#Don't ask how long did it take him not to worry about being murdered in his sleep.

[stromuprisahat]

Demon in the Wood (Leigh Bardugo)

Two of the Grisha sat by the fire: a handsome man in blue and a woman in red robes with a haughty, refined air. ... The woman in red turned back to Mal and Alina, her dark eyes blazing. “We are not witches. We are practitioners of the Small Science. We keep this country and this kingdom safe.” ... The woman in red looked down at them. “If, by some small chance, one of you is Grisha, then that lucky child will go to a special school where Grisha learn to use their talents.” ... The woman in red slides her hand around my wrist. I feel a sudden rush of pure certainty wash over me. I stop struggling. A call rings through me. Something within me rises up to answer.

Shadow and Bone- Before & Chapter 11

“And you’re a living amplifier. Like Ivan’s bear.” The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Like Ivan’s bear.” An unpleasant thought occurred to me. “But that means—” “That my bones or a few of my teeth would make another Grisha very powerful.” “Well, that’s completely creepy. Doesn’t that worry you a little bit?” “No,” he said simply.

Shadow and Bone- Chapter 5

[gregorygerwitz]

AITA for coming out at my sister's wedding?

I (32M) recently realized I'm bisexual and I have my first bf (45M), he's a rescue helicopter pilot (this will be relevant later). I'm out to my sister (41F) and my coworkers, including her husband, who I have worked with for years, but not to my parents or most of the other guests. Everyone has joked that I'm a little too close to my best friend (32M), and we might as well get married, but he's straight and has a gf. They're not relevant to this story, but to give context to how much my sexuality probably shouldn't be a surprise, even if it took me by surprise.

I told my sister and her husband I was bringing a plus one, and they both knew my bf, they were supportive of it because he makes me really happy.

Everything kind of started at the bachelor party. It was just me, my brother-in-law, and my best friend, and we did the usual stuff. We stayed a night in a hotel, went out to get drunk, sang some karaoke at our usual spot. It should have been a super chill night. Until my best friend and I lost the groom??? But it way more stressful than The Hangover makes it look.

He'd been taken by these guys who tried to kill him (no, I don't know why) and we didn't realize he was missing until less than an hour before the wedding. My mom kind of threw a fit about us being late, and then blamed me for losing the groom, which is kind of a normal reaction from her. My dad didn't yell as much but again, this is a normal reaction, I'm kind of the disappointment child. Basically, we had to find my brother-in-law because he still needed to marry my sister.

Before anyone worries: they did get married. He's fine. The hospital says they're discharging him tomorrow to go home. They're gonna reschedule their honeymoon so he's well enough to enjoy it.

Long story short, it turned into a rescue mission, and driving would have taken too long, and my best friend suggested we ask my bf to borrow his helicopter again (long story, but we had to borrow him for something a few months ago, it's how we met!) so I asked him for the favor. My mom asked who he was, since my best friend just used his name, and I told her he's my boyfriend, and she freaked out about it.

When we go to the hospital with my brother-in-law, my parents both yelled at and scolded me for taking attention away from the biggest day of my sister's life by pulling some "stunt" with my bf (to SAVE my brother-in-law from being violently murdered), and I think my dad somehow grounded me?

AITA?

[lehguru]

I loved your scenario about OP men reacting to you crying! It was so sweet!! If you’re taking requests and interested in this prompt, could you maybe do a scenario of them reacting to you taking a hit for them? I wanted to specifically ask for Law and Killer, but you can add whoever else you’d like to 😁

If not, then I hope you enjoy your day and keep up the good work! 💞✨

TAKING A HIT + LAW & KILLER

you taking a hit during a fight for them

info + tw: this is the type of drama i like muahahaha, also sorry for taking soooo long to get to this! i hope you enjoy it nonetheless; tw for murder, blood, violence — ko-fi – comms

trafalgar d. water law did not enjoy seeing you jump in front of the blade that was coming towards him. just as quickly as you got slashed, you found yourself inside the heart pirates' submarine. the soft sheets under you and the light shining directly above you made you realize, you were at the infirmary. the thought of cracking a joke about how penguin would hate to wash those sheets later immediately went away as your chest slowly pulsed with pain. you winced and law held you down on the bed.

"why the fuck did you do that?!" he yelled, the composure he always had long gone now. he started to tend to your wounds; you just stared at his expression, trying your best to focus on the way his eyebrows furrowed deeply and the muscle on his jaw clenched. you reached out and touched his cheekbone, your fingertips leaving blood prints on his skin. "we need to cut your sideburns." you blurted out, making him yell out your name in frustration.

you managed to stay awake as he worked on the slash on your chest. every time you tried to open your mouth to say something—you were definitely going to say something funny to make him at least smile—, law gave you a glare, his golden eyes flooded with worry and, at the same time, concentration. after he cut the last stitch, he turned his back to you and murmured, in the same tone he talks about this one guy from his past: "don't ever do that again, please. if i lose you, i lose everything."

there wasn't much that could worry killer, even more when it came to a fight. he would jump in, quickly get things done and leave, even if he ended up all bloodied because of it; it didn't mean these fights were always easy. one day, he ended up being almost overwhelmed by other pirates and, before he could react, the sound of a gun going off echoed through the battlefield.

he expected to feel anything, but there was nothing. with the corner of his eye, he noticed a well-known silhouette falling over. you, the most precious thing he ever had in his life, was now laying down on a growing pool of blood. with his mind hoing completely blank, all killer managed to do was run to you and yell his captain's name.

as he pressed his hands to stop the blood from pouring out, you could see his eyes under his mask—they were shaky, darting from your wound, to your face and back to your wound. "don't die on me. don't fucking die on me!" he murmured, almost angrily. "you're not supposed to go before me."

2024 © content belongs to lehguru, do not repost, translate or feed it into ai without permission

[torturedtypewritersdept]

proclivity - part one - scott street

✯ pairing:

ex!bff!rafe cameron x diabetic!kook!fem!reader

✯ summary:

at one point in time rafe was your best friend. can summer romance erase all the damage he's done?

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, heartbreak, diabetes lingo, injury, ghosting, fluff and fear, domestic violence (not rafe), mean!ex!jj etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) trying out a new format with this post, hope you like it!

Your feet hit the floor with a loud grunt as you pull yourself from your satin pink sheets, they feel heavenly and quite frankly, the discipline your parents are bestowing upon you as they do their best to make it a point that your pogue ex-boyfriend is an ex for a reason is mind-numbingly stupid. You’re aware of this fact — you are so hyper aware that it causes you physical pain. So much more than your broken wrist, which is also his fault as much as everything else. You groan loudly as you hear your mother call your name again. The “Don’t make me ask again, y/n” voice  she’s using is also mind-numbingly annoying, though you know that she is very serious and that she will probably send your father in to chop you into a million pieces and sell your corpse on the black market if you don’t listen to her. So, you scream back. 

“I’m up!” 

You screech. You are usually perfectly obedient and poised, but the one thing that JJ has taught you is absolute attitude from the pits of hell. Your parents had realized this new attribute early on into your relationship with him and from the way you picked up his habits so quickly, they knew he was bad news. It should’ve been your first sign that something – the relationship, him – it was all wrong. You should’ve known when your parents started talking in Rafe’s language – in pogue versus kook, because they weren’t those kinds of people, the kind to pass judgment on people that they didn’t know and you never had been either. You feel like you’re at a disadvantage because of this now, because really you should’ve listened to Rafe’s warnings in early childhood about pogues being bad news. You never expected them to be true, for your perfect pogue to make you question who you are, to wind you up in jail. Jail – a word so far from being associated with you that it makes you cringe just thinking about it. Just thinking about the way it's dirty, pogue-ridden walls were trying to infect you with its virus, to hold you captive for all the days of your life. When your father had picked you up, he was livid – fuming, ready to murder every person that had touched his precious baby daughter. You’d been without insulin for hours and were on the verge of being too sick to recover when he picked you up. That seemed to be the only real thing on your side as he stormed into the Kildare police station and carted you off to the hospital. Good thing he did, because your arm was broken as well as your diabetes royally fucking you like it always did. He demanded answers and you easily gave him the right one — that Taylor Swift’s Getaway Car hadn’t prepared you for this, for JJ’s abandonment either. You assumed he took pity on you then in the way that only a girl dad knows how to. That doesn’t really matter though, because you’re still getting punished. They are making you take a summer job at The Island Club in order to pay for your transgressions, the price of bail but more importantly worrying them and getting yourself hurt. You get it truly, but that doesn’t make it suck any less. You wish you could call Rafe in times like these, though you know those days have been over for a very long time. 

—

You’re behind the bar when they walk in, getting orientated by none other that a pogue named Summer from your class. She’s nice enough and very pretty, saving for college because without a job, there’s no way she will be able to go. You appreciate her kindness as she shows you how to make a Mai Tai for the fourth time. You notice the three stooges as they walk through the door from a fresh round of golf, still smelling of freshly cut grass and the stench of perspiration. You mentally berate yourself for your brain’s inability to use their real names after all this time. Rafe, Topper, and Kelce approach the bar dripping wet with sweat. You haven’t seen them exert this much physical activity since the beginning of last year’s football season so the sight is a little funny. It’s hot in the obx this year though, more so than years past. So, you’re guessing it hasn’t taken much to make them glisten. Your eyes are locked on your former friends, but Rafe particularly – since he’s really the only one stuck in the former category. The other two still love you very much, despite your very poor taste in men. He’s handsome – you note, more so than the last time you saw him. He’s grown about a foot, everything is bigger about him really and you can’t help but wonder if that part is bigger too – MOVING ON. He’s smiling, talking to Summer and for a moment you find yourself staring, wondering if he’s ever going to smile at you like that again one day. Stupid girl, you think. The answer is no and you know that. 

“Y/n, When did you start working here?” 

Topper asked, puzzledly. You can feel Rafe’s brow etch in confusion as he stares intently at your cheeks that are freckled brown from the summer sun. 

“I got in trouble, remember? This is my punishment.” 

You are doing your best not to have to explain your situation to the entirety of the club. So, you laugh in comradery with your friend, clenching your teeth and sporting a forced smile, though you feel ashamed about it and probably will punish yourself for it later. 

“Three Mai Tai’s, pretty please.” 

Rafe spoke, breaking your attention away from Topper, giving Summer his best puppy dog eyes. You smile softly at his tactics, noting that nothing has changed in that regard.  

“We can’t do that, can we?” 

You whisper in Summer’s ear. She looks at you and smiles. 

“Good girl! You’re picking up fast, just like I said you would.” 

You beam at her praise as she redirects her attention to the boys.

“Come on, boys. You know I can’t serve you alcohol, you’re underage.” 

She said, rolling her eyes. Topper laid his fake ID down on the flat mahogany surface of the bar, sliding it over. 

“This clearly states that I’m 23.” 

He retorted and you rolled your eyes in feigned annoyance. 

“Come on, y/n! Really? What is it? You only give alcohol to Maybank or something?” 

Rafe jokingly questioned with a sneer, his distaste for anything Pogue related always everpresent. Your face fell and your breath caught in your throat, the moment the last name of your ex-boyfriend left his lips. You think only of the Rafe that used to be your best friend and then to the moment that all changed during freshman year. How he left you in the dust of appearances and fancy parties, how he turned into a major dick who made it his newfound purpose in life to cut you down every chance he got. You remembered the embarrassingly drunk voicemail you left him last year, crying into the phone about how he was everything to you and he left you behind after the first time JJ had touched you in a violent way. You never told him that though. You had been civil and joked back and forth, but had no real conversations or interactions since then. That was mostly because you were embarrassed about it, you knew that he probably showed it to Kelce and Topper and laughed about it for ages, making fun of how pathetic you were. Your fears seem to be true now as he cuts you down with his sneer and hate-filled blue eyes. You still don’t know what you did, what you did to put the butterfly effect into motion; how you and Rafe got so far off the beaten path. The tears rimmed your eyes, being reminded of your now ex-boyfriend wasn’t how you planned on spending your afternoon. No one knew how you’d followed his every whim all summer, how it had landed you in jail, gotten you a broken wrist, almost killed you when you hadn’t paid attention to your sugar for hours. He’d left you there and no one knew and you wanted so badly to tell Rafe about all of it. But, you couldn't – not anymore. Because you were right where he left you, like an abandoned toy in the toy box he no longer wanted to play with. As if all of that wasn’t enough to embarrass you and make you want to die, JJ had cheated with one of your close friends, Kiara, too and all the Pogues knew about it – sending you into a spiral of grieving all your friends at once. You had virtually no one. Rafe didn’t know and how could he, you stopped getting to tell him the ins and outs of your life a long time ago. So, while the joke seemed harmless to him, it broke something inside of you. You looked up, meeting his eyes, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. But, he knew you, he knew that look, he knew those glossed over eyes – he knew he had fucked up. 

“Woah, what’s wrong? I’m just kidding around. Can’t you take a joke, Y/N?” 

The bitterness left his tongue as quick as his feigned concern, almost like he couldn’t turn either off.  

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. I’ve been wiping my own tears for a long time now.” 

You bit out, not meaning to spill your guts the way you did, but he deserved it. He couldn’t help but feel your words so deeply. He often felt guilty for the way he left you, with no reason why. There was a time when he would’ve talked you out of being with a loser like JJ Maybank, a time when he would dry your tears and hug you tightly, a time when he would’ve protected you. You slowly but surely made the boys their drinks, a tear slipping out of your eye. No one noticed but Topper and he gave you a sad, knowing look. You headed to the kitchen, hoping no one would be in the locker room that was right off to the side of it, so you could cry in peace. 

“What did I say?”

Rafe questioned the boys, confusedly. 

“You’re a fucking idiot. Have you not heard that Maybank cheated on her and all the Pogues knew about it? He got her in trouble, Rafe and she got hurt. She’s lost everybody important to her, and you just have to be an asshole to her, when we all know how you really feel about her. Grow up, man.” 

Kelce spoke up with distaste on his tongue. 

“Shit.”

He whispered out, deciding then, he’d make it his mission to get into your good graces again, if that was even possible. It’d been long enough without you in his life and he had only wanted a break to protect you from his own faults. 

After you had made it to the locker room, you leaned against the lockers, your head falling back in defeat. It’s been two weeks since JJ broke your heart and it felt like the last year with you had meant nothing to him. He didn’t even say he was sorry. You stayed like that for a moment, cringing thinking about the fact that you had to work with him tonight. Summer had warned you in advance as she orientated you and you gave her the smaller version of events. You wished so badly that you could rewind time and not let Rafe drift away from you, all you wanted in this moment was one of his hugs – feeling his strong, muscular arms wrap around you. It had been two years since you’d had a hug like that. You pushed the thoughts down once more, drying your eyes and making your way back out to the bar. The boys were still sitting there. Rafe took in your form, the way the blanched redness of your face stood out. He could tell you had been crying, really hard, and that made his chest tight. It had always made his fucking chest hurt. He wanted to kill JJ Maybank for what he had done to you. You made your way behind the bar and locked eyes with Topper. 

“Can I get you boys anything else?”

You asked – voice shaky. 

“We’re fine, Y/N.”

Topper spoke with a softness and an ease to his voice. Topper and Kelce had stayed friend’s with you even after Rafe decided not to and Topper was the first phone call you made after your dad had brought you home from the hospital; filling him in on all the gorey details. He came over with pizza and wine and made you laugh about how much of an idiot JJ was. That made you feel better for a while, but you cried yourself to sleep that night, mostly sad that you couldn’t call Rafe out of embarrassment or fear of leaving another voicemail he’d never return. You often wondered if you were ever important to him at all. 

“Hey, sweet cheeks!”

You were brought out of your thoughts by JJ’s boisterous yet sinister laugh as he called you by a nickname you no longer welcomed. Rafe watched as your body became completely stiff. It made his skin crawl that you were so uncomfortable and as he saw your eyes gloss over he knew this was about to be bad. 

“What, Y/N, you too good to talk to me now?”

JJ questioned, annoyed that you were ignoring him. You wanted to speak to him, but you couldn’t find the words to say and you definitely didn’t want to do it in front of Rafe. Before you could even muster up a response, Topper and Rafe were behind the bar, standing in front of JJ, blocking him from getting close to you. Summer was thankful because she had never liked JJ and couldn’t do much on her own to protect you. 

“Maybank, I suggest you back up. You have no right to talk to her after what you’ve done!” 

Rafe growled. 

“Oh and you do? You tore her heart out of her chest, hollywood.” 

He laughs in response. 

“What are you even talking about?” 

Rafe questioned confusedly. 

“Oh, you know, when you stopped talking to her out of the blue freshman year. What you thought I didn’t know about that? You don’t think everyone knows about that?” 

JJ’s laugh has become incredulous at this point. Rafe looked in your direction, with apologetic eyes. 

“What would you know about that? You don’t know anything that went on between us.” 

Rafe snarled. 

“I know she cried all the time. I know about that embarrassing voicemail she left you. I know she never got over it. I mean I can’t say I blame you for ghosting her like that, she’s boring and what would the king kook want with her-”

The sound of Rafe’s fist meeting JJ’s jaw was enough to send a chill down your spine. Topper quickly pulled you away from the scene, not wanting you to be caught in the crossfire of an angry Rafe, especially when it involved defending you – he knew he had no self control in that regard. 

“Y/N, look at me. Are you okay?” 

He questioned softly. 

“I-I, no, top. W-why d-did he do this t-to me?” 

You asked through stifled sobs and his soft eyes traced over your figure. Unbeknownst to you and Topper, Rafe had run out to find you after he mopped the floor with JJ, his knuckles bloody for you. But, as he made his way through the club, he heard stifled sobs on the other side of a wooden door and he stopped to listen.

“I don’t know, sweet girl. People cheat and I don’t think there’s ever a reason-”

Topper continued, but was quickly cut off by you as you clarified who exactly you were referring to. 

“No, why did Rafe do this to me? I loved him so much and I-I don’t know maybe JJ’s right. Maybe I just wasn’t good enough to be his friend anymore. Maybe he saw what a piece of shit I was.” 

You mumbled. 

“No, listen, it’s deeper than all that. When Rafe’s ready to tell you what happened, he will. But don’t beat yourself up, Y/N. There’s nothing wrong with you.” 

He replied, stroking your hair. 

Rafe couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he really had broken your heart and you really thought you were the one that wasn't good enough for him. 

as always, if you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know <3

taglist:

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey

[lotomber]

Hear me owwwwt pm! Dazai with a teen mom reader (17 or 18?) and he became a an AMAZING stepfather but when bio dad comes demanding custody he insults dazai for only being the stepdad and not the bio dad….(I think dazai would beat the shit out of him lmaooo) BUT ALSO he decides to put a baby in YOU just to show everyone his sperm is better.

Dazai with a teen single mom!

T/W: Nsfw, explicit content, Teen mom Reader!(18y/o), Pm! Dazai, Shitty ex!, teenage pregnancy, rough sex, piv, semi public sex, voyeurism, breeding kink, creampie, mentions of murder, not proof read!

It was hard being a single mother moreover when you were a teenager. Your boyfriend went MIA when you told him you were pregnant. You met Dazai when you were working part time and he was instantly drawn to you, something about you mesmerized him. It didn't took him long to befriend you and how could he leave you alone when you told him about how you work alone to take care of your toddler? He instantly offered to help you, you hesitated at first but contrary to your worries he was a loving partner and an amazing father to your daughter 'Hana'. He spoils her rotten, buys her tons of clothes and toys (afterall mafia pays him well), makes sure to pick her up from playschool when you are busy, and he just loves to play with her. One thing he really loved about Hana was the fact that she absolutely resembled you not her shitty father. At first it just started with his simple interest in you but as he spend more time with you and Hana he would desperately wish that you three could be a family forever, something he never thought he could have. And how could you not fall for him when he always did more than you could have ever asked for?

But all shit fell down when your ex came back crawling demanding custody of your daughter. You told him that your daughter only has one father and that is Dazai. But he just scornfully told Dazai that he was just being a stupid cuckold cause he's not even biologically her father and no matter what he will just remain a stranger. You were distraught by his shamelessness but you trusted Dazai when he told you he would handle this.

"Aah Sa-Samu slow down" But you didn't knew it would involve you bending over table in his office while his cock mercilessly pumps in and out of your tight cunt. How did you even get in this situation?

After dropping off Hana at playschool you got a call from Dazai asking you to come at his office. You thought it was weird cause he never really called you to his office. But as soon as you reached there he just bended you over his table, lifting your skirt to your waist while sliding your panties down to your knees. He pushes his whole length with one thrust filling you to the brink. You moan sharply and gasp for breathe as his pace does not falter.

"F-fuck donna you're so tight, so pretty f'me, just f'me." he grunts. You scratch the mahogany trying to gain some stability as the pleasure was overwhelming you. You try to muffle your voice but of course Dazai's didn't liked it so gave he gave a particular hard thrust making you scream.

"S-shit bella, so warm and tight, you want my seed right? I'm gonna knock you up full of my seeds!" you couldn't even comprehend what he was saying at this point anymore as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach and with a few more rough thrusts you came all over him.

"You like it bella don't you? I'm sure hana would also like a little sibling hmm right?." He grunts as there was a weird thumping noise from the back closet in the office. He increased his pace ramming more harshly than before as room is filled with the Squelching noises of your pussy and his wet balls. You feel him twitching as he shoot thick ropes of cum inside you. You gasp from the overstimulation as he keeps pumping his cock making sure you take his load well and it doesn't spill out.

All while you were unknown to the fact that your ex was stuffed in the back closet of Dazai's office. Before calling you over to his office he tied and gagged him, stuffing him in the closet. Why? Of course because dazai had to show your ex who you belonged to and that you will bear his children for him. He made him listen all this on purpose to remind him of his place before disposing him from this world.

Tags: @mberxo, @xxcandlelightxx

A/n: anyone who wants to join my taglist can send in an ask!

This supposed to be a drabble but it came out longer than expected anyways hope you enjoy it nonie! <;3

[chronicbeans]

Yandere Platonic Alastor x Victim Reader

You got killed by him when you both were alive, because you accidentally ended up witnessing him burying a body. Unknowingly, because neither of you recognized each other in Hell, you both became friends... Now the memories are returning.

TW: Death, Murder, Cannibalism (again, this is Alastor), Fear and Anxiety, Invasion of Privacy/Personal Space, Stalking, Manipulation, Yandere Behavior (Upped to more than usual, for Alastor)

• You remember how you died relatively well. Back in the 1920s, you decided to go on a nighttime walk in the woods... well, more like heavily wooded swamps of New Orleans, only to stumble across a man burying a body in the ground. You panicked, which alerted him, and you got shot. That's the gist of it. You don't know who did it, you don't know why he killed that person he was burying, but you have always vowed revenge on the person who did it.

• However, you decided to try to redeem yourself, still. You entered the Hazbin Hotel, being led in by an excited Charlie, only to then be met with Alastor. You recognized his voice as one you heard on a radio show, when you were alive... and when you asked, he confirmed your suspicions that it was him who was the host! You were surprised, and although you never met him in life, you were comforted by at least having someone from your time period here.

• And as such, you mostly stuck by him. Although you wouldn't call him a friend. It was more like he was a familiar presence for you. Sure, he was the Radio Demon, but he hadn't shown any hostility towards you. So, in your opinion, there was no need for concern or fear. He never seems to mind, either. The most he does is stare at you or ask why you spend so much time with him, and you always be truthful.

• In truth, although he doesn't want to admit it, he enjoys your company. Alastor views you as a sort of lost soul who needs guidance... and by that, it means he wants to take your soul. You seem a bit naive to his true nature, so you'd be relatively easy to trick, yeah? You may not be strong or a good tool to use, but keeping you on a leash would be nice, in his opinion. It's not everyday he finds someone from not only his time period, but his area! You're like a little rare gem, who brings him nostalgia.

• He's proven wrong, however, as you deny his offer for a deal. So, he was proven wrong. You're smart enough to deny his offer for a deal... Which, although he is irritated, he has to applaud you for. You're smart, and he loves smart people! It beats the idiotic brawn he often interprets many of the inhabitants of Hell to be run by, which he despises. So, although he never gets to own your lovely soul, he earns more respect for you as a person rather than just a nostalgic memory from the past. Seeing people less as people, such as viewing them as tools or objects for his own enjoyment, is a problem he has... One that you've gotten past due to being a bit more intelligent than some of the other sinners, and gained his respect as a person.

• The more time you spend together, the more you two become friends... Sure, it takes a long time, but it eventually happens. You find him to have his own sort of charm underneath the eerie exterior, and he sees you as someone at the hotel who really understands him and where he comes from. Sure, Mimzy is also someone who he sees similarly since they were friends in life, but she is rarely at the Hazbin Hotel, if ever. You're a guest of the establishment, though, so he can hang around with you more often.

• Though... you are beginning to have... memories coming back. Alastor sounds a bit like the man who killed you, so you have been thinking about your killer. It's been becoming distressing, because you are worried about meeting him in Hell. Sure, you want revenge, but you are not a very strong demon. There's about a 50/50 chance he might be stronger than you. It's gotten to the point where you decide to confide in Charlie about it. She decides that, the next day, she'd have everyone do art therapy with the task of drawing their greatest stressor. Of course, with your permission, of course...

• So, you alongside the other residents start the next day making art while eating breakfast. You all are not exactly sure who is going to be participating in the sharing process Charlie wants to try out, but you know you sure as Hell won't. You only plan to share it with Charlie... and maybe Alastor. You're not sure, yet.

• You doodle what you remember your killer looking like, the body he was burying, alongside the area you died in. Then, once you're done, you bring it over to Charlie. She seems a little disheartened, as if upset that the situation still impacts you to this day, but supportive. Then, she suggests that you could show it to Alastor. Maybe he will recognize him? And, if anybody could protect you if you do meet your killer in Hell, it'd be him. To be honest, you didn't even think of the fact that Alastor might recognize him!

• Now excitedly, you go to find Alastor. You notice that he also seems to be participating in the workshop. It is probably the first time you've seen him participate in one, but you always suspected he'd join in on one that involves drawing, since he had mentioned enjoying doodling things from time to time. You don't peek at it, considering the challenge is to draw what stresses you, but from the brief glimpse you get you see a bunch of chains.

• "Alastor! Hi! Charlie recommended I show you my drawing, in case you can help me... would you be willing to take a look?" He looks over to you, grinning widely. His first few thoughts are about how he can use whatever problem you have to try, once again, to sucker a deal from you. So, he nods his head rather quickly. "Of course, dear! Anything for a friend."

• You show him your picture, explaining that it's the man who killed you... only for his face to suddenly go pale. He's grinning, like always, but you can tell something is wrong. "Alastor? You okay?" For a few moments, he's quiet, before he snaps out of it. "Ah, yes, dear! I'm fine! The man is um... familiar to me. I just need to try to remember who he is... I'll let you know if I remember."

• He may sound calm, but inside, he's panicking. It's him. It's him. He killed you. He remembers who you were, too, considering the scenery. That, and you decided to keep your name. You were the one victim he didn't plan to kill. The only one that he felt a little remorse for, since you didn't fit the criteria of his usual victims. He killed based off of his weird morals, so killing someone who he usually wouldn't have hit him a bit. So much so, even in Hell, his mind wandered to you from time to time... Now, you're here, and you don't recognize him.

• By a little remorse, he means much more than he'd like to admit. He may be the cruel, sadistic Radio Demon, but back when he was human he still had a bit more care for others. That, and in Hell, it's a lot easier to find people who fit his murderous criteria he had when he was alive. So, although he doesn't go by that code as much in Hell, he still believes you didn't deserve it. You just were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he couldn't let a witness live.

• Meanwhile, you're completely oblivious to his internal panic. All you're noticing is that, as the days go by, he's keeping a closer and closer eye on you. While you would usually go and seek him out, now, you don't need to! It's his turn to do the seeking! Though, it is odd how he seems to know where you are all the time... That, and he's been knocking on your door the second after you wake up, almost like he's some sort of psychic, or something!

• Now, while Alastor is usually more obsessive and possessive when it comes to relationships, to the point where one may say he's a yandere by default... When Alastor actually is a yandere? You're screwed. Those behaviors are upped to the max. There's no escaping him.

• He's spying on you, yes. He normally would. Now, though, it's almost constantly. From your room, to the store, to the park, to anywhere else you go. He's a lot more obvious about it, too. He'd normally let you have other friends, but in this case, you're not allowed. Well, you are, but he will actively try to get you to not trust them. What if they're your killer? The only exception would be the others at the Hazbin Hotel, since he wants you to stay there. If you're too scared, you might leave, and it'd make it harder to find you to stalk you.

• He's also going to try to make deals with you much more often, now. Little ones at first, though, that don't involve your soul. If he gets you this, you have to get him that. If he does this, you need to do that. Small things, to slowly build you up to the big deal he plans to have you agree to. Like a frog in boiling water. You throw it into hot water it'll jump out, but if you slowly turn up the heat, it'll stay put until the end. You probably don't even notice the deals increasing in intensity.

• And so, when he approaches you with a deal one day, you aren't surprised. However, he knows this one is too good to pass up! Or, at least, it sounds too good until you agree. "Dear, I've figured out who your killer is! Though, I want to make a deal. I'll tell you who it is and make sure you're safe, and in return, you give me your soul. Now, before you disagree, think about it. If I have your soul, I can protect you much easier, as I'll be more connected to you. That, and they can't steal it from you and hurt you more than if they did have it. So, is it a deal?" He's made his points... and you're now so used to intense deals, that you agree to it, despite your unease. Giving up your soul is a big thing, but he's your friend, hasn't hurt you, and from what it sounds like... he wouldn't hurt you once he has your soul. It's to protect you, yeah?

• Once you do, shaking his hand to seal the deal, he immediately lets you in on his secret. His grip moves from your hand to your wrist, his grin wide as he speaks calmly. "Do not panic, dear. I did it. I killed you, because you saw something you shouldn't have." And with that, all his true colors are revealed. He admits to everything, from the stalking, to the obsessions, and to his true reason for wanting your soul: to keep you close.

• You, for one, are terrified. Your worst fear is realized. Your killer is stronger than you - a literal overlord- and now owns your soul. Your leash is much tighter and shorter than Husk's, too. You're constantly being dragged around by him. He shows you off, as if you are some sort of trophy. He probably brings you everywhere he goes, even to Cannibal Town and meetings, so you aren't out of his sight.

• If you try to get away from him, he will literally drag you back. Then, he's going to be holding onto your shoulder tightly for the next few hours. It's his passive aggressive way of saying "I'm not afraid to hurt you", without actually saying anything... As if you getting dragged by a chain wrapped around your throat wasn't enough to prove it.

• You are, in your own way, treated a bit better than Husk. That is, as long as you actually go along with his insanity. If you act good, he'll treat you to food- no, not the raw meat and demon flesh he eats. Foods that you actually like. He'll make sure you have the best room in the hotel. He'll even, begrudgingly, let you have a television. If you aren't so nice, though, he'll basically take away everything. The food you eat will be what he eats, you're probably going to be in his room so he can keep an eye on you, and there will be no technology allowed other than radio and things that came before it. The most you'll get is to be allowed to sleep in his bed, while he sleeps on one of the chairs in his room (that is, if he doesn't stay up all night to watch you).

• Charlie probably isn't aware of any of this. The most she might notice is that you two are hanging out more often, and that Alastor was your killer. However, she truly believes he can be redeemed, especially since your murder wasn't something he wanted. So, she won't question it, and believes a lot of the things Alastor says to explain your odd behavior. "They're a bit nervous, still, but we're working it all out." "They've been staying in my room because the prefer it there." "They got rid of their phone because they realized they were getting a bit addicted to social media." Whenever you try to say anything, though, you feel a slight tug on your chain, which keeps you quiet about it. Stupid deal...

• You aren't going anywhere. He's doing all of this with the goal of making it all up for you, in his own twisted way. Especially since he's now learned that you are the exact opposite of the type of person he would kill. If you act good, you'll see! He'll give you mostly everything you want. He'll shower you in apologies for your death, give you gifts, and maybe let you have some alone time... He just gets a little more than frustrated when you try to leave... Please, he's been waiting for this opportunity for years, so just let him apologize for killing you... Even if his apology lasts for all of eternity.

[emxisms]

Can you do the Sinclair brothers, thomas, Bubba, brahms, Billy loomis, and stu matcher with a s/o that is the illuminati? They make deals with people and if they break it they kill them? So they basically are a killer too. (Make sure to take care of yourself)

Hi my love! Yes ofcourse I can! I hope you're doing well, make sure to take care too. Xoxo 💋

𝕾𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖝 𝕴𝖑𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎 𝕸𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

FEM!reader.

Warnings: Harsh language, mentions of killing (duh), references to inappropriate acts

𝔅𝔬 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔯

At first, he was definitely alarmed. You know, nobody would really trust it at first. Especially Bo. He doesn't trust anyone, really. Not even his own twin.

When he finds out you kill people aswell, he would ease into the thought of you helping 'decorate' Ambrose.

"What, so, you basically do deals with the devil and shit?" "Um, sort of.. in a way.." "Shit, and I thought you couldn't get any hotter."

He would beg you to let him help kill the sons of bitches who break their end of the deal. Then proceeds to get angry at you when you refuse.

𝔙𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔯

Definitely shocked. Who knew someone so sweet was capable of something so harsh? You would never lay a finger on him, but to hear this news.. lord have mercy.

Is always worried about you when you go on trips. The last thing he wants is for you to get hurt when dealing with 'business.'

*Baby promise me you'll be careful, okay?* he signs, "I don't know what's careful about murder, but I promise."

𝔗𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔰 ℌ𝔢𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔱

Lord does he freak out. You're telling him your job is to make awful deals and.. if they mess up, you have to put yourself in danger?! No thank you.

When you reassure him that you're okay, and safe, he'll calm down a bit more. He just wants you safe all the time. He hates having you around his home because of how dangerous it is, but love is one hell of a drug.

Huffs and grunts at you when you get mad at him for not being careful while 'hunting' knowing damn well you do the same on your business trips. He's a sassy man at heart. But he still loves you, ofcourse.

𝔅𝔲𝔟𝔟𝔞 𝔖𝔞𝔴𝔶𝔢𝔯

WHAATTT??!!!

Wants you to teach him some moves. He's open to learning a few things. If he has to kill, he wants to do it in style.

Is really excited about it at first, but the more he thinks about it, realization hits in. You could get hurt doing this. He doesn't like it anymore.

After some reassurance and cuddles later, he's calmed down and is okay with it. As long as his love is okay, he's okay.

𝔅𝔯𝔞𝔥𝔪𝔰 ℌ𝔢𝔢𝔩𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔢

Oh, no.. No, no no..

You're putting yourself in risk?! EVERY DAY?!?!... Brahms doesn't like this news. Not one bit.

He will whine and beg you to stay home and will beg to maybe even... come with you? He wants to keep you safe. You're his one and true love, he wouldn't dare lose you.

If you get hurt taking care of business, he will definitely feel like it's his fault. Why would he allow you to go out and work knowing the harm it can cause?!

𝔅𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔏𝔬𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔰

"Well damn mama, I didn't know you had it in 'ya."

Thinks you are so incredibly hot. 10x more than he did before. He wants to see you in action, he'd definitely get a kick out of it.

If you come home from a 'mission' and you're covered in blood.. you'd best believe he's pouncing on you immediately.

𝔖𝔱𝔲 𝔐𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯

At first, he gives you more of a confused look when you drop the info on him, and then of ofcourse he'll stick out his tongue and do that crazed giggle of his. He doesn't believe you for one second.

That is until he sees the look on your face. You are dead serious about this.

"Oh.." he stops and thinks.. "OH!!" "Oh?.."

"Ohh~.." he grins. "You're a killer too, aren't 'ya!?" He's going to be teasing you about this for weeks, maybe even months.

Asks if you're interested in helping him and Billy with some tasks. He'll be sad if you say no, but he gets it.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

I apologize for not doing requests!! I have been incredibly busy with my personal life, and being honest.. I forgot I had tumblr installed.

I will do my best to get to your requests as soon as I can!

Requests ~ ☑️

↳ read my pinned post for further information! xx

[ametistacollinsworld]

𖤓 V, J and N x Child! Realistic Human drone! Reader 𖤓

My 66 request! I hope it's good!!! >:3

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

You don't remember exactly when you were created, who your creator was… or what your purpose was…

You just remember waking up one day with no memories and your entire spaceship shaking violently while the control panel let out several error noises or loud heat warnings that scared you, which made you curl up in the fetal position under one of the control tables and closing your eyes being scared. The next thing you knew, the spaceship crashed hard against the ground, making you hit your head against the table and fly to the ceiling of the spaceship before ending up face down on the floor, which made you whimper.

★ᯓ Some time later ᯓ★

You don't know how long it's been since you arrived at this place, maybe a few hours? You really had no idea.

Luckily (or unluckily) for you, you started to hear the sounds of footsteps approaching where you were, followed by 3 voices that seemed to be discussing something that you unfortunately couldn't hear very well from inside the ship. You soon heard a loud noise coming from the direction where the door was, followed by a loud 'BAM' sound!

"Look for any sign of another group being here. We don't want them to possibly stay in our already designated patrol area. You look inside the spaceship since you're a useless N, while me and V will look around for any clues." A female voice with a superior and somewhat bossy tone spoke loudly followed by a "Right!" feminine voice and an "Okay!" masculine voice.

You huddled further under the table if possible, trying to control your breathing so you wouldn't get caught… Which soon proved useless after a few minutes, as you locked eyes with a pair of yellow eyes belonging to the male murder drone that was now lowered, looking straight at your small, cowering humanoid figure. He seemed to sense your nervousness.

"O-Oh! Hey little one! Y-you… you're not a real human… are you? Uh…" N spoke quickly, rambling softly approaching a hand slowly towards your small figure, the that you pulled away from his touch still feeling scared.

"Oh… I'm sorry little one. I didn't even introduce myself, did I? My name is N! What's your name?" N asked calmly giving you a smile trying to make you feel more comfortable with him.

"(Y/n)…" You said softly looking at him shyly, which he gave you a content smile.

"(Y/n)? What a cool name! How about you come down from there so I can see you better?" N asked with a soft beam, still trying not to scare you, which seemed to work, as you crawled closer to him holding his winter coat in your little hands, which he screamed internally, finding you adorable.

"Okay (Y/n), can I hold you?" N asked with a soft tone stroking your head slowly. You just nodded receiving a happy smile from him, feeling him take you into his arms and hold you against his chest.

"Uh- J? V? I think I found something…" N spoke out loud for the female drones to hear. Some grumbling from the leader was heard.

"I hope it's really important or I'll rip your legs off N!" J spoke in the distance, not seeming to be satisfied with N's vague announcement.

"Oh biscuits-…" N spoke softly seeing the two female drones flying towards the two of you.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ Time break

Well, we can say that J and V were at least surprised by the new discovery made by the male drone, V just watched you from afar with confusion and curiosity… while J didn't even make a sarcastic comment about N! He was safe from J… for now.

"Well? What should we do with them? They're clearly not a real human- at least that's what my sensors indicate… but they still look like a small child…" V spoke with an uninterested tone, but with a hidden hint of worry for what might happen to you if they left you behind.

"Well, my sensors indicate the same result- So I guess it's a fact." J spoke with her grumpy tone, but now with a thoughtful expression as she looked at your small figure who seemed to have fallen asleep. N sighed softly at the words of the two drones.

"S-So? What are we going to do with them? They can't stay here, they're just a kid! Can we keep them?" N asked quickly with a worried expression, not wanting to lose his new friend, meanwhile stroking your hair slowly so as not to wake you, which J rolled her eyes at his actions.

"Of course we'll keep them. Even though they're not a real human, they were still inside the company's spaceship… so they must be one of ours. We must take care of them." J spoke slowly, giving N a look that told him to keep quiet and not interrupt her. V turned away to hide the small smile that formed on her lips, she was happy that you were safe.

"Really?! Thanks J! I'll be the best caretaker in the world!" N initially spoke in an excited tone, but soon calmed down remembering that you were sleeping, giving a happy smile to J and then to your sleeping form.

"Don't thank me. I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing this for the company." J spoke with a tone of disgust, rolling her eyes once again and crossing her arms.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ Time break

We can say that the small group quickly became attached to you, treating you as a true kid to them.

N from the beginning, has adored you, finding you adorable and wanting to take care of you, becoming your full-time caregiver, as well as hunting down Worker drones to feed him and you fresh oil! He almost threw a cute fit when you called him 'Papa' for the first time, so you're definitely a weakness of his. :)

V also thought you were cute from the beginning, but having to maintain the 'feelingless psychopath' mask and try not to interact with you too close to the other two so as not to raise suspicions. When the other two left her to take care of you, she loved to play with you, tickling you or kissing your cheeks, making you laugh. She was touched when you called her 'Mama', thinking you were the cutest thing she could have ever known.

J… well, we can say that she didn't really know what to feel about you, but other than that, she also tried her best to take care of you, whether it was for the company or not, and over time she warmed up and became more protective of you, giving you the title 'Little assassin in training'. She was a little embarrassed when you called her 'Mama' for the first time, but then she liked it and said it was okay if you wanted to call her that.

They were a bit shocked when they discovered the killer part of you on the loose, taking place on one of their many Worker drone hunts, where N was watching you and suddenly you had transformed into something less humanoid and more robotic and was following J and V… and in the blink of an eye you were in front of them both and already ended up with an entire colony alone. They were surprised, but kind of proud too-

Basically 1 new papa and 2 new mamas for you :]

[palms-upturned]

I’m not gonna jump in ppl’s notes over this bc lord knows I do not want to have a debate about it but seeing someone say “I have qualms about people calling Jean ableist for trying to fire Harry and in the same breath saying Harry is unfit for cop work” is really getting to me. I am practically on my knees begging people to actually engage with what disco elysium has to say about disability and addiction and ableism and policing and social murder because it’s not even subtextual, it’s as blatant and hand holding as it could possibly be. The 41st is an awful environment for Harry not bc him being disabled makes him incapable of doing his job, it’s bc the job is fucking hostile to his existence. Like, no one is “fit” to be a cop because they shouldn’t exist, firstly, and even Harry himself will say as much in the Ruby bad ending. But talking about Harry’s case specifically, we know that this job is part of what landed him where he is to begin with.

From the start of day 2:

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — You mean why are you so tired? Too tired and *down* to even think? It *is* worrying, isn't it. You can't be a detective like this -- detectives need to be able to think.

YOU — Why is this happening?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — It's just that your heart has finally pumped all the *speed* out of your system, buster. Time to get some more.

YOU — Wait. What *is*... speed?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Speed is a potent central nervous system stimulant. It kept you propped up all day yesterday despite your debilitating hangover. How else did you think you even got up from this floor?

VOLITION — You got up from this floor because of a holy vow you made sixteen years ago. With *me*. To wake up exactly 07:30 every morning until the day you die.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Don't be silly. There was no vow. You were high on speed. That was the only reason you got up. You can't *detect* without it, it's that simple.

YOU — No. I can take this. I am not going to go looking for speed.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Are you sure? Ready to live as this pathetic shell of yourself for days? Basically a week? Let's be honest -- two weeks, maybe three? You won't make it. Half the town will be dead by then. You will be fired.

YOU — That's a lie. I can do this without the speed. Half the town won't be dead... (Opt out.)

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Suit yourself, slow, sad shell-man. See how you do without your spark.

And from this talk with Kim in Klaasje’s room:

KIM KITSURAGI — "Amphetamine -- does it make you a better detective?"

SUGGESTION — Be honest. He's not grilling you, he just wants to know. Ask if he's ever wanted to take it too.

YOU — "Honestly, it makes me the detective I am. Have you thought of taking it too?"

KIM KITSURAGI — "Maybe I should?" He lets out a little pensive hum, rubbing his shoulder...

DRAMA — It's not insincere. He's actually giving it thought.

KIM KITSURAGI — "Doesn't the... pupils and the gurning jaw, the sweating... doesn't it become tiring after a while?"

YOU — "I understand it's unbecoming but if I don't perform this job well I am nothing. It's the price I pay."

Harry knows that the cost of getting sober would be that the precinct would let him go. They’re not going to have the patience to deal with him slowing down from the combo of withdrawal and no speed to “keep him propped up.” Not when the reason that he’s stayed on the force this long and risen in the ranks is most likely because he manages such a massive caseload, as we find out from Kim:

YOU — "Is two cases a week a good case load, lieutenant?"

KIM KITSURAGI — "Huh?" He raises his nose from his notes. "Two *complex* cases to undertake is a lot, yes. You *really* have to push yourself. I would not suggest it. Lest you start making mistakes."

YOU — "Two cases a week appears to have been my load, lieutenant. I'm not sure I completed them though."

KIM KITSURAGI — "Two?" He raises both eyebrows. "That's a lot. I didn't mean to say you're making mistakes, by the way. That was presumptuous of me."

And later:

KIM KITSURAGI — "This next row -- the one that wraps all the way around -- is your number of closed cases. *Closed* is good. It means finished. You've got, let's see..."

KIM KITSURAGI — "Wow, more than 200!"

YOU — "Is that a lot?"

KIM KITSURAGI — "It's *quite* a lot, even for someone who's been on the force for nearly two decades. Usually clearing more than 10 cases a year puts you in the 90th percentile of *all* RCM officers..."

Despite the trouble Harry makes, he’s considered an asset so long as he closes cases. To the point where he wasn’t punished for drunkenly beating Burke unconscious and then injuring his knee so badly that he can’t walk anymore just because this allowed them to close the “unsolvable case” of Leslie and Burke. 41 and the RCM as an institution don’t care about Harry’s or anyone else’s wellbeing, they care about whether the pros of having him around outweigh the cons.

From the lazareth call with Gottlieb:

YOU — "Isn't there *anything* you can do for me?"

NIX GOTTLIEB — "What, you want me to do blood work for you again, tell you just how bad things really are *across the board*? You want another rundown of everything collapsing inside your body?"

YOU — "Yes. I want the truth!"

NIX GOTTLIEB — "You want the real, honest-to-god truth? Stop drinking, eat magnesium and vitamin D. Our station is not a retirement home. We don't have the funds to deal with *rock stars* past their prime."

RHETORIC — So it's political! You're being *neglected* because of political reasons...

NIX GOTTLIEB — "And no, I *don't* want to hear a *political commentary* on the topic. In fact -- I've got work to do."

If I were to quote every time Gottlieb was notably uncaring or said something blasé about how you probably didn’t have long to live, I’d have to quote pretty much every word of that dialogue. That’s the whole joke with Gottlieb. That’s just how it is dealing with doctors when you’re in Harry’s position.

From talking to Kim about Uuno:

KIM KITSURAGI — "We could take him to Remedie or Saint Batiste, but he doesn't have money for medical services. The Almshouse would turn him down..."

KIM KITSURAGI — "They don't do charity for people who're trying to kill themselves. Besides, he'll be dead in a few..." The lieutenant stops, listening to him.

RHETORIC — ... years? Months? Weeks?

“They don’t do charity work for people who’re trying to kill themselves” really sums up the absurdity of Harry’s situation and institutional responses to it. Harry isn’t seen as the kind of person in crisis who deserves intervention. He’s treated as a lost cause who deserves to suffer the consequences of his self harm, even though the unending crisis and the lack of response to it is what drives him to harm himself and hope that he “gets worse.” If he weren’t a cop, it’s unlikely that Kim would care about him any more than he cares about Uuno and Cuno’s situation. Harry’s job is killing him, but it’s also the only thing that gives him access to anything resembling a community or support network (at least at the start of the game). Again, that’s just the way it goes when you’re disabled.

From the second tribunal:

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "Well -- here is my theory: What if this is an absolutely normal reaction to the world we're living in? What if this is *not* a significant anomaly at all, something to be explained, approached as a defect? Look at the sensory input here..." He gestures toward the scenery.

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "Look at the ruins, the neon, listen to the radio, the multitudes. The people. Live here for forty years... As a police detective, he's like a magnetic reader on the world-tape -- to borrow a known metaphor. Harry's been pushed *flat against it*. Total input."

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "Hard-wired to the free market..." He nods confidently. "He just needed for it to end."

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Okay, Trant, thank you. That's... absolutely meaningless. I'm glad we brought you. Will he or will he not be able to work in the Major Crimes Unit? Is he a cretin now? I want to know *that*."

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "He is *not* a cretin. And he *is* able to do work -- if not in his previous leadership role, then as a line detective."

YOU — "Line detective is good for now."

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "For *now*?" He looks at you, then at Trant. "I misphrased my question. It should have been: Is he able to put his clothes on, and use the potty, or do we need to get him on a disability pension?"

Or, alternatively:

YOU — "He's wrong. I'm too far gone for work."

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Agreed, Harry." He nods. "Just don't expect us to get you a disability pension. Cops who actually gave a shit are waiting in line. You're not gonna hog their seat."

Trant, who, notably, is technically a civilian consultant rather than a cop, (edit: and maybe even more notably, as someone pointed out in the tags, has had experience with addiction, too) suggests to Jean that Harry’s breakdown is a basically inevitable result of his circumstances and the systems that created them, and Jean’s response is that he doesn’t care and all that he wants to know is whether or not Harry can work or if he’s going to be “hogging” resources from other people who are more deserving of help because they “actually gave a shit.” He’s a mouthpiece here for the institutions that he represents and his ableism is blatant and heinous to drive the point home. He denies that Harry’s case is as serious as it is and accuses Harry of faking it, despite the fact that it’s happened (at least) twice before, and very recently:

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "I believe you *drank*. People do that -- you especially. What they don't do is forget their *whole life* because of drinking."

JUDIT MINOT — "But, Detective Vicquemare," she interjects. "He *has* blanked out before."

YOU — "I have?"

JUDIT MINOT — "Yes, a couple of times. After some of the more... serious benders." She pauses, remembering. "One was after the Two Drunks case, the other when we looked into that mural."

REACTION SPEED — The two cases... in your ledger. The Unsolvable Case and the Next World Mural. Those were recent.

And despite the fact that even Gottlieb doesn’t seem shocked about it:

YOU — "I've lost my memory. All of it."

NIX GOTTLIEB — "With all the damage you've been dealing yourself with drugs and alcohol, I'm not surprised."

AUTHORITY — There is no surprise in his voice. Only careless superiority.

DRAMA — It's hard to say if he doesn't believe you -- or doesn't care.

(Considering that Gottlieb’s PSY stat is so high (he’s even eating one of the PSY boosting candies during the call), along with his uncaring responses to all your other problems, it’s more likely the latter.)

Jean also won’t believe that you’re sober even if you haven’t touched so much as a cigarette for your entire playthrough, and even when Judit points out that he’s wrong, he’ll double down and say that it doesn’t matter because you’re going to relapse:

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Even the insect -- I don't care. But you're an *alcoholic*. And you've been drinking -- again. I won't let my life unravel because of this."

JUDIT MINOT — "Jean -- I think he hasn't. I can see it on his face..."

ENDURANCE — The bloating *has* gone down since you woke up that morning...

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Okay, so he's stayed clear for what? A week?" He sighs.

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "It's tough. One of the toughest addictions to overcome. Comparable *only* to heavy synthetic opiates. Even morphine is easier to kick than alcohol -- statistically. The odds are against him. Especially at his age."

JEAN VICQUEMARE — He nods. "He's too old. He's been like this for too long. I've seen him try many times. It's a farce by now."

SUGGESTION — They're leaving. They're all turning away from you.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — No. You can figure it out. *Replace* it! Replace the alcohol with amphetamine. Or GBL! Fuck it -- morphine! Graffito removal agent! Anything. It'll buy you time. All you need is time.

Electrochemistry brings up yet another facet of Harry’s struggles with substances, which is the idea that some of them may be replacements for alcohol. He doesn’t have time or space to try to quit in any way that is remotely healthy. What he has are substances like speed that keep him from collapsing from the strain of it all so that he can keep showing up to work, and other substances that might (he hopes) help him wean himself off the alcohol.

The game explores all of these different factors of Harry’s struggles with addiction and the circumstances that keep him trapped in them exhaustively (and the fact that Robert Kurvitz apparently was recovering from alcoholism during the development probably contributed a lot to that). The structure and culture of the RCM are hugely responsible for Harry’s situation. He’s mocked and berated for being an alcoholic and told repeatedly to get his shit together without actually providing him with the means to do that. Instead, he’s not only enabled but practically forced to keep using just so that he can show up to work at all and not risk losing the only support network he has (even if it’s the shittiest and most unhelpful network imaginable). As Luiga (iirc) said, Harry’s biggest tragedy is that he’s incapable of quitting the force. Many of the reasons for that are genuinely just due to Harry being a class traitor and an asshole, but it’s also true that even if he did want to quit, there is no safety net to catch him.

And then Harry comes to Martinaise, a town that has been “orphaned” by the RCM and neglected by Revachol at large, left mostly to their own devices. It’s not like policing doesn’t still exist in Martinaise, and things are pretty dire for everyone in the community, but at the very least you can see that it is a community. Isobel houses you for free. In Kim’s absence (and after Gottlieb stitches and ditches you), Cuno and Garte take care of you when you’re shot. Acele responds to your breakdown on the ice by saying it’s okay to cry and that you can talk with her about it when you’re ready. Idiot Doom Spiral and co run to your aid when they see you drive your car into the sea and invite you to come drink with them just to stop you from doing it again. Harry discovers that life, while very painful and bleak at times, isn’t necessarily hopeless for the marginalized. You can still find solidarity and support outside of the system.

Meanwhile, if Harry in the end has no one to vouch for him and hasn’t stayed sober, that system will abandon him, a well-known suicide risk with at least one bullet hole in him and severe amnesia, with the promise of nothing but getting served a station call slip. The point is not whether or not Harry “deserves” to be forgiven or even whether he’s a danger to himself and others (to be clear, he is). The point is that this is a system that doesn’t care whether Harry and people like him live or die. That is why, even in a “good” ending where Harry is welcomed back to the 41st, the work won’t be sustainable. It’s going to kill him because that’s what it’s designed to do. The miracle of Martinaise was the realization that he doesn’t have to die. There are people who will help to keep him on this earth. They’re just not members of the fucking RCM.

It’s not a “gotcha” to say that if Jean (and the RCM, and the institutions of Revachol on the whole) is ableist for wanting Harry fired, then saying that cop work is unsustainable for Harry is also ableist. I won’t even say what I personally think of that logic because I’m trying to keep the tone of this post polite. Jean’s dialogue during the tribunal is meant to parrot every bit of ableist rhetoric that the system is built on and that keeps Harry trapped in this hellish feedback loop. He’s a mouthpiece for the general culture of the RCM, just like Gottlieb is a mouthpiece for the shit that addicts and the disabled have to deal with from the medical system. He thinks Harry should be fired because he’s a drunk and therefor a lost cause. The truth is that Harry needs to quit this job because it shouldn’t exist and because it is actively killing him.

In one of Martin Luiga’s articles about the process of creating the game, he brings up the concept of social murder, which is a term coined by Engels:

When one individual inflicts bodily injury upon another such that death results, we call the deed manslaughter; when the assailant knew in advance that the injury would be fatal, we call his deed murder. But when society places hundreds of proletarians in such a position that they inevitably meet a too early and an unnatural death, one which is quite as much a death by violence as that by the sword or bullet; when it deprives thousands of the necessaries of life, places them under conditions in which they cannot live – forces them, through the strong arm of the law, to remain in such conditions until that death ensues which is the inevitable consequence – knows that these thousands of victims must perish, and yet permits these conditions to remain, its deed is murder just as surely as the deed of the single individual; disguised, malicious murder, murder against which none can defend himself, which does not seem what it is, because no man sees the murderer, because the death of the victim seems a natural one, since the offence is more one of omission than of commission. But murder it remains.

None of this is subtext. And all of it is intended to make players actually spare a thought for what it’s like for people in Harry’s situation in real life. For God’s sake, please engage with it. You have to try and understand what it means to be trapped in a life that is made unlivable and to know that your death will be ungrievable. That’s what this whole game is about.

Edit: I’ve seen some ppl say in the tags something like “yeah, I like to imagine a happy ending for Harry, but…” and listen. I am laying a very gentle hand on your shoulders. The point of this post was never to say that there’s no happy ending for Harry. The point is that the first step toward that ending is conceptualizing a life outside of the RCM. In Martinaise, he got a glimpse of what that might look like. Hell, in the bad ending, you can even say to Jean, “fine then. I’ll just live here.” There’s hope for him and for us. I promise.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Nightmare | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: mentions of abuse, descriptions of suicide, canon violence, canon gore, mentions of parental abuse (plsplspls heed these warnings and take care of yourself!!)

Word Count: 7370

A/N: Bye me when I scheduled this to post a day early...... goodnight. lmfao. enjoy!!!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

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While Dean drove and you lounged sleepily in the backseat, Sam was on the phone asking for the identity behind a license plate he’d seen in a dream. Sam had come to wake you up from a peaceful slumber in the middle of the night, shouting that you needed to leave then and there.

He didn’t elaborate much until he got in the car, but even then, his explanation was frantic and disjointed.

“Sammy, relax. I'm sure it's just a nightmare,” Dean tried to coax his brother.

Sam was unconvinced. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I mean it. Y'know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class, nightmare. This license plate, it won't check out. You'll see,” Dean said calmly.

“It felt different Dean. Real. Like when I dreamt about our old house. And Jessica.”

“But in those, you were dreaming about your house, your girlfriend,” you jumped in. “But this guy… have you ever seen him before?”

Sam shook his head.

“Exactly,” Dean answered. “Why would you have premonitions about some random dude in Michigan.”

Sam sighed. “I don't know.” He perked up when the man on the phone began to speak to him again. “Yes, I'm here.” Sam side-eyed you and Dean. “Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. You have a street address?... Got it. Thanks.” Sam hung up. “Checks out. How far are we?”

You sucked in a breath through your teeth. “At least a couple hours.”

“Drive faster,” Sam ordered his brother.

***

When you arrived at the home of the man from Sam’s dream, you were surprised and dismayed to see police cars, ambulance, and a body bag being rolled out of the garage of the home. You looked up at Sam, who was upset, as you walked over to bystanders.

The bystanders explained that Jim Miller had been found in his garage with his engine going and the garage door closed. It had been ruled a suicide. You knew from Sam, though, it wasn’t. Speaking of whom, he walked away from the crowd and back over to the car.

“Sam, you couldn’t have done anything,” you told him.

“Then why am I having these dreams if I can’t stop it?” He sounded agitated, but you knew it was more at the situation than you.

“Sam, we got here as fast as we could,” Dean responded, approaching you and his brother.

Sam shook his head and sighed. “So what do you think killed him?”

“Maybe the guy just killed himself?” the older brother suggested. “Maybe there's nothing supernatural going on at all.”

The younger one shook his head again. “I'm telling you, I watched it happen. He was murdered by something, guys. I watched it trap him in the garage.”

“Did you see what it was?” you questioned.

Sam got a little worked up. “No. I don't know why I'm having these dreams. I don't know what the hell is happening.”

You stared at Sam for a moment, as did Dean.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged. “We’re just… worried about you, dude.”

“Well, don't look at me like that!” Sam was becoming more panicked by the second.

“I'm not looking at you like anything,” Dean responded. “Though, I gotta say, you do look like crap.”

“Nice. Thanks.” Sam made a bitchface.

You opened the door for Sam. “C’mon, dude. Let’s pick this up in the morning.”

“We'll check out the house; talk to the family,” Dean continued.

“Dean, you saw them, they're devastated. They're not going to want to talk to us," you told him.

Dean thought for a moment. “Yeah, you're right. But I think I know who they will talk to."

“Who?”

***

“Are you sure this was necessary?” you asked, tugging at the habit draped over your head; hair itching underneath it. You wore a long sleeve shirt with a knee-length dress over the top. Dean had decided to dress you and his brother in nun and priest outfits respectively. 

“Just trust me,” Dean answered. He rapped his knuckles on the door of the Miller household where they were having Jim MIller’s wake.

Sam sighed. “This has gotta be a whole new low for us.”

“Yeah, but it’s the most put-together your hair’s ever looked,” you smirked, referencing the copious amounts of gel you’d combed through his hair.

Sam deadpanned at you just as the door open.

“Good afternoon. I'm Father Simmons, this is Father Stanley and Sister Frehley. We're new junior clergy over at St Augustine's. May we come in?” Dean introduced.

The man nodded.

“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Sam told the man who had let you inside. 

“It's in difficult times like these when the Lord's guidance is most needed.”

You could hit Dean. He was really laying it on thick.

The man snapped, “Look, you wanna pitch your whole 'Lord has a plan' thing? Fine. Just don't pitch it to me. My brother's dead.”

“Roger. Please!” a blonde older woman scolded from behind him.

“Excuse me.” Roger left.

“I'm sorry about my brother-in-law. He's… he's just so upset about Jim's death. Would you like some coffee?” the woman, who you assumed was the former Mrs. Miller, asked.

“That would be great.”

Dean sat on the couch next to you and Sam took the armchair. Ms. Miller poured each of you a cup. “It was wonderful of you to stop by. The support of the church means so much right now.”

“Of course. After all, we are all god's children,” Dean smiled.

You shot him a look, waiting for the woman to walk away. “Tone it down, Father,” you whispered to him.

Ms. Miller returned before Dean could reply to you, and he instead spoke to her. “So Ms. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression?”

“Nothing like that.” Her voice began breaking. “We had our ups and downs like everyone, but we were happy. I just don't understand… how Jim could do something like this.”

“I'm so sorry you had to find him like that,” Sam told her. 

Ms. Miller looked behind her at a boy leaning against the wall whose face was etched into a scowl. “Actually, our son Max, he was the one who found him.”

“Do you mind if maybe I go talk to him?” Sam asked. 

Ms. Miller smiled. “Oh, thank you, Father.”

You looked around the living room as Sam walked away. “You have a lovely home. How long have you lived here?”

“We moved in about five years ago,” she answered.

“Some of these old houses bring all kinds of headaches,” you continued. “Weird leaks, electrical shortages, odd settling noises at night. That kind of thing.”

Ms. Miller shook her head. “We don’t have any of that. It’s been perfect.”

Dean pursed his lips. “Huh. May I use your restroom?”

“Oh sure, it's just up the stairs,” the woman responded.

Dean stood, taking a cocktail sausage on his way up the stairs.

“I apologize for Father Simmons. He’s… still learning,” you sighed once Dean was out of earshot.

Ms. Miller gave as much of a laugh as she could muster. “It’s okay. He’s got a good heart.”

You smiled at her. “Thank you for your time,” you said, and began discreetly heading up the stairs. 

When you met Dean and Sam on the second floor, they shook their heads indicating they knew the question you were going to ask.

“Seriously?” you chewed the inside of your lip. “Nothing?”

“Zip,” Dean answered. 

“Okay then. Back to square one.”

***

Sam left you and Dean alone in his motel room for a bit to do some research on the Miller home’s history. You helped him clean weapons he’d brought to his and Sam’s motel room. 

You took the floor. You always did. You just liked to sit on the floor as opposed to the itchy quilts that normally adorned the motel beds. And it gave you more space to spread the weapons and cleaning supplies out. Without looking up at Dean as you continued to polish Dean’s handgun, you asked, “So, what’re your thoughts on your brother’s sixth sense?”

Dean blew out a huff of air. “I don’t have any thoughts.” 

“Dean, don’t lie to me. Spill.”

He hesitated. “I just don’t know. I mean, I’m not psychic. My mom wasn’t. My dad isn’t. So where the hell would he have gotten it from?”

“I’m not sure,” you said earnestly, pursing your lips. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Does he scare you? I see the look on your face sometimes, especially over the past few days. I can’t exactly place what it means.”

“Honestly? I don’t know,” he sighed. “I mean, I’ve known this kid his whole life. And suddenly he— he’s predicting people’s deaths? Doesn’t it scare you?”

“Well, there’s the difference. It scares me that he’s going through this, but he doesn’t scare me. He’s still Sam,” you answered.

“Well, yeah. Obviously he’s still Sam. I just— I guess I’m less scared of him and more scared for him. I don’t know.” You could practically see the gears in his head turning.

You stared at him as he continued wiping down his weapons and cleaning the chambers of his guns. You decided the reason why your gut had churned over Cassie in Ohio was because you were used to being the only woman in his life. You loved how honest he was starting to get with you; especially because you didn’t even think he was that honest with himself.

“What?” His question broke your train of thought. 

“Huh?”

He smirked. “You’re staring. See something you like?” 

You scoffed. “You wish. I was thinking.”

“ ‘Bout what?”

“That’s confidential,” you remarked. 

He gave you a look. “Mm-hmm.”

Sam came through the door at that moment.

“What do you have?” Dean asked his brother.

“A whole lotta nothing.” Sam sat on the bed next to your spot on the floor. “Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built.”

“Not even the land?” you questioned.

“No grave yards, battle fields, tribal lands or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property.”

“Hey, man, I told you,” the older brother said, “I searched that house up and down. No cold spots, sulfur scent. Nada.”

“And the family said everything was normal?”

“Yeah, nothing I asked rang any bells for Ms. Miller,” you replied.

“Well, even if there was a demon or poltergeist in there you think somebody would have noticed something?” Dean added. “I used the infer-red thermal scanner man, and there was nothing.”

“So what, you guys think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sorta freakish coincidence?”

“I don’t know. I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house,” Dean answered.

Sam began rubbing his temples. “Yeah. Well, maybe it has nothing to do with the house.” He paused and took a deep breath, holding his head. You straightened up in confusion. “Maybe it's just— Gosh.” Sam was clearly in agony. “Maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way?”

“What’s going on?” you asked.

He started to groan and sink to the floor next to you. “My head.”

You put your hand on Sam’s shoulder to steady him while his brother crouched before him. “Hey! What's going on? Talk to me.” Dean was desperately trying to get his brother’s attention, but it seemed he was zoning further and further out. Sam’s head would have hit the floor if it weren’t for you and Dean holding onto him when he dropped.

“Sam?! Sammy?!” Dean began shaking his younger brother by either side of his face trying to get him to wake up.

You jumped up to go get him a cold towel for his head. While you were in the bathroom searching for a washcloth to dampen, Sam shot up. “It's happening again. Something's gonna kill Roger Miller.”

***

Sam made you and Dean leave pretty much immediately. Dean was trying to remain calm for his brother on the way to Roger Miller’s apartment, but it was clear to you he was beginning to freak out. 

“If you're gonna hurl, I'll pull the car over. Y'know, cause the upholstery…” Dean sassed. 

Sam’s jaw clenched. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Just drive, Dean.” Sam looked over to his brother, huffed out a breath, and looked back to the road. “I'm scared, man. These nightmares weren't bad enough, now I'm seeing things when I'm awake? And these, visions, or whatever, they're getting more intense. And painful.”

Dean briefly looked over to him. “Come on man, you'll be alright. It'll be fine.”

“What is it about the Millers? Why am I connected to them, why am I watching them die? Why the hell is this happening to me?”

“We’ll figure it out, Sam,” you assured him. 

“We've faced the unexplainable every day,” the older brother added. “This is just another thing.”

The brunet shook his head. “No. It's never been us. It's never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can't tell me this doesn't freak you out.”

You looked at Dean expectantly.

“This doesn't freak me out.”

You leaned over the seat and hugged Sam around the shoulders, and you could feel some of the tension leave his body as you did so. 

***

You and the boys were just a second too late. Roger wouldn’t let you into the apartment building, so you opted to sprint up the fire escape. In the midst of you running up the steps, you heard metal grating against metal and a wet squelching noise.

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered, urging yourself to go faster. You made it up the stairs just before the other two could and discovered Roger’s head lying below his apartment window in a flower box. Your stomach churned, but you knew you had to get out of there quickly. 

“Start wiping down your fingerprints,” Dean told you and Sam, holding out his bandana to his brother, “we don't want the cops to know we were here. Come on, come on!”

You used your jacket sleeve to push up the window of the apartment that led to the fire escape. “Dean, I’m gonna take a look inside. You coming?”

He followed you in to quickly search the apartment before you hit the road once more. Just like at the Miller’s house, you saw nothing.

“I saw something, in the vision,” Sam explained once you’d gotten back to the car. “Like a dark shape. Something was— something was stalking Roger.”

“Whatever it was, are you sure it's not connected to their house?” Dean questioned. 

“No, it's connected to the family themselves. So what do you think, like a vengeful spirit?”

“I mean, potentially,” you responded. “Some spirits ‘ll latch onto families, follow ‘em for years—”

“Angiak, Banshees,” Sam added. 

“Basically like a curse. So maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy, something curse worthy.”

“And now the something is out for revenge,” Sam continued. “And the men in their family are dying.”

“Hey, you think Max is in Danger?” you asked.

“Let's figure it out before he is.” Dean drove faster.

“Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people,” the brunet continued.

“What's that?”

“Both our families are cursed.”

‘Oh, shit,’ you thought.

Dean huffed. “Our family's not cursed! We just… had our dark spots.”

Sam snorted. “Our dark spots are… pretty dark.”

Dean’s face scrunched uncomfortably. “You're.... dark.”

“I think you guys are just weird,” you laughed.

“You’re… weird.”

“Dean, I feel like I’m listening to your brain short-circuit in real time.”

“Shut up, (Y/N).”

***

You and the boys went back to the Millers’ house dressed in your priest and nun outfits. The shifty boy from the funeral that Sam had talked to opened the door. 

“My mom's resting, she's pretty wrecked,” he explained. “All these people kept coming with like, casseroles? I finally had to tell them all to go away. You know cause nothing says I'm sorry like a tuna casserole.”

Sam smiled sadly, and Max smiled back. He gestured to the living room and all of you took a seat.

“How are you holding up?” you asked the boy.

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Your dad and your uncle were close,” Sam added.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out all the time when I was little.” Max’s tone made him seem uncomfortable, and something about him had you uneasy, too.

“But not lately?”

“No, it's not that. It's just… we used to be neighbors when I was a kid,” Max explained. “We lived across town in this house. Uncle Roger lived next door, so he was over all the time.”

Sam nodded. “So how was it in that house when you were a kid?”

A look of surprise crossed Max’s face. “It was fine. Why?”

“All good memories?” Dean pressed further. “Do you remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle maybe?”

Max shook his head. “What do ya....why do you ask?”

Red flags were popping up in the back of your mind repeatedly. Your hands clenched your skirt tightly. 

“Just a question,” Dean answered.

“No, there was nothing. We were totally normal. Happy.”

“Good. That's good. Well you must be exhausted. We should take off.” Something in Dean’s voice told you that he was sensing the same things you were.

***

Once you were back at the motel and changed, you went to the boys’ room.

“Guys, something is not right about the way Max was acting,” you said.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean responded. “I think we gotta go visit that house.”

***

And so, you did. The three of you headed to the edge of town to visit Max’s childhood home. 

You found a man outside of his home tending his garden when you and the boys arrived at the Millers’ old home. “Have you lived in the neighborhood very long?” Dean asked.

The man responded, “Yeah, almost twenty years now. It's nice and quiet. Why, you looking to buy?”

You shook your head. “No, no, actually, we were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street I believe.”

“Yeah the Millers. They had a little boy called Max,” the older Winchester added.

“Yeah, I remember. The brother had the place next door. So, uh, what's this about, is that poor kid ok?” the man asked you.

You tilted your head in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“Well, in my life I've never seen a child treated like that. I mean I'd hear Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street; he was a mean drunk. He used to beat the tar outta Max. Bruises. Broke his arm two times that I know of.”

Your heart clenched. You knew exactly what that was like.

“This was going on regularly?” Sam inquired. 

“Practically every day,” the older man explained. “In fact, that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy. But the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times. Never did any good.”

“Now you, said step-mother.”

The older man looked off as if remembering. “I think his real mother died. Some sorta… accident. Car accident I think,” the man responded.

Sam raised a hand to his head and grimaced. 

You turned your head to him. “You okay?”

Sam winced but nodded nonetheless.

“Thank you for your time,” you told the man you’d been talking to. You then began to help Dean toward the car. Once you’d gotten him settled inside, his head lolled back against the seat. While Dean drove, you leaned over the backseat to keep an eye on Sam.

When he woke back up, he said, “Max is doing it. Everything I've been seeing.”

“What? How do you know?” you questioned.

“I saw him,” the brunet replied.

“How's he pulling it off?” Dean jumped in.

‘I don't know, like telekinesis?”

‘What, so, he's psychic? A spoon bender?” 

“I didn't even realize it but this whole time, he was there. He was outside the garage when his Dad died, he was in the apartment when his Uncle died. These visions, this whole time— I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is I don't get why, man. I guess— because we're so alike?” You could see Sam’s mind racing.

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed frustratedly. “What? He’s nothing like you, dude.”

“Well. We both have psychic abilities, we both…”

Dean gruffly cut his brother off. “Both what? Sam, Max is a monster, he's already killed two people, now he's gunning for a third.”

“Well, with what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people? I'm sorry, man, I hate to say it, but it's not that insane.”

“Sam, that doesn’t justify murdering your entire family,” you responded. You knew that better than anybody. 

“(Y/N)...”

Dean pulled over in front of the Millers’ current home. “He's no different from anything else we've hunted, all right? We gotta end him.”

“We're not going to kill Max,” Sam protested.

“Then what? Hand him over to the cops and say 'Lock him up officer; he kills with the power of his mind’?” You nearly laughed at Dean’s response despite the situation.

“No way. Forget it.”

Dean turned the engine off and faced his brother.

“Dean, He's a person. We can talk to him. Hey, promise me you'll follow my lead on this one,” Sam pleaded.

The older brother paused. “Alright, fine. But I'm not letting him hurt anybody else.” He removed his signature Taurus pistol from the glove compartment. You grabbed yours from under your seat and shoved it into your jeans. 

You and the boys practically broke into the home. 

Mrs. Miller and Max were standing in the kitchen. Both seemed upset. “Fathers?” Mrs. Miller asked. “Sister?”

Max gritted his teeth. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Dean said. 

“Max, can we, uh, can we talk to you outside for just one second?” Sam asked.

The boy seemed suspicious. “About what?”

“It's— It's private. I wouldn't want to bother your mother with it,” answered the brunet. “We won't be long at all though, I promise.”

Max nodded and went to follow you out the front door. Before Dean could open the door, the doorknob pulled out of his hands. 

“You're not priests!” Max yelled. Dean went to draw his pistol, but Max pulled it away with his powers and slid it across the floor to himself. He pointed the gun at you and the brothers, and you quickly drew yours.

“Max, what's happening?” Ms. Miller asked, voice shaking. 

“Shut up,” the boy gritted through his teeth. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I said, shut up!” Max flung his step-mother across the room, and she hit her head on the kitchen counter. The blonde crumbled to the ground unconscious.

“Max, calm down,” Sam urged, trying to gesture to you to put your gun down.

“Who are you?” Max’s eyes pooled with angry tears.

“We just wanna talk.”

“Yeah, right, that’s why you brought these!” He indicated the gun he was holding as well as yours.

“That was a mistake all right? So was lying about who we were. But no more lying Max ok? Just please, just hear me out.”

“About what?” the teen’s voice calmed down only slightly.

“I saw you do it. I saw you kill your dad and your uncle before it happened,” Sam explained.

Max faltered.

“I'm having visions, Max. About you.”

The boy laughed coldly. “You’re crazy.”

“So what, you weren't gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?” Sam tapped his eye. “Right here? Is it that hard to believe, Max, look what you can do. Max, I was drawn here all right? I think I'm here to help you.”

Max began to cry harder. “No one can help me.”

“Let me try. We'll just talk, me and you. We'll get Dean, (Y/N), and Alice out of here,” Sam said.

“No way,” you and Dean said in unison.

The chandelier above you began to shake. “Nobody leaves this house!”

“Max, c’mon, dude, let Sam and I talk to you. We’ll send Dean and your stepmom upstairs, and I’ll put this away,” you said, referring to your gun.

“Look, Max. You're in charge here, alright, we all know that,” Sam told him. “No one's going to do anything that you don't want to do but we’re talking five minutes here man.”

“Five minutes?” Max looked over to Dean. “Go.”

Dean rushed to Ms. Miller and gently brought her upstairs. Dean took one last look at you and Sam before going upstairs.

“Look, I can't begin to understand what you went through—”

You cut Sam off. “I can.”

Max looked at you, surprised and angry. “How?”

“My parents did the same thing your dad and stepmom did to you,” you explained. “But I’m not gonna kill somebody over it. This has to stop, dude.”

“It will, after my stepmother—”

“Do you really think that’s gonna stop it?” you asked. “Really?”

He stared at you, and you felt you were beginning to get through to him. 

“Does it feel different now that your dad and uncle are gone? Do you feel better?” you pressed further.

“No, but it will,” spat Max through his tears.

“I don’t think so, kid,” you replied. “It doesn’t feel different for me. My parents are dead and gone, and it still fucking hurts.”

“Yeah, but at least you don’t have to look at them every day.”

“Can I be honest with you though? I wish I could. No matter how many times my dad hit me, I still want his approval. I still want to see him again.”

Max shook his head. “Not me. I’m happy my dad’s gone. You haven’t been beaten in a while, huh?”

You replied, “No.”

“Try last week.” He lifted up his shirt to reveal a large bruise littering his ribcage. “My dad still hit me. Just in places people wouldn't see it. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said softly.

“When I first found out I could move things it was a gift. My whole life I was helpless but now I had this. So last week Dad gets drunk. The first time in a long time. And he beats me to hell, first time in a long time. And then, I knew what I had to do,” Max explained.

“Why didn't you just leave?” you asked.

“It wasn't about getting away. Just knowing they would still be out there. It was about… not being afraid. When my Dad used to look at me, there was hate in his eyes. Do you know what that feels like?” Max asked you and Sam.

“Yeah, I do,” you replied.

“He blamed me for everything. For his job, for his life, for my Mom's death,” Max continued.

Sam’s interest was piqued. “Why would he blame you for your Mom's death?”

Your breath caught in your throat when Max gave his explanation. “Because she died in my nursery, while I was asleep in my crib. As if that makes it my fault.”

“She died in your nursery?” Sam questioned.

“There was a fire. And he'd get drunk and babble on like she died in some insane way. He said that she burned up. Pinned to the ceiling!” 

You discreetly looked to Sam. 

“Listen to me, Max. What your dad said, about what happened to your Mom. It's real,” Sam told the boy. “It happened to my Mom too, exactly the same. My nursery, my crib, my dad saw her on the ceiling.”

Max laughed coldly. “Your dad must have been as drunk as mine.”

“No, no. It's the same thing, Max. The same thing killed our mothers.” You could tell Sam was excited by the missing puzzle piece being filled in. “This must be why I'm having visions during the day. Why they're getting more intense. 'Cause you and I must be connected in some way. Your abilities, they started six, seven months ago, right, out of the blue?”

“How'd you know that?” Max tried to remain calm, but you could tell he was intrigued.

“Cause that's when my abilities started, Max,” Sam went on. “Yours seem to me much further along but still, this has to mean something right? I mean for some reason, you and I… you and I were chosen.”

Max’s tears subsided. “For what?”

The younger Winchester sighed, “I don't know. But (Y/N), my brother, and I; we're hunting for your Mom's killer. We can find answers, answers that can help us both. But you gotta let us go, Max. You gotta let your stepmother go.”

The boy thought for a moment. “No. What they did to me? I still have nightmares. I'm so scared all the time, like I'm just waiting for that next beating. I'm so sick of being scared all the time, I just want this to be over!”

“Max, it won’t. Don’t you get it?” You were incredulous. Had he not been listening at all? “The nightmares won’t end, dude. They still wake me up screaming. Killing your stepmom isn’t gonna fix anything. I know, dude. Trust me on this one. Please.”

“I’m sorry.” The tears returned to his eyes and a twisted smile crossed his features before you were flying through the air and into the closet. The doors slammed shut on you, and you saw a heavy piece of furniture covering the place where the two doors met.

You and Sam began banging on the doors. “Max, no! Goddamn you!”

To make matters worse, Sam started holding his head and his eyes rolled back in their sockets. When he came back-to, he shouted, “No, NO!” And the heavy furniture moved from holding back the closet doors.

You and Sam froze, staring at each other for a moment before pushing the doors open and sprinting up the stairs. You busted through the door to the bedroom you could hear Dean’s voice coming from.

“No, don't! Don't! Please. Please,” Sam begged him. You noticed the gun trained on Dean who stood in front of Ms. Miller. “Max. Max. We can help you. Alright.”

“Kid, I know it fucking sucks,” you continued. “But this, what you're doing, it's not the solution. It's not gonna fix anything.”

Max was suddenly a mess. His shaking hands and sweating forehead became more apparent to you as his face contorted in agony. Suddenly, he relaxed. “You're right.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, but way too soon. The gun swung around to point at Max and he shot himself squarely between the eyes.

“No!” Sam cried, and you covered your mouth with your hand.

Ms. Miller began to cry looking at her stepson collapsed on the floor. You looked up at Dean and held his gaze before crossing the room to hug him. You felt his body relax for a moment before you pulled away from him. You moved to Ms. Miller. 

“I’m so sorry,” you told her. You opened your arms to her and she collapsed into you. You held her while Sam and Dean called the police and paramedics.

You helped Ms. Miller down the stairs to her couch to answer questions for the police, and sat by holding her hand the whole way through. The woman seemed unable to focus her vision as she spoke. “Max attacked me. He threatened me with a gun.”

“And these three?” The officer gestured to you, Sam, and Dean with the end of his pen.

“They're… family friends. I called them as soon as Max arrived, I was scared. They tried to stop him. They fought for the gun.” She looked over at the boys and squeezed your hand.

“Where did Max get the gun?”

Ms. Miller began to cry and looked up at the ceiling. “I don't know. He showed up with it and—” The poor woman began to break down.

“It’s okay, Alice,” you told her, bringing her back into a hug.

“I've lost everyone,” she sobbed into your shoulder, and you smoothed a hand over the back of her hair. 

The cop addressed you next. “We'll give you a call if we have any further questions.”

You nodded. You looked to the boys. Sam’s face was set in his puppy-dog stare, and Dean had a look on his face you couldn’t quite read. Dean jerked his head to gesture toward the car before leading Sam out of the home.

You gave Ms. Miller one final hug, and told her to call you if she needed anything. As her tears subsided, she thanked you. You left her alone in her house, and your heart broke for her. As broken as her family had been, she was truly all alone now. That wrecked you completely.

“If I'd just said something else; gotten through to him somehow…” you trailed off once you’d made your way to the car.

“Don’t do that,” Dean told you.

“Do what?”

“Torture yourself. It wouldn't have mattered what you said, Max was too far gone.” You didn’t find comfort in that at all.

“When I think about how he looked at us, man, right before. I shoulda done something,” Sam added.

“Come on, man, you risked your life. I mean, yeah, maybe if we had gotten there twenty years earlier,” Dean sassed.

The three of you moved to your respective sides of the Impala.

“Well, I'll tell you one thing. We're lucky we had Dad,” Sam said.

Dean was astounded. “Well, I never thought I'd hear you say that.”

The younger brother laughed. “It could’ve gone a whole other way after Mom. A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we would've had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out ok. Thanks to him.”

Dean looked back to the Miller’s house. “All things considered.”

You leaned against the car’s door and curled up on your seat. Your mind raced from the scene you’d just left. Ms. Miller reminded you so much of your mom. And now, she was alone. Then there was Max. If only you could’ve said something else. And your brother. You thought of him, too. Maybe he realized that even though your parents were dead, the memories didn’t go away. Maybe that was the reason he took his own life, not the fact that you’d killed your parents. Maybe if you would have spoken to him differently, he would still be here. You wouldn’t be all alone, just like Ms. Miller. Maybe if you’d—

“(Y/N), I’m sorry about your dad,” Sam broke you out of your thoughts.

You shook your head. “It’s fine.” You didn’t mean to come off rudely, but you knew your tone had been cold. You could see Dean looking at you in the rearview mirror out of the corner of your eye. You chose to ignore him, and kept looking out the window.

You and the boys arrived back at the motel soon after. Night had fallen, and the three of you decided you needed some sleep before hitting the road. Once you’d showered and changed into your pajamas which consisted of an oversized band t-shirt and underwear, you heard a knock on the door. 

You opened it to reveal Dean, and surprise overtook you. “What’s up?”

Dean raked his eyes over your body briefly and realized you’d forgotten to put pants on. “Uh, nothing, I just— uh.”

You quirked a brow at him. “You just?”

“Sam told me what you told Max. Thought maybe you’d wanna talk about it.”

“Aw, Dean, how sweet. Are we gonna hug?” you threw a line at him he’d used on you and Sam multiple times. 

He rolled his eyes and scratched the back of his neck. “Nevermind,” he muttered and began to walk away.

“Wait,” you said. He turned back to you and you let him into your motel room. You and Dean sat on the floor and leaned against your bed. 

“So…” you began.

“So…” he echoed.

“What do you wanna know?” you opted for asking, not sure how to begin this conversation.

“What happened to you?”

You sighed. “My dad was just… way too hard on me. And Bubba, too. He just… if we weren’t doing something right, he’d give ‘physical punishments’ to help us correct our form. He said it was because he wanted to keep us safe. Like, when I was learning to shoot and I would miss, he’d hit my hands with the butt of whatever gun I was shooting with. Hard. He said I’d remember the feeling and it’d fix my aim. And I hate to say it, but he was right. I rarely miss a shot.” You paused, thinking of another example. “When he’d go to hit Stevie, though, I always got in the way. Which he’d then hit me for another reason. He said it was because he needed to teach my brother a lesson and I shouldn’t get in the way of the natural consequence. My brother was always bigger and stronger than me even though he was two years younger. He made us spar all the time. And if he saw either of us holding back, my dad would spar us. And he didn’t hold back at all.” You drew in a shaky breath. “I was always the smallest in the family. He made sure I stayed super thin when I was little so I could always squeeze into tight spaces. I’m pretty sure that had he not, I’d be a lot taller than I am. Maybe could pack on some more muscle, too.”

Dean just stared at you, unsure of what to say.

“And you wanna know the worst part?”

He nodded.

“I don’t even hate him for it. I wish I could. But he’s my dad, y’know? The good times were always really good. I know he cared about me and Bubba. I just… he didn’t know how to show it, is all.”

“(Y/N), I don’t know a damn thing about love, but that sure as hell ain’t it,” Dean responded. 

“I don’t know, Dean, I really haven’t seen much better examples anywhere else in my life,” you laughed uncomfortably. “I mean, hunting isn’t exactly a profession you can have relationships in. And hookups just aren’t for me; they make me feel like garbage.”

“I get it,” he answered.

“No, way, dude. You’re king of hookup kingdom,” you sassed.

“I’m serious! I wasn’t always. I’ve always… loved girls, y’know, but I didn’t always know what to do with ‘em. And some of ‘em you can just tell are using you. Even if I’m doing the same thing to them, it doesn’t feel great.”

Your gaze softened. “Then why do you keep doing it to yourself?”

“It’s a great way to blow off some steam. Besides, it’s so fun, why the hell would I stop?”

“Good point,” you shrugged. 

The two of you sat in silence for a minute. 

“How the hell did we go from talking about my dad hitting me to your sex life?”

He laughed. “I have no idea. But, uh, I’m sorry all that happened to you.”

“Meh, I’ll get over it. Eventually,” you shrugged.

“I know you didn’t tell me the worst parts, though,” he said.

“How?”

“You get this look on your face when you’re talkin’ about something that really upsets you. Like your parents’ death. That’s the only time I’ve ever seen you hurt that bad,” Dean explained. “Anyway, if you ever do wanna talk about it...”

“I know,” you smiled softly. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You and Dean talked for hours on the floor of your room. His shoes were abandoned somewhere, his button-up had been abandoned, and you were several rounds of Texas Hold-Em deep. You played with bullets instead of poker chips; it was all you had on hand.

You laughed at some stupid joke Dean had made as you called. A ten of hearts, seven of clubs, and nine of clubs laid before you and Dean on the ground.

He hummed. “Raise.”

You flipped up the top card. Ace of spades. ‘Fuck.’ But you wouldn’t let Dean win.

“Bet.”

“Raise.”

You flipped up the last card. Six of hearts. You fought the smile trying to work its way onto your face. “Bet.”

Dean eyed you, and you eyed him right back. You stared at each other intensely until he finally said, “Fold.”

“Yes!” You said triumphantly, falling back to the floor. 

“Yeah, whatever, we’re not even playing for real money.”

“You’re just butthurt you got beat, Winchester,” you retorted. “Don’t be a baby.”

He made a face at you. “I’m not.”

“You are totally pouting right now, dude, just admit it.”

“Am not.”

“Are, too.”

“Am not.”

“Are, too.”

“Fine,” Dean conceded. “It’s just ‘cause I’m tired; that’s the only reason you beat me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure. Then let’s go to a casino together sometime. We could definitely use the cash. And you’re not half-bad.”

He smirked at you. “You’re on.”

You walked him to the door after having decided he needed to go to sleep since he was driving. 

“Goodnight, Dee.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You ignored the way his nickname was beginning to make your heart flip.

***

You and Dean had apparently not decided to go to bed early enough, and you both yawned as you packed up the car. 

“Dean, I've been thinking,” Sam told his brother.

“Well that's never a good thing,” he yawned in response.

“I'm serious. I been thinking, this demon, whatever it is. Why would it kill Mom, and Jessica, and Max's mother, you know? What does it want?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, you think, maybe, it was after us? After Max and me?”

“Why would you think that?”

“I mean, either telekinesis or premonitions, we both had abilities, you know? Maybe he was, he was after us for some reason.”

Dean slammed the trunk shut. “Sam. If it had wanted you, it would've just taken you. Okay? This is not your fault, it's not about you.” He headed back into the motel room, and you and Sam followed him.

“Then what is it about?”

“It's about that damn thing that did this to our family. The thing that we're gonna find, the thing that we're gonna kill. And that's all.”

“Actually there's uh... there's something else too.”

Dean turned back around. “Ah, jeez. What?”

“When Max left me and her in that closet, with that big cabinet against the door... I moved it.”

“Huh. You got a little more upper body strength than I gave you credit for,” Dean remarked.

“No man, I moved it. Like, Max.”

“He’s not lying,” you affirmed.

Dean paused for a few moments. “Right.” He picked up a spoon from the nightstand. “Bend this.”

Sam deadpanned, “I can’t just turn it on and off, Dean.”

“Well, how'd you do it?” 

“I don't know, I can't control it. I just— I saw you die and it just came out of me, like a, like a punch. You know like… a freak adrenaline thing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure it won’t happen again,” Dean replied.

“Yeah, maybe. Aren't you worried, man? Aren't you worried I could turn into Max or something?” Sam was unconvinced.

The older brother shook his head. “Nope. No way. You know why? ‘Cause you got one advantage Max didn't have. Two, actually.”

“Dad? Because Dad's not here, Dean.”

“No. Me.” He smirked. “And her. As long as we’re around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you.”

Sam smiled a little and his puppy dog eyes returned.

Dean slung his bag over his shoulder and began pushing you and Sam out the door. “Now then. I know what we need to do about your premonitions. I know where we have to go.”

“Where?”

“Vegas.”

Sam rolled his eyes and walked out the door to the car.

“What? Come on man. Craps tables. We'd clean up!” Dean tried.

You laughed. “Dean could use your help with Texas Hold ‘Em, too.”

“Can it, (Y/N).”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Hope, you are having a good day/night?

I don't know if this is your thing or not?

BAU Team x Male reader (who is hiding a pretty big secret) they get a case where people are killed either with silver bullets or wolf's bane but only some are different like the unsub took trophies the way a hunter would (teeth,claws, some even skinned which was even weirder) reader is the only one who knows what's going on because he's been on the run from people like them hunter! What happened when the team find out his secret? Does he get captured by the people he's been running from? The people that have caused him so much pain/anger/anxiety over the years?

Hiya! This has been in my inbox for so long, I'm so sorry! I took it in a slightly different direction but hope you like it nonetheless!

Also, disclaimer, werewolf knowledge is from the tv show teen wolf lol

Warnings: mentions of murder and taking trophies

This wasn’t good. Not good at all. It was clearly the work of a hunter. A dozen werewolves had been killed in less than two weeks. You had spent your life trying to run from people like them, and here they were. The team could sense your unease, but no one commented.

Each victim was missing a tooth, a canine. Each victim had been killed with a silver bullet to the heart. The teeth were removed after death, the only wound on their bodies being that of the bullet wound. It meant the hunter was mission oriented. It was unnerving. It wasn’t like these people had killed anyone – werewolves very rarely do.

And now, instead of running, you had to go towards the danger. You knew it would probably be fine, the likelihood of the hunter finding out you were also a werewolf was slim to none, but that did little to soothe the anxiety. You couldn’t exactly tell the team – one, they would think you were actually insane, and two, it would just put them in danger.

It wasn’t until the next body that turned up, that Hotch took you to the side. “Whatever you know, you need to tell me.”

“Hotch-“

“(Y/N). I’m sure you have your reasons for keeping it to yourself, but we need to know.”

You study Hotch closely for a moment. “The unsub’s a hunter.”

“We know he hunts his victims like a hunter-“

“No, Hotch. An actual hunter.” You said. “You’re going to think I’m insane for this, but he’s hunting werewolves.”

“Werewolves?”

“Yeah.” You said, watching him closely, waiting for him to laugh, brush you off, or tell you to get a psych eval.

“Prove it.” Is all he says, which you were obviously expecting him to.

You debate internally for a few seconds, trying to figure out if this was really something you wanted to reveal about yourself. You sigh, looking at Hotch, concentrating for a moment and letting your eyes flash yellow

“Holy-“ Hotch takes a step closer, getting a better look at your eyes. “You’re a-?”

“Yeah.” You said.

“Wow…” He said, “For how long?”

“Birth,” You said, giving a small shrug. “For the most part, it runs in families.”

“How so?”

You pause, trying to think of the best way of putting it, letting your eyes return to normal. “It just is. Either you get bitten or your born with it. But one of your parents have to be one.”

“Which one of yours?”

“Both.” You said with a small grin.

“So this hunter, he’s not the only one?”

“No, there’s a lot of them. Hundreds, at least.” You said, “Using silver to get the job done.”

“The silver thing’s actually true?”

You nod, “Yep, and wolf’s bane.” You paused, “You’re not going to try and kill me now, are you?”

Hotch gave a small snort, “No, don’t worry.” He rolled his eyes slightly, “Wait, is that why we found wolf hairs on the bodies?”

“Yeah.” You answer, watching him debate asking a question. “Go for it.”

“If this hunter shoots you with a silver bullet…”

“Oh, I’m gone for.” You said, “Like gone, gone.”

Rolling his eyes slightly, Hotch asked his next question: “Do you, like, turn into a wolf every full moon?”

“That’s a complicated question. It can technically happen any time emotions are high if I don’t, like, control it or whatever. But it’s harder to control on full moons, like I’ll get snappy and agitated. But it always feels better to turn on a full moon – even if it’s just for a little bit.”

“So when Morgan won that arm wrestle…”

“I had to let him have something,” You grinned.

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 14

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: ⚠️smut 18+⚠️ murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, homophobic slang, explicit boyxboy, oral (male and fem! receiving), fingering (fem! receiving), the word "rapist" is used once as a joke by Stu way before any smut begins, p in v, safe sex, foul language, voyeurism (?)

Part 1

The car purred as they drove down the highway. You were cuddled up in the back with Stu as Billy drove home. "Do you love me?" The question was so random Billy almost thought he was hearing things. "Huh?" Stu patted your hair as he looked out the window. "It's fine if you don't, I just wanted to know." It wasn't fine if he didn't. Stu knew he loved Billy unconditionally. It was almost obsessive the way he adored that boy. As Stu looked at your sleeping form he started to think about how he felt like he loved you. It wasn't the same sort of love he had for Billy. No, he hadn't known you long enough to feel that way. Stu would kill for you but that didn't mean much coming from him. He knew if a car was coming towards you he'd push you out of the way even if it meant killing him. Was that love or just being suicidal?

Billy looked at his friend in the mirror seeing his gaze focused outside. "Why would you ask that?" Billy wasn't mad or upset by the question just startled. He didn't do feelings. Sure, he had them but he wishes he didn't. They tend to overcomplicate things.

"I don't see how this relationship is going to work out if you don't love me. I've seen the way you look at her. Tonight when we were playing games at the arcade you stared at her like she was the only person on earth. You don't look at me like that. I-I just need to know if it's because I'm not new or you don't love me."

His words were strange to Billy. Never in their expansive time of knowing each other did they have heart to hearts. Billy was raised not to cry and not to reach out. Being upset meant you were acting like a child. "To be honest I don't know." Billy tried to pick his words carefully not because he was trying to manipulate but rather because he was trying to tell the truth. After so many lies he found it hard to understand what the truth was. "You don't know?" Stu couldn't grasp how someone couldn't know if they were in love or not.

"I don't know. I thought I loved Sydney but maybe I did get bored. You know that scares the shit out of me. Getting tired of you and Y/n? What if I wake up one day and the smell of her cooking disgusts me? What- what if I can't stand the sound of your voice anymore? I don't want to lose this. I had the best time of my fucking life tonight but oh it might not matter down the road because I got too comfortable." Billy's hand hit the steering wheel in anger. The more Billy talked the more he pissed himself off. Stu tilted his head like a dog processing everything he just learned. "You love us." Stu said a smile playing at his lips. Billy's face contorted in confusion. He just hit the steering wheel in anger but Stu was in the back seat blushing.

"How do you know?" Billy turned the corner focusing back on the road. "If you're worried about losing us then obviously you love us at least a little bit." Billy doubted it was that simple. Nothing ever was. Stu was always an optimistic person. He thought everything would work out eventually. That's not how life worked. "If you say so." The car pulled into the driveway and then the garage. "She's still asleep should I wake her up?" Billy shook his head. "No she's been taking care of our asses all week she needs the rest. Just pack her upstairs and put her to bed." Stu gently pulled you out of the car carrying you like a bride into the house.

Carefully he made it up the steps watching so he wouldn't accidentally hit your head. He nudged your bedroom door open with his boot trying not to make too much noise. Stu laid you in bed as comfortably as he could. You looked so peaceful to him. He pulled the covers up over you making sure to tuck you in. Stu pressed a kiss to your forehead before he left the room shutting the door behind him.

"She still asleep?" Billy asked as he folded up the basket of laundry you left out. "I thought she was dead for a second." The joke went over Billy's head causing concern. "I'm kidding she's fine. She drools in her sleep." Stu said making Billy laugh. "Did you have fun tonight?" The dark-haired boy was trying to make this work. Stu sat on the couch leaving Billy to fold up clothes. "I had a wonderful time especially since I absolutely demolished your ass in Mortal Kombat." Billy just rolled his eyes telling himself he let his partner win. "You looked good tonight." Stu glanced up in shock. He wasn't the complimenting type and he sure as hell never complimented Stu.

Billy kept his eyes on the clothes not wanting to make eye contact with Stu. This was what actual couples did right? "Thank you." The room was silent. Stu thought of his words before he said them. "You looked handsome tonight too." Handsome. The word made something turn inside Billy. For a second it felt like he couldn't breathe. Maybe he was going to vomit? "Thanks." Was all Billy could come with. It was unbearably awkward but Stu couldn't help but smile. "Do you need help folding? I can't do shirts but I can do pants."

You woke up in a hot sweat. It felt like you had died. If someone asked what year it was you couldn't tell them. The last thing you remember was eating food at a restaurant with Billy and Stu. "Damnit." You rubbed your eyes trying to see in the dark room. The clock said it was 11 o'clock but it felt like you'd been asleep for days. You threw on an unflattering nightgown before you headed downstairs. The boys laughed while watching some loud TV show.

"She's alive!" Stu exclaimed like he was Dr. Frankenstein. "How'd you sleep?" Billy asked looking at your disheveled state. "Water." You rasped walking like the grim reaper over to the sink. Cold tap water seemed to coat your throat helping you wake up just a little bit more. You walked over to the couch throwing yourself on top of the men. "What are you watching?" You asked as Stu giggled at some guy getting hit over the head on screen. "The Monkees! It comes on your old lady channel. I haven't seen it since I was a kid." You looked over at Billy seeing him shrug his shoulders. "He's been laughing for the past 30 minutes."

"You're not hard to please huh?" Stu pinched the tip of your nose. "Obviously not, I'm with you aren't I?" You faked a laugh as you stared at the tv. Stu's hand ran up and down your leg just like it had the first night they came over. His eyes were glued to the TV laughing every time something even remotely funny happened. Billy would chuckle just because his friend was laughing. There was something different between them but you couldn't put your finger on it. The date night you had might've had some effect. All three of you felt closer, it felt more normal if that was even a possibility.

"I think I want to have sex with you two." You blurted making both men freeze. You immediately covered your face regretting speaking. "Like right now?" Stu asked ready to strip. "No, well, oh I don't know." You groaned with embarrassment. Billy stayed quiet letting you say everything you wanted to. You sat up on the couch looking at the two men sitting beside each other. "Couples have sex right?" They nodded in unison. "We're like a couple right?" They nodded even quicker trying to fill in the blanks for you. "So we should have sex-" Stu reached to take off his shirt but you stopped him. "At some point." You finished making the boy frown.

"Why'd you bring this up?" Billy asked. Between you and Stu randomly bringing up touchy subjects he was liable to get whiplash. You rubbed your face with your hands trying to get a grip. "I was just thinking about it. I have been... thinking about it." Stu knew if anyone could overcomplicate sex it'd be you. "Guys I'm scared."

It was the honest truth. You were terrified. "Of what?" The tone Stu had seemed to dismiss whatever emotion you felt. "Nothing it's dumb." You stood up only to be pulled back down by Billy. "No talk to us. What are you scared of?" Billy made demanding eye contact with you just to show he took this conversation seriously this time. "You?" The word came out like a question. That question seemed to negatively affect both boys. Stu was gutted that you were scared of him even worse that it was sex-related. You grabbed Billy and Stu's hands not wanting them to think it was all their fault. "Men in general are scary. I'm not scared of you exactly more of what you could do." That somehow made less sense to them both.

"Stu, do you remember the other night when we were wrestling?" He smiled remembering how funny that whole thing was. "Yeah, I beat your ass." He said proudly. Billy seemed to understand what you were getting at by Stu's response. "I could give it my all and you both could still trap me. I don't stand a chance and it's frightening. What if in the middle of it all you decide to-" Billy moved forward putting both of his hands on your arms. "We would never do that." Stu scoffed sitting up next to you. "Yeah we may be killers but we're not rapists." Billy looked at Stu like he could kill him making the boy sit back and shut up.

"Y/n I'm really trying," Billy spoke as you nodded. "I've noticed." He smiled continuing his speech. "I don't and would never want to hurt you. That night that Stu's place I couldn't put you through that pain." He gestured to your closed-up wound. "I know but I joke around a lot. I say I'm into chains and whips but I'm scared of all of that. I don't want to feel like I'm stuck and with two of you it's pretty damn intimidating." You had got this idea in your head that anything intimate with the men would leave you used and torn apart.

"I joke around like crazy you don't think I'm being serious do you?" Both you and Billy looked at Stu. "Wow tell me what you really think." You laughed making Stu smile at his accomplishment. "Hey." Billy's hand rested on the side of your face pulling your attention back to him. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Do you understand?" The words were sharp but they weren't angry. Billy meant what he said. As long as he was living no one would lay a finger on you besides him and Stu. You nodded as he smiled. "Wait so are we sleeping together or?" Stu was just really confused. Before Billy could smack him you stood up. "I'm going to take a shower and freshen up. You two can do whatever you want." Without looking at the men you walked upstairs heading to your bathroom.

Billy jumped off the couch making Stu sit up. "What? What's wrong?" Stu asked looking up at the man. "She said she's going to freshen up." Billy shook his hands for emphasis. He could see Stu simply wasn't getting it. "That's like the universal term for "we're going to have sex." How do you not know that?" Stu stood up a small "pfft" leaving his mouth. "No the universal term for we're going to have sex is "Hey we're going to have sex."" Billy's palm slapped his forehead before dragging down his face. "Listen just go clean up and change I'm going to take care of a couple things." With a nod, Stu went off to his room.

Billy waited on the stairs till he heard the water start to run. Your room was empty but the record you played was loud. The Smashing Pumpkins vinyl spun around letting Billy's favorite song play. He could barely hear you humming the words in the bathroom. You remembered. That fact made his heart seem to swell. It wasn't what you normally listened to. All he heard the past week was what you called "classics." Now there you were in the privacy of your room listening to his favorite album. With a smile, he got to work. The first thing he did was make your bed. Once it was neat he made sure the room looked comfortable. He noticed the candle you had sitting on your dresser. Billy headed downstairs to ask Stu for his lighter.

Stu's bedroom door opened hitting Billy with a cloud of cologne. "Jesus fucking Christ!" The boy cursed waving a hand in front of his face. "Too much?" Stu asked innocently. Billy huffed not having time to deal with him. "She's not going to let you in the room let alone her bed smelling like that." Stu thought he smelt good, you had complimented him on his cologne before. "Change your shirt and pants and air out this damn room." Billy was about to leave before remembering why he came down there in the first place. "Oh, I need your lighter." Stu dug through his dresser tossing the skull-covered lighter to the man. "What do you need that for?" Stu pointed towards the object. "I'm going to light a candle." Stu held up his hand covering his mouth with a laugh. Billy's face dropped at his friend's laughter. "Shut it fuckrag." Billy pointed at Stu but it didn't stop him from laughing.

Upstairs you had already stepped out of the shower pulling the cap off your head. You hung the shower cap up before wrapping a towel around your frame. You didn't know what to expect. Billy's little speech downstairs did wonders for your nerves. Were you still terrified? Yes but for some dumb reason, you trusted them. You had this nagging feeling you'd regret it. You willed yourself to believe in the fantasy land you've created. Sex wasn't something you'd grown accustomed to. That day playing truth or dare barely felt real. There wasn't much emotion behind it just teenage hormones. You weren't upset about it you just hoped this would be different. As your skin dried off you slipped a pair of underwear on covering them with one of Stu's shirts.

Billy sat at the edge of your bed biting his nails. He had to repeatedly tell himself he was trying to be better, to do what you asked. As you walked out of the bathroom he stood up. You could tell he was nervous by the way his eyes darted back and forth between you and the door. "I thought we could talk. You like talks right?" His smile was tight as he raised his eyebrows. You saw your bedroom door was closed completely leaving Stu out of the conversation. "I'm fine with talking but we made it a rule to include everyone when we talked." Billy watched as you walked over to your record player. The way you took care of the fragile vinyl said something about your character, at least he thought it did. "I know but I already asked Stu if it was okay and he said it was."

"I get that but we should have conversations together." Billy grew impatient. "Just!" The word was loud scaring him when he said it. You looked at him waiting for him to fix his tone before speaking to you. "Just.. please? I need to talk to you alone." You put the record on the shelf debating on talking to him in private. Billy was a complicated man. You didn't want to throw away the chance of getting him to open up. "Okay. What do you need to talk about?" You walked over to Billy's side sitting down with him at the foot of the bed. "You want this to be equal. Meaning this is a group effort right?"

"This?" You asked as Billy's leg bounced with anxiety. That little voice in his head told him he couldn't do this. "Sex." Was all he said. "I would like it to be that way, yes. I don't want anyone feeling left out." He nodded understanding what you meant. You couldn't begin to grasp how difficult this conversation was to him.

"Look if you want us to sleep with you that's fine but I don't want this thing me and Stu do to disturb you." His wording was intentional. To him sex with you was normal but sex with Stu was just a "thing." It was shameful to him. "I-I um..." He ran a hand through his hair keeping his eyes on the ground. "I don't want you to look at me differently after this." You didn't know what to say to make it better. There was no easy fix. Billy raised his arms in surprise as you wrapped your arms around him. His arms slowly found their way around you hugging you back. It was comforting. Billy didn't like hugs. This one however made him feel safe. You had him and you weren't letting go. Who he is didn't seem to bother you and knowing that lifted a weight off his shoulders. "Should I let Stu in now?" He spoke gently.

You nodded pulling back from the boy. Billy stood up opening the bedroom door. Stu came tumbling into the room. "I didn't hear anything." He swore picking himself off the ground. "Not for lack of trying." You smiled knowing Stu was eavesdropping. Billy made sure to close the door behind Stu locking it in place. The action wasn't lost on you. Something was different. Billy had no problem with what happened in your living room just weeks ago. The fact he was locking your bedroom door knowing no one else was in the house was odd. It was for security you supposed. The reassurance that no one could walk in. Your curtains were also closed but you knew you left them open just a few hours earlier.

"Here ya go." Stu pitched Billy a small bottle. "What's that?" You asked getting a quick and easy answer from Stu. "Oh, it's lube." He pulled two condoms from his pocket sitting them on your nightstand. You were out of your element. "If you don't want to do this I need you to let me know." Stu said wanting your full consent. This was a first for all of you, he didn't want to mess it up. "I want this, it just feels like you're both prepping for surgery."

Billy held the bottle in tight hands hoping to warm up the cold liquid inside. Stu chuckled finding his spot next to you on the bed. "I get that trust me but none of us here want kids yet and the lube is just to make sure you're comfortable."

Yet. The word pulled at pieces of Billy's brain. The thought of having kids was not something he wanted to worry about right now. With a shake of the head, he walked over to both of you. "Listen, we don't have to do this." Billy still had this unremitting feeling that things would change. You'd see him as some perverted homo and wouldn't want him near you again. He was ashamed of who he was and what he did but if you wanted this he'd do it. Both men looked at you trying to pick up on any signs of hesitation.

Stu was careful about consent the last time anything happened between the three of you. His behavior hadn't changed any. Billy's new behavior was something to get used to. His nail-biting, soft-spoken nature was different than the rude and demanding one you had got to know. "I want to do this but if one of you is uncomfortable we can just go to bed. You don't have to sleep downstairs." The promise of just sleeping next to you was tempting for Billy. He knew this would have to happen sooner or later. "I'm ready whenever you two are." Stu said as he peeled his shirt off. Billy slipped the bottle into his pocket before leaning down to you.

"I need you to say it."

His face was serious but not cold. "Say what?" The air between you two was nearly suffocating. Billy's voice was low as he spoke. "I need you to say you want this, you want me." Billy's hands rubbed the soft skin on your thighs as Stu stripped down to his underwear. You looked at his hands the eye contact quickly becoming intimidating. "I want-"

"Look at me, please." With a shaky breath, you looked back up meeting Billy's eyes. "I need this. I need you, Billy." There it was. That possessive glint you'd seen before. Any minute now he'd be demanding and rough. His lips softly pressed against yours. The kiss was slow and careful. Billy tried to remember the way your lips felt in case you threw him out after tonight. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip signaling your lips to part. Billy pulled away smiling at the love-drunk look on your face. "Let me help with that." Stu helped pull your shirt over your head leaving you in just your panties. "I was right. You look even better out of my shirt." Stu said making your cheeks heat up. Billy's shirt was the next to go. Stu cupped your chin before leaning in to kiss you. It was hungrier than the kiss before.

Billy watched his two partners with some semblance of pride. They were his. For how long he wasn't sure. In the end, it didn't matter because right now in this bedroom, he had them and for some reason, they agreed to have him. Stu squeezed your breast making a small noise leave your lips. Billy went back to work pulling down the fabric that hugged your hips. You raised up just enough to make his job easier. He tossed the underwear in the same spot his shirt had landed.

Stu laid back on the bed taking you with him. For a split second, you forgot Billy was even there. He made his presence known by pressing a kiss to your abdomen. Then another on your hip. Stu broke the kiss watching the scene next to him. You looked down at Billy as he littered your skin with kiss after kiss. He eventually made his way down pressing a kiss on your folds. Stu saw the way your chest jumped ever so slightly. He wondered if he told you how beautiful you were today but even if he did it wasn't nearly enough. As Billy's tongue ran up and down your folds, his eyes flickered up toward Stu. Your soft moans accompanied by Billy's gaze made his cock twitch. Stu picked your hand up moving it where he needed you most. Softly you began rubbing him through his boxers feeling him strain against the fabric. The moan that came from Stu made you continue your movements. It was hard to focus with Billy going at you like a man starved. Billy's eyes would go back and forth mainly focused on the man you helped please.

Being watched stirred something in Stu and Billy noticed. The short-haired boy removed his underwear with haste needing to feel you against his skin. Your hand wrapped perfectly around his cock. The pumps were gentle at first not knowing what Stu liked. His moans and the quiet chant of your name kept your hand moving. Billy pulled your clit between his lips making your back arch off the bed. Stu let out a lustful cry at the feeling of your hand squeezing around him. You didn't mean to do it at first but the new information only helped you tease him. Every few pumps you'd gently squeeze his cock earning a beautiful sound from Stu each time.

Billy's tongue continued its assault as he slowly pushed two fingers into your cunt. Hearing the sounds you made mixed with Stu's was enough to make him cum right then and there. It took everything in him not to. Billy smiled against you feeling your hips try to meet the thrust of his fingers. He doubted you were even aware of what you were doing. Too busy pleasing the man next to you. Your free hand tugged on Billy's hair needing more of him. Billy pulled out his fingers before moving to stand up. You groaned at the loss. With his eyes on you, Billy sucked his fingers clean of your slick even a soft moan could be heard like it was the best thing he's ever tasted.

"We've got to take turns right? Everything has to be fair and equal?" He teased moving in front of Stu. The boy looked at Billy silently asking him if he was sure he wanted to do this. Billy motioned his head upwards telling Stu to sit up. The boy complied sitting on the edge of the bed. You sat up making sure you didn't miss anything. Billy took a deep breath seeing you watch him. He knelt in front of Stu grabbing the man's erection. "Ah!" Stu exclaimed looking down at the man in front of him. With a trained hand, Billy stroked Stu's cock.

You squeezed your thighs together at the sight. Billy leaned forward spitting on the tip letting the liquid run slowly down the veins. Using his hand he pumped Stu's cock the spit making it easier for his hand to slide up and down. He knew what spots to pay attention to. Stu's moans were louder than before. His abs were prominent as his muscles tightened. Billy with a sly grin licked a stripe from the base to the tip. He kept his eyes on Stu not being able to look up at you. Stu turned his head pressing his lips to yours. He moaned into your mouth as Billy wrapped his lips around the tip of his cock. His tongue swirled around making Stu's hips jerk. Stu's breath was uneven as his chest heaved up and down.

"Fuck." Stu cursed against your lips as Billy slid his mouth over the man's length. With a moan, Stu's head fell back leaving you to watch them without interruption. Billy could feel your eyes burn into his skin. That insecurity slowly started to creep back up distracting him from the man under his touch.

Stu grabbed your hand squeezing as his orgasm rapidly approached. "I-I'm going to cum." Stu warned with a whine. Billy continued sucking knowing if he didn't there would be a mess to clean up. His eyes closed tight as Stu cried out. Stu chanted a mixture of your and Billy's names. Billy let Stu ride out his orgasm before he looked to the floor swallowing the evidence of the sinful act. Stu laid back on the bed letting the newfound clarity wash over him. Billy's lips were swollen and his cheeks were red. You'd never seen him look like this until now.

Billy didn't dare look up knowing he'd see the disgust in your eyes. "Billy?" Hearing his name made him feel sick. You waited for him to look at you but he refused. He rubbed his eyes wanting to erase everything that had just happened. Billy looked up immediately apologizing for something he didn't need to. You cut him off grabbing his face and pressing your lips on his. You could taste Stu on his lips and it spurred you on more. Billy was shocked. You broke the kiss to look at him. "I need you." Your hands tugged on the waistband of his jeans greedily. How was he supposed to be calm and careful when you acted like this?

"Say it again." His voice was low and demanding making your cunt throb. "I need you." You happily repeated yourself seeing the way it brought his confidence back. Billy stood up unbuckling his belt right in front of you. You focused on the way his hands pulled the leather off with ease. He grabbed the bottle of lube tossing it on the bed. His jeans were quickly discarded along with his underwear.

You looked at Billy's naked form growing embarrassed by the view. "Baby throw me one of those." Billy pointed towards the condoms. Stu was happy to toss the package over. He was well aware of how hard it was for Billy to do what he did. Stu no longer felt like a dirty secret. You crawled up onto the bed as Billy opened the black wrapper. "Here lift your hips up." Stu grabbed a pillow slipping it between you and the bed. The feeling of your hips in the air was odd but you figured Stu knew what he was doing.

Billy slid the condom over his length with ease. The man debated on asking you once again if you were alright with this. You wiggled your hips impatiently. That small gesture was all Billy needed. Stu grabbed the lube squirting a little in his hand. He kissed your neck as his fingers smeared the jelly over your entrance. Billy crawled on the bed settling between your legs. Stu's eyes watched as Billy lined himself up with your cunt. You closed your eyes scared of the pain you've heard so many people talk about. Stu continued to smother you in affection as Billy slowly pushed into you.

It wasn't near as bad as you expected it to be. You tried not to focus on the stretch as he bottomed out. Billy cursed trying to hold still. "You okay?" Stu asked and you nodded. Billy's hips started to move to find a rhythm you were both comfortable with. Stu wrapped his lips around your nipple getting hit with a feeling of deja vu. Billy held onto your hips as he thrusts into you. He had to remind himself over and over that he needed to be gentle. Stu was used to his partner's fast and rough routine so seeing him struggle was almost humorous.

Your breath hitched as Stu tugged at your breasts. His teeth teased your skin making goosebumps flood your flesh. Billy watched as his partner left small hickies in places no one but the two of them could see. "Faster..." You moaned one hand squeezing Billy's wrist. The man's pace quickened making the sound of skin on skin even louder. It seemed the faster he got the tighter your muscles became. Stu abandoned your side sitting up to kiss the man between your thighs. Billy's free hand wrapped around Stu's throat squeezing just enough to keep him still. You moaned watching the men as Billy's thrusts continued to knock the air out of you. Billy's borderline whimpers did nothing but fuel your arousal. "Don't stop!" You cried out making Billy hold off his orgasm just a little longer.

Both men watched as you came undone around Billy's cock. It was one of the most beautiful things they'd ever seen. Billy's thrusts became rough and erratic as that familiar white-hot pleasure twisted inside of him. With one final thrust, his body trembled. Your name like a prayer was said over and over like it was the only thing he could say. For a brief moment, it was the only word that existed.

You winced as Billy pulled out. Stu fell next to you pressing a kiss to your cheek. "How was it?" He asked knowing the answer from previous experience. Billy tied off the condom before disposing of it in your bathroom. "I can't feel my legs." You giggled making Stu laugh. A warm fuzzy feeling covered your naked body. You weren't sure if it was the sex or the overall love you felt from both men. Stu helped move the pillow out from under your hips. Your legs and arms felt like jelly as you moved to cover yourself underneath the blankets. Stu followed suit huddling up next to your naked frame.

Billy left the bathroom grabbing his underwear from the floor. You groaned as you rolled out of bed needing to use the restroom. "Do you need help?" Billy asked seeing your wobbly legs. "Don't get cocky." You said with a laugh walking toward the bathroom. "I wasn't trying to-" You pressed a kiss to his lips silencing the boy. "I'm just messing with you."

He smiled watching your ass as you walked into the bathroom. The door shut behind you leaving both men to themselves. Stu grinned seeing the look on Billy's face. "You love us." He said feeling that bubbly feeling once again. Billy laughed to himself. "You know, you might be right."

Taglist (closed): @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @zeysartzone @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666 @billyloomiswhore4 @holyladyofsorrows @megluv1 @ellieswifeiya @yoluvrz @forallthstarsinthesky @madsothree @youcantbesirius @lubunnii @captainhowdysseptum @geekygremlin @madneedshelp

Part 15

A/N: Sorry that this chapter took so long to unload. Theres some serious character development happening and I wanted to make sure I did the characters justice. Hope you're enjoying the series so far!💕

(if your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)

[amomentsescape]

Can I request a slasher oneshot headcannon with freddy, both leather faces, brahms and Jason were either them or the reader gets drunk (drunk reader for the ones who don't seem like the type to drink) and the sober one tries to hug the drunk one and the drunk one is like "stay away from me b###h I'm in a commented relshinship and they're beautiful" and the sober one knows they're talking about them so they lovingly tuck the drunk one in

Slashers Drunk and In Love Headcanon

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I absolutely love this prompt as well. Something about it is just so heartwarming to write/read! These did get to be a bit long, but I hope you like it either way!

Freddy Krueger

Thank God for Halloween

It was the one night you two could go out together and seem normal to everyone else

There was a horror themed bar in the nearby city that Freddy (of course) chose to go to

So dressed up in your costume with Freddy in his... normal attire, you two went

It was honestly a fun time

Good food, cheap drinks, and loud music

The perfect environment for you two

Although, Freddy seemed to be going a little harder than expected

His excuse being that he "only gets to do this once a year"

So you shrugged it off

As long as he was having a good time, then so were you

He was even able to talk to other people around him, and some of them convinced him to hit the dance floor

He was so drunk at this point that you were worried he wouldn't even make it out of his seat

But he just laughed and ran off with them

You let out a big sigh

After a few minutes of people cheering him on as he writhed around on the sticky floor, you decided that he could use a break from the alcohol

You ordered a water and made your way to him

"Freddy, take this-"

He grabbed it from your hand and began chugging it

His circle of new friends yelling and cheering as he did so

This is how you knew he was truly gone for the night,

But you couldn't help the small smile growing on your face

He seemed happy, and being a dream demon had its benefits

Like no hangovers the next morning

You wiggled your way into the crowd further and wrapped your arm around his waist

But he quickly threw your arm off and looked at you sternly

It was the most sober he seemed in the past 30 minutes

"Don't fucking touch me!" he spat. "I have a hot partner waiting for me at the b-bar," he hiccuped

You couldn't help but laugh at this

You wanted to be mad at his abrasive behavior, but you honestly felt butterflies at his devotion

"Well, your partner is waiting for you in the dream world. They're tired and want to go to bed."

Freddy's head snapped back to you

"Y-you've spoken to (Y/N)?"

You nodded

"Well, shit," he slurred. "Guess it's time."

And suddenly you both were back in his world, his body already tucked into bed

You heard his snores seconds later

"Well, that was easy..."

You gently gave him a kiss on the cheek and tucked yourself in moments later

Thomas Hewitt

For murderous cannibals, the Hewitts knew how to have a good time

They literally made their own alcohol from scratch

And of course, it was stronger than anything you could find in store

You decided to try some at the urgency of the family

Thomas wasn't really much of a drinker usually, but he found himself a little more comfortable since you were with him

You both took a sip of the alcohol together, and you found yourself struggling to keep it down

It burnt like fire

Thomas, however, barely reacted from it

He was a Hewitt after all

"Do you like it?" you asked

He kinda just shrugged and before he knew it, his glass was filled again

He looked at you for a bit, almost like he was asking for permission

You gave him a small smile "This is your family gathering, Thomas. Do whatever you want!"

You could see his eyes crease up a bit as he took a few more slurps

With his lack of tolerance however, it didn't take long for the alcohol to take effect

His body was slightly swaying back and forth, and he couldn't seem to keep his eyes focused on anything

Luda Mae noticed how he was acting and she looked to you

"Why don't ya take him to bed, hun? He could use some rest."

You nodded and helped him out of his seat, making your way to his room

Once he flopped into bed, you leaned down to give him a hug and a kiss like you always did

But you suddenly felt his strong hands against your shoulders

He shook his head back and forth frantically, keeping you away from him

"What's wrong?" you asked

He just pointed to the empty spot next to him in bed, looking back to you and shaking his head some more

It took you a moment to realize what he meant

"Are you waiting for... (Y/N)?" you questioned softly

He nodded

"Ohhhh," you responded, smiling widely. "Well, they're gonna come to bed a little later."

He looked down a bit sadly

"Don't worry, they'll be here once you wake up."

He finally nodded and rolled over, falling asleep quickly

Once you knew he was out, you crawled into bed beside him, still smiling from his loyalty to you

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba has seen his family drink plenty of times

But he honestly didn't like how mean and violent it made some of them

Because of this, he didn't have any interest in drinking the odd smelling juice

So after a long evening outside doing "work," he was worried to see you laughing and hiccuping over a deck of cards and the smelly drink

He quietly sat next to you, not sure how you'd react with that stuff in your system

However, you didn't really pay much mind to him as you continued your card game, barely able to grab them without dropping them back onto the table

You mostly seemed fine to Bubba, but he was still worried

He knew that his family always woke up irritable in the morning, and he was worried that would happen to you

After another half hour at the table, he noticed that your eyes seemed heavy and your head kept drooping towards the table

He finally decided that you should probably head to bed

He stood up and went to grab your hand to help you up, only to be met with a small push

"D-don't. I have a boyfriend who I love very much, so I'm not interested."

He cocked his head to the side at this

The rest of his family broke out into a fit of laughter

He hesitantly tried to reach for you again, only to be met with an annoyed look

"Seriously. Bub-Bubba will be here any minute so stop."

He finally understood that you didn't recognize him right now

The funny juice didn't seem to make you angry, just forgetful

Bubba wasn't sure what to do right then

So he ended up sitting back down, a swarm of butterflies in his chest

But after only a few minutes, you were drooling onto the table fast asleep

With you finally resting, Bubba picked you up and took you to the bedroom, tucking you in gently

He couldn't help but go to sleep beside you smiling giddily at your behavior

Brahms Heelshire

After a long process of manipulation, you finally convinced Brahms to help you with chores

The house was quite a mess, and it was certainly too big to clean all by yourself

While in the kitchen, you found a couple bottles of some old wine shoved in the back of a cabinet

"Hey, Brahms!"

After a few moments, you saw his curly mop of hair peak into the kitchen

"Was this your parents?" you asked

He walked closer to you and inspected the bottles, eventually confirming your speculation

"Hmm. Have you had this before?"

He shook his head

"This stuff seems expensive. Would be waste to just throw this out..."

So that's how you two found yourselves sitting in the middle of the living room, passing this wine bottle back and forth

Brahms wasn't sure how to feel about it at first, his only memories of it being the smell from his mother's breath

But now that he was older and he had you, he gave in

And it honestly wasn't too bad

It was similar to what he had in church growing up

So you both continued to take drinks together, only Brahms seemed to be acting especially woozy

He didn't drink regularly, so this was hitting him harder than you had expected

He excused himself to the bathroom and wobbled down the hall, you trying to conceal your giggles

After 20 minutes however, you grew a bit worried and decided to check in on him

You knocked on the door before carefully opening it

"Brahms...?"

When you peaked in, you saw the lanky man sat in front of the toilet, his head resting on his hand

The toilet water was now a murky red color

"Oh, Brahms."

You sat beside him and began rubbing his back

He suddenly jolted up and backed away from you, his body meeting the wall

You looked at him concerned

"Brahms?"

He shook his head

"How did you get here? Where's (Y/N)?" he asked hoarsely

You tilted your head

"It's me. I'm (Y/N)."

"No, (Y/N) is my beautiful partner. Now leave!"

You could tell his patience was wearing thin and you didn't want to be there for his outburst

"O-oh okay, right. Do you want me to get (Y/N) for you?" you asked

He nodded his head and crawled back to the toilet

You left and stood outside the door for a few minutes, not sure if your plan was going to work or not

You walked back inside carefully and found Brahms in the same position you left him

"Brahms? It's me..."

He looked up and wobbled towards you, his body flailing out at your feet

"(Y/N)? My stomach hurts," he groaned

You held in a laugh as you helped him back to his feet

"Let's go to bed. It'll make you feel better."

He simply nodded and shuffled to the bedroom with you, his dopey smile making your heart warm

Jason Voorhees

Jason was always told as a child that alcohol was the Devil's blood and should be avoided at all cost

This made sense to him since all the counselors and stupid teens seemed to be indulging in the beverage whenever he got to them

So he almost found himself in a frenzy when he saw you holding a familiar can in your hand one night

He grabbed the drink from you and threw it outside, its contents spilling into the dirt

"Jason!" you yelled

He just crossed his arms

"It's just a drink, Jason. It's not gonna kill me!'

He tilted his head at you, confused

You stood up and walked to the cooler, opening it up and grabbing a new can

Where did all those come from?

"People drink this stuff all the time," you argued, popping open the tab. "They even have this stuff in church."

Jason uncrossed his arms at this

He thought this stuff was bad

You went back to what you were doing, drinking the beverage and still feeling a bit peeved at the loss of your first drink

Jason almost sat down next to you, but he began to hear rustling outside the cabin, causing him to leave quickly

It took him quite a while to catch everyone since he had a couple runners

But he finally was able to return home

When he walked in, he saw you passed out on the couch, several cans scattered around you

He became worried and rushed to you, shaking you awake

You drearily looked up at him and quickly backed further into the couch

"Leave me alone. My boyfriend will be back any minute!" you slurred

He tilted his head

You began calling his name, making him even more confused

He was right in front of you??

"I hope he comes back soon," you muttered, turning around

Jason stood there for a bit, feeling confused but also a bit warm

The fact that you called out for him in your drunken state made him feel cared for

He lovingly reached down and grabbed a blanket from the arm rest, spreading it out over your form

[skylarsblue]

★RDR2 Incorrect Quotes★

(If you see duplicates from my COD version of these? Shh, no you didn't) ★Border made by @fairytopea★

Ms.Grimshaw What are you doing, you oaf? Young!Arthur, staring at Y/N: They’re pretty. Ms.Grimshaw …and you’re ugly, now get back to work.

- (Pre-joining the gang) Abigail, trying to get paid: What’s your favorite color, John? John: Blue. No, green. Abigail: Awesome! I love learning about you. John: I fucked up, it’s yellow.

- Arthur, cutting a huge knot out of John’s hair: I fucked up, we gotta go bald. *head locks him still* Young!John, flailing violently: WAAAAAHHHH-

Seán: Psst, Lenny, ay mate, wake up! Lenny: Huh- Wh-what? What is it? Seán: I heard something outside the tent. Lenny: What? Seán: Like a woman crying in the distance, but I couldn’t hear her footsteps. Lenny: Okay?? What do you want me to do? Seán: Come look with me! Lenny: Hell no! Seán: Why not? Lenny: I got too much melanin and too much sense for that white people shit. You wanna let demons get you, be my guest, leave me out of it.

- (John HAD to have SOMETHING that captivated her, for humor’s sake? We’ll say he had jokes)

Abigail: You have to find my darling husband, I’m so worried about him. Arthur: Seriously, what do you see in that guy? Abigail: He makes me laugh.

- Micha: I've got the urge to say something. Arthur: And what's that? Micha: The N-Word- Arthur: WHOA-

- Bill: But seriously, is it your whole emo thing that she’s into or what? John: …yeah, long flowing straight hair, very emo.

- Karen: This- Hmm. Tilly: Be nice. Karen: I’m findin’ it. Mary-Beth: …it takes you that long to find- Karen: It does, it does.

- (O’Driscoll troubles) Kieran: Arthur we’re going to get murdered. We’re going to get murdered by a man who can’t tie a fucking bow tie. Arthur: At least he won’t torture us, can’t tie a rope either.

- John: Ugh, you know they’re gonna make us do one of those tacky family happiness photos that comes in the restaurants shitty frame. Tilly: Why are you so fucking negative all the time? John: Wh- uh- I just- Arthur: *slowly sucks tea through straw*

- Seán: Someone just said; “You’re a criminal!” Seán: *handkerchief on, gun in one hand, bag of money in the other* Seán: Well I’ll tell ya what, Sherlock Holmes. You are unbelievable.

- The Gang: Arthur is dying and Micha is a rat! Dutch, dancing with money: *insert that audio that goes “I don’t give a fuck cause I’m a ✨millionaire✨, I do what I want, middle finger in the air!”*

- John, drunk: You think the wind is ever tryna tell us something and we don’t know how to hear it anymore? Charles, loading up a drunk Arthur into a wagon: I just want you to stop saying odd shit.

- Abigail: If we lose, I’m gonna cut the judge. John: Wh- you brought your switchblade?? Abigail: Mhm. John: But they patted us down on the way in, where did you hide i- ohhhhhhh.

- Arthur: …you ever wish you could just, turn into a bird and fly away from everything? Charles: I think we need to get you to a therapist for depression. John: I’d wanna be a wolf. Charles: And we should get you psych evaluation for Autism.

- Sheriff: You seem like a reasonable and good natured person. Arthur: *looks around* And you look like you need glasses.

- Abigail: What would your father say?! Jack: Uhhh “I’ll fix it!” And then make it worse until luck comes around and makes it work, and then act like that was the plan the whole time? Abigail: …that’s my bad, I should’ve used a different phrase to express my disappointment.

- (I dunno why but John being super mean to some people is so fucking funny to me. I don't hate Bill, but bullying him is fun)

Bill: You enjoyin’ the wife everyone else paid to have? John: You mean the woman I never had to pay for? The woman who liked me so much, she didn’t ask for any money to sleep with me? In fact; she liked me so much, she married me? The woman who makes me a warm dinner and kisses me everyday? Mother of my child? John: I am enjoyin’ yeah. What about you, Bill? Bill: John: You enjoyin’ your lonely life, you unlovable sorry sack of shit? You enjoyin’ having to pay for someone to pretend they like you? Cause they never actually do. They hate you actually, like me. I hate you. Eat shit and die, Bill.

- Arthur: …him? Really? Mary-Beth Don’t be mean! Arthur: He looks like a rescue dog, Mary-Beth. Mary-Beth: I know, I like that! Arthur: ….you like that?? Mary-Beth: His pathetic wet eyes and general wimpy stature have captivated me. Arthur: *sigh* Whatever makes you happy.

- Bill: At the end of the day, Arthur. I am a MAN. Arthur: A MAN WHO’S GAY. You like fellers GETTHATTHROUGHYOURHEAD!

- Dutch: I have a plan. Hosea: You haven’t planned shit. Dutch: I’ve planned it.

- Hosea: Arthur! What on earth are you doing?! Young!Arthur: Getting rid of this demon. Young!John: *screeching and trying to get out of Arthur’s grip* Hosea: And why do you plan to get rid of him? Arthur: Because, Hosea! He woke me up by leaning over me and whispering, “I know what death feels like, it’s cold. Have you felt death?” Arthur: HE’S CLEARLY EVIL, HOSEA Hosea: That’s just how children are, Arthur. Dutch: He’s right son, put the boy down. Dutch, leaning and whispering to Hosea: But maybe we should buy a Bible just in case. Hosea: And a cross.

- (Modern au and suicide joke)

John: It’s not a phase! It’s a lifestyle, you just wouldn’t get it! Arthur: You think I didn’t go through the “I can’t tell if I want to kill myself or everyone around me” phase? Come on. John: What? I don’t wanna kill myself at all. Arthur: … John: … John: Should I- should we go talk to Hose- Arthur: We should forget this conversation happened. Take this Nirvana CD and keep your mouth shut.

- Abigail: …John. John: Yes, my angel? Abigail: You forgot something. John: No I didn’t! I took the list with me, checked it three times, even crossed things off when I put it in the cart! See, look. Apples, frozen hamhocks, cranberry juice- Abigail: John. You took Jack with you. John: Abigail: John: Abigail: John: SHIT I LEFT HIM BY THE PASTA SECTION Abigail: STOP STANDING THERE AND GO GET HIM!

- Jack: Pa, how did you get mom to marry you? John: Well son, I- John: John: I have no idea. Jack: Should I ask mom? John: I’ll be honest, I don’t think she knows the answer either.

- Charles: You did good back there. Arthur: Oh? Heh, nah, you did all the fancy stuff. I just helped. Charles: Don’t undersell yourself, Arthur. I wouldn’t be complimenting you for no reason. Arthur: Oh yeah? And here I thought you were just trying to fluff up my ego. Charles: Wouldn’t hurt to do when you work so hard, no? Arthur: Now you’re just being’ sweet- John: Can y’all wait til we’re done before you start your spiritual dick sucking? Arthur: Can you repent to the lord fast enough to save your soul in the time it’ll take me to throw you into the damn ocean, Marston?!

- Arthur: Do you even have a brain? John: Do you even have someone that loves you? Arthur: John: John: I heard it that time, I’m sorry. Arthur: This is what Abigail hears sometimes, just so you know. John: I heard it that time, I got it. I- I’ll just- Arthur: Whiskey, full bottle. The nice kind. John: Apology alcohol, got it.

-

NPC: My husband’s parents are so crazy. In-laws always are, huh? Abigail: Well, uh-

*John being an orphan* *John’s adoptive dads being criminals, one particularly off his rocker*

Abigail: ….aha, yeah;;

- Abigail: John Marston, you useless, foolish, stupid man! Bill: To hell with John! Abigail, suddenly with a very large gun: NO ONE INSULTS MY HUSBAND.

- Arthur, holding up a proper painting he actually put time and effort into: Could a depressed person make this? Charles: The painting: *a wolf in the rain laying it’s head over the body of a deer shot with an arrow* Charles: I’m, in fact, more convinced you have depression now. Arthur: …yeah this wasn’t the best evidence for my argument, huh? Charles: No. Not at all.

- John: What are you talking about? That’s completely normal, it’s like having opinions. just cause it doesn’t happen to you doesn’t mean- Tilly: No, John! No. It’s not normal to have that reaction to the sound of hearing metal on metal. John: No look, uh- Arthur! Arthur come here! Arthur: What now? John: What happens when you hear metal on metal? Like, a can bein’ rubbed with a knife. Arthur: Ugh, I hate that sound. It makes my damn skin crawl, like I got beetles underneath. Makes me wanna skin myself to get’em out. John: Right! See, Tilly? It’s not just me! Tilly: ????

Charles: …and you never got them evaluated? Hosea: In hindsight, an autistic diagnosis probably would’ve made more things make sense. But, what can ya do.

- Arthur after a dog didn’t positively react to him: Maybe this is my final straw. Charles: No. Arthur: It might be. Charles: It’s one dog. There are twenty that you stopped to pet along the way here, plenty more for you to pet after this. Arthur: You don’t understand, this is devastatin’. Charles: Arthur, please- Arthur: Utterly devastatin’, Charles.

- Arthur, tipsy: Just cause you’re gorgeous don’t mean I’ma do whatever you say. Charles: Drink the water, Arthur. Arthur: *grabs the glass* Yes, sir.

- (Got a Y/N one, also, modern Au)

Arthur: That’s the Aberdeen farm. Y/N: …what’s wrong with it? Arthur: What’cha mean? Y/N: The vibes, they’re off. Arthur: …the…vibes? Y/N: The energy, Mister Morgan. The vibe of the place. They’re off, they’re weird, wack even. I sense insidious and wretched wavelengths wafting from the aura of that property. Arthur: I see…well, to answer your question, it’s cause they are weird. And I ain’t even confirmed why cause I don’t really wanna know. Y/N: I see you can also sense the vibes are rank. Arthur: …sure, whatever that means.

- Micha: Well I think- Y/N: Well I’m certain no one fucking asked, Micha! Not a single damn person asked what the hell you thought, ever! In fact, I’m pretty sure you don’t think. I’m pretty sure your skull fills with all the bullshit in your organs, and it just spills out your mouth! Micha: Micha: I- Y/N: Shut up, Micha!

- Arthur, after Albert explains some super dangerous plan in order to get wild animals near him to photograph: You’re stupid, I like that in a man.

- Y/N: Bye Arthur, bye Karen, bye Hosea, bye Arthur. Sadie: You said ‘bye Arthur’ twice. Y/N: I like Arthur.

- NPC: Lovebirds, eh? Sadie: Arthur: Sadie: I’d rather eat a poison ivy plant with Holly Berries for dressing. *looks at Arthur* No offense. Arthur: No no, none taken. All things considered, I’d rather dive into a pit of tar and then drag myself face first through a plain of rotten chitlins. Sadie: Completely fair!

- Bill: I need you to realize you ain’t in charge here. Y/N: I need you to realize I don’t give a shit.

- Arthur: Hey Charles, uh, I got an Uhm…a spiritual question. Charles: Any particular reason you chose to ask me? Arthur: Uh well- I didn’t mean for it to be like that- I just- Charles: *sigh* What is it? Arthur: Do you know what it means when an elk stands up on its back legs? Charles: That means- Charles: WE SHOULD LEAVE, we need to leave, that’s what that means!

- Jack: …why are your boobs so big? Charles: They’re not boobs. Jack: Do you have to wear a brasier? Charles: *sigh* Arthur: He asked me the same thing a couple weeks ago, don’t think to hard bout it.

-

(Story spoilers!!) Y/N: I'm sorry, let me get this straight. Y/N: You picked up that man when he was a destitute child, grieving and starving. Taught him almost everything he knows. Y/N: Then, you did that with, what? Three others? In similar circumstances? Y/N: Created a sense of family and community, a strong bond between so many misfortuned people. With your trustworthy long term friend by your side. Y/N: And then. Y/N: One RAT. WHO IS OPENLY ANTAGONISTIC AND REEKS OF SUSPICION AS MUCH AS HE DOES HORSE SHIT, SOMEHOW CONVINCES YOU TO GO OFF YOUR ROCKER AND HARM YOUR GANG?! Y/N: Explain! Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: He praised me- Y/N: YOUR PRAISE KINK GOT YOU TO AIM A GUN AT YOUR SONS????

- Arthur: Naaah they’re an angel. Lenny: They punched Bill in the face. Seán: They told Strauss he was a waste of human material, in his own language, which they’re not fluent in. Mary-Beth: They framed Micha for a crime and got him put in prison again. Arthur: Like I said, an angel!

- John: Woman. (Translation: Darling.) Abigail: Moron. (Translation: Lovebug.)

Arthur: You tellin’ me they’re being affectionate right now? Jack: Can’t’cha read subtext, Uncle Arthur? Arthur: ???

-

(Insert Alcohol is truth serum reference)

Drunk Bill: Not to be gay, but you’re gorgeous bro. Kieran, afraid: You don’t have to be gay to appreciate a man’s beauty. Absolutely shit-faced Bill: Nah, like I’d fuck you, bro. Kieran, terrified: Okay, never mind!

- (How I imagine their first couple years together went)

Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: How do you feel about me? Hosea, naked & beside him: ….we’re sharin’ a bedroll, Dutch. Dutch: Yes, but what are we, Hosea? Hosea: ….we’re both naked, alone, in a tent, Dutch. Dutch: That doesn’t answer my question. Hosea:

- (This one's sad, not funny, sorry-) John: You’re such a hypocrite, why is it that anything I do that you’ve done before that you get so bent outta shape?! Arthur: Because I’ve done it before you, John. John: So why do you think it’s fair to tell me not to?! Most people are proud when their younger brother ends up like’em. You don’t want anyone like you, is that it? Arthur: John: John: …oh. Arthur: Now that you got my point, will you take my god damn advice without a big fuss…please.

- John: She drives me insane! She somehow managed to make me the angriest I’ve ever been almost daily. NPC: Then leave her. John: The fu- no. What? She’s the wind beneath my wings, my darling wife, my beautiful angel. How the hell could you even think to suggest such a thing? NPC: But- John: Get outta my sight, you fuckin’ disgrace.

[allastoredeer]

Hello I had this dream last night and I need to share it with you!!!

We know the whole crew is invited to the Cannibal Cookout for the weekend.

So I imagine Al is gonna let cameras take pictures of him and Lucifer, that way the headline of his relationship with the king of hell will reach the seven pentagram faster(it was showed that he can take pictures when he wants to, since vox kept one). But that also mean he is gonna be exposed for the first time in probably forever. Like he is known for his terrifying radio podcast, which means that not many ppl know about his true form, especially new born sinners. So I can only imagine the surprise of those people to see the radio demon , the scariest overlord of them all, being a cute deer with a a fluffy tail and all the package that comes with it. Also Alastor mentioned to Lucy to ‘Wear your Sunday best.”, which might imply that he is gonna wear something nice as well…

It would be hilarious if Half of hell will start simping for Alastor and downright ignoring Lucifer.

I can imagine the internet exploding with Alastor pictures and people going like 'aww his ears are moving’ or something, sinners go as far as make fan club about him, meanwhile a certain picture box is having a mental breakdown…

~Valentino: “u know u can just say it that u want him”

~Vox: “Alright alright fuck yea I do and so Does half of hell. God damn it”

Meanwhile Angel reading through the chaos Alastor just unleashed

“oh he is so stealing my job already”

Lmao

OFC In all of this Al is completely oblivious about the situation he caused, so the crew tries to keep him out the flow, to not freak him out, which it’s not hard at all, since the dude doesn’t have a phone, but he does get a bit suspicious when Lucifer makes him wear something to cover his upper body, almost as far as making him wear an hat and glasses lol(I don’t see Lucifer as being who enjoys losing himself on new trends and gossip on the internet, so Angel probably showed him a innocent picture of them, but Lucy made the bad choice to go read through the comments. Nonetheless to say he was scarred for life, and decided to take it upon himself to protect Alastor’s privacy)

Also Alastor can probably sense when someone takes pictures of him, twitching his eyes and tail but otherwise leaves it be for the sake of maintaining the charade.

This was it ehehe, I kinda felt bad I woke up from that dream, I honestly wanted to know how it ended.

Either way I can’t wait to see how u are planning to go with it. Cause I just know u are gonna make me love every second of it😆👌

thank you for listening

Ps I wrote this at 5 in the morning a week ago, and I am not sure if I already sent it to u or my mind is playing tricks to me…so I am sorry if u already got the message.

Heheheheh I love this! You have the BEST dreams. I'm so in love with most of Hell not knowing Alastor, or not really remembering what he looked like, since he's been gone (and Hell is expanding by the thousands every day, so of course there would be people who don't know him).

And so they see him for the first time and it's such a stark difference to what they were expecting XD He's developing a fan-base and Lucifer has to scare them all of (otherwise Alastor WILL murder. He will).

And no worries! I did get the ask from earlier! Sometimes, if it takes me a long time to get to an ask, that's because I want to draw some doodles for it like the pics above ^.^

[loveandmurders]

love your writing! how do you think the menagerie of murderers would react if their current crush/victim/hostage refers to them exclusivelly as "Mister [lastname]" even after they know their first name? would some prefer it that way? get off to the power synamic implied? would some insist on being called by their first name? would they not gaf? asking for Tommy Vincent and Brahms specifically but if you can do more i'd love that~

Hello there! I don't take request anymore but my mind instantly knew how each character you mentionned would react, so here a quick answer for you! (I added Bo and Lester)

I hope you'll enjoy <3

Warning: absolutely no proof reading, mentions of murders and violence, mentions of sexual desire, nothing else I think

Thomas Hewitt

Tommy would be confused as hell at first. Why would you call him "Mister Hewitt"? The man has never been called that way in his entire existence.

Of course, he understands you're trying to be polite, and it's better than being insulted... But he has a secret little crush on you (he thinks it's a secret but the whole family can tell) so it hurts him quite a lot that you are not calling him by his name. For him, it is as if you were putting barriers between the two of you. He wants you to be more intimate with him. He needs it actually or he is going to lose his mind.

He definitively asks his Mama (he is too shy to ask you directly) to tell you to stop calling him that, and to start calling him "Thomas" (which makes him feel so hot when you do) or "Tommy" (which makes him melt with pure love for you).

Bo Sinclair

Bo has tied you up on his chair and he is ready to toy with you in the nastiest way possible.

But he stops dead in his track when he hears you call him "Mister Sinclair" as you plead with him to not hurt you. He can't recall the last time he has been called that way and for an instant he doesn't know what to think about it. He asks you to repeat your words, which you instantly do, hopeful you might have found a cheatcode.

As he repeats the words inside his head over and over again, he moves his tongue over his dry lips and starts to understand he actually likes it a lot. It sounds even hotter coming out from your pretty mouth. Ok, you win, he won't hurt you as long as you keep calling him that way. God forbid he is getting hard from such a simple way. Also, he is losing it if you start calling him "Sir" as well.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent instantly liked you among your little tourist group and this is why you're still alive, currently wandering around in the house. In your point of view, you're some sort of hostage, without really knowing what the brothers want from you.

But Vinny doesn't see it that way. You're his muse.

At first you don't know you are alive thanks to him; you even feel like he seems to avoid you as much as possible. Actually he is just watching you from far away. When he finally gathers the courage to be around you, he is so surprised to hear you call him "Mister Sinclair". He definitively enjoys the politeness of it. It also reminds him that he isn't his "mama's boy" anymore. He is a man. It makes him want to take care of you like a "man" would take care of you. But after a little while, he really needs you to call him by his name or even better by a nickname to show him you like him (even just a little).

Lester Sinclair

Lester is very happy you aren't calling him a "freak" or insulting him, despite the current situation (all your friends are dead and you're alive because Lester pleaded with his big brothers).

He is even astonished you are still so polite to him, like the first time you met on the dusty road of Louisiana. He isn't used of people being polite to him, and he is a little bit worried you are actually just scared of him. He really doesn't want that.

In addition, he HATES with burning passion you calling him "Mister Sinclair". Mister Sinclair was his father and fuck he hated that man and all the awful things he did to him and his brothers. So no, please, call him Lester, call him Les, call him anything you want, but not Mister. Even "Freak" would hurt less in fact. He doesn't really like "Sir" either because he doesn't feel like that. He is just "Lester".

Brahms Heelshire

For Brahms, it is normal and even expected that you call him "Mister" and that you are all polite and nice around him.

Your are his new nanny, you are stuck with him now and you better respect the rules and respect him.

But he can't deny that the way you pronounce those words instantly does things to him. If you are gently greeting him in the morning, he is promising himself he's going to be a good boy to you today. If you are scolding him because there is mud eveywhere in the living room, he gets sad and helps you clean up instantly. If you say this in between kisses, he is absolutely going feral for you.

"Mister Heelshire" used to be a way to show him some respect, now it is some sort of spell that wraps him up all around your little finger.