reminder of the clowns' touch. The air grew cooler as they approached the exit, the fog outside seeming less menacing now that she knew the true monsters lurked within.

As they stepped out into the night, the sound of laughter and shrieks still ringing in their ears, Y/N couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. The haunted house was closing its doors for the night, and she knew that she was leaving a piece of herself behind in that velvet-covered chamber. Her friends chatted about their favorite scares, their voices a distant buzz in her ears as she replayed the night's events, her body thrumming with the memory of Polly and Chaos.

The cool autumn air was a slap in the face, a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the haunted house. She took a deep breath, trying to center herself, but all she could think about was the slip of paper in her pocket, the promise of more nights like this. Her friends were eager to leave, their adrenaline wearing off and the chill of the night seeping into their bones. They piled into the car, the ride home a blur of streetlights and shadows that danced across their faces.

Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that she had just walked away from something incredible, something that had touched her in a way she never thought possible. She kept her gaze out the window, watching the passing scenery, lost in thought. The clowns' whispers seemed to echo in her mind, beckoning her back to the velvet-walled chamber. The memory of their touch was like a drug, leaving her craving more.

#clown smut #clown x reader #halloween smut #monster fucker #would this be considered monster smut?

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coff33andb00ks · 5 months ago

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33 with Oscar please? It is August but I am READY for autumn and spooky season already!

"Are you a witch?"

driver + number = drabble <3

ahh autumn and spooky season how I adore thee!! i hope you enjoy ❤️

warnings/themes: not proofread, reader and/or oscar might actually be a witch, hints of dark!oscar, vague historical au of some type idk

suggested listening: Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac ('97 live)

When you met him, you were intrigued. Most men were intimidated by you, but not him. He was unflappable, his energy stoic, and in a sea of chaotic boys, it was nice to meet a man.

He didn't engage, he observed. Sometimes others would interact with him but his quiet nature tended to put them off, not that he seemed to mind. From what you noticed, he appeared to prefer being left alone.

You became enthralled.

You saw him - Oscar of Australia - everywhere, an ever present shadow in town, lingering like the mist in the mornings then disappearing when you actively looked for him. The season was changing and the mist grew deeper each night, the air crisper each time you took your nightly trek through the forest.

Hunter's moon. Withering plants. Trees shedding their brightly colored leaves.

The woods smelled of dirt and damp and you felt serene there, away from everyone and everything. There was an energy among the trees that you couldn't find anywhere else and so you were drawn to them every night, like all the luckless sailors lured by the siren's calls in the tales told by the fireside.

But unlike the unfortunate sailors, you were aware of the dangers.

Animals. Fearsome beasts that were docile when treated with respect. Unlike the so-called men in town, you much preferred the company of the bears and wolves roaming the forests, for they didn't attack unprovoked.

You were able to be free, untethered by the constraints of expectations while in town, where you were meant to behave as a lady.

The moonlight was dappled on the leaves scattered across the forest floor and you breathed in the mist that swirled around you. Owls in the distance called and the wind whispered through the branches, nature's music adding a bounce to your step. You were almost to the clearing when you heard it.

Snap.

Your heart went still and your steps ceased. Listening closely, you realized it wasn't an animal. At least, not the four legged kind. You strained to listen, and then you heard the whisper of a breath. You spun, searching the shadows, hand reaching for the dagger you kept on you.

Oscar stepped out into the moonlight, one corner of his mouth lifted into a slight smirk.

"Not going to stab me, are you?" he asked softly.

It was the first time he'd ever spoken to you directly. If you hadn't been so wary of his being in the woods - your woods, your safe place - you would have been shocked. Instead you relaxed a little, lowering your hand to your side. "No."

He looked at you, his smirk disappearing as his gaze slid over you, so blatant you could feel the heat of his eyes. "What brings you out at night?" he asked, moving closer, like a cat stalking its prey.

You refused to be scared. He was just a man. "I like the night."

"But you come out every night." He tilted his head, the moonlight glittering in his eyes.

Brown as the pine needles beneath your feet, strains of black like the dirt on your fingers when you gathered mushrooms.

"Are you a witch?" he whispered.

A small ripple of fear ran down your spine. You were well aware of what would happen if you said yes. So you turned the question on him. "Are you?"

Oscar hummed. "I'm many things at many times."

"You didn't answer the question," you whispered.

He leaned close, his cheek brushing yours as he brought his lips to yours. "Neither did you."

#inbox #f1 x reader #f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #drabbles #this was totally different from my usual writings but I'm quite proud?

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hippiegoth97 · 3 months ago

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Hangman's Joke: An Eddie Munson x Reader Halloween Special (The Crow AU) Part One

Collage by me :)

Masterlist

A/N: It's finally here, guys! I hope you all enjoy, I worked very hard on this one! And I have to thank @keikoraven for being the best beta reader in the world! I still have two parts to write, but I am ecstatic to get spooky season going!

Tag List: @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @userchai @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @bimbogorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog

@cxrrodedcoffin @queenimmadolla @kellsck @keeksandgigz

If anyone wants added/removed from tags please let me know <3

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, fem!reader, brief mentions of sex, mentions of sexual abuse/ritual abuse/child abuse, violence, blood, character death, murder, smoking, alcohol use, use of homophobic language, grief, angst, mentions of dead animals, mentions of threats, subjects concerning satanic panic

Word Count: 8.2k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part One

“People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right.”

October 30th, 1991

Hopper steps out into the crisp fall night, the air biting its way under the collar of his windbreaker. He shoves the door to his vehicle closed, flicking the ash of his cigarette with his other hand. “How bad is it?” He asks as Callahan and Powell approach him. There’s four other police vehicles parked out front of the Crystal Ridge apartment complex, the berries and cherries flashing across every surface in a choppy swirl of light and dark. Unmasked disgust reads on every officer’s face, though Hopper isn’t sure if it’s regarding the scene, or who the victims are inside.

“Well, it’s not good. And it’s certainly not going to ease any of the tension in town.” Powell replies with a sigh, shaking his head.

“No shit.” Hopper says flatly, tossing his half-smoked cig away. He walks toward the building, going up the front steps and down the hall until he finds the unit cordoned off with police tape. A few more officers are inside, snapping photos of the carnage, as well as snickering amongst themselves about ‘amusing’ items they find in the residence. All nudging elbows and scrutinizing fingers pointed at books and figurines on nearby shelves or tables, nevermind the bodies lying in the middle of the living room floor. “Something funny here, boys? Last I checked, murder isn't a goddamn joke.” Hopper barks, the mouths of his lower officers clapping shut all at the same time, their eyes widening at being caught in such an immature display. They resume their work in silence, snapping photographs of blood splatters and discarded weapons.

Hopper takes in the scene, focusing his attention on the victims first, as one should in these situations. Eddie and Y/N Munson, aged twenty-five and twenty-three, respectively. Married for two years, hopelessly in love since Hopper first caught them necking in Roane County Cemetery back in the fall of ‘82. Eddie, known to the Chief as the town’s resident metalhead and small-time drug dealer. Despite his intimidating exterior, Hopper knew he was a good kid who just happened to get into a bit of trouble every now and again. It made him rather proud to see Munson turn it around once he graduated in ‘86, becoming a mentor for troubled Hawkins youth with his Hellfire D&D Club.

And then there was Y/N, the Bonnie to Eddie’s Clyde. Dressed from head to toe in black leather seemingly since birth, paired with the sweetest, most welcoming smile. Hopper recalls the times she’d cover for Eddie whenever he got busted, and how easily he let them both go. A small twinge of reminiscence tugs the corner of his lip up, but only for a moment. Y/N became a librarian, encouraging the youngsters of the town to embrace literature and expand their developing minds. The kids absolutely adored her, like a spooky big sister who always had their back. There’s sure to be thousands of tiny tears when the news breaks tomorrow.

To see what’s now become of possibly the kindest people in Hawkins he’s ever known, it truly makes Hopper’s heart ache. He gazes upon their bodies, an unwelcome sting coming to his eyes. His pupils dart from place to place, unable to settle on any singular gruesome detail for too long. Their clothes are torn to shreds. Their limbs are splayed about in an eerily doll-like fashion, though their hands meet in the middle, as if to hold one another one last time. Thick, angry slashes and stabs puncture their skin. Clotting blood soaks the remnants of fabric and pools into the carpet below. Their eyes haven’t clouded over just yet, looking as if they’ll spring to life with a hearty laugh any moment now. Surely, they’ll sit up and shout ‘GOTCHA!’, revealing that this was all some twisted Halloween prank. Hopper hopes for it, even prays for it a moment. But the relief he wants never comes. There’s no bright blinking eyes, or smiling mouths, or their matching infectious laughter. It’s all been snuffed out of them completely.

A sudden choked gasp breaks the monotonous click and whirr of crime scene cameras, and a bloodied arm snatches at Hopper’s ankle. “Holy shit!” Jim yelps, wondering if his wish actually came true. His eyes snap to where the sound came from, finding Eddie gasping for air on the floor as a small trickle of blood flows from his mouth.

“H-Hop?” Eddie wheezes, his features frightened and confused. His thick curls stick to his cheeks in nests of coagulated crimson. Numerous cuts are visible on his chin, forehead, and just below his eyes.

“I’m here, kid. It’s gonna be okay.” Hopper replies, kneeling beside the young man. Eddie’s in real bad shape, so this promise is probably a lie. “We got a live one, boys! Get a medic in here!” Jim yells, snapping the other officers, who have been watching on in horror, into action. “We’re gonna get you outta here, kid.” Hopper takes hold of Eddie’s shaking hand, doing his best to comfort him.

“Where’s Y/N?” Eddie gargles out, trying to turn his head. Just as Hopper is about to lie to the young man again, the EMTs come in with a stretcher to wheel him out of here.

“She’ll be right behind you, Eddie. You’re both gonna be fine.” Jim reassures him, squeezing his hand, noticing the rapidly weakening grip of it. Not much longer now, he thinks. At least his pain will be over soon. The medics roll Eddie away, disappearing down the hall of the complex to reach the ambulance.

“You lied to him, didn’t you?” A redheaded girl says in the doorway, tears streaming down her cheeks. Max Mayfield, another familiar face.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Hopper replies, stepping to the right to shield her young eyes from Y/N’s corpse. He remembers seeing Max with the Munsons quite often, having formed a special relationship with them. Her own home life hasn’t exactly been peachy since she moved to Hawkins with her parents and stepbrother. Said inherited sibling has always been bad news, causing Hopper nothing but trouble for the last few years.

“I know. I saw the cars outside, and I know what people in town have said about the Munsons. But they aren’t like that…devil worshippers, or whatever.” Max states, rolling her eyes at the baseless accusation she’s heard thrown their way hundreds of times.

“I know that, kid.” Hopper sighs, stepping closer to her.

“She’s dead, right?” Max asks, looking down at her feet. Tears drip onto the tips of her converse, though she keeps the sobs inside.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” Jim answers, no need for polite truth-twisting now.

“Can I…say goodbye?” Max lifts her head up again, brushing a stray hair that’s escaped her ponytail behind her ear.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Hopper shakes his head, stepping closer to lead the girl away from the bloody mess. “C’mon, I’ll give you a ride home.” He offers.

“Okay. Thanks.” She nods, not bothering to sneak a morbid glance behind her as they walk down the hallway. They make their way outside, bypassing the other officers.

“Where you off to, Chief?” Callahan pipes up.

“I’ll be back, just dropping Ms. Mayfield at home first.” Jim answers without turning back, opening the passenger door to let the child hop inside. He closes it after her, going over to his side. “Maybe secure the perimeter properly before I get back, hm?” He suggests gruffly to his subordinate.

“You got it, sir.” Callahan chuckles dryly, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. “Hey.” He lightly smacks Powell on the chest as Hopper pulls out of the lot of the complex. “Secure the perimeter.” He orders unseriously, earning a scoff from his fellow officer.

“Give me orders again, and you can secure my foot in your ass.” Powell laughs, going about his business.

The drive to the Mayfield-Hargrove household is a quiet one, almost painfully so. Max is slumped in her seat, staring out the window at all the places her surrogate parents will no longer be able to visit or ride past on their motorcycle. The record store where they bought every piece of their extensive metal collection, of which they let Max borrow from whenever she liked. The ice cream shop they’d take her to after a nasty day at school or big fight at home. The cemetery where Y/N taught her how to do grave rubbings. She supposes they’ll both be buried there within a few days. At least I’ll be able to visit them again, she thinks, cursing herself for such a selfish thought. More tears pour from her eyes, hot and stinging. She sniffles, trying to hide the evidence on the sleeve of her hoodie.

“Here.” Hopper reaches over, popping open the glove compartment to reveal a collection of napkins from various fast food joints.

“Thanks.” Max says softly, reaches for a few of the napkins, closing the compartment afterwards. She wipes her eyes, blowing her nose. “I’m sorry for sneaking in. I just had to be sure.”

“Sure of what?” Jim asks, finding her phrasing rather odd. Like she knows something.

“Well, you know how this town’s treated them. The comments they got, the threats.” Max fiddles with her crumpled tissue.

“Sure do.” Hopper agrees.

“I’ve heard Billy talking about them a lot. The same satanic crap everyone else does, at first.” She pauses, further drawing Hopper’s attention. He glances at her, finding the napkin becoming shredded to pieces in her hands now. “But lately, I’d been hearing him talk with his friends about…’taking care’ of them. You know what I mean?” She looks at him now, appearing far more afraid than she did when Eddie was being carted away in his near-dead state.

“I do.” He nods, and her shoulders relax a little, as if she’s relieved to have someone believe her. It certainly isn’t outside of the realm of possibility that Billy had something to do with this, though Hopper highly doubts the little fucker acted alone. He almost never does when it comes to starting trouble. His shithead entourage is usually right on his heels at every wrong turn. Steve Harrington, Tommy Hagan, and Jason Carver. The four of them have spent their entire collective time in Hawkins wreaking all sorts of havoc. Drunken parties, even drunker fights, vandalizing police vehicles, getting frisky with nearly every young lady in town in various public venues. You name it, and those four have been busted doing it. Unfortunately, their status in town almost guarantees they never see as much as a few scant hours of community service. Hopper worries that brutal murder may soon be added to that list.

“Do you think he…did it?” Max asks, a mix of disbelief and realized terror in her voice.

“I don’t know, kid.” He replies as he pulls up to her house. “But, it’s my job to find out. Don’t you worry, I’m gonna catch whoever did this.” He says with resolve, hoping to bring the girl some comfort.

“I hope so. Doesn’t seem like anybody else wants to.” She says sadly, recalling how uncaring the other cops looked when she snuck past them in her quest to confirm the worst.

“Well, they don’t have much choice, since I’m in charge.” He laughs, earning a small giggle from Max as well. “Now, get inside. I’m sure your mom’s worried sick.”

“Probably.” She rolls her eyes. “Thanks for the ride, Hop. And for helping the Munsons.” She smiles at him, and he returns it. Max hops out of the car, and Hopper waits for her to make it inside before pulling away. He catches a small glimpse of Billy in the window, who’s wearing a far more smug smirk than usual.

“I’ve got my work cut out for me.” He sighs, pulling out a fresh smoke as he drives back to the crime scene.

“Where the hell were you?” Billy asks as Max comes into the house, shedding her damp jacket and setting her skateboard by the door.

“Nowhere.” She answers softly, hoping to avoid an altercation.

“Bullshit. Why the fuck was the pig Chief dropping you off?” He snarls, more than ready to take out the reaming he received from his father earlier tonight on Max.

“I was just…out. It started to rain, so Hop offered me a ride.” She rolls her eyes and shrugs, beginning to walk away towards her room.

“You went to see if those freaks were dead, didn’t you?” He asks cruelly, following her.

“They weren’t freaks! They were my friends!” Max snaps, turning to face her brother in the doorway.

“You know what they did, Max! They hurt that kid Pete Howell, made him do all sorts of fucked up satanic shit! Everyone in town knows about it!” Billy yells, stalking over to get in her face.

“That’s a lie and you know it! The Munsons would never do that! To anyone!” She shrieks back, taking a step forward. Billy looms over her, fury in his eyes.

“We all saw the bruises, Maxine! And other kids came forward, too! Eddie made all those Hellfire kids drink his blood and touch each other for his rituals! And don’t even get me started on that bitch, Y/N!” He continues to spew lies in a fervent rant, spit flying from his lips. “She gave kids books about witchcraft, encouraging them to put evil spells on each other and sacrifice their pets! I can’t even imagine what messed up shit those two got up to when they were together! Hell, they were probably just waiting for the right kid to come along so they could kill ‘em! It could’ve even been you!”

“Shut up!” Max screams, slapping Billy across the face with all her might to make him stop. He grunts in surprise at the pain, and a throbbing sting spreads through Max’s hand. Before Billy has time to react to what’s just happened, Max runs into her room and slams the door, locking it tight.

“Open this fucking door, Max! You know I’m right about them! You just don’t wanna see it! But you will! Once the cops go through all their shit, you’ll see how evil they really were!” Billy keeps it up, pounding his fist into the door. Max climbs onto her bed, pulling the covers over her head as fresh tears spring free. “You’ll see! And I’ll be right there to say ‘I told you so’! You’ll see them for what they were, just like everybody else has! Fucking freaks who needed to be put down! Savage animals who worshiped Satan! Do you hear me, Max? Do you?! You’ll fucking see!”

“Shut up. Shut up. It’s not true. It’s not. Shut up. It’s not true…” Max murmurs to herself over and over, covering her ears to block out the noise. She refuses to listen, she can’t let Billy’s words get to her. She can’t let the memories of Eddie and Y/N be soiled. Not by him, not by anyone.

Jim spends the rest of the evening overseeing the processing of the scene, ensuring every piece of evidence is bagged and labeled, leaving no stone unturned in the entire apartment. He can’t leave anything to chance if he’s going to catch these sick fucks. Looking over every detail more closely has made it very clear that no singular person could be responsible for this level of carnage. Y/N’s body has been wheeled away by the coroner, but the bloody outline of her remains on the floor. Eddie’s own became a little muddied when he was taken to the hospital, smudges and smears leading where they ought not to. Disconnection, a word that rings in Hopper’s mind as he studies it.

He receives the call a short time before things wrap up for the night, Eddie didn’t make it. He barely made it into an operating room before the blood loss took him out. Hopper supposes it’s better that way. Rather than Eddie get all cut open and stitched up again, only to find out his wife is gone. He doubts the young man would’ve been able to cope with the loss, or anyone, for that matter. Jim certainly didn’t take the death of his own daughter very well, it’s one of many reasons why he ended up back in this podunk town. At least now, (Hopper hopes, anyway), the Munsons will be able to rest peacefully with one another, no longer subject to the unbridled hatred they faced from their so-called neighbors. He imagines them in a far happier place, speeding around on their motorcycle, blasting heavy metal from the portable stereo strapped to Y/N’s hip, riding down a long, winding road to that great big D&D campaign in the sky. If Jim hadn’t become rather disillusioned with religion, he could almost believe it.

After Hopper has dismissed everyone, he stops by the corner store to pick up a six-pack to indulge in once he arrives home. He spends the short drive struggling to hold the anger and tears in, he’s already spent hours keeping up the stoic act that’s required of him. Add on top of that the immense frustration that came from his lower officers besmirching the badge with their careless conduct tonight, and he’s about ready to punch a damn hole in the wall. The moment he makes it through the door to his place, tosses his hat and jacket to a chair in the corner, and sinks down onto his sofa, he can’t hold it back any longer. A choked sob escapes his trembling lips, a harsh breath sucked in right after it. His shaking hands fumble with one of the beers, struggling to push the tab open. When his finger slips a couple times too many, he drops the can onto the floor in defeat, his head falling forward into his hands. He cries softly, still hanging onto the idea that his manhood might be in jeopardy if he lets out the wails he’s got chained up inside. He just sits, eyes scrunched closed tight as tears spill from them, his chest heaving in thick, noiseless bellows as he mourns.

In an odd way, he had become a bit of a father figure to the Munsons over the years. Neither of them had much in the way of loving homes, except for Eddie’s uncle Wayne. But the poor man worked a lot, leaving Eddie to fend for himself most of the time, though it wasn’t really his fault. Wayne provided everything he could for the boy, until cancer took him unexpectedly in ‘88. Shit, that day was sunshine and lollipops compared to this one. The preceding funeral was small, only attended by Eddie and Y/N, himself, and a few of Wayne’s coworkers from the plant. Eddie kept things short and sweet, just the way his uncle liked it. Afterwards, the three of them went to the Hideaway for a couple drinks. Hopper ignored Y/N’s use of a fake ID, given the circumstances, as well as being off-duty. There wasn’t a dry eye between them, though warm smiles graced their lips regardless as they recalled happy stories of Wayne through the years.

Hopper slowly wipes his hands down along his face once he gets ahold of himself. He picks up the dropped beer, surely it can’t blow up on him after sitting for so long. He cracks it open despite his tear-blurred vision, and chugs it down like bitter medicine to drown his sorrows. It warms his belly instantly, foaming up into a loud belch once he’s swallowed. He sighs, feeling just a little bit better. He supposes the rest of the pack should finish the job, at least for tonight. He sits back on the sofa, clicking the remote to the TV and hopes something is on this late. He grabs a second beer from the bundle. The hiss of the seal breaking seems to hush his thoughts, like a kind woman comforting his uneasy mind. The first sip is like a tender kiss, dizzying his head and warming his body up from the inside out. “Shit, I really need to get laid.” Hopper thinks aloud to himself, not exactly intending to put much effort into such a task. Oh well, nothing another sip couldn’t fix.

A few months earlier…

“We’ve got another one.” You say as you pick up what must be the fiftieth dead animal that’s been left outside the door to your apartment. It’s a pigeon this time. But you’ve found mice, squirrels, rats, frogs, a couple cats, and even a raccoon laid out for you in this very spot before. It’s been happening for months, both before the accusations leveled against you and Eddie, and even more so after.

“Shit, again?” Eddie sighs, scrunching his nose as you hold the pigeon by its feet. Its neck has been snapped, a dribble of blood coming from its beak. “That’s the third one this week.” He leaves you alone with it for a moment, retrieving a plastic bag from the kitchen. “And we’re the ones accused of hurting little critters like this one.” Eddie scoffs in frustration on his journey back to you. “Maybe we should call Hop again.” He offers as he holds the bag open for you to put the poor animal inside it.

“There’s no point, Eds. Even if they catch whoever is doing this, someone else will surely take their place.” You reply in resignation, letting the bird plop into the bag with a dull rustle. Eddie ties it off, the two of you going back to the kitchen. He tosses the pigeon in the trash, and you both wash your hands. You would bury the animals, out of respect, but living in an apartment doesn’t exactly allow for burial sites. Not to mention said animal cemetery would fill up pretty fucking quickly with how many new additions show up on your welcome mat.

“It would be better than doing nothing.” Eddie huffs, drying his hands with a towel.

“Let’s face it, love. This town hates us. Always has. Always will. If we get Hop involved, all it will do is show them that they’re getting to us. Then they win.” You reason, though it would be untruthful to say the ongoing torture you’ve both endured isn’t getting to you. But the narrow-minded people of this town don’t need to know that. If anything, the intense urge to carry on out of spite drives you to keep the discomfort to yourself. Outside the walls of your own home, that is.

Neither you or Eddie are strangers to torment. Even back in your school days, all kinds of nasty names would be thrown your way in the halls of Hawkins High. You’d found refuge in each other pretty quickly back then. You were a budding little freshman, and Eddie was a junior barely skating by in all his classes. From the moment your eyes met, you were both total goners. Eddie’s wild curls and boisterous attitude sent you careening head over heels, and your dark style dragged him down the same road right alongside you. Your shared love for metal music and all things nerdy deepened your connection, further weaving you together as a gleaming example of true love, soulmates. You got each other, when no one else did.

Your bond has only grown stronger over the years, sturdy roots set in your hearts. You helped Eddie study when ‘86 was his last chance to graduate, which was quite a task in itself. Despite your rebellious style and interests, you’re quite the bookworm. You were patient with him, keeping him on track with sweet kisses and touches as ‘rewards’ for doing so well, among other things. In turn, he spoiled you to no end, taking you on sweet dates and presenting you with whatever new book you’d been eyeing lately. And you always had each other’s backs when bullies came your way. Silver tongues have served your mouths well, and a defensive punch on one another’s behalf didn’t hurt, either.

And, until recently, your shared adult lives have been better than you ever imagined. You moved in together right after graduation, finally free from unfair curfews and sneaking in through bedroom windows. Eddie got himself straightened up, ending his dealing days and getting a job as a mechanic, while still mentoring the Hellfire club on the side. Meanwhile, you have quickly established yourself as the coolest librarian Hawkins has ever seen. The library has never had such a wide selection of horror and fantasy, everything the kiddos love, despite their parents’ protests. They also happen to love you, for encouraging their curiosity and creativity.

When Eddie popped the question a couple years ago, you were over the moon. It was a beautiful Halloween Wedding, with you in a black gown as you stood at the altar with Eddie in a field littered with colorful leaves. Hopper was kind enough to officiate, and Wayne and all the kids you care so much about were in attendance. Your own parents refused their invite, having long-since rejected you for your ‘un-Christian ways’. So, Wayne did the honor of giving you away, which meant the world to you. The ceremony was short and sweet, and after some simple sandwiches and cake in the park, Eddie whisked you off in his arms to enjoy the perfect honeymoon at home. Nothing but fucking for a solid week straight, all of which was the ultimate mix of affectionate and wild. Neither of you would’ve had it any other way. Every single second of your entire relationship has felt like the easiest thing in the entire world, bringing you nothing but happiness.

What you’ve been subjected to lately, though, is far from easy. As has been said, you’re no stranger to mistreatment. You don’t get through life looking the way you do, liking the things you like, without earning a few dirty looks and unseemly comments. It comes with the territory. But the last few months are nothing you’d ever expected.The stares and verbal jabs are there, alright. But then there’s the graffiti on your front door, poorly drawn pentagrams and misspelled swears. The dead animals, delivered to your door numerous times a week. Broken mirrors on your shared motorcycle if it’s parked on the street a little too long. Books stolen from the library that you later find burned by the dumpsters out back. Calls for books to be outright banned and removed from the library due to ‘satanic or inappropriate material’, all of which have thankfully been dismissed by the Mayor and any other officials involved. Freedom of speech wins out, for once. Although it doesn’t mean much, when everything has only escalated since the Pete Howell incident.

Pete Howell was a freshman member of Eddie’s Hellfire Club, a sweet young kid who has a similar homelife to your own. Unloving parents, who usually don’t pay much attention to him…unless he’s in trouble. They’re far more attentive then, so to speak. That’s how this whole thing started. Pete came to school last month with far more bruises than usual, ones he couldn’t write off as clumsy mishaps. When questioned by teachers, and Eddie, he vehemently denied anyone did anything to him. He said he ‘fell going down the stairs’ and would be fine. Knowing that was clearly bullshit, Eddie did the right thing and asked Hopper to look into it.

Someone must’ve tipped off Mr. and Mrs. Howell that he was coming, because by the time he knocked on their door, they had the whole story cooked up for him. They claimed that Eddie had brought him to your apartment after a D&D session, and the two of you made him engage in all sorts of vile acts. Ritual sacrifice, spellcasting, and various sexual activities as a means to summon the devil. Hopper didn’t buy a word of it, he knows you both far too well to think you’d ever be capable of such a thing.

To be properly thorough, he had a doctor check Pete out, ask him more questions. While there was no evidence of sexual abuse, Pete started singing a far more zealous tune than he was before. He screamed bloody murder about all the evil things you’d done to him, how scared he was, how much you hurt him. It made you sick to your stomach when Hopper came around to warn you that he had no choice in searching your place for evidence. To think that anyone would accuse you or Eddie of doing such disgusting things, it sent your heart sinking like a stone in your chest. In order to clear up this ridiculous matter, you allowed the police to go through all your belongings, and answered every single question they asked. Hopper thankfully kept the reporters at bay, but it didn’t take long for the populace at large to spread the rumors like wildfire.

The couple of weeks during the investigation were absolute hell. You could barely leave the apartment without a police escort, and whichever officer you were assigned at the time seemed less than enthused to assist you. When you did dare to step outside, cameras were on you immediately, as well as a sea of recognizable faces shouting and screaming at you. Calling you a whore of the devil, a witch, a monster, saying similar things to Eddie as well. These were people you’d known your entire life, and they turned on you with very little resistance. The fanatical preachers, trashy tabloids and exaggerated news stories breaking out across the country certainly didn’t help.

When you and Eddie were finally cleared of any wrongdoing, things only got worse. There were demands for Hopper’s badge, or his head, as well as yours. What they did get was Eddie’s banishment from school property. ‘To be on the safe side’, as Principal Higgins put it. Pete has stuck to his story since then, you imagine under threat of being beaten even harder next time. You don’t blame him, he’s just a scared, hurt child. His parents have garnered mountains of support from the community, who have come together in an effort to drive you and Eddie out of town, by any means necessary. Threatening phone calls at all hours and vulgar letters slipped under your door have joined the mix now, to a point where you’ve left the phone unplugged, and taped the bottom of your front door to prevent the letters from fitting under it. You often have nightmares of people breaking into the apartment, and hurting you or Eddie. It’s become difficult to get much sleep, without Eddie having to hold you close and coo sweet nothings as you cry. It makes you feel like you’re going insane at times, your mind left searching as to how people who once seemed rational could act in such a way. Satan is on everyone’s mind these days, and their devil detectors are now permanently poised directly at you.

“I’m just so tired of being scared all the time. I worry about you every time you walk out that door, or when I do. I'm afraid that one day, one of us might not make it back at night.” You find yourself breaking down again, tears welling and lips trembling. You turn away, frustrated with losing what little control you have left. You ball your fists at your sides as you choke on anguished sobs. Eddie’s arms wrap around your middle as your eyes squeeze shut, his chest meeting your back with a welcome warmth.

“I’m scared too, sweetheart. Every time I drop you off at work, I spend every second hoping I don’t get a call or visit from Hop at the shop.” Eddie says softly, holding back his own tears. His hands find yours, loosening the knotted knuckles. He slowly makes you face him, his heart breaking at the redness of your face, the hopeless expression it carries. It kills him that he can’t do more for you, to protect you. He’s suggested buying a gun a couple of times, but you always refuse. He’s not exactly a fan either, but what else can he do? He intertwines his fingers with your own, keeping you close. “All we can hope for is that this will all blow over soon. Then we won’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“I know, love. I just wonder how long they’ll keep it up.” You reply, sounding utterly defeated.

“They’re bound to get tired of it eventually. Until then, we’ve got each other. We’ll be okay, angel.” Eddie assures you, pulling you further into his arms.

You sigh, welcoming his embrace. “I really hope you’re right, babe. Not sure how much more of this I can take.” You press your cheek into his chest, unable to quell the ever-growing uneasiness brewing inside you.

October 31, 1991

“We’ve got them all set up for you, Chief. Whenever you’re ready.” Powell says as Hopper steps out of his office, having sent the cavalry to pick up a certain group of young men who sit at the top of his suspect list.

“Perfect. I’ll start with Hargrove.” Hopper smiles, chugging the rest of his black coffee, handing the mug off to Callahan. I’m gonna enjoy this, he thinks to himself as Powell leads him to the interrogation room. Their footsteps land on the linoleum with purpose, closing the distance between him and where the suspected ringleader in all this is being held. Jim sincerely hopes Billy gives him a good reason to manhandle him a little bit, some well-earned payback for what he’s done. His fist balls up of its own volition at the thought, his fingernails nearly drawing blood as they press into his palm. He closes his eyes and takes a very deep breath once he and Powell reach the door, letting it out nice and slow like his officially-mandated therapist showed him.

“You good, Chief?” Powell asks, his hand trained on the doorknob as he awaits Hopper��s go-ahead.

“Never better.” Jim opens his eyes again, nodding to the officer. “Let’s do it.” With that, Powell opens the door, stepping inside with Hopper right behind him. “Know why you’re here, kid?” He asks Billy, not wasting any time. The young man is sitting in a stiff chair on one side of the table in the room, legs spread wide in tight blue jeans. A matching jacket rests over the back of the chair, leaving him in a ratty old t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his muscles and tattoos.

“Not a clue.” Billy bites, crossing his thick arms. “Mind filling me in?” He asks with a smirk, adjusting in his seat. There’s not a lick of fear struck within him, only annoyance. As if being questioned about a serious crime is only a minor inconvenience to his day. Hopper has brought him in here many times before, but usually for far more petty things. He’d like to think any normal person would be at least a little bit nervous in this scenario. The completely unbothered demeanor Hargrove holds sends a chill scurrying up his spine.

“No problem.” Hopper grins back, already forgetting all the anger management techniques Linda has shown him. He drops a manila folder onto the table, opening it to face Billy. “As you know, Eddie and Y/N Munson were murdered last night in their apartment. Pretty gruesomely, if I might add.” Jim spreads the crime scene photos out across the table, letting the kid have a good long look, searching for a reaction. But Billy’s eyes barely flick down for a glance, deepening the unsettling feeling in Hopper’s stomach.

“What’s that gotta do with me?” Billy asks, shrugging his shoulders. His lip is fixed stiff, eyebrows drawn downward to evoke confusion. But Hopper isn’t buying it.

“Why don’t you tell me? Where were you last night?” Jim asks.

“I was out with friends.” Billy answers coldly.

“Which friends?” Hopper continues, hoping to make the kid slip up in his quick succession of questions. The method usually works out pretty well for him.

“Tommy, Steve, and Jason.” Billy answers just as quickly, his eyes barely blinking as he keeps up just fine.

“And what were the four of you doing?” Hopper questions.

“Drinking beers, hanging out.” The young man responds.

“And what time was this?”

“I dunno, man. All night, probably?” There it is, a flash of uncertainty. Hopper can use that.

“Probably? I’m gonna need you to be more specific.” Jim smiles, hoping whatever lies Billy’s got lined up will start to crumble.

“Do I look like I wear a watch? I don’t know how long it went on for. But we stayed at Steve’s all night, our girls were there, too. You can ask them.” Billy snaps, losing that cool, calculating exterior.

“Oh, you bet I will.” Hopper chuckles, feeling a little too much satisfaction at making the kid crack just a bit. It’s the small victories that matter in life, after all. If he keeps at it, with the other boys, too, he’s almost certain he can nail them for this. “You wanna know what I think?” Jim asks, hoping to goad a few more mistakes out of Billy before taking a run at the other three.

“What?” Billy scoffs, rolling his eyes.

Hopper stands up, leaning as far over the table as he can reach. His face sits centimeters away from Billy’s, and the proximity seems to shake the kid up just the tiniest bit more. “I think you and your psychopathic little friends were real upset when I found no evidence of the Munsons doing what everyone claims they did. So, you decided to take matters into your own hands. They certainly suffered enough harassment and threats. Someone was bound to get fed up pussy-footin’ around and do what everybody in this town has wanted to. I think you rounded up your boys, and finished the job. I think you broke into the Munson’s home, you tortured them, and then you killed them. That’s what I think.” Jim resists the urge to spit in the young man’s face, backing off and sitting down in his chair.

Billy sits with the accusation for a moment, before bursting out laughing. It’s certainly not the reaction Hopper was expecting. “That’s quite a theory you got there, Chief!” He hollers, pounding his fist on the table as if he’s just been told the funniest joke in the entire world. “You’ve got a real sick sense of humor, I like it.” He chuckles as he calms himself down. Deep red amusement colors his cheeks and throat. “Too bad you can never prove it.” He sighs loudly, pretending to be disappointed. “Like I said, I was with my boys, and my lady, havin’ some drinks. I’d tell ya more, but I doubt you wanna hear the details of my sex life.” He laughs callously, before continuing. “Now, even if I did kill those freaks, I doubt anyone will miss them.” His smile grows a little, revealing the joy in his words. “We all know what they were, what they were capable of.” He speaks slowly, baiting Hopper into losing his cool.

“And what would that be?” Jim asks, daring the little fucker to say another word about them.

“They were a couple of evil devil worshippers, posing a threat to this community! A community you’re meant to be protecting, Hopper!” Billy shouts as he stands, his chair sliding back. “You know what that witch bitch and her faggot husband did to Pete Howell! And you did nothing about it!”

“I did my job.” Hopper bellows back, getting to his feet. “I searched their apartment, I made them feel like criminals to put this ignorant town at ease! I had Pete checked out! I did everything I was supposed to, you insolent fuck! I couldn’t find a damn thing to back up this bullshit you and everybody else continue to spew all over the place!” His voice raises more and more with every sentence.

“Chief.” Powell says quietly, hoping to get his boss’s attention. But Hopper pays him no mind. In fact, he goes around the table to get at Billy, quickly leading him backwards by the collar to slam into the wall.

“They were good people! They never hurt anyone! Even in the face of all this hatred you hurled at them, they still managed to be kind! Which is more than I can say for you, or anyone else in this godforsaken town!” Jim shouts in the young man’s face, earning no reaction besides that same stupidly smug smirk. He breathes heavily, still gripping Billy’s shirt in his hands.

“I’d like my lawyer now.” Billy says coolly, having lured Hopper right into his trap. He’s aware of the close relationship the Chief had with the Munsons, so it was easy enough to exploit. No way a judge will convict him now, not after the investigating officers have gotten physical with him. Add on his rock-solid alibi, and he probably won’t even see any charges.

“Fuck.” Hopper sighs, his head falling to look at the floor once he realizes what he’s done. He can kiss justice for Eddie and Y/N goodbye. His hands slowly release Billy’s shirt, and he turns away to have a fucking breather before he goes for his next opponent.

The other young men provide the same story to Hopper, asking for lawyers shortly after their almost identical retellings. Things were already not looking good after his outburst earlier, and it’s only getting worse as the night wears on. As predicted, the ‘girls’ in question for the alibi 一Nancy Wheeler, Carol Perkins, Vicki Carmichael, and Tina Johnson一 all corroborate Billy’s tale. The lawyers and parents give him an earful or two, and he’s left with four empty interrogation rooms and no arrests by the end of his shift. He goes home feeling even worse than he did yesterday, picking up two six-packs on the way home this time. Time will tell if he’s ever able to recover from this, but as one of Y/N’s gag oracles would say: ‘outlook not so good’.

October 30th, 1992

Inky clouds flood the night sky as the hour grows late, small blooms of light from the full moon willfully piercing the thick blanket in defiance. Max sits cross-legged before Y/N’s grave in Roane County Cemetery, scrubbing red spray-painted graffiti from it with a soapy sponge. She dips the sponge in a bucket beside her to refresh it, ignoring the knot tied up inside her at what the defacement says. ‘Burn in Hell Bitch’. An accompanying message still sits untainted on Eddie’s, ‘Burn in Hell Fag’.

“They could’ve at least bothered to put the commas in.” A low voice speaks from behind Max, startling her. She turns around, finding Hopper standing a couple feet away. He wears a sad smile beneath his wide-brimmed hat, coming closer to her. “Want some help?” He asks, groaning slightly as he joins her on the moist grass.

“Yeah.” Max replies, nodding. “Thanks.” She reaches into the bucket, handing him the sopping piece of foam. “I swear, every time I clean this shit off, someone comes along and puts something else in its place. I’m sick of it.” She expresses her frustration, feeling free to do so in Hopper’s presence.

“You and me both, kid. But I’m sure the Munsons appreciate you lookin’ after them.” Jim says, rubbing away at the ‘F’ on Eddie’s headstone.

“I can’t believe it’s already been a year.” Max says sadly, low roars of thunder rumbling through the clouds above.

“Me either.” Hopper sighs, scraping a little harder now. It’s the least he can do, given how miserably he failed at catching the killers. He’s barely been by to visit since the funeral, too twisted up with guilt to bear looking at these very stones. The epitaphs are simple, yet capture exactly who the Munsons were. ‘Loving Wife (or Husband), Caring Friend, and Free Spirit’.

Hopper remembers being tasked with handling their final arrangements, no living kin of theirs was interested in doing so. He allowed Max to help a little, choosing flowers and program designs. Small stuff, so Hopper himself could handle the hard part. Like selecting coffins, and deciding what these very graves would say to whoever may visit them. Max picked black dahlias, Y/N’s favorite. Jim also let her inside the apartment once the mess was cleaned up to find clothes for them to be buried in. He initially worried if it would’ve been too morbid for such a young girl, but she knew them well enough to select exactly what they would’ve wanted. A sleek black leather dress for Y/N, and a nice black shirt and clean matching jeans for Eddie. Hopper even made sure their wedding bands were released from evidence, and any other significant pieces Max could think of. He didn’t want to leave them incomplete before they were laid to rest. No one at the station seemed to mind, having already washed their hands of the case before the ground could break to bury the Munsons.

The funeral itself was a small affair. Only Hopper, Max, a non-denominational minister, and the few kids in town who weren’t banned from going were in attendance. The proceedings were peaceful, though, thankfully free from any protesters. Everything was kept short and sweet, the way the Munsons would have wanted it. Jim doubts they would’ve cared for a drawn-out sobfest, quite the opposite. They would’ve wanted whoever cared to show up to remember them as they were. Two sweet, loving, hilarious, eccentric, beautiful people who made the world so much brighter just by existing in it. So, that’s what he did. When the bodies were lowered into the ground, Hopper walked the kids to the ice cream shop, and everyone took turns telling their favorite memories of their lost friends. There were lots of laughs and tears, leaving the day feeling unbearably bittersweet. Just the way Y/N and Eddie wanted it to be.

“Is it weird that I talk to them sometimes?” Max asks, breaking the silence. She doesn’t look at Jim, worried he may judge her.

“Not at all. I used to talk to my Sarah sometimes.” Hopper says, dipping his sponge in the bucket. “She was my little girl…” He trails off, wondering how much he should tell her. “She got sick, and we did everything we could for her. But it wasn’t enough.” He adds, letting out a low sigh.

“I’m sorry.” Max says, looking at him now.

“Don’t be, it was a long time ago.” He shakes his head, forcing a smile as he returns to scrubbing.

The two of them keep going until all the offending red is washed away, leaving Y/N and Eddie looking spotless once again. They speak casually, passing the time in one another’s company, ignoring the flashes of lightning that periodically screech across the sky. Max dumps the bucket out once the work is done, wringing the sponges out thoroughly. “Mind giving me a ride home? Looks like it’s gonna rain.” She asks, peering up uneasily at the stormclouds.

“Sure, kid. I’ll even get you some grub on the way.” Hopper agrees, taking hold of the bucket to carry it for her.

“BK?” She asks hopefully, pouting her lower lip out.

“You got it.” Hopper chuckles, finding a smidge of Sarah in Max’s feigned puppy eyes. “C’mon, we’d better beat this rain.” He takes her hand in his free one, and they walk together out of the cemetery just as the first drops start to fall.

The clouds grow thicker, claps of thunder and strikes of lightning clashing in the sky like a raging battle of the gods is taking place. A lone crow flies overhead the newly cleaned headstones, its caw barely audible over the storm. It lands on Y/N’s grave as the rain begins to pour in curtains, ruffling its shiny feathers, pecking at the newly-washed stone with its obsidian beak. It lets out another caw, tilting its head side to side in curiosity as it peers at the ground. A booming rumble breaks through the air, followed by a bright white streak of lightning piercing the earth where the woman lies resting. The crow caws again, and the ground begins to groan and wheeze as it shifts. Bulging rolls form beneath the green grass, rippling in thick waves.

The bird makes its call one final time, a crack suddenly splitting the earth open in a tangled mess of dirt and roots. A puddle quickly pools in the hole, mud sliding down inwards. And a twitching hand springs up out of the grave, clawing for purchase on the slick edge of the rift with black painted fingernails.

To Be Continued…

#hippiegoth97 #fanfiction #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #hangman's joke #the crow 1994 #the crow au #90s #hawkins #eddie munson x goth!reader #satanic panic #halloween #spooky season #eddie munson x fem!reader

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werecreature-addicted · 5 months ago

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I WANT A HALLMARK HALLOWEEN MOVIE. Put in the same energy as they do in their Christmas ones.

Like I know they did do Halloween movies a couple years ago but it’s not what the people want.

Those are like almond mom Christian movies that take the fun out of the spooky month.

I want coco to be replaced by pumpkin spice. Snow replaced by fallen leaves.

Girl moving into a small town and somehow finds herself at the widowed lumberjacks barn who turns out to be Frankensteins monster or moth-man.

I don’t want a Christmas prince! I want a Halloween prince. Where we get married on Halloween and by some lazy writing our baby is born on Halloween!

Decorating the Christmas tree with the town bad boy? I want to carve pumpkins with the loner werewolf.

I want that corny romance stuff. With a sprinkle of Halloween spirit of spooky miracle. Idfk.

I doesn’t even have to be hallmark that does it. There are tons of other small studios that make those kinds of movies. I just Halloween girlies to feel special.

busy businesswoman from New York City is back home for her small hometown's annual Halloween Festival/ Parade/ Celebration. She thinks Halloween is corny and for kids but also her birthday is October 31st- a fact she tries to keep secret from the rest of the town although her family eventually lets it slip.

she has a meet ugly where the town handyman jump scares her with a plastic skeleton Halloween decoration and she trips back and falls into a puddle of mud ruining her busy business suit! the man isn't a bad guy though and he gives her a change of clothes and hey- she actually looks better dressed down out of that stuffy suit.

She's still pissed though and is in the middle of threatening him with the dry cleaning bill when her Execntic Uncle/ grandpa/ town old man walks in and officially introduces the two. Definitely not a werewolfman, who's been doing all this work setting up the town Halloween festival and Female Lead Back from the big city for the holiday and for some convoluted business reason too. even though they might not like each other now they have to at least be polite for the sake of this weird random old man they both know.

It becomes clear that Definitely Not a werewolfman is too kind for his own good and keeps trying to make everyone happy by promising impossible things at the Halloween festival and puts off planning and arranging things to play with kids and drink warm apple cider with old ladies so Female Lead has to step in with her busy business skills and get things in order, things start to fall into place and hey- they make a pretty good team. and even if Werewolfman isn't as serious as her new york boys...maybe that's a good thing.

They spend the night eating pumpkin spice cookies and drinking hot chocolate while making paper bat banners for a parade float and share a kiss. things are going great until oh no!! it turns out he's a werewolf and transforms in front of her.

she is inraged he never told her this huge secret over the week that they've known each other. She doesn't care that he's a werewolf- she cares that he lied to her and the town. Then she gets a call from Business Inc. back in New York. they need her back in town TOMORROW but- tomorrow is Halloween. what will she do? will she choose the town that accepted her and the Halloween festival she worked so hard on? or job?

Werewolf man sets off the festival and it's a huge hit but the whole time he's looking for Female Lead but can't find her...she must have gone back to NEEEEEW york... but then someone jumps out at him with a plastic skeleton it's Female Lead!! she staid after all and has been at the party in a Halloween costume. something she swore she'd never wear. he apologizes for hiding the fact he's a werewolf from someone he's known for less than a month. she says she's quit her job and is staying in town with him. they kiss and say i love you. then he pulls her away from the party to make a wish on a small cupcake with a candle on it- it is her birthday after all.

The cammera pans out to a shot of the old man from before who winks at the camera. he was the spirit of Halloween magic all along (sorry there's no Halloween equivalent of Santa)

#asks

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ecargmura · 12 days ago

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Dandadan Episode 12 Review + Final Thoughts - You're Ending It Like That?

The way this ended was absolutely FOUL! What do you mean I have to wait until July for season 2? Like you can’t just end it there and say “See you in about seven months!” What a way to get people hyped for the next cour yet so evil too.

Basically, the finale is about the aftermath of the Taro and Hana situation with the kids prostrating to Seiko to allow Hana to stay in the Ayase residence. That way, Taro can sneak out at night and visit his love. The way he does it is so hilarious because he just runs even when there are students in sight; the sight of him taking the train got me chuckling. He was able to make it back despite getting dissembled due to a truck that did not isekai him. It also turns out that the shining ‘ball’ on Taro wasn’t Okarun’s ball but a Christmas ornament. This part was hilarious but it’s cute to see how devoted Taro is to Hana. I’ve also noticed that these minor spirits like the Mantis Shrimp play some sort of role later on, so I get this feeling that the same might apply to Taro and/or Hana.

The episode then transitions to Okarun, Momo and Jiji going to Jiji’s house to see what the source of the curse is. Also, I’m convinced that Jiji’s energy is a mix of being an extrovert and also sleep deprivation because that guy cannot sleep properly and is probably trying to fight it off by being as silly as possible so no one would worry. Regardless, Jiji and Okarun actually do get along well as Jiji is open-minded and accepting. This makes Okarun feel more insecure because his love rival is a good guy and it would make it harder for him to win Momo’s affections.

To be honest, I think their friendship and rivalry is adorable. Okarun doesn’t have male friends because of the constant bullying he got from other boys in school, so it would be nice if Jiji becomes his first friend. Momo is so nice for wanting them to get along hence why she left so the two can bond. I don’t remember the last time I saw two guys childishly fight over a girl they both like. Usually, male rivalries are full of silence, but it’s nice to see them express their mutual love for Momo and be petty about it too. Like I said before, it’s like a gender-bent version of two girls realizing they both like the same guy and fighting over it.

Before moving to the Ayase’s, Jiji used to live in a small town in the mountains. His father is a researcher who studies volcanoes and works at a nearby university before his hospitalization. Jiji’s energy makes so much sense given that mountainous areas are steep, so you have to be athletic or full of stamina to survive. Jiji has the energy and the stamina to climb three flight of stairs while Momo becomes exhausted and Okarun just dies. Though, the townspeople are creepy, especially the ones spying on the kids. The men are especially creepy with how they get into the same bath as Momo and are trying to assault her. *sigh* Momo has terrible luck when it comes to creeps…

But yeah, I do wonder what that weird foyer’s deal is…and that answer will have to wait until Summer. Did you know that in Western countries, fall is considered spooky season while Asian countries consider summer to be spooky season? Ghost stories are often exchanged or told in the summer, which makes absolute sense why Dandadan, a paranormal and supernatural show would return for the summer—it’s to fulfill the spooky vibes.

Final Thoughts

Dandadan was definitely the hit show for this season. Everyone keeps talking about it whether it be positively or negatively. I can see why it’s so popular. Not only is it a Jump title, but it has the ‘anime’ feel to it as it mixes action and zaniness in one. It’s not realistic and it doesn’t have to be—it’s just something fun to look at and enjoy.

I like the unique batch of characters this story has. What I like most is that they’re essentially gender reversed versions of the shounen character tropes. While Momo and Okarun share the role as co-protagonists, both are written in a way that they have traits that are normally reserved for characters of the opposite gender. Momo is blunt, abrasive and has a rude way of speaking, which is normally seen in male shounen MCs, but she also has a heart of gold and that is what attracts people to her. Okarun is a shrinking violet who Momo helps out one day and they become fast friends despite their differences in beliefs. Okarun would be the quintessential shy love interest who develops a crush on the MC and makes it their entire personality, but he does have a personality outside of Momo, which is a good thing, and his crush is used to help him grow and develop. Aira, Jiji and Seiko are unique too! However, I also like that they give personality to the supernatural creatures they encounter like Turbo Granny, Acrobatic Silky, etc. Usually, these sorts of villains would just be textbook evil for the heck of it or just throwaways, but the story does take time to let the readers know what sort of people they are underneath. Turbo Granny protects the souls of girls who died tragically in the tunnel; Acrobatic Silky was once a mom who had a daughter but failed to protect her; Mantis Shrimp was only a villain because he needed to help his son Chiquitita.

The voice acting is really good! Dandadan is one of those Jump titles that uses little new faces and more veterans. The only new face in the cast is Shion Wakayama, technically. Yet, she nails Momo so hard that it’s hard to believe that she started off voicing quiet, shy girls. Everyone else does a splendid job as to be expected of professionals. The English dub also does a spectacular job. I still can’t believe they got Kari Wahlgren and Barbara Goodson to return to anime dubbing. It’s amazing what a good production can do!

Though, I do like the animation and music the most when it comes to this anime. The animation is just so fluid and I really like how Science Saru takes time to give movement to each shot. I also like the music too! The piano score from Episode 7 really gets to me. Whoever did the music needs a raise, ASAP.

I guess a few gripes I have is that Dandadan is aggressively the most Japanese show I’ve seen this season. What I mean by that is that Dandadan does fall victim to the usual anime cliches at times, but it’s not an entirely bad thing. I just feel like some things in it are typical of animes like the unsightly scenes of the first and final episodes to action-packed scenes reminiscent of classic anime shows. People on social media do like to say that there are other cultural influences in Dandadan, but I disagree. Dandadan is very, VERY Japanese from the talk about supernatural powers to Japanese people’s views on aliens. I won’t get into too much detail as I am not Japanese myself, but it is one of those shows that could work in a Western setting, but it wouldn’t have the same flair.

Overall, Dandadan is a show I would recommend to people if they want something fun to watch without thinking too much into it. My brother is always telling me to read the manga as he says it’s better, so I might check out the manga if I get the chance. Let me know your thoughts on the finale and the anime as a whole!

#dandadan #okarun #ken takakura #momo ayase #jin enjoji #jiji #seiko ayase #turbo granny #taro #hana #review #anime #anime review #final thoughts #ecargmura #arum journal

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casual-praxis · 18 days ago

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Adding to the Four Swords x Tales from the Gas Station AU thing..

Despite the fact I said I was abandoning it immediately, I've still been thinking about it while getting swamped at work. Maybe it's just the sucky minimum wage job aspect, but it's taken up refuge in a small corner of my brain now. It owes me money, rent is due.

+ I'm committing to the setting being an actual gas station, though the whole town probably features at least a little in the groups antics. Red's apartment in particular is where everyone defaults to when bored (or in need of shelter due to some weird town-wide spooky shit goin' on).

Red starts off ecstatic about the constant company, but gradually starts to treat it like, "oh, hey, welcome home I guess, [Green, Blue, Vio]'s here too." If it's Shadow he will shut the door immediately, though that doesn't stop Shadow from getting in anyway if he really wants to.

+ Green works multiple jobs all over town and is struggling through student debt, of which comes up in conversation quite a lot as a running joke. He doesn't have many shifts at the gas station, but when he does, some weird shenanigans are pretty much guaranteed to happen. Dude's cursed or something.

He's always pretty low energy due to being run ragged, but always has energy drinks on him that he offers the others whenever there's even a slight inconvenience. He, like Blue, doesn't immediately assume something is supernatural despite the weird ass town they live in, so he's always walking into danger. At least a quarter of his soul now belongs to Vio because of how often Vio has to influence it after Green almost dies (memory alternation doesn't usually taint the souls of those afflicted, but overexposure is one helluva drug).

Also made the executive decision that he's aroace in this AU. Not relevant to anything really, I just think it's neat. Had to self-project this onto one of the Colors eventually lmao.

+ As the main character, Blue interacts with everyone quite a bit for one reason or another, but I've decided that his best friend is Red, his favorite coworker is Green (rip Red, literally whoops), his potential love interest is Shadow, and Vio is a work-acquaintance who he keeps seeing at Red's place and hasn't connected the dots on why that is (they're more than just "good friends", Blue).

+ Shadow and Vio hate each other early on. It is on sight, and it's not even subtle. When asked about it, they give a different reason why every time, often contradicting each other. Both are missing limbs in their true forms as a result of their last scuffle where they went all out.

I haven’t yet decided what causes them to start getting along, but as of now, I don’t think they ever really become friends, more so they just tolerate each other more. Blue and Red probably have something to do with it.

+ Red and Shadow don't particularly like each other, but they aren't outright spiteful of each other. Red's soul belonging to Vio marks him as an enemy to Shadow, but Red being friends with Blue almost negates that fact. Almost. He likes to tease him.

At some point they set the cornfield on fire with a Molotav cocktail and bond over arson.

Until then though, their interactions mainly consist of Shadow poking fun at Red for one reason or another, and Red playing along for Blue’s sake (unless it’s jabs at his relationship with Vio, in which case Red will tell Shadow point blank he hopes Vio kills him ((that’s a lie))).

+ Blue’s memory of Red dying was erased, which, unknown to him, put a strain on their friendship. Shortly after, Shadow makes his appearance, and causes them to unintentionally drift further as Blue starts to spend less time with Red, and more with Shadow.

While this had the potential to become very angsty, it instead just turned into a very convoluted B-plot with Shadow striving to get Blue's memory back from Vio so Blue can fix his friendship with Red--not because he has a soft spot for these two or anything ((liar)), but because Red is spending more time with Vio as a result, and Shadow will do anything to ruin Vio's fun.

It still gets a little angsty once Blue's memory does come back, since, ya know, he unintentionally got his best friend killed. But it's okay, they talk it out. Blue also gets let into the loop on supernaturals at this point, so that opens up a whole lotta exploration potential.

+ I like to think the actual relationship status between Red and Vio is ambiguous, but whatever it is, it's strange. Like, are they just really close coworkers, or are they secretly making out in the camera's blind spot?? Blue thinks they're just good friends, while Shadow is convinced they're together. Green barely even knows who Vio is, so his opinion cannot be sourced at this time.

Either way, Vio stalks Red outside of work. Red is aware, and does not care.

+ Finally, a rapid-fire list of weird shit Blue has seen at the gas station so far:

Lawn-flamingo in the freezer. He got stuck in there when he went to check it out, and then couldn't even find it afterwards.

Headless bird chillin' in the reach-in refrigerator. It was still alive and well, even after being in there for who knows how long--up until they released it and it was immediately eaten by an even bigger bird. Nature is brutal.

Weird nebulous cloud thing that appeared from the cash register. Floated up to the ceiling after a while at which point Blue and Vio took turns hitting it with a broom.

The chip display that only shows up on Sundays. Only contains off-brand chips that don't seem to exist anywhere else. No idea what happens to them once they're bought.

Every now and again, the shitty store phone will get a call on line 4, which shouldn't even be possible. Picking it up usually results in a headache, but also the sound of very faint, reverbed k-pop playing at what appears to be the end of a wind tunnel. Green apparently had a conversation with someone on line 4 once, but didn't remember the contents of said conversation afterwards.

Red somehow catching his hand on fire while restocking the shelves, proceeding to stare at it, then at Blue, then back at his hand, then back at Blue, and in the most monotone sounding voice Blue has ever heard from him, announce "ow," before fleeing to the bathroom.

Corn stalk growing in the air vent. They've been ignoring it, but recently it's been starting to poke out into obvious view of the customers, so Blue is debating contacting the store owners. Sometimes, Blue catches Red staring at it when he's by the lighter display. Not sure if he should be worried about that just yet.

Shadow.

No one believes him on this, but once Blue saw Vio eat a spider completely unprompted. Of course, when he asked why tf Vio did that, Vio just shrugged and said he didn't know what Blue was talking about. Before proceeding to smirk, open his mouth, and let the spider crawl back out--fuckin' weirdo. Ew.

#thank god blue's the only normal person here lmao #very self indulgent au #i love horror comedy #blue x shadow #red x vio #au idea #four swords #blue link #green link #red link #vio link #shadow link #praxis rambles

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btscontentenjoyer · 1 year ago

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BTS Halloween Fic Recs

In honour of spooky season, here are some fanfic recommendations that I think fit the mood or theme of the season! What that means to me really is just some supernatural fics that I've enjoyed a lot. Hope you enjoy some of these fics as well, and if you do, don't forget to let the author know by leaving feedback! Most of these stories contain smut or other mature themes so MINORS DNI!

kim namjoon

hungry (for your love) by @minisugakoobies (two-shot, 4k) slight fluff/slight smut

[namjoon x vampire reader, strangers to lovers]

summary: After a century of slumber, you wake ravenous for your next meal. The first human you stumble across, Namjoon, is a fine choice. You just weren’t expecting him to be so cute.

wish granted by @jjungkookislife (4.6k) smut

[genie namjoon x reader, strangers to lovers]

summary: Finding a genie in a bottle wasn’t what you were expecting the night before Halloween. Being granted three wishes sounded like fun at first, but after wasting one, and stumped on the second, you’re not too sure how your night will pan out. And the genie is of no help… he is insanely attractive though!

kim seokjin

useless magic by @raplinesmoon (2.3k) fantasy/fluff

[baker seokjin x witch reader]

summary: As owner of the hot new bakery in town, you should be more than ashamed to admit that your baking sucks. You know this fact. The only reason why people keep coming back to your bakery is that your desserts are enchanted: chocolate chip cookies that provide warmth and comfort, blueberry muffins that give a burst of energy to start the day, chocolate-covered strawberries spiked with love potions. One day, your fellow rival and bakeshop owner Kim Seokjin stumbles upon you in the midst of casting a spell. And chaos ensues.

in the dead of night by @ot7always (14.5k) smut/fluff

[vampire seokjin x reader, friends to lovers]

summary: You didn’t exactly expect Kim Seokjin to show up at your door at 3 am requesting a bite.

min yoongi

mine by @sailoryooons (14.8k) smut/horror/thriller

[yoongi x succubus reader]

summary: Yoongi lives a quiet life. His days are organized neatly, and every week he can expect the same results. Then he meets you. Hypnotizing. Otherworldly. Strange. And his life never goes back to the way it was before.

the dark by @bratkook (18k) smut

[demon yoongi x reader]

summary: your small town thrives on the occult, luring tourists in with endless themed festivities, but the only place you’re determined to see is the mysterious club that comes to life the week before Halloween. what makes The Dark so exclusive, and what secrets are they hiding behind closed doors?

jung hoseok

not today, satan by @gimmethatagustd (3.7k) humor/a lil bit of smut

[demon hoseok x reader]

summary: If you had known the demon tasked with reaping your soul would be a total #daddy you would have gone to Hell sooner!

what happened in neverland by @kithtaehyung (4.3k) angst/smut/pwp

[mermaid hoseok x pirate reader, enemies to lovers]

summary: you hate him. he’s your enemy. that’s just how it’s always been. so how the hell did you end up here?

the wood by @sailoryooons (16.7k) psychological thriller/smut

[witch hoseok x reader]

summary: From the moment you step foot in Kill Devil, you know something about the town is off. Determined to find out exactly how your sister went missing in such a small town, you receive unlikely help from the man staying in the motel room next to yours. But there is so much more than what meets the eye with Hoseok and the citizens of Kill Devil.

park jimin

cloud nine by @suga-kookiemonster (5.4k) smut/horror

summary: “he’s here again” viv whispers. “you know who. the hot guy who’s totally into you.” and he is hot – devastatingly hot enough that you know he can’t actually be into you, because the universe simply doesn’t work that way. that still doesn’t stop your heart from pounding when he smiles at you from across the room.

nectar by @gimmethatagustd (series, 35k) smut/angst/fluff

[human jimin x vampire reader, roommates to lovers, college au]

summary: Humans have this annoying habit of being drawn to danger, and you’re having a hard time stopping yourself from sinking your teeth into your new roommate. You’re not sure what’s more tantalizing: his impossibly good looks or his seemingly innocent way of flirting with the darkest part of you.

the prince’s cinderella syndrome by @jimilter (39.4k) angst/smut/fluff

[cursed jimin x reader, strangers to lovers]

summary: He shows up at Halloween, every year, dressed the same, and leaves at midnight like some Cinderella. You would think he was a prankster if his eyes didn’t look like they contained all the sadness in the world. You don’t know him - no one on campus does. You don’t know why he appears only once a year. You don’t know why he never smiles. But you can’t help falling in love with him. Even if he breaks your heart when he abandons you at midnight, again.

lovely demons by @kpopfanfictrash (41.7k) fantasy/angst/smut

[prince of hell jimin x witch reader, enemies to lovers]

summary: As penance for a crime committed long, long ago, the Witch Council banished you to the feared Tholoss forest. Your sentence was one hundred thousand days of solitude – or death, whichever came first. Your only hope of salvation comes from the demon names routinely sent your way; creatures who escape the inner circles of Helland pose a threat to the mortal realms. For each demon you kill, days are removed from your sentence. For years you’ve existed, biding your time, until one morning you receive a name which throws your entire world into chaos: the name of Park Jimin, High Prince of Hell himself.

kim taehyung

moonstruck by @jungkxook (7.4k) smut/fluff

[werewolf taehyung x reader, arranged marriage au]

summary: in hindsight, being friends with a pack of werewolves and, thus, suddenly being thrown into a world of supernatural furries and other inhuman beings isn’t something you would recommend but it was too late to back out now, especially when you consider the fact that apparently you’re now being “hunted” and the only way to save you is to be mated with taehyung. whatever that means.

et sic incipit by @lavienjin (12.5k) smut/pwp

[incubus taehyung x virgin reader]

summary: For Taehyung, born of old and before the dawn of man, tempting mortals is nothing more than a pass-time to quench his boredom. Everything changes when he met you, literally too good to be true, but no human has ever resisted his pull. And he’s sure that you’re no different.

love you for infinity by @gimmethatagustd (24k) smut/angst/fluff

[ghost taehyung x human reader, long-lost lovers, soulmates (kinda)]

summary: Kim Taehyung and his fiancée met their untimely deaths when they were young and heartbroken. When he’s doomed to roam the earth as a ghost with unfinished business, Taehyung is convinced that finding the soul of his true love and righting his wrongs will set him free. However, you have no intention of being haunted by a ghost for the rest of your life.

jeon jungkook

corrupt by @bratkook (5k) smut/pwp

[vampire jungkook x human reader]

summary: You’d be crying out in pain begging me to play my games. I could corrupt you, it would be ugly.

knot today by @kinktae (5.8k) smut/pwp

[alpha jungkook x virgin omega reader, friends to lovers]

summary: When your first heat approaches and you are left desperate and partnerless, who better to turn to than your alpha roommate that you’ve spent the better half of your life hiding your feelings for?

only when you’re lonely by @jjkeverlast (7.5k) humor/smut/angst

[human jungkook x succubus reader, fake dating, college au]

summary: jungkook has never dated anyone, because of you and you're soft touches that bring him to orbit. it's all it's ever been, just sex between you. although, it brings an unexpected turn when jungkook accidentally blurts you out as his girlfriend to his college friends which results in them expecting you to an upcoming party. what jungkook doesn't know is that you're much more than just someone he meets when he's lonely.

wicked by @noteguk (9.1k) smut

[incubus jungkook x inexperienced reader]

summary; in which incubus!jungkook likes to ruin pretty innocent things, and you might just be the perfect target.

darkroom by @yoon-kooks (10.2k) smut/fluff

[vampire jungkook x reader, college au]

summary: When you somehow end up in an advanced photography class that you definitely shouldn’t be in, you seek the help of shy nerdy boy Jeon Jungkook to preserve your 4.15 GPA. It isn’t until after you stumble upon him in the darkroom that you realize your cute little nerd is actually a super hot vampire with an icy cold stare and beautiful burgundy eyes.

hotter than hell by @chateautae (series, 136k) angst/fluff/smut

[fallen lucifer jungkook x human reader, enemies to lovers, road trip au]

summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

multiple members

ravished by two by @yoonia (5k) smut

[alpha namjoon x werewolf reader x alpha seokjin, fated mates]

summary: Two dominant Alphas, one defining goal. But how far can you catch up with two prime, tenacious males overcome with desire?

compromise by @here2bbtstrash (10k) crack/smut

[vampire taehyung x human reader x werewolf jungkook, twilight au]

summary: you’re torn between the two loves of your life - but maybe you don’t have to choose.

the (hell) house by @whatifyoulivelikethat (two-shot, 25k+) crack/fluff/smut

[ot7 x fwb reader, all kinds of monster sex lol]

summary: Welcome to the Hell House. Some call it resident evil. Some call it a haunted house. Some call it a waste of space (rude). Enter if you dare – the Doctor will ensure that you never come out the same. What’s that? Why are you going with your seven fuckbuddies? You wouldn’t… fuck in there, right? (Yes, you would.)

Thank you so much for taking the time to check out this list! And thank you to these amazing authors for sharing their work with us!! I honestly wanted to read more this month but I ended up not having time and yet I still wanted to put together a little list for the spooky season (thank you to the anon who asked for halloween recs for giving me a little push!) If anyone has more recommendations, I'd love to hear them, so don't be afraid to put them in the comments or send me an ask <3

#bts fanfic #bts fic recs #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic recs #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fic recs #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic recs #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fic recs #jimin fanfic #jimin fic recs #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic recs #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic recs #halloween fic recs #my rec lists #ivi reads

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ireadyabooks · 5 months ago

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Summer Full of Shivers ☀️☠️🩸

Summer scaries have arrived! This time of year is for spooky stories around the campfire and spine-tingling books that you maybe shouldn’t save for right before you go to bed. But hey, that’s part of the fun, right! We can never get enough horror in our lives and have some chilling reads for you to sink your teeth into in the summer heat! Check out some of our recent favorites below, and don’t forget to keep an extra light on at night! Or don’t . . . we leave that up to you . . .

The Getaway by Lamar Giles

Jay is living his best life at Karloff Country, one of the world's most famous resorts. He's got his family, his crew, and an incredible after-school job at the property's main theme park. Life isn't so great for the rest of the world, but when people come here to vacation, it's to get away from all that.

As things outside get worse, trouble starts seeping into Karloff. First, Jay's friend Connie and her family disappear in the middle of the night and no one will talk about it. Then the richest and most powerful families start arriving, only... they aren't leaving. Unknown to the employees, the resort has been selling shares in an end-of-the-world oasis. The best of the best at the end of days. And in order to deliver the top-notch customer service the wealthy clientele paid for, the employees will be at their total beck and call.

Whether they like it or not.

Yet Karloff Country didn't count on Jay and his crew -- and just how far they'll go to find out the truth and save themselves. But what's more dangerous: the monster you know in your home or the unknown nightmare outside the walls?

Start reading The Getaway now!

Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater

From the #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Raven Boys, the haunting and original supernatural romance returns in a new edition

For years, Grace has watched the wolves in the woods behind her house. One yellow-eyed wolf--her wolf--is a chilling presence she can't seem to live without. Meanwhile, Sam has lived two lives: In winter, the frozen woods, the protection of the pack, and the silent company of a fearless girl. In summer, a few precious months of being human . . . until the cold makes him shift back again.

Now, Grace meets a yellow-eyed boy whose familiarity takes her breath away. It's her wolf. It has to be. But as winter nears, Sam must fight to stay human--or risk losing himself, and Grace, forever.

Start reading Shiver now!

The Deep Dark by Molly Knox Ostertag

From Molly Knox Ostertag, writer-illustrator of the New York Times and ABA Indie bestselling The Witch Boy trilogy and The Girl from the Sea, comes a darkly beautiful story of identity, family, love, loss, and magic.

Everyone has secrets. Mags’s has teeth.

Magdalena Herrera is about to graduate high school, but she already feels like an adult with serious responsibilities: caring for her ailing grandmother; working a part-time job; clandestine makeouts with a girl who has a boyfriend. And then there’s her secret, which pulls her into the basement each night, drains her of energy, and leaves her bleeding. A secret that could hurt and even kill if it ever got out -- like it did once before.

So Mags keeps her head down, isolated in her small desert community. That is, until her childhood friend Nessa comes back to town, bringing vivid memories of the past, an intoxicating glimpse of the future, and a secret of her own. Mags won’t get attached, of course. She’s always been strong enough to survive without anyone’s help.

But when the darkness starts to close in on them both, Mags will have to drag her secret into the daylight, and choose between risking everything . . . or having nothing left to lose.

Start reading The Deep Dark now!

A Darker Mischief by Derek Milman

The Honeys meets The Secret History in a work of dark academia like no other -- a boarding school thriller about a queer teen from Mississippi who finds himself swept into a world of old money, privilege, and the secret society at the heart of it all.

When Cal Ware wins a scholarship to an elite New England boarding school, he's thrilled to leave his past behind. Back home in Mississippi, he was the poor, queer kid who never fit in. But at Essex Academy, he'll be able to reinvent himself. Or so he hopes . . .

But at Essex, Cal's classmates only see his cheap clothes and old iPhone. They mock his accent, and can't believe he's never left the country, or heard of The Hamptons. Cal, at his breaking point, is about to give up and return to Mississippi when he learns about a secret society on campus -- the key to becoming Essex royalty.

Cal knows he's not exactly secret society material, but to his surprise, he finds an unlikely champion in the handsome, charismatic, and slightly dangerous Luke Kim. As they get swept up in the mystery and glamour of the Rush process, Cal finds himself falling in love for the first time.

But as the initiation rituals grow riskier -- and increasingly nefarious -- Cal must decide how far he's willing to go, and how much of himself he's willing to sacrifice, to save everything and everyone he cherishes most. Because nothing at Essex -- not even Cal's first love -- is quite what it seems.

Start reading A Darker Mischief now!

The Other Ones by Fran Hart

A beautiful and unputdownable story about love, friendship, and the ghosts that grief can leave behind, The Other Ones is a heartfelt, contemporary romance with a haunting twist . . .

Salem Amani is a world-weary sixteen-year-old living with his mother and older sister in a haunted house. But all Sal really wants is to be ordinary, which is hard to do when you live in a house full of ghosts. And when a strange boy arrives on his doorstep asking more questions than he’s at all comfortable with, Sal’s efforts to be ordinary are put under even greater strain. Until Pax makes his offer: “I could help you with the hauntings . . . I’m good with ghosts.”

But despite his initial dislike of Pax, Sal can’t help but find himself unexpectedly drawn to the boy. And as the two grow closer, and Pax offers to help Sal scare away his ghosts for good, Sal finds himself sinking deeper into a lie concealing the truth about his family.

When the true nature of the “hauntings” is revealed, Sal must confront reality – or risk losing Pax for good.

Start reading The Other Ones now!

#ireadya #ya books #The Getaway #Lamar Giles #Shiver #Maggie Stiefvater #The Deep Dark #Molly Knox Ostertag #A Darker Mischief #Derek Milman #The Other Ones #Fran Hart #summer full of shivers #horror

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smalltownspacebug · 1 year ago

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New pinned!

M. 26. GB 🇬🇧

• Always down to receive asks and talk to people.

• Into concrete and space stuff but I fucking hate Elon Musk.

• Helicopter bait.

Side blogs:

@pagangothic - As it sounds, pagan/witchy/gothic/morbid/natural stuff, criminally underrated in my opinion

@reverse-the-hilarity - My Doctor Who blog. Sufficiently rated and rarely used, but I need more nerds to follow so holla.

#new pinned #q bomb #cydonia #concreteposting #romanticise your life again #city #citylife #spooky #spooky small town energy #road trip #seasonal affective disorder #slasher summer #halloween #my aesthetic #yuppieposting #interior

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little-pondhead · 1 year ago

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Eyes Of The Past - OLD CH. 1

Part 2

[TW: swearing, mentions of death, sickness, and general spookiness.]

...

Danny was used to seeing the dead. He was one of them, actually. People have been dying for thousands of years and will continue to die for thousands more. Hearing the whispers of people who should have passed on was nothing unusual, even if it gave him an uncomfortable sense of wrongness.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t like Gotham City.

Don’t get him wrong! Gotham was a lovely place to live; if you were psychotic. But the gothic architecture that never seemed to crumble, the visible smog that settled over the skies like a thick blanket, and the acidic aftertaste the water had were just enough to make Danny uncomfortable as he trekked through the streets. It had just rained, and the random sounds of water dripping off buildings made him flinch. Puddles kept reflecting the surroundings unusually. The smell of wet asphalt was heavy in the air, nothing like the freshness of Amity’s rain.

He felt itchy and weird in his skin, like something was trying to burn it off. It was just past three am, and Danny had just gotten off his split shift at some high-end nightclub. The Iceberg Lounge, or something like that. He’d gotten a job as a busboy since he was too young to work as a bouncer or bartender. Honestly, he was lucky they let him have a job at all. He took every shift he could, sometimes going over the legal limit of what a minor was allowed to work.

His boss allowed it, however. On a few conditions.

Listen in on the customers and report anything interesting to management. Danny was tiny, way too small for his age of sixteen. But he was great at making himself unnoticeable, which allowed him to keep his ears open for exciting deals and whatnot that were going around. He didn’t feel good about the work, but it kept food on the table. So far, the worst he’s reported was a plan to move against Red Hood and his gang. It wasn't ideal, but Danny could put up with the prying eyes and greedy hands so long as he got paid on time.

Oh, but the dead? They were so much worse.

The dead always noticed him. And they always talked to him. He could barely think straight with all the ghouls, specters, shades, and other souls that always clamored for his attention. Gotham’s dark atmosphere bred hundreds of angry souls who refused to move on until their business was finished. But without a steady source of ectoplasm or a natural portal, most of them stayed as shadows of their former selves. They stuck to the city's underbelly, brewing in anger and making the town sicker than it already was. Some of them, the stronger ones with a real bone to pick, chose to haunt the living, clinging to a person’s back and leeching off their life energy. Those were the ones Danny had to deal with the most in Gotham.

It was horrible. Everything was just so sad and angry! The city had a lot of fucked-up people living here, and the worst of them had so many shades sticking to them. They all wanted something. It made Danny feel like he was always having an allergy attack. The city just messed his senses up in the worst way possible. Danny would gladly be living anywhere else if it wasn’t for his need to hide and survive.

Kill them. Danny shivered as he turned a corner, and a shadow reached out to stick to his shoulder, whispering filthy words into his ear. Kill them for me. He brushed the spirit off, ignoring their hiss. His back ached, and his head throbbed. Danny just wanted to climb into the shit hole he called home and fall asleep on the thin futon he’d shoved into a corner.

So he did.

Danny climbed the rickety fire escape up to his apartment as quietly as possible (the main staircase was out of order) and shimmied himself through the broken window that never opened all the way. His backpack was stored under his futon, in the floorboards, and he collapsed without changing his clothes.

Maybe tomorrow’s shift will be better. He thought, closing his eyes.

…

It was not better. His next shift was as shitty as all the others.

“Take this to the east balcony on the second floor.” Danny’s supervisor for the night, Tamia, shoved a heavy tray laden with beer bottles and fancy cocktails into his hands, pointing vaguely to the staircase he’d have to use. It was only thanks to Danny’s ghost strength that he didn’t collapse under the weight.

“Isn’t that where the boss is?” He asked, squinting past the bright lights, barely making out the short outline of Oswald Cobblepot as he talked up some rough-looking characters.

Tamia nodded, distracted. She was already back to whipping up complicated drinks and barking orders at the other servers. “Yeah, so don’t fuck this up. In and out, ya hear?”

“Got it, Tam.”

She waved him off, and he began the rough journey to the second floor, skirting around the edges of the packed tables, avoiding the odd penguin, and taking careful steps up the staircase, floating just barely above the floor to make sure he didn’t slip. Guests and other workers ignored him, but their shades reached out, caressing him in a way that made him want to squirm. He couldn’t shake them off, not while he was carrying the tray.

She killed me, one whispered as a lady dressed in diamonds passed.

I was drugged, said another when a burly older man walked by.

Danny pressed close to the walls as a group meandered on by. My teddy bear! A little girl’s voice cried out, and he couldn’t tell which of the group it was coming from. He took my teddy bear! I want it back!

I can’t help you, he thought viciously, trying to charge the air around him with hostility. It was difficult. The humans would pick up on it if he harshed the vibes too much. Too little, and the shades would ignore it. A nearby penguin squawked in alarm, but the spirits backed off, so he counted it as a win.

Finally, he reached the east balcony. The thick curtains were closed, but his sharp hearing still caught a few words through the club's noise. Something about the gang war Red Hood had prevented (the one Danny had reported on.)

But it wasn’t his job to worry about that. He wasn’t a hero anymore. Instead, Danny politely knocked on a pillar holding the curtains up, waiting to be let in.

The conversation quieted. “Who is it?” asked his boss.

“Drinks, sir,” Danny replied simply. The curtain was let open, and by the Ancients, Danny wished he’d never taken this job.

The balcony was brimming with the dead. It reeked with the heavy stench of death.

He suppressed a cough, clamping his mouth shut as he passed out drinks. His hostile aura was drowned out by the sheer amount of spirits clamoring at each other, practically at each other’s ghostly throats. Some of them had real definition to their features, telling Danny that this was not a group to be messed with. One of the spirits was on the verge of gaining its own consciousness, dripping a familiar green Danny had come to associate with his rouges. The spirit's burning eyes turned to him, and Danny was overwhelmed with the scent of rot rolling off it. It made him feel sick to his stomach.

He started to pass out drinks, suppressing the urge to shiver as hands gripped at his face, his clothes, his arms, his everything. The shades had noticed him. They clamored around him, filling his head with white noise. It was horrible.

Mr. Cobblepot eyed the boy, noticing how his newest employee had tensed up and gone noticeably paler in the presence of his guests.

The kid had practically folded in on himself as another aide swept aside the curtains. His hands trembled just barely, and he refused to meet anyone’s eyes straight on, instead looking past their ear or at their foreheads. He also noticed how Red Hood, sitting directly to his right, had gone stiff when the kid entered the room. The crime lord wasn’t showing his face, but he could still see how Hood tracked Danny’s movements like a hawk, tensed like he was about to leap out of his chair and assault the kid. Danny, for his part, had clamped his mouth shut and did his duties diligently and quickly, seemingly not noticing Red Hood’s attention on him.

Everyone began murmuring again, continuing their conversations now that they had booze to loosen their tongues. Mr. Cobblepot took a tentative sip of his fancy cocktail, non-alcoholic, of course. He couldn’t have his thoughts inhibited while in the middle of a business deal.

The kid was in and out like a ghost, barely making a sound as he slipped past the curtains once more, tray clutched to his chest.

“Who was that?” Red Hood finally tore his attention away from the kid’s retreating back and turned to the host of the evening.

Mr. Cobblepot waved him off. “A new hire. Don’t worry. All the paperwork is in order; he’s not here illegally.” Lies slipped off his tongue like honey, and luckily, Red Hood was too distracted to notice. “Now, let’s get back to business, shall we?”

Danny practically ran down the stairs and back into the kitchens. He barely had time to shove his empty tray into Tamia’s hands before he slammed the back doors open and heaved the contents of his stomach out next to a dumpster.

Ancients, that was horrific. Danny knelt there for a few moments, dry heaving some more until his stomach was well and truly empty. Acid burned the back of his throat.

“Holy shit Danny! What happened?” Thin hands clamped down on his shoulders, making him flinch. The touch softened, and they started rubbing circles on his back instead. It was Tamia, no doubt having run after him when she saw his pale face.

Danny shuddered and shook his head. “Sorry.” He gasped. “I think-I think I’m allergic to something they were wearing.”

“Fuck.” Tamia cursed softly. “If I get you a drink, will that settle your stomach?”

“Probably, yeah.”

His (totally awesome, reminded him of Jazz) supervisor stood up decisively. “Then I’m getting you some water.” She told him. Two wispy shades curled around her neck, chittering at him with anxiety. “Sit out here and take some deep breaths. We’re short-staffed tonight, so I’ll send Mia to the balconies instead. We can’t afford to send you home.”

“And I can’t afford to miss a shift.” He joked. His heart wasn't in it.

Tamia turned and opened the back door. “Well, if you’re already cracking jokes, you’ll be back to waiting tables in no time~” She cackled over her shoulder.

Danny smiled at her retreating back. Tamia was a nice person, and he didn’t meet many of those these days. She was tall, with dark skin and a wit to match Nightwing’s. He’s sure she was only looking out for him because he reminded her of her two younger siblings, dead from a house fire a few years ago. (If he had to hazard a guess, the two shades that clung to her with such desperation were what was left of those very siblings.) It was fine. He’d take any pity he could get.

Coughing slightly, Danny leaned back on his heels and looked up, trying to see past Gotham’s cloud cover. Instead of stars, he saw two white eyes narrow at him from the top of the building. A dark mass writhed above the eyes, making the figure they belonged to blend in with the background. Danny yelped in surprise and fell on his butt. When he looked up again, the eyes were gone.

Well, shit.

Danny scrambled to his feet and tore open the back door, almost running into Tamia, who had a bottle of water in her hands. “Tam!” He blurted. “Get the boss! The Bat is here!”

...

[Pretty short cause I gotta skedaddle off to work. This is a planned fic that will be pretty short, and I'll link the next part below at a later date. Hope you enjoyed it!]

#danny phantom #dpxdc #pondhead writes #eyes of the past fic #not beta read #no beta we die like danny #ooooo spooky #can anyone guess what's happening? probably #currently squinting at the screen rn cause i have no glasses on #maybe bad fenton parents au?#idk may not mention them #angst #i just decided that have fun

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a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 2 years ago

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John Price x Reader

Part One | Part Three

With your Captain at the brink of death and little supplies left to keep you covered, the two of you do what little you can to hold out and distract yourselves until help arrives.

TW//: Blood, Mentions of Death

Angst, Drama, Romance, Action, Suspense, Tense, Near Death Experiences, Confessions of Love, Light Fluff, Confessions, Light Bickering, canon inaccuracies probably, but hopefully not, slight character study, medical inaccuracies, I'm no nurse, I'm a film major :(, a mopey rollercoaster, but the ending is worth it hopefully

Word Count: 4.2k

Took me a few days to ponder what I wanted to do with this (I'm so indecisive), but at last, I finished. I wanted it to be sad, I'm not sure if I succeeded, but I promise it's not pointlessly sad (probably isn't even sad). Also, let me know if I should follow this up with a Part 3 (which would be the final part of this, might do it any way but if this was actually garbage I will keep it pushin'). Regardless, I had fun typing this, I felt rusty typing something actually angsty. I hope you enjoy! ( ㄕཀ ʖ̯ ཀ)

taglist: @tapioca-marzipan @spooky-pomegranate

Thank you again, I hope it was worth the wait (T^T)>

Stay awake. You tell yourself again and again -- stay awake. Don't succumb to the fatigue, ignore the pain in your arm, and keep your foot on the gas. It's either that or you lose Price right here and now.

You look over at your Captain after five more minutes had passed, with nothing but the rocky road and its hills ahead of you to keep you company. Price kept his pistol in hand and his tired blue eyes on the perimeter outside the convoy. He didn't have much to say anymore; it was taking all his energy just not to bleed to death.

His chest rises and falls with each heavy breath he forcibly conjured out of himself. By now his blood stained his seat, growing larger with each hill you've passed. Your Captain would be an angel already had you not found more supplies in the vehicle to temporarily patch him up with. Though he seemed adamant about staying alive, nonetheless.

The night sky darkens, and the road ahead demonstrates its need to be endless. Price had told you before that he had no intention of bleeding to death. You desperately want to believe him.

Clouds roll over the moon, which for a while had shared its glow alongside the headlights of your recently stolen convoy. Its absence only makes you feel more boxed in, placed behind the wheel with your dying Captain. The outskirts of Urzikstan appear an even less welcoming place than before. With its encompassing darkness, your fears of what lie in them only grew, the longer you drove and yet to encounter your destination.

The hills now tower around your vehicle like walls, painted pitch black, becoming mountainous the further out you drive. Had you not seen the fallback zone around the corner, you would have thought yourself lost.

You park the convoy a short ways to the rear of the location: a small, rundown house long abandoned since all the fighting in the area re-escalated. The house was on the outskirts of some empty town not too far away that both AQ, the Russians, and the locals avoided, seeing as the next nearest town was where you just left, and anywhere beyond this point was under AQ and Russian control. It should be a safe place to lie low until your exit is available again.

Price made sure there were a few safe areas to fall back to, in case things went wrong during the mission. Which they most certainly did. You wouldn't even have needed to be here in the first place, had everything not continued to go wrong after acquiring the vehicle. Your bad luck has hopefully since ceased.

However, the night hadn't been over yet. That much had been proven true only a half hour ago.

In a matter of minutes after making your vehicular getaway, AQ had caught up to you, all in convoys, and armed to the teeth. Had Nikolai not been around the corner with his helicopter, you and Price would have surely been run off the road at some point, being as injured as you both are and with hardly any ammo left to spare.

You could only see in your rearview mirror the destruction Nikolai created behind you, the sky having lit up with the flames of your unwanted pursuers. It had almost been perfect, until shrapnel and gunfire damaged Nikolai's helicopter too much during that last-second rescue, forcing him to retreat.

You could still picture watching him fly away, seeing that shadowy monstrosity fly off into the sky, until the hills had swallowed it whole. Watching your only exit out of here fly off into the distance absolutely gutted you. The small sliver of hope you hadn't yet lost had all but gone away with him. Yet you knew it was the safest thing to do. Your LZ had been compromised, and it wouldn't have done any good if you all piled on just to get blasted out of the sky moments later.

So instead, a change of plans was made. Nikolai, being the resourceful individual he was, had other means of escape worked out. He just needed to get there first.

Knowing this, your new objective had been clear and simple for you both: Stay alive.

You park the convoy and shut the vehicle off, watching the headlights die and a chilling silence fall in the air. All you can really do is take a moment and breathe.

Your right arm -- still very much broken and in pain -- rested limply in your lap, begging for a sling. A throbbing headache has not left you since taking that RPG blast only an hour or so ago. With having to wait to be saved now, time felt as though an hourglass had just been rested on its side.

You peek back through your window, seeing the empty hills behind you. No one's been in pursuit since Nikolai's interference earlier. Hopefully, their absence meant you'd finally lost them. You felt you had run all out of hope tonight, yet it's all that felt real and obtainable anymore.

"It seems quiet enough," you start to unbuckle your seat belt. "It's probably safe to head inside now."

You wait for your Captain's reply, only to be met with silence.

"Price?"

You look over to find the Captain lying slumped against his seat, his eyes closed and as still as a statue. The sight makes your blood run cold and your heart quake with fear.

"...Price," you reach over and rest a hand on his shoulder, beginning to shake him. Praying that he'll wake up. "Price, stay with me, Captain. Come on, wake up."

You shake and shake him, but the man doesn't budge from his sudden unconsciousness, his body only moving along to the hold you had over his shoulder. At each little shove you make of him, your eyes further lock on the still features of his face, desperation filling you.

You've tried so hard to keep your composure tonight, if not for yourself then for him. You had wanted to return the favor for all the times he's helped you from the brink of death before. The many times Price has been your last glimmer of hope when you feared none was there to have. You wanted to be that for him now. To show him he needn't shoulder such things alone. He couldn't die now.

"Price, please-"

The Captain starts to cough himself out of whatever slumber he'd found himself in, his face grimacing with pain as he hugged his wounded side. "I'm good..." he claims. "...'ave we made it?"

You look at Price, frustrated at his cavalier attitude, despite having been so used to it before. Frankly, your emotions could not handle it at the moment, given the fact that only a second ago you could have sworn he'd just died.

"It's getting worse," you state.

"I'll be fine," he protests.

"Price," he can hear in your tone you're trying to be real with him now. "Just because you wanna act like it's nothing, doesn't mean that it is-"

"Last I checked, we've little time for us to fuck about right now, lieutenant."

"You just passed out."

Price opened his mouth, prepared to argue more, but pauses when he realizes that he can't really argue at all. He had passed out, and he wasn't so prideful to claim that it wouldn't happen again either. So he instead settles down, allowing you to take the reigns and go back to focusing on the important matters.

"...I know," he says. "I'm sorry... Are you holding up alright?"

"I'm doing better than you."

Then that's what matters most, Price had thought. "I don't doubt it," he says. "And here I was hopin' I'd go out in a more dignified fashion than this-"

"Stop it," you take his hand again, shutting down whatever pity talk he was beginning to spew. Not wanting it to worry you that he's gotten to this point. "Look, we're at the safehouse now. That should make not bleeding to death a hell of a lot easier."

"Or at least more comfortable," Price quips. Though your humorless expression only makes him digress. "There should be more supplies inside."

"Let's just get inside before you pass out again."

It's a struggle to get him inside, and twice as much a struggle to patch his wound up. Price had the place generously stocked with a resupply of weapons, ammo, and medkits, though it wouldn't be enough to change the current dilemma that your Captain was in.

Once your arm had been slung (DIY style), you immediately tended to Price. However, having to help stitch with your non-dominate hand was an absolute nightmare, as much as your Captain tried to take over for himself. His hands had grown too shaky to hold the needle, it would slip from his grasp every so often, and you hadn't wanted to see him grow more frustrated with the task.

Of course, watching you struggle to stitch only upset him more. You were mostly silent, though Price would see your throat move hesitantly, swallowing heavily at every sudden urge that came to you that wanted to cry. You hadn't wanted to in front of your Captain, you didn't want him to worry about you.

You wouldn't let any amount of hindrances stop you, you closed the wound, redressed it, and checked on it a second time before Price finally had to tell you it would hold. Though closed or not, it mattered little. He'd lost so much blood at this point that it was a miracle he wasn't dead already.

But miracles only last for so long.

In and out of consciousness, Price thought a lot about how silly it would be if he bled to death right now. In such a helpless state, forced to rely on his subordinate to keep him alive. Someone who had felt more than a subordinate, now more than ever. You've seen him blown out of the sky, near beaten to death, stabbed, shot, and then some.

Twenty years of all the shit he's been through in the force, and a gut wound from shrapnel is what takes him out. He almost found it funny.

Price has told himself his whole life he'd be ready when the time comes. He accepts death every day he wakes in the morning and steps out the door. It didn't mean he'd lay down and die, however, ironic now. One way or another, the man just always knew that when he went out it would be fighting. Because he's fought his whole life, it's all he knows how to do.

All he could ever ask for is to die doing what he loves, and this had been that. However, now that this love has brought him here beside you, giving him the fate he's all but manifested for himself, over years of growing pessimism and a longing to be dignified, suddenly, he finds it funny how life can be. Now all of a sudden he doesn't feel so ready to go. He thought he'd be more prepared.

And it's what's killing him most of all. This helplessness death has now brought him.

Had Price not gone ahead and made sure Nikolai stashed medical supplies in the safehouse in advance, he's certain he would be dead right now. Though as it's been said before, the night's not over yet.

"Lieutenant..." Price calls to you faintly.

You look over at the Captain, seeing him still seated beside you, his back resting against the living room wall. Though he still looked pale, cold sweat dotting his skin, and with labored breaths, at least he wasn't bleeding anymore. You did what you could with what was available, however, you were no field medic.

"What's up?" you reply, though your attention stays out the window, towards the dark perimeter outside the safehouse. By now these hills would haunt your dreams.

You remain posted by one of the front windows, your pistol clutched in your feeble hand. Since redressing Price's wound (and your own), you've been on watch; despite numerous failed (and delirious) attempts by your Captain to take watch himself. He was as adamant to see you in better health as you were to him.

As far as you're concerned, you're the one who's in the best shape here, broken arm or not. Beyond the exhaustion, you still had all of yourself with you. That alone made you obligated to be the one that gets you both out of this mess.

However, this is the clearest the man's ever felt, and something else had been on Price's mind. A thought which crossed him, after some realization came, somewhere between silences.

Price asks you faintly "...Will you talk to me?"

You look at your Captain now, perturbed. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothin' beyond the obvious, love," Price shakes his head, before bringing a weak hand up to clear his hoarse throat. "Just tryin' not to livin' the night up by passin' out and fallin' into a coma," he admits.

Fair enough.

"OK..." You turn back to the perimeter, running a million possible icebreakers that you could say right now. It's hard to settle for just one. "Where are we going out to eat after this?"

Price chuckles to himself. "Somewhere with good steak and Guinness would suit me," he jokes.

"Can it be somewhere fancy?" you ask. "I'd love to dress up."

"Mm," Price hums.

You've dressed up a few times before whenever the team went out and there was time. He's always liked how you always kept up appearances, and that it wasn't for any other reason than the fact that you just enjoyed doing so. Evidently, Price has had passing memories of a few choice outfits you've worn, many he wished to see again.

"You've any outfits in mind?" He asks you, wanting you to paint a picture for him. Give him something nice to think about.

You think to yourself for a moment, your ponderous hum filling the silence. "A dress," you state, thinking out loud and conjuring it as you speak, as Price hums with affirmation to each suggestion. "I'm thinking something skin tight... low cut with strings and spaghetti straps. Oh! And with one of those little leg slit things too! And heels."

"That's quite a detailed description," Price teases.

You've had a lot of time to think about it, though you'd never admit that. "Does it sound nice though?"

Had you two been having this conversation elsewhere, Price's mind would have undoubtedly gone somewhere vulgar, only picturing how that dress might look bunched up at your ankles or pushed up in a messy bundle around your waist. He's sure that was your intent when describing it as well.

However, with his mind repeatedly giving way to the black throughout this conversation now, his body gone from numb to feeling light as a feather, all he could picture of you in that dress was the smile you'd have for him instead, with a cluster full of joy shining in your eyes. How happy you would be just to be beside him, just as you are now. In these brief moments where your mind has been taken away from reality.

Does it sound nice, you ask him. You could narrate his dying breath, and the man would have thought it a beautiful thing, having been your words he last could hear before the world finally takes him.

"It sounds lovely," he says.

You swallow, your brave front cracking ever so slightly at his honesty. For some reason, it felt as though gravity just came back to you. You hadn't noticed its absence until now.

"Which is exactly why we're gonna get out of here," you reassure yourself. "So I can model it for you in person, yeah?"

"Exactly why..."

It had been nice talking about something else. Seeing you smiling again had warmed the grown man's heart as greatly as any time before. Price had been itching to see it one more time.

No doubt, he hadn't forgotten about his promise to take you out to dinner once you've both returned. Thinking about it now, at the brink of death without you even knowing... it's a sweet thought, nonetheless.

"I've no idea why you even bother with me..." he says suddenly, his mind fading so much he can hardly hear the words which leave him when they do. However, it had been a growing thought all night.

He's never understood your fondness for him. Price knew he could be hot shit, and he's earned respect from countless of his peers and subordinates alike, but it wasn't because he had been special, he always thought. He saw himself as no different than anyone else on his team choosing to do the same mission.

And surely he was a sorry excuse of a man for putting you through such a thing as this, tonight.

However, the scoff you let out after he says this would suggest you beg to differ.

"Are you kidding?" You say, keeping your gaze out the window, though even from there, Price could see the sudden pride fire up in your eyes. "You're like the greatest guy I know, Captain."

Price chuckles. "...I appreciate that"

"I mean it too," you continue. "We wouldn't be 141 without you. You're smart, you're resourceful, you're kind, but you get shit done too. Not to mention you're a total hunk. You're literally the entire package."

Yeah, you thought, Price is the whole package. There wasn't a man around that you trusted more than your Captain, nor was there anyone you ever wanted respect and companionship from more than his.

You still remember the first time you ever met Price. Laswell practically had to fight the man just to let you onto the team, having doubted your capabilities at the time. And in turn, you were doubtful of him as well.

You'd heard the stories of him back even during your SAS days, talking to the man in short, and tuning him out whenever he grew too overbearing during training. You wanted to say you weren't impressed with him, but even then you could see he wasn't just all talk. So the respect had been begrudgingly earned, to start with.

It wasn't until after a few high-tense missions with him that you finally started to get along. You both may bicker and avoid one another on base, but on the field you two worked together like fire and lightning, perfectly complimenting each other.

Price always was fair and reasonable, giving no doubt to his abilities as a leader. His confidence always felt reassuring in the most stressful of operations. While he could be a hard-ass, he was equally proud and gave praise whenever credit was due. Eventually, you started to crave it.

Price always liked how you listened to him, trusting his judgment and taking his advice. He's seen you grow and learn, watching you bleed for your comrades and step into the fire ready, just as he does, and that alone had been respectable to him. You had been so happy to have it too.

The hostility simmered into being cordial, before becoming neutral, and then casual. Your talks warmed, as did your times together. After a while, Price had been as synonymous to you as home ever could be. With all you two have been through, and all the times he's helped you since knowing him, you owe it to him to be his support this time.

"Whenever I'm around you I..." You speak again, but pause shortly, trying to think of the right words to say. "I feel safe," you say. "Like everything's going to be OK, and that soon it'll all be over. Because you're here. I mean, when you pulled me out from that rubble and I saw that you were OK, I just..."

It had felt wrong to ever even have had any doubts then. Because of course Price had been fine, it was Price. That's just who he was.

"I don't think I've ever met a man I've felt so safe around before in my entire life," you say. "Even now-"

You look over, only to be greeted by your Captain lying slouched against the wall, his eyes closed and completely still. Irresponsive. Your smile drops, and your heart sinks to your stomach.

"Captain?"

No response.

You immediately rush to his side and check for a pulse on his neck, your heart shattering when you couldn't find it.

"Price?" Your voice is practically at a whisper now, unable to use your vocal cords to full use, from fear of your voice breaking apart altogether. You place your hand on the side of his face, his skin so cold it makes you shiver, feeling your lip start to quiver and your vision blur with hot tears.

Even now, a small part of you was simply waiting to see him open his eyes again. Expecting him to shrug this off like he does with everything else so easily.

The whole time you sat kneeled in front of your Captain, you kept questioning how you could have let this happen, scolding yourself for this catastrophe. So many emotions flooded within you at one moment, you almost felt unable to process. You wanted to throw up, it was so much. It instead halts you there like a statue, your face frozen blank.

Your grievances are interrupted upon hearing a vehicle approaching outside. Suddenly, you really take in the fact that you're by yourself now. Your heart races, your hands starting to shake and your breathing growing quick. You were on your own.

You press your back against the wall, keeping your pistol close to you. You watch the headlights from outside pool through the window, illuminating the living room and remaining there.

The comms were beside Price; Nikolai would surely notify you if it was him outside. AQ couldn't have found you so soon, could they have?

With a broken arm and your own intuition left, you close your eyes and rest your head back against the wall, repeating to yourself at a whisper, "Please be Nik. Please be Nik. Please be Nik..."

Your comms buzz. "Price, Price, come in," Nikolai radios in. "Help has arrived!"

You let out a broken exhale. For the first time all night, you actually felt some real relief. Though, it was quickly drowned out once you looked back over towards your Captain, still lying there. Only a few minutes shy of being able to know you both would have been rescued tonight.

You reach around Price to grab the comms and radio back in to Nikolai. "Give me a minute, Nik."

You set the comms down, kneeling back in front of your Captain, tears burning in your eyes, your chest on fire.

Seeing him like this had felt so surreal. So unfitting. So unfair.

"Oh John…" You bring your hand down to Price's, holding tightly as his large fingers sat limp in your grasp. Cold and bloodied. You couldn't bring yourself to part from him now. "…I'm so sorry."

Price's hand suddenly twitches in your palm, making you gasp rather meekly. You watch him slowly pry his heavy eyelids open, and he reciprocates the hold you have over his hand, giving you a reassuring squeeze. Letting you know he was alive.

"… I'm right here," Price breathes out. "I'm here…"

Your gasp is broken with both relief and joy, a smile growing on your face and tears streaming down your cheeks. He was alive after all. Of course he was. This is your Captain. This is who John is; forever the class act.

A ping of frustration then hits you, bringing you to shove your Captain suddenly.

"Easy now," he says sarcastically.

"Don’t ever do that again!" you yell at him. "You scared me half to death, you asshole!"

Price raises an eyebrow at your outburst. He then sighs to himself, looking ahead of himself. Content.

"Ah, well…" He retakes your hand again, holding it in his lap for a spell, letting his thumb caress your skin, as he thinks slowly to himself. His breath is as broken as his hand feels in yours, with so much on his mind still left to say. He wouldn't miss these chances no longer. "I love you too."

You open your mouth to speak but then pause. Did he just say that to you? He loves you. Your heart jumped for joy. You didn't lose him after all.

You no longer cared if you looked weak, or unprofessional, or even too emotional, the tears come out and everything you'd been keeping bottled releases into broken sobs, and it feels so good to let them out. You lean into your Captain, burying your head into his chest to cry, which springs a pained "oof" from him in return.

"I'm sorry, Captain," you sit up and wipe the tears from your eyes. "I'm sorry... I really thought I lost you."

"I'm not goin' nowhere," he says. "We've still got that dinner later."

A big, giddy smile paints your face, and then, with a lifetime of moments worth of waiting and build-up to help guide you, you lean forward and let your lips come to Price's. Just in case. You didn't want to take any more chances.

You kiss Price softly, tasting the blood on his tongue and feeling the sting of his beard against your face. He could have been covered in mud for all you cared. You pull your lips away quickly, not having wanted to take up too much time. However, Price chases your lips as you part, finding your mouth again and kissing you back just as longingly. He finally lets himself celebrate the end of this night and the start of tomorrow.

( ´•̥̥̥o•̥̥̥`)♡(˘̩̩̩̩̩̩ ⌂ ˘̩̩̩̩̩̩) part three

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