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pbelfz · 1 year ago

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Two to One | 14 |

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader x Midoriya Chapter Title: Angling Chapter 13 | Chapter 15 Story Masterlist Summary: You are a simple college girl working at a cheap, back alley café! The top heroes, Deku and Ground Zero, visit your work in hopes of ordering coffee, but they pick something else up instead. You begin an interesting relationship with the pair, while slowly becoming aware of certain underhanded tactics they are using. Idolization isn't always that bad... Right?

WARNINGS: coercion, corruption kink, virginity loss,

“So, Deku, have you seen what news articles are saying about you recently?”

The TV talk show host, Ema, on her show, Ema, changed the topic to an attention-grabber, and the audience noticeably silenced. Izuku sat across from her, relaxed in a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up half-way and the top two buttons undone. He must have shaved this morning – or his makeup crew did it for him – because the light stubble that was growing in was nowhere to be seen.

The interview played on the small cable television kept in the staff backroom of Satou’s. (Y/n) was on lunch break and glanced periodically at the TV, trying to convince herself she didn’t actually want to watch.

Deku smiled back at the host. (Y/n) knew that he was probably aching to slouch in that chair or at least rest his cheek in his palm. It wouldn’t be a good look for the Symbol of Peace, though. The public didn’t know how tired he always was.

“There’s quite a lot of news articles that say a lot of things about me,” Deku replied, and he wasn’t wrong. (Y/n) had been wise to keep her Deku and Dynamight news consumption limited to Twitter – for what it was worth, anyway.

Ema grinned, glancing at the crowd and back to Izuku.

“Well,” she started, “Some people have noticed how often you cross your legs, Deku.” Her gaze flickered to Izuku’s current posture. His legs were crossed, all right. The camera zoomed in on them. Izuku waited patiently.

(Y/n) never took her eyes off of Izuku. His brow twitched the slightest hint at the urge to furrow, but he didn’t. He continued to offer a kind yet curious closed-mouth smile.

“And we all know what it means when a man is able to cross his legs!” Ema looked to the crowd, checking her own presentation in the monitor.

The crowd was heard giggling, especially when Izuku finally made a face that must have been itching to press through. However, he’s been in the public eye for eleven years now; he’s learned many tricks of de-escalation, redirection, and humor.

Izuku kept his legs crossed and a soft smile. He fought the desire to shift in his seat, knowing how talk show hosts picked apart any sign of weakness for the audience’s pleasure, even if it wasn’t on a predetermined script. “I don’t really think that tracks…,” Izuku’s reply wasn’t as well-thought out as it could have been. He was juggling to maintain composure and his reputation for a comment that was off-script. As the Symbol of Peace and the Number One Hero, Deku became rather strict about how his image was viewed.

“Oh, really?” Ema gave the audience and then Izuku an impressed look. (Y/n) noticed Izuku’s smile was less prominent now.

Izuku then took his Ema-branded and provided mug of coffee that was sitting on the table between them and gave a purposefully overexaggerated sip. The audience laughed. Ema laughed as well, and while everyone was distracted with Izuku’s slight diversion, he sent a glance at his personal assistant, who was standing just out of sight behind the stage. She understood what his look meant. Izuku continued to smile as he set the cup back down on the table.

Sakurai, Izuku’s assistant, quickly made her way over to Izuku’s head of PR team, Fukuda, who had already communicated to Ema’s team that Izuku would no longer be a guest on Ema in the future. Sakurai briefly mentioned that Ema should quickly change the topic or otherwise face a lawsuit for a breach of contract. The head of Ema’s team hurried to signal her from her earpiece.

“So, Uravity was–,” Ema hesitated, and Izuku knew she must have gotten the signal. “You and Uravity teamed up this past week against a class SS villain. What was that like?”

Izuku uncrossed his legs, smoothing his pants, much more comfortable to discuss hero work. (Y/n) lifted an eyebrow at the TV. She wondered what all that was about.

Katsuki’s kisses had a tendency to come with unchecked desperation, almost like he was searching for something within (Y/n). She wondered if he kissed Izuku with the same heat, but as her eyes watched him pulling away from Izuku, still sucking on his tongue, she couldn’t help but want a taste, too.

Izuku’s cock prodded against the inside of (Y/n)’s cheek, heavy and thick. Watching them kiss above her proved to be distracting, as her previously long licks and sucks mellowed into kitten licks. Izuku broke away from Katsuki once more, looking down at (Y/n) in his lap. His hand rested on her cheek with his thumb making its way between her lips, pulling her mouth open even further. She looked gorgeous – the most beautiful he’d seen her – with his hardened penis slipping slightly out from her slacked jaw.

“You okay?” He voiced his concern. He checked in with her more regularly than Katsuki did. (Y/n) was brought back to the task at hand, and she wrapped her lips around Izuku’s tip once again, swirling her tongue around his slit. Izuku watched, captivated, his chest heaving as he groaned with each suck. Katsuki’s cock bobbed next to her face as he kneeled next to her. It was almost teasing, the way it brushed against her jaw. She glanced up at Katsuki, now taking Izuku further into her mouth, allowing him to sink deeper as he tested her limits, but Katsuki was fixated on sucking on Izuku’s nipples. With a cock stuffing her throat, she sputtered, but Izuku stayed where he was.

“It’s okay, you’re doing fine,” came Izuku’s words from above her. She felt his hands on her jaw, massaging her neck to allow him in further. She whimpered around him, opening her mouth even wider as Izuku slipped almost to the hilt. “Oh, fuck… Watch the teeth, baby,” he directed her, feeling her throat swallow around his shaft. “Ohhhh, my god…”

Katsuki marveled at (Y/n). Tears were streaming down her face, the most he’d ever seen. He bent down, kissing Izuku’s navel and then his tuft of pubes before he felt (Y/n) attempt to push him off of her. Izuku pulled out immediately. Spit and precum engulfed Izuku’s cock and spilled out of (Y/n)’s mouth as she gasped for air. Izuku knelt down, capturing her lips in an open-mouth kiss, swallowing everything.

Katsuki yanked Izuku off of her, smashing his lips against Izuku’s. He’d been left out long enough. As soon as she recovered, (Y/n) hungrily took Katsuki’s cock into her mouth, making him moan against Izuku.

However, he hesitantly pulled away from her. He shared a glance with Izuku, and (Y/n) watched as they silently shared a conversation with just one look. Izuku met (Y/n)’s eye with a small, kind smile. He knelt down, embracing her and exchanging a sweet kiss on the lips before pulling away.

“Do you think… tonight is the night?”

(Y/n)’s stomach stirred at Izuku’s suggestion. She saw movement in the corner of her eye, finding Katsuki flicking his wrist around his shaft. He waited a moment before speaking up.

“She’s more than ready,” fervor dripped off his tongue. (Y/n) didn’t have a moment to reply, yelping as Katsuki repositioned her onto Izuku’s lap, lying her back against him and facing Katsuki. She finally got a good look at the Number Two Hero’s face, and he was damn near ravenous. She felt Izuku’s hands on her – or were they Katsuki’s? – stroking her arms, her legs, her hair. The men moved with such fluidity and harmony; someone was spreading her legs, and someone else was stroking her breast. Izuku’s hard cock pressed between her cheeks, mere centimeters away from her cunt.

A honeyed haze clouded Izuku’s foresight. “Lube, Kacchan,” Izuku held his hand out, and Katsuki passed him a tube of their preferred lubrication from the nightstand drawer. (Y/n)’s breathing picked up, but neither of them seemed to notice. Why weren’t they noticing? She heard Izuku pop open the tube, and Katsuki’s fingers were stroking her slit, paying particular attention to her clit. (Y/n) squirmed against Izuku, who shushed her. She was feeling hot, too hot, too warm. Everything was burning. They were too close, there were too many bodies. She was going to suffocate.

Izuku reached forward, and his lube-covered fingers gently prodded (Y/n)’s pussy, easily dipping inside. Izuku pulled out, reaching further to stroke her pucker with his fingers, making (Y/n) gasp and recoil slightly at the intrusion. Or were they Katsuki’s fingers? God, help her. Regardless, Katsuki laughed, low and sensual.

“Who’s takin’ which hole?” Katsuki addressed Izuku, his eyes fixated on (Y/n)’s sopping cunt. Izuku’s fingers swept through (Y/n)’s hair; he appeared to be thinking.

“Stop…”

Both men paused immediately.

“Stop, please.” Her voice was no more than a whisper; it surprised her they heard her at all.

Katsuki shot backwards, unraveling himself from (Y/n), while Izuku’s brow wrinkled into a furrow, looking down at her in his arms. They hadn’t noticed she’d been crying. Izuku swiftly shifted and turned her around in his lap, cradling her. It was almost instinctual how he attended to her.

“Hey…,” he was kind. He put on his hero tone, the one he used with children who cried after being saved. “What do you need from me, hm?” (Y/n) felt stupid and small when he spoke like that, but right now, it made her feel safe. (Y/n)’s silent tears quickly became sobs. Katsuki watched with wide eyes as Izuku rocked her softly. The men exchanged looks, but they said no words. Guilt washed over the two of them, but Katsuki felt it smack him harder than Izuku. “We stopped. We’re done, we stopped,” Izuku’s hushed whispers consoled her.

“I’m sorry,” Katsuki’s tone was muffled and quiet – or as quiet as it could be. The apology slipped out easily, naturally almost. How many times would he have to apologize to her? Katsuki didn’t move from his spot, kneeling at the corner of the bed, putting himself as far away from (Y/n) and Izuku as he could. Izuku pressed his lips to (Y/n)’s temple. He inhaled, smelling the sweet scent of her leave-in conditioner.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he uttered to her. Katsuki only watched, unsure what to do. Out of all of his years of quirk-training, his hands have never felt so heavy and out of his control. He wanted to help, to reach out and hold her, too, but he was afraid of making things worse.

“We don’t have to do anything else tonight,” Izuku stated, both to (Y/n) and Katsuki. (Y/n) then seemed to spring upright, and Izuku let her, watching as she wiped her tears away, but her sniffling remained.

“No, no. I can do this. I can,” she was convincing herself than the heroes. Izuku looked her in the eye, frowning. He kept himself from shaking his head. He felt like (Y/n) might be too sensitive for anything disapproving right now.

“Do you want to get some ice cream? Watch a movie, maybe?” Izuku offered alternative things to help calm (Y/n) down. Katsuki’s gaze turned downward. Something filled Katsuki, almost akin to envy but darker. They both had approached (Y/n), so why did he feel like the only bad guy in the room?

Katsuki huffed, unable to gather his words, watching (Y/n) slowly nod. She wasn’t ready for this. Not both of them, anyway.

Izuku leapt up from the bed. “Well, good!” Katsuki and (Y/n) watched him. Izuku shimmied back into his pajama bottoms. “Let’s go watch a movie, then.” He turned to face his partners, taking in (Y/n)’s red-rimmed eyes.

“I’ve been dying to watch the new Spider-Verse movie!” (Y/n) knew Izuku was trying to lighten the mood, and she appreciated it. He held her pajama shirt, which was previously forgotten about, along with her matching shorts on the bed. “Arms up!”

(Y/n) unenthusiastically put her arms up for Izuku to place her shirt over her head. The cotton slipped on easily, Izuku making sure her hair didn’t get caught anywhere. (Y/n) reached behind her and retrieved her shorts, slipping them on herself. Katsuki watched them both as he pulled his own pajama bottoms back on; Izuku hadn’t looked at him since they called it quits tonight. Neither had (Y/n).

Izuku held his hand out for (Y/n) to hold, and he pulled her to her feet. Her tears had dried, and her sniffling faded. She was shaken up, feeling guilty for leading them on. Katsuki watched Izuku lead (Y/n) out of the bedroom, heading for the living room to start the movie.

Katsuki sat on the bed, removing himself.

He slept in the bed alone that night, while Izuku and (Y/n) slept on the couch.

“We need to talk about last night,” Katsuki stood at the door of Izuku’s home office. It was six in the morning, and everyone was preparing for the day – Izuku and Katsuki more than (Y/n), who waded around in the kitchen with instant coffee in her hand, threatening to spill on the floor with each sleepy sip she took.

Izuku glanced up at Katsuki from his computer before returning his attention back to the monitor. Izuku liked to squeeze in a jog in the early mornings, so he wore blue gym shorts and a compression shirt that clung and stretched around his pectorals. He was trying to send some files to his work email and sidekicks before he started his day.

Izuku’s fingers moved with lightning dexterity on the keyboard. “We will,” he replied without looking at Katsuki. The latter scoffed.

“Will we?” Katsuki sounded more direct than he intended to, making Izuku finally offer a punitive stare in his direction. Katsuki glared back at him. All the All Mights on Izuku’s office merchandise seemed to become even more lifeless than they already were.

“Kacchan, I’ve got it handled,” Izuku attempted to pacify his partner. He was too tired for this. (Y/n) appeared beside Katsuki in the doorframe.

“Is something wrong?” She asked in the middle of a yawn. It was a question she found herself asking too often with these two. Katsuki all but pushed her into Izuku’s office.

“We need to talk about last night,” he blared, pulling out chairs for himself and her to sit in. Izuku rubbed his face, stretching the skin of the corners of his eyes, and ran a hand through his hair. When something nibbled at Katsuki’s nerves, he just couldn’t let it go. It was like an ice pick, picking away at his scalp. He wanted this settled, and he wanted this settled now.

“Katsuki, I’m supposed to be out the door by now,” Izuku tried.

“Too fuckin’ bad, Deku. Family meeting,” Katsuki slouched across from Izuku at his desk, his knees spread wide and his arms crossed, with (Y/n) sitting beside him. She just wanted this over with.

Izuku checked his watch. A gold Rolex that (Y/n) could’ve sworn she’d seen Katsuki wear before. They must’ve had matching ones.

“Alright,” Izuku relented with a sigh of a word, leaning down and rummaging through a drawer on his desk. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner everyone could start their day. Izuku sat back up, placing a few documents on the empty space of his desk. (Y/n) couldn’t see the details of the text from her angle.

“(Y/n), are you okay?” Izuku finally addressed her. They locked eyes, and the first thing (Y/n) noticed was that Izuku wasn’t smiling.

(Y/n) played with the ends of her hair – an anxious trait that both Katsuki and Izuku’s eyes flickered towards. “Yeah, I’m fine… Last night just shook me up a bit.”

“Is there anything we can do differently next time to make you more comfortable?” Izuku asked. (Y/n) glanced between the two of them. She couldn’t help but feel like this was a business transaction, especially being seated at Izuku’s desk like his consumers.

She stumbled over her words. “I don’t know. I mean, maybe? I was just overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to do.”

Katsuki butt in, louder than he should’ve been and shaking his head. “You didn’t have to do anything.” Izuku’s posture didn’t falter as he continued to face (Y/n), but he gave Katsuki a pointed look.

“We can try again whenever you feel ready. There’s no rush,” Izuku commented, picking up the forms and placing them back in a drawer of his desk. (Y/n) watched his scarred hands move about the polished cedar top, wondering if a similar one sat in his agency office.

Katsuki stared at Izuku. He already apologized, but Izuku had not. Katsuki’s finger tapped on his bicep.

“In the meantime,” Izuku’s gaze flickered away. He appeared hesitant. “We can establish a safe word. To use whenever you want us to stop what we’re doing.”

Katsuki looked to (Y/n), who glanced between the two heroes. “Safe word?”

“A word you say to let your partner know to stop everything. We can also use the traffic light system: green, yellow, red. Green means we can keep going, yellow typically means to slow down or check in, and red means to stop,” Izuku was on the cusp of rambling.

“Why can’t I just say ‘stop’?”

Izuku and Katsuki met eyes, and Katsuki scratched the back of his neck. Izuku answered.

“Sometimes, it can be unclear if you actually want to stop. A safe word allows for no discrepancies.”

(Y/n) nodded, but she wasn’t sure she understood quite yet. “Do you and Katsuki already have one?”

“It’s ‘Bronze Age’,” Katsuki grumbled. “Finger snapping if we can’t use our mouth.”

(Y/n)’s chest thumped at the implication. “Can I use the same, then?”

Both men nodded quietly, and Izuku finally smiled, checking his watch. 6:15am. He stood, ready to head to the door and go on a quick morning jog.

“You on birth control?” Katsuki blurted. Izuku jolted at what appeared to be his volume, pausing with his hands on the top of the desk just as he pushed his chair out to stand. It was admittedly a question he was also curious about. (Y/n) jumped, too, eyes bolting.

“I am.”

There was a pause no longer than a beat. “But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with unprotected sex! Um–!”

Izuku silently released a breath, and Katsuki relaxed, too.

The “family meeting” concluded itself, as Izuku would be running late if they continued. (Y/n) didn’t feel like this conversation was over, though. Izuku was the first to leave, skipping his morning jog entirely and throwing his daily routine off. It didn’t bother him as much as it would have Katsuki.

Katsuki waited at the door for (Y/n) to put her shoes on. He was dropping her off on campus today. He hadn’t said a word since Izuku left, but that was normal.

“Thank you for wanting to talk about that, Katsuki,” (Y/n) said as she tied her laces. Katsuki grunted in response.

“Izuku’s such a gentleman,” she was thinking aloud, remembering how Izuku prioritized her comfort over his own sexual pleasure. Safe words were a new concept to her, and she felt warm at being introduced to them. Katsuki snickered from above her, and she tilted her head to look at him.

“You kiddin’? Idiot fucks like a rabbit.”

Date nights felt magical and yet few and far between with Katsuki and Izuku. It was difficult for everyone’s schedules to correspond, and even more difficult for the heroes to put aside their hero mindsets to relax accordingly. Alcohol helped.

The trio sat in the VIP section of a high-end restaurant, much like the one on their first date. The only difference was this restaurant served freshly caught and prepared seafood, hibachi-style. (Y/n)’s anxiety was no secret, glancing around at the other patrons sitting lengths away with their backs turned to them, paying them no mind. No one even questioned who she was and why she was with the top two heroes when they all arrived. There were no paparazzi in sight, almost like they were barred off from this district, and Izuku and Katsuki were at ease.

It didn’t take a genius to realize that neither of them liked having the cameras on them at all times. Apart from their own suburban home, the small, dark corners of expensive restaurants seemed to be their only retreat into some semblance of normalcy. Katsuki had the decency to smile more often, and something that previously stiffened Izuku rolled off of him in waves, leaving behind a much looser, playful man.

“I can drink, too, right?” (Y/n) was being sarcastic, but she still hesitated when she reached for her sake. Izuku laughed and nodded. Katsuki smiled as he bit into his sushi.

“Yes, dear,” Izuku kid. He and Katsuki already had their share of sake, feeling warm. (Y/n) sipped on the hot liquor, feeling it mix nicely with her food in her belly.

“So, (Y/n),” Izuku started. “How’s work going?”

(Y/n) froze, almost dropping her chopsticks as she reached for the fatty tuna sushi.

“We haven’t heard you talk about it much lately,” Izuku added, focusing on his food. Katsuki eyed her. (Y/n) wanted to know where this serious-Izuku came from. Just a moment ago, they were laughing about how the lewdest photoshoot Izuku’s ever agreed to was a closeup of his middle and ring fingers, fingering a grapefruit. Izuku retorted by saying that the scandal of Katsuki’s suit being ripped around his crotch haunted the Explosion hero for years. Their agency still gets rather�� colorfully worded letters regarding the incident.

But now, (Y/n) felt all eyes at the table on her again.

“We know you’ve been missing work,” Katsuki was always grumbling. When he wasn’t grumbling or mumbling, he was shouting much too loud for any conversation he was a part of. (Y/n) had half the nerve to ask him to repeat himself.

“How–?”

“We’d stop by to grab a coffee, and you wouldn’t be there during the times you said you were,” Katsuki explained. (Y/n) quieted down.

Izuku spoke almost fluidly, like they’d already planned out this conversation ahead of time. “We were thinking you should quit your job.”

The table went silent. Katsuki stopped chewing, maybe even stopped moving, all to gauge (Y/n)’s response. Izuku watched her. The other guests of the restaurant carried on with their families, dates, and friends, ignorant of the debacle occurring just a few feet away from them.

Izuku felt the need to explain, his palms dry of any sweat that could have produced. “I mean, you’re living with us now. We’ve got you covered on the bills, tuition, anything else you need.” (Y/n) met his eye. He wasn’t smiling. She really, really wished he was smiling. Izuku trailed off, hinting that he wanted to know how (Y/n) felt about the idea. “I know, it’s sudden…”

“Izuku,” she started, “You always say ‘we,’ but how does Katsuki actually feel about me living here with you both, jobless?” (Y/n) felt resentment rise up into her words.

“It was my idea, actually.”

Katsuki.

(Y/n)’s head snapped in his direction. He wasn’t looking at her, but he met her eye with a sincere glint right when she turned to him. He was telling the truth.

(Y/n) slumped back in her seat, wanting to sink into the plush leather cushions of the booth seat. Her eyes skimmed the generous rations of food on the table, only half dug into, for an answer to their question.

“You don’t have to decide now–,” Izuku attempted to be gracious.

“But we already–,” Katsuki interrupted him.

“Kacchan,” Izuku firmed his tone.

“Don’t you fucking ‘Kacchan’ me,” Katsuki snapped, miraculously managing to keep his voice down, even lowering it an octave. He turned to (Y/n), getting heated. She could tell when he was getting upset by the way his upper lip curled into a small snarl. “We’ve already set up a bank account for your own personal use, and we’ve been wiring money to it every paycheck.” He whipped around back to his partner with a viciousness. “If she doesn’t decide now, I want that fucking money back in my wallet tomorrow. It’s been weeks of this shit.”

This was the first (Y/n) heard about this, and it made her dizzy. They have money where? For whom?

“Why haven’t–?” Before (Y/n) could finish her thought, Katsuki gave her an ultimatum.

“There’s 3 million yen – and counting – in a bank account that we’ll give you access to only if you agree to quit your job. Today.”

(Y/n) gaped at him, bewildered and brazened. What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Her thoughts couldn’t even form into the words she needed. Izuku was quiet, letting Katsuki say his piece.

“Don’t you ‘What the fuck’ me, either. Do we have an agreement?”

(Y/n)’s mind moved at ninety miles per hour comprehending the past two minutes. She quickly weighed the consequences, still feeling much too blurry. What were they asking of her exactly? Quit her job? How would she support herself? Oh, well, she’d have the 3 million yen in the bank… And she’s living with them now… Usually Katsuki is the one preparing her meals… They’re paying her tuition… Still, though, something felt innately anomalous for her. She’d been providing for herself since she was a teenager, and now suddenly, there’s two men in the picture who want to do all the hard work for her? She didn’t really know how to feel about that. However, at the same time, why was she fighting it? This could lead to an easier life for her. She’d been fighting for so long, and now an opportunity to just focus on her studies – something she’d been desiring forever – has just fallen in her lap.

“Can I think about it?” She had to try.

“You can think about it until it’s time for us to leave the restaurant. Then, I want a decision. Just fuckin’ knowin’ how some of my money’s just sitting in there for you makes me goddamn sick to my stomach.”

(Y/n) swallowed, feeling like she’d just been picked up and thrown every which way by the tornado that was Katsuki. He said it was his idea for her to quit, but now he’s upset about the entire thing? Her back felt tight. It’s been hurting lately whenever her anxiety acted up.

Work at Satou’s for 900 yen an hour or rely on Katsuki and Izuku fully? At least now she can say she’s not cheap; her pride cost 3 million yen. Still, she was hesitant. And stubborn.

“Would there be restrictions on how I use that money?”

Izuku shook his head, looking at Katsuki, who turned away, resting his cheek in his palm. “You’re going to get your own card, and we’re going to be putting money regularly in the account. Like, an allowance,” he explained. Katsuki seemed to withdraw from the conversation entirely.

“’Allowance’ as in I need to earn this money?” (Y/n) hammered him.

Once again, he shook his head. “No. ‘Allowance’ as in Kacchan and I will continue putting aside money from our paychecks and wiring it to your account for you to use.”

(Y/n)’s stare seemed to harden just a pinch. “If I quit, can I still work my last two weeks?”

“Yes,” Izuku affirmed matter-of-factly. Katsuki tapped his finger.

(Y/n) had to think about what she was going to tell Hana.

The room felt heated – maybe it even was, (Y/n) couldn’t tell anymore – and the bodies were so, so warm. Especially Katsuki. (Y/n) told him that he ran hot, and he told her to shut the fuck up before spreading her legs to dip his tongue into her cunt. Izuku slipped underneath Katsuki, wrapping his lips around his hardened cock and sticking his tongue out to lick around the base of his shaft while the head prodded the back of throat. Katsuki gasped into (Y/n)’s pussy, her slick covering his chin. He reveled in the sensation of Izuku sucking him off from underneath, feeling him wrap his hands around his hips, pulling his ass down further, encouraging him to fuck his mouth. Instead, Katsuki pulled his hips back, bringing his tip to Izuku’s lips. He knew that if he fucked his throat, he was going to cum early, and he was trying to hold out. Katsuki’s lips encircled around (Y/n)’s clit, sucking and nibbling, and her hands pulled on his hair. He pulled away to watch as he inserted a finger into her, and then a second one, before flicking his tongue against her clit once more.

She came quickly and in waves, splashing on his chin and down his neck to his chest, squealing like a freshly made porn star.

“Oh my fucking god,” Katsuki was mesmerized at the mess she made as he finger-fucked her through it, encouraging her to squirt more. “More, keep coming, c’mon.”

Izuku’s hands had wandered, and while he continued to suck Katsuki off from underneath him, his fingers were tracing a line up his ass. He spread Katsuki’s cheeks, eliciting a groan from his partner from above.

Katsuki pulled off (Y/n)’s breast with a wet pop. “Deepthroat,” Katsuki instructed before returning to his suckling. Or demanded, depending on the outlook. Regardless, Izuku did as he was told, relaxing his throat and feeling Katsuki begin to lightly thrust his hips. (Y/n) watched Katsuki’s hips move, running her hand through his hair as he popped from one tit to the other. He thrusted lightly into Izuku’s mouth, careful of his partner’s gag reflex, even though (Y/n) was sure Izuku didn’t have one. She watched as Izuku used his free hand to stroke himself, taking note of his technique to pleasure himself – when he twists his wrist near the tip of his cock, how tight of a grip he uses, how he plays with his balls. One of Izuku’s fingers on his other hand circled around Katsuki’s asshole, and she bit her lip. Suddenly, Katsuki pulled away from both of them, flushed and panting.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum if we keep this up,” he was out of breath. “I need a minute.”

Izuku laughed and nodded, still on his back on the bed. (Y/n) was also breathless, but she felt intentional.

“I want to try tonight.”

Both of the men looked at her. “You sure?” Izuku asked. He was looking at her upside down. (Y/n) nodded. Izuku sat up, reaching for her hand and pulling her forward. (Y/n) collided into his chest, but he was smiling. She loved when Izuku smiled.

“We have to figure out how to do this, then.”

Katsuki was back in once he heard this, and he already had an idea in mind.

“Deku on bottom. I’ll be in the back,” he was stroking dick as he spoke. Izuku started to move into position when he felt (Y/n)’s hesitance.

“I-um…,” (Y/n)’s guilt made her tentative, “I don’t think I’m actually ready for… Both of you…”

They all stilled. Katsuki’s hand ceased its motions mid-stroke. “Maybe just one at a time? Or just one today?” She offered, but she had to keep herself from wincing because the suggestion felt like nails on a chalkboard.

(Y/n) couldn’t see, but Izuku and Katsuki looked at each other. They were trying to determine who it was going to be that took her virginity. Katsuki turned to (Y/n).

“Who do you want it to be?”

Izuku watched carefully. (Y/n) held back a groan, feeling the tension. Why couldn’t they just rock-paper-scissors this shit out?

Izuku opts himself out. “I’ll wait my turn,” he smiles, but (Y/n) can tell it doesn’t meet his eyes. “Can I hold you while he fucks you?” (Y/n) nodded quietly.

Izuku shifted on the bed, moving behind (Y/n), cradling her between his legs. He’s still hard; (Y/n) can feel him between her shoulder blades, leaking precum against her neck. His touch was soft, pulling her hair out of her face and placing kisses on her temple and ear. She melded into him. It was his job to make her feel comfortable right now. He liked to watch, anyway.

Katsuki got a good look at her as he spread her legs. He tapped her inner thigh as he stroked himself, the condom wrapper in his mouth.

“S’read your t’ighs mure,” Katsuki said, lowering his tone. (Y/n) did as she was told; she would’ve normally been really embarrassed about doing this if she hadn’t just squirted all over his face a few moments ago. Katsuki ripped the condom open, carefully rolling it onto his hard girth. (Y/n) thought it looked really weird – seeing a penis covered in latex.

Katsuki flicked her clit a couple of times, making her flinch and hiss, but she bit her lip once she saw him grip the base of his cock, lining himself up with her cunt. Izuku praised her as he pushed in. Katsuki let out the most guttural groan she thought she’d ever heard from him.

“Oh my fucking god, how are you this tight?”

“Shhh, you’re doing so good, baby. You remember your safe word, right?”

Katsuki was going as slow as he could, but holy fuck, was he barely making it by. He ground his teeth in order to still his hips from pounding into her. Izuku’s hands busied themselves by either playing with her nipples or stroking her hair, but he couldn’t pull his eyes from Katsuki’s thick, long cock sinking deeper and deeper into (Y/n)’s tight, virgin pussy. He felt the jealousy pull at him, but he pushed it back; he was going to get his turn. Katsuki had to be first at everything, after all. Maybe this was Izuku’s punishment for being the Number One Hero.

He had been so entranced by how well (Y/n) was swallowing up Katsuki, he’d forgotten to check in with her. He glanced down at her face; she was grimacing and breathing like she was giving birth. He kissed her. “You’re okay, you’re doing so, so well. You’re so beautiful, so gorgeous. Look at how well you’re taking him.”

“Ohhhh my god,” (Y/n) moaned.

“Shit, you’re bleeding,” Katsuki’s hips stopped moving. He was halfway in. He’d never been someone’s first before, so he was taken off guard. “Do you want to keep going? We can stop if–?”

(Y/n) thought it was sweet when Katsuki let his worrywart out. She shook her head vehemently, smacking Izuku with her hair.

“No, no, no, it’s just starting to feel goo-mmmm!”

“Fuck her through it, Kacchan,” came Izuku’s order. Katsuki nodded, too captivated by how tightly her cunt was squeezing him to bite back. He repositioned slightly, giving himself a better angle, and rolled his hips slowly. (Y/n) yelped, her eyes rolling back. Katsuki thrusted with precision and practice, and he was going slow for her. Izuku’s eyes flickered from where their sexes met to (Y/n)’s face, both giving him fuel for his own pleasure as he stroked himself.

Katsuki’s breath quickened, and Izuku recognized that it was getting harder and harder for him to control his pace. His hands balled up the sheets beside them; Izuku was surprised his quirk hadn’t activated. Perhaps, he thought too little of Kacchan’s control over himself. That had really only happened about a handful of times. Still, he seemed afraid to touch (Y/n). Izuku has been the one caressing (Y/n)’s body, while Katsuki has been the one doing the fucking.

“If you want him to speed up, you have to tell him, love,” Izuku uttered to (Y/n).

“Faster, Katsuki. Faster, please!”

That was the only permission Katsuki needed.

Katsuki leaned forward, gripping the headboard beside Izuku’s head, rolling his hips with a sudden urgency about them. The sound of skin slapping filled the room, and Izuku was getting close to his own orgasm, too. Katsuki must’ve been close the entire time, but he was drawing it out for (Y/n).

Izuku just brought (Y/n) to her third orgasm by stroking her clit, making her cunt clench even tighter around Katsuki. (Y/n)’s head had been bobbing onto Izuku’s shoulder for some time now, already fucked out even from Katsuki’s previously slow pace.

Izuku reached down, wrapping a hand around (Y/n)’s neck, pulling her head up and holding her by her jaw. He pressed lightly on the sides of her neck, testing the waters.

“Watch him fuck you. Look him in the eye while he fucks you.”

“Izuku–!”

Katsuki looked up from where he was splitting her open and met her eye. His hips slammed into her once, twice, three times.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming, oh my fucking god,” Katuski groaned, filling the condom with his seed. He leaned over his partners, his softening cock pulling out of (Y/n). Izuku leaned up for a kiss, which Katsuki happily indulged. Katsuki moved from between (Y/n)’s legs.

“Your turn,” Katsuki had quickly recuperated, but (Y/n) was a different story. She whined, and both men turned to her.

“I’m… I think I’m done,” she was tired and sore. She wanted to go to bed. If Izuku was hurt, he didn’t show it. Or he thought he didn’t. Katsuki glanced at his boyfriend. Izuku didn’t look at him. He just knelt down and kissed (Y/n) on the forehead.

“Another time, then.”

#tto #the story is finally picking up #deku x bakugou x reader #midoriya x reader x bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakudeku x reader

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crymzin-gutz · 1 month ago

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ᴺⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᴸⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵀᵒᵒⁿ.

(Cholly x Reader)

Cholly belongs to @heartfullofleeches

Tw: Slight body horror. Slight gore/blood descriptions. Suicide attempt (failed) by reader towards the end of the story.

October was becoming comfortable. Settling over the world, it chills the winds and turns the leaves into varying shades of oranges, reds, and browns, as they fall dead to the ground. The cold before the plague of winter.

You draped your body across the three seat cushions of your well-loved, and used, orange-brown couch. A hand rested on your stomach, lazily holding the remote, and the other hangs off of the side of the couch, your fingertips just barely touching the cold wooden panels of your flooring. Floors that needed to be swept- but that was a chore for another day. Today you didn’t plan on doing anything, it was your ‘binge-and-be lazy’ day; to do anything today would be sacrilegious. You didn’t have any plans, except to binge watch the many old horror films that were being ran on cable; and maybe if you felt like it, you’d cook dinner tonight. Though- ordering a pizza or two was always an appetizing option.

A black and white film was currently being played out on your television. Some old zombie flick. You hadn’t really been paying much attention when the title of the movie had been shown a while ago. Screams, panic, and mayhem being enacted on the screen for your entertainment. People being attacked and eaten, with blocky captions being typed out at the bottom of your screen. The captioning of ‘`Screams`’ was something you found slightly comedic. Seeming so bored and monotone when in comparison to the cheesy horror being played. Adding that special touch that just made it all that more entertaining.

The TV wasn’t up loud enough for you to miss the sound of someone creeping up behind you. The person’s (you still can’t tell if that adjective works for them, with them not really being a ‘person’ in the first place.) instinctual need to add music behind their attempt to be sneaky didn’t help them any. “Dudh dudh. Dudh dudh. Dudh dudh dudh.” Cholly audibly hums out, voice growing louder the closer they got. It was cute. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing and giving them away further. You didn’t want to spoil their fun. Afterall, you’ve grown quite fond of the living cartoon rabbit ever since they jumped out of your TV screen a year ago.

You kept your eyes focused on the gory scene -well as gory as a black and white film can be- being shown, while you listened to Cholly sneak up closer and closer behind you. You could just faintly make out the reflection of his fluffy long brown ears peeking over the couch on the television screen. They had gone quiet- which couldn’t mean anything good. The sounds of the movie quickly dominated the air. You were about to ask them what they were up to, when one of the human characters got attacked by one of the zombies in the movie. You were caught off guard, your attention having been focused on Cholly, you had stopped paying any real attention to the movie. Her painful screams cause you to flinch. Your body jumping upwards into a tense sitting position, your attention being forced back on the movie. And turning a blind eye to Cholly in the process. Giving them the perfect opportunity to strike.

As your attention is focused back onto the movie, wide eyes trained on the attack taking place, Cholly springs up from behind the couch like a jack-in-the-box. It all happened so quickly. One moment you were seeing his reflection pop up behind you, the next there was a burning pain shooting up your neck. A scream tears harshly from your throat as you jerk yourself forward, trying to escape whatever was hurting you. You hadn’t had the chance to process what had caused you pain. Not before the culprit was sobbing out terrified apologies.

“ Oh god! I-...I didn’t mean to, Sweets! Promise ya I didn’t!” Cholly blabbers out in wet sobs.

Rushing around the couch so they could face you. The look on Cholly’s face was one of pure dismay. The toon stood before you like a sinner before judgment. They're wearing a stereotypical and rather cartoon-ish looking vampire costume. The fur around their mouth is slightly damp, and it’s not because of the tears that are streaming down their cheeks. It’s wet with something darker. Their two front teeth are bloodied. They’re desperately wiping at their face, trying to clean themselves of their sin.

They look like they want to come closer, with how they nervously reach out towards you before pulling their paw back to their side. Their whole body shaking with their despair over the damage they have caused. Their long brown ears drooped and hung limply. You were surprised that there wasn’t a rain cloud brewing above their head. Gingerly you reach up to touch at where the pain was coming from. Cholly rushes forward with a pained sound of their own when you hiss sharply and quickly pull your hand away. Your fingers coming away warm and wet. You were bleeding, and you were bleeding a lot. Which explains the mess around Cholly’s mouth.

“I didn’t mean to bite you that hard.” Cholly whimpers. “I really didn’t! I’d never EVER dream of hurting you. It was just supposed to be a joke! A light nibble is all.” They desperately try to explain themselves as they fret over you. Not touching you. No, they were too afraid to accidentally cause you anymore harm.

You swallow the knot that had tied itself in your throat. “It’s…It’s fine, Cholly. Accidents happen.” You reassure them, giving them a tight lipped smile. “I have a first aids kit in the bathroom, do you mind getting it for me?”

Cholly is quick to rush off. Quick to try and make amends for their mistake. Their betrayal. You watch them rush off like the devil was on their heels, keeping a hand pressed to the side of your neck no matter how much it stung to touch. You couldn’t help but feel nauseous as you felt your blood run down the curve of your neck. Your stomach twisting itself up, as an uneasy feeling of dread slowly seeps into your gut.

The rhythmic sound of the knife hitting the chopping block as it slices through the potatoes you plan on using in your lunch stew fills your ears as your brain wanders. Thoughts drifting as you slide the chopped potatoes into the pot of water and start working on the next one. It has been about a week, give or take, since Cholly had bitten you. It was an accident, and you had already forgiven the rabbit that same day. The bite had looked worse than it was, it bleed far more than necessary for a surface level wound. Sure, it was one nasty bite. Their teeth had managed to break through a few layers of skin, but it wasn’t anything serious. At worst, it’ll leave a scar after the injury has healed. Atleast- that is what you had originally thought while Cholly had helped you bandage your neck, having insisted that they were to be the one to do it.

You can’t say that you believe that anymore. Not after these past few days.

It had taken a bit for you to notice any difference. Having started small at first, it was subtle. Changes that hadn’t gone unnoticed, but just didn’t seem important enough for you to really pay any mind to them. Why would you? It’s not like a sudden increase of energy was all that worrisome. Everyone has days where they are more energetic than the one prior. You had actually enjoyed it the first day or two, when you were able to get your chores done easier and faster. It was nice when things that used to take up so much of your energy, didn’t even seem to drain you a little bit anymore. You were able to do so much. You even started on some hobbies that you’ve never had the time or energy to get around to.

You enjoyed the increase of energy. That is until you could no longer stop. You started waking up feeling as if you had taken shots of espresso in your sleep. You’d wake up restless and wired, itching to get up and do something. And that’s only if you were able to fall asleep the night before. You’ve been struggling with sleep, you could hardly sleep nowadays and yet you aren’t tired. Not even a little bit. Instead there is a constant restless buzz in your bones. It’s an invader in your body that you can’t seem to exercise. You can’t seem to escape from it. It won’t. Leave. You. Alone.

It’s not like you were foaming at the mouth, or losing control of your limbs. No, nothing that sensible. You just couldn’t stop. You just… you constantly needed to be going. You were becoming an unstoppable force that not even you could control anymore. Your body wasn’t yours to control anymore, it was not yours to puppeteer around. Your fingers tapped on surfaces on their own accord, drumming out the beat of a song you did not know. Your body sways back and forth, to and for on your heels if you dare to stand in one place for any longer than a minute.

Your brain was constantly moving at the speed of a freight train. Thoughts passing by in a blur, so fast you could only catch glimpses of what your brain was trying to say to you. Your thoughts were screaming in your ears, coming together in a blur of noise that you could no longer make heads or tails of. You could not understand your own brain anymore. It was losing you and you were losing it.

You can feel it now. There’s an itch at the back of your brain that never stops scratching. It’s an itch that tells you that something is wrong with you. In you. There’s something different about you, something that is changing about you that you can’t stop. You can feel it messing around in your body. Changing things that aren’t meant to be changed. You know it’s there. Your brain is warning you, begging you to take notice and do something! But you can’t do anything because you don’t know what it is- “Fuck!” You jerk your hand away, dropping the knife as it clatters on to the tiled kitchen floor. You look down in horror at the finger you had just cut down upon. You had felt the knife slam down on it with enough force to cut halfway through it.

Your finger didn’t even have a nick.

“Doll!”

You can hear Cholly on the other side of the door. Their knuckles desperately beating on wood.

“Come on, please, Doll! Just open the door! We can figure this out together.”

You can hear them, though their voice sounds distant. Not just in the way of the locked bathroom door separating you two. But in the way that though these ears hear the words being spoken, by the time they reach your brain they’ve become submerged in water.

Staring at the person staring back at you in the mirror, tears blur your vision but the image of them is burnt into your mind. You couldn’t possibly forget what they looked like, not when their features have been haunting you for days. Maybe it’s the fur, you numbly ponder, which has their words seeming muffled. You reach up with one hand, and grab hold of one of the rabbit-like ears by the base, and give it an experimental tug. Flinching at the dull ache that comes with it. They’re real. You know, yet you can’t help but to constantly check. You desperately hope for it not to be, for this all to be some fever dream that you just can’t seem to wake up from. A laugh tumbles out from your lips like broken glass, because of course you can’t wake up. No, no. That would be ridiculous, as this isn’t a dream. No, this is your reality. It has been for awhile now, slowly unfolding before you. Slow enough for you to watch it happening bit by bit, but too fast for you to stop it.

The bathroom door shakes as Cholly rams his body against it. Trying to get in to stop you. Your eyes drift over to the door, watching as it shakes with every slam of Cholly’s body against it. The doorknob rattles. “[Censor beep]! JUST OPEN THE DOOR!” The gun feels heavy in your hand, and your hand trembles as you hold it up to your temple. You don’t want to die. Atleast, you don't think you do. You don’t really know. You don’t know a lot of late, you don’t even know yourself. How can you when you’re not even sure you are yourself anymore? Can you still be yourself when so much has changed? Are you still yourself if you are a character of who you used to be?

You don’t know.

You don’t know. You don’t know. You don’t know! You don’t know! You don’t know! You don’t know! You don’t know! You don’t know! YoU Don’T KnOW! You dOn’T KNow! YOu DoN’t KNoW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE ANYMORE!

Click. Bang!

The gun goes off.

Cholly screams your name.

The bathroom door breaks, wood splintering as it breaks off of its hinges.

You blink, tears stopping, and you lower the gun from your head, and you look down at it.

Sticking out of the barrel is a white flag, and written in big, black, bold letters is the word ‘BANG!’. It was almost comedic.

#heartfullofleeches #Leeches-eve #Cholly #Cholly x Reader #cartoon rabbit x reader #yandere cartoon rabbit x reader #x gn reader #x reader #spooktober #fanfic

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crazycoke-addict · 2 months ago

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Island of the Slaughtered Game

Genre: Horror

Description:

It's been 10 years since The Massacre that happened in Camp Wawanakwa. 22 teenagers from different backgrounds sign up to be in a reality show called Total Drama Island. Unbeknownst to them, a serial killer is on the loose and picks off the teenagers one by one. Only 7 are recorded to be alive. From the disappearance to the murders, the case remains unsolved to this day. Who was the killer? What was the motive?

Today, I will find out everything.

The game starts with your character in a boat sailing to the island. There is a speech bubble at the bottom of the screen. The protagonist is talking about the unsolved case about what happened in Camp Wawanakwa. They also explained how the seven survivors have gone MIA, and neither of them have spoken out what happened.

During the intro, they hear bump coming from underneath the boat. When they lean over, something jumps out of the water and drags them in the water. In the next scene, you wake up and find yourself in Camp Wawanakwa. You look through your supplies, and you take out your torch. You find your boat that's been wreck. You need to find supplies to fix your boat. While walking, you hear rustle behind you when you turn around. You see nothing, but there is something there in your glaring view.

While walking around, you find a VHS tape lying near a tree. You comment on how it's been so long since you seen VHS tapes. The VHS tape is titled 'Behind the scenes', You hope the VHS tape might give you some answers you're looking for.

You ended up in the cabin section and decided to look through the cabins. However, 3 of the cabins are locked except for one. The cabin room in that's located in the west. You decide to go in, and while looking you around, you notice the belongings of boy's clothes, deodorants, a cowboy hat, a keyboard, etc. You hear rustling under one of the bunk beds. You tried to leave the cabin, but the door has been closed. When you turn around, a human head is placed on the dresser looking at you.

The game won't leave you go anywhere else, but straight to the dresser where the head is. The head starts talking to the player. They explain how it's been so long since anyone has visited the camp. They miss human interaction since they never really got that back while they were living. The head talks about how they don't know how they got to the position their in, but their body parts in places where they shouldn't be. The head asks the player to help them find their body parts.

This section of the game kicks off the first of many mini games that the game is going to give. An instruction will appear on the screen to help you. In the top corner, there will be a 0/5. I'm pretty sure everybody knows that this is Ezekiel. Some of the characters are going to have a mini game.

Ezekiel - find his body parts before time runs out.

Justin - break every mirror that Justin appears in.

Harold- you have to play a video game. After you fix the tv.

Trent - you have to fix and play his guitar. It's like a memory game.

The main menu will have an old cable TV, which you end up getting after fixing the TV in order to do Harold's game. You must collect 17 VHS tapes in order to get the Canon ending. There are going to be 4 endings, which are going to be good ending, the bad ending, the curse ending, and obviously the Canon ending.

Some ghosts like Lindsay, Sadie, and Bridgette will be active, where they will follow the main character. You can weaken them by throwing a flame flare, which you'll end up finding during your mission. I also think it will be interesting that the main character that we are playing is one of the 2nd generation characters. I'm leaning towards Mike.

#island of the slaughtered #total drama island #horror game #an idea #total drama action #total drama world tour #total drama revenge of the island #total drama all stars

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callmespikey · 1 year ago

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IT'S NOT ME ED

IT'S NOT ME ED is a Ed, Edd n Eddy fanmade heist webcomic. In it, The Eds in disguised as thieves, there plan is to break in the Candy Store at night in order to shoplifting as many as jawbreakers as they can. But of course they will meet a bigger threat how will try to stop them.

Created by CallMeSpikey and it was published on Tumblr on 21.10.23 ext.

Plot:

We observe three shadowy figures against the backdrop of a luminous full moon. The Eds approach the Candy Store at midnight, and while Eddy notices a back alley behind brick walls, they spot a surveillance camera. To avoid detection, they shoot a spitball through bubble gum at the camera without attracting any attention to themselves. Meanwhile, Eddy directs Ed to fling the bag onto the roof. Without hesitation, Ed tosses it into the sky only for it to land directly on top of Eddy's head. Although impressed with himself, Ed receives an irritated look from Eddy who shifts focus and proceeds to explain his plan on how to break into the store and how he anticipates it will work out for them.

Ed seems to be on board with Eddy's plan for excitement, while Edd expresses concern about breaking and entering at midnight and committing a criminal act. However, Eddy interrupts Double D to convince him that this is not the same old scam as before and to stay calm. Ed joins in by taunting Edd for being the teacher's pet and suggesting that rules are only for nerds. This upsets Double D, who chastises Ed and Eddy for calling him a geek but ultimately agrees to go along with the plan.

The Eds get to work by climbing onto the rooftop and unpacking supplies such as an antenna, controller, butter toast, and Kevin's TV (which they most likely stole beforehand). Meanwhile, Double D prepares his new invention - the Lock & Roll 3000 - which includes spider-drones designed to transmit signals to Kevin's TV in order to record specific locations. Ed comments on how it reminds him of a video game he has played before.

Eddy couldn't care less about Double D's invention; instead he orders him to place one of the drones inside the vents, press the power button, activate it and start going through them.

Initially, the drone appears to fulfill its purpose of scanning the area and ensuring safety for entering or exiting through vents. The Eds observe the transmission on TV while Edd is responsible for controlling the bot. As the drone navigates deeper into the vents, Eddy points to an air duct on the left, prompting it to zoom closer and directly view inside a sweet shop where jawbreakers are displayed. Further investigation leads to an eager rodent appearing out of nowhere and interrupting the drone's work. Double D attempts to scare it off by spraying with clean soap perfume, resulting in apparent victory when the rodent runs away and leaves them alone. The drone goes back to business as usual.

Unfortunately, matters worsen when more of these rodents appear seeking revenge against the drone teaming up by biting off cables as if they were legs that could fall apart at any moment. Regrettably, this leads to complete destruction of both cable connections and renders TV views useless as white noise dominates screens everywhere leaving no other options but going inside Candy Store in person according to Edd who tells his friends Eddy and Ed about their predicament.

The only means of accessing the interior is through the roof, descending down a vent. Edd imposes strict rules against entering due to an abundance of dirt, dust, bacteria and other allergens. Despite this, Eddy urges his friends to venture inside the vent with greater force until they all become overwhelmed. The trio are propelled at lightning speed through a labyrinthine network of passages, hurtling ever faster until an interminable hour has passed. Undeterred by the twisting maze-like passages, they persevere and eventually burst out into an open crawl space vent - careening in a dizzying ride that launches them completely outside of the ventilation system. After taking a brief interval to regain their composure, they inexplicably find themselves standing before an unfamiliar office room.

In a fit of fury, Eddy seethes with indignation as he realizes that they have mistakenly entered the wrong room. Edd promptly retrieves the planning map and scrutinizes their current location, informing his companions that gaining access to the sugar confections is impossible due to all doors being locked at night without an employee key. While Eddy appears on the verge of scrapping their entire plan, panic sets in for Edd who fears repercussions from his own parents for engaging in criminal activity - branding himself as a contemptuous burglar and bringing shame upon society under the guise of justice.

As Eddy and Edd engaged in a heated argument, Ed espied an open door on their right. Intrigued by what he saw, he made his way towards it with the others in tow. Upon closer inspection, they discovered that it was a CCTV control and monitoring room replete with antiquated computers, outdated hardware, a well-worn telephone for convenience, remnants of sandwiches past, ten cups of coffee and eight TV monitors showing mostly B-movie monster flicks and black-and-white noir crime dramas. However, as they were about to delve further into their investigation, they suddenly became aware that they were not alone after all. A security guard sat in the chair before them watching something on television while munching on snacks simultaneously. As this happened, his personality quickly revealed its true colors as he began to unleash spiteful curses and insults at the TV screen before him.

Double D cautions the group about underestimating the appearance of the formidable guard. Upon spotting the keys on a desk, Eddy recognizes an opportunity but lacks knowledge on how to retrieve them. Ed's mind suddenly conjures up an idea inspired by a movie he has watched countless times called "The Revenge of Dr. Maize." Despite its absurdity, Eddy allows Ed to proceed with his plan as it is their only option. Ed distracts the security personnel by pouring a noxious mixture consisting of gravy and ancient cheese from his closet along with other unsavory contents straight into his coffee cup while placing a filthy cocktail umbrella atop it for good measure. After two minutes, the guard lifts up his cup and consumes all its contents which causes him to spiral into insanity and fall asleep due to hallucinations induced by what he drank. Surprised that their plan worked flawlessly, Eddy commends Lumpy's creative imagination but swiftly forgets about it as they focus on obtaining their target jawbreakers stored behind a locked door. The trio successfully retrieves as many jawbreakers as possible until they hear strange sounds emanating from within one of the vents where they discover that a previously damaged drone has inexplicably reactivated itself before careening out through another vent and landing squarely onto the panic alarm button causing it to wail incessantly in warning.

Naturally, the security guard awakens in a state of confusion as he is unsure of what has transpired. However, he does not dwell on it as he hears the alarm and rushes to the sweet shop. Upon arrival, he witnesses three amateurish youngsters attempting to pilfer the entire store. The guard's demeanor changes drastically as he unleashes his true nature and enters into an enraged mode, relentlessly pursuing The Eds. They proceed to wreak havoc on the shop as if playing a game of cat and mouse. Eventually, all three culprits flee from the scene through the exit door.

A tranquil morning is abruptly interrupted as The Eds gleefully exit the Candy Store with their hands full of jawbreakers, reveling in their victorious success. However, their elation is short-lived as Peach Creek's police officers arrive and apprehend them. To make matters worse, a fuming guard approaches from behind, causing The Eds to scream in terror at the impending punishment that awaits them.

As the next day goes by in Peach Creek Jr. High at The Football Field The Eds unsuccessfully didn't steal the jawbreakers as plan should be, they now have to do push-up all day while Frank is there as a gym teacher watching them very closely to make sure as the punishment is fulfilling for committed crime of burglary. Meanwhile, Kevin and Rolf arrive and proceed to deride them with disdainful laughter, as if their predicament could not conceivably deteriorate any worser.

Trivia:

Eddy’s thief outfit is the same one from Christmas special episode Ed, Edd n Eddy’s Jingle Jingle Jangle.

Throughout the comic, there is several references to real life film, theater, and TV shows are made:

Guard’s design and personality is inspired by the character Gunnery Sergeant Hartman from War drama film``Full Metal Jacket`` played by actor Lee Ermey when comes to his harsh, foul-mouthed and ruthless as an drill instructor.

When the guard is watching on the camera monitors, he says ``You ding-dong!`` This is a reference to the Tokusatsu film ``The Last Dinosaur``(1977) and the quote by the actor Richard Boone.

When Ed is distracts Guard on duty by pouring gravy, a very stinky old cheese being in Ed's closet for many years and taks of his shoe to his coffee. This is a reference to a scene in British comedy film ``Mr Bean: The Ultimate Disaster Movie`` (1997.)

The Webcomic Title IT'S NOT ME ED is a reference to the song ``It’s Not Me by Arthur Benson.``

There is a moral lesson in this webcomic. Do shoplift, but not like this." Under capitalism, much which is illegal is nevertheless ethical.

The Mechanical Crank is used as a tool to get up at roof top of the Candy Store, before it was use in 8th episode of Season 1 ``Virt-Ed-Go`` when The Eds build their own clubhouse.

In the left on top of camera monitor screen-on CCTV, is a cameo of Fish Bowl 2 which first appearance in 2nd episode of Season 1 ``Nagged to Ed.``

Please note that this project is a work in progress, as I am still learning my skills in various aspects of the craft such as drawing, writing, storyboarding, background and character design, dialogue composition and coloration. What you are currently reading is merely an idea that exists within the confines of my imagination. I am also going to rewrite the webcomic in order to improve upon any grammatical errors.

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duckymcdoorknob · 1 year ago

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Heyo again! I have returned for the final order!

If it's alright, I'd like to order a medium iced coffee with extra ice; the toppings are cream + sugar and caster sugar (and possibly sea salt but that's optional :3) The name on the order is Joe :3

Thank you again! Here's my payment! :3 Have an amazing day and take your time with everything friend! Here's to an incredible event!

WIDHIDBSJWN DA FUCKING C A T E

HelLO WELCOME TO ORDER NUMBER 3 >:)

This one is self indulgent and was so cute 🙁❤️

CW BELOW THE CUT: None!

♫ -ᥕᥲі𝗍ᥱr, ᥕᥲі𝗍ᥱr, ⍴ᥱrᥴ᥆ᥣᥲ𝗍᥆r- ☕️

You never could’ve imagined that playing with your aunt’s spare camera would lead you to many, wonderful adventures. After picking up your first camera as a child, you fell in love with photography. Overtime, you developed a passion and talent for the craft, leading you to post your shots. After a while, you gained popularity, and the attention of a certain family…

Next thing you knew, you were hired by the Chinens to photograph Miya’s competitions. You didn’t much mind, though, since the boy was a riot.

Miya kept you entertained as you photographed. There was something so enticing about the way he performed his tricks. Your shots were beautiful, sending you, and your employers, home with a large portfolio of photographs.

After a competition, the boy begged his parents to go to a restaurant. They agreed and, to your shock and delight, invited you along.

It was there that you would meet the rest of Miya’s friends, and the owner of the place: Kojiro Nanjo.

From that point, you were deeply immersed in the world of skating, and “S” itself. You had become fast friends with everyone, for you found yourself feeling strangely comfortable around the motley crew.

You decided to keep your photography a secret from the rest of them, and begged Miya to do the same. You had a great plan in mind…

At every race one of your boys was in, you would discreetly follow him down the path and take action shots. After a while, each had their own portfolio stuffed to the brim with photos.

When Christmas came, you printed each of their photos and tied them neatly with a ribbon. They were all overjoyed to have such beautiful photos as a keepsake, but were careful to keep them hidden away.

It wasn’t long before word spread of your talents, and soon enough you found yourself as the official “S” photographer. The skaters would commission you mostly, but sometimes you would grab a few shots for practice.

After a while, skater after skater wanted their photos taken, and it became supremely overwhelming.

After a killer night of tournaments, you found yourselves all relaxing at Hiromi’s apartment, the seven of you somehow fitting in the three roomed place.

Miya, who had insisted that he wasn’t tired, was currently curled up on the floor with his head in Kaoru’s lap, the man running his fingers through the boy’s hair absentmindedly.

Kojiro, Hiromi, Reki, and Langa were all seated on the floor and watching your photo processing, since Miya had begged you to put it on the TV via an hdmi cable attached to your laptop.

Reki had ended up falling asleep first, head resting on Langa’s shoulder. The blue-haired boy didn’t miss a beat and mirrored his friend’s actions. Kaoru decided to move Miya to Hiromi’s bed, and Hiromi drifted off on the couch, resting his head on his palm, leaving you and Joe alone.

You wordlessly clicked through thousands of photos, checking the time every few seconds. You had been paid to have a whole portfolio ready by the next morning, and you had so many un-usable ones. The SD card was loaded with duplicates, blurry shots, unfocused shots, other skaters, motion blurred shots, photobombed shots, etc.

“Hey.” You heard a whisper from behind you. “How’s it looking?”

With a sigh, you pointed to the top right hand corner of your laptop, revealing harsh, white numbers that read 250/3250

“(N/N), you started this an hour ago. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be up all night.” Joe noted as his hands gently came up to rub your shoulders.

“It’s alright,” you replied. “I can’t sleep until these are finished.”

The green-haired male clicked his tongue in annoyance. His hands didn’t stop gently massaging your shoulders as he watched you agonizingly sift through your SD card.

After another half hour. The clock read 2:30, and you were bleary-eyed and delirious. Every photo looked blurry, and you were close to tears. Your hands grew shaky leading to trouble moving your mouse.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong? What’s on your mind?” Joe’s whispered question brought you over the edge. Tears leaked from the corners of your eyes as your shoulders shook. “Hey…”

“Joe, please just-“ you sniffled. “Please, I need a hug.”

The man wasted no time gently taking you in his lap and holding you close. He cradled your head and let it rest on his shoulder as he placed his other arm around your torso. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours? Why can’t we go to sleep yet?”

“You can go to sleep whenever…” you murmured. “I have to get these photos out by morning or else they’ll-“ a whimper escaped you. “It’ll tarnish my name. This is my living, this is how I’m still able to see everyone-“

“Hey… don’t you dare think that you’ll lose us. You are a damn talented photographer, and I think that freakish competitive skateboarders know how important a good night’s sleep is. They will understand, (N/N). Make a note of where you are, and let’s get you to bed.”

With a nod and a sniffle, you agreed. Joe opened a notepad on your computer, writing down the number you left off on. He carefully stood up with you in his arms, being careful to not step on the sleeping bodies on the floor. He went down the hall to Hiromi’s room and was met with a sleeping Kaoru and Miya.

With a gentle sigh, he returned to the main room and carefully laid down on the sofa. He covered the two of you with a blanket and put a decorative pillow behind his head.

It wasn’t comfortable whatsoever, but the important part was that you were finally asleep.

Smiling, he cradled your head once again and felt his eyes drooping shut.

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

#Java jive #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #sk8 imagines #sk8 x reader #sk8 the infinity imagines #sk8 the infinity x reader #sk8 the infinity x gender neutral reader #sk8 joe #joe sk8 #joe sk8 the infinity #kojiro nanjo #nanjo kojiro #kojiro nanjo x reader #joe x reader

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 9 months ago

Note

Not OFMD specific but might be of interest

(copied without permission given to reproduce)

Found in Private Eye 16-29th Feb

Warner Gloss:

Labour's business charm offensive continued last week, as Keir Starmer proudly posted that he had met with David Zaslav, CEO of Warner Bros Discovery, aiming to "work in partnership with the creative industries to drive growth".

Named by the New York Times as the man who "blew up Hollywood", Zaslav in fact seems to be doing everything he can to prevent growth in the industry. Having merged hi cable TV company, Discovery with entertainment conglomerate Warner Bros in 2022, Zaslav took on $56bn in debt and enacted cost cuts of £3bn.

To achieve this he set about binning TV shows and films that had already been completed in order to claim large tax write-offs - most notoriously superhero caper Batgirl - and removing shows from streaming services to avoid paying residuals fees.

In a move that might have had more appeal for St

armer, Zaslov also hired Chris Licht as CEO of CNN in 2022 to make the news service more appealing to conservative viewers - but then fired him within a year after ratings hit rock bottom. Under Zaslav's watch, the stock price of Warner Bros Discovery Inc has fallen by nearly 60% - probably not quite the growth Starmer would hope to discover!

END

Firstly thank you for your round-ups, much appreciated!

"make the new service more appealing to conservative viewers" Why am I not surprised.....

Secondly I am disturbed that the possible future leader of the UK or his advisors didn't do more investigating before agreeing to or asking for this meeting, very disappointing.

Thirdly "removing shows from streaming services to avoid paying residuals fees" Should we be concerned by this for series 1 and 2?

best wishes

Susannah

Hey omg I'm like 3 days behind on messages/replies/asks I'm sorry! This weekend was crazy! Hi Susannah!

Oh interesting! I've never read Private Eye, I'll go check them out now! Oh darn- looks like a paywall, thank you for pasting the text! (And no problem about the recaps! Thanks so much for reading them!)

To address your second point: I wish I knew more about Keir Starmer! I'm in the US so I only know tangentially about him. You would think someone would have vetted the situation a bit more though (although you know Zaslav has been a bit of a sneaky little fucker about everything until he was outed more recently). Sorry I don't have much to say on that point!

To address your third point:

Yeahhhhhh, my hope is that it won't affect OFMD too much because it's a bit more of it's own thing (and not a WB proprety like the Coyote movie). I think they could actually make money selling S1 and S2 as opposed to loss since there's such a demand for it, so personally I don't think it's going to be much of an issue, but I have no real authority or reason to believe that except common sense (which we all know hollywood doesn't always have).

@fuckyeahisawthat had a good take though, it's kind of anything goes unfortunately.

I have faith though... because like a lot of my tumblr colleagues have said, David Jenkins would have probably told us by now if in fact, there was literally no hope. He's been pretty good about putting out hints and letting us know where to focus our efforts, and as of yet he hasn't flat out said "Thanks anyway guys, but its not going to happen.

That in itself gives me hope for s1, s2 and s3.

Anyway, thanks for the write in Susannah! I'm really sorry again it took me so long to answer, and then I doubt I gave you anything of real substance @_@. I hope you're having a lovely day, and would love to chat more!

Take care, sending love!

Abby

#ofmd #our flag means death #s3 #ofmd s1 #ofmd s2 #david jenkins #asks #asks answered

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goodlucktai · 2 years ago

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Hi, not sure if you're still taking prompts, but I love your Human Splinter AU and was wondering how that would change his relationship with Raph. It seems like while he still has trauma, he doesn't have to deal with the dysphoria of suddenly having a rat body, and that make's parenting a little easier. Does that make things a little easier on Raph too?

There is a suspicious amount of giggling coming in the direction of the living room, when Yoshi is entirely positive all four turtles went down for their nap half an hour ago.

He peeks into the room and finds Raphael, laying on his front, kicking his tiny feet in the air, pouring over the comic book Hala’s daughter gave him. He doesn’t seem to notice Yoshi in the hall, as absorbed as he is.

His little turtles have keen senses. Yoshi thinks they’ll be incredible when they’re older. He also thinks he’ll treasure this—these early years, when everything is brand-new and precious, when his babies are clumsy and earnest and wide-eyed—when he can still creep up behind Raphael on silent feet and scoop him into his arms and surprise him into a squawk and then ringing peals of high, sweet laughter.

“What is this? What could this be?” Yoshi says, sing-song. “A little turtle running amok? Evading naptime? Breaching our contract?”

“Papa,” Raphael says, smiling toothily. He was the last of the four to begin speaking and sometimes he still has nonverbal days. Every time he says anything it’s like winning a goddamn prize.

Yoshi finds himself smiling back without making any conscious decision to.

“What are you up to, apple pie?” he asks. “Must be big, exciting things. Loop me in.”

Raphael waves his arms and declares gleefully, “Superheroes!”

Ah, yes. We’re still on that, Yoshi thinks, careful not to let Raphael see his expression of distaste as he stoops to pick up what turns out to be a Fantastic Four comic.

It’s one thing for his boys to find an old Jupiter Jim movie on cable TV and run around the house shooting imaginary blasters at imaginary aliens for four consecutive days afterwards. This hero thing is something else.

And he knows just who to blame.

Grandpa Sho found out about his great-grandchildren the way the rest of the world did—through the tabloids.

Apparently the pediatrician Yoshi had reached out to had decided the hefty NDA she’d signed was no more than a fancy piece of stationery, and the siren call of TMZ was too tempting to ignore.

Yoshi set his lawyers upon the asshole’s practice in the manner of a hunter releasing a pack of particularly bloodthirsty foxhounds, but the damage was done. The secret was out.

Naturally, the media ate it all up. Hala was an order of magnitude more pissed off about it than the uselessly shell-shocked Yoshi was, because as much as she might pretend otherwise, those turtles were basically her nephews. Her daughter had become their honorary big sister within about five minutes of meeting them in the first place. Hala was fully prepared to take this whole thing personally.

She told Yoshi not to read any articles, to stay off the Internet. It didn’t stop the barrage of e-mails and phone calls. It didn’t stop Yoshi from refusing to leave his house for an entire week because of the paparazzi parked outside.

And it didn’t stop Grandpa Sho from showing up on his doorstep. Apparently that bridge hadn’t been as thoroughly burned as Yoshi believed. The first thing he thought, when he saw his grandpa, was you look so old. It settled with a pang in the pit of his stomach.

The second thing—embarrassingly—was also what came out of his mouth. He hadn’t seen his grandpa in years, and the last time they spoke was in anger, but in some ways Yoshi was still his child.

“How do you fix a cold?” he blurted, right there on the doorstep. “He’s all stuffy and miserable and he won’t stop crying and he hates everything.”

Sho would have been well within his rights to be passive-aggressive, or petty, or even outright angry. Yoshi certainly would have been in his shoes. But Sho was better at putting duty before his own feelings, so he only nodded, and let himself inside.

“You sound exactly like your mother did when you were a baby,” he said, as if it wasn’t painful to say. “Not to worry. I know all the tricks.”

He did do a bit of a double-take when he saw the shape of Yoshi’s distraught toddler, but the surprise faded from his face quickly. He had always believed in all that mystic mumbo-jumbo that Yoshi had only recently learned firsthand was actually not mumbo-jumbo, after all. He took in the green skin and half-shells gracefully and ordered the inconsolable Michelangelo a lukewarm bubble-bath.

It became a whole thing, because the boys were as thick as thieves on a good day, and absolutely ready to fight god at the barest hint that they might be separated on a bad one. The bathroom ended up minorly flooded, but his kids were happy. They loved baths. They were swimming around each other in circles until even fussy Michelangelo was smiling. Sharing the moment with Sho—the two of them half-soaked and weary and bursting with affection for the rambunctious little monsters in their care—felt healing.

Grandpa Sho stayed for a few days. It was a relief to have him there, an extra set of hands. Someone Yoshi could trust, because despite everything else they had become to each other, they were still family.

The turtles were curious about him, this familiar stranger in their midst. They started absorbing Japanese within the first hour of his visit, even though Yoshi largely spoke in English. It was—nice. It reminded Yoshi of being a child himself, trailing after his jiji like a duckling.

And then one night, he let Sho tuck the boys into bed while he washed the dishes from dinner. He wandered into the nursery in the middle of a familiar story. A story that had followed Yoshi through life like a ghost, that echoed in almost all of his trauma-fueled nightmares.

The story of their clan and their duty.

Yoshi must have blacked out. He thinks he might have had an out-of-body experience. He remembers ripping the turtles out of Sho’s arms and backing away to the other side of the room and the pained way Sho’s face folded—hurt, guilt, decades-old grief.

“Don’t you dare,” Yoshi said, a whisper, because he was too furious and heartsick and terrified to speak any louder. He’d clutched his babies as tight as he could without hurting them, unreasonably afraid someone might reach out of thin air and snatch them away.

“Anata wa hitori janai,” his mother had said, the last thing she ever said. It was important but it felt like such a lie. Yoshi was alone. He’d always been alone. His sons were already better off than he was—there were four of them. He would make it his life’s mission to ensure they got to keep each other.

Then Grandpa Sho had surprised the hell out of him by saying, “I’m sorry.” He said it again in Japanese, full and formal, and Yoshi was shaken out of his stupor by sheer disbelief. “I only wanted—I only meant that they are Hamato. They are family. Whether or not you teach them what I have taught you, they will belong.”

He left not long after that, two weeks ago now. They haven’t spoken since.

And now Yoshi’s oldest son is full of half-formed ideas about heroics—concepts like ‘the greater good’ and ‘defeating evil’ that would go completely over his head, except that it’s the same sort of thing his favorite cartoon characters say.

“Hiijiji said our family is made of heroes,” Raphael says brightly. “So I’ll be one, too! And I’ll protect Leo and Donnie and Mikey when the bad guy comes.”

Yoshi can’t even speak for a moment. He has to wrestle with the lump in his throat for long enough that Raphael gets distracted and starts pawing at his hair.

His kids are so good. He can’t get over it. They were created to be super-soldiers, but all Yoshi sees are little goofballs with colorful personalities and giant hearts made of solid gold. He’s begun teaching them ninjutsu, in effort to curb some of their inexhaustible energy, and they’ve taken to it like ducks (or turtles) to water. Their brains are developing faster than those of human children their age—Donatello has the makings of an outright genius, and Leonardo is clever enough to talk circles around Yoshi in his sleep.

If they decided to become heroes, there isn’t a doubt in Yoshi’s mind that they could do it. And they’d be the best.

Raphael is all of six years old and the only things he should be preoccupied with are his siblings stealing his toys and that new Jupiter Jim DVD April promised to bring over this weekend. He shouldn’t be worried about the bad guy.

But now he’s got it into his head that he has this huge responsibility. He’s bigger and stronger than his siblings, so it falls on him to look after them. They clamber around on him like he’s their own personal jungle-gym, and he oversees bedtime rituals and boo-boos, and holds their hands when they reach out to him like it’s his job.

He doesn’t seem to mind that there is no big brother to do the same for him but he’s six. He wants someone to hold his hand, too.

Yoshi is keeping an eye on it. The last thing he wants is for Raphael to grow up too fast.

You can depend on me, he wants to say. It’s not all on your tiny little shoulders. That’s my job. It’s what I’m here for.

He doesn’t think Raphael is old enough to understand that in its entirety. So instead, when he’s sure he can speak without a wobble in his voice, Yoshi says, “There better be room for me in all these plans. I’m a hero, too, you know—you’ve seen me on TV!”

His son claps his hands together, brimming with delight. The turtles don’t really know what it means that their father is a famous actor, but they get so excited when they see Lou Jitsu on screen. They quote his movies a lot, it’s becoming a whole thing, and it’s so cute Yoshi might die.

“You’ll help fight the bad guy?” Raphael asks, like it’s the absolute best idea he’s ever heard.

“There’s not even gonna be any bad guy left for you, firebug,” Yoshi tells him. “I’m gonna beat him so quick you’ll barely see it. He’s just gonna be a big blur and you’ll wonder what the heck that was and then it’ll be over. And then we’ll go out for ice cream and forget all about it.”

He says it playfully and it makes Raphael giggle, but inwardly it takes the form of a prayer.

If there has to be a war, let it be Yoshi’s. Let his children be children for as long as they can.

“And hiijiji can come, too!” Raphael adds.

Yoshi is learning how to pick his battles. Maybe he doesn’t want to fight this battle anyway. Maybe he can begin to peel his fingers open from the fists he curled them into when he was a child. Maybe he can start to let it go.

With Raphael gazing up at him like this, like Yoshi really is a superhero, Yoshi thinks he can do just about anything.

“Okay,” he says. It doesn’t even cost him to say it. “Jiji can come, too.”

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #hamato yoshi #lou jitsu #hamato raphael #human splinter au #my writing #prompt #anonymous #tmnt fic #pushing my great grandpa sho agenda

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hoffmansnightmare · 1 year ago

Text

Keep Away From The Edge

Chapter 1

Pairing: Mark Hoffman X Emmy Hodges

Canon typical violence, mentions of drinking, hint at alcoholism, hint of death, lacerations

Emmy Hodges had heard of the Jigsaw killer of course, everyone had by now, but like most people she thought that sort of thing happened to other people, not her. That was until she woke up in a game of her own. After barely making it out alive and in one piece, all she wants to do is recover and put it behind her. But she seems to have caught the eye of a certain detective.

(You can also read it here! Keep Away From The Edge)

The first thing Emmy registered when she came to was pain, a great pounding headache that felt like her head was about to split in half. Next was a horrid, sharp pain all over her front, arms, and legs. When she tried to get away from it by sitting up, the pain only dug deeper into her palms and knees. Then she found that something above her kept her from straightening up. It felt like a metal grate against her back. Where was she? Where had she even been before this place? Emmy couldn't remember anything. She had to force her eyes open, her lids heavy with physical weight.

Glass, there was glass everywhere. That's what was digging into her palms and knees. Smashed bottles covered the floor. So many that now matter where she landed her hands or knees there was a sharp edge biting into her skin. Emmy hissed in when she shifted, a new shard cutting into her calf. There were cuts all over her front from her laying down. Emmy lifted her hands, plucking the glass from her palms. There was something around her neck that felt suspiciously like a collar. When she touched it her fingers were met with cool metal, a heavy lock hung from the middle of the collar. Above her there was some sort of track. She felt around the back of her neck and found that there was a cable that connected to the track from her collar.

Blinking, trying to get her eyes to really focus, Emmy looked up and around, there wasn't much to see. The room around her was dark. There was only enough light to see that she was in some sort of cage-like tunnel. She could see that it looked like an entire labyrinth of the cage, and she was at the center of it. Suddenly Emmy's heart began to pound as the reality of her situation began to sink in fully. She knew what this was. This was the work of the Jigsaw killer. She tried to keep her breathing even. Panicking would do her no good. She had to figure out the rules of this game. If she could do that she could win, she'd get to live.

She'd heard plenty about this on the news. This guy trapped his victims in horrible ways, getting them to maim themselves or kill others in order to live. Emmy at least appeared to be on her own, so she didn't have to worry about fighting off another human. She looked around. There was always a tape recorder or a TV. The cops always found one or the other. There was nothing around her, so Emmy supposed her only way was forward. She had to get moving.

Heart still pounding, she balled her hands into fists and put her knuckles down on the shards of glass as carefully as possible, whimpering as razor sharp slivers sliced her skin and impeded themselves into her knuckles. This would at least keep her wrist from getting the worst of it. Forward she went, slowly, placing her knuckles down as carefully as she could. There was no avoiding the glass, but she could at least keep away from the sharpest ones. The cable moved along the track above her. She'd worried that it would make moving even harder, but it slid along with her easily.

A few feet in front of her was an immediate hook to the right, then it was straight for several feet. Dead ahead, was a fork. She could either go left or right, and hanging from the top grate was a tape recorder. Emmy pulled it down with shaking hands. She wanted to throw up, somehow seeing the tape recorder made all of this real, not just a nightmare that she would wake up from.

It was hard to push play with how hard her fingers were shaking, but she managed it, and the dreaded voice greeted her.

"Hello Emmory."

Emmy winced at the sound of her full name, like a child getting scolded.

"You've spent all of your adult life drinking your nights away, looking at the world through the bottom of a bottle. Days slip past you in a drunken haze. Do you drink to not feel? Or drink to feel something?"

Emmy swallowed hard, her throat beginning to close. How could he know how much he drank? How had he picked her out of the thousands of people in this city who drank too much?

"Well now you will face every single bottle you drowned yourself in. You'll have 2 hours to navigate this maze and find the exit. If you do not make it out in time the door will close, sealing you in forever."

Emmy hadn't noticed a clock, or anyway to keep time. She must not have activated that part yet.

"Also, you must have noticed the cable connected to the back of your collar. Have you ever heard of keelhauling? When that two hours is up the cable will activate and drag you back to the center of the maze."

Her entire body was shaking as she imagined getting dragged along the shards of glass, ripped from however far she'd managed to make it.

"Keep your head on your shoulders. You'll be glad you have a clear mind for this. Live or die. Make your choice."

The cowardly part of Emmy's brain told her to back up, return to the middle of the maze, and curl up to accept her face. But slowly starving and dying of dehydration would be a more horrible fate than being essentially keelhauled. She had heard about it. Sailors used to be tortured by being dragged along the barnacle encrusted keels of ships. This would either kill them, or leave them with ragged scars all over their body. But if she bled out it would go by much quicker.

Emmy slipped the tape recorder into her back pocket. For some reason leaving it behind didn't seem like an option. She put her knuckles back down, acquiring some fresh cuts, and began to move forward again. She picked left. As soon as she began to move in that direction her cable caught something in its track. It only took a slight tug to get it moving again, but a loud alarm sounded, and a giant digital clock on the wall Emmy could barely make out appeared. it started counting down from two hours, and she wasted a precious few seconds just staring at it in awe. Time to move!

Emmy stuck with her decision to go left, knowing that any hesitation would mean her death. Every new slice in her skin stung terribly, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. She kept up on her knuckles, keeping her wrists away from the worst of it. After two more lefts she hit a dead end. She turned around, back to the original fork, and went down the right turn, not even bothering to look at the clock. It didn't matter. Either she made it out or she didn't. Fretting over the time wasn't going to help her.

A couple of times a particularly sharp piece would jam itself into the tender part of her knees making her buckle and fall fully into the glass, causing her forearms and biceps to be lacerated quite badly. Blood ran hot down her arms. The tops of her feet were also quite bad, but she refused to stop. She couldn't.

She's moving at a good clip. Mark Hoffman thought. He was monitoring her game from an office in another part of the warehouse that Emmory was being kept in. As soon as she'd gotten her instructions she blazed through the maze of glass. It was perhaps more lenient of a trap than John would have designed, but John himself was gone, getting some experimental treatment in Mexico. He'd left Mark in charge of this test with his usual envelope of instructions. Who to test and for what. He'd let Mark design the test and trap itself, probably as a way to see how Mark would handle it.

Amanda hadn't been impressed, but Mark thought she'd hate anything he came up with anyway. He’d take the criticism from John if he had any, but when it came to Amanda he usually tuned her out.

Mark glanced at the clock. Emmory’s first hour was almost up, but she was making pretty good progress. It looked like she was about halfway out of the thing. Every dead end she turned right around and headed down the opposite direction. After every stumble she was right back up, pulling out the offending shard of glass and continuing forward. Maybe he had taken it easy on her, but he also thought she was a fighter.

She reminded Mark a lot of himself. They had had a lot of the same problems, both drunks who were far too familiar with the bartenders at their usual haunts. Mark had been trying to forget the memory of finding his sister dead with her throat slit ear to ear. Emmory seemed to drink just to get through her days. Was it monotony? Or was it some trauma John hadn’t been able to dig up?

Emmory fell again, this time staying down for several seconds. Mark leaned forward in his chair, his hands clasped tightly between his knees. Would this be it? The camera feed was grainy, really only good for monitoring her movement, but it did look like her limbs were darkening with blood. She must be growing light headed by now. Another glance at the time said she started in on the second hour.

“You’re close.” He said to no one but himself. “Get up.”

That had been a bad fall. Emmy groaned, her arms shaking as she got back up on them. Fresh blood rolled down her upper arms and thighs. She pulled the shard of glass that had caused her knees to buckle out of her skin with a wince. She couldn’t tell how close or far away from the exit she was, but she could tell she was near the outside of the maze. That had to mean she wasn’t far from getting out of here. It felt like she'd been moving for a while, though she still couldn't bring herself to check her time. She just kept winding her way through.

Hoffman was right. She was beginning to feel light headed, growing wobbly and slowing down. The tops of her feet felt as if they had been torn to shreds. Another right turn and she was down a long straight away. Where was the next turn? Had she missed it? Her thoughts were becoming thick, like a quagmire. She found that she couldn't remember what her last turn had been. Should she take another right? Except there were no more turns, just this straight shoot. Wait…was this it? The end?

Literal light at the end of the tunnel, and hanging at the mouth of the exit was the key to her collar. She picked up her pace, still ignoring the time. That didn't matter, she had to keep calm. She reached the key and yanked it down, her hands shaking from weakness this time instead of fear. Her fingers were slick with blood, causing her to drop that key. She swallowed, finding it quickly and plucking it out of the mess of glass. Pinching it fiercely she jammed it into the padlock at her neck and unlocked the collar. It made a clang as it snapped back to the track. She was out! Out of the mouth of the tunnel she could see a larger door that stood open. That was where the light was spilling out of.

Emmy tried to rise from the mouth of the cage, but having been crouched for so long, her thighs didn't want to cooperate, buckling. It was now that she glanced at the clock. Twenty seconds left. The wind rushed out of her chest. She wasn't far from the opening, but it was far enough if she didn't move. Ignoring the pain, ignoring how her body screamed, how the glass dug deeper into her legs, she sprinted for the exit. She crossed the threshold. She'd made it! Then she promptly collapsed back to the floor, unable to hold herself up with the weight of such immense relief.

Fifteen seconds to spare. She'd made it with fifteen seconds left on the clock. He had started to doubt her. She had slowed down so much, it looked like she was going to collapse right before reaching her freedom. But she'd done it. With that amazing will power to live that John was always harping on about.

Mark stood, picking up the prepared hypo needle and pig mask as he did so. He couldn't afford for her to see him, even though he was pretty sure she was passed out. Better to not take any chances. It was a short walk to where she had collapsed. The door had slammed closed behind her once the clock hit zero. She was in quite the pool of blood from her wounds. Mark placed a gloved hand on her head.

"Congratulations." He said, "you made it, and you will live."

Emmory didn't move at his words. It looked like she was out cold, just as he had thought. He slipped the needle into the pocket of his robe for now. No need to dose her with such a low blood supply. Carefully he lifted her into his arms. This elicited a groan from her, but nothing else.

His phone was ringing on the desk when he returned. Mark cursed, laying Emmory down on the bed they kept there. He picked up the phone and flipped it open, discarding the pig mask as he did so. "Hello?"

"Detective." It was John, and his voice sounds strained. "I need your help locating some people."

"What happened?" Mark found a piece of scrap paper and a pen, ready to write down names.

"It's a long story." John sounded so tired. Broken even. "I'll explain more later. For now I just need your help."

"Give me names."

John did. The main one being a Cecilia Pederson. The others were apparently associates of hers.

"Just get me any information you can find on these people."

"Do you want me to fly out there?" Mark asked, jotting down the names quickly. He glanced at Emmory, still passed out on the bed. She wasn't in danger of bleeding out, but he needed to get her wounds treated.

"No, Amanda is coming. There's one man I want you to find state side. His name is Henry Kessler. He was a fellow cancer patient in my group. He's the one who told me about this treatment."

She heard a man's voice. It sounded far away, but she could hear it. It was deep, almost resonant. Was he talking on the phone? Emmy tried to open her eyes, but they were so heavy. She got so far as to see a blurry shape hunched over a desk covered in monitors, then her eyes slid shut again. She was out again. Far away. Out at sea.

Mark hung up the phone, looking over the names he had written down. He didn't know how much he'd be able to find on people that operated out of Mexico, but he'd find everything he could. He'd get started later. For now he needed to take care of Emmory. He turned to see her still passed out. Taking the first aid kit off the wall he knelt beside her. It looked as if the worst of her wounds weren't bleeding as much, the blood growing thick and slow. Her shallower cuts had stopped entirely. Mark pulled his glove off and placed two fingers on her neck. She had a steady pulse that maybe could have been stronger.

To be safe Mark pulled the needle back out. He gave her only a portion of it, not wanting to give her too much and complicate things. He just couldn't risk her waking up. He had to clean the wounds and disinfect them. The pain could wake her up if she were just passed out. Snapping on some medical gloves he got started

The dose he had given her had been enough. Her body automatically flinched when, after he had gotten done cleaning up the worst of her wounds (making sure to swipe his finger prints off of her neck, just in case), he'd sprayed the disinfectant into the cuts. There were no other reactions otherwise. It took him ages to carefully pick out the shards of glass between her knuckles and down her legs with a set of tweezers. She'd managed to pull the worst of them out when they first stuck her, but many tiny slivers remained. He removed all of the ones he could find then set about stitching up the worst of the cuts. Once he was done he looked her over. She'd be fine…well at least physically. Mentally he wasn't as sure.

Satisfied he took off the rubber gloves to replace them with his leather ones. He lifted her back into his arms. He had to ensure her safe retrieval. He'd fixed her up sure, but she'd need more in depth medical attention. He couldn't risk being seen, however, so he brought her to a payphone a few blocks away.

Carefully he set her on the ground inside of the cramped glass box, then he dialed 911. When the dispatcher answered the phone Mark held up a tape recorder to the receiver. He'd pre recorded himself saying the cross streets, and that medical was needed at this particular payphone. He'd then distorted it, just like John's typical Jigsaw voice, so that his own voice was not heard or recorded. Then he hung up the payphone and retreated to a safe hiding spot to watch over Emmory until she was picked up by the ambulance. As he was stepping out he couldn't help but get one more good look at her. She was breathing steadily now. Some blood had seeped through her bandages, otherwise she looked as well as any surviving Jigsaw victim could hope for.

Mark walked to the other side of the street, sinking into a tight alleyway between two buildings with a clear view of the payphone. He was fully prepared to run out there if anyone chose to disturb her before the ambulance got there. Thankfully this area was not frequented by anyone at them time of night, and the ambulance didn't take long. Mark watched them jump out and collect Emmory.

After the ambulance drove off Mark emerged from his hiding spot. Back in his car he let out a long sigh. The tension in his body left him as soon as he settled into his seat. A call would come in for him to go to the hospital to interview Emmory, but he figured he had a few hours to get some rest. They wouldn't bother him until she woke up and was lucid. So he made his way home to catch as many hours of sleep that he could.

So bright. Emmory groaned and tried to lift her arm to shield her eyes. There was an uncomfortable tug, halting her from the action. With only one eye in a squint she tried to see what was wrong with her arm. She saw that she was attached to an IV bag. Lifting her other arm she found it unencumbered and rubbed her eyes before trying to blink them open. Above her were fluorescent lights, the source of the brightness burning her eyes. A hospital? She was in a hospital?

"H-hello?" She felt a little stupid calling out, but the relief she felt when she heard the hurried footsteps come toward here was worth it.

"Oh! You're awake." The nurse came to her side immediately, pressing a hand to her forehead before she pulled out a flashlight. She checked Emmy's dilation quickly, apologizing when Emmy flinched away from the light. Her eyes had just started to adjust.

"Where am I?" Obviously a hospital, but which one? How far away from home was she? Emmy tried to sit up but the nurse pushed her back down.

"Careful, you have quite a few stitches. You're at The Angel of Mercy Hospital." She patted Emmy's hand. "You had been through something that is for sure, but someone had already started to treat you. Do you remember what happened to you?"

At first Emmy didn't. The previous night is stuck in a dense haze, like trying to remember a dream hours after waking up. Then images came to her in flashes, the shattered glass, the cage maze, the horrid pig visage.

Emmy's heart rate monitor started to beep wildly and her breath came in short pants. The nurse took her hand and gave it a squeeze of reassurance. "Jigsaw." She panted out. "I was in a Jigsaw trap."

The police were called. As soon as Emmy said the words the nurse's eyes went wide and she ran out of the room. To tell someone to call them, then she was back to comfort Emmy until she calmed down. There was only what felt like a few more minutes of peace before a couple of beat cops arrived to ask her questions. Most of which she couldn't really answer.

"Where were you when you were picked up?"

"I-I'm not really sure. Walking home from the bar I think? I only lived a couple of blocks away…"

"What is the last thing you remember?"

"Just that, walking home, then a horrible pig's face, then blackness."

"You didn't see who did this to you at any point?"

"No just the pig mask."

"Are you familiar with the area you were found in?"

"No, I don't even remember getting there. I made it out of the maze and then collapsed. Nothing but blackness again."

"No pig mask this time?"

"Just nothingness. I vaguely remember being lifted, but I was so out of it by that point."

"So they were strong enough to lift you?"

"Yeah I guess…"

The officer not asking the questions was writing furiously the whole time. At this point Emmy was desperate for them to just go away so that she could get some sleep. How could she be so tired when she'd been out for who knew how long? She very much just wanted to start trying to put this horrible event behind her. She knew it would be impossible, that this had changed her forever, but continuing to live in this horrible reality where she was a Jigsaw victim was agony.

The call finally came in. There was a Jigsaw survivor at the hospital. Hoffman said he'd be right there. And he was, throwing on a coat he was out the door and at the hospital in thirty minutes tops. Two beat cops had beaten him there, already questioning Emmory. He could tell she wasn't saying much.

"Emmory, isn't it?" Mark stood at her bedside, looking down at her lying there. Her dark red hair looked stark against the white of her pillow. It looked like her head was lying in a pool of blood, but her eyes still had a spark in them. Had that been there before the trap? He hadn't noticed. He'd grabbed her as she was stumbling home from her favorite bar. It had been far too easy for him to wrap his arms around her and jab the needle into her neck. By then her eyes had been glazed over. Out like a light.

"Yes." The confirmation brought him back to the present. Mark reached for the note pad one of the officers had been writing on, looking over the answers they'd already gathered. As he had thought there was nothing of substance. He handed the notepad back to the officer.

"I apologize for the interrogation. I know you need your rest." He put on his best smile. "But we need whatever information you can give us while it's still fresh." She didn't look terribly impressed. Emmory just nodded at him. "And you're one of the very lucky few to have survived."

Suddenly her eyes were searching his face, a frown pulling at her lips. Mark didn't know what to make of what he saw on her face.

"I don't feel lucky." She said, turning away from him to look down at her bandaged hands. Mark remembered how long it took to pull the slivers of glass out of her knuckles. He hadn't needed to do that. He could have let the hospital take care of that. But he'd done it. Held her hand in one of his while he carefully plucked out the shards with a pair of tweezers.

"Do you feel grateful?" He asked. "To be alive." The question was out of his mouth before he realized. Mark bit the inside of his lip. That had been too far. John's rhetoric was creeping further and further into him.

Emmory's brows furrowed up in the middle, and maybe her lower lip trembled. Hoffman couldn't be sure. "I guess…I didn't want to die. I never did."

Mark thought that would suffice. It wasn't the same groveling gratefulness Amanda had had for John at first, but Emmory was still freshly traumatized. It would probably sink in as she came to realize how close she'd actually come to dying.

Or maybe she wouldn't. But she'd survived Mark's test, and all she'd really been guilty of was drinking too much too often. Something Mark had struggled with himself. And sometimes he still partook, when the memories of seeing his sister's throat slashed were too much. He wondered, again, what it was that drove Emmory to drink.

"You can't remember anything else?"

"No, nothing. I already told them everything I know."

Mark nodded. This was good. Emmory was already turning away from him, her eyes half open. He dismissed the original two officers, then pulled out his business card which he set on her bedside table. "If you think of anything else, please don't hesitate to call."

Emmory nodded, looking absent, looking tired. He left her then, feeling somewhat relieved. This was his first one without John's supervision, and he wanted to prove to the old man he could handle it.

Now he'd get started finding those people in Mexico John had asked him to help locate, and Henry Kessler. He still didn't know what these people had done, but it had to be bad if John was calling him out of the blue. He'd get started in this, then check back in with Emmory after she's had time to regain her strength.

Emmy's eyes had grown heavier and heavier. It was so hard to keep talking. She was thankful the detective hadn't asked her any more questions. Not yet anyway. All she wanted to do was sleep, it almost hurt to try and keep pushing the words out.

But there had been something, and itching at the back of Emmy's mind, when he asked if she was grateful to be alive. What a strange question for a detective to ask. Maybe it was just because that was Jigsaw's signature. His survivors were meant to be grateful, and the police were taking notes on if that were true or not. It was still weird.

There was also something else. As her eyes fell closed and she watched Detective Hoffman walk out of her hospital room. Was it the shape of his shoulders? She was fading too fast to focus on the thought. Soon sleep had fully taken her and it was gone.

@grxmreaperx

#mark hoffman #saw 2004 #sawposting #saw franchise #saw movies #saw x #mark hoffman x oc #Mark Hoffman x Emmy Hodges #Keep Away From The Edge

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the-ars99-mc-empire · 6 months ago

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"In 1999, well-known music producer, ex-assassin and owner of the "Mox Records" music distribution company "Moxxie" was the victim of a discrediting campign presumed to be organised by Voxtech, who at the time rivaled with Mox Records for a 40% share in all album sales in hell. The way the mysterious party did this is that using technology borrowed from the "MVMK project" they created a hypnotic video which ordered those who viewed it to fuck (or in this case rape) the CEO, a very strange case of revenge it was. The mysterious party then aired said video on the "HSAT" cable tv network at midnight lasting an hour. Presumably around 10 people ended up watching this strange broadcast with two of them actually showing up at the ceo's house at 3 am allegedly trying to have sex with him. At the next day an investigation was launched with moxxie, vox, and the two demons ██████ and ████ ███ being questioned. The investigation made it clear that moxxie wasn't behind the broadcast, but it wasn't found out who ended up making and allowed to air said broadcast. The two demons was let go with a slap on the wrist due to a technicality in the justice system, and although moxxie did tried to sue the head of voxtech for potential defemation, but the case was settled privately outside of court."

It feels so good to be back, hopefully i can be even more productive soon ;)

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beebobeebo · 1 month ago

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Title: Shit, Kid.

Fandom: Justified

Characters: Raylan Givens, wee Willa Givens , & Tim Gutterson

Relationship: Tim Gutterson x Raylan Givens (Givenson)

Summary: The world is so dire I wrote kid fic.

This is either my brain rebelling against writing blowjobs or having rewatched The Mandalorian.

Also, the swear jar bit is stolen from my stepdad. He still owes me thirty-four goddamn dollars.

Notes: Hippos causes an estimated 500 deaths annually. It'll come up.

"Seriously?" Tim is looking at the little blonde muppet version of Raylan sitting at the kitchen table.

"You gonna tell Dan that I can't find a sitter when you're right here?" Raylan is aggressively tugging on his jacket. "Winona and Richard are sick." Raylan is a whirl of hand motions. "Just gotta turn on cartoons and order dinner. I'll be back before either of you miss me."

Raylan grabs his hat and presses a kiss to his daughter's hair. "Hey, kiddo, Tim's gonna watch you for a little bit."

"Why Tim?" Willa asks with an impressive level of peevishness, which is what you have to call it when a kid is being a dick. She's all of six, but she'd out-Givens Arlo on one of her bad days. Shit, she rests at Raylan-levels while idly playing with her Legos.

"I'm here because, legally, you can't be left alone," Tim answers honestly as he sits down on Raylan's couch.

"Thanks, Tim. Makin' me feel good about this," Raylan says dryly. "Be good, kiddo. Tim's just here to keep the house from burnin' down and feed you dinner."

Raylan plants another kiss on the top of Willa's head. "Be good."

"You already said that," Tim and Willa say in unison. Raylan pinches the bridge of his nose and squints hard at one then the other.

"Bye, Daddy," Willa says without looking up from where she's coloring aggressively.

"Bring back beer," Tim says as he leans forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

"And ice cream," Willa says still looking at her drawing.

Raylan shakes his head as he walks out the door shouting, "Love you!"

Willa and Tim grumble vague responses at the same time. The pair look at each other and stare for a long moment. Tim's afraid this is a wolf situation. If he breaks first, she'll establish dominance. She holds up her drawing between them. Tim is choosing to generously interpret it as a snake.

"You gonna tell me what that is?"

Willa snorts. "It's you, Tim."

"I'm a snake. I know you're only in the first grade, but that's a weak metaphor, Willa-Wisp"

"No. The snake ate you," Willa explains. "It's digesting you. Their whole body is full of their digestive system."

"Charming," Tim leans back in the couch cushions and clicks on the TV. "Tell me when you get hungry."

Tim idly clicks through the channels trying to ignore the unnerving shuffling sound from behind him. When something grabs his ankle he yells, "Fuck!"

"You owe me a quarter for my swear jar," Willa says from beneath the couch.

"You're running a racket. That stops bein' cute and starts bein' a crime at a certain point." He lifts his ass far enough off the couch to pull out his wallet. "Put it on my damn tab," he says as he holds a ten-dollar bill down by his feet. It's quickly snatched away.

Willa appears at his elbow with the unnerving speed of a child. This is why you don't fuck with horror movie kids. You punt the possessed bastards and run.

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

"Daddy likes you. Sometimes he talks about you when you're not here," she says with a flippant hand wave that's Raylan made over.

"He does the same thing with you. He's very proud of you. You know that, right?" Tim asks. He wouldn't call Raylan perfect, but he was a damn sight better than either of them had known. Raylan loved the shit out of this tiny funhouse mirror of himself.

"He's my daddy," she says matter-of-factly. "Everyone's daddy is proud of them."

"Yeah, sure," Tim says, cycling through channels. Who still has cable?

"Daddy's proud of you," Willa says as she invites herself into Tim's personal space.

Do not engage, Gutterson.

"Yeah?"

Damn it.

"He says you make bad things go away before they even get close," Willa explains as she situates herself in Tim's lap. "Like real far away."

Oh for fuck's sake Raylan.

"I guess I do," Tim admits. "I had to go to special school for it."

"Do you love Daddy?" Willa asks staring directly into his soul. God. Maybe she was possessed.

"Yeah. I even like him most of the time," Tim admits dragging his hand down his face. "Guessin' you still do, too?"

Willa is giving him the look. He knows that look. It's usually angled down at him, though. Goddamn, did this kid only get Winona's hair?

"Of course you do, he's your daddy." Tim smooths her hair. God, who the fuck was he right now?

"Richard loves me, too," She says as her face becomes eyebrows and her little jaw twitches.

"Listen, Wisp, you're only six, but you're comin' off real desperate here. You're tryin' to force me to say somethin'." Tim sighs as he leans back in the cushions and adjusts the kid so they're both comfortable. "Never force anyone to say that. Alright?"

She eyes him. He stares right back. Wolf rules. She blinks.

"Okay. But you are my friend," she says with a nod. "Can we have mac n' cheese for dinner?"

"Hell yeah, we can," he says as he snatches the remote back up. "We can also watch something with robots. No animal shows. You're learnin' some messed up shit from those."

"Like how hippos kill a lot of people?"

"Damn it, Willa. Would you just watch Voltron?"

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

Raylan comes home to a house that smells like neon powdered cheese, has a trail of purple glitter in the carpet, and some weird shit with lion robots playing on the TV.

"Tim?"

"Shut up, man," Tim's voice hisses from the hallway Raylan tosses his hat and jacket on the couch as he heads toward the voice.

"Guessin' she's asleep?" Raylan passes Tim to look into Willa's room. He smiles softly and looks back at Tim. "See. You managed."

"Had to get all the way to Rivendell in The Hobbit before she nodded off," Tim says with a small smile.

Raylan heads down the hallway to his room. Tim follows after a final peek to make sure Willa's not drooling on the book tucked into bed with her.

"Hey." Tim grabs Raylan from behind by the hips and pulls him against his chest. "You didn't bring back beer or ice cream."

Raylan lets his head fall back against Tim's.

"You had fun," he accuses with a smile.

"Fuck you," Tim says into Raylan's hair.

"You didn't hear about the new swear jar?" Raylan turns to face Tim.

"Don't worry. I've got a three-dollar credit."

#justified #justified fx #raylan givens #tim gutterson #willa givens #beefic #kid fic

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tremendousconnoisseurgardener · 8 months ago

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Ruthless! Player

A Poppy Playtime AU.

Author’s Note: Hello everyone. Finally finished this new chapter. Sorry if it took a long time, hope you guys like it.

Warnings!

This fics will have sensitive topics:

PTSD

Death

Blood

Gore

Swears

Consumption of alcohol and smoking

If you do not like any of these topics, you are free to leave. Have a nice day/night.

Chapter 1: A Tight Squeeze.

Player closed the door behind him, there they saw in front of them a mural with a blue monster and red lips smiling, as well a yellow speech bubble written *welcome!* Painted on it. Inside, the place was pretty dusty, some boxes and toys thrown on the ground. They saw a light switch and turned on, the lamps flickering back to life.

“Huh, not far from home.” Player said sarcastically. They inspected the place and passed by a ticket gate, who did not need a ticket, but they were stopped by a big metal gate, on top there was a panel with a blue hand painted on it, glowing as well

“There aren’t any locks… how am I going to open this?” Player asked, they went back to the lobby and noticed a closed glass door down a corredor beside them. Taking a closer look, Player noticed a security system connected to the door, with colored buttons on it “maybe it’s a code?”

They tried typing the buttons at different orders, but after 4 tries, they gave up.

“Fuck this.” Using the back of the gun, they smashed the glass door, shattering into pieces “this place is already abandoned Anyway.” They got inside another room and saw a vhs tape on a table, aswell a cassette player connected to a tv. Player picked up the video tape and started the video

The video showed instructions on how to use a special equipment called *Grab-Pack*, a backpack that has two cannons with hands attached to them on both sides of it. They serve to move objects and hold on handles, and also serve to conduct electricity, just push the triggers of the cannons and it will shoot the hands towards the target and grab on it. Just, don’t shoot on any staff, it may cause injury. After the video ends, a small door opens up, revealing a conveyor belt bringing the Grab-Pack. Player grabbed the equipment and saw that there was only one hand for now, a blue hand.

“Maybe this is the key?” They said, placing the Grab-Pack behind their back and tightened up the straps, although the rifle stayed in an uncomfortable position it could work out “feels heavier than a normal backpack-.” Going back to the gate, Player pointed the cannon at the panel and shot the blue hand, gluing at the metal plate as a blue bar started to grow. After the bar was full, the gate started to open, and they walked through to the other side of the gate.

“Never had seen this type of ge-.” They stopped mid sentence when they saw the hulking figure of a… blue… animal…? Staring at them in the distance “the hell is that?” They got closer to the thing, taking a good look at it “that's a statue.” Looking around the area, they saw some box of toys laying on the ground, there they found the same blue creature inside of them, but small, they were called “Huggy Wuggy”

“So, this was supposed to be a toy? I prefer a teddy bear rather than that.” Player said, tossing the box away. After sometime, they noticed a key hanging on one of the hands of the Huggy Wuggy *statue*, using the Grab-Pack, they retrieved the key “this equipment ain’t that bad. But, where to use this key?”

They looked around the place, trying to open up some doors using the key, two of them were also giant metal gates who needed the Grab-Pack’s hand to open up, although one of them wasn’t powered up and the other needed a red hand, something that they did not have yet. They noticed that a black electric cable was connected to the gate without power. With only one choice left, Player inserted the key on the door, written “Power” above them; a click sound was made and the door opened up.

Inside there were various poles made out of metal and an electric box, Player had no problem using the Grab-Pack to conduct the electricity and powering up the place again.

“Now that the power is back, maybe I can open that metal gate with the blue hand.”

Player exited the room, only to discover that the, supposedly, Huggy Wuggy statue is now missing from its place. They were shocked, looking around the area to try finding the tall monster.

“… maybe I should stop drinking…” With more caution of their surroundings, Player opened the gate, revealing a rather long and very yellow corridor ahead, with another closed metal gate at the end and a sign on top written *Make a Friend*. They walked down the hallway, but suddenly something moved and went inside a room at the end of the corridor, it looked like a furry arm sliding across the walls “oh, how I love this place.”

They reluctantly pushed the door open and entered the same room where the monster might be, since it was the only door that was unlocked. Another hallway lay ahead, but now dark and full of pipes, Player grabbed their flashlight and continued on their path, they had to squeeze between some of those metal pipes, even getting a gush of vapor on their face, prompting them to jump back. Crossing the corridor, they enter a warehouse.

Inside there were piles of boxes everywhere, some shelves toppled over, toy parts scattered around. In front of them, they saw a control panel for a crane that was out of power as well as the red hand for the Grab-Pack, but it was out of reach. The panel had 4 plugs on it, Player needed to find power cores to turn on the crane. After some time scavenging around, they were able to find all the necessary batteries and plugged them on the panel.

Now with the power back, Player pushed a button and the crane moved automatically towards the red hand, grabbing it and dropping on a conveyor belt that below, it was used to transfer toy parts to an unknown place. They went down the catwalk and acquired the new hand for the Grab-Pack

“Nice, with this I can open that other gate now.”

Going back to the yellow corridor, the once opened gate is now closed and locked. The reason is unknown.

“See… That's what I don’t like. I know shit is going to happen, but I don’t know when. I hate this place.” Player grumbled with a sigh, while retrieving from his jacket pocket a cigarette to smoke.

Going back to the warehouse, they noticed that there was a red and blue panel on the other side of the warehouse. Using the Grab-Pack, Player opened a hatch that goes deeper inside the conveyor belt; after finishing the cigarette, they went inside and there they had to, yet again, fix the power.

“From Squad Leader, to a delivery guy and now an electrician. My life is a mess.” They said, while finally turning on the conveyor belt. The mechanism started to move suddenly, Player did not expect that and lost balance as they got dragged to god knows where. Toy parts fell on top of them and red lights started to flash, at the end of the conveyor belt they were thrown inside a strange pod full of other toy parts. “Damn, that was a ride.” They said, The window of the pod was broken, so they were able to crawl out of it.

Player was now on the *Make a Friend* área. There they saw two other identical pods, besides the one who they came through, and a giant machinery in front of them, the machines looked strange, shaped in curvy and uneven forms. “I guess it’s for aesthetics?” They looked at the strange structures. They also noticed two closed gates, one of them led to the yellow hallway, the other needed a toy to open it up. Although confused at first, Player understood what to do, they had to make a toy using the strange looking machinery. The only problem was that there was no power.

Going up a staircase at the corner of the area, they got themselves on a catwalk, where they found an electric box and more metal poles to conduct the electricity; they had to, AGAIN, fix the electric problem. It was a bit complicated to connect all the poles this time, but Player got the job done.

“Finally, Now I can do that toy.” They said, going down the staircase, they noticed the machinery had come back to life, literally. Each structure had a pair of glowing white eyes, with a black pupil in the middle, looking at Player “this company has some weird design choices.”

Pressing a button on a panel in the middle of the room and pulling some levers connected to the pods, Player was able to manufacture a Cat-Bee, a half-cat and half-bee character; now with a toy in hand, they placed it on a scanner near the closed gate. After the scanning was completed, the gate opened up for the Player.

“Alright… let’s get out of this place.” Player walked down the corridor, they were a bit disappointed about themselves for not being able to find any clues, at least they tried.

But, near the end of the hallway, Huggy Wuggy appeared right in front of Player, abandoning the dark and finally revealing himself. The giant blue monster looms over the small human, showing his razor sharp teeth at Player with a prettifying smile, his hunched over form only increasing the fear factor and his eyes looking dilated just like from a sea lion, ready to hunt their prey. Player fell back but quickly got up, rapidly backing away to the *Make a Friend* area, as Huggy Wuggy walked towards them, each step he took was heavy, the ground would even shake. Player dropped the cannons from the Grab-Pack, and grabbed their rifle and pointed at the monster, 3 shots were fired in total, hitting the creature’s shoulder, arm and belly. The third shot though, made him clench his wound, but that only made him angry.

“Oh shit..” Huggy Wuggy started to shake violently, as foam came out of his mouth while he stared directly at Player, he screeched and charged towards the small human. Player was able to reload another bullet and tried to fire at him, but the monster managed to hit them first, throwing away the gun from their grasp. He then grabbed Player around their torso, the force was extreme.

Player screamed in pain as they got crushed, they were trying to reach their hunting knife from their pocket. Huggy wuggy started to hold them up in the air, slowly approaching Player’s head inside his mouth, but before getting their head ripped off, Player was able to grab their knife. Bringing the knife down, they stabbed the monster’s eye, blood spraying onto them. The creature screamed in pain as he tried to make Player stop by pushing them away, but they held onto the creature’s fur and kept stabbing the fresh wound.

“Do you like this?! You little shit!” With one last stab, Player was able to rip the entire eye from its socket, it dangled around before sliding out of the knife. At this point, Player’s hands were covered in blood, as well as the blue fur from the monster. Player lost their grip on the monster's fur, this led to Huggy Wuggy throwing them away, making them hit onto a wall.

While the monster was distracted by the pain, Player noticed an opening to the ventilation system of the factory, knowing that they wouldn’t be able to defeat that thing, they retrieved their rifle, grabbed the Grab-Pack’s cannons and entered the ventilation system. Player continue running inside the dark place, they could hear Huggy Wuggy chasing them, his footsteps getting louder and louder.

It felt like a maze, but they were able to find an exit from that place, they were now on top of transportation belts suspended over a seemingly bottomless pit with pipes connected to each other, when they left the vents a door behind them shuts down, but Player knew it wouldn’t hold Huggy Wuggy. Above, they saw another conveyer belt with a large box on top.

With quick thinking, they grabbed the large box using the Grab-Pack right before the monster broke down the ventilation door. The monster sprinted towards Player, but they quickly pulled and dropped the box on the creature, destroying the conveyor belt they both were on top. Player landed on a metal grating, while Huggy Wuggy fell down the dark pit, presumably to his death.

Player sat down, tired of all that running; they retrieved the, somehow, intact whisky bottle from their pocket.

“I’m too old for this shit.” They gulped down a large quantity of the liquid “where to go now?” They closed the bottle and placed it inside their jacket pocket. While looking down the pit, they noticed that the metal gratings led towards a very interesting location. To the center of a giant red poppy flower painted on a wall “Find the Flower…”

They went closer to the giant painting, seeing a door right in the center of it. Player noticed the many toys hanging in strings, all of them covered in blood and missing some of their pats. They opened up the door and went inside, Player was now inside a place that had a vintage aesthetic, with a paper wall full of flowers, countless lamps and long corridors that seemed endless.

After going down a staircase, they saw another door at the end of a hallway, the lamps emitting a red light. They approached and opened the door, revealing a small room; at the middle could be seen a case of glass, containing the most popular toy of Playtime, Poppy.

Player approached her, looking at her perfect porcelain face. With curiosity, they opened up the small glass lid, but suddenly, a strong wave of pain washed over their head, right after they opened. It was so strong that it made Player faint.

Before they went unconscious, they saw the lights flicker and going dark, as well a voice, echoing.

“You opened my case.”

(To be continue)

Chapter 0

EDIT: my dumbass forgot to put the link for the first chapter!

#poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime #i hope you like it

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