#will runs the neighborhood he’s Michael

[hypnogold]

Maple Heights 1: The beginning

In the quiet suburban enclave of Maple Heights, everything seemed to have its place. The two-story homes, with their neatly trimmed hedges and spotless driveways, lined the streets in perfect symmetry. It was the kind of neighborhood where everyone waved hello, the lawns were always green, and the local church bells rang every Sunday without fail. Families gathered in the evenings for barbecues, the kids played soccer in the park, and the routine felt timeless.

But recently, something strange had started to creep into Maple Heights. It began with subtle changes that no one could quite put their finger on at first—little things, like men in the neighborhood who began dressing differently, speaking in more structured, rigid ways. Then, almost overnight, more and more of the men started showing up in identical black Fred Perry polos, each one with distinctive yellow details—a thin stripe running along the collar and cuffs, and the iconic laurel wreath logo embroidered on the chest. These weren't ordinary polos, though. The fabric had a glossy sheen to it, almost rubbery or latex-like, and they were always worn with the top button fastened tight.

The Evans family had been living in Maple Heights for a decade now. Paul and Greg, a married couple raising their three sons—Luke, 24; Michael, 22; and Tyler, 20—had chosen this neighborhood for its peaceful atmosphere and sense of community. Paul worked from home as a software engineer, while Greg ran the local bakery that everyone in town loved. The boys were a lively bunch, each with their own interests—Luke was the athlete, excelling in soccer; Michael spent his time writing music and drawing in his sketchbook; and Tyler, the tech whiz, could be found in his room building gadgets from parts he scavenged at local sales.

Their lives had always been filled with laughter and activity. Weekends meant cookouts in the backyard, bike rides around the block, and movie nights with popcorn on the couch. Church wasn’t a big part of their routine, but every Sunday, Greg made it a tradition to bake fresh pastries and drop them off at the church before opening the bakery. It was his way of staying connected with the community, even if they weren’t particularly religious.

But lately, both Paul and Greg had started noticing changes in the neighborhood, especially among the men. It started with Mr. Anderson, two doors down. He had always been friendly—waving to Greg every morning as he walked his dog past the bakery. But now, Mr. Anderson was different. His usual flannel shirts and casual jackets had been replaced by a sleek black Fred Perry polo with yellow details. Even stranger, the fabric seemed almost rubbery, the way it caught the light. And the way he buttoned it all the way to the top, stiffly and neatly—it made him look more formal than usual. His conversation was short, stilted, and somehow… off.

One evening, as the family gathered around the dinner table, Paul brought it up. “Has anyone else noticed how people around here are dressing differently?”

“Yeah,” Luke said with a frown. “A bunch of guys at soccer practice started wearing those weird black polos. I mean, they look cool, but... everyone’s wearing them, like, every day now.”

“They’re Fred Perry shirts, right? But they look... shiny,” Michael added, tapping his fingers against the table in thought. “And they all button them up to the top. It’s kinda weird, like they’re in some sort of uniform.”

“It’s not just the shirts,” Greg chimed in, shaking his head. “People are acting strange, too. Customers at the bakery used to chat, laugh, but now they come in, order the same thing, and barely make eye contact. They’re so... focused.”

Tyler, the youngest, leaned forward, eyes wide with curiosity. “I saw a bunch of them after church last week. They were all wearing those black polos. I thought maybe it was some church thing.”

Paul and Greg exchanged a concerned glance. “It’s like some sort of group,” Paul said, lowering his voice. “They’re all starting to look and act the same.”

Over the next few weeks, the changes in the neighborhood became more noticeable. More men—fathers, teachers, even some of the older teens—were now dressing in the same glossy black Fred Perry polos, the yellow details standing out sharply against the dark fabric. Each man wore his polo the same way, with the buttons done all the way up to the top, giving them a sleek, almost uniformed appearance. Even their mannerisms had changed—conversations were short, their expressions calm, almost vacant.

Luke noticed it most on his soccer team. At first, it was just a couple of the players who showed up to practice wearing the polos. But soon, half the team had swapped out their jerseys for the slick, rubbery Fred Perry shirts. And once they did, their personalities shifted. They became more focused, more intense, and eerily synchronized. Luke, who still wore his usual soccer gear, felt out of place. His teammates, now all dressed in the black polos with their yellow accents, would glance at him with strange looks, as if waiting for him to join them.

“I’m not wearing one of those,” Luke said to his dads one night, slumping down on the couch. “They’re all acting weird, like they’re in some kind of club. And the coach is in on it, too. He wore one at the last game.”

“I’ve seen the same thing with my friends,” Michael added. “They’re always wearing those shirts now, and it’s like they don’t talk about anything else. It’s not like them.”

Greg sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Even the customers at the bakery... I’ve noticed more of them wearing the polos. They don’t smile, they just take their coffee and leave. And today, one of them asked if I wanted to come to some gathering after church this Sunday.”

“That’s the second time we’ve heard about that,” Paul said, frowning. “Tyler, you said you saw them after church too, right?”

Tyler nodded, his eyes wide. “Yeah, they were all standing around talking after the service. But they weren’t really talking like normal. It was like they were all... rehearsed.”

Greg shivered. “I don’t like this.”

That Sunday, Paul decided to see for himself what was going on. After the church service, while Greg was delivering his pastries, Paul slipped into the side area of the church where the men were gathering. As he stood at the back of the room, he watched them closely. Every man was dressed in the same black Fred Perry polo, the yellow details gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Their shirts were perfectly buttoned up to the top, their expressions calm and focused as they listened to the man leading the meeting. His polo looked newer, glossier than the others, and his voice was firm but soothing as he talked about the “importance of unity” and “the future of Maple Heights.”

It was more than just a social group. This was something bigger, something that was spreading.

When Paul got home, he told Greg everything. “It’s not just the shirts,” he said, pacing the living room. “It’s like they’re all part of some bigger plan. They’re getting more men to join them. It’s like the whole neighborhood is changing.”

Over the next few weeks, the transformation continued to spread. Luke’s soccer team was almost fully converted, the boys showing up to practice in their glossy Fred Perry polos, barely speaking to anyone who wasn’t wearing one. Michael’s friends had stopped hanging out altogether, and whenever he saw them, they were dressed in the same shirts, their conversations short and emotionless. Even Tyler’s teachers had begun to show up to class wearing the same outfits.

One afternoon, Greg came home from the bakery with a tight look on his face. He held up a Fred Perry polo—glossy black with the yellow logo and details—and tossed it on the kitchen table.

“They gave this to me today,” Greg said quietly. “They said it’s time for me to ‘fit in.’”

Paul stared at the shirt, his stomach twisting. “We need to figure out what’s really going on, before it’s too late.”

But deep down, they knew it was already spreading faster than they could stop it. Maple Heights was changing, and it wouldn’t be long before the entire neighborhood was transformed, one slick black polo at a time.

The next week...

Luke stood on the edge of the soccer field, his cleats digging into the grass as he stared out at his teammates, all of whom were already dressed in their glossy black Fred Perry polos. Their yellow-detailed collars were buttoned up tightly to the top, and the sheen of the shirts gleamed unnaturally in the late afternoon sun. He shifted uncomfortably in his old practice jersey, the only one left who hadn’t made the switch.

Over the past few weeks, more and more of his teammates had started showing up to practice in the strange uniforms. At first, it was just a few of the guys, but now, every single one of them wore the latex-like black polo. Coach had been pushing them harder too, but in a way that was unnerving. The drills were more intense, more synchronized. The team barely spoke to each other anymore, their conversations replaced by curt instructions and short exchanges.

Luke felt the pressure mounting every time he stepped onto the field. He knew the others noticed that he was the last one holding out. His friends, or who they used to be, barely made eye contact with him anymore. They’d glance his way with strange, expectant looks, as if waiting for him to join them, to give in.

As practice started, Luke could feel the weight of their eyes on him. He jogged through the drills, but something felt wrong. The usual energy of the game was gone, replaced by an eerie, robotic efficiency. His teammates moved in perfect unison, their movements mechanical, their expressions blank but focused. And all the while, Luke couldn’t shake the feeling that they were watching him—waiting for him to fall in line.

“Luke!” Coach’s voice boomed across the field, pulling him from his thoughts. “Come here.”

Luke jogged over, his heart pounding. Coach stood on the sidelines, his own black Fred Perry polo perfectly buttoned, the yellow details gleaming in the sun. He had been wearing the shirt for a few weeks now, and ever since then, practice had felt more like a drill session than a sport. The coach’s eyes locked onto Luke’s, calm but intense.

“You’re the last one,” Coach said, not unkindly, but with a firmness that sent a chill down Luke’s spine.

Luke glanced at his teammates, all of them standing in formation, watching silently. “Coach, I’m just not sure about the mask. I don’t really feel like I need to wear it,” Luke said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Coach smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s not about the mask, Luke. It’s about unity. The team needs to be united—on and off the field. You’ve seen how well we’ve been playing lately. We’re stronger, more focused.”

Luke shifted uncomfortably, glancing back at his teammates, all eerily still, waiting. He didn’t want to admit it, but there had been something different about their games recently. They were winning, dominating even. But it didn’t feel like a team anymore—it felt like something else, something controlled.

“I just don’t think it’s for me, Coach,” Luke said, though his voice faltered. The pressure was mounting, and deep down, he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer.

Coach’s smile faded, replaced by a look of quiet authority. “It’s time, Luke. You don’t have a choice anymore.”

Before Luke could respond, one of his teammates stepped forward, holding out a neatly folded black Fred Perry polo, the yellow details catching the light. Luke stared at the shirt, his stomach turning. The fabric looked slick, shiny, almost alive, and the thought of putting it on made his skin crawl.

The teammate, a boy who had once been Luke’s best friend, met his gaze, his expression blank but somehow expectant. “Come on, man,” he said softly, his voice calm but emotionless. “It’s just a shirt.”

But it wasn’t just a shirt, and Luke knew it. It was something more. The moment he put it on, he would no longer be himself. He would become just like them—another piece of the machine.

Luke stood frozen, his mind racing. He thought of his family, of his dads and his brothers, and how hard they were trying to resist the changes sweeping through the neighborhood. He didn’t want to give in, but here, on the field, surrounded by his teammates and Coach, he realized he was alone. There was no escape.

Coach stepped forward, his hand resting heavily on Luke’s shoulder. “You’re part of this team, Luke. You need to be like the rest of us.”

Luke swallowed hard, his throat dry. He reached out, his hand shaking slightly as he took the shirt from his teammate. The fabric felt slick and cold against his fingers, heavier than he expected. His mind screamed at him to stop, to throw the shirt away and run, but his body didn’t listen.

Slowly, he pulled the black Fred Perry polo over his head. The latex-like fabric clung to his skin, tightening around him as if it had a will of its own. He adjusted the yellow-detailed collar, his fingers trembling as he buttoned it all the way to the top. The moment the last button clicked into place, a strange warmth spread through him, and his thoughts began to blur.

His mind felt foggy, distant. The resistance he had clung to for so long started to slip away. His shoulders relaxed, and for the first time, he looked at his teammates not with fear or hesitation, but with calm acceptance. The shirt fit perfectly, and for a moment, Luke wondered why he had ever resisted in the first place.

Coach smiled, patting him on the back. “Good. Now you’re part of the team, put this on.”

Luke nodded slowly, his mind quiet. He took his place among his teammates, their faces no longer strange or unsettling, but familiar—like they had always been. The game started again, and this time, Luke moved with them in perfect unison, every step, every movement synchronized.

As the sun set over the soccer field, the last of Luke’s resistance faded into the background, replaced by the quiet calm of uniformity. He was no longer an outsider. He was one of them now.

After practice, Luke walked home in silence, the cool evening air brushing against his face. His mind felt strangely still, as if the buzzing thoughts he had carried all day had finally quieted. The black Fred Perry polo with its glossy sheen and yellow details clung snugly to his body, and the weight of it no longer felt strange—it felt… right. The top button was fastened tight, and though he had been uncomfortable with it at first, now it felt natural, like it was exactly where it should be.

Luke walked home from practice, the full-face rubber gas mask still tightly fitted over his head. The dark, glossy material gleamed faintly under the streetlights as he passed through the quiet, suburban streets of Maple Heights. The once-familiar neighborhood now felt distant, his breathing slow and controlled through the mask’s filters, muffling the sounds around him.

His black Fred Perry polo, with its yellow details and buttoned-up collar, clung to him as he walked, the rubber of the mask and the shirt making him feel as though he was locked into something permanent. Each step felt heavy, yet he was calm. His mind was quiet now, his thoughts no longer his own.

As he approached his house, he saw the warm glow of the kitchen lights through the window. For a moment, something stirred inside him—an echo of the boy he used to be, the Luke who would come home to his dads, joke with his brothers, and feel like himself. But the mask pressed firmly against his face, silencing those thoughts. He reached for the door, knowing they would see him like this.

When he stepped inside, the familiar warmth of home hit him, but it felt different. His dads, Greg and Paul, turned from the kitchen counter, their faces going pale as they saw him standing there, dressed in the glossy black polo and the full-face rubber mask.

“Luke?” Greg’s voice was filled with shock and concern, but Luke didn’t respond. He simply stood there, the mask concealing any expression, the filters hissing softly with each breath.

Paul stepped forward, his voice shaky. “Take it off, son. You don’t have to wear that.”

But Luke didn’t move. The mask stayed on, its grip on him firm, the strange calm washing over him once again. He was home, but he wasn’t the same anymore. And as his dads stared at him in disbelief, Luke knew that the boy they once knew was slipping away.

[kaiser1ns]

𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗸𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

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╹synopsis :: good luck appears suddenly, even if it's just for little while, but there is always hope and faith for another tomorrow.

╹contents :: MAP OF THE SOUL PT. 2, 2.4k words, fluff + angst, KAISER BACKSTORY TW: physical abuse, alcohol.

╹taglist :: @chaosinanutshell @rinitoshisgirl @thebluelockroyals

Closing the door as he heard a glass breaking once he stepped outside in the sun that shined upon him, giving some type of warmth as he put the black hood over his head walking away from the so called 'home'. As Michael strolled through the neighborhood, the faint jingle of a bell caught his attention. Pausing, he realized the sound ceased whenever he stopped. Strange, the boy though and continued walking, the bells chiming anew as he moved forward. Turning, he spotted a sleek black cat with a white collar and a bell attached to it.

A lost cat? Kneeling down, he inspected the collar, discovering the cat's name, Felicity, and a phone number. Too bad he didn't have a phone to call and get the cat out of here. Well, there's nothing for me to do. He patted the cat on the head, got up and continued to walk aimlessly leaving the animal behind. Michael was now a little further away, and there was no sound of the tinkling of a bell. Maybe the cat found its owner already and is taken care of by receiving treats and pats.

Speaking of treats his stomach rumbled, and before he went out, he took a little bit of his savings in case of getting hungry. It was strange for him to go into the store and buy something instead of stealing it like his father wanted him to do. He took the most ordinary sandwich with ham, cheese and some sauce. When he was at the register paying, he saw the candy Y/N gave him as a reward — he will keep the location of the sweets in mind.

Walking out of the store, holding the soccer ball in one hand and the sandwich in the other, the blonde boy made his way to the playground where he first saw the girl two weeks ago, and sadly he hadn't seen her since. Well the boy can't blame her — she probably went to school and has other close friends to hangout with, something he doesn't have. Sitting on the ground, leaning against the graffiti wall he began to eat, until suddenly the sound of a bell was heard again.

Michael looked up, his eyes locking with the familiar black cat from earlier. She mewed at him, her white collar glinting in the sunlight as she approached rubbing at his leg. He couldn't help but smile at her persistence. "You again, huh?" he murmured, tearing off a piece of ham from his sandwich and offering it to her.

The cat wasted no time, devouring the ham eagerly. Once they both finished their meal he got up and without hesitation, started dribbling and kicking the ball around. To his surprise, the cat seemed intrigued, her paw batting at the ball whenever it came close. It reminded him of someone, though he couldn't quite put his finger on who. Michael took a break, sitting back against the wall and Felicity wasted no time in curling up in his lap, purring contentedly as he stroked her fur. It was a rare moment of peace for him, every time he goes out it's his free time from the prison with the awful guard that stayed in. He cherished moments like that more than anything and he wished to see Y/N again, so they can play together and maybe win another pack of candy.

As he enjoyed the quiet moment with the cat, he heard footsteps approaching. Turning his head, he saw the angel in disguise running towards him, clutching a poster in her hand that had a photo of the now sleeping pet. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her bright smile and eyes that were glossy, Did she cry?, he wondered but her sad face was quickly replaced upon seeing the boy.

"Michael!" the girl exclaimed, relief evident in her childish voice as she reached him. "Thank you for finding Felicity! I was so worried to where she could have gone."

A smile graced Michael's lips as he realized the cat belonged to her. No wonder it reminded him of someone he knew. "I didn't know it was yours," he admitted, still patting the sleeping feline. "She just followed me all day."

You chuckled, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "She has this habit of following people, though it was only family members and not one of my friends." The word friends echoed in Michael's mind, stirring something warm and unfamiliar in his chest. He looked into Y/N eyes, feeling something that he had never imagined to exist, as if he was lost in the galaxy with millions of stars to explore, falling deeper and deeper into the black holes, losing himself. What's this feeling? Why is my heart beating so fast? He couldn't figure it out, what's happening inside him, and why is she the reason for it?

"And you know animals can sense if a person is good or not, so she chose you for a reason." Michael couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth at your words, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "I'm glad I could help," he replied softly, his gaze still locked with yours. "And I'm glad you were here, because I was going to ask you to help me, but there is no need anymore."

There was a moment of silence between them, Michael shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say next. But before he could gather his thoughts, Y/N spoke again, her voice gentle and caring.

"Michael, are you okay?" she asked, eyes searching his face with concern. "Where did you hurt yourself?"

For a moment, panic gripped Michael's chest as he instinctively reached for the hood of his jacket, pulling it over his head to hide the scar his father had left that morning. "I fell very hard on the ground while dribbling," he lied, of course he would lie not to make her worry about his personal matters and mostly not to scare her, because what if she tells her parents about him being abused? It will not end well.

The girl frowned, clearly not convinced by his answer. But instead of pressing further, she reached into her bag and pulled out some pink bandages. "Sorry, it's the only color I have left," apologizing, a small smile playing on her lips as she gently applied the bandage to his forehead.

Michael's heart swelled as he watched Y/N tend to him with such care and kindness. Despite his best efforts to keep his struggles hidden, she always seemed to see right through him, offering comfort and support without hesitation. It was a feeling he wasn't accustomed to, but one he found himself craving more and more with each passing day.

As she finished bandaging his wound, Michael couldn't help but meet the girl's gaze once again, his eyes soft and vulnerable — a child's look. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, but it was genuine.

A smile tugged at the corners of Y/N lips as she reached out to tuck a hair behind his ear, wanting to see his beautiful and gentle face. "Anytime, Michael, friends help eachother."

For twelve year old he thought she was very mature, always so kind, so gentle — a beacon of light in his otherwise dark world. He couldn't help but be jealous at her innocence and grace, hoping that she would never lose that spark, unlike him, cursed by the mistakes of two adults.

"Also I'm sorry for not showing up, I know you must have been waiting for me"

He just stared at the girl slowly nodding his head acknowledging what she said but he wasn't mad, not even in the slightest. The cat who slept in Michael's lap woke up and went to her owner "Felicity don't you run away like that!" Y/N scolded the cat but of course the animal just let out a 'meow' as she laughed enjoying a moment with her pet then she looked back at Michael who was still staring.

"Hey, Misha, do you want to play tomorrow?"

"Misha?" Y/N giggled, noticing Michael's uncertain expression at the nickname. "Sorry, is it okay if I call you Misha? It just popped into my head, and it's kinda cute, don't you think?"

Michael blinked, a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he processed her words. "I mean, sure, yeah," he replied, his voice softening at the end. Looking doen kicking the ball with his feet to distract himself from the burning tension in his body. He couldn't deny the warmth that spread through him at the sound of her calling him by that name.

Y/N grinned, delighted by Michael's response. "Great! Misha it is then." She scooted closer, her excitement bubbling over. "So, tomorrow, let's meet at the playground at 14:00. We can play some soccer, swing on the swings, and I can give you the cookies I made. What do you say?"

Michael's heart skipped a beat at the thought of spending more time with Y/N. "Yeah, that sounds cool," he said, his smile widening. "I'll be here."

As they continued chatting, Y/N suddenly leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Hey, Misha, can I ask you something more?"

"Yeah," Michael replied, a hint of curiosity in his voice. Y/N hesitated for a moment before mustering up the courage to ask, "Um, do you have a phone? I thought maybe we could exchange numbers so we can call eachother for when to play."

Michael's cheeks flushed even deeper as he nervously played with the ball. "Um, actually, I don't have a phone," he admitted, feeling a pang of embarrassment. "Sorry."

Y/N's smile didn't falter as she reached out to gently squeeze his hand. "Hey, it's okay. Don't worry about it," she reassured him "We can still meet up here at the playground whenever we want to hang out, okay? And if anyone of us doesn't show up we can always see eachother the next time."

A sense of relief washed over Michael as he gazed into Y/N's comforting gaze. "Yeah, okay," he agreed, feeling grateful for her understanding. With a bright smile the youngster nodded, her eyes filled with happiness. "See you tomorrow at 14:00 then?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," the young boy replied, his smile matching hers as they made plans for their next date. Y/N and Michael stood facing each other as the silence fell, but it was calm and pleasant, not oppressive as if they were expecting some monster to come out of nowhere.

"Thanks for looking after Felicity," Y/N said softly, leaning in and planting a quick kiss on Michael's cheek, it was a tender action, making him melt on the spot, something so simple meant a lot — it was his first kiss, his first touch filled not with anger and hatred but instead of love and care. She was causing his heart to flutter even more, was it not enough for his heart to beat so fast earlier?

"It was no problem," Michael replied, trying to hide the excitement in his voice. With a shy smile, she turned to leave, her cat cradled in her arms. Watching her go, feeling a sense of longing already creeping into his chest as he didn't want this moment to end, not now, not ever. Michael touched his cheek gently, still feeling the warmth of her lips lingering there, is this what it feels like to be blessed with angel's grace? He hopes he will get to experience it again. Realizing he was standing alone in the fading light, the sounds of laughter and play fading into the distance.

He took a deep breath and he was infront of his home, his heart now heavy with the weight of the inevitable goodbye and the welcoming sounds of glass breaking.

Opening the door he was met with his drunk father who was watching TV but he didn't seem entertained and the bottles and trash on the ground made it for the energy in the house. But before the boy stepped further into the room he removed the patch from his forehead because he knew there would be even more scars if a bystander helped him and he wanted to keep Y/N safe.

His father's eyes snapped towards him, bloodshot and furious.

"Why the hell aren't you home earlier?" His father's voice boomed, shaking the walls of their small house. "I told you to be back hours ago, you useless piece of shit!"

The boy swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to appease his father's anger. "I'm sorry, Dad. I lost track of time."

"Lost track of time?" His father's voice rose, the frustration palpable in every word as he got up from the couch. "And where's the damn alcohol I asked you to bring,huh?"

The boy's heart sank. He had hoped his father wouldn't notice, but the empty bottles strewn across the floor were impossible to miss. "I... I couldn't find any," he stammered, knowing it was a feeble excuse.

The older man's face turned a dangerous shade of red. His eyes widened, his pupils narrowed, and the emotions he displayed were enough to scare anyone. Maybe it's better for his mother that she's gone so she doesn't have to see this, even though that she is the cause of everything. "Couldn't find any? You stupid pig..."

Before he could finish his sentence, the boy's father lunged towards him, his words drowned out by a tidal wave of anger and disappointment. The boy braced himself for the onslaught, knowing that this was just another night in their tumultuous existence. But amidst the chaos, he made a silent vow to be stronger so he can have another day to see his angel.

With a swift motion, his father's hand connected with his cheek, the same cheek Y/N kissed him now is tarnished, sending him crashing to the ground. He layed there, stunned and helpless, as his father's tirade continued, the sound of breaking glass punctuating each sentence. There was no defense, no escape from the torrent of anger that engulfed him. All he could do was endure, his body trembling with fear and resignation but he was already so used to it.

Each blow, both physical and verbal, carved deeper into his already bruised soul. But through the haze of pain and despair, one thought burned brighter than the rest: he had to stay strong, for her. For the hope of a better tomorrow, where he could see his blessing sent from above, but why isn't he blessed with good fortune right now? Is his suffering not enough, dear God?

As his father's rage finally subsided, leaving only a hollow silence in its wake, the boy clung to that flicker of hope, knowing it was all he had to hold onto. Will something be different? But this day will be over when the minute and second hands overlap as the world holds its breath for a little while.

Felicity means happiness, good fortune

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[small-sinclair]

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Whumptober 17: Nowhere else to go

A RZ!Michael Myers x fem sleeping!reader Tw: stocker maybe?, gore mentioned, blood mentioned, he might be obsessed with reader if you squint

Nowhere else to go

Michael knew who you were because he’s not only seen you around the neighborhood, but he’s seen you without you spotting him. He wasn’t stocking you, for say, but he wasn’t planning to kill you, either. You were just part of his daily check list for some reason, and he had to see you at the same time every day. If he doesn’t, there’s a new body, a new murder story for the morning news the next day. Michael saw more as a little wondering soul than a person. If anything, he saw you more as a thing to watch for than go after. You’re just as harmless as a bunny.

Which led him to sneaking into your house while the cops were searching for him, trying to stop the freak with the knife, the Boggy Man as some call him. He knew where your spare key was hidden, he knew which door to use, and he knew which path to take to get to your room. His footsteps went unheard as he inched closer to your sleeping form and tangled sheets. As far as he knew, he didn’t know what he was going to do to you. He stood at the edge of your bed, watching you as you slept, thinking to himself all the terrible, bloody things he could do to your body. He could rip you apart limp from limp, break every bone in alphabetical order, kill you swiftly, silently, or he could wrap his hands around that delegate throat of yours and just squeeze. Michael thought over and over on what he wanted to do, but each one made his stomach churn and turn away from you every time he thought of your body in a mangled mess.

No matter how hard he pushed himself, how hard he wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to harm you.

Must be from that cheek list he made.

His grip on the knife loosens and hits the wooden floor, causing you to stir but go back to sleep. His heavy blue and green eyes looked over your skin, perfect as a picture in the moonlight, and marveled at your peaceful from. What were you dreaming about? What beautiful dream were you living in that head of yours? Let him be part of it just for a moment. Spare a thought, a vision of him, then set him free from the cobwebs and chains that held him back for so long. If he couldn’t be part of it, not part of the little thoughts and threads, then stay at peace and still, for he doesn’t want the darkness that follows to engulfed your running water thoughts and gentle breathing.

Michael wished he didn’t have to be here, but the police were closing in like a pack of hunting dogs to a fox. He had nowhere else to go, but he felt thankful in a way. He’s looking over a sleeping angel with the moon tangled in their hair, making a halo of hope and bliss. Apart from breaking into your home in the dead of night with dry blood on his boots, he felt blessed to be gifted with this vision of you.

Gently, he lifts his mask, taking it off, and placing it quietly on your dresser. He two to steps, just striding without effort, and stood over you. He basked in the moonlight view of you, wishing he could take a photo and have it in his pocket. Michael pulls his hair back until it was resting on his shoulder and knelt on the floor in front of your sleeping face. The monster felt human for once. The shadow over this town faded until there was a man just looking back in a reflective surface. Slowly, he inched closer to you, daring his courage and thoughts, until he felt your breath, cool and smooth, on his lip. Michael shuddered at the thought of your lips on his, marveling at the thought of you waking up and embracing him as a man, not as a monster, as a killer, and as a lunitic that escaped. Thoughts of being normal carved into his bones until he felt them turn into dust, and he felt more and more at home as he looked at you.

You’re on his list, his check list.

He had nowhere else to go, nowhere else to call home, yet he found it here with you sleeping in an oversized shirt and gym shorts. He found it sleeping soundlessly under tangled blankets and a small mountain of stuffed animals. The peacefulness that flows from your heartbeat and blood flow...he wanted to be a part of your more until thoughts of him being in you, physical and mentally. He wanted to be a part of your story and live a thousand tales with you. He was just there, right there! So close to your sleeping arms and blissful lips that he began to hunger for—

Not like this. No... he can’t do this like this.

Michael withdrew from your side and stood up, blocking the moonlight from making your skin glow. He licked his lips as his eyes marveled and memorized each curve and mark on your body. He turns, picks up his knife, and takes his mask. He gives you one last glance, one last moment for his eyes to gaze over you like this and leaves your room for the living room. He sits down on the rocking chair and leaned back into the cushion until he felt his eyes drift off. Sleep called for him, for the man who never slept before a day in his life. As his eyes closed, his last thoughts were spared for you and your moonlight haloed hair.

[zepskies]

Take Me Home - Part 7

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: For everyone who has Easter plans tomorrow (Happy Easter!), I decided to release this part a bit early. And yes, we’re at that part of the season 3 plotline…

Word Count: 6.6K

Tags/Warnings: Major angst, survival situations, violence, hurt/comfort.

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 7: On the Edge of a Knife

Beau returned home that night with a large pizza for Carla and Emily. He’d already eaten with you an hour ago, but true to his legendary appetite, he still found room for a slice of pepperoni. They got comfortable around the fire out in front of his trailer.

“What held you up?” Carla asked.

Beau sighed and first wiped a bit of sauce from his face with a napkin. He admitted there was an altercation between you and your ex-boyfriend, Michael Hadley. Beau happened to be there in time to settle things down and help patch you up after you fell through a glass coffee table.

“Oh my God. Is she okay?” Emily asked. Beau noted her concern with a smile.

“She’s fine. Some minor cuts and bruises,” he said. “But I had to encourage the guy to leave town. If he’s got any sense, he’ll get gone.”

Emily looked relieved at that. Then she eyed him with a suspicious smile.

“And you just happened to be in the neighborhood?” she asked slyly, voicing the thought that Carla hadn’t wanted to.

Both women watched him closely, but Carla knew the tell-tale signs of Beau covering his embarrassment, giving his daughter a wry look.

“All right, smart Alec. Why don’t you break out the extra sheets I got in the trailer? We’ll set up the bed and the couch.”

“If you can call that glorified bench a couch,” Emily muttered with a grin. 

“Ey!” Beau called after her, though he watched her go in amusement.

After a couple more hours of chatting and catching up, showers taken and plates washed, Emily headed for bed. The adults stayed up for a while, bundled in warm coats as they sat together by the fire.

Beau remembered what Emily told him days ago; that he hadn’t needed to be a perfect man for his wife and daughter. They’d just needed him to be a bit more honest about what he was going through, to let them in. After what happened today with you, your patience and understanding with him…he was beginning to get what she meant.

“I’m really thankful for you helping us,” Carla said. It unearthed him out of his own head.

“Yeah,” he replied with a nod.

Admittedly, he was still a bit distracted. Besides how he left things with you (which still made heat crawl up the back of his neck), he still had Avery and that stolen money to worry about. Otherwise known as the reason Carla and Emily would have to cram themselves in his little trailer.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Carla prodded, laying a gentle hand on his arm.

“I just got a bad feeling about all this,” he confessed. “It’s like in Houston with Randy.”

“No,” she shook her head. “You can’t go there.”

“It’s too late,” he replied. “‘Cause it feels the same. Like something’s…something is comin’, and I’m powerless to stop it.”

“Randy’s death was not your fault,” she reminded him. Just like you had.

Beau looked over at her with a humorless quirk of his lips.

“We both know that’s not true. He was my partner and I let him down. And then…then I wasn’t there for you, or Emily. I don’t blame you for leaving me.”

Carla couldn’t help it, but a part deep inside her had been regretting that choice. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She managed to blink and keep them at bay, though she let out a shaky breath.

“Well, you’re here for us now,” she said. And yet, she could’ve predicted his next words like clockwork.

“It don’t make up for the way I checked out,” he said.

Carla licked her dry lips and swallowed down the emotion clogging her throat. She didn’t cry often. She could have an ironclad grip on her emotions when she needed to.

It was part of what made her a good lawyer. She knew Beau had sometimes gotten frustrated with that aspect of her personality in the past, because he was the opposite.

The man kept a good lid on things for his job, but at heart, he was driven by his passion, his anger, his love, and right now, his bone-deep guilt and shame.

She knew he’d been drowning in it for a year and hadn’t known how to pull him out. Every time he pushed her away, it had hurt her, hardened her, making her will to try again less and less. So she left him. 

It was the choice she made, and she knew she had to live with it. Just like marrying Avery.

Carla laid a hand on Beau’s over his knee. She made sure he looked her in the eyes when she said this.

“I forgive you. For all of that, okay?” she said. After a moment, he nodded. This time, she felt like he actually heard her.

“But I’m telling you, this thing with Avery…this isn’t over by a long shot,” he told her. “I’m not saying that to scare you. You understand that?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, even though those tears from earlier were working their way down her face. She wiped them away hastily.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you two,” Beau said, in a firm, reassuring tone.

It worked, and it didn’t. Carla nodded again. “I know.”

He sighed through his nose and squeezed her hand. His gaze shifted away, back to the bonfire dancing in front of them. His eyes stung at both the smoke, and the emotion rising in his chest. He steeled himself.

“Carla, I’ll always love you…”

She smiled slightly, brushing the remaining tears from her cheek.

“Though I sense a but coming,” she said.

When she said your name in question, Beau glanced back over at her and nodded. Carla had been his first real love, besides Daisy Harlow in the eleventh grade.

But you were unexpected. How quickly, how deeply you’d gotten under his skin was too hard to ignore. And at this point, he didn’t want to.

Meanwhile, Carla stared at her ex-husband in bemusement. She slipped her hand from his and folded hers back in her lap.

“What’s she like?” she asked. Half of her was genuinely curious. The other half would rather not hear his answer, but she supposed it was only fair. She was the one who moved on first.

Still, the flicker of Beau’s soft smile stung, just a little.

“She’s special,” he said. “Resilient, like you. And smart to boot. You know she’s a college professor?”

“Yeah, Emily told me,” Carla said. 

Beau’s smile dimmed when he noted the resignation in her voice. She gave him a knowing look. 

“I have no right to complain,” she said. “And you deserve to be happy too, Beau.”    

He considered that with a nod. He wasn’t sure if he believed her, but for your sake…he would try.

“Can you promise me something?” Carla asked. 

“Name it,” he said.

“I know Avery is in this thing deep. He lied to me and he created this mess. Even when this is over, I don’t know what’s going to happen between us. I know I’m asking a lot of you, but please, look out for him,” she implored. Beau uttered a wry chuckle and rubbed at his chin.

“He is in this deep. And he’s being stubborn about it,” he said. “I might not be able to help him walk it back, but I will try.”  

Carla released another sigh and nodded in response. She supposed that was the best she could hope for. 

A few days later, you walked up and down the grocery store aisles with a basket in one hand and your phone against your ear with the other.

“Okay, I’ve got all manners of junk food and chick-flick movie watching snacks, including Reese’s cups, ice cream, frozen pizzas, and no less than three bottles of wine,” you said. “Am I missing anything?”

“I don’t think so, hun. That sounds very comprehensive,” Denise replied.

She was at work, and you were still getting ready for the fall semester. It was only a little over a month away, which meant you were excited, and also nervous.

You had five classes on your roster. You’d also visited Carroll College yesterday to set up your office with all your books, both textbooks and your favorites in fiction and non-fiction (but mostly fiction). Much Ado About Nothing was front and center in the Shakespeare section of your shelf.

You also wanted to at least try and relax for the rest of your summer. Denise was all too willing to help. You’d always had a good relationship with your aunt, albeit distant, since you’d lived in different states.

Living so close now just made you realize how much you two had in common. It was nice to find a friend in her, not just someone who would try to mother you in your own mother’s absence. 

“Yes! Good. Then get ready to brainstorm what movies we’re gonna watch tonight, and in what order,” you said.

“Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t already have a color-coded checklist,” Denise quipped.

You laughed. Yes, she knew you too well. “Okay, maybe I do, but you still get a vote.”

You turned a corner in the aisles and nearly ran right into Carla, who was pushing a cart. You both jolted in surprise and recognition.

“Oh, hi! I’m sorry,” you said, at the same time she said, “Sorry, I…”

You two did the polite, nervous laughter people did when put in awkward situations. You noticed all the food she had in her cart—enough to feed a family of three for the week.

“Yeah, finally getting around to doing a grocery run,” she said. “Beau’s trailer leaves much to be desired in the form of amenities, so…”

You adopted a more amused smile. “Yeah, he’s not much of a cook, is he?”

“Do frozen fish sticks count?” Carla remarked.

“Only if there’s expired tartar sauce, according to Emily,” you joked. The two of you shared a laugh that was a little more genuine. You chatted for a couple minutes more before you parted with amiable handwaving. Then you realized that your aunt was still hanging on the line.

You sighed and put your phone back up to your ear. “Hey, sorry.”

“Was that who I think it was?” Denise asked. She was probably trying to be cryptic, if Emily was in the room with her.

“Indeed, it was. Doing a nice family-sized grocery run,” you whispered back, to make sure you weren’t overheard. You brought your basket of junk to one of the checkout lines.

“When was the last time you heard from him?” Denise asked. She must’ve heard the heaviness in your voice. You both knew exactly who “him” was code for. Beau friggin’ Arlen.

“Not since we said goodbye last week,” you replied. And the memory of that kiss had been torturing you for days. It had also been the fuel of many…late nights with yourself.

Speaking of which, need some more AA batteries, you thought with a warm blush.

“Okay, forget candy. We should get cheesecake,” Denise proposed.

You smiled. “You know what, that’s a damn good idea. Definitely cheesecake.”

You hopped out of line to do just that. You knew it probably wouldn’t be as good as Chicago made, but you went over to the bakery side of the store and hunted for the most good-looking cheesecake you could find.

“Hey, if you want, stop by here later,” your aunt said. “Em is here. We’ll grab lunch, make it a real girls’ day.”

“Sure,” you agreed. You hadn’t seen Emily in a week or so either. “Where are you thinking? I’ve been wanting to try that Indian place down the street from your office.”

“Sounds good to me. Come over after you drop those groceries off at home.”

“Okay, will do. I’ll see you guys soon!” you said. 

Beau knew that he was going to be working straight through lunch. What he, Jenny, and Cassie had discovered in the past 24 hours was deeply unsettling. 

Not only was Walter Sunny Barnes’s son, but Paige was alive. She’d been found in the foyer of Sunny’s home, brandishing a knife, convinced the married couple were in it together on her kidnapping. Sunny claimed she’d had no idea her husband had taken the poor girl and kept her in a shack for days.

According to Paige’s testimony, Buck Barnes had tried to kill her. And since she was alive, it meant Walter had lied in confessing to her murder. It was also likely that he hadn’t killed Mary or Luke either.

That wasn’t even the worst of Beau’s headache.

He rubbed his face in frustration after getting off the phone with Carla. Thanks to this whole business of Avery’s stolen cryptocurrency, she was being followed. 

Fuckin’ hell, Beau thought. The next time he saw Avery, it had better be with handcuffs, or he was going to start working on his punch list for real. Instead, Beau grabbed his cell and called his daughter.

“Hey, Dad,” she answered on the third ring.

“Hey, honey. You doin’ all right? You good?” he asked. Maybe he was coming on a little strong, but worry was a living thing inside his gut.

“Yeah, totally. Just doing some research…but guess who’s coming to have lunch with us later?” she asked.

Her tone was leading him somewhere, and Beau thought he knew the destination. His lips curved with a half-smile. When he guessed your name, Emily confirmed.

“You’re welcome to join us. If, you know, you wanted to,” she teased.

Beau’s smile twisted with disbelief. Was his daughter trying to set him up? And better yet, it seemed like she liked you well enough to do it. While the thought warmed him, his smile dimmed.

“Wish I could, but uh, I got a lot of work here to do. I’m just…checking up on ya, like dads do,” he said.

As much as he wanted to see you (and he really, really did), he wasn’t lying. He needed to follow up on the man who’d trailed Carla to the drycleaners this morning. And he already had Jenny and Poppernak looking into finding Buck Barnes. He’d fled the scene after Paige and Sunny were picked up at the Barnes residence.

“Well, okay, consider me checked. We can talk later if you want,” Emily said. She sounded a bit disappointed. Beau felt guilty for that, but he’d make it up to her tonight. Maybe he’d bring home some takeout so Carla didn’t have to cook again in his tiny kitchenette.

“All right, honey. If not, I’ll see you tonight,” he said. “Just…don’t go anywhere by yourself, okay? Make sure Denise or Cassie’s with you. Matter of fact, I’ll pick you up from there today.”

“Yeah sure,” she said. Though he didn’t think she really heard the warning in his voice.

“‘Kay. Bye, Dad.”

She hung up, leaving Beau still feeling off-balanced. Until news came in from a fellow officer: while Paige had been brought to the hospital, Sunny Barnes had been brought into the station for questioning about her husband.

“Sorry I’m so late. I started cleaning my apartment and lost track of time,” you said, walking into the office of Dewell & Hoyt. Denise and Emily waved at you from their respective desks.

“That’s okay. We’ve been busy here,” Denise said. You looked at the large pinboard on the wall filled with news clippings and pieces of evidence. Bleeding Heart Killer, read many of the subject lines.

“Ech. Still working on this?” you asked.

“Unfortunately,” said Denise. She grabbed up her purse and went over to kiss your cheek in greeting. “But we might’ve gotten a huge break on it. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”

“Get back? Where’re you going?” you asked.

“To get the food! I already placed the orders,” she said, patting your arm. “I’ll be right back.”

You gave her a narrowed look. “I was going to pay for it—”

“No need!” Denise sing-songed on her way out of the office. It had you smiling, shaking your head. You looked over at Emily and tossed a thumb over your shoulder.

“Careful with her. She can be devious,” you said.

Emily smiled and stood up from her desk. She went over to sit with you on the small couch near the center of the room.

“I’m actually glad you’re here,” she said. “I’ve kinda got a question for you.”

“Kinda?” you echoed with a smile, but you pat her on the knee. “What’s on your mind, honey?”

Emily looked a little unsure. It had you giving her your undivided attention.

“It’s about my dad,” she began. Your smile slowly fell, but now you were really listening.

“Okay,” you nodded.

Emily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the lights in the entire office went out.

Natural light still came in from the large windows at the front. It was odd though. The weather outside, while chilly, wasn’t cold enough to create an outage. You hadn’t heard anything fizzle when the lights went out either.

“That’s weird—” Emily said.

The back door burst open with the sound of hinges breaking. Both of you gasped and stood from the couch. You slipped a hand into your purse to find your phone, and then the first contact you could think of.

You were about to press the call button when a tall man with broad shoulders stepped through. He was older, balding, and his clothes and neck were stained with blood.

Buck Barnes.

“Buck?” you gasped. “What…what’re you doing here?”

He didn’t look like the easy going, kind-hearted man you knew at the camp. Now, he looked haggard, injured, and dangerous, like a wild animal.

“Hush up,” Buck held up a silver pistol in his right hand. “And drop that phone, nice and slow.”

Your heart was in your throat, but you couldn’t just think of yourself. You subtly tried to pull Emily behind you as you set your phone down on the ground.

“You tried to kill Paige,” Emily accused of the man. It had you turning to her, your eyes going wide. When you looked over at Buck to gauge his reaction, you saw how his lips pursed.

“Sit down and shut up,” Buck ordered, gesturing with his gun at both of you. He drew closer and forced you and Emily to sit beside each other on the couch. There he grabbed a roll of duct tape from his pocket and began taping your shaking hands together.

“Why’re you doing this?” you asked Buck.

“I need some collateral if I’m gonna get the hell outta dodge,” he replied.

“Fine, but let Emily go. She’s just a kid,” you begged, as tears stung at your eyes.

Buck just continued taping you up. Thankfully not your feet, just your wrists. He moved to Emily next. 

“You don’t need her,” you tried again. “Come on, Buck. You really think Beau Arlen’s going to want to work something out with you if you take his daughter?”

“Oh, I’m bettin’ he’ll be more than willing.” Buck grabbed you and placed a strip of tape across your mouth, then on Emily’s. He hooked a large, calloused hand around your arm.

“Now get up.”

“What?!” Beau asked. His eyes widened in alarm. “Slow down, Denise. What’s going on?”

The more he listened, the more his heart plummeted into his stomach. He had to grip his work desk for balance.

It took him and Jenny under half an hour to meet up with Cassie and Denise back at Dewell & Hoyt, along with a forensics unit of officers. There was evidence of struggle in a turned over table and a broken back door lock.

Denise explained that she left you and Emily for just a few minutes while she went to grab a late lunch order. By the time she returned, the power was out, set off by the breakers, and you and Emily were missing.

Jenny found your purse on the couch, while Beau found your cell phone on the ground. He picked it up with a gloved hand. He’d seen you unlock your phone enough times to remember your passcode.

When he inputted those six numbers and unlocked the screen, he found his own name and phone number highlighted there. You’d been about to call him.

He squeezed your phone tight in his hand. He looked up and saw another officer pick up Emily’s backpack.

“No power means no surveillance footage,” Jenny said. “Okay, let’s think. Why take her and Emily?”

“It’s gotta do with Avery and the money he stole,” Beau said, grinding his teeth. “I needa find him.”

“Any idea where he might be held up?” Jenny asked.

“Carla will know,” he replied.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Jenny was quick to offer. She could see his rage bubbling.

“No,” he said, cutting her off with a swift hand. “Get a response team ready, but I don’t want anybody doing anything without checking with me!”

He was out the door before any of the women could stop him. Denise was in tears, both for you and for Emily. Cassie wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“We’re gonna find them,” she promised.

You and Emily were in the backseat of an SUV. Buck was singing along to some country song, driving them down a highway to hell knows where. 

The tears had begun to dry on your cheeks. It didn’t mean you were no longer petrified, but for Emily, to give her support, you’d been able to keep breathing through it. She was still in panic mode, hyperventilating as tears streamed down her face.

“Y’all better quiet down back there,” Buck warned.

You grabbed Emily’s hands and met her frantic eyes with your calmer ones. You were hoping to reassure her, let her know that while you were scared too, you were with her. She wasn’t alone.

She squeezed your hands back, even though it made you wince. Your right hand was still injured. Again, you breathed through it so you could hold her back. You rested the side of your head against hers to try and help steady her further. If you could, you would’ve held her like a mother bear.

Emily leaned against your side and began to calm down, bit by bit. Meanwhile, Buck continued to talk your ears off—about country music, and how this particular song was the one he and Sunny danced to at their wedding. Though frankly, you couldn’t give a shit about anything that was coming out of his mouth.

All you knew was that it was nighttime, pitch black darkness by the time he pulled into a plaza. It looked like a gas station next to a bar.

Only in Montana, you mused. Though you perked up at attention when Buck parked and actually left the car.

Of course, he took the keys with him and put the child locks on the doors, but you tugged at the duct tape Buck put around your ankles when he’d forced you and Emily into this car. If you could get free, then you could shove your way into the front seat and unlock the doors.

Emily tried to help you. You winced as the tape tugged at your skin. At least I shaved yesterday.

She gasped around her gag when she saw a young man coming their way in the parking lot. You joined her in banging on the window, trying to get his attention.

“Oh my God,” you heard him say, muffled as it was through the window. You pointed at the front of the car, trying to communicate to him to break the window open there.

“Hold on, I’ll get you guys out of there,” he said. He went to the front of the car and tried at the door handles, but before he could get very far in his attempt to free you, Buck came up behind the younger man and grabbed him in a chokehold.

You and Emily screamed at him, but it was no use. You did your best to shield Emily’s eyes when Buck snapped the man’s neck.

Bad call, bad leadership, bad police work.

Beau felt the weight of his shame like never before—all while he held Carla and rocked her in his arms. She’d just arrived at the police station, after getting the news that her husband had been killed.

When he learned that Emily was taken, Avery tried to help Beau and the police confront the men he’d stolen the $15 million from, but Avery had gone rogue by bringing a gun into the equation.

Beau had just one chance to pull Avery out and send in his unit of officers on standby. Jenny had asked him what he wanted to do, hoping he would make the right choice.

Beau had been selfish. He wanted to see if the men would give up the location on where they were holding you and Emily, so he kept Avery in play. He’d thought the man would be fine with Tonya and Donno backing him up in the room.

After all was said and done, however, Avery lay dead in a pool of his own blood with a bullet in his chest. The criminals also hadn’t taken you or Emily.

By process of elimination, Beau now knew it was Buck. The man had already killed a hiker on his way out of the woods, where he’d been holding Paige.

Now it was a whole new manhunt.

“Beau,” Jenny said. “We have something on Buck.”

It prompted him to drag himself out of the dark spiral of his thoughts. He let Carla go, but kept a supportive hand on her back. She was still distraught, and understandably so—not just for her husband, but for her missing daughter.

Jenny gave Carla a sympathetic look. She beckoned him over though.

“Come see this,” she said.

Beau comforted Carla one moment more, rubbing her back, but she encouraged him to go with Jenny. She led him into another room where Cassie was waiting for them, and Jenny’s laptop was connected to a smart TV.

On the screen was new surveillance footage of a parking lot, outside a bar a few hours out of town. There was a green pickup truck parked next to a black SUV. Beau couldn’t see you or Emily, but he watched Buck drag the dead body of a man behind the truck.

“Buck was casing the lot for a car to steal,” Jenny said. “We’re guessing this unlucky guy found them.”

“It means they’re still alive,” Cassie pointed out. Jenny drew attention to the keys, or whatever it was that Buck dropped and picked up off the floor. It was hard to make out from the footage.

Cassie agreed to ask Cormack Barnes if he knew what the keys were for, considering he already had the keys to the pickup trick in his hand when he picked up the fallen set. Beau knew it was time to question Sunny Barnes again.

He headed down the hall to do just that, with Jenny on his heels. Soon though, he found himself slowing down in the hall, like his feet were made of rubber. That, and his heart was fracturing. Jenny slowed down with him, giving him a questioning look.

“It’s just…it’s the one thing we’re supposed to do. Protect our kids,” he said. “The one thing.”

“Hey,” she said. Her blue eyes were understanding. “You couldn’t have done anything differently.”

And yet again, they both knew that was a lie. Beau held a curled fist against his lips for a moment, as he tried to swallow down the lump of emotion in his throat.

“She’s gotta be so scared, Jenny,” he said. His eyes stung, but he tried to blink the unshed tears from his eyes. It wasn’t working.

“Both of them,” he said. “They’ve gotta be terrified. And every minute we waste chasing our tails just gives that twisted son a bitch a chance to do something to them—”

Jenny grabbed his arm to steady him. “I still think he’s keeping them alive for leverage.”

“Well, I hope you’re right, because there’s nothing stopping him from making an example from one of them,” he said.

But the moment it escaped his lips, he wished he hadn’t uttered the thought out loud. It was too much.

He felt like a failure of a father. That was already destroying him from the inside out. And though he’d vowed to himself otherwise, you got dragged into this too.

You’d already been through the wringer enough. Beau hadn’t even checked in on you in damn near a week since he left your apartment the last time.

Now, you’d been taken by the very same man who murdered your friend Mary. Beau hadn’t had the chance to tell you…

He hadn’t been able to tell you a lot of things.

And maybe, he’d never get the chance.

The pickup truck Buck stole had a small trailer attached, convenient for stuffing you and Emily in, along with the corpse he’d made of the truck’s owner.

On the long and bumpy ride down the road, you’d been able to search the dead man’s jeans and found a small pocketknife. You pressed a small button to click the blade open. You showed it to Emily, and then tried to cut her bonds.

You only got halfway through when the truck and trailer stopped. Moments later, you smelled gas. Buck was probably stopping for a refill on the pickup truck. You closed the knife and hid it in your hands. That instinct turned out to be a good one, because Buck slid the trailer door open.

You and Emily winced as the bright morning sun hit your bleary eyes. Not only had you not slept all night, but you’d gotten used to the perpetual darkness of the trailer.

“You girls behaving yourselves back here?” Buck asked.

You and Emily stayed quiet, but fearful. He stepped into the trailer to lower your taped gag, and then the girl’s. He uncapped a water bottle to give her some. It was a strangely humane thing to do, you thought.

But then you realized that he just didn’t want you two to pass out of dehydration. He was trying to keep you alive long enough to use you as bargaining chips.

“My dad’s going to find you,” Emily said, staring up at your captor. Buck chuckled at her cheek.

“You want water or not?” he asked.

“And when he does, he’s gonna kill you,” she said. Buck rolled his eyes and gave her a few sips of water. He offered the bottle to you next.

Instead of drinking, you used his distraction and proximity to pop open the pocketknife and jab it at his face. He pulled back fast, but you managed to sink the three-inch little blade into his neck. Buck backhanded you so hard, it made the side of your face crack against the back of the trailer.

Emily screamed and tried to catch you when you accidentally fell on her shoulder. When you recovered after a bit, blinking the black splotches out of your vision, Buck punched at the spot right above your heads and made you both flinch. By then, he’d taken the little knife out of his neck, even though it made a new wound ooze blood down his shirt.

“Forgot to check his pockets,” he gritted out. His anger then bled away, into a dark chuckle. “Gettin’ a little rusty.”

He poured out the rest of the water over your boots, but he didn’t make any further threats. At least, not physically. He stepped away and began to exit the trailer.

“Next time it’ll be gasoline and a lighter,” he warned. “Now both of you, shut the fuck up.”

Then he closed the door, casting you and Emily into darkness once again.

“You okay?” Emily whispered. You could barely make out her face in the dim light, coming from the smallest crack in the trailer door. You rolled your head her way so you could give her a smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied. Truthfully, your head was ringing and aching at the same time. Buck had knocked you out for a few seconds there. Plus, you were exhausted, and hungry, and parched.

“At least the gags are off,” she said. You nodded, letting out a sigh. You welcomed her to rest on your shoulder and tucked her wrapped hands under yours.

“We’ve just gotta keep holding out,” you said. “I’m sure your dad is on the way.”

Emily nodded in agreement. She believed every word of what she’d told Buck. She just hoped it was sooner rather than later.

It was much, much later.

Still, you and Emily were no better off. Actually, you were pretty sure this was worse.

Buck had driven you deep into the woods, then forced you to walk what felt like another half-mile until you reached a dusty old shack. He’d unlocked it and forced you both inside, kneeling in the dirt and dead leaves. Along with the duct tape already around your wrists, he’d tied you both up with ropes around the metal hooks hanging from the short roof.

Even with the gags off, it was hard to breathe in the hot, stuffy woodshed. It felt similar to being buried in a box and left to rot.

You weren’t sure how many hours it had been, but the sun was slowly inching by. If you had to guess, it was around mid-afternoon. You were sweating down your neck and back, now uncomfortable while kneeling in the jeans you were wearing. And sometimes, your vision started to blur in and out.

By now you were beyond hunger. Dying of thirst? Quite possibly.

“How’re you doing?” you asked Emily. She nodded, but she didn’t have much energy to talk either.

So instead, you tried to twist your wrists out of the rope. Very quickly you gave yourself burns, however. Buck had tied your bonds so very tight, not to mention the duct tape underneath.

What a fucking asshole, you thought. He could’ve at least left a bottle of water. Or some protein bars.

“How are they supposed to find us out here?” Emily asked. Her voice was small and coarse with exhaustion. You nudged her knee in comfort.

“The police will get it out of Buck, I’m sure,” you said. “Even if Beau can’t, damn certain Jenny will.”

You gave her a smile. Emily tried to smile back, but she didn’t quite make it there.

“God, I’m so thirsty,” she coughed.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “All we can do is keep trying to get loose.”

You both tried twisting out of the ropes for a while, but it was no use. You were just going to bruise or cut your wrists further through the tape.

You knew that you and Emily had been in the woods for hours at this point, somewhere in the middle of the mountains. You tried not think about how unlikely it would be that someone actually heard you, let alone found you.

You knew you were the adult in this situation. You had to keep it together for the girl beside you, but after a while, a feeling of desperation and despair rose up again in your chest, no matter how hard you fought it all.

Tears welled up in your eyes, though you tried to breathe through it. Emily nudged your arm this time, giving you a comforting look.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she whispered. “I know Dad’s coming for us.”

Your lip wobbled, but you nodded and sucked in a breath. If she could be strong, then you could too…

And that was when you started to hear voices. You knew they weren’t just in your head, because Emily perked up too. You both called out the best you could to whoever was out there.

You squinted watery eyes when the door to the shed finally slid open.

Beau tested the limitations of Jenny’s SUV on his way out from the woods, and then back into them. 

At the very least, Buck was dead. 

Sunny had shot him—before they had gotten a location on you and Emily. Beau had been about to have a serious breakdown before Cassie called him. 

“They found them,” he’d told Jenny, with red and shining eyes. 

In another five miles, they reached the old cabin. Cassie had said there was a woodshed attached on the south side. Beau tore out of the car and sprinted up a hill, through a patch of dense trees, until he found the cabin and the shed. 

Cassie and Cormack were talking to someone just out of Beau’s eyeline, but his gaze focused on his daughter. The moment Emily saw him, she brightened and ran to him. He met her in the middle, grabbing her tight and secure in his arms.

His tears burned in his eyes and fell as he held her, comforted her, rubbing her back. She held onto him just as tightly.

He struggled and failed to keep himself together. Relief wasn’t even the word for how he felt; it was beyond words.

And it was almost unreal to be able to hold his daughter and see that she didn’t look hurt, just shaken.

“I’ve gotcha, sweetheart,” he said. “God, I’ve got you.”

Letting out the deepest breath, Beau’s gaze ventured past his daughter and up ahead. There he found you, being supported by Cassie up the hill. Beau’s eyes widened.

You were rubbing your wrists. They looked raw. Your eyes were also red and watery when they met his. Your breath seemed to catch as well.

Your name fell from Beau’s lips, his voice breaking. Emily looked up at her dad and had to smile. She even made room for you when you came up on his other side. Beau still kept his daughter tucked against him, but he reached for you as well and brought you into his embrace.

He felt your body shaking with quiet, wracking sobs. His heart broke for it, but he soothed a hand over your knotted hair and down your back.

“Shh, it’s okay now,” he whispered in your ear. His voice was choked with emotion. “I’ve got you, darlin’."

Never gonna let you go again, he thought.

You nodded, sniffling, but you kept your face buried against his chest.

Eventually, you lifted your head to meet his kind, if tearful eyes. He was a mess, and so were you. He was right though; you knew that it was all right now, as long as he was here.

You looked over at Emily, who was still hanging onto her father. You touched her shoulder.

“You okay?” you asked through tears. She nodded back at you with a smile.

“Good,” Beau said. “Let’s get you two home.”

You realized then that you were clinging to him like…like he was yours. 

“Oh,” you uttered, releasing his shirt. “I‘m sorry.” 

Beau’s eyes widened at the way you pulled away from him, unconsciously lowering your gaze. He frowned, and he pressed a gentle hand to your cheek, so you’d look at him again. 

“Don’t you do that,” he said, his voice still a bit unsteady.

Almost every cell in his body said to pull you back in. To sink his fingers in your hair, and to kiss you.

But he noticed Jenny, Cassie, Cormack, and even his daughter watching with some kind of smile on their faces. You stared up at him, teary eyed and waiting.

Beau cleared his throat.

He hesitated a bit too long, warring with himself all the while. So he just stroked your cheek and guided you, along with his daughter to the car.

You and Emily were going home.

AN: 🫣 Lol please don't hate me for the little tease at the end there. But how did you like how all the action and drama of the kidnapping unfolded?

Don't think this is the finale though. We've still got some drama and fun things to come. (Also, I think it's funny how this next particular chapter is going to post on my birthday lol.)

Next Time:

“I’m the one who needs you to forgive me,” he said, gently squeezing your arm. “I promised myself I would keep you safe, that I wouldn’t drag you into this mess. And I couldn’t keep my end of the deal.”

“Stop that,” you said. You grabbed the front of his shirt. “How many times do I have to say it’s not your fault before you get it in your stubborn head?”

It came out a bit snappish, but the moment your eyes met his, you both seemed to realize where your passions had led you. Just inches away from one another.

“Maybe one more time,” Beau said, in a quieter, but no less heady voice. There was a hint of humor in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile back.

You released his shirt and instead, took his face in your hands.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 8

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[because-evans]

4x07 “there goes the neighborhood” has Everything. michael and bobby spy on a guy through a telescope and find out he’s running an illegal underground surgery business. buck goes on a date with veronica who hates him and then finds out she’s his neighbor. eddie shoots a turkey w a net gun to capture it.

[keerysfreckles]

stay here - mike schmidt

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns (no movie spoilers bc i haven't seen it yet im just obsessed with mike) fluff! fluff! fluff! like one makeout scene but thats it

enjoy!

to say babysitting michael schmidt's little sister, abby, was easy would be a lie. mike called you earlier that day, right before his shift started, and asked if you could look over abby until he got home. at the end of the call he mentioned his hours were shorter, and earlier than normal, so he wouldn't be home too late.

it was currently eleven pm. abby's supposed to be in bed by ten-thirty, and nothing was working. y/n tried calming her down with a disney movie. she even colored with her in her makeshift fort in her room. but nothing worked, she was as hyper as ever.

"abby, please! we both know you're going to be tired tomorrow and you have school," y/n pleads.

"but i'm not tired," abby groans, rolling over dramatically on the couch.

"you know what? fine. i'll just tell mike you weren't listening to me," y/n sends abby an evil smile. abby perks up, and sits up to lean on the arm of the couch to look at y/n.

"no! no no no! he said if i was good all week he'd buy me something from the store."

y/n crosses her arms and leans against the hallway wall, opposite of the couch. "looks like you're going to have to listen to me afterall."

"but i'm still not tired," abby groans again, but walks over towards y/n.

y/n looked down at the girl in front of her. she saw the small bags under her eyes, and noticed her eyes kept closing every so often.

an idea popped into y/n's head, "why don't you go lay down, and i'll be in in ten minutes, yeah?"

abby nodded, confused by the request, but still nodded nonetheless and walked down the hallway and towards her room. y/n watched for a moment before abby was fully inside her room. she knew abby was most likely to fall asleep once her head hit the pillow. now she only had to kill two hours until mike would be home.

y/n and mike have known each other for three years. y/n moved into the one story house that was unoccupied in mike's neighborhood. the town wasn't used to newcomers, so of course y/n was the talk of the town for her first two weeks there.

it wasn't until a month later when y/n was on her morning run on a saturday, and had bumped into michael. she was instantly confused when she noticed he was in his work uniform, and on the way back to his house. the two made light conversation, and ended up at y/n's that night for a movie marathon.

about a month after that, mike knocked on y/n's front door, and properly asked her if she wanted to go on a date with him. of course the girl agreed, and that was the first date of many for the couple.

which leaves y/n in the position she's in - babysitting abby.

when mike and y/n officially started dating abby interrogated the girl. asking her a bunch of questions, some more personal than others, which mike quickly interjected. abby gave mike the idea of having y/n watch over her, instead of having to pay random strangers. mike obviously agreed.

y/n settled herself on the couch and put on a random horror movie that was on tv. she couldn't even get past the opening as her eyes closed and her body went limp from tiredness.

she grabbed the blanket at the other end of the couch before fully letting sleep embrace her.

the only time y/n woke up was when she heard the doorknob rattling. she turned slightly, to look over the back of the couch, and saw her boyfriend walking through the doorway.

"shit, were you sleeping?" mike asked, taking off his jacket and throwing it by the front door.

y/n sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, "yeah, but i can go. abby's asleep so i did my job pretty well," she chuckles.

"thank you again. and you know you can stay babe, i don't mind the comapny," michael smiles.

y/n couldn't help but notice how on edge mike looked as soon as he walked inside.

"are you okay?" she asks softly, still sitting on the couch.

mike nods as he sits down beside her, "yeah, just a long night." he leans over and kisses her cheek, causing y/n's cheeks to turn pink.

"do you want to talk about it?" y/n moves her leg to rest her chin on her knee, as mike's eyes glaze over the tv screen before turning fully towards his girlfriend.

"william was just on my ass before my shift, and vanessa had so much energy tonight, i just couldn't handle it. and it felt like time was going so slow tonight," mike's voice was quiet. y/n could tell he had a rough night as he rubbed his eyes.

y/n leans forward and turns off the tv, making mike slightly confused. "is there anything i can do to cheer you up?" y/n stands in front of mike and holds her hands out. he immediately takes her hands in his as he stands with her. mike leans forward and kisses y/n's forehead.

"can you just stay here tonight?" mike's voice almost seems desperate, as if y/n's presence was the only thing keeping him going right now.

y/n nods, "i'll always stay if you ask me to," she smiles as mike closes his eyes and rests his forehead against hers.

"was abby okay tonight?" mike asked, pulling away, but still keeping their hands connected.

"she was good, until trying to get her to go to bed. but you didn't hear that from me," this caused mike to let out a small laugh.

the couple, with one of their hands linked with each other's, went down the hallway. mike stopped y/n and opened abby's bedroom door quietly. y/n stood beside mike and held onto his arm with her free hand, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

the pair were met with abby sleeping under her blanket. small snores escaped her lips. y/n leaned up and kissed mike's jaw, before whispering, "c'mon, i know you need sleep just as much as she does."

y/n pulls mike into his room, which was at this point their shared room. mike had two drawers of his dresser specifically for y/n, vice verse in y/n's room. mike stepped into the bathroom and they both got ready for the night, in the most comfortable clothes they own.

y/n was already laying down under the sheets once mike came out of the bathroom. even laying there, he thought y/n looked so effortlessly beautiful.

"why are you staring at me like that?" y/n asks as she watches mike slide into the bed next to her.

"what? i can't stare at my pretty girl?" mike leans forward and kisses y/n on the lips, as he brings his left hand to her cheek. he rolls over, so his right arm is on the mattress, as he hovers over y/n. her hands move to his waist, slowing moving to his lower back.

their lips molded with one another's, and y/n could almost sense the stress leaving mike's body.

mike barely pulled away, leaving little to no space in between the two, "i love you so much."

y/n smiled, "i love you too."

she leaned up to kiss him once more, and mike playfully rolled his eyes while moving to lay down beside the girl. mike loved falling asleep while holding onto y/n's waist, because he knew she was safe.

[princesskaulitz]

Can you do Bill fluff? ( Fem reader please!) I don't mind the era!

pillow fort

✮ bill kaulitz fluff

✮ bill x fem! reader, fluff, 2005 bill

✮ conclusion: you’re his new neighbor and he really likes you. (i didn’t proofread but i don’t think there’s many errors anyways)

✮ A/N: tysm for requesting 🥰 I hope you guys like this. this is my first long fluff so i really hope it’s not ass.

you’re the new girl in bill’s neighborhood. he lives right across the street from you. his mom and your mom became friends really quickly when his mom brought over some desserts as a welcome gift to your family. his mom and your mom got to talking and found they actually have a lot in common with one another and they wanted the twins and you to meet.

when you first met the twins, you thought bill was adorable. he had such a contagious smile and a soothing voice. tom was really chill and funny.

bill thought you were beautiful and he was super shy with you. tom could tell that bill was attracted to you, he just hoped that his shy brother would actually make a move on you.

your moms decided to go on a mall trip that weekend and offered you and the twins to go.

you sat in the backseat of the car between them. bill loved the close proximity. the way your thigh was touching his. sure there was plenty of room for him to move his thigh but he didn’t want to. he also loved the way he could smell your perfume and your shampoo. you looked over at him and admired him. you loved his makeup, his eyebrow piercing, his nose, his lips, his jawline. he could feel your eyes on him and he tried not to blush.

throughout this mall trip, tom was the one doing all the talking and he was desperately trying to get bill close to you. growing up, he’s always watched bill wait for girls to make the first move, being too shy but he wanted bill to be the one to do it this time. whenever your back was turned, tom would push bill closer to you, receiving a warning look from bill each time.

at this point, tom figured the best thing to do would be to do just disappear unnoticed, leaving you and bill alone.

bill tuned around and noticed tom was gone. “where is tom?” he asked. you stopped and looked around “hm… i don’t know. maybe he went to the bathroom?” you replied. bill tried to text tom, only receiving a “just talk to her, learn to loosen up” in response. “damn it” bill cursed under his breath. bill wanted to burst. how could tom just leave him in the dust like this? without tom, he worried he’d make things awkward.

but that wasn’t what happened at all. you guys went into stores together and learned what kinds of things each other liked, what you guys had in common and this is what loosened him up a little and you guys clicked almost instantly. he was helping you pick out clothes and you two wound up playing that one game where one person walks along the clothing racks, running their hand along the clothes and when the other person says stop, that’s the piece of clothing the person has to try on and you’d do that for the whole outfit.

you dared bill to do it in the women’s clothing and he wound up in a skirt, a blouse that looked like something an old lady would wear to church and a sun hat. you both giggled and laughed and he was too embarrassed to come out of the dressing room. he dared you to do the same thing in the men’s clothing and you wound up in some tan khaki shorts that were like baggy jeans on you, a pain white t-shirt and a leather jacket that looked like the one michael jackson wore in his thriller music video.

after that, you two went and got ice cream and reviewed the ridiculous pictures you took of each other in your stupid outfits.

you eventually joined back with tom and your mom’s. you and bill were in your own world together, just yapping, never seeming to shut up, just when tom thought you two would finally shut up, bill opened his mouth again, opening discussion of some other random topic like music or food. he wasn’t annoyed though. he just smiled.

by the time you two got home, you didn’t want to depart from each other. you guys asked and your mom let you and bill have a sleepover. you guys stayed in the living room and made a pillow fort out of the couch cushions and throw blankets, of course while hitting each other with pillows and cussing playfully at each other, even throwing snacks at each other, bill laughed when he smacked you in the forehead with a twizler. you jumped on bill, wrapping a blanket around him and it sent you both plummeting to the floor with laugher. he blushed at the way your arms wrapped around him and how you landed on him.

all your fun and games were ruined however by your mom telling you both it was time to quiet and wind down, telling you guys to clean up your food mess, saying you and bill had it looking like “toddler lunch time at a daycare.”

you guys turned off all the lights and crawled into your pillow fort, you used your old pillow pet that projected stars for light.

bill and you sat in silence for a moment as you looked up at the make shift stars.

“so you don’t have a boyfriend right?”

“no. why do you ask?”

“just wondering… i think you’re super cute and i’d be disappointed if you had a boyfriend.”

you smiled and blushed. bill turned to you, propping himself up on his arm, a hint of a mischievous smile playing on his soft lips.

“have you ever kissed a boy?”

you were embarrassed to admit it “….no”

bill’s smile widened. “do you know how?”

“well… i’m not sure.”

“…want me to teach you?” he absolutely thought he was the shit right now. tom would be so proud of him right now.

you smiled. “yeah… teach me some tricks.”

his shy blush creeped up his cheeks again. he could try and be as bold and sassy as he wanted to but he’ll always be a shy, soft boy at heart and though his demeanor was bold, his lips and touch were gentle. his hand rested on the side of your face as his lips moved in sync with yours.

you were stunned to feel his tongue sneak into your mouth. you made out for what felt like forever, until your tongues were sore and your lips were numb, your tongue toyed with his tongue piercing, his hand gently tangled in your hair before it traveled along your shoulder, down your arm, gently squeezing it. you pulled away from each other but your gaze on each other’s eyes didn’t pull away. “wow” bill breathed out, a pink blush on his pale cheeks.

“actually…. i do have a boyfriend”

bills face faltered. “what?”

“you’re my boyfriend”

he punched you on the arm. “ow!”

“don’t do that, i thought i was going to shit my stomach out.”

“don’t punch me you punk!” you started punching him back, earning laughs from him as he fought back. he pinned you down and started tickling you, you screamed and thrashed around, ruining your guys pillow fort.

you both wound up just sleeping on top of the pile of pillows and blankets, cuddling. he spooned you, his face buried in your hair, your legs tangled together, his breath on the back of your ear while you held his hand close to your chest.

he couldn’t wait to talk tom’s ear off about all this.

[docgold13]

Heroes & Villains The DC Animated Universe - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

Goons of Gotham

There was no shortage of goon, miscreants and scoundrels in Gotham City, far too many to list individually in this project.  That said, here are several of the more prominent goons that batman has had to contend with throughout the years.

Germs and Bell

A pair of neurotic goons in the employ of Roland Daggat, Germs and Bell handled the illegal dirty work that allowed Daggat to conduct his illegal affairs while keeping his hands clean and maintaining plausible deniability.  Unsurprisingly, this did not work out well for the pair of ne’er-do-wells and both ended up defeated and apprehended by the Dark Knight.  

Actor Ed Bagley Jr. provided the voice for Germs while actor Scott Valentine voiced Bell.  The cads first appeared in the fourth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Feat of Clay Part One.’    

Carlton Duquesne 

A renown mobster in Gotham City, Carlton Duquesne ran highly successful protection rackets for The Penguin. Duquesne teamed up with the Penguin and Rupert Thorne in a potentially lucrative scheme to sell illegal weapons to the war torn nation of Kaznia.  The operation was taken down by the mysterious Batwoman and Duquesne and his coconspirators were sentenced to prison.

Actor Kevin Michael Richardson provided the voice for Carlton Duquesne with the character appearing in the animated feature, Batman: Mystery of The Batwoman.  

Ma Mayhem

The villainous Ma Mayhem was an old-fashioned criminal in the futuristic Gotham City. With her two sons in tow, Ma Mayhem committed several robberies that eventually led to her running afoul of Batman (Terry McGinnis).  Although Batman initially struggled in dealing with the villains, the hero eventually prevailed and Mayhem and her two boys were captured and incarcerated.

Actress Kathleen Freeman provided the voice for Ma Mayhem with the matriarchal menace  first appearing in the nineteenth episode of the second season of Batman Beyond, ‘The Egg Baby.’  

Captain Clown

Not much is known about Captain Clown, other than it was absolutely terrifying.  It was a powerful android of unknown origins that The Joker had obtained and dressed up as a sea-faring clown.  The android was programed to follow The Joker’s instruction and aided the Clown Prince of Crime in his scheme to use a garbage barge to embank all of Gotham with his toxic laughing gas.  

It was quite difficult for Batman to defeat Captain Clown, only succeeding when he was able to trap the android in an industrial car crusher that compacted it into a cube of metal and wires.  Distraught over his robotic minion’s demise, The Joker exclaimed ‘You’ve killed Captain Clown!’

The frightening android appeared in the fifteenth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘The Last Laugh.’  

Armory

A former Special Forces operative, Jim Tate later acquired advanced degrees in electronics and engineering, with which he made an impressive career as a small arms weapons designer.  After he was fired from Wayne/Powers, Tate became desperate to maintain his tony lifestyle.  Utilizing his training and expertise in experimental weaponry, he became the villainous Armory yet was ultimately taken down by Batman.  

Actor Dorian Harewood provided the voice for the Jim Tate with the character first appearing in the tenth episode of the first season of Batman Beyond, ‘Spellbound.’ 

Nitro

An explosives expert and arsonist, ‘Nitro’ Nelson took great glee in blowing things up.  He was hired by Roland Daggett to set off a series of bombs that would level the Park Row neighborhood of Gotham.  Actor David L. Lander provided the voice for Nitro, with the villain appearing in the twelve episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Appointment in Crime Alley.’  

Golem

Nelson Nash was a student at Hamilton High School who was frequently bullied by a fellow student.  Pushed too far, Nelson decided to get his revenge by stealing a Galvanic Lifter Machine so to destroy his tormentor’s car.  This Galvanic Lifter Machine (nicknamed a ‘golem’) was an enormous robotic loading device with a roughly humanoid shape.  The machine was operated by way of a neural-syncing headband that enabled the operator to control it through mental command.  

After destroying the car, Nelson used the Golem to menace another classmate he had a crush on.  At this point Batman interceded and debilitated the Golem unit with an electrified battarang that caused it to short circuit and shut down.  The feedback into the neural headband caused Nelson to be shocked into unconsciousness.  When he awakened, however, he found that had somehow cultivated psychic powers that enabled him to control the Golem even without the rural headband.  

Actor Seth Green provided the voice for Nelson Nash with the young villain and his robotic companion first appearing in the fourth episode of the first season of Batman Beyond, ‘Golem.’  

Garth

An early subject outcome of Doctor Dorian's experiments, Garth was a gorilla with enhanced intelligence and other rudimentary human-like capabilities.  Not as refined a subject as Dorian’s later creation, Tygrus, Garth did prove useful as muscle to execute the scientist’s schemes.  

Actor Jim Cummings provided the voice for Garth, with the brute appearing in the thirtieth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Tyger Tyger.’ 

Ian Peak

An ambitious and unscrupulous television journalist, Ian Peak was the host of ‘The Inside Peak,’ an infamous tabloid newscast that dished the dirt on the influential people of Gotham City.  After stealing an experimental intangibility belt from a scientist, Peak used the belt to garner all manner of secrets regarding the luminaries of Gotham.  He even discovered Bruce Wayne’s secret identity as Batman.  Unfortunately for Peak, however, the belt ultimately caused his body to lose structural integrity and he perished when his body defended down into the earth’s core.  

Actor Michael McKean provided the voice for Ian Peak with the villainous paparazzi appearing in the eighteenth episode of the second season of Batman Beyond ‘Sneak Peak.’   

Doctor Belson

Gregory Belson was a transplant surgeon who had previously worked in the  cryogenics laboratories at GothCorp where he was a colleague of Victor Fries.  A series of poorly thought through investments resulted in Belson’s finding himself in a dire financial situation.  Mr. Freeze was able to leverage Belson’s debts as a means of getting him to conspire with him in a dastardly plot.  This resulted in the craven Belson meeting a fiery end.  

Actor George Dzundza provided the voice for Dr. Belson, appearing in the animated feature, Batman & Mr. Freeze: Sub-Zero.

The Repeller

Dr. Suzuki was a researcher working in the medicinal technologies department of Wayne-Powers.  He and his colleague developed the ISO field generator rings which could generate a magnetic forcefield around a living being.  Suzuki stole the device and used it to commit crimes as the villains ‘Repeller.’  Batman was ultimately able to surmise the Repeller’s true identity and take the villain down.  

Actor Gedde Watanabe provided the voice for the Repeller with the villain appearing in the second episode of the third season of Batman Beyond, ‘Untouchable.’   

Vincent Starkey

Also known as ‘The Shark’ Vincent Starkey was a mobster and drug dealer who had previously been put away by Detective Harvey Bullock.  When Bullock was receiving death threats, he was certain that the recently paroled Starkey was behind them.  Aided by Batman, The Shark was taken down as he was starting up a new narcotics racket.  Although it turned out that it was actually Bullock’s landlord who was behind the death threats.  

Actor Gregg Berger provided the voice for Vincent Starkey with the villain first appearing in the fourth episode of the fourth season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘A Bullet for Bullock.’  

Falseface

The mysterious mercenary known only as Falseface possessed the ability to shape the contours of his face so to imitate any man of his size and stature. The villain was hired by the terrorist organization known as Kobra to smuggle a deadly virus into Gotham.  The plot was thwarted by the combined efforts of Batman and Stalker.

Actor Townsend Coleman provided the voice for Falseface with the villain appearing in the twenty-first episode of the second season of Batman Beyond, ‘Plague.’  

Montague Kane

Doctor Montague Kane traveled around the world publishing works on debunking the supernatural.  He showed a particular interest in magicians, revealing to the public the non-magical ways of how their illusions worked. 

The stage magician known as Zatanna was aware of Kane's reputation.  Revealing the secrets of stage magic was very much frown upon and Zatanna was eager to stump him with a trick he would not be able to figure out.  Although Zatanna was practiced in real magic, she relied on traditional sleight of hand in her stage act.  And she had created an illusion utilizing mirrors that would make it appear as though ten million dollars had disappeared from the Gotham Mint.

Kane was actually a cheat and a thief.  He learned how Zatanna was planning to pull off her trick and seized upon it as a means to steal this money for himself.   And Kane's expertise of illusions allowed him to rig the trick so that it would seem the money was there, while it was already stolen.

Kane and his lacks tried to make a quick getaway with the stolen money but were stopped by Batman and Zatanna.  Kane was delivered to the police and Zatanna was cleared of all charges.

Actor Michael York provided the voice of Montague Kane with he villainous skeptic appearing in the fiftieth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Zatanna.’

Bigtime

Charlie ‘Big Time’ Bigelow was an ambitious hoodlum and former friend of Terry McGinnis.  Three years prior to Terry becoming Batman, Charlie and Terry were arrested for burglary.  Charlie was eighteen and tried as an adult, resulting in a three year prison term; whereas Terry was still a minor and hence avoided jail time.  

Following his release, Charlie fell in was a gang of thieves who planned to steal an experimental chemical from a Wayne-Powers facility.  

The robbery went awry and Charlie ended up doused in the mutagenic chemical.  This caused him become physically deformed, yet also bestowed him super human strength and durability.  Going by the alias of ‘Big Time’ Charlie used his newfound powers to become a super villain and had multiple altercations with Batman.

Actors Stephen Baldwin and Clancy Brown provided the voice for the villain, first appearing in the fourth episode of the third season of Batman Beyond, ‘Big Time.’  

Mutro Botha

The killer known as Mutro Botha was a top lieutenant within the mysterious Society of Assassins.  When the Society found itself hunted by Curaré, Botha attempted to extort Batman into protecting him.  The plan did not work and Botha ended up killed by Curaré.  

The legendary Tim Curry provided the voice for Muto Botha, with the desperate criminal appearing in the fifteenth episode of the second season of Batman Beyond, ‘The Final Cut.’  

[stxrr-strxckk]

Feeling Cold?

Flufftober day 1-Carmen Berzatto x fem! reader

Listen to: Pretty Boy; The Neighborhood

Warnings: None!

A/N:Decided to start off my flufftober with my very own name twin<3 Carmy always holds a special place in my heart!

Summer was finally over, and no one was happier about that than Carmen Berzatto. Sure, the warm weather was nice, but there was something about fall in Chicago that was practically addicting, and after living in New York for so long he was more than happy to welcome the nostalgia of the season. Even if it meant bundling up in sweaters, scarves, and more layers than he could count.

Carmy couldn't help but smile as the fall air welcomed him home, walking down the steps of his shitty apartment. He had a thick wool coat draped over his basic white t-shirt and jeans, which really was a godsend in the 30 degree weather. He still felt the sting of the wind on his hands and face, and decided a hot cup of coffee would do him some good.

He walked into a small cafe a few blocks from the restaurant, figuring it wouldn't add too much time to his commute. He ordered and took a seat, burying his face in his phone as he waited for his name to be called.

"Carmen?"

He looked up, assuming his coffee was ready. Instead, he saw you. You had on an apron with the cafe's logo on it, and held his coffee in your hands. His eyes widened. He didn't know you worked here. If he did, then he probably wouldn't've come here.

"Fuck, chef?" you recognized him. "I didn't realize you went here-" you said, dazed.

"Yeah, uh, I don't- actually." he sniffed, avoiding eye contact. "I just- I needed some coffee, figured I'd try this place out. I didn't know you uh," he gestured to your apron. "worked here."

"Yeah, no, I do." you replied, an awkward silence falling over you too. Carmy hated running into his coworkers outside of work, always had. He felt so... Naked when it happened. Like the version of him at work was gone, and he was this vulnerable creature with no defenses. This must have been awkward for you too, he noted.

"Hey, uh, my shifts almost over, and my phone died, so I don't know how to get to the restaurant for open. Could I, maybe walk with you?" You felt weird just asking that. This was your boss. The guy who hired you a few months ago, and barely talked to you except for team meetings or if he needed you to do something. But you were desperate. (Plus, you wanted to get to know the guy better. He was so mysterious, something about it drew you in.)

Carmy was surprised by how forward you were. "Yeah, sure, that's- that's fine." He cringed at his stutter. In other circumstances, he would've most certainly said no. Ordered you an uber, written down directions, but today was... Different. And plus, it was you. Not Richie, or Fak, or Marcus. He'd never admit it, but he had a bit of a soft spot for you. So naive, the bright eyed and bushy tailed girl who was so eager to get a job at the Beef. He didn't know why, it was a second rate joint now that Michael was dead.

"Really?" Your eyes brightened, and Carmy swore he felt his cheeks flush. "Perfect, my shift ends in 5. Can you hang on a minute while I get changed?" He nodded, sitting back down as you hurried through the last few minutes of your shift and ran to the back.

He got up when he finally saw you step out from behind the counter. "Ready to go?" he asked, making note of your outfit. Graphic tee and baggy jeans. No jacket.

"Um," you patted your pockets, making sure you had your keys and wallet. "yup! Let's go, I'm not gonna be late today." As you strode out the door, Carmy couldn't help but chuckle. He followed after a second, coat bundled up tight against the wind.

"So, uh," Carmy said, breaking the silence a few minutes into your walk. "how long you been working at that cafe?"

"Pretty much my whole life," you shrugged. "I know the owners, they gave me the job in high school. It helped me pay for culinary school. I kept if even after I graduated, the job market was pretty slow anyways."

"So what made you wanna work at the beef, then?"

"Well, I don't see myself making overpriced lattes my whole life." you laughed, kicking a pebble down the street. "I wanna work in a real kitchen. And I always liked the beef, me 'n my friends used to get sandwiches there after school sometimes. What 'bout you, Carm?"

"Oh, uh, well my brother- he, he owned the place. But, he died. Killed himself a few months ago. Left me the place in his will."

"Oh." you trailed off. That got dark fast. "I'm sorry that happened."

Shit. He just ruined the conversation. "Yeah, uh, thanks." he trailed off again, not knowing what to say next. You didn't either, and suddenly the cold became a lot more noticeable. You shivered, teeth chattering as you tried to warm yourself up by rubbing your arms.

"You cold?" Carmy asked.

"No, I'm fine." you tried to shrug him off, but it took a whole lot of willpower not to reply with something snarky.

"You sure? 'Cus you look like you're fuckin' freezing."

"No really, I'm okay!" This was embarrassing. You totally forgot your coat, but there's no way you'd ask for Carmy's. That felt like overstepping.

Carmy sighed. You were stubborn, a lot like him. Clearly, you were cold. Who wouldn't be in 30 degrees? Quickly, he unbuttoned his coat and shrugged it off.

"What are you-" You started, but stopped when he draped his coat over your body, the heat of the fabric instantly melting all the cold away.

"There. Now you'll stop with all that fuckin' chattering." Carmy laughed, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

"Thanks."

The rest of the walk was filled with lively conversation, and once you arrived at the beef you hated to admit you were disappointed. Carmen held the door for you, glad the kitchen had working heaters as he stepped inside.

"Yo, cuz! What took so damn long?" Richie poked his head around a corner.

"None of your damn business Richie." he replied, throwing his now empty coffee away.

"Hey, Carm! Why's new girl wearing your coat?" Fak yelled, and all eyes turned to you. You felt heat creeping into your cheeks, and it wasn't just because of how warm it was in there.

"And Fak's hear too. Great." Carmy groaned. "Hey, here's an idea! Why don't we all get to fucking work instead of asking stupid ass questions!" He clapped his hands twice, trying to hurry everyone up. "Chop chop people, we open in 15!"

Just like that, the kitchen was alive. Everyone doing their job, but you couldn't help but look up at Carmen every few minutes. And you swear you caught him looking back at you. You hoped he'd come into the cafe more often. Maybe these morning walks would become part of your new routine.

A/N: Day 1 done! This isn't proofread chat, my bad. Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Please like, reblog, comment, and request! XX, Starr!

Wordcount:1248

[hypnogold]

Maple Heights 4: No escape

The door to the house creaked open as Tyler, Luke, and Michael stepped into the entryway, their black polos with yellow details catching the dim glow of the hallway lights. Their faces were obscured by gas masks, each breath producing a soft, eerie muffling sound as they repeated their chant in unison: “Join us… join us…”

Their fathers, Greg and Paul, stood at the far end of the hall, shocked to see their own sons transformed. Greg’s face was tight with fear, and Paul’s eyes were wide with disbelief as they watched the slow, methodical advance of their three sons.

“Michael, Luke, Tyler… what’s happened to you?” Greg whispered, his voice filled with desperation. But his words seemed to bounce off them, ignored as the brothers continued forward, their voices calm and hypnotic.

“Join us…” Tyler intoned softly through his mask, each word muffled but filled with purpose.

Realizing the danger, Paul grabbed Greg’s arm. “We have to get out of here!” Without waiting, they turned and sprinted down the hallway, heading for the back door.

As they reached it, Greg threw it open, only to be confronted by two other figures standing in the doorway—two young man in glossy black Fred Perry polo with yellow details, their faces hidden behind the same cold visor. His posture was still, his expression blank as he blocked their way.

“Join us…” the figure intoned, echoing the chant of the brothers.

Greg shut the door, his heart racing. “They’re everywhere,” he whispered in shock. “It’s like… they’re all in on it.”

“Upstairs,” Paul urged, steering his brother toward the staircase. “We’ll find a way out through the bedroom windows.”

The two fathers dashed up the stairs, the rhythmic chanting of “Join us… join us…” following them up, a haunting echo that filled every corner of the house. Tyler, Luke, and Michael advanced at a steady, controlled pace, the soft glow of their masks casting eerie shadows as they moved.

Once they reached the top floor, Paul and Greg ran into the nearest bedroom and locked the door. They shared a terrified glance, their breaths heavy and rapid.

“Why are they doing this?” Greg murmured, his voice filled with fear. “They’re acting like… like they’re not even our sons anymore.”

“Whatever’s happened to them, we need to get out of here,” Paul replied. He moved to the window, glancing down to make sure the coast was clear. Seeing no figures below, he opened it. “Let’s go. Climb down, and we’ll run to Daniel’s place.”

One by one, they lowered themselves out of the window, dropping to the ground below. Without another word, they sprinted across the lawn and down the street, aiming for Daniel’s house, hoping for a safe haven.

The rhythmic chant of “Join us…” echoed faintly in the distance, growing louder with each step, as if the entire neighborhood was filled with the same hypnotic call.

They reached Daniel’s house, breathless, and pounded on the door. Within moments, it opened, revealing Daniel standing in his pajamas, his face filled with confusion and concern.

“Paul? Greg? What’s going on?” Daniel asked, his eyes flicking between the two men, noticing their terrified expressions.

“Let us in, quickly!” Paul gasped, pulling Daniel inside and locking the door behind them. “It’s… it’s the boys. They’ve changed. They’re not… themselves anymore.”

Daniel’s brow furrowed. “Changed? What do you mean?”

Before they could explain, there was a loud knock at the door, and the chilling chant of “Join us… join us…” echoed through the walls. Daniel’s face paled as he looked toward the door, his expression shifting to one of horror.

“What… what is that?” he whispered, backing away from the door.

The door creaked open, revealing the three brothers standing in the doorway, their faces calm and expressionless behind their visors, their black polos shining under the dim lights. They stepped inside, their movements slow and deliberate, their voices blending into a single, rhythmic chant as they advanced.

“Join us… join us…”

Paul and Greg backed into the corner, their eyes wide with fear. But Daniel, unable to comprehend what was happening, took a step forward, trying to reason with them. “Tyler, Luke, Michael, stop this. Whatever’s going on, you don’t have to do this.”

But his words fell on deaf ears. The brothers moved forward, their hands reaching out as they surrounded Daniel. Tyler placed a firm hand on Daniel’s shoulder, and Michael pressed down on his other side, guiding him with calm precision.

“Join us,” they intoned softly, their voices a quiet command that seemed to slip past Daniel’s defenses.

Paul and Greg watched in horror as their brother, Daniel, began to sway under the influence of the chant. His face went blank, his eyes unfocused as the brothers guided him to his knees. They removed a sleek black visor from a pouch, slowly lowering it over Daniel’s eyes. The visor clicked into place, and with it, Daniel’s face shifted, adopting the same calm, distant expression as his nephews.

As the visor clicked into place over Daniel's eyes, a low, distorted hum filled his ears, followed by a voice—soft yet chillingly mechanical, each word dripping with a hypnotic pull.

"You are slipping now… sinking deeper… falling away from who you were…You will be robotized."

The words pulsed, each phrase drawing Daniel further into a fog, erasing his thoughts one by one. His mind, which had been teetering on the edge of resistance, now felt heavy, sinking into an eerie calm that spread like a warm haze.

"Your mind is quiet… empty… ready to obey," the voice continued, each word slowly unraveling his sense of self. "You do not need to think… thinking is tiring… thinking is gone."

Daniel’s thoughts faded into a dull, distant echo as the words took over, filling every corner of his mind with a blissful, mindless calm.

"You wear the polo now… proud and obedient," the voice droned, each syllable sinking into him like weights, locking him into this newfound purpose. "Let go… obey… there is nothing else."

A faint, faraway part of him realized his lips were parting into a slow, empty smile. The visor's faint glow pulsed with the words, sinking him deeper into this obedient haze, each beat aligning with his heart, binding him further.

"You are a vessel now… ready to serve… ready to be led."

The voice softened, but its pull grew stronger, each word seeping into him like a command he could no longer resist. He swayed slightly, feeling himself submit to the numbing warmth that spread through him. He was sinking, deeper and deeper, his mind dissolving into a comfortable, obedient fog.

"There is no you," the voice whispered, barely audible but all-consuming. "Only the command… only the uniform… wear it proud… think no more."

With those final words, Daniel’s thoughts fell silent, replaced by a serene, mindless obedience. His smile grew, calm and blank, as he sank fully into his new, obedient role.

“No… no, Daniel!” Greg shouted, rushing forward in a desperate attempt to save his brother. But before he could reach him, another figure stepped into view—Daniel’s son, Alex, who had come downstairs, alerted by the commotion.

Alex’s face was a mask of horror as he saw his father’s transformation. “Dad? What… what are they doing to you?” he asked, voice trembling.

Without hesitation, he moved toward his father, trying to pull the visor off. But Luke and Michael’s grip was firm, holding Daniel in place as he sank further under their control.

“Alex, stay back!” Paul warned, his voice thick with fear. “They’ll get you too!”

But Alex shook his head, his focus locked on his father. “I can’t just watch this!” He grabbed at the visor, trying to pull it free, but Tyler placed a firm hand on Alex’s shoulder, stopping him.

“Join us,” Tyler murmured, his voice muffled but clear.

The phrase seemed to sink into Alex’s mind, his struggle weakening as the words repeated around him, filling the air with their quiet, relentless command. His gaze grew unfocused, his resistance fading as he looked up at his cousins, his hands slowly dropping to his sides.

The brothers lowered another visor over Alex’s face, securing it with the same calm, precise movements. As the visor clicked into place, Alex’s face went blank, mirroring the serene, obedient expression of his father.

Paul and Greg stood paralyzed, horror filling their eyes as they watched both Daniel and Alex succumb, their family slipping away into the collective, one by one. The rhythmic chant of “Join us… join us…” filled the house, leaving no room for resistance, no space for escape.

Realizing the hopelessness of their situation, Paul and Greg took a step back, their backs pressed against the wall as they waited for the inevitable, the chant echoing in their minds, beckoning them to surrender.

“Join us…”

The hallway felt smaller with every step the fathers took. Greg and Paul found themselves backed against the cold, unyielding wall as Tyler, Luke, and Michael advanced, their calm, rhythmic chant echoing off the brick.

“Join us… join us…”

Paul, heart pounding, glanced desperately at Greg. “We can’t stay here. We have to keep moving.”

But before they could make a move, Tyler and Luke each took hold of their arms, their grips firm yet unnervingly calm. Michael stood behind, blocking any chance of escape. Greg struggled against Tyler’s grip, but it was as though his son’s strength had multiplied, each movement deliberate and unbreakable.

“Release us!” Greg shouted, twisting his arm, but Tyler’s grasp only tightened as his muffled voice repeated, “It’s time to join us.”

With synchronized movements, the three brothers guided their fathers out of the house and down the street, their steady march matching the robotic precision of their chants. As they moved, more figures dressed in identical black polos joined the procession, each one silent and masked, creating an unsettling parade through the darkened neighborhood.

The farther they walked, the more Greg and Paul’s surroundings became unfamiliar. They were led through side streets and narrow alleys until they approached the industrial edge of town. There, parked behind a row of abandoned warehouses, loomed a large, dark vehicle—a bus with metallic black paint, its windows heavily tinted. The quiet hum of machinery pulsed from within, a faint red glow emanating from its interior, hinting at the ominous purpose that awaited inside.

“Where are you taking us?” Paul demanded, trying to pull free, but Luke’s grip was unyielding, his face expressionless beneath the visor.

“To the ship,” Michael replied in a soft, detached voice. “There, you will understand. You will become part of the unity.”

As they approached the bus, a side door slid open, revealing rows of seats filled with other familiar faces from the neighborhood—all men, all silent, their faces blank beneath the visors that covered their eyes. They sat motionless, each dressed in the same glossy black Fred Perry polos with yellow details, the rubbery sheen reflecting the red glow from within.

The brothers guided Greg and Paul into the bus, securing them in seats near the front. Their movements were slow, methodical, as though they had rehearsed this many times before. Once seated, Greg tried to look around, recognizing faces among the other captives—men who, like him, had once been fathers, brothers, friends. Now, they sat in perfect stillness, their minds apparently lost to whatever force had taken control of them.

“Stay still,” Tyler murmured through his mask, fastening a metallic band across Greg’s chest, securing him to the seat.

Paul struggled as Luke did the same, but his movements were weak and ineffective against the relentless, calm efficiency of his son’s grip. “You don’t have to do this,” Paul pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. “You’re our sons. You don’t have to—”

But Michael’s voice cut through his words, calm and unfeeling. “We have found purpose. Soon, you will too.”

Once Greg and Paul were secured, the brothers took their seats near the front, each donning visors that matched those of the drones on board. The door slid shut with a soft hiss, and the bus hummed to life, beginning its journey to the “ship” that loomed on the outskirts of town.

The “Ship”

After what felt like an eternity, the bus finally pulled to a stop at a fenced lot near the edge of an industrial complex. The entire area was illuminated by harsh floodlights, casting long shadows across the open ground. At the center stood a massive, ominous structure—a large, metallic building, shaped almost like an angular, grounded spacecraft. The air around it hummed faintly, as if powered by an unseen force.

One by one, the drones on the bus rose from their seats, filing out in a controlled, robotic procession. As Greg and Paul were released from their restraints, they were herded down the aisle by the brothers, who guided them toward the entrance of the ship.

Inside, the walls were lined with rows of small, windowless chambers, each one barely large enough to contain a single person. Through the open doors, Greg could see other captives standing inside the chambers, visors lowered over their eyes, their bodies held in place by metallic restraints that glowed faintly with red light.

Greg and Paul exchanged a desperate look, a silent plea passing between them as they realized the fate that awaited them.

“Please,” Greg whispered, turning to Tyler. “Whatever this is, you don’t have to go through with it. Fight it. Break free.”

But Tyler only looked at him, his gaze calm and detached. “It’s too late for that. Soon, you’ll see.”

Michael and Luke guided them into neighboring chambers, the doors sliding shut with a quiet hiss. A faint light filled the room, and Greg felt his arms restrained by unseen forces as a metallic band closed around his forehead, holding his head in place. His pulse quickened as he watched a visor lower from the ceiling, moving slowly until it aligned with his eyes.

“No, no—please, not this,” Greg murmured, struggling against the restraints. But as the visor clicked into place, his vision filled with a pulsing spiral, yellow and black hues spinning in mesmerizing patterns. He felt his mind growing calm, his body relaxing despite his attempts to resist.

“Join us… join us…” came the faint chant through the speakers, the words slipping past his defenses and filling his thoughts, overriding everything else. His eyelids felt heavy, his mind clouded, and slowly, his resistance melted away.

In the neighboring chamber, Paul’s experience was no different. He felt the visor lowering over his face, his heart pounding as the spiral filled his vision. The rhythmic chant echoed in his ears, lulling him into a quiet trance as his thoughts faded, replaced by a calm, obedient clarity.

As the visor’s spiral pulsed, Paul’s expression softened, his breathing steadying as he surrendered to the influence surrounding him.

When the doors finally slid open, Greg and Paul stepped out of their chambers, their faces calm and blank, visors reflecting the red glow of the ship’s lights. Their glossy black polos with yellow details glistened as they joined the other drones, filing into a perfect line beside their transformed sons.

Tyler, Luke, and Michael watched with satisfaction as their fathers took their places, their postures straight, their expressions serene and obedient.

“Welcome,” Michael murmured, his voice calm and mechanical. “You’re part of us now.”

In perfect unison, Greg and Paul replied, “We are one.” Their voices were calm and steady, as if they had known their purpose all along.

The transformed family joined the ranks of drones, marching in synchronized steps as the ship’s door closed behind them. The hum of machinery grew louder as the ship prepared to embark on its next mission, expanding the reach of the collective to every corner of Maple Heights.

And as they moved forward, one chant united them all, an unbreakable bond shared by every drone:

“Join us… join us…”

[darlingshane]

Let it rip, Coach

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: Searching for a new sponsor for the soccer team you coach leads you to meet and quickly fall in love with Michael.

Content/Warnings: Friends to lovers, Fluff, Crack, Alcohol, Eating, Kissing.

Word Count: 3,2k

— You can read below or at AO3.

“Hey, Cousin!” Richie taps on the frame of Michael's office door. “There's a woman here to see you.”

“Oh? Is she a health inspector or something?” He swivels in his chair, putting a pen down on the desk.

“No. Though, if she’s looking to inspect something, I’d be the perfect specimen to study.”

“That hot?”

“Smokin’ hot. Total knockout. Banging body,” his track suited friend remarks frivolously. “But as usual, she didn't want to do anything with me, cause I'll never stand a chance against the great Mikey Bear.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself, Cousin. Girls love those baby blues. It's when you open your mouth what makes them run in the other direction,” Michael taunts. “What does she want? Did she ask for me specifically?”

“She didn’t mention your name exactly. She requested an audience with the proprietor of this fine establishment.”

“Wow, those are big words, Cousin.” Michael rises from his chair, adjusting the waistband of his jeans.

“Well, I'm a big guy… If you know what I mean.”

“Unfortunately, I do know what you mean.” Scoffing, Michael palms his friend's back and walks out of the office.

They both head out of the kitchen, and Richie points him to the table with the woman, you, who asked to talk to the owner of the sandwich joint.

As he rounds the counter, he counts four young girls sitting around the table with you, ready to dig into the food they just got served.

“Hi, I'm Michael, the owner of this place,” he gestures vaguely with one hand in the air. “What can I do for you, ladies?”

After introducing yourself and the four pre-teens that came with you, one of them being your niece, you explain to Michael that you're the coach of the girls' soccer team. The reason for your visit is that you’re searching for a new sponsor for the team after losing the one you had.

Michael listens closely as you add a little more information, telling him that grew up in this neighborhood, and thought of asking a few businesses of the North River area.

“I dunno, girls… I don't know the first thing about soccer,” he runs a palm over his beard and then pushes his hair back.

“That’s okay, you don't really need to. You'd only have to cover uniforms. Think about your name being on every jersey. And I promise to bring the whole team here after every game. Right girls?”

They all respond in unison positively with mouths full of food.

“See? They love your food already. Think about the publicity. The games are always packed, let me tell you. Women's leagues are booming right now.”

“I don’t doubt that. What's your team's name?”

“The comets,” one of the girls responds.

“That's a great name. Are you guys good?”

“The best,” your niece boasts.

They're actually pretty good. Most of them have been playing for a couple of years before you started coaching them, and the new additions are quickly catching up.

“Okay, let me think about it.”

Michael goes back into his office, crunches some numbers, and by the time you've finished your food he's made out his mind. He accepts your offer, and you exchange numbers to stay in contact.

Two days later, you return to the restaurant to finalize the details. You show him a handful of the designs the girls, and you came up with, and go over a list of print shops in the area to choose one that meets your needs. You type all the details in your phone and head up together to the shop.

It's surprising to see him so invested in just a few days. When you place the final order for the jerseys, he adds one more to the bulk in his size, so he can wear his own to support the team.

You text occasionally for updates, but in between you've found yourself texting back and forth casually talking about your day, the restaurant, your other job… Michael is easy to talk to and quite the charmer, you’ve realized. It has made you wonder at times if he’s hitting on you or not, especially face to face. He’s always flashing a smile, or an innocent wink when you leave, that utterly dismantles you in ways you never thought possible.

When the new jerseys arrive, you make sure Michael gets his. You deliver it personally to the restaurant one night after he’s closed shop.

Your new friendship is strangely familiar. Michael slips into your life as if he'd always belonged there. He has an open heart. A big, contagious laugh; and a sweet smile that could make what's left of the poles completely melt. He's easy on the eyes, too, regardless of what he says. Much as everyone else on the planet, he has his faults too and one of them is the self-deprecating jokes he makes about his appearance, which are completely unfounded. The sharp angles of his face might not be up to classic beauty standards, and that's what actually makes him stand out in the crowd.

You adore his passion about food and his business, and how much confidence oozes out of every pore of his body. It's really disarming. And despite the fact that he almost never shuts up, he's a great listener too when it’s your turn to share.

Quiet has settled after everyone has left the restaurant, all the lights are down except for the ones coming from the neon sign above the counter and the vending machine. He sits backwards on the chair across from yours and slides a beer along the table. You stay right there, swapping life stories, sap anecdotes, fun moments of your life, anything, and everything in between like two old friends hanging out.

A couple of hours go by like nothing, while the table collects empty bottles.

“Last one,” you pick up your third beer, hold it to your lips and take a long swig as the chef timidly nods at your statement.

“Can I ask you something?” his tone mellows from its usual volume.

“Shoot.”

“Would it be unprofessional to ask you out?”

“No, I don't think so,” the corners of your mouth curl up nervously as your nails try to remove the sticker on the glass of your beer. “We don't really work together.”

“That's right. Would you say yes if I asked you out, though?”

“Hm, maybe.”

“Don't give me — maybe. Yes or no only, sweetheart,” his head tilts to the side, trying to capture the truth behind your eyes in the faint neon lighting striking across your face.

“I guess I wouldn't mind if you did.”

“I guess — is not an answer either.”

You take a deep breath and let him hang for a second while you put a couple of thoughts together.

“Not everyone is as confident and decisive as you are, Berzatto. Some people need a little time to process things,” you pause to gather some insight. “And you already know that I like you and wouldn't be asking if I didn't. So yeah… If you asked, I'd say yes.”

“That's all I needed to hear,” a grin splits his face as he tilts his beer up to take a gulp.

“Sooo… are you going to ask me now?”

“Eh, not right now. I just needed to know,” he quips.

“Suit yourself, but don't wait too long,” you say casually, as if it didn’t care as much whether he asks you out or not. You do. And it’s a relief to find out that he likes you back and that he's open to pursue something more than a friendship. It's hard to click with people that fast, but with Michael, it has felt too easy. They say you find love in the most unexpected places. You definitely weren’t looking for it when you came into his joint just a few weeks ago, and now it’s hard to imagine your life without him.

When you pull your phone out of your pocket to look at the time, it's way later than you thought.

Michael walks you to the L, and before the train arrives, he asks you right on the platform if you'd like to have dinner with him sometime.

Obviously, you say yes.

As the train slips into the station, you lean in and kiss his cheek goodnight, letting your lips meet the edge of his beard. His mouth takes the form of a pleased grin, and as you step inside the car, he tucks his hands in his pockets and watches you occupy a seat by the window. You stare at him for a long moment behind the glass as the doors slide close until the train is set in motion.

Texting the next day, you set up your date for the following week on a day you’re both free.

Before that day comes, you have also a very important event on your schedule that is the first game of the season.

Though the chef initially wasn’t going to come, Michael decides to surprise you by showing up on that day.

“Hey, Coach,” you hear his lively voice from behind while the girls warm up on the field.

You turn your head to see him wearing his jersey, and a blue baseball cap set backwards that shows his hair sticking out behind his ears. It’s impossible to stop the corners of your mouth from pointing out automatically as he walks up to you.

“Hey, Chef. Didn't know you were coming.”

“Yeah, it was last minute. You made it sound so good, I wanted to see you in action.”

“What about the shop?”

“Left Richie in charge for a couple of hours.”

“Are you sure that was a good idea?”

He balances his head from side to side, “as long as he doesn't burn it, I think it'll be fine.”

“Well, I'm glad you came. You should take a seat before it's too late,” you gesture at the bleachers, almost packed.

“Yeah, I’ll leave you to it. Let it rip, Coach,” he winks at you, and takes a seat in one of the middle rows on the bleachers.

You still have a dopey smile plastered on your face when the game starts. On occasion, you glance over your shoulder to see him cheer and root for the girls when they have the ball. His enthusiasm, and voice, increases during the second half when the team dominates the game, earning their first victory of the season.

As promised, you take the whole team to The Beef for a celebratory meal afterward.

During Michael's absence, Richie has set up a few tables together to fit the full team, and while they eat their food you park your butt on a stool at the counter, so you can chat with Michael.

“I need to run something by you,” he's on the other side of the counter, propped on his forearms.

“What?”

“It's about our date. I was thinking that I could make you dinner instead of going to a restaurant.”

“Here?”

“No, we already spent too much time here. I thought maybe you could come over to my place, or I could go to yours and just… chill.”

“Chill, huh?” you lift a french fry from your plate and take a bite.

“Yeah, but not like that,” he bashfully scratches his neck. “It’d be just dinner with no strings or expectations. Maybe it’s unusual for a first date, but just wanna spend a nice time alone with you and cook something you’d love. Have a couple of ideas that you’d… but if you wanna do something else…”

You stare at him while he rambles. It's refreshing to see him nervous for once.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

“What if I had some expectations other than dinner?” you playfully raise an eyebrow.

“I guess I wouldn't be opposed to that.”

“You guess? That's not an answer,” you echo back his own words from when you gave him a similar response.

He presses his teeth on his bottom lip for a beat, “no, I wouldn't mind if you wanted to take it farther.”

“Which it's what you wanted all along,” you tease.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Coach. My intentions are just making you dinner. That's it. Anything that happens after, it's really up to you.”

“Say, Richie,” you call for his friend's attention as he comes out of the kitchen. “What would you think if a guy invited you for dinner at his house on a first date?”

“I’d say he’d only be interested in wetting his whistle. Why? Are you going on a date with this puto?” Richie claps Michael’s shoulder.

“Uh-huh.”

“Wow, you must be special. He hardly ever invites anyone to his place. Last time he did, it was-”

“Shut up, Cousin,” Michael cuts him off, annoyed by the fact that's actually true. It's been a long time since he's wanted to actually bring someone home that felt right.

“Like I said, I never stood a chance against Mikey Berzzato,” Richie nods at you and circles outside the counter to check on the tables.

“Aww, am I that special?” you wonder once Richie is out of hearing range.

His gaze falls to look at his hands, as he tentatively extends one to caress your fingertips with his,“I think you are really, really special.”

You stare at those fingers, brushing softly the inside of your hand, making your stomach flutter.

“Did it bother you that I involved Richie in this?”

“No, sweetheart. It didn't. Well… Maybe a little.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. It's just… I love Richie, but he knows a lot of stuff about me that could change your opinion about me, and I don't want you to get the wrong impression, you know?”

“Michael, I already got a pretty good impression of you. Especially after showing up like you did today. There's nothing he can say that would ruin that.”

He lets out a small snort, “give him time.”

“You know what? I'd love to have dinner at your place.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure.”

You don't have many rules when it comes to dating. Common sense and your gut are what guide you most of the time. When something feels muddy, you back up immediately. And when something feels good, nothing can stop you from pursuing that, you're off to the races. The latter hasn't happened that often, admittedly. Hopefully, this is one of those times.

In the short time you've known Michael, you've only gotten a deep sense of longing for him, growing eager every passing day. It's hard to ignore it anymore.

Following that desire, you dress up, do your hair, put some makeup on, and take the train to Michael's apartment with no hesitation. There is some natural anxiousness rumbling in your stomach, of course, but that doesn’t stop you from chasing that thrill.

When you knock on his door, Michael welcomes you with the most beautiful smile you've ever seen, splitting his freshly-groomed beard. He’s out of his usual work clothes and has chosen a casual outfit that consists of a dress black shirt, half unbuttoned, and a pair of jeans.

“Shall we?” he offers his hand, inviting you in. You take it and let him walk you inside.

As he closes the door, you take off your jacket, scanning every detail of the modest apartment. The lights are dimmed, and he's set up the dining table with two lit candles in red-tinted glasses, and a small centerpiece of flowers. There's light music playing on his phone that's hooked to a speaker system next to the TV. The delicious smell of the food incites your appetite as he moves your chair back, like a gentleman, so you can sit.

“Fancy,” you hum as you take your seat.

“Glad you like it, sweetheart.”

He then leaves for a moment to collect the food from the kitchen and returns with two plates filled with paella. As appetizing as it looks, it tastes vastly better. He really has absorbed a lot of information about you during those casual hang-outs. Not only knows how to please your stomach with Mediterranean food, but you're also granted the best conversationalist, as usual, he's a downright delight to be around.

For dessert, he keeps outdoing himself by bringing out a homemade tiramisu he made earlier. He serves one big serving on a plate, and lays it down in the middle of the table to share with you.

“Do you like it?”

“Hm, this is the best thing I've ever had in my mouth. You'll have to teach me how to make it someday,” you request, picking another spoonful. “Would you?”

“Sure.”

“I'm torn,” you say, enjoying the delectable alcohol-soaked bottom layer on your tongue.

“How so?”

“Because – I really want to kiss you right now for making all this, but I don’t think your mouth can’t top this.”

“You’ll have to try me,” he snorts, scooping his way through the other half of the tiramisu.

“Hm, we’ll see,” you grin. “You really outdid yourself here, Chef. You shouldn't have made something so delicious.”

“I'll take it down a notch next time.”

When dessert is over, you make a quick trip to the bathroom to empty your bladder while he puts the dishes away to wash later.

He has sat down on the couch when you come out, and you stop for a beat in the middle of the hallway before deciding to sit sideways right on his lap.

“Excuse me, Sir. Is this seat taken?” you ask right after plopping your ass on his thighs.

“It is, now,” scoffing, he links an arm around your waist. “Is it comfortable, ma'am?”

“Best seat in the house,” you can’t fight the smile taking over your lips.

“You're really something else, sweetheart,” he hushes oh so softly, as his free palm lands on your denim-clad leg.

“So are you,” your head leans forward, touching his forehead.

Biting your bottom lip, eyes locked, you both go silent for a long moment while you get used to feeling his hands on you, and vice versa. His thumb absentmindedly draws circles on your leg while you play with the hair of his beautiful beard.

“I think I wanna make out now,” you whisper.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

Drawing a breath, he brings one hand to frame your jaw, letting a thumb swipe across your lip slowly. Then, his tongue juts out to wet his lips, his face leans an inch closer to capture your mouth. Your stomach flutters and your skin buzzes at the firm grip of his hand on your hip while you taste the waters without fully diving into the deep end. You let your mouths bounce together and get used to that little intimacy you’ve just created with him. When you’re ready to fully dip further, he opens his mouth wider, and so do you, and before you realize it, you're devouring each other's faces. Firmly but sweetly, your tongues play together with ease as the tight seal of your lips shuts every change for air to escape or intrude. You close your eyes and free yourself of any thought, so you can enjoy this right here, right now, with him.

[fvists]

our cat son

mark rebellato era! artrick

✎ art finds a cat and, in typical art fashion, persuades him to co-parent the new baby (in secret).

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 877 wrds.

"Art?"

Silence.

"Art, where are you?"

More silence. 

"Art, seriously, where are you? I heard you."

Patrick stood with his hands on his hips, a quizzical look on his face as he examined he and Art's shared room. They'd been bunkmates at the Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy since they were twelve, and Art had never not greeted Patrick with a big smile and wave.

Patrick literally heard Art shuffling around the room before he opened the door, so where the hell was he? There weren't many places to hide, so Patrick guessed he'd just have to start looking.

"Art?" He called, checking under his bed.

"Artt??" He drawled, checking under Art's bed.

"Where the hell are you?" He groaned, searching the connected bathroom.

"Arthur Michael Donaldson!" He yelled, standing in the middle of the room.

A short gasp sounded from inside their shared closet, then a small 'Shit!'.

Patrick frowned and walked over to the closet, placing each of his hands on the handles. He paused for a second to listen to the sounds of quiet shuffling of a body and rustling of clothes, then he smirked and yanked the doors open.

"Gotcha!- The fuck?" 

Art was curled up in between all the clothes, cradling a tiny ball of fur in his arms. He smiled sheepishly up at Patrick, who looked absolutely bewildered.

"Hey, Pat..." He smiled, shielding the little creature under his arm.

"What is that?" Patrick asked, trying to get a better view from where he stood.

"Don't be mad."

"Art, what the hell is that?"

"Don't be mad!"

"Okay, just tell me what the fuck it is!"

Art shifted with a grunt, lifting himself out of the closet. He moved the furball into his hands and presented it to Patrick like it was Simba-- And it might as well have been Simba, considering the fact that Patrick was now staring right in the eyes of a little orange kitten.

"Are you serious?" Patrick laughed. Despite his shock and bewilderment, he reached a hand up to scratch the kitten on the head. "Where the fuck did you get this thing?"

The kittened meowed, as if to tell the story itself, before Art shushed it and placed his fingers over its little mouth.

"You know where the courtyard connects to the neighborhood out back? Well, I was out there with Jack and we heard a little meow, so we started running along the fence trying to find it. We found this little guy stuck under the fence, so we picked him up and bathed him and made sure he was okay...but I couldn't let him go," Art explained, mindlessly petting the cat's back.

Patrick shook his head, thoroughly amused by the story. "So...what, you're planning on keeping this kitten a secret from the teachers and coaches? What if you get caught?"

Art paused, as if he hadn't considered that.

"Well...I was hoping you'd help me take care of him? I was planning on keeping him until we go home for Thanksgiving, so I can give him to my mom and make sure she'll take care of him."

Patrick huffed. Thanksgiving was...three months away. They were going to have to take care of this kitten and keep him a secret during room checks for three months. It would be difficult...but Art was looking at him like his life would be over if he had to let this kitten go, and he'd never been good at saying no to Art's pretty blue eyes.

"Okay, so what are we gonna name our baby?" Patrick resigned.

"What?" Art said, confused.

"What are we naming it? If it's gonna be our..." He paused, leaning down to examine the cat's underside. "...son, for the next three months, he needs a name."

Art broke out into a big, goofy smile. His eyes lit up, and Patrick would've thought Art's greatest wish came true. 

"We can keep him?"

"Only if we can co-parent. I'm gonna get way attached to that thing in the next three months, and I don't think I'll be able to handle it if I don't get to see him ever again."

Art laughed and shrugged. "You're already invited to all my family events. I'll make sure our son attends all of them."

Patrick loved that look in Art's eyes. He always looked like he was having the best day ever, especially when he smiled. Art was beautiful.

"Good. So...what's his name?"

"Bartholomew?"

"No."

"Garfield?"

"..Because he's orange? No."

"Uh...Alan."

"No!"

"Buttons."

"No- Actually, that's...that's actually kinda cute. I like that."

Art smiled even bigger, if that was even possible, and offered Buttons to Patrick. Patrick handled him very gingerly and cradled him to his chest. Buttons meowed in protest for a moment, but he quickly resigned to the warmth.

Patrick always ran hotter than Art, so it made sense that Buttons liked being held by him. Patrick was the fire to Art's ice.

"I love our son," Patrick said wistfully.

"I love him, too," Art shrugged. "Not as much as I love you, though," He said jokingly.

Patrick made a fake gagging noise and carefully shifted Buttons over to one hand so he could punch Art's shoulder.

"You're gross."

"You love it."

[mxngldmxdnsss]

promiscuous - michael afton

like father like son

notes: forgot I had this in the vault el oh el

pairing - michael x reader

cw! virginity taking, impregnation, pregnancy kink, douchebag michael, panty stealing, alcohol usage

sexual content ahead : proceed with caution!

Michael who’s liked you since high-school. Forever wanting to take you out all over town, show you off to everyone, but never finding it in him to ask you out. Running into you a couple of months after graduation, finally able to talk to you.

Michael who is eager to get to know you, quickly becoming one of your most closest and trusted friends. Visiting on the weekends, having the privilege of laying on your bed as you make plans about what you two will do that week. He doesn’t even pay attention, half listening, half staring at your ass, you trust him enough to lounge around in your panties.

Michael who’s at first dirty thoughts become fantasies, he finds himself fucking into his fist, cum drenching his comforter. Wanting to ravage you, destroy your innocence. Biting his cheek when other boys whistle at you, but his anger doesn’t last long, you lean into him, wanting to disappear. He takes this chance, draping an arm over your shoulders, and suddenly all the cat calling and harassment you faced, is gone, only hearing soft murmurs, oblivious to the fact that people think you’re dating one of the biggest scumbags in the neighborhood.

Michael who steals yours panties, fighting back a sick chuckle when you tell him about how your panties seem to be disappearing all the time. Offering to give you money for more, insisting he take you to spoil yourself with some nice ones. You finally accept, wondering why all of the workers seem to avoid the two of you, but Michael steals away your attention.

Making you try on set after set, you don’t mind, in fact, you’re elated that your best friend is so insistent that you see what you like, or rather what he likes. Gasping at the price when he buys you five sets of lingerie, begging him to let you make it up to him. And he lets you.

Michael who wraps his arm around you at the movie theaters, your treat after he bought you lingerie the other day. Catching a glimpse of you wearing his favorite set he picked out for you, cock hardening at the thought of ripping it off of you when you two got home.

You two get back late, full on popcorn and soda. Giggling all the way to your room as Michael trails after, eyes trained on you as you dumbly undress in front of him as soon as you get to your hamper.

Michael who comes up behind you, hooking a finger in your bra strap, pulling it back and letting it go, hearing you yelp as it hits your skin with a snap. You turn around, scowling, about to protest, when Michael traps you against the wall, you’re frozen, unresponsive until he pressed his lips to yours.

Michael who finds himself tangled up with you, clothes strewn across the room as he bullies his cock into your pussy. Not caring if you’re struggling to adjust, beginning to pound into you, ripping moans from your throat. Watching as your breasts jiggle, grabbing at the fat of your ass as you pull him closer.

Michael who wakes up with you that morning, cute moment completely shattered when he finds himself screwing you from behind. Slapping your ass and forcing your hips back onto his, cumming into for the nth time. Remembering too late that neither of you used protection but only finding himself fucking into your pussy even harder at the thought of knocking you up.

Michael who when you come to him, a crying, bubbling mess, not sure of what to do, he knows before you tell him. Finding himself fucking you over every single surface in the house, table creaking with every thrust, your moans spurring Michael on.

Michael who gets eloped with you, not caring if everyone tells you two you’re too young, you’re already knocked up, what’s the harm in getting married in secret? He fucks you every other day, unable to get enough of you, holding your wrists against the walls as he pistons his hips up into you. It gets more intense as months go by, an obvious result of your pregnant belly.

Michael who still sometimes a douchebag, coming home late from work after meeting up with buddies and drinking. Accidentally raising his voice at you when you yell at him, demanding to know where he was. Knowing he fucked up when you leave, tears dripping down your cheeks. He doesn’t bother going after you, knowing you’ll be back sometime soon. But sometime soon turns into next morning, when he’s sober enough, Michael gets into his car, absolutely fucking livid. He finds you at a diner, sitting across from a man, your friend of course, but he thinks otherwise.

He finds himself breaking your friend’s nose, slugging him one last time before ushering you to the car, nearly speeding home. Not knowing whether to be hurt or angry when you scurry back into the house, locking yourself in your room and crying all evening. When it’s dinner you come out, uncomfortably sitting at the table, eyes puffy and cheeks flushed. You ignore Michael for the first half of the night, before finding yourself creaming all over his cock as he whispers in your ear, letting you ride him as he tells you how much he loves you.

Michael who still tries keeping his routine, getting up and fixing his mullet, finding himself calling in late to work frequently when he goes to big you goodbye with a kiss, but is pulled back into bed by a sex crazed you, your hormones making you more horny than him. Not that he’s complaining. Coming home to you to do the same thing as this morning, sucking and licking at your pussy as you cry out against the bed.

Michael who holds your baby after you give birth, labor quick but painful. Rocking the infant side to side, glancing up at you every ten minutes. Excited to take you both home, glad his boss lets him take a couple of days off, helping you around the house, perfect husband showing off his skill. Even wearing an apron when he makes you two food.

Michael who's actually the sweetest and doesn't know how to express it but only for you.

[mchlgayser]

☆ we've met again ft michael kaiser

synopsis: Four years past since you left and raised his kid alone until fate decides to bring him back to the picture.

─── ୨୧ warning: slight angst

─── ୨୧ notes: Is the fandom dying?? Why hadn't my post gotten as many hype as before lmao! It's sad but anyway I'm back with another drabble to feed you all!! Happy reading everyone xoxo!

You hastily pick up your car key and grab a few of your works essential stuffing them inside your suitcase. Your four-year-old son is by the patio sitting and playing games with his nanny when you tread to him 'Kay, mama had some work to do. I promise I'll be back for dinner. Be a good boy for me and do not cause trouble alright? Have a nice day at school.: He nods putting down his gadget, and wrapping his arms around your neck to hug you 'I love you' You give the side of his head a chaste kiss before letting go.

'I had some leftovers from last night you can use as his lunch and as for the dinner I'll just buy takeouts.' You inform his nanny giving her an advance payment before you left the house.

You drove to your office receiving an unknown call on the way. You pick it up and greet the caller but silence. They said nothing before it abruptly ended. You stare at your phone before shaking your head. It didn't occur to you about anything serious as you continue steering the car and parked at the basement parking lot.

Your secretary, Miss. Juliette is already by the automatic door waiting for you with a clipboard in her hands. You got out of the car and rush to her 'What's my schedule for today?' You punch the elevator button while your secretary notify you about every single of your tasks today.

You got a lunch with one of your important client, a meet -up with your temporary business partners and a dinner with another client -

'Cancel my dinner with Mr. Han. I'm having dinner with Kayden tonight.' Juliette didn't need to be asked twice knowing how firm you can be when it comes to your son. For him, everything comes first. No matter how important your job is. She immediately postponed the dinner meeting to another date before moving along with you to your cabin.

'Do you need your coffee today?' You rapidly nod and start doing your tasks, bringing out works and files so that you can finish faster. 'Make it two, I need extras.' You lend a sweet smile before you got to work.

The clock almost strikes six - just enough time for you to finish all of your work for the day and get the takeouts you ordered online. You pack your stuff and your necessities when your phone rang for the nth times of the day. You didn't think twice before picking up 'Hello?' It was silence... Again before a sharp and low 'Hey' is heard.

You blink in surprise asking them to know who they are but no answer and it ended again. You rolled your eyes and left the room to the car park. Yo throw away your bag in the back seat and resounded the car, cooling off the engine and blowing on some loud music to distract you from the suspicious spam calls.

'Yes, thank you so much! Have a nice day!' You rolled up the window putting down the food beside you on the shotgun seat. You maneuver the car to Kayden's school in silence but the radio.

You arrive at Kayden school's main gate and got out to meet with his teacher 'Hello ma'am. I'm here to pick Kayden up.' She was looking at you back and forth 'A man has already picked him up claiming to be your husband. Kayden went along with him.' You started to panic bringing out your phone and calling his nanny asking her to come by his school and help you look around.

You bow down at his teacher and run around the neighborhood, looking for your son. Thick tears threaten to fall when you look around but find him nowhere.

You call for his name again but are abruptly interrupted when you see a vogue silhouette of your son with a familiar blond and blue streaks hair sitting together on a bench near the playground.

'Kayden!' You yelled his name averting his whole attention toward you 'Mama!' He cries out running your direction to hug your trembling form 'You scared me!' You scolded him with tears now cascading down your cheeks 'I'm sorry...' You sigh tightening your hug and breaking it off after some moments.

You suddenly remembered the familiar blond guy with your son 'And who are you with-'

'He is with me.' The familiar voice brings you out of your trance. You pick Kayden up and rush away but he holds your hand 'I met him already, no need to hide away.' You carefully yank his hand away and sigh.

You put Kayden down and hide him behind you out of instinct.

His irises collided with yours, the identical smile adorning his complexion. 'This weird uncle said that he's my father. I don't believe him because he is so ugly. I don't have an ugly father right, ma? I'm too handsome to be his son.' He absentmindedly roasted his biological father that succeeded to bring a smile and a chuckle from you.

You pull his hand gently and turn to Kaiser 'He got all your traits.' You mentioned bringing confusion written all over Kayden's face.

'You are making my mama cry.' He said creating a dagger on Kaiser 'Am not.' He challenged, his hand on his midriff with his head tilt aside 'You are. If you are my father then you are the reason my mama cried almost every day because... She missed you.' A soft gasp elicited from you, your eyes sheet moist with tears once more.

'Then tell her, she should've not run away.' Kaiser held your hand, one brow furrowing. You push him away and wipe your tears. 'Kayden, stop spouting nonsense.' He huffs and pouts away.

'How do you find out about us?' He shrug 'I had my ways and that is not your concern. Not at all.' He lifts your chin and smirks 'You are still as beautiful as I remember.' You scoff but could not help the bright red hue on your cheeks.

'And I suppose it was you too, the one that's been calling me?' He laughs but nodded 'But I'm sure with my calls it helps to remind you of one thing.'

'And that is...?'

'It would be dangerous for such a gorgeous lady as you to be in a house that's not with your husband.'

'Can you stop flirting with my mama, weird uncle.' Kaiser is about to bite the tongue of his son but you prevent him from doing so 'Kay, I need you to start getting along with this uncle from now on.' He groan cut obligated

'Do you finally accept me back? Oh, and I need an explanation as to why you left. It can't be because of you are pregnant...' You look down at Kayden and ignored his question.

His mouth formed an 'o' shape but then he smiles 'I guess I can forgive you.'

'I think I need some time...' You suddenly mention making Kaiser confused 'About what?' You held his forearm 'About us.'

He nods picking Kayden up and make him yelps in surprise 'Sure. Let's go now little K.'

He places an arm around your waist and the other used to hold Kayden. You smile feeling somehow relieved - Kaiser and Kayden ended up bickering as to who you loves more all the way home and they both get a nice scolding after.

[mariacallous]

After months of spewing racist remarks about Kamala Harris and ginning up his base about invasions at the border and the promise to harm millions of immigrants, Donald Trump will once again be the president of the United States. Despite his naked racism and misogyny and attacks on his political opponents, the American people have chosen to send him back to the White House. Candidates use the last days of their campaign to make their final case before the American people. They say the thing you want voters to remember as they’re casting their votes on Election Day. The last thing Trump wanted millions of Americans to hear from him and his campaign? A cacophony of bigotry. Trump chose to host a rally in New York City that was reminiscent of a Nazi rally held there 85 years ago. He was set to speak in front of thousands of his fans in his hometown — but first, more than two dozen surrogates would get on stage to make the case for him. Comedian and podcaster Tony Hinchcliffe compared Puerto Rico to a pile of garbage, said Black people carve watermelons on Halloween and made crude comments about the sexual habits of Latinos. David Rem, who the campaign said is a childhood friend of Trump, called Democrats “degenerates.” Former Fox News host Tucker Carlson said Harris was a “Samoan, Malaysian low-IQ” person. (Harris’ father is Jamaican, and her mother is Indian.) The only comment the GOP attempted to do damage control on was the “joke” about Puerto Rico. Having such explicit racism on stage during a rally for a presidential campaign speaks volumes about the Republican Party and America at large. White conservative ideology, and by extension, Trump, has long been threatened by the sense that full racial equality was just on the horizon. It is not an accident that Trump began his political career after America elected its first Black president. During their own presidential campaigns, famous Alabama segregationist George Wallace promoted keeping the races separate and George H.W. Bush deployed an ad implying his opponent Michael Dukakis would let violent Black criminals out of prison. Ronald Reagan touted his love of “states rights” at a speech in Mississippi near the site of where civil rights workers had been brutally murdered 16 years earlier. Critics viewed it as a wink to racist white Southern voters. Still, no other major-party presidential candidate has embraced explicit racism the way Trump has. Trump entered the political foray during the Obama administration by leading the charge in the false claims that the president was secretly born in Kenya and thus ineligible to be president. A few years later, in a now infamous scene, he would come down the escalator at Trump Tower to announce that he was running for president himself and referred to Mexican immigrants as criminals and rapists. His major policy promise was to build a wall along the southern border. As president, Trump instituted a ban on people from several majority-Muslim countries entering the country, told three members of Congress who are women of color to “go back to where they came from,” and tried to send in the military to squash racial justice protesters. His reelection campaign in 2020 was marked by more of the same. During his speech accepting the GOP’s nomination, Trump said Democrats wanted to release “criminals” into suburban neighborhoods and declared on X that “when the looting starts, the shooting starts,” referring to Black Lives Matter protesters. Much of that seems tame compared to the 2024 campaign.

[sadhornyygirl]

Kinktober

Day 31: Halloween Party (michael myers)

For the children, Halloween was already over. And while the party for them ended, young people from all the neighborhoods left their homes and took to the streets; the celebration for them was just beginning. Boys with pockets full of cocaine and half-naked girls headed for the nearest nightclubs. For the new generation of young people in Illinois, Halloween had stopped being just "trick or treating" and became something more wild and liberal. Alcohol, unbridled sex and drugs were then the only bases that solidified the most anticipated night of the year.

And that's how you ended up on top of the handsome masked man, trying to save his life

"Please.' He murmurs in a tone of voice that is difficult to understand, 'I've never been...'

‘Never been fucked?’ You ask, already knowing the answer. ‘That’s obvious, my dear.’

The man is looking at you like you are a wonder, ‘How?’ hisses

‘All these years, and no one loved you like this? No one bothers to show you how you should be treated, how to deal with your own desires.’ You’re not saying this to be cruel, when a drop falls on your face and you look up. Michael’s eyes are fixed ahead, he monitors his breathing as you pull away from the hickey you left on him. You catch his tear and give him a gentle kiss. 'You are handsome.' You remind him: 'Breathtaking.' He gives you a shy smile at your compliment, 'You can have it,' you promise, and his hands hit the neckline of your purple dress. ‘If you tell me your name.’

He takes his time, with with your fingers roaming his body as he explores new territory. You can't understand how no one went out of their way to arrest and catch him sooner. Maybe he built his walls too well? What made him move away from everyone but you? Are you the only one bold enough to break it up? He seems to be weighing his options, wondering wondering whether it's worth giving in to his sexual desire to reveal something more about himself, something he can't take back. And then he whispers: ‘Michael’.

You step forward and pull him onto the nearest couch. Michael follows you obediently, and you make him sit down. Michael watches, completely placid, as you run your fingers over the bulge in his pants and his hips thrust into your palm. You check to see if he's dealing with his newfound feelings, if it's not too much, but Michael's waves you on. The sound of the zipper echoes in the silence as he begins to pant, the mere thought of what's to come mixed with his repression makes him melt under your touch. ‘Michael’, you repeat his name, palming him. ‘So sweet under all that power, all that facade.’

He's hard, leaking and panting for more when you run your finger over the tip of his cock, over the slit and gather the pre-cum there, 'Hurry.' He begs, but Michael is trying to maintain some of his dignity despite his hips rising up on the couch as his other hand begins to pump up and down his length. His eyes close and his mouth opens as Michael loses himself in the sensations you are providing him. It's the most exciting sexual experience you've ever had. Being the one who takes something so precious from him, the disposition.

His first orgasm crashes over him, boyish and spurting copious amounts of cum all over his hand, staining his pants, shirt and jacket. Michael shoves his fist in his mouth to mask his screams, his hips shaking with the intensity as you go faster, jerking him off until Michael can't form words, his orgasm a blinding collision of sensation and freedom. ‘Jesus, fucking Christ.’ He hisses, his his eyes falling on you as you watch him descend. You're dripping in your pants at the sight of him. He's never looked more stunning than when he's on the verge of orgasm, like a god with his sharp features and heaving chest.

'It was good?'

'Perfect.'

He is already starting to glow with sex. Michael is still hard when he starts to go down, much to your pleasure. He has stamina and reaches for you, holding your waist as you push your pants to the side and slide down on his cock. He's filthy and wet when you impale yourself on him. Michael’s moan is guttural; your hips are already lifted as you set a rhythm, keeping your hands on his chest for support. You lie down, enjoying every inch of him, determined to get as much pleasure out of taking his virginity, from ruining him. ‘That’s it.’ You encourage: ‘Just like that. Then, when you're ready, you'll cum inside me. I'm going to let go, I'm coming with you.

That's all he needs to hear, his grip and his long, thick length already pushing you over the edge as Michael bites down harder on your hand, his rings glistening in the darkness of the room, his face scrunched up in orgasm. It's the best feeling in the world, watching him come undone beneath you, watching his muscles contract and relax beneath your fingertips as you bend down to kiss wherever you can reach. He lasted longer than you expected, and it hurts when you pull away from him. He cries as his cum drips from his core, pulling on his chest, staining more of his black shirt. Michael is completely fucked, eyes open just enough to see the cum dripping onto his stomach and he reaches out to scoop up some, wondering as you slide your pants back into place.

— I believe you won't kill me now??

You smooth out his dress, the wetness and remnants of Michael's cum soaking your pants. Michael sits up, his eyes still wide, but he's more relaxed than you've ever seen him, 'How did this happen?'

You plant a kiss on his lips, and Michael kisses back: ‘Do I have a place in your life now, Michael?’

He nods, ‘If you do that again,’

You smile at his boldness and reward him with another kiss. You straighten up and head to his door, Michael watching you go. 'Tonight, when the others are asleep. My room this time.