#You had to call the survivor names as well
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dootznbootz · 7 months ago
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You can horny post and thirst for Circe and Calypso without making fun of Odysseus, a victim of both, btw. 👍
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snaileer · 6 months ago
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We Didn’t Start The Fire
“See man, the moon!” Kid Flash said as they came outside, standing on the pile of rubble.
“And Superman! Do we fulfill our promises or what…” his voice trails off as a grinding clanking sound echoes behind them.
They turned around, confused to see a tricked out pale yellow Volkswagen bug trucking its way up the rubble and crumbled building blocks. It stopped before it got too steep, a man in a familiar white lab coat stumbling out.
Immediately, they were on guard, the man haphazardly climbing towards them.
Robin drew two batarangs in each hand, standing in front of Superboy as he got closer. It didn’t even matter that the Justice League had just landed behind them, if this CADMUS scientist tried something, Robin would be the first to defend Superboy. Without hesitance.
The man stopped in front of them, huffing for breath.
“You’re-!” He stopped, leaning over his knees with gasping breaths, “Sorry, one sec!” He held up a finger, gasping for another few seconds before stepping forward-
Chains of water surrounded him before they could blink, Robin looking back surprised to see Aqualad standing with extended weapons and a grim face.
“This is odd.” The man looked at the water wrapped around him, wriggling a bit before shrugging. His eyes zeroed in on Superboy, “You’re okay!” He said with a blinding grin.
Superboy recoiled and Robin immediately stepped between them.
“What.”
The man glanced at him briefly before looking back over Robin’s head, “You are okay right? I mean I tried my best but I couldn’t figure out a way to get you out- I mean if I’d known you were there to begin with I’d would have never-but then I wouldn’t have-
“Who are you?” Superman asks, suddenly close from behind them.
The man’s mouth clicks shut, looking between them all before a grimacing smile rises to his face.
He extends his hand at the elbow between the liquid chains, “Dr. Danny Fenton, ex-biochemical engineer of CADMUS labs Mr.Superman,sir.”
Flash zips forward, the eyes of his cowl narrowed, “Ex?”
The grimace turns into a wince. “Oh.. heh, yeah, I’ve found that arson is usually a pretty good kickstart of sudden unemployment,” there’s a thoughtful pause as he looks over the rubble, “It’s usually accidental though.”
Nobody responds.
“What? You didn’t think that lab fire started on its own did you? How else was I supposed to get you here?”
“There’s a Justice League public phone! That’s literally its entire purpose!” Kid Flash shouts, throwing his hands in the air. At this point, Aqualad cautiously lowers his water bearers, releasing Fenton.
“Oh, sure, I call a bunch of superheroes and tell them my boss is doing a Grow-Your-Own-Superman in the boiler room. That’d go over well.” He pauses, “Though the sidekicks was a surprise.”
The comment goes uncorrected, as the rest of the league has snapped to face Superboy the moment he says it.
Superman looks stricken as Superboy reveals the logo on his torn shirt.
Fenton unceremoniously breaks the tension, “Sorry I never asked, do you have a name? I’d feel really bad just calling you-“
“… They called me.. Superboy..” He says, still not looking away from the man of steel in front of him.
“That’s not-“ Fenton rubs his temples and sighs harshly, “Okay, I can fix that later, whatever-“
“You’re not gonna be ‘fixing’ anything, Doctor.” Robin snarls.
Fenton blinks. “Huh?”
Batman steps forward, “Green Lantern.”
Green construct cuffs snap around the Dr.Fenton’s wrists, though he looks at them puzzled.
“Superman, check for survivors in the damage, Flash find some salvageable evidence before it finishes burning. The rest of us, we’ll continue this interrogation at the hall.”
“Wait what?” Dr. Fenton says, perking up like a meerkat even as Batman turns away with swirl of his cape.
“What about me?” Superboy asks, desperation in his hesitant step forward.
Batman looks to Superman. Superman nods, and then shoots off into the rubble and emergency vehicles.
“For now, you come with us.” Batman says, and Superboy’s shoulders loosen just a hint.
The dark knight pauses again before turning completely, “And don’t think we’ve forgotten the rest of you,” he says, cowled eyes narrowed over his shoulder, “Robin.”
Robin shirks back, “Heh.. Right.”
“Wait what’s going on?” The Fenton scientist yelled back over his shoulder as Green Lantern pulls him away.
He starts to say something but the construct fully engulfs him now, shifting from a platform to a soundproof bubble.
It seems to shock him enough, Fenton tapping at the walls and looking like he wants to take it apart and take a sample.
Robin grit his teeth.
He was not gonna let these CADMUS freaks touch Superboy again.
Not Fenton or anybody else.
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writersblockedx · 5 months ago
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A Rekindled Kind of Love
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Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - Spencer and Y/n hadn't talked since the Summer before college and then he sees her name as the only survivor in their latest serial killer case. Warning - violence, drinking Words - 3.6K
A/n - It's be a while! I've had a surge of inspiration lately since becoming a little obsessed with character ai lol and thought to write this one into a little one-shot.
masterlist
Spencer was lying if he ever called any day at the BAU normal. Between serial killers, sadists, and everything else in between, the boy had a blurred definition of normal. So, he expected anything - or so he thought. When he entered the meeting room that morning, he hadn't expected the name of Y/N Y/L/N to pop up.
"We've got three victims and, weirdly, one survivor." Garcia started to explain, clicking through the victim's dead bodies, the woman squirming at just a glance of the photos. "Whoever this sicko is, he's going after journalists. His latest victim, Y/n Y/l/n, was actually able to get away before he had a chance to kill her."
Spencer stopped. His gaze snapped up as Garcia clicked once more and he caught sight of the girl he once knew. Only now was she older, and her expression was stern. The unsub had left her features tainted, early bruises and several cuts littering over her. "She's pretty distraught says doctors, but she's alive and well."
He couldn't stop staring at her, memories of high school, of that last summer, of their blissfully ignorant friendship fueling his feelings. This was not normal. None of what he felt was normal - not for him away. "He stabs them?" Emily observed, all of the team had yet to clock onto the haze Spencer had suddenly found himself in.
Garcia hummed, "Yep, as many times as it takes before they...you know...die."
"He's aggressive, he's got no remorse for these victims," JJ spoke, glancing between her file at the screen in front of her.
"Not only are they all journalists, but they're female journalists too." Rossi added. "There's got to be some reason for that too."
Hotch nodded, "Either way, we should take Y/n into our care. She's the first to get away, I doubt he's happy about that-"
The shaggy-haired boy couldn't seem to take it. The way Y/n had gotten herself mixed in like she was any other victim, like she wasn't once the most important person in Spencer's life. "Excuse me," The boy stood abruptly, not giving any reasoning to the team before he practically ran out, gasping for breath.
The team were left with nothing. Their expressions moulding into ones of confusion, and puzzlement, "What's up with him?" Morgan was the first to question. But it was only met with the same uncertain expressions and a shrug from Hotch.
Morgan took it upon himself to stand, following Spencer out into the adjacent hallway where Spencer was panic pacing. A hand swooped through his hair as his thoughts raced. "Hey, kid, slow down," Morgan soothed. He hadn't realised the arrival of Derek until he spoke. Spencer turned, swallowing the lump which had since grown in his throat. "The hells going on with you?"
He took a breath. He evened his lungs and took a moment before confiding, "I- erm- I know her, Y/n Y/l/n, the survivor." He explained and that was enough for Morgan to understand. "Well, I suppose I knew her, we lost contact when we went to college, but we had been friends."
Morgan gazed back into the meeting room, "Reid, it's okay. She's okay, you know? She survived."
His head shook, "It doesn't matter. You heard Hotch, she's still a target." She wasn't safe and that fact was only nagging at Spencer.
"Alright, alright, how about I talk to Hotch? We'll go to the hospital, you make sure she's okay yourself?" Reid had barely agreed before Morgan walked back into that meeting room.
Of course, he wanted to make sure she was okay. But that also meant seeing her, after all these years. Spencer didn't know what had changed - if anything had. And he didn't know which option was scarier. Either way, he soon found himself at the hospital, waiting at the reception desk as a doctor went to find her.
His feet were tapping, his nerves obvious to Morgan. "Reid, calm down, she's gonna be alright," He said, but no words from Morgan or a doctor was going to help. He needed to see her.
"It's not just that I'm worried about." What if everything had changed? What if nothing had? What if-
He turned and found his eyes on her. She still had that same look. That same smile, the same soft gaze, the same ease about her that Spencer craved. But this was the very moment he feared.
She wandered up to him, quickening her pace as much as she was able to considering her state. "Spencer," She said his name like a sigh of relief. Before he realised it, her arms were wrapped around his neck, melting into his touch as if no time had passed.
"Hi," He breathed into her ear; she was safe. The hug didn't last long enough. How could it? They had 12 years of missed hugs.
"I can't believe you're here, the doctor said a profiler and then said it was Doctor Reid and I-" She trailed on, "I don't know why I was so surprised. Of course, you made it big."
Spencer shrugged, "I wouldn't call this big." The boy became sheepish, almost flushed and Derek Morgan had certainly taken notice. "I'm sorry I stopped calling and I should have-"
"Oh, Spence, save it," She chuckled lightly, "I could have picked up that phone just as well as you had. I just wish we could have met under different circumstances."
He nodded, "Yeah, well about that," Spencer turned to bring Derek into the conversation, "This is Agent Morgan, he's erm gonna help."
Morgan sent his usual cheeky smirk as he did with any pretty lady, "It's good to meet you, sweetheart. Glad to hear you're feeling better too."
Spencer hadn't expected anything less from the man. "Look, I don't know if the doctor explained it to you, but we're under the belief that this unsub may still be targeting you."
"Unsub?" She reiterated.
"The killer that went after you." Morgan answered, "Unknown subject, unsub for short."
"We erm- we have to take you in, make sure you're safe kind of thing," Spencer explained, fidgeting with his fingers as she glanced between them and the girl in front of her.
Her pupils grew worrisome, "You think I'm still in danger?"
Spencer hated that word. Even the thought of Y/n in danger made his spine shiver. "You're the first to get away, we erm- we don't think he'll be very happy about it. He could lash out, many unsubs, new unsubs especially, a victim getting away could be like a double stressor, he could be on a rampage, he could be doing nothing but think about getting to you." He realised he was rambling and his words were only worrying the girl more, "Sorry, I just, I want to make sure you're safe."
But Y/n understood, "It's alright, Spence. I'll go grab my things."
With that, a rush filled the girl as she turned her back on the two agents, wandering back into the hospital room she had come from. Spencer's eyes hadn't left from where her figure was once standing. This was personal for him - even if he hadn't seen the girl for years now. "She's not just someone from high school, is she?" Morgan realised as he observed Spencer.
He turned to him as if he had just left the trail of thoughts in his mind, "Hm?" He turned back to look at Morgan.
His response had only made Morgan smile, "Y/n, she seems more to you than that."
"It was..." The boy thought back to it, to that Summer, he didn't know how else to describe it, what they had, her. "Complicated."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
12 Years Prior, Las Vegas
Y/n always had something Spener didn't: Popularity. Well, in a way. Spencer was cast away from many of his peers. A social reject. While, Y/n was a social butterfly of sorts. She took to a crowd with ease. The type of girl that could make friends with anyone.
The boy had certainly hit the jackpot when he was assigned to tutor her. Over the course of several sessions, they had bonded over literature, future college plans and, surprisingly, Y/n's distaste to certain 'jocks' - as the social hierarchy liked to describe them as.
She was the only reason Spencer turned up to the end of year house party. Crowds weren't his thing, drinking neither. But she...she was worth it.
"Spencer!" The girl gleamed as he wandered into the house. 
He didn't belong at all. His shoulders were stiff, his glasses at the edge of his nose. But, despite such, Y/n still took him into a longing hug. "H- Hi." He greeted, his eyes flickering all over the place. From the demolished kitchen to the living room where drunken teens were dancing on top of couches and coffee tables.
Her brow raised, "Come on, we'll get you a drink." Her hand slipped into his, bringing the boy back to his attention: her. "You do drink right?" She checked as she guided him towards said demolished kitchen.
"Erm, not a heavy drinker but, sure I can have one."
"You sure?" She spoke ever so softly, "You know you don't have to."
"Just one." He offered her a smile.
She grasped a few bottles: vodka, rum, tequila. "Pick your poison."
Spencer had simply shrugged, a chuckle at the tip of his tongue, "I'll have whatever you're having."
"Rum it is!"
She poured the two the same drink - almost half liquor, half mixer. Spencer coughed when he swallowed, causing the girl to giggle, "Too much?"
But Spencer simply shook his head, "Just perfect," He almost joked as he leaned onto the kitchen counter next to the girl, "I almost didn't come," He admitted.
"I don't blame you," He gazed down at her answer, his expression urging her to add some context. "Ashley James puked up after two drinks, Kacy and Liam broke up, now Liam's making out with Polly. It's just...a mess." Her eyes rolled. "But then again, what was I expecting?"
Spencer smiled at her. She was good at knowing like everything. While he was filled with facts and statistics, Y/n knew everything about everyone. Within one look, she knew your secrets. Maybe that's why she was so good with people. "We can go somewhere else if you want?" He suggested.
His question brought along an idea for the girl. With her free hand, she took Spencer's and led him out into the back garden. Whoever lived here was almost rich. Well, rich enough for a pool and a pretty big outdoor area. "Come on," Y/n urged him as she pulled the boy towards the edge of the pool.
She slipped her shoes off, sitting down and letting her legs dangle into the fresh water. Spencer watched her for a moment before joining her, the two sipping on their drinks. "Better?" She asked him.
He nodded, "Much."
"At least we've got Summer now, no more being forced to see them assholes." She joked.
Spencer's brows narrowed in thought, "You mean the assholes that you were friends with until you met me?"
"Well you got me there, Spence." She shrugged, "Social survival, that's what I call it. It's not as if there won't be similar people in college. I mean, fucking sororities, semi-pro football leagues, frats?"
"I'm sure you'll fit in amazingly at Princeton." His smile seemed to falter at his own words.
She gazed at the boy who seemed captivated by the slowly swaying water below them, "We'll still call you know, text, just cause we're in different places, doesn't mean anything, Spencer." Y/n attempted to comfort him.
"That's what everyone says but, I don't know." He shook his head, ignoring a thought.
But she noticed it; she noticed everything, "But what?"
He huffed and stared over at her, his eyes pooling in admiration. "You're one of the best things to have happened to me in a long time you know," He offered her a smile, "I couldn't even imagine losing you."
The girl bit her lip. Something was on her mind and Spencer had noticed. He too noticed everything about her. But he didn't ask. Partly, because he didn't have the chance to. Her eyes flickered to his lips. Then to his eyes. And before Spencer could realise, she had leant in, her lips at his. Without even realising, she had changed everything for the boy.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Spencer accompanied the woman towards a private, interview room. He would offer support and comfort but at the same time, he had a job to do. A part of that was questioning. She was the only person to know this unsub. As difficult as it would be for her, he would have to ask them questions.
"Hey," Emily spoke as he entered the room, two coffees in hand: one for Spencer and one for Y/n. "Coffee orders are here," She smiled as she placed them at the table between the two. "I'm Emily, Reid says you're an old friend."
Her eyes flickered to the man before she shook Emily's hand, "Something like that yeah."
"Well, we're here if you need anything, alright?" She said, "You're in good hands here, especially with our Doctor Reid."
With that, Emily left to join the rest of the team who were busy compiling a profile. Which left her and Spencer. This was the part he wasn't looking forward to. "I've erm, I've got to ask you some questions, it'll help us understand this unsub, help us find him." He explained. When she nodded, the boy continued, "I'm going to ask you to close your eyes, alright? And then I'm just going to go through the night you were attacked. Is that okay?"
She swallowed the lump which had grown in her throat, "Yeah," She muttered.
Y/n followed the instructions and let her eyelids close before Spencer started the exercise, "Okay, just go back to that night. You were on 9th Street, correct?"
"Yes."
"It was getting late, but it was summer, think about the air, was it still warm? What sort of things could hear, anything?"
She thought back to it. Y/n had just finished her work week, she was walking home from the Subway. "There's a group of girls on the other side of the road, they're giggling. Drunk, I assume."
"That's good, that's really good." Spencer praised, "Then when did you realise something was off?"
Her brows furrowed and she thought about it, the pit in her stomach growing, "Someone- someone was yelling. A man. I thought he was like bible bashing so I wasn't paying much attention to what he was saying."
"Think." Spencer jumped in, "Listen to him, pick any words, any phrases that stick out to you."
And she did so. Her mind ran through the memory, "Something, something about an agenda, the- the snowflake agenda? It's ruining America it's-" She cut herself off as the memory reached the worst part. "That's when he grabbed me." Her voice quickened, her breaths soon becoming uneven. "He had a knife to my neck- he pulled me to an ally. I- Spencer."
Her hand reached out over the table instinctively, "It's okay," He too had become panicked just seeing her's. "I'm here, it's over, you can open your eyes."
When she finally did, she took one breath. A sigh of relief that she was okay. And then, a single tear dropped from her eyeline. Spencer couldn't take it. He stood and she followed suit, "Come here," He spoke before taking her into a tight hug. "You're safe, I promise." 
She pulled away just slightly but never dared to break touch, "The only reason I got away was because I had pepper spray in my bag," She explained. 
Spencer thought on that and then an idea came to mind. "Come with me," The boy took a hold of her hand, guiding the girl through the bullpen towards the meeting room where the rest of the team had been.
The round table was scattered with files and papers. Garcia typed away at her laptop while the rest were debriefing. At the entrance of the pair, they glanced up. 
Before they could ask any questions, Spencer started rambling, never daring to let go of Y/n's hand. "The unsub was protesting on the street, he's some kind of right-wing enthusiast. He was going on about the left-wing 'agenda', about how it's ruining America." He explained. "Not only that, but Y/n used pepper spray on him."
Like that, they had something, "He would have had to go to the hospital?" JJ thought.
"Or at least bought some kind of medical supplies."
"Yeah, saline wipes or there's a nasal spray that helps the pain." Spencer went on to explain.
From there, Hotch turned to Garcia, "Cross check avid right-wing protesters in the D.C. areas, men with low criminal offences, things like hate crime. Then look at anyone whose been admitted for treatment of pepper spray or has bought any medical supplies to treat it."
Like that, the aggressive typing ensued. The team were all waiting, Y/n still at Spencer's side, anxious for the name of her attacker to be revealed. "I've got it, Tony Jones."
When Hotch stood from his chair, the rest of the team started to follow. "Send us the address, Garcia."
"Already done it, Sir."
Each of the team members stood, one by one walking passed Y/n. That was apart from Garcia who was still glued to her laptop, sending the address to the rest of the team. Spencer was about to turn when Y/n reached for the boy's hand once again. Her eyes filled with nothing but worry. "Do you have to go?"
Her question had made his heart ache. His eyes flickered to Garcia who was already glancing at the two, "I- I probably should but, but Garcia will stay with you." He offered.
Y/n looked back at the extravagant woman who was smiling, "Of course, I've got loads of things I can show you in my office!" She gleamed.
Y/n returned the smile before turning back to Spencer, "You'll be careful, right?"
The boy nodded, "Of course," He replied before taking her in his arms once again. But this time, when he pulled away ever so slightly, it was to place a gentle kiss to her forehead.
And like that, a soft smile, a goodbye, was passed between the two before Spencer turned away to join the rest of the team. She stared out the door of the conference room until Spencer slipped away. From there, she turned, a weak smile given to Garcia as she came to join her at the round table.
The other woman had watched the interaction and, while she wasn't a profiler, she wasn't oblivious to the world of loving. "He really cares about you, doesn't he?" She asked. Though, Garcia already knew the answer.
"I care about him just as much," Even after all this time, a piece of her heart still belonged to Spencer Reid - it always would.
"You're not just an old friend, are you?"
Y/n swallowed, glimmers of that high school Summer filling her brain. "It was, complicated." She described. "We erm, only really had a Summer as..." How could she describe it? "More than friends, I guess. And then we were both shipped off to college. And I mean, we lost contact. As a lot of people do." And 12 years later here she was.
Garcia offered her a smile, "You still love him, don't you?"
The girl giggled but gave a nod, "I don't think I ever stopped."
"Well, if my time with Doctor Reid has taught me anything, the way he is with you, I mean it's like no other." Her hand brushed at her shoulder gently, "I don't think your feeling is one-sided."
That would stick in her head for the next hour. While Spencer and the rest of the team were arresting Tony Jones, Garcia was giving the girl a tour of her office. Everything wonderful and weird. And while she tried her best to pay attention, her mind kept being dragged over to Spencer. If he was safe, if he was coming back...if, once again, everything had changed.
She knew one thing: she would make sure they didn't lose contact this time around.
When the boy finally returned, he practically rushed through the BAU to find her. She was at Garcia's side as they exited her office, "Y/n," He called.
The girl's head snapped to him, her pace quickening as she came to reach him, "Did you?"
He nodded, "He's at the station, don't worry." He assured.
"Oh, good, yeah," She spoke before a sigh fell from her lips. "So, I mean, what happens now? Do I just go home?" The idea of such, while stupid to think so, was almost disappointing. Going home meant she wasn't in Spencer's company any longer. And that wasn't something she wasn't to lose just yet.
But Spencer's reaction was a similar one, "I can walk you home, if you want of course."
Her smile grew, "I'd like that."
"I'll just erm," He gestured to his FBI vest, "I'll only be a second."
And so she watched him leave for barely a minute, coming back in his shirt. He took her hand, led her into the lift and pressed for the ground floor. A moment of silence. A moment of thought. One of which was urgring Y/n on.
She glanced over at the boy, "You know I always think everything happens for a reason." Her nerves suddenly flooded her body as she realised what she was about to admit, "And as much as getting jumped was not fun, I'm glad it brought me back to you, Spencer."
Y/n turned to face him, barely any space between them, "I missed you."
"I missed you too, Spence."
With that, Y/n made the leap. She closed that gap, their lips meeting every so soft, ever so longing. Like they had both been waiting for this moment for 12 years. And when they pulled away, her hands cupping his face and his placed at her waist, it was like they were 18 again. "Promise we'll keep in contact now?" He almost joked.
And she chuckled, "Promise."
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astrophileous · 2 years ago
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A Well-Kept Secret
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Synopsis: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.
Warning(s): established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption
Word Count: 5900-ish
Author's Note: hiya! I decided to write this lil piece after seeing the fic challenge posted by @imagining-in-the-margins abt the family/found family trope. I had a lotta fun writing this one and I think it's got potential to be something more. So pls comment or message me if you wanna see me exploring with this idea (either turning it into a series of connected one-shots or multi-parters). Don't forget to like/comment/reblog and give me a follow :) I hope you enjoy! 💞
Criminal Minds Masterlist
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When Hotch had notified the team to haul their asses up and drove all the way to D.C., Spencer never expected that it would also entail him having to suffer through a mini heart attack.
The series of attacks around D.C. had been dominating the 6 PM news segments in the entire country. What was initially perceived as a suspected sequence of robberies gone wrong--since the first two targets to have been hit were a bank and a prestigious auction house--soon turned into a nationwide panic as people realized that there was a bigger game at play.
After the third attack was found to have occurred in the headquarters of one of the top, up-and-coming renewable energy startups in the states, the D.C. police finally started to entertain the idea that perhaps they hadn't been dealing with their usual petty robbers at all.
And naturally, that was when the BAU had been called in.
As soon as the team entered the Metropolitan PD bullpen, they were struck with the smell of panic and the sight of chaos.
"Agent Hotchner?" A middle-aged man in a gray shirt and blue tie appeared in front of them. "My name is Detective Mills, we spoke on the phone."
"Of course, Detective." Hotch shook the other man's hand. "This is my team. Agent Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid. I have two others already at the latest crime scene. What can you tell us so far?"
"As you can see--" Detective Mills gestured towards the frenzied scene behind him, "--the entire D.C. area is going haywire after news broke out about yesterday's attack. The public is demanding the city to be put on lockdown, and I'm getting pressure from above as well. We received information that nearly half the city has called in sick today."
"A classic response to mass paranoia," Spencer noted.
"Well, paranoia or not, I just want to start getting some answers." Detective Mills began to lead the team further into the bullpen. "I have every pair of hands I could spare in this. If they aren't out there chasing leads, they're here interviewing the victims, friends, and families."
"Any luck so far?" Emily asked.
"Nothing more than what you've probably seen in the files."
Detective Mills pushed open the door to an office in the corner, away from the havoc in the center of the station.
"Lieutenant Jeffreys retired a couple of weeks ago. The lucky bastard." Detective Mills scoffed jokingly. "It's the most decent space I can spare at the moment. Think you'll be fine in here?"
"It's more than enough, Detective. Thank you," Hotch replied.
"What about the witnesses from yesterday's attack? Have you had the chance to interview them?" JJ asked as the rest of the team started setting up.
"Some of my men are with them right now. But I doubt they'll have anything useful. Just like the other two cases, the attack happened while most of the office was out. The rest left behind were DOA at the latest scene."
"They're rapidly devolving," Spencer pondered out loud as he skimmed over the case files. "They went from killing a non-compliant security guard during the first attack to executing almost every witness in the last one."
JJ raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"
"It says here there is one survivor." Spencer showed the word he had underlined in the case overview to JJ.
"Yes, there is," Detective Mills confirmed. "I had one of my men talk to her. There's not much she could give us. Thing is, she wasn't even supposed to be there."
"What do you mean?" Emily asked.
"She didn't work in that office. She was a consultant who just happened to be visiting. Poor girl's pretty shaken up. She hid in a supply closet the entire time. She was the one who found the bodies and called 911."
"So, the perpetrators never checked the rooms while they were holding the victims hostage?" Hotch questioned.
"Not according to her statement, no. See, I thought it weird myself. Do you have any idea why?"
"Not sure." Hotch hummed, deep in thought. "Perhaps our UnSubs didn't think to check because they didn't know someone was in there. Detective, you said all of the victims were the only employees of the company who didn't attend the event downtown, correct?"
"Yeah, they were the only ones who weren't listed as attendees. Why? Do you think those people were specifically targeted?"
"Unfortunately, we can't rule out anything yet this early in the investigation," Hotch said. "We need to talk to the witnesses to know more. JJ?"
"On it." JJ nodded. "What can you tell us about yesterday's sole survivor, Detective?"
"Not much. I didn't interview her personally, one of my men did. She works at a consulting engineering firm in town," Detective Mills replied. "I believe her name is... what is it called?"
When Detective Mills mentioned the name, Spencer's heart instantly crashed inside of its cage.
"What?" His hand had stopped scribbling on the board. In a matter of miliseconds, Spencer had crossed the room towards the doorway where Detective Mills was standing. "What did you say her name was?"
Dumbfounded, the detective stared at a dread-stricken Spencer before spelling out the name once more.
"Why? What's wrong?" Detective Mills asked in confusion.
JJ touched Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"
But Spencer, either too alarmed or merely choosing not to acknowledge both questions, asked instead, "Where is she? I need to see her."
"In the waiting room by the pantry--"
Spencer didn't even wait for Detective Mills to form his complete thought before dashing out. JJ exchanged a glance with Emily following Spencer's sudden exit, perplexed by his odd turn of behavior.
"I'll go get him," JJ announced before leaving the room, chasing after a flurry of wavy hair and a wool-knitted purple vest sprinting across the bullpen.
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The roaring commotion inside the station was almost loud enough to rival the intensity of your racing thoughts.
Almost.
At this point, you didn't think there was anything you could do anymore. The vivid images from yesterday's attack were playing continuously in your head. There was nothing you could do to stop them.
Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you mourned the loss of sleep that you failed to get the previous night. As if the waking nightmares weren't torment enough, the images had somehow translated even more cruelly into your subconscious. You could barely close your eyes for three seconds without feeling like you had been brought back to that place.
Cold, cramped, and alone. Fearing for your life in the tiny supply closet that smelled more like death than bleach.
At the sound of the door opening, you quickly turned around in your seat to hide your face away from prying eyes. The last thing you needed at that moment was having a complete stranger seeing you fall apart in the middle of a police station.
But when the voice came carrying the sound of your name, it wasn't the voice of a complete stranger you had heard. It was a voice you knew more than you probably knew your own. A voice you loved and a voice you had longed to hear for the past gruesome twenty-four hours.
"Spencer?" You turned back towards the door, seeing the face you adored most in the whole world staring back at you.
"Sweetheart."
At the speed of a lightning, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you and gathered your broken little pieces into his arms.
Spencer's touch was everywhere. Your hair, your neck, your shoulders. As if he was checking whether you were real. That you were actually there inside his arms, and you were not a simple imagination that his mind had conjured up.
Surrounded by the safety of his embrace, you could feel the shattered pieces of yourself beginning to mend once more.
"Spencer," you uttered his name again as you pulled away, still in disbelief that he was physically there with you.
"I'm here," he promised you as he cupped your face gently.
"Spencer, what are you... How..."
"My team is working your case. We arrived half an hour ago," he explained simply. "Sunshine, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were still in Alaska?"
You had previously apprised Spencer that you would be hard to reach during your trip since you would be spending most of your time at the power plant site where cellphone receptions were scarce. So when an entire day went by without him ever hearing from you, Spencer didn't have any reason to be worried.
Never in a million years would he have ever predicted that you'd be caught in the middle of a hostage situation.
That thought alone caused Spencer to squeeze your hand a little tighter than usual.
"I'm sorry, Spence," you said sincerely. "My trip ended earlier than planned. I arrived back yesterday morning. I actually wanted to surprise you last night. After yesterday's... incident, I wanted to call you, but my phone was shot--"
"Wait, what? You were shot?"
"No! No, baby. Not me. Just my phone," you assured him. "But that's why I couldn't call. I did attempt you once using this station's phone, but it went straight to voicemail."
At the new piece of information, the colors immediately drained from Spencer's face.
"That was you? Fuck. I didn't--I didn't know. I rejected the call because I didn't know it was you."
"Hey." You stopped his guilty rambling with a hand to his cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."
And then, because Spencer needed to make sure that you really were okay, he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter this time.
"Uh, Spence?"
The sound in the doorway snapped you both out of your mutual reverie. You looked up to see a blonde woman there, staring in an equal mixture of shock and confusion at the sight in front of her.
Spencer begrudgingly untangled himself from your arms before getting up to approach her.
"JJ, do you mind if I do the cognitive for this one?" Spencer asked.
The woman--JJ-- shifted her eyes a few times between you and Spencer. "Um, of course. I'll just go and inform Hotch. Tell us if you need anything."
After JJ's departure, Spencer closed the door again to award you both a much needed privacy.
He grabbed a wooden chair from the corner and dragged it before sitting down right in front of you.
"I need to start the interview now, sweetheart. Think you're up for it?"
Your whole body went rigid for a matter of seconds before you forced it to restart again. It was gone as soon as it came, but Spencer noticed it just the same.
"Look at me," Spencer ordered softly, using his delicate finger to nudge your face up until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know it's scary. I don't want you to have to relive yesterday either, but it will help us catch whoever did this."
"I've told the police everything I knew yesterday. I was hiding the entire time." Like a coward. "I didn't see anything. I don't have anything else that could help you."
"I know that, sunshine. But as I've told you before, our method is slightly different. We won't be just focusing on what you saw, but also what you smelled, or maybe even heard." Spencer took your hands then, squeezing affectionately. "I'll be here with you the entire time."
The nod you gave him was hesitant, but it was a start nonetheless. You listened intently to Spencer's words and closed your eyes just as he had instructed.
"We'll start at the beginning," you heard him say. "Why don't you tell me why you went there yesterday?"
"I, uh, received a call from my friend, Nick, after my plane landed. We had been communicating back and forth since his company seeked my consultation for one of their upcoming projects," you began. "I wasn't even supposed to work because I had requested the day off. But Nick said it didn't have to be a formal meeting, so I agreed to meet him."
"Tell me what you remember after arriving at the office."
Your mind traveled back to that specific time one day prior. You remembered walking into the place and seeing its unusual state of vacancy even though there was still a good half an hour left before lunchtime.
"I just assumed everyone had gone to lunch earlier and shrugged it off," you recalled.
Spencer nodded his head. "Did anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?"
"No? I don't... I don't know. It was only my second time being there, I'm not sure what was normal and what wasn't."
"Okay. That's okay. You're doing good so far, sweetheart," Spencer quickly interjected, trying to get you to calm down before your distress could turn into a full-blown panic. "Now, what did you do next?"
"I followed Nick into his office."
Nick was keeping his promise true. It hadn't felt like a formal meeting, just two old college buddies reminiscing about the past and discussing possibilities of the future that, of course, included the company's upcoming project which you would be working on with him.
"I excused myself to the bathroom at some point," you added. "When I first heard the commotion, I thought nothing of it. It's like the idea that a group full of armed men had taken over the building didn't even cross my mind. I mean, why would it? I was on my way back to Nick's office when I saw them."
You recalled turning a corner after exiting the bathroom only to see those figures carrying machine guns and shouting at everyone to get on their knees or put their hands above their heads. You remembered sprinting the way you had come from and opening the first door you could reach that just happened to be the supply closet.
"Let's go back to the moment you saw them," Spencer urged gently. "How many people were there? Do you remember any conspicuous detail? Maybe one of them had tattoos or spoke with an accent. Anything that distinguished them."
Taking a deep breath, you tried replaying those crucial seconds slowly in your head.
"There were four of them. I couldn't see much. They were all wearing identical black clothes."
Suddenly, an unexpected piece of memory rushed to the front of your mind. You opened your eyes in shock, meeting Spencer's curious gaze that had been kept intently on you the entire time.
"I think at least one of them is a woman," you told him.
Spencer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you sure?"
"One of the guys said something about... fucking this place up. And then she laughed. I heard her. It was definitely a female laugh."
"Good. That's good."
"Yeah? Do you think it'll help?"
Spencer nodded assuredly, bringing his hand to leave calming strokes on your head. "I know it will. You've done a great job, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."
The praise Spencer gave eased the tension in your shoulders. As if having been granted fresh air after decades of confinement, you were finally able to let yourself breathe again.
Spencer continued his loving strokes on your head. Little by little, the weight of his touch melted the resolve you had built into a pathetic puddle on the floor. Without its mental shield protecting you, your tears sped forward, gathering in your eyes until they spilled on the vast path down your cheeks.
"Hey, hey." Spencer's voice was laden with panic after seeing you start to cry. "Sunshine, what is it? What's wrong? Talk to me."
"I-I just... God." You struggled to get the words out in between sobs. "I'm a coward, Spencer."
"What?"
"All of those people... They died because I was a fucking coward."
Your admission tore into the air before stabbing Spencer right through his chest.
"Sweetheart, you know that's not true."
"But it is!" you cried out, pulling away from Spencer's grounding hold around your shaking body in favor of your own arms. "I was a coward. I ran and hid because I was too scared to die. Too scared to fight. If I had just tried a little harder, I could've called for help. That way, maybe all of those people wouldn't... And Nick wouldn't..."
A haunting image flashed behind your eyes. The image of Nick's limp and lifeless body on the floor, among those of the others. You remembered crying next to him, punching his chest, body, and arm despite having seen the gunshot wound on his forehead. It took you another five minutes before you eventually managed to gather yourself together, found a phone, and dialed 911.
Not that it made any difference. They were all already dead.
Spencer could hear his heart breaking at the sight of you curling into yourself, recoiling from his touch because you somehow believed you didn't deserve his affection at that moment. If Spencer could just transfer all of your pain towards him, he would. Seeing you beat yourself up that way over something that happened and was done to you was the worst kind of torture he ever had to endure in life.
And Spencer had been through more kinds of torture than the general population in the world.
Deciding that he had seen enough of your self-deprecating torment, he reclaimed your hands inside of his palms and urged you to look at him.
"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Spencer asked incredulously. "How can you even think that way? Sweetheart, what happened to those people, to Nick, it is not your fault."
"B-but, if I hadn't run away--"
"Then you would've died, too," he cut you off. "Sunshine, there were four of them with machine guns. No one stood a single chance against them. Those people were there to kill. There was nothing you could've done."
It was a hard pill to swallow, but Spencer needed you to hear it.
He needed you to know the truth no matter how unacceptable it was.
"If you hadn't hid from them, we would've found seven bodies there instead of six. And I--" Spencer took a shuddering breath, "--I would've lost you."
Your shoulders deflated at his revelation. "Spence--"
"So please--" he searched your eyes then, using his thumb to sweep away the remaining tears under your eyes, "--stop holding yourself accountable. I promise I will do everything I can to find those people and make them pay for what they did."
Spencer's vow triggered a new wave of tears that compelled you to sink into his awaiting arms. He let you stay there until you had cried your tears dry. It was something he also secretly needed for himself after suffering through the short-lived horror over the mention of your name in relation to the heinous case. He just needed to make sure that you were okay.
A few minutes passed by with you in his arms. Eventually, Spencer had to tear himself away to finish his job. He asked you to wait as he wrapped up the transcript of your cognitive interview, along with his professional report over it.
"I need to run somewhere real quick. I promise to be back in a couple of hours," he notified JJ as he handed her the interview report. "Tell Hotch for me? Thanks."
Without waiting for his friend's reply, Spencer rushed back to the waiting room before leading you out to take you home.
Back at your apartment, Spencer guided you towards the direction of your bathroom as soon as you had stepped into the threshold.
"Are you trying to get me naked, Spencer?" you remarked playfully after he refused to let you take your clothes off yourself.
"Yes." The gleaming mischief in your eyes caused him to flick your nose lightly. "Just to get you ready for your bath. Get your head straight, will you?"
You scoffed at his back as he turned around to check the water temperature in the tub.
Once you were submerged safely inside, Spencer left the bathroom to give you some privacy. Meanwhile, he began rummaging through your drawers to pull out a change of clothes, a towel, and a clean sheet for your bed.
By the time you exited, Spencer had changed your bedsheets and lit one of your favorite candles on the bedside table. He asked you to sit down on the bed as he kneeled before you, helping you put on the pajamas he had picked out with little prints of sunflowers on them.
None of Spencer's touches were sexual. They swept over your skin with the care of an artist handling their most precious work. When his eyes found yours, you swore you could almost cry from the intense adoration that seemed to shine so brightly out of them.
As he guided you to lie on the bed, you were surprised to see him following suit. He got under the covers with you, pulling you close to tangle every inch of your limbs with his.
"I love you, Spencer," you admitted to his chest, heart heavy with the deep appreciation and overwhelming affection for the man beside you.
Spencer looked down at your confession, finding his favorite pair of eyes already looking earnestly at him. Instinctively, he reached for your chin with his fingers, tugging your face upward until he could capture your lips with his.
The kiss was slow. Careful. Filled with silent promises and discreet reassurances. When you both parted, Spencer didn't pull himself away. Instead, he let his forehead touch yours while his eyes stayed closed.
"Will you be here when I wake up?" you asked quietly.
"Yes, sweetheart. Now go to sleep."
Although the two of you knew his answer was a lie, you both chose to pretend otherwise. You knew Spencer still had responsibilities to fulfill, along with a promise to you that he intended to keep. You knew that when you woke up later that evening, Spencer would already be long gone, and you would be forced to bask in the traces of himself that he had left behind.
But for now, Spencer was still there, in the comfort of your bedroom, lying on the bed next to you. And that knowledge alone was good enough for you to finally drift further into the land of sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Spencer's loving embrace.
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"I'm telling you," JJ insisted, looking at her entire team minus Spencer and Hotch. "There was definitely something going on between them. Why else would he request to take over the cognitive for me?"
"Maybe he was feeling generous," Rossi deadpanned, earning an unimpressed glare from JJ.
It had been a full week since the BAU team had arrived in D.C. to investigate the series of gun attacks in the city. Just the day prior, they had successfully made their fourth arrest, bringing this case to yet another satisfying conclusion in the eye of justice.
If nothing else was amiss, they should have been on their way back to Quantico in less than an hour. In the meantime, though, JJ felt obliged to gather her team members in the middle of the bullpen to share her suspicion about a certain scene she had accidentally caught on their first day working the case.
"Pretty boy did seem more emotionally involved in this case than he usually does, though," Derek pointed out.
"Right? Right?" JJ replied almost too enthusiastically. "Come on, aren't you guys at least half as curious as I am about who this mystery girl might be? Don't you wanna try finding out who she is while we're still here?"
They all stared at each other in hesitation.
"Or, we could just ask Spencer directly and let him explain?" Emily suggested, receiving incredulous looks from the other three in response. "Yeah, you're right. What did you say her name was again?"
"I don't remember," JJ answered.
"It must be listed in the files somewhere, right?" Derek immediately sprung into action, reaching towards the scattered case files that might contain the name they were looking for.
"Just to be clear, I am not taking any part in this." Rossi sighed.
"Got it!" Derek waved the offending file in hand, giving it to JJ, who instantly began skimming over it.
"Alright. Says here that her name is..."
JJ read the name aloud when unexpectedly, an answering sound sprouted from behind them.
"Yes?"
Every single one of them turned in shock at your voice. You smiled at their wide-eyed expressions, waving your hand a little awkwardly in the air.
"You!" JJ exclaimed.
"Me?"
Emily nudged JJ in the ribs, making the blonde woman wince.
"Y-you're the witness from the startup case, right?" JJ said, trying to rectify the situation.
"That's me."
"What can we do for you, Miss?" Rossi asked, stepping forward and away from the rest of the group.
"I'm actually looking for Spencer. Do you know where he might be?"
"Spencer Reid? You know Reid?" Emily asked.
Before you had the chance to reply, the man in question came strolling into the bullpen, rambling animatedly to Hotch who was walking beside him. The moment Spencer caught sight of you, though, he immediately abandoned Hotch's side and rushed towards where you were standing.
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
"Looking for you, of course," you told him, fitting yourself easily into Spencer's side as his arm went around your waist. "Hi, Hotch."
The older man called your name in greeting. "I got your message. You wanted to talk to me?"
"I wanted to ask you--well, all of you, actually--" you glanced around at the other team members, "--if maybe you all would let me treat you to lunch? As a thank you for your hard work on the case."
Hotch nodded in response. "It's fine with me. We don't have to be back until tonight, anyway. Everyone?"
Instead of replying to your offer, Emily voiced aloud the question that was circling everyone's mind.
"You know her?" Emily looked at Hotch before dragging her eyes away towards you. "And you know him? You know each other? How?"
You gazed up at Spencer's eyes, seeing them shining with the same mirth as the one you felt dancing in your stomach.
"I guess this is supposed to be the part where I introduce myself, isn't it?" You chuckled.
Extending your palm, you shook each of their hands while telling them your name, them responding back with theirs even though you already knew who was who long before you had even met them.
"I still don't understand," JJ admitted after you finished shaking her hand. "How did you know Spencer and Hotch?"
Once again, you looked into Spencer's eyes, a question bouncing around in yours. Spencer's nod of affirmation was the only go-ahead you needed.
It's time.
"I'm Spencer's girlfriend."
"She's my wife."
You turned your head towards Spencer in shock.
In front of you, Spencer's teammates were causing an uproar.
"Wait, what?" Emily stared dumbfoundedly.
"You have a girlfriend?" Derek asked in disbelief.
"You're married?!" JJ shrieked.
"Hold on a second," Rossi interjected, holding his palms out as if to tell everyone to stand down and calm themselves. "So which one is it? Girlfriend or wife?"
And that was how you found yourself sitting in the private VIP room of your favorite restaurant in the city with some of Spencer's closest people on earth.
"That's the craziest story I've ever heard," Emily pondered in astonishment.
Rossi, Derek, and JJ were all wearing an identical look on each of their faces after hearing the story of how you and Spencer met: by drunkenly getting married in Vegas after only knowing each other for barely one night when you both weren't even twenty-two yet.
"If someone were to tell me yesterday that there's another member of this team who also went to get married while drunk in Vegas, I would have never even thought of mentioning Spencer's name," JJ mused.
At your curious expression, Spencer explained, "Rossi also got drunkenly married in Vegas to his third ex-wife,"
"Why didn't you two get a divorce?" Emily suddenly asked.
It was something that everyone who knew about your situation with Spencer had questioned at one point or another. The real answer was because you and Spencer had both been reluctant to go through the nasty and lengthy legal process of getting a divorce. Therefore, you decided to part ways without doing anything about it, vowing to only track each other down if one of you ever needed to end the bond because of another impending marriage or any other urgent matter.
But that reason alone was usually not enough to appease people's curiosity. And over the years, you and Spencer had poked fun over that particular fact by coming up with the most outrageous lie you could muster up.
"She wanted to get a divorce," Spencer fabricated smoothly. "I persuaded her otherwise because I had this inkling that someday we were gonna fall in love."
Usually, any other people would coo sweetly at Spencer's statememt.
But these weren't any other people. These people were Spencer's family in more ways except flesh and blood, and even without their profiling skills, you knew they could see right through Spencer's little deception.
"That sounds like bullshit to me. Doesn't that sound like bullshit to you?" Emily asked, turning to JJ for support.
"Yeah, that was bullshit, alright," JJ claimed vehemently, prompting an innocent-looking grin from Spencer and a series of chuckles from everyone else.
"When did you two start dating, then?" Rossi spoke up from one end of the table.
"About two years after Vegas, right?" you estimated, to which Spencer nodded in confirmation. "He strolled into my place of work while he was on a case, and then he asked me out."
Derek sat up on his seat after hearing the new information. "Wait, when was this? Why didn't I know about this?"
"The beginning of my second year in the BAU," Spencer offered. "Elle knew."
"Elle? Elle Greenway? You told Elle but not me?" Derek looked offended.
Spender shrugged nonchalantly. "Elle was assigned with me that day."
"Unbelievable." Derek slumped back down in his chair. "Penelope is gonna freak when she finds out what she missed today."
"Penelope? Oh, she already knows," you told him.
That revelation earned a collective disbelief look across the entire table.
"Yeah... I, uh," you cleared your throat, "I actually just went shopping with her two weeks ago."
"You've got to be kidding me," Emily muttered.
"You told Penelope but not me?" Derek sounded hurt as he pointed his accusatory stare at Spencer. "You even told Hotch!"
"I didn't tell Garcia. She dug through my history and found it out herself. Had to bribe her with candies and chocolates for a whole month to keep her quiet," Spencer grumbled. "And I had to tell Hotch. We needed to add her number to my emergency contact list."
Despite Spencer's concise explanation, Derek still seemed unsatisfied by the whole ordeal.
"How long have you known?" he finally decided to ask Hotch.
"A while," the man answered from his seat at the opposite end of the table from Rossi. "They even babysat Jack a few times for me."
"I don't believe this," Derek scowled. "Pretty boy's got himself a girl for the last six years, and I never knew? Outrageous."
"Technically, we've been married even longer than that," Spencer responded, as if he was unaware of the imminent glower that Derek was sending his way. "Eight years since Vegas."
"That's longer than any of my marriage," Rossi remarked before sipping his drink.
The laugh that resonated upon Rossi's little comment elicited an affectionate smile on your lips.
"So, you live in D.C., then?" JJ asked, at last stirring the conversation away from the topic of your and Spencer's secret marriage-slash-relationship.
"I do, yeah. But most of the time, I live out of my suitcase," you answered. "My firm has clients all over the country. A few overseas, as well. I'm lucky if I even get to have an entire week to sleep uninterrupted in my own bed."
Even then, you truthfully quite enjoyed the work you had to do. You didn't mind having to travel some place new every other week. In fact, you somehow believed that your constant need to travel for your job, and Spencer for his, was one of the reasons why the two of you worked so well together.
Although people might think that two adults who had to travel for a living were a recipe for a disastrous relationship, you and Spencer had so far proven otherwise. Because of your respective schedules, you could sympathize more with the other anytime they had to go somewhere urgent for work. It only made you savor every single second you spent together because of how much precious each one of them became.
The rest of lunch unraveled with the same bucket of smiles, jokes, and laughter. It felt good to finally tell the few people who meant the world in Spencer's life the truth about your relationship. It was also a huge relief to see them opening their arms and welcoming you into the family without an ounce of hesitation.
"Hotch?" Spencer called out after everyone exited the restaurant. "Will it be okay if I stay in the city for one more night?"
"As long as you promise to be back for tomorrow's briefing," Hotch reminded sternly, but the meaningful look he passed over you before he entered his vehicle spoke of a thousand things left unsaid.
"It was so nice meeting you," JJ said as she took you in her arms. "And I'm sorry again about your friend."
"Thank you. And thanks for all of your hard work in catching those guys."
"Of course, it's what we do." JJ smiled as she pulled away. "Invite me and Emily the next time you and Penelope hang out, okay?"
"Will do," you promised.
You watched as every single one of them scrambled into the two black SUVs, waving your goodbye until the cars drove out of your sight.
"I think that went well," you commented before looking up at Spencer. "Do you?"
"I think it went as well as it could."
"So--" you began, circling your arms around Spencer's neck, "--we have more than twelve hours until you're expected back at Quantico. What do you wanna do?"
Spencer nudged your nose with his. "I can think of a few activities we can partake in."
"Really?"
"Really."
Just as he was a hairbreadth away from pressing his lips to yours, you suddenly tore yourself out of Spencer's arms.
"Like getting some frozen yogurts?" you asked giddily, smirking at the dumbfounded look that you managed to put on Spencer's face.
"Fine. Let's go get some frozen yogurts."
Spencer had to hide his amused grin at your elated squeals. He was more than content at that moment to let you produce those addictive sounds at the mere prospect of frozen yogurts.
But later that night, he had a whole different set of activities lined up to pull those same sounds out of you once more.
And it might or might not potentially involve an entirely different yet creative use of frozen yogurts as well.
Spencer simply just hadn't decided yet.
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8K notes · View notes
miley1442111 · 6 months ago
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safe- a.hotchner
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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)
you and aaron have jack (obvi) and a daughter, ellie. :) (1.4k + words)
summary: you become an unsubs target
pairing: husband/dad aaron hotchner x wife/mother reader
warnings: general cm minds topics, knives, stitches, head wounds, trauma talk of harm coming to the team, the reader is harmed, etc.
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—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
There you stood, your own blood as well as another's blood all over your body. 
What happened? 
You were just leaving work, you were going to pick up Jack and Ellie on your way home. It was taco night, you three would cook together tonight, though since Aaron was on a case a few states over, you would be the only ones doing it. So, how did that exact same unsub get to you?
You sat in the ambulance, stitches going into your skin, but you weren’t even flinching, you didn’t even feel it. You knew Jack and Ellie were expecting you, so was Jessica. 
“Can I make a phone call?” You whispered to the paramedic. She nodded her head, sympathy on her face. “Thank you.”
You pulled out your phone as she finished the stitches in your head, moving onto the ones in your arms. 
“Hey Jess,” You sighed into the phone. 
“Hey, is everything alright?” she asked. “Do you want me to take Jack and Ellie for the night?” 
You could honestly cry at her generosity. “Yes please, thank you so much Jess.”
“No problem,” she smiled, worried from the other line. “Are you hurt?” she whispered. 
“I’ll be ok, someone just… yeah,’ you sighed. “Tell Jack and Ellie I love them, yeah?”
“Always.”
You hung up. The paramedic finished up and the officer who had been sitting with you for the past few minutes escorted you to a squad car and brought you to the station, informing you that the FBI were on their way. The FBI, really? Surely it wasn’t Aaron, right?
God, you missed Aaron. You’d never wanted to see him more in your life. Just to know he was ok, that he was there. 
Such luxuries could not be afforded at that current moment. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Aaron sat beside David on the plane, exhaustion pulling at his eyes as Spencer read out the latest attack. 
“Oh, apparently there was one survivor,” Spencer said. “That might be his next target.”
“We should look into them, what’s the name?” David asked as Aaron yawned. 
“Y/n Y/l/n, she has a son, daughter, and husband,” Spencer said, and Aaron was wide-awake again. 
“Pardon?” He asked, hoping he’d heard wrong. 
“Y/n Y/l/n. She was beaten pretty badly and had a head wound and a stab to the arm, she’s at the station now. SHe agreed to a cognitive interview. She’s a professor of nuclear physics at a university nearby-” Spencer reads off. 
“She has more pHds than boy genius, 5 and counting,” Penelope interrupts him from the screen. 
“Well, she is older than me,” he stressed, attempting to keep some of his pride. 
“By what, 4 years?” Emily snorted, the rest of the team laughed, but Aaron was frozen. 
A head wound? You got stabbed? He felt faint. Immediately, he reached into his pocket to grab his phone, trying to call you. 
You didn’t pick up.
He tried again as the team stared at him in bewilderment. What was he doing?
No answer again.
“Sir-”
“I want a profile before we leave this plane,” he ordered and the team all stared at him. “Is that too much for you?” He asked snarkily. They all shook their heads and began breaking off into groups to work. Aaron stayed seated, a million thoughts running through his head at once. Was Jack ok? Was Ellie ok? How much blood did you lose? Was the unsub already on his way to you again? Were you a target because of him?
“Hotch I think we have something,” Morgan stated after 30 minutes. “The unsub is targeting women with the same description as the survivor. I'd say he’s a college student who is jealous of her husband. He’s formed a parasocial relationship and obsession with her and his delusions have led him to hurt those closest to her. It makes sense she’s beautiful, described as being extremely kind and caring about her students, she’s ridiculously intelligent, and apparently she and her husband are madly in love with each other. What’s her husband’s name Pen?” Derek asked, looking at the computer. 
“Aaron Hotchner,” she said, a gasp following her words. Aaron looked up, meeting the eyes of the team as they stared back, shocked. 
He could deal with them later. 
“Send police to Jessica's house,” he ordered before he got up to go to the back of the plane for a moment of peace. He took out his phone, dialling Jessica’s number.
“Hey, is Y/n ok?” She asked. “I have Jack and Ellie right now, are you with her?”
“Not yet, I’ve sent police to your house, just as extra protection, ok?”
“Alright Aaron. Take care of her when you see her, she seemed pretty shaken.”
“Course,” he gritted out and hung up. This was going to be difficult. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You sat in an office, a cop’s jacket strung over your shaking shoulders. You were still covered in blood, you still saw the horrible image of one of your students being killed in front of you.
Where was Aaron? 
 “Can I go and clean up?” You sniffled, asking the sheriff who was sitting at his desk beside you. 
“Course sweetheart,” she smiled softly. “There’s a bathroom down the hall, if you want a shower there’s one in the training centre.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling smaller than you ever had. You were told to be careful with your stitches and that you’d be brought into the hospital in the morning once all of the stuff with the station was over. You walked down the hall to the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, staring at your bloodstained face and clothes. The tears started falling, going down the drain with a red-tinge. 
You grabbed some tissue, wet it, and started scrubbing your face. The ache of your body was nothing to the turmoil in your head. Was it your fault one of your students was killed? Was Jack ok? Was Ellie ok? Was Aaron ok? 
You didn’t even notice him coming behind you until he took the tissue out of your hand. He discarded it, damped the towel from his go-bag in his hand, lightly washing your face. Tears fell freely as he did so, but he wiped them away, a comforting hand on your lower back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your clean cheek. He continued his gentle cleaning, bringing it down to your neck.
“I’m sorry too.” 
He smiled softly. “You don’t have to apologise for anything.”
“Neither do you, but we do it anyway.”
His emotions became too much all of a sudden, the feeling of nearly losing you becoming unthinkable. 
“I love you so much,” he whispered.  
“I love you too.”
After Aaron sufficiently cleaned as much of the blood off of you as he could, he took your blood-stained shirt off and replaced it with one of his extra dress shirts. Walking outside the bathroom, you felt eyes on the both of you. You recognised some of the team from stories and photos Aaron had shown you. They stared as Aaron wrapped you into his side and walked you back into the sheriff’s office. 
“I want the kids,” you admitted. “I know we shouldn’t but I’m so worried that they're not ok,” you cried into his bicep as he sat beside you. 
“I’ll send one of the team to grab them and Jess,” he nodded.
“Please don’t leave,” you whimpered, holding onto him for dear life. You needed him. 
“Of course not, honey,” he soothed. He signalled for Derek to come in. He walked in, careful of your feelings. “Will you go to Jessica’s house and pick up Jessica, Jack, and Ellie?”
“Of course sir, but… who’s Ellie?” he whispered the last part. 
“My daughter,” Aaron said and Derek went wide-eyed.
“I’ll be right back with them,” he promised. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Darling, do you feel up to telling me about it? Or even just something?" he whispered against your skin.
"I know who did it," you whispered back. You felt such guilt. You knew the unsub, he was one of your students Andrew. Andrew was obsessed with you, with your life, but you just took it as a student being interested in your life to get out of work. You didn't pay enough care to the way his interest dampened when you spoke about Aaron and when you talked about your anniversaries or dates.
"Honey-"
"His name's Andrew. He's in my chemical sciences class."
Aaron was silent for a moment. "Alright. I'll send officers his way."
"I'm so stupid, I didn't even realise-" you started but Aaron shushed you with a gentle kiss.
"Don't talk about my wife like that," he joked. You chuckled softly and he felt a sense of great accomplishment.
"I'm so glad you're here," you sighed into his neck.
"I'm so glad I'm here too."
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"You're married?" Derek asked.
"Yes," Aaron admitted as he ran a hand through your hair as you lay on his lap asleep, Ellie and Jack playing by the sheriff's desk.
`'And you have another child," Penelope said, shock apparent in her voice and facial expression.
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell us?" Spencer asked.
"I wanted to keep her safe," Aaron smiled. "I also just assumed you'd figure it out. Clearly you're not all as good as you think you are," he chuckled.
The team collectively rolled their eyes, but still smiled. Aaron was happy, you were safe, another unsub was awaiting jail, and they could almost feel the love radiating off of Aaron.
All was well.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :)
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yourfavoritehouseplant · 11 months ago
Text
I watched James Somerton's final video, and all I got was this 6 page document
As soon as I learned his final unreleased video was on Revolutionary Girl Utena, I knew I had to hate watch it. I didn't know that I'd spend the following 4 hours making a comprehensive doc on everything I hated about it. But here we are.
The TLDR (is this too long to be a TLDR?)
The intro section, as well as Part 2, are directly plagiarized from wikipedia. The rest is unclear.
He makes a “haha this show is so weird right guys” joke 10 different times
He reads Anthy as so emotionally stunted she literally has to be taught how to think for herself, and believes that being the rose bride makes her feel good
He says that his reading is ‘vastly different” from the rest of the community, before boldly stating that this is because he sees it as a “deeply allegorical and symbolic story”
He sees the sexual abuse as “not to be taken literally”
Insists that the show be separated into parts that are strictly literal and strictly allegorical for the entirety of parts 3 and 4, before making the contradictory move of analyzing characters as allegories during part 5
The only characters that get dedicated sections are Akio and Dios, who he doesn’t believe are the same person. 
He says Dios gets his powers by “deflowering women”
He calls Akio, known child predator, a chaotic bisexual
Uses 14 year old SA survivor Anthy’s passive personality to make a joke about her being a bottom
His final point is that Utena was the real prince all along
There are no citations
Anyway, full version for people who hate themselves under the cut. With time codes, because I cite my sources.
Part 1: Intro
This entire section is almost exclusively quoted from the Wikipedia article for Revolutionary Girl Utena. Words have been changed, but the order at which certain topics come up is not. Highlights include:
0:56 In his introduction of Be-Papas, lists the founding members in literally the exact same order as Wikipedia.
1:40-2:00 His list of Be-Papas previous works is lifted entirely from wikipedia, only with the words changed. This leads to a strange moment at 1:52 where he claims Be-papas ‘lent their talents to’ Neon Genesis Evangelion, a show which started production at least a year before Be-papas was founded. On the wikipedia article for Utena, this is instead referring to the previous work of Shinya Hasegawa and Yōji Enokido
4:23 he uses a quote by Yūichirō Oguro describing the production as a “tug of war”. He seems to have lifted this in its entirety from Wikipedia, as he does not cite the actual source it is from (the box set companion book, btw)
As for James Somerton originals, at 0:44 he claims that out of all magical girl series,”none to my knowledge have been more discussed and dissected than the 1997 series Revolutionary Girl Utena” He will go back on this at 5:05, where he states that “Sailor Moon takes the lion’s share of discussion” in regard to influential magical girl anime
Part 2: Part 1
(At least I know I’m not funny, unlike James Somerton)
Speaking of which. Here is every single time he makes a “wow this show is sooooo weird you guys” joke: 6:00, 8:50, 10:40, 10:58, 13:46, 17:07, 24:16, 30:34, 41:19, 48:01
Here’s every time the punchline to the joke is the existence of Nanami, a character who he otherwise completely disregards: 10:56, 12:05, 16:22, 42:40
6:16 Claims that the “Apocalypse saga” and “Akio Ohtori saga’ are two names for the same several episodes, depending on the release. This is untrue. Instead, different releases either only have the Apocalypse saga, or split the episodes into an Akio Ohtori saga and then the Apocalypse saga. 
7:58 Claims Utena intervening on Anthy’s behalf begins the first duel. While this happens in the movie, Touga intervenes in the scene he uses clips from (like literally right after the shot he uses in the video). Utena only gets drawn into the duels when Wakaba’s love note to Saionji is posted. Youtuber Noralities’ Utena video also gets this wrong, which makes me wonder if this was copied.
9:09 Claims Akio’s “End of the World” moniker is actually more closely translated to “Apocalypse”. In reality, the translation moves away from a more apocalyptic reading, with 世界の果て (Sekai no hate) apparently translating closer to “the furthest reach of a known world” or “edge of the world”. (Love the implications of this translation, but I digress)
9:10 As can be assumed from the previous point, this means I can’t find any sources that point to them not using the title “apocalypse” for religious reasons
10:10 Uses Anthy’s extreme passivity under her Rose bride persona to make a top/bottom joke. I’m gonna repeat this in case you’re just skimming. He uses a trait that likely stems from years of abuse, (possibly exaggerated by the persona Anthy uses to manipulate people), and uses it to call her a bottom. 
He also just doesn’t seem to understand how the whole point of Utena constantly telling Anthy that she's just a normal girl who should make more friends is framed as Utena imposing her will on Anthy, just as much as the previous Engaged have done. 
11:54 Apologies in advance for my most “um, actually!” point yet, but technically his statement that Anthy stops being host to the Sword of Dios is wrong. Akio literally pulls a sword out of her chest in the final duel. It's a more evil-looking sword of Dios, granted.
13:02 !!! CANTARELLA SCENE ALERT !!! He interprets it as them fighting over Akio?? Which like. I will allow people to have their own interpretations of vague and symbolic scenes. I will. I swear. This is not technically incorrect. It just makes me want to eat my own intestines.
14:44 Bad Anthy take #1: He states Anthy “is emotionally stunted to the point where she needs people to make decisions for her because she does not know how to think for herself” This ignores several moments of Anthy clearly making her own choices throughout the show, including the suicide attempt Somerton mentions about a minute prior. This also strips Anthy of what little agency she has throughout the story, usually exerted through messing with Utena or Nanami. (The fact that she repeatedly makes choices that contribute to her own abuse is, in my opinion, one of the most interesting parts of her character, and it's a shame that Summerton’s ‘reading’ of the story completely disregards that)
Additionally, he once again reads Utena ‘urging Anthy to think for herself” in the first arc as an unambiguously good move, and not as something critiqued in the show.
14:52 Summerton reads the Swords of hatred as symbolizing men’s hatred specifically. Again, I’m trying not to completely disregard differing interpretations to a show like Utena, but this feels very simplistic, especially considering the harm we see aimed towards Anthy by other women
16:42 Here he claims that his reading of the story seems to be “vastly different” from the bulk of Utena discourse. What is this reading? That the show shouldn’t be read literally. Or, in his words, “[we can interpret] Revolutionary Girl Utena as a deeply allegorical and symbolic story about the struggles of coming of age amidst widespread institutional corruption in a high school and which describes a passive culture of inaction in regard to brazen instances of domestic exploitation in which there is not only a question about the caporeality of the events transpiring but also which events can be taken for granted and which events are meant to signify abstract sociological institutions.” The idea that he believes this is in any way a new reading of the material honestly baffles me.
Part 3: Part 2
17:48 through 18:50 differently quotes the Wikipedia article for postmodernism. He even makes a joke at 17:55 about Wikipedia. Please kill me. 
The first three themes he lists at 19:11 are just the three main themes listed on the Revolutionary Girl Utena Wikipedia page. What was that about a “vastly different” reading, James?
You’re gonna have to take my word for it, but this section is so short because it's just him talking about the various ways the story can’t be taken literally. He does, ironically, call this a hot take.
Part 4: Part 3
Here’s where the reading falls apart folks
At 23:15, he states that some things in Utena are allegorically coded, while others are to be taken literally. This is true. However, he seems to take this to mean that some parts of the show are Strictly Literal, while others are Strictly Allegorical for things going on in the Literal World. 
This is apparently why he prefers the Anime to the Movie, where there basically is no separation between the Literal and Allegorical
This take is bizarre to me for several reasons, but here is my favorite. At several points, he mentions how Revolutionary Girl Utena is a work of Magical Realism. Magical Realism is literally defined by its blending of the “literal” and “allegorical”, the mix of fantastical elements in a mundane, realistic setting. This idea of the impossibility of a blurred line, that Utena must either have lore where the magic is all real and means nothing, or dedicated allegory segments quarantined from the rest of the story, is contrary to the very idea of Magical Realism.
I can’t help but wonder if Somerton took his mentions of Magical realism from a previous work, due to how little it is consistent with his final argument. Either way, this section suggests a great lack of creativity in his analysis, a shame for such a creative work.
24:36: Shiori slander, for those who care
After this he gets really worked up about people assuming symbolism in everything, even when the author ‘doesn’t make it clear something is symbolic’. He shuts down a reading of a shot in the Lord of the Rings. Miley Cyrus is there? Very The Curtains Were Blue of him. 
28:22 Claims that Wakaba is the key to telling where the Strictly Literal segments end and the Strictly Allegorical segments begin. He states that, under this lens, deeply personal moments of character suffering such as all of the sexual abuse and Anthy’s suicide attempt (which he literally cites) should be read as symbolic and be “approached with uncertainty rather than confusion”. (28:24-29:13)
This also somewhat falls apart when you consider Wakaba is the jeep in the movie's car chase
And then he rants about people not liking his Attack on Titan video for a bit. Since its potential symbolism also doesn't follow hard enough rules to be symbolism. Once again, the separation of “fact vs allegory” I haven’t watched AOT, so that's all I’ll say.
Part 5: Part 4
Thank god this part is short. Much like Dios’ on-screen presence.
32:55 Makes the extremely bold claim that Dios is not Akio. As in, never even became Akio. because Dios is Strictly Allegorical.
Just to be a pedant, this is pretty explicitly disproven in the show
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Confusingly, both earlier and later he will address these two as the same character. 
33:04 he also explains the root of Akio’s name in a tone that suggests this is supplemental information and not like. Literally something he explains out loud in the show?
Part 6: Part 5
This section is nearly entirely about Akio Ohtori. I would like to note that him and Dios are the only characters with dedicated segments.
38:30 The part where he states that Dios gets his powers from deflowering women.
38:46 Claims, once again, that Akio’s abuse of Anthy “may not be literal”. 
38:59 “the instance of exploitation here is used because assault has deep roots as indicating that akio's gender is the source of his imbalance”  THE ASSAULT IS ABOUT AKIO NOW???
39:45 Bad Anthy take #2: “Anthy’s conformity to the Rose bride is based around the fact that she feels good being subservient because this is the only thing in her life that has ever brought her any kind of positive reward”. This is a direct quote. Anyway, I can’t think of any instances in the show where Anthy’s subservience gives her a positive reward, except maybe when she’s intentionally using it to manipulate others. As for her feeling good being the rose bride. She tries to commit suicide. Dude.
Side tangent, but isn’t this exactly what Akio says during the final 2 episodes? That Anthy enjoys being a witch? Is the main villain, who consistently says things during that very episode that are blatantly false, our source of information for this take? I guess so, since this is the dedicated Akio section.
At 40:20 he decides to introduce the concept of Anthy, Akio, and Utena as stand-ins for wider concepts, which is antithetical to his approach in analysis beforehand
Part 7: Part 6
42:40 he finally acknowledges that he’s been spending too much time talking about Akio, and literally no time on characters like Nanami
46:10 states that Utena’s exclusive motivation “is to protect Anthy from the predatorial intentions of the other dualists”, which disregards the fact, which she states herself, that she was largely participating in the duels and protecting Anthy to feel like a prince
48:04 The part where he says that Akio has ‘chaotic Bi vibes’ in regards to him sleeping with Touga, who is 17 and implied to be a long-term victim
Part 8: Part 7
54:01: His concluding point is that Utena was the real prince all along. 
In true Somerton fashion, the video then ends over a scrolling wall of patrons, with not a single citation in sight.
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nothomegal · 9 months ago
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HIII I MISS YOU :(( straight to the point, I need a yandere pyramid head fic!!
I´m sorry for the disappearance ;v; Can't post much due my studies.
Anyways, I ADORE your suggestion! And boy if our little (Y/N) is going to have a rough time with a yandere creature like Pyramid Head ._.)
Welp, let's start the story!
"Innocent lamb"
(Yandere!Pyramid Head x GN Reader)
Summary: the entity's realm was hell for some, heaven for others, and an inconvenience for the rest... But when one of the creatures encountered you, he made it everyone's problem, even the entity's that brough him there in the first place. But he meant no harm to you. He likes you. He wants you. He needs you. And he wͦ̀ͯi̸ll̩ͩ have Y̛̗̰͇͚͓͈̣͕̰͓̗͛ͤ̀̇̍ͥ͒̓͝Ơ̵̔_̰̅U̵̷̡̧̡̨͖̟̹͙̙͓̥̗̫̣̙͉͕͉̣̬̇ͭ͗̉͂̅̍͗̇̇́́̈͟͞
Warnings: yandere/obsessive behavior, violence and violent acts, quite angst(y) mood in general, (understandably) terrified reader darling :(.
Word count: 4.2k
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The moment they entered the trial, all four survivors knew right away who the killer was. Either its the dread they all felt as soon as their feet made contact with the ground that gave it away, or the fact that the entity had placed all of them in the same spot next to two generators just to have any chances to make it out alive.
But they know it's in vain, they know they're doomed for a long long death by bleeding out.
They know it... Because (Y/N) is with them.
Said survivor had to bite their lip to avoid crying, as guilt and terror embraced them. Just because the monster had this unholy obsession with them it didn't mean they were okay with it, if anything it scared them more.
He, Pyramid Head, the Executioner... Or however you want to nickname him, is said to be one of the most powerful creatures the entity had the pleasure to bring, so powerful in fact that the spider-like being had to make a deal to bring him.
So it's not surprising that they are absolutely horrified, but who wouldn't? This monster, an embodiment of pain and punishment, almost a god, has been hunting them relentlessly ever since he laid his gaze or... Helmet? On them.
At first it was all jokes and gags;
'Aww look, (Y/N) has a boyfriend!'
'Watch out, here comes your crush (Y/N)!'
'Uh-oh, the triangle man seems jealous, look how pissed he is at Nea for healing you!'.
But the jokes stopped when it got clear how truly messed up and sinister said 'crush' is.
They still remember it, it was a regular match against that one masked knife wielding guy that runs a lot, he's called 'Legion' they think. The trial was going relatively well, just like many previous ones. Until it suddenly got an 180° turn when one of the walls to the realm was literally destroyed by a hulking mass of muscle and a giant knife. To say both (Y/N) and the killer nearly had a cardiac arrest was an understatement, things got so ugly that the entity had to intervene and cut the trial short.
That incident could be a fuel for a new wave of jokes, could... If it didn't happen again. And that next time was even worse, the beast nearly made his way into the survivor side of the realm, somehow bursting through the barrier the entity had created to keep the survivors separated from the killers to avoid any pity fights after trials.
Ever since that event, Pyramid Head was strictly kept in 'his' realm, aka Midwich Elementary School.
Sometimes, after escaping through the gates and running back into the camp through the fog, (Y/N) could swear they can hear the monster roar in the distance. Loud, distorted and fierce howls resonating somewhere behind the dense fog, as if the creature was desperately trying to yell out their name. Either to let them know how badly he wants them or a promise to break free and get them... Both possibilities giving them chills.
The entity of course wasn't okay with this, it was pissed! But it also could do so little... The great deal now had turned into a major curse. If the deal is broken, the Executioner won't hesitate to damage the realm to get what he wants. But if it remains, the monster will find new ways to bend the rules and make it everyone's problem.
Why the entity doesn't just give (Y/N) to the beast or gets rid of them ones for all? No one really has the answer. Some think it's due the entity's pride, or the possibility of the executioner going ballistic. For now, it's more of a silent (and petty) battle between two stubborn beings, each of them refusing to back away from their goal.
Goal. The entity's goal, though still confusing, is more or less clear; force people and creatures to play these twisted games and feed on those who get sacrificed. But the executioner's goal? It's straight up a mystery. (Y/N) know it has something to do with them, but... Why them exactly? Why not Cheryl? Didn't she come from the same place as that beast? What the monster even wants them for?
What will he do when he finally gets his hands on them? Wh-
A rough shake snapped (Y/N) out of their internal break down.
They blink a couple of times, tears of fear nearly sliding down their cheeks as their body shivers. They were scared, more than the other three survivors combined.
The survivor holding them by their shoulders, David, sighs when he finally notices them react.
—"Look, I know you're scared..."— he starts talking, his voice surprisingly calm.
—"I'm-... I- I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry-..."— you choke out in a weak wobbly voice, guilt eating you from inside.
—"No no. Just listen for a sec. I... Well, we all can tell that you aren't enjoying it neither. So, let's not break down into a soap opera, okay? Don’t think of this as hopeless match, but as another chance to woop that asshole's ass and escape."—
—"And also leave him empty handed!"— Feng announces from her place while already working on a generator.
—"Yeah, screw that triangular piece of shit! Let's try out Dwight's strategy this time. You remember it, do you?"— he asks you, not letting go of your shoulders yet.
The surprisingly positive and reassuring words of their teammates towards them really soothed and even cheered (Y/N) a bit. With a small smile they quickly wipe their eyes before nodding.
—"Good, see? We're already starting on a good note!"— he lets go to then pat your back, basically pushing you forward. —"Now go help with a gen before putting the 'plan' into work."—
Though the push hurt a bit, (Y/N) didn't care at all about the pain, too focused on keepings all the negative and pessimistic thoughts away.
For the first minute and a half everything was going well, (Y/N) and Feng were working on one generator while David and Jonah were working on the other one. The four of them were dead silent, straining their ears for any of the sounds the creature makes, such as heavy footsteps, the scraping of his gigantic knife or their own heartbeat. Weirdly enough, everything was calm... Too calm.
(Y/N) nearly choked with air when a cold chill ran through their spine.
Spine Chill. The beast... Is watching them.
They attempt to subtly alert Feng by carefully tapping her leg, but as soon as their fingertips touched the other girl’s skin, their heartbeat started to get louder and louder, until…
—“WATCH OUT!”—
(Y/N) exclaimed as they pushed Feng, just in time to dodge a bunch of sharp and rusted metal pieces coming out the ground.
—“Holy-...”— she mutters.
Now that the monster is here, the four survivors decided to put in action the mentioned strategy.
They all let go of the generators and run away in different directions, (Y/N) being the most desperate while running since they know exactly who the beast is targeting.
His pattern is always the same; chase after until sending them into a cage to then down all of their teammates and then come straight back to all caged and helpless (Y/N) and then… Stare or touch them until the others bleed out or the entity has enough.
The difference in the current case, is that (Y/N) is not playing just cat and mouse. In fact, chasing them is the worst the killer can do. All of their abilities are chase oriented, another teammate lurking around has all the boon ones, while the last two have all is needed to rush through the generators. If everything works out, the monster will get himself in a situation where he's be forced to leave (Y/N) alone.
The chase was intense, at least for (Y/N). Despite never catching a clear view of the Executioner, they could feel him close behind, following them methodically like a wild animal on a hunt, waiting for the right moment to strike while keeping up the tension.
It was hard to maintain the focus, every single hallways in The Game looked the exact same. Did they vaulted that window already? Didn't they pre-dropped that palled over there? Did Feng placed it up again? Are the other two working on the generators? Have they taken this left path before?
So many questions where swarming their mind as their legs kept carrying them on, only momentarily relaxing when two generators finally made that distinguish noise.
Two done! Tree left.
A breathless laugh escaped from them. Great! This is already going better than all of their previous encounters with the Executioner, which would always end with the first generator barely reaching 30%.
However, their smile was quickly swept when they realized they no longer hear their heartbeat or thundering footsteps tailing behind. It was silent, dead silent, with no other sounds that their own breathing.
A wave of anxiety flushed through (Y/N) like a tsunami wave and started to drag and drown them deeper into their own worries.
What the?... Okay, this was not part of the plan. The Executioner had never left the chase with them, never. So the fact that he finally did, and apparently a while ago, made them shake.
With nothing else to do, they gather the courage to start moving again. Where? Somewhere! Anywhere but to stay in place and be an easy target to the beast that so desperately wants them.
They keep running, stopping only for a brief moment before turning a corner, making sure they don't hear any muffled breathing that at times resembled growls. They learned the hard way with the Shape that some killers like to wait around corners, and they don't want to commit the same mistake right now.
Their heart jerked when they heard a scream resonate from their left, and a faint reddish aura in the shape of a human gleamed for a second before disappearing.
David is down.
And it seems like he's not getting picked up, which could either mean that the monster is setting up a trap or chasing someone else. Whichever the case is, they shouldn't go-
They hear a bunch of footsteps come their way, and in a set of panic they crouch behind a bunch of boxes, silently praying that their disguise is mildly good.
They can't see much from their spot, but they can clearly recognize the shape of Jonah running away from something massive.
As soon as the two figures passed by, (Y/N) gets up and takes off running towards David to check on him.
After some wondering around the labyrinth-like place, they finally reach their injured teammate, who was still on the ground and groaning from pain.
—"{David!}"— you whisper-yell as you start running towards him.
He weakly lifts his head just enough to see them. When he recognized who it is, he starts to frantically shake his head.
—"NO! GET THE FUCK OUT!"—
Huh? What-
As (Y/N) is about to reach David, a path of sharp metal pieces and razor wires had emerged right in front of them, just when they're about to make contact with the floor again, making in impossible to dodge.
The second their leg got tangled into the sharp metallic mess, everything went too fast. They don't even have time to pull away as something sliced them on their side, sending them directly on the ground.
They send a guilty and ashamed glance to David, who had an frustrated expression.
—"{Sorry...}"— you mouth.
(Y/N) has no chance to see David's answer as a massive hand suddenly curled around their throat and forced them to look away from the other man.
Their eyes wide at the sight of the beast menacingly hovering over their helpless form, holding their body in place between him and the ground. The muscles of his extended arm were tense, his breathing heavy, almost like he's holding back the anger and displeasure caused by them giving attention to someone else.
Their heart skipped beats, their breath uneven, their eyes watered as they tightly closed them, not wanting to witness whatever this thing was about to do. They can feel the warmth coming from his body, his breathing slowly stabilizing, as if staring at them and watching them slowly submit was enough to calm the monster. Ironically, it did the complete opposite to (Y/N), as their own heartbeat raised from the anxiety of having to face the unknown, attempt to predict the unpredictable and prepare to witness another massacre unfold around them at any second... Just to then end up caged and at the mercy of this-
—"LEAVE THEM ALONE ASSHOLE!"— David angrily yells from his place, struggling and trying to stand up. —"You're fucking terrifying, of course they don't want to look at you!"—
They can feel Pyramid Head's hand tense and start shaking, his fingers twitching and pressing further into their skin. (Y/N) was beyond terrified now, just a little bit of pressure and the creature could crush their throat like a cardboard tube.
David, though clearly using all of his strength, ended up falling back on the ground, as if some invisible weigh is actively pushing him down.
—“You freak! Absolute sick fuck! Let them go already!”—
As the waterfall of profanities continues, (Y/N) slowly places their hands around the monster’s wrist to attempt to push his hand away, unfortunately he didn’t budge at all.
Suddenly, David’s stops screaming and the very next second (Y/N) feels something warm and slippery press against their cheek.
They jerk in place at the uncanny sensation and shoot open their eyes, a breathless gasp escaping them at the sight of a… Wh-What even is that? A freaking tentacle? A tongue?…
The dark pink muscle wiggles in front of their face for a moment before licking another stride, wiping some of their tears and blood in the process, making (Y/N) shiver in discomfort.
They shoot a confused glance to David, desperately wanting to know if he’s witnessing this too. The man had an expression of pure ‘what the fuck’; eyes narrowed, brows furrowed and mouth slightly gaping.
This eye contact was brief though. (Y/N) got startled for a loud growl that reverbed from the beast's chest and helmet. The hand finally leaves their throat as the beast stands up to his full height and starts making his way to David, leaving them alone, as well as his knife?
(Y/N) throws their teammate a scared look, but David responds with a forced smirk.
—"Ah, now you decide to drag your big ass towards me."— he mutters through gritted teeth.
The monster seem to not react to his taunts. With each step that he takes towards David, his mask of confidence seems to crack.
Nevertheless, the man didn’t back out from his insults, he never does.
—“What’s wrong? Why so pissy, huh?! Jealous that (Y/N) prefers us?!”—
Saying their name was a sore spot to hit, and the way Pyramid Head reacted confirmed that.
The monster roughly grabs David by the neck, completely ignoring the fact that he’s not even holding his weapon. Instead he uses his bare hands to silence him.
Nasty, wet and crunchy sounds resonated through the room and hallways as the creature began to tear the man’s body limb by limb, piece by peace, unbothered by the pained screams of his victim or the low groan of displeasure that resonated from above for again not playing by the rules.
(Y/N) froze in horror at the sight in front of them. Blood, chunks of flesh and bone pieces where flying everywhere, never before they’ve witnessed this type of gore, not even during the ‘mori’.
Though it felt like the massacre lasted hours, it was actually second. The monster threw the whatever remaining he had in his hands and slowly turned back to (Y/N), who was still frozen and unable to look away from what was left from David. They know they will meet again in the fire camp, in one piece and alive, but god they felt sick...
Their shock breaks only when the thundering footsteps began to resonate again, shaking the ground underneath them with each the creature took. He grew closer, and closer, with them being able to do absolutely nothing aside from attempting to crawl away.
But that pity attempt was stopped when the same sharp wires and rusty metal pieces emerged from the ground and wrapped around their body, pulling them slowly underneath and sinking them further into the ground. And before they realize it, their body is already trapped in that rotten metallic cage.
Cold metal spikes just inches away from their flesh, so close to penetrate their skin, a wrong move and they would undoubtedly get hurt. But even if they wanted to move, they couldn't really. The space in the structure was small, claustrophobic even, each spike perfectly adjusted to keep their form in place. In some twisted way, it felt like a hug, a very cold, unwelcoming and unnerving hug.
They flinch when they hear a scream resonate from somewhere, which was cut by a loud slam.
Feng was caught.
It seems like the Executioner didn't bother to down her, rather getting rid of her directly, most likely because he's aware that Jonah is not keen of going for rescues...
And speaking of the man, there is his aura flashing before (Y/N)'s eyes as his body fell on the floor.
He's down... Which means that-
Before they even finish their conclusion, the tall figure of the monster appeared. Just by looking at them his behavior seemed to change; movements more erratic and pace uneven, almost like he's hypnotized.
He makes his way to them, slowly, as if purposely building up the tension.
(Y/N) wanted to look away or close their eyes, but whenever they did so the cage felt painfully small. It hurt, literally, so they stare at that beast grow closer with wide shaky eyes that struggled to keep their focus on him. This is something Pyramid Head was always good at, he could always make you fear, even the toughest bravest ones would inevitably succumb to the terror his presence brings.
Ones in front of them, the creature stops in place and simply stares, like he always did.
(Y/N), though still scared, was a tiny bit relieved that this is what the rest of the trial would be; them being pinned like a butterfly with the monster observing.
It would be just that.
Just this bizarre staring contest.
...Right?
WRONG.
The creature suddenly let go of his weapon and grabs the edges of the cage with both hands quite violently.
Now the little hope and comfort (Y/N) had was thrown out the window, as now they realize they no longer have any idea of what will happen next.
And by what it looks like, the entity is not planning to intervene, as if curious itself to see what will happen next.
Pyramid Head remains like this, his big hands tightly squeezing the imperfect metal bars, bending them slightly and making the already miserable looking material groan from the pressure he was applying.
It looked like he wanted to destroy that cage, rip it apart and get to them, but didn't do it by holding himself back... Why? What's even the point of this build up? What's even the point in wanting them?!
—"{Wh-...Why?...}"— you choke out in a very quiet voice. —"{Why a-are you d-... doing this?...}"—
(Y/N) knows is stupid to ask, Pyramid Head can't even speak! But they can't help themselves, they're too scared, their anxiety is unbearable and their thoughts are too out of control. They need answers, anything that could even hint for a possible explanation of the killer's intentions.
They began to second guess their decision to speak when the creature froze in place, even his breath was now inaudible. This was the first time (Y/N) spoke directly to the monster, but they didn't expect him to react at this fact, not like this, or at all.
But he did, he did acknowledged that little detail, and he will make sure they acknowledge it too.
The creature soon moves again, by slowly leaning closer and slightly tilting his head to the side, almost like trying to get a better look at them.
His breathing got heavier, low huffs and growls resonating from that metallic helmet of his. It really looked like he was actively holding back some major urge or desire, but what it is?
(Y/N) wanted to ask again, but decided against it as there is little Pyramid Head could do to answer, and even if he could, why should he? Maybe it's more amusing to him to see them helplessly wondering in the dark and unable to comprehend what's going on.
Or maybe, there is simply nothing to explain?... Maybe he does what he does just because? Human mind is way too used to seek for reasons and explanations for anything and everything, often forgetting that sometimes the answer is way too simple or straight up null, could that be the case?
The same groan coming from the cage bars pulled (Y/N) out of their thoughts. They forget how to breathe at the sight of the structure slowly collapsing as the monster starts to rip the bars with his raw strength.
A scared yelp escaped them as they try to back further into the cage as much as they can, ignoring the sharp edges that scratched or pierced their body. They barely felt pain, none at all actually, the adrenaline and basic survival instincts keeping their body resilient and ready to run. The sad part is, is that there is nowhere to run, nothing to do. It's sweet that their body tries so desperately to keep their hopes up and reassure their survival, but their mind is more than aware of the cold desolated reality...
The front part of the cage was eventually ripped off and thrown against the floor violently. (Y/N) can only cover their eyes with their hands and quietly sob as they wait for whatever the monster had planned to do next.
Even when no further actions are made, they refuse to look. They no longer want to face this thing, they no longer want to suffer this torment. Regardless if they believed in any religion or no, they mutter silent prayers under their breath, but not no save them, but to make it end and to know how sorry they are for any evil or harm they've did in their life that leaded to such tragic conclusion.
But this is where the catch is... They've committed none. At least from the Executioner's perspective.
Despite their whispers being so silent to a non-existent point, Pyramid Head heard them loud and clear. And the more he heard their voice, the more he felt the inside of his chest burn and the desire for them grow even more. (Y/N) is not perfect, they're human after all, and all humans have their fair share of flaws and defects... But unlike the rest, (Y/N) has the ability to acknowledge said imperfections and genuinely try to make up for them, to fix them... Regardless if they get something in return or not.
This, this is the true purity in a human being. An innocence and kindness so genuine that it would be a sin not to worship and protect... And who is a best fit to take care of it other than the fearsome Pyramid Head?
(Y/N)... So pure... So innocent... So kind... He must keep them save.
He must keep them...
He wants them...
W̴͕̳͈͔̭̝͠ͅ a̶̩̰̲̎̓͊̈̓̕ ǹ̴̢͇̬̘̗̯̜̍̋͊͠͝͠ ṭ̶͇̃̔͝ s̶̭̩͔̹̝̼̅̍̆̉͌͝
As the monster is about to reach them, a spider like legs burst out through the floor and wrap themselves around (Y/N).
The trial... Is over.
And while the absolutely livid roar gets overshadowed by the groans of the entity as the black fog surrounds the whole place. (Y/N) only keeps quietly sobbing as they cling to the spider leg sticking out of their chest. And though they knew the entity is the main responsible of their current torment, they were too overwhelmed with emotions to properly process their actions.
Surprisingly, the spider-like being didn't disappear right away, probably feeling pity for their situation and allowing them to cry for a brief moment, most likely to compensate this unplanned mess they have to deal with.
To everyone's surprise in the camp, when (Y/N) finally arrived they where unconscious, either passed out after such emotional roller coaster or the entity wants them take some genuine rest. Whatever the case it, it didn't matter, what matters is that their fellow friend is back save and sound, right?
As one of the survivors decided to take them closer to the bonfire for warmth and comfort, they could swear they heard some weird noises from afar.
It resembled a demonic cry filler with rage, so distant yet menacing. Everyone instinctively shivered.
And though (Y/N) successfully 'survived' yet another trial with the executioner, almost everyone had the gut feeling that the next encounter they have with the beast, it will not end good...
They all take a glance at their still unconscious form.
Poor (Y/N)...
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petew21-blog · 2 months ago
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Revenge possession, part 2
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"So what is this game called again?" I asked out loud with Devon's voice.
Devon in the back of our mind:"Dead by daylight. You play either as a survivor or the killer. Depending on the role you have to escape or kill all the survivors."
I chuckled a bit:"You don't see how that's ironic?"
Devon was silent. "I'm so sorry, man. Jesus, I didn't think this through. Haha. Well... you should be good in this game right?"
Me:"Not really. I kinda didn't even know I was being hunted. Your parents just picked me up and then tortured me in the woods. I didn't have much of a chance to even run."
Devon:"Oh... I'm so sorry for that, man. My parents are horrible people."
Me:"Yeah. And I know they killed much more people than just me. That's why it needs to stop"
Devon:"So are you sure that killing them would be the best revenge for all these years of their murder spree?"
Me:"What else can I do? It's not like I had much of a choice. Few days ago I didn't even have a body. Now I co-share yours. Yeah, stealing their sons body is good revenge too, but you're a good person. And I don't want to take over your life."
Devon:"Not what I was aiming for. I honestly love having you here with me. You're like a second voice/brother/best friend inside of me. Oh shit. I just figured. I keep calling you bro. What's your real name?"
Me:"Paul. Took you long to ask, man. Not cool"
Devon:"Sorry, haha. So... Paul. You're like 40 now, right?"
Me:"I would be if your parents didn't kill me. But I died when I was 21 like you are now. So my mind basically stayed 21 I suppose. Except for roaming the country I didn't have much fun through all these years. These past few days as you, just chilling here, playing video games, jerking off and talking to you is the most fun I had over these 20 years."
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Devon took control over his body to let go of the controler and to flex his biceps. The sweat hitting his nose.
Me:"What are you doing? I thought we were gonna play?"
Devon:"Nah, just reminding you what body you're in"
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Devon:"Look at me man. I have beautiful abs, massive arms. These thighs could crush a melon between them. I appreciate that you picked me and that you like my body, but you gotta do something about this. We gotta go have fun. With another living being."
Me:"Devon... I really am happy how you treat me in your body, but... I don't think we have the same type of dating pool"
Devon:"I don't care whoever you fuck. I'm straight, or atleast I think I am, but very accepting. And if my man inside of me wants to fuck some handsome man, I will be more than happy to help you out. Bros gotta help each other"
Me:"But it's gonna be your body, man."
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Devon:"So? You could do much worse with my body and you didn't. Getting fucked or fucking someone in the ass is not so bad."
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Me:"Ok? So what place do you suggest?"
Devon:"Gym. We can show everyone what this body can do. Lot of people observe me there, so you can pick whoever you desire"
We arrived to the gym. So many hot and sexy people in sight. Devon took control to do his normal routine. It sucks that I could also have a body like this, but back in the day I wanted to see the world. I wanted to be myself in a world that hates my kind. Twenty years later, the world is so much more accepting. It's not ideal, but wow. How things gave changed
I still can't believe that Devon let's me stay in his body. I mean, look at him. He could be anything, have anyone. And yet this hot piece of meat is depressed with his easy life, being alone most of the time. I guess that's what happens when your serial killer parents move your family every now and then. You don't have any friends and those that you did might already be dead by their hand. How horrible... I honestly can't wait to see them. To look them in their face. With their son's face and to kill them. I hope Devon will forgive me. I know he says he wants to stop them, but it's his parents. I just have to make sure that he will not stop me when the time comes
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Devon was just finishing up, when a cute twink approached us.
The guy:"Hey, I hope you don't mind that I was watching you"
Devon:"Nah, it's ok man. You need a hand with lifting?"
The guy smiled. "Oh I do need a hand, I just don't know If I asked the right person"
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Devon sat down, looking all confused:"That depends if..."
I stopped Devon mid sentence. "I think that's a cue for me to take over, ok?"
Devon now in the back of my mind:"Sorry man, I usually don't respond to guys hitting on me. Go on. Have fun"
I smiled at the guy and casually finished the sentence
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We headed to the showers. The owners must be probably sick with all these guys hooking up here. But we didn't care. We made out passionately. The twins was all over my muscles, as I would be in his place too. He was a bit smaller. That gave me a sense of dominating him.
I stopped and smiled at the guy. "I... just gotta let you know that I am a virgin"
Devon:"What!!! Dude, you never had sex with anyone?"
The guy looked at me from top to bottom. "You? If good looking people like you are virgins, then I have no idea how world works."
I chuckled nervously. It was true. I was 21 when I died, but back then it was much harder to date a find gay guy. Now you can just download Grindr and in a few minutes you got yourself a guy in your bedroom
Twink:"Well in that case we can go to your place and have some fun there. This isn't a very nice place to have your first time, don't you think"
I just smiled and nodded in approval
We were now in Devon's messy room. The guy was really shocked to see such a straight man cave, but didn't say a word. We made out. He took off my shirt soaked in sweat from gym. His lips now kissed my neck and went to over my pecs, down the middle to my waist band. He took my hard dick into his hand, squeezed hard and looked me deep into my eyes. His look was so full of lust, yet I could tell it was superficial. This guy isn't looking for romance. He just wants to be fucked hard. So let's give it to him
I took a bit of control of the moment. I grabbed him by the neck. Turned him around and pressed him against the wall. He was now moaning in pleasure as I was rubbing my hard dick hidden beneath the layers of my clothes against his ass. I was still holding him, choking him.
I pulled of my shorts and his just low enough to get my dick in there. I wanted to push it right in there. As hard as I could
Devon suddenly screamed out from the back of his mind:"Condom dude!!!"
I left the guy, moanjng against the wall, reaching out to the condom on the shelf. I was struggling to find which side to pick to put it on my dick
Twink:"Wait. Let me" it was obvious he jas done it a few times. The condor was on in a matters of seconds. "Do you have any lube?"
Devon intervened again:"Top drawer. Give him more attention, man. You're making it all about yourself"
"Shut up" I said out loud as a response to Devon, but the guy looked confused. "Oh sorry, not you. I'm just nervous. I have lube right here."
The guy went on Devon's bed on his back. His clothes were now gone and his ass was welcoming my dick. His legs wide open.
I pressed lightly my dick with a ridiculous ammount of lube on top.
It went smoothly so I tried to went all the way. This seemed to hurt the twins. "Hold your horses. I'm good, but not that good. A bit slower, cowboy."
I went in slowly. The pleasure got to Devon too. The way this guys ass was tight around the head of our dick was sending our minds to heaven.
I picked up the pace. The twink was moaning in pleasure and in pain at the same time. I grabbed him by the next to choke him. My other arm pressing his thigh.
Twink:"Harder!" I thought I was going as hard as possible, but I didn't think he could take it much more
Twink:"Harder!!!"
Devon:"Oh, jesus. Let me do it" Devon took over. I was in the back of our mind again. Still feeling everything.
Devon was like a beast, but the twink was really enjoying it.
I could feel all the cum building up. Ooh there's gonna be tons of cum.
Devon was biting his lower líp and furiously pounding this guy's ass. Sure, "Straight" my ass.
Devon:"I'm cumming!!!"
Twink:"Fill me! I want it all"
Devon shot out the stream of cum into the condom. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming. So much, that I lost control for a moment. I didn't know what was happening.
I opened my eyes. Still as Devon. Good. But I was back in control. But I was alone here. I couldn't feel Devon
"DEVON?!?"
Twink:"Right here. You pushed my soul out of my body, dude. If the guy here wasn't as welcoming you would have me erased or something"
Me:"I'm so sorry. I didn't think that would happen."
Devon:"It's fine. This guy's soul is asleep or maybe gone? I don't know. But I can't hear him now. Dude! I could feel my body's orgasm and his orgasm at the same time. I can assure you, that this is definitely the best I'll ever feel. So overwhelming."
Me:"Shit, dude. We gotta figure out how to get you put of there. Or you might be stuck"
Devon:"What if we wait for a bit? I kinda wanna try having sex with my body."
Me:"Kinky. You wanna get pounded too?"
Devon:"Guess I'm not so straight anymore, right?"
After our first fucking session, Devon passed out from all the sex. We still didn't know where this guy's soul was, but we would figure that out soon. I was just happy that I was finally alive. And I even have a boyfriend now? If that's what I can call Devon. Not to put labels on our relationship or anything
I grabbed the first pair of shorts from the floor I could find. Still sweaty from the sex, I headed to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water.
I was interrupted by a dark figure in the corner of the room
"Hello, son"
I was full of rage. But I can't fuck it up now. If I kill him, I won't know where his mom is and that would take me another decade to find her.
"Hey, dad. How was your holiday"
"Oh wonderful. Rome is your mother's favourite place to visit"
I tried to act as much as possible. Devon was in his room in a wrong body, so that wouldn't help me.
"Did you go to Colosseum this time?"
"Oh, we sure did." The father responded. But in the matter of seconds his expression changed. He was now holding a gun pointed at me
"What are you doing, dad?!"
"Devon knows we went to Bahamas"
Fuck. So he knew all along that I'm not Devon. But how?
"Me and my wife found out that the folk like you, who want to have your revenge for what we did, come back as ghosts to make our lives a living hell."
"So I'm not the first one?"
"Hahaha. Of course you're not. The first one came when Devon was 2 years old. Of course he doesn't remember, but that was a nasty one. All the paranormal stuff. We didn't know what we were dealing with back then. But now, oh we are used to deal with you. But possessing Devon is a first. Some possessed us and tried to kill us, but obviously failed."
"How can you tell that I'm not him? Besides the question."
"Oh it's an aura thing. Once you have the experience and a good guidance, you can just tell when a soul isn't in their rightful place."
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"Now, tell me. Did Devon put up a lot of fight? Your answer will change the course of your torture."
"Devon is ok. He's in the body of the guy downstairs. It was an accident"
"Sure it was. That would make sure that we couldn't kill you or him, right? We're not so stupid, mister. Although I will not enjoy killing my son, there is no other choice."
"If you kill me, I will go after you even more. I have for the past 20 years and I will even after you die. My soul will not rest until you burn in hell"
"Sure you can do that, but it will take you some time to get out of this thing."
He was holding a wooden object with symbols
"What is that thing?"
"That mister, is your prison. It will bind you inside, until it breaks, or someone opens it on purpose. Which happens rarely if you ask me."
"You're doing a big mistake. Devon is in his room in a different body. Let him atleast get his body back."
"I can't take that chance. Me and my wife have a life to live up to and we won't stop just because our son got himself in some trouble and can't handle it."
"It's your son! You would kill him just so you can continue your killing spree?"
"Oh, definitely. Having a child is a great thing, but taking a life. That's something you won't ever forget about. The control it gives you."
"You're sick. No parent would ever do this to their child"
From the hallway a second voice spoke:"Oh these two are a chatty couple, right honey? So chatty chatty. But we need to hurry up, so get on with this" the mother said towards her husband
I could feel a horrible pain in my chest. Feelings very similar to the ones I felt 20 years ago. This couple was killing me again
"Sorry Devon. We couldn't have done anything" father said
"Devon hates you too!" I screamed out
"You're talking too much" and then nothing.
I don't know for how long this continued. I don't even know what they did with Devon's beautiful body. How they got rid of it.
Soon I started to feel walls around me. Walls? As a ghost I wouldn't be able to. Except if this is their prison that they were talking about.
I opened my eyes. There was only darkness. Nothing else. I looked around and on the other side of my prison was someone sitting, crying.
I got up to approach this person. He looked up
It was Devon. He was crying
"Paul! They killed me. My own mother slit my throat. I told her it's me. But she just killed me and trapped me into thus thing."
"I'm so so sorry, Devon. I never wanted any of this. I wanted revenge for them. But they were ready. They knew. Your father didn't listen to me too. He didn't care. I told him about your soul. But they are more sadistic then I thought"
"Paul, I'm dead. My parents killed me. My OWN PARENTS!"
"Devon, they are horrible people. And we will get our lives back. Maybe not our old lives, but we will. But first we have to get out of here. We're gonna get through this together. Ok?"
Devon collapsed into my arms. I was just glad that I could hold someone even if I was a ghost now. We were gonna get out of here, but I had no idea how
Outside of the ghost trap, the world went by.
Devon's father held the trap tightly as he watched his old house burn. His wife held her head on his shoulder.
"Ahhh, I think I might miss Devon. He gave our life some order"
"He limited us. We couldn't ve ourselves all the time. Now we can. What do you say we go pick up some hitchhiker?"
"Ohhhh, that's a lovely idea. Get rid of that box, it gives me the creeps"
And as the two of them were laughing while leaving, the box was sinking deeply into the river below the bridge until some human would find it.
If Paul and Devon would know what was happening to then right now, they would be devastated.
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mamashenanigans · 1 year ago
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When my head isn’t filled with “keephishandkeephishandkeephishand” on a loop, I actually think about more stuff from 407.
Someone on X pointed this out, but how wittle baby boy Yoichi is shown here…
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Makes it seem like the people that AFO just killed had maybe beat him up. Of course, AFO is taking their metapowers away too, but it’s an interesting catch. And, yes, Yoichi is wearing fitted clothes while AFO walks around with something just wrapped around him.
You know how Yoichi still believed there was good in his brother because of the kindness of his “hand”?
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Well, in case you missed it…
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They were born apart with their hands already reaching out to each other. They are on their backs right now, so those are the same hands that are holding/being held.
This means…
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AFO grabbed Yoichi and dragged him with him. What you’re seeing in that top panel is the water starting to overflow the river and rush past. AFO pulled Yoichi out of the water and on to their mother. He is also using the spike quirk for teeth and on his hand to grab onto their mother and pull them up. The bottom left panel is him biting into her dress as he pulls them out of the danger of the water. Yes, AFO saved Yoichi when they were fucking newborns. THIS is what Yoichi has a faint memory of. That was the kindness.
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I know some people have been wondering if they’re fraternal or identical. This seems to suggest that they are in fact sharing the same umbilical cord. It’s rare for fraternal twins to have this. It’s crazy to think that Yoichi may have looked just like AFO if he had the same amount of nutrients. But I digress…
A very notable thing about AFO’s eyes: they are huge and creepy in feral/survivor mode. We’ve seen his eyes get like this as AFOTomura and when he goes into rage mode against All Might and now Bakugo.
Here, he is quite literally just walking down the street past the anti-meta people and presumably just heard them talk about killing metas. Once they take notice of him, he turns his head towards them and his eyes are huge like a startled animal.
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He then proceeds to kill them and still has that feral look.
But now let me get to something pretty important…
We don’t see AFO actually smile until this panel
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Once he has a dream of everyone living for his sake, like Yoichi, he is finally smiling. And continues to do so after this point.
Something really bothering me is that they must have named themselves including their surname. Shigaraki means “death tree” which fits in nicely as they were born “from death”. However, where did Yoichi get his name? AFO must have named him and Yoichi can mean “first gift”. So he named him that because Yoichi was QUITE LITERALLY the first thing AFO ever had. As for AFO…I don’t know if he would take the time to name himself. Yoichi only calls him big brother so he may have told Yoichi to just keep calling him that then decided to name himself after the Quirk he also named himself: All for One. Dude is really committed to the bit.
There’s one more thing I haven’t seen anyone touch on yet…
The hatred.
As you probably recall, Hawks has a talk with Best Jeanist over AFO’s lack of emotions and lack of hate. Why he has to use Tomura to get OFA.
406 explained why that is perfectly.
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When he feels hatred, he is forced to remember WHEN HE WAS TOLD HE KILLED HIS BROTHER HOLY SHIT. It would also be possibly the first and only time he ever cried. Felt real grief. So, he never “feels” REAL hatred because that would mean having to confront this memory.
It’s fucking genius.
You’’re welcome.
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eddiesxangel · 3 months ago
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Be Quiet Darling | Eric x Reader
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Cw: aqpdo, porn with an end of the world plot. Oral (m receiving), p in v, use of breeding, no use of pronouns for reader but reader has breasts and a vagina.
Wc: 2k
The city loomed in darkness; its once vibrant streets were now shrouded in an oppressive shade of gray. Following the invasion of New York City, layers of ash and soot blanketed every surface. Despite the efforts of millions to escape, a few thousand souls remained trapped within its confines.
You were among the few thousand who were not so lucky to be stranded in the city, hiding underground in the basements and parking garages.
The bunker was the only place you could call home. It was a sealed-off parking garage located on the lower levels of a towering skyscraper. Months had passed since you had seen the light of day, and the absence of natural light had become the new normal. Quietness enveloped the bunker, and you longed for the sounds of the outside world. Anything but the rumbles of the military battling those creatures. Those aliens who had ultrasonic hearing could still hear you even though you were deep in the ground.
Even if you couldn't speak, you bonded with the people around you, mainly the law student you met named Eric. He had made an impression on you. An ever-growing crush was forming, and you didn’t know how to deal with it. The world was ending, but Eric was in your mind twenty-four-seven. You wanted to be near him; you longed to hear his voice; you wanted him to hold you and tell you everything would work out, that you’d escape this place and live happily ever after with the white picket fence.
Only in your fantasy would that happen, but it was nice to hold onto that dream as you learned the military was on its way to the last remaining survivors. They radioed the bunker to say it wouldn’t be easy, and you may die as the death angels were waiting and hunting still. There were thousands of them in New York State; even up north near the Canadian border was invaded.
The plan was to move everyone at dawn; it was going smoothly, and you and Eric stuck together throughout the march. Holding hands as you silently made your way through the rubbled streets that once held so much life, then the worst happened. Someone sneezed, and they were on you in an instant. Eric pulled you, and you ran with him. Neither of you knew where you were going; the subway was your best bet. You found a staircase that wasn’t barricaded and stumbled your way down as quietly as possible.
It must have been hours. You and Eric were hiding in an isle of an abandoned shop, munching on a bag of cookies that hadn’t been broken. Half an hour ago, you heard the sirens warning you to stay put. It sounded awful in the streets above. The sounds of guns and bombs, the shrieks of the creatures, echoed through the underground tunnels.
You mouthed, “I’m scared,” tears breaching your lash lines.
Eric nods, and you can see his eyes are wet before he reaches over and cups your head into the crook of his neck. You both silently cry before you lift your head and do the unthinkable at a time like this. You kiss him.
Surprisingly, Eric kisses you back, but you’ll take anything from him that he will give.
The moment your lips touched, you felt his weight sink into you, like he wanted this just as badly as you did. You desperately wanted Eric to hold you, tell you everything would be okay, and protect you from the abovementioned monsters.
Your hands found his waistband and tugged on the belt loops to pull you in closer. You knew it would be so stupid to do anything else; you could die in an instant, but your primal need to procreate and survive was taking over.
His hands grabbed your waist as he pulled you closer to him as well, so close you could feel how hard his cock had gotten. You both have wanted this for so long, but you dare not utter a sound as the passion grew stronger.
Your hands bravely went lower, and Eric pulled away, looking at you with those eyes that make your heart race. He bobbed slowly to confirm this was okay, and you slowly pulled the zip to make as little noise as possible.
Eric’s chest fell up and down with each breath of anticipation as he watched you so close to where he wanted you to touch him the most. Through all of this madness, he had fallen deep and had for you and yearned for your affection. All he wanted was to hold you, for you to tell him that it would be okay, that you both would survive this and live happily ever after.
You fold down his dress pants and hold back a giggle when you see his cowboy boxers. He rolls his eyes in embarrassment; of course, these were the only other pair of underwear he could find this morning. However, that didn’t deter you from kissing him deeply. You kissed him passionately, letting your tongue slip past his plush pink lips as your hand ran the outline of his cock through his corny boxers. His endearing ways made you want him much more now that you’re alone, hiding from what was above.
Eric wanted to let out a moan so badly when your fingertip grazed the head of his cock through the thin cotton. He was already leaking so much precum there was a little wet patch that had formed. You circled it with your thumb before you slipped your hand under the waistband and pulled it out.
The lighting in the small store was dim, but your eyes had adjusted so you could see what you were working with. You smiled to yourself as you observed the thick shaft in your hands. Your pussy clenched around nothing as visions of him stretching you out flooded your thoughts.
“So big,” you mouthed, and Eric bashfully looked down, shaking his head. You hooked your index finger under his chin for him to look at you again, and you nodded yes while biting your lip.
You don’t break eye contact as you sink down to take him in your mouth.
The moment your hot, wet tongue touches his head with a kitten lick, he has his fist in his mouth to stifle the noise he was about to make. You would have begged him to hear those moans in any other situation, but you’ll now yearn in silence.
You want to praise him, tell him how good he was for being so quiet, and tell him how strong and handsome he is.
Eric ran his hand over the top of your head, gripping your hair l, surprising you a little. Your soft sweet teddy bear of a man taking a little bit of charge on how you sucked his cock was so hot. He only puts a little pressure on your head to take him further and releases the tension when you take him the furthest you can. The velvety walls of his shaft guided against your tongue so smoothly that you loved feeling him in your mouth. You couldn’t wait for him to split open your pussy.
A small gasp escaped his throat that sounded like a “fuck,” but you stopped and froze in place to make sure that nothing heard it.
You looked at him through your lashes, and he mouthed a “sorry.”
You pulled up off him, and he thought he had ruined it, thought you no bother trusted him to continue, but when he saw you were unbuttoning your jeans and lifting up your top, he relaxed his tense shoulders.
“Please,” you mouthed, as sores your legs wide for him to come between. You wanted to feel him inside of you, and you didn’t know how much longer you had.
Eric nodded his head percussively as he crawled towards you, and you lay down, resting your head on an unopened cardboard box.
You hold in a moan as Eric kisses your exposed body. He started at your lips and worked his way down your neck, to your shoulders, to your breasts, staying as he paid close attention to each nipple. He looked up at you with those big brown eyes as he sucked and flicked your sensitive buds. Your pussy grew wetter by the seconds as he kissed your tummy and stopped right above the tufts of hair that led to your needy pussy. You wanted nothing more than to have him go down on you, but your need to be filled was stronger.
You shake your head before he can move an inch closer, and he looks at you in confusion. Eric knows he gives amazing head. He wants to feel you cuming on his tongue for him, to taste him, but when he sees your plead for him to fuck you, he can’t say no.
You watch as Eric nods and aligns his cock yo to your entrance. You watch his face as he slowly sinks into you, your pussy aiming him in so tight that he lets his mouth fall open but doesn’t dare let out a sound as you kiss him. With an elbow propped up beside your head, he takes your face in the other as he ungulates his hips to thirst up into you with such precision.
The way he slowly rolled his hips so that he couldn’t make a sound made you want to cry out. It felt so good. You haven’t felt good in weeks. You slowly leaked a few tears as it was all so much to handle. You break as you hold back a sniffle, and Eric kisses your tears away; he coos you silently, whispering so lowly that he’s got you, that you’re doing so well for him, how you’re taking his cock so good.
You wanted to beg him to fill you with his cum, that you’ll be so good for him, that you love him, that he’s all you have left in this world. You want to be his so severely that it hurts. Even now, as his hips roll into yours, as his cock is hitting that spot deep up inside you, you want to scream that you want him to mark you, claim you, breed you.
But you can’t. All you can do is kiss him and pull him in closer; your feet wrap around him, making his thrusts sharper as your pussy clamps down on his thick hard cock that is making you see stars.
Your wet pussy threatens to echo throughout the tunnels of the subway, but Eric slows down and reaches down between you to circle your clit. You let in a sharp breath as he massages your swollen bud. You’re so close you can feel it. You stare at him, not daring to look away to break you into reality.
Right now, it was you and him. Nothing else mattered. You both needed this to feel something other than fright and loneliness.
As you unfold for him, you and Eric stare into one another’s eyes. A silent scream of pleasure doesn’t dare leave your throat, but you let your jaw fall open and arch up into your orgasm. Eric wants to tell you so badly that you did so good for him that your pussy feels so delicious as you cum on his cock. The way you clamp down on him has his head spinning as well, your hot spend coating his cock, making your wet walls all that much warmer, tighter and wetter for him. He can’t help but release himself deep inside of you.
With heavy breath, you both lay there in silence, unable to say anything, but you both know that it was good, great, fantastic sex. Eric kisses you again for confirmation, and you gladly roll your hips into his softening cock before he pulls out.
What could be between the two of you with words could be amazing, but for now, this is what you have to survive.
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sleepyangelkami · 5 months ago
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Recently got into the walking dead and let me just say i’m obsessed with your carl fics. It’s alarming how many times i’ve read them lmao.
CLINGY c.grimes
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 ☆ WORD COUNT - 2.4K
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CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER
 ☆ SUMMARY - being clingy was the most natural thing in you and carl's relationship after all the trauma you'd both endured. but when things get too much for carl, he shuts you out, leaving you to assume only the worst.
 ☆ WARNINGS - clingy relationship, crying, blood, gore, mentions of death, walkers, mean!carl, yelling, stress, mentions of violence, weapons, (2) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷
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clingy was a word you had much distaste for.
when the world literally ended, there wasn't much to do aside from survive and hold onto your loved ones. you'd been alone so long, people slowly falling, dying, leaving. before you knew it, it was just you and the group you'd found. well, they'd found you.
more specifically, he'd found you.
the boy with the sheriff's hat, eyeing you with his gun in the air. you made no sudden movements, eyes cast down on the ground as if you didn't care whether or not the bullet would fly from his gun.
it was just you in the house they'd raided. you didn't have a family, nor a group. just you, covered in blood, starved and in a kind of fetal position, knees pressed against your chest as you eyed the pool of blood surrounding you. some of your own, some from the ones before.
when you'd met the group, you had nothing. dead parents, dead siblings, nothing seemed to matter anymore. the world was gone, the people you loved either dead, taking the easy way out or leaving it to the walkers. or perhaps they'd left you, walking out when things got tough, leaving you and the remains of your family behind.
the screams from outside of the house would alert you of their soon fate afterwards.
you opened up, albeit it was slow.
you liked to believe there was an instant connection between you and the boy. he lowered his gun almost instantly, realising you weren't a threat behind the blood and glassy eyes. how he'd known, you weren't sure. he just did.
he rushed towards you, calling downstairs for his father in a panic.
you didn't speak much at first, staring when he'd offered his name. carl grimes. the boy you'd soon learn to love.
and with time, you made a new family. daryl dixon was a good idea for a father, you soon learned, carol sort of alike a mother when she snuck you an extra one of her homemade cookies.
you lost others, more fell. but you and carl never frayed.
rick and michonne would always catch you together, smiling and looking at one another knowingly. it was safe to say that it was no surprise when carl announced you were together. after all, you were practically joined by the hip.
this brings us back to the beginning. the word clingy.
you hated the word as much as you hated the death surrounding you. could anyone truly be clingy in a world like this? is anyone really too much? you liked to believe that there was no such thing as too much anymore. people died, left, separated. any day could be someone's last. you'd prefer to know that you'd spent all the time with them as you could.
if that was clingy, then so be it.
carl was used to this side of you, he catered to it, if anything, he matched it. he was used to the way you laid against him, talking lowly as he went about his tasks.
there was a grey cloud looming over alexandria at a time like this. the survivors were getting more powerful and it was plaguing carl's mind. you did your best to be as gentle as you possibly could, attempting to console the boy but it seemed no matter what you did, he would find himself bubbling over with anger.
"will you pass me the carving knife?" he cut you off mid-speech, ignoring the way your lips instantly shut closed, eyes searching your side of the table.
you weren't hanging from the boy as you usually were, picking at his hands and fingers, playing with them as though they were dough. you weren't snuggling into him while he placed his arm around you. your normal routine simply didn't exist with the past week or so.
but if space was what he needed, you were more than happy to offer that to him. "okay." you mumbled, picking up the knife you thought was the carving knife and passing it to him.
you didn't know much about knives and guns, usually sitting your head on your knees and listening to the boy speak about them. yet, every time he told you what was what and their intent, everything went in one ear and out the other. he'd often admire the way you asked a thousand questions over, one's he'd already answered. he'd only smile, answering them again.
now you realised perhaps you should have been listening.
apparently, you'd passed him the wrong one. you heard what you assumed was a swear pass his lips in a whisper as he placed the knife back to the table roughly. "what's wrong?" you questioned softly, watching him pick up a thinner knife, sanding it down with the block in his hand.
"got the wrong one." but his voice was anything but the gentle carl you knew and loved. this one was sort of mean, a tone of anger behind his words. "how many times have i explained all of them to you? i mean, you still don't know, seriously?"
it seemed as though the dark cloud over alexandria had moved into the room belonging to carl grimes. you found yourself sneaking your knees closer to your chest, just like the day he'd found you. "sorry." you mumbled, glancing away.
confrontation wasn't exactly your forté.
it didn't help that fighting with carl was a rare experience. "maybe if you just listened to me every now and again we wouldn't have this problem."
offence took over your face, brows knitting together. "I do listen to you." but when he talked about things like knives and guns it was sort of hard for you to keep up.
a scoff left his lips. "sure you do." angry carl never failed to show you a different side of the boy you loved.
you stared at him in shock, wondering where the sudden attitude towards you was coming from. you knew he was stressed, understood it even but you'd done nothing to deserve the hatred being thrown your way.
that was when the shaky, "why're you being so mean?" left your lips.
like i said, confrontation wasn't something you practiced often. you were sort of unsure of where to go in this situation.
carl breathed out a ragged breath, practically throwing the tools onto the table. you jumped slightly, staring at him with widened eyes. "maybe you're the one being too clingy." his eyes stared into yours but they didn't look like the ones you'd fallen for so deeply. "just..." breathing through his nose. "just leave me alone for a bit, yeah?"
clearly, he wasn't in the mood for any of this.
and neither were you.
you spoke no words as you quickly scooped up the bag on the ground, making a haste exit towards the door. the sound of a quick sniffle before you shut the door closed was enough for the weighing bricks to fall down on carl.
the sudden severity of the situation dawned on the boy.
he'd made you cry.
and he swore never to be the cause of your tears.
he didn't run after you, though, much too caught up in his own head. the stress of the entire situation of the saviours was weighing on him too. he crashed his elbows onto the table, shoving his head between his hands and groaning. he wondered if he'd ever get anything right.
before he could get too far with the self pity, his bedroom door swung open to reveal his father.
"what was that?" the older man questioned, not giving a clue to what he was talking about. but carl could guess. "y/n just ran out of here crying, you have somethin' to do with that?"
in a moment like this, disappointed dad gazing at him, carl would have done anything to wipe that look off his face. "dad, you don't get it―" about to explain himself, weave out of whatever this was.
"i don't care." was the answer he gave, having better things to be doing than sorting out this teenage relationship himself. "fix it." and finally slamming the door.
rick always taught carl how respect worked, he punished him when he was wrong, rewarded him when he was right. he didn't teach him to act like this.
it was night fall when carl finally found himself walking around the town of alexandria. he was sort of hoping you were out here instead of back at home for he really didn't feel like speaking to daryl at the door and asking were you home. however, he searched every nook and cranny, every place you usually went when you were upset and yet he walked back empty handed, realising you definitely hadn't been outside.
finally, he found himself standing on your doorstep, sucking in a breath before knocking on the white door, the light from above shining down on his face making him squint.
the door opened to reveal carol, thankfully not daryl. carl really couldn't imagine what daryl would have to say to him right about now. he just hoped he was out hunting somewhere or other, at least then he wouldn't get the urge to haul the boy off his front porch.
"y/n?" is all carol questioned, she was dressed in her own hunting attire and carl could only guess that she was on her way out too.
he pressed his lips into a thin line. "she home."
the woman nodded. "upstairs." before swapping places with the boy, making her way outside while inviting him in. "carl." he looked towards her. "don't make me regret leaving you inside."
he only nodded, allowing her to close the door from the outside.
finally, the silence of your house enveloped him.
you, carol and daryl all lived in the same two story house but sometimes it seemed only you lived here. all the decorations were your work, pictures and photo frames, some of before, some of now, everything screamed... you.
it was that cosiness about you that made him fall for you all that time ago.
his boots found the stairs, making his way up and finding your bedroom door, the last door on the right hallway.
your door was white, a brass handle leading him into the room he'd seen a thousand times before.
he'd imagine your room at the other side of the door, pretty pink bedsheets with matching curtains. he'd found the curtains for you on a separate occasion, you'd been over the moon. and the pretty lights that decorated your walls along with the picture frames and the stuffed animal he'd found tucked away in your bloodied back so long ago, now fresh against your bed.
a sort of comfort from the world before.
he knocked, receiving no answer.
"sweetheart? it's carl." again, he was met with the mere silence as his fingertips hung heavy against the door handle. "i'm coming in, okay?" it wasn't a question, more like a warning.
when he did walk in, he was met with a sight he'd seen before.
tears coating the edges of your eyes, sitting criss-cross legged on your bed in your favourite pijamas, pretty stuffed toy between your legs. carl had seen this before, held you through it, comforted you and swore that whoever hurt you would pay. what was he to do now when he was the cause of your sorrow?
"hey, baby." his tone was as gentle as could be, making his way to sit next to you on the bed. "missed you."
you two were so different.
carl had the stubbornness of a mule, when things got tough he found it awfully hard to apologise, not that he ever had to do it much. though, he'd much prefer for everything to disappear in a blink of an eye, forget everything ever happened and go back to the way you two were.
and when you were upset? you shut off.
"i was thinking..." still avoiding the two words that would seemingly make it all okay. "maybe next week we can go someplace? find somewhere to hang out for the weekend, like a night away." his words prodded no reaction from you. "how's that sound, angel?"
a shrug was the only thing he was met with.
your glassy eyes strayed far from his, not even attempting to look him in the eyes. he sighed, unsure of where to go. "look at me, sweet girl." long fingers entrapping your chin and turning it towards him.
there was a pang of guilt as he looked in your glassy red eyes, evidence that you'd been crying earlier that day. and he'd been the cause of it.
finally, the long awaited. "I'm sorry." and carl the stubborn mule grimes didn't just apologise to anyone. "shouldn't have talked to you liked that, c'mere." in a time like this, all you needed was comfort, that was what compelled you to move with his hands, climbing into his lap. the sound of your soft cries soon filled his ears. "i know, i know, 'm so sorry." hand rubbing circles against your back, holding you close.
you didn't mean to cry the way you did, but the weight of the day collapsing on you was enough for you to cling to the boy.
you buried your head in the crook of his neck, wisps of his own hair in front of your face, his hat steady on his head as he held you so gently, as though you were made of glass.
a wobble of your bottom lip as you pulled away from the boy, holding your hands up to your face as if to shield yourself. there was something so scary about him seeing you cry. "i didn't..." your own voice cracking. "i didn't mean to be clingy."
his heart quite literally shattered.
"no, no." his voice sort of high pitched as he pulled your hands from your face. "no, you're not, sweetheart, i promise you're not."
you sniffled at the boy. "but you said―"
carl couldn't dare to hear the rest of such a sentence. "i didn't mean it, baby, i promise." he pulled you back towards his chest, head finding his neck again only this time you didn't cry as hard, mere sniffles leaving your nose. "was bein' an asshole, baby, 'm so sorry."
it'd take a while for you to believe him.
but he'd do whatever it took.
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main masterlist/carl's masterlist
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scenesniper · 1 year ago
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☆ "fool's gold" | norton campbell ; general nsfw headcanons
pairing / "fool's gold" norton campbell x afab gn! reader
disclaimer / possessive, jealous themes, suffocation, overstimulation, mentions of being passed out, "hunting"
word count / 869 words
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⭒ fool's gold is, as we can all tell, towering tall so we know damn well he's packing down there. 8.5 inches and i'm not exaggerating, i am a high believer of 8.5 inches fool's gold.
⭒ fool gold looms over you and is mostly seen being next to you no matter where your destination may be. he follows you like a lost puppy that other survivors and hunters can't help but be galled that this unapproachable man could be so soft hearted.
⭒ fool’s gold simply fucks you like an animal in heat. he isn’t passionate more so, selfish and possessive over you. he’s quite rough, especially forgetting about foreplay at times and just goes down on you. please remind him! he isn't intentionally attempting to hurt you (most of the time). fool's gold isn't the most meticulous of lovers, but what he loves the most is listening to you.
⭒ at first, when giving foreplay, fool's gold would have his finger deep in you. however, it didn't felt right so he started to just eat you out right then and there. and when i tell you, fool's gold eats you out as though you're his last meal. he's a starved man for you. his tongue deep in you and knowing just where the right places are that'll have your toes curling.
⭒ kissing fool's gold is always a battle, a battle that you'd never win no matter. he'd always have you deprived of oxygen by the end of it and yet, each kiss is like no matter you've ever experienced.
⭒ fool's gold loves your chest. he loves to flick it with his fingers or run his cold, pointer finger down on it just to see the way your face contorts with shivers running along your body. and god, does he love to suck your nipples dry (yes i'm serious. this man pretends he's drinking your breast milk).
⭒ fool's gold loves to mark you in any way possible. a visible place where everyone could see his marked treasure. your neck, chest, hips, thighs. he completely marvels at his work after, you will never not be reminded of that love experienced that night every time you see your littered body.
⭒ he loves to bite you (yes, biting). he has a scary set of sharp teeth but rather, don't worry as it's mostly a nibble. however, fool's gold is easily and naturally jealous. he has a keen sense of smell and so, when he picks up a scent that seems to be too close to you, he'd absolutely start biting your neck until it starts to bleed with no hesitations. he loves to give you love bites, yes, but those times of frustration.. he just had to let it out at these kind of moments😪.
⭒ fool’s gold loves to receive rather than give. just stuff your entire mouth into his cock and he’d instantly fold for you. grunting, as he roughly guides you by the hair as he looks down on you taking in all of his length. your head, bobbing up and down, he’s completely entranced by your saliva streaming down your mouth.
⭒ fool’s gold isn’t verbal. if anything, the most you’d hear out of him are his occasional growling and animalistic grunts. despite that, he'd muster out some degrading name calling remarks to you that are compiled with loving praises as well. whether it be praising you for taking his dick, he'd manage to throw in some degradation as well (slut, whore, messy).
⭒ fool's gold loves to experiment with his positions. his one hand tightly binding you above your head while the other hand is completely exploring your body. or your body backed into a surface as he completely fucks you from behind. even the view of your back arching for him as he watches your head buries itself more and more into the pillows. he's completely lost for you.
⭒ fool's gold stamina is endless. once he starts, he can't stop. he fucks you endlessly, his cum deep inside your mouth, everywhere on your fucked face, your body sticky and drenched with his cum. even if you pass out from the overstimulation, fool's gold would continue going.
⭒ he loves your mouth. your lips around his cock, your mouth full of his cum, he can't help but tell you to open your mouth to spit in it. "open your mouth." his voice striking venomously. "now swallow." "good job baby.."
⭒ definitely into the "predator, prey" roleplay. he'd hunt you deep in the forest, giving you a multiple of minutes head start only to catch up to you in mere seconds and taking you right then and there in the forest. your fear draws him in more in which he'd have you backed up against a tree or rather, fuck you as he holds you around his body.
⭒ fool's gold always seems to have his hand around you which would always be a tight grip. fool's gold wouldn't think much of it since in his eyes, you're practically "his" all inside and out. once you've captured his attention, he has no plans of ever having you run from him.
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banj0possum · 2 years ago
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Eat Your Heart Out
Yandere!Zombie Horde x Male Reader
Cw: Apocalyptic world, mention of death, poly relationship
A terato request by @xweirdo101x, hope you like it! (*´∀`*)/
Edit!! Nsfw content removed!! Apologies stinkers
💀 You don't remember the last time 'normal' was the norm in your life. Bustling streets became barren and gigantic cities were nothing but ruins and hot spots for survivors or whatever monsters ruled the surface now. Ever since the start of the virus outbreak, the world fell apart into something out of an apocalypse movie, where the only rule was survived and pray the infected doesn't find you.
💀 You could remember however, how this all started. not only was it because of a virus, but it was man-made. It was supposed to be humanity's saving grace, a way to cure all ailments and boost the abilities of whoever took it, but it turned out to be a horrific world-destroying disease that ruined the mind of everything it infected. Humans, animals, plants, almost everything mutated into mindless, bloodthirsty monsters.
💀 You winced at the memories of seeing the news on tv, the sight of people running and screaming from infected, their snarls echoing in your mind as the memory of seeing your friends die in front of you one by one flashed in your mind. You groan, knowing how hopeless it was in this world, but your will to live was too strong.
💀 Living in the ruins at was your town isn't so hard, there was always food to scavenge for in the old mall which you lived in, and you were the only one left to your knowledge so there was no competition for supplies.
💀 Although there was a tiny problem...
💀 A small horde of zombies decided to take residence in the mall as well. Unlike their movie counterparts, they weren't heaps of rotting flesh but pale-looking creatures that looked like they didn't eat in days, albeit with bits of their flesh missing but nothing too gross. They still moaned and groaned but at least they didn't smell from a mile away. At first you were very weary of them, but after a certain encounter, you found out they never seemed to be interested in attacking you.
💀 They were surprisingly docile, only getting aggressive at other monsters that wandered in the mall.
💀 You didn't know the virus mutated once again, allowing certain infected to regain a bit of their consciousness.
💀 The horde met each other through wandering aimlessly before bumping into one another, they formed somewhat of a pack or group of sorts, knowing they were all different from the rest of the monsters that infested the world.
💀 You noticed the horde would be around wherever you went, the food court, the arcade, the cinema, it was like they were following you.
💀 Although they never tried to eat you at first sight, you still didn't want a fight with an entire horde, so you avoided them whenever, much to their dismay.
💀 You would then see one of two of them follow you around. You'd be spooked for a bit before realizing they would copy anything you did. You jumped and yelped and the zombie following you would do the same.
💀 The zombie would coo and purr at you, sniffing at the air like a lost pup. You hesitantly put down your weapon and walk closer to him. You get out a soft 'hello' and the zombie gurgles out a 'hi' back, making you utterly astonished, taken aback by the zombie's intelligence.
💀 Ever since then you would study the horde and their behaviors. They all had different personalities which intrigued you further. You decided to give them names as you couldn't just call them 'zombies' all the time.
💀 One with the flesh from his right arm missing was named 'Screw' because of his tendency to collect shiny bits and bobs from the ground of broken objects. He was shy but loved to show you the things he's collected.
💀 Another had parts of his ribs showing, but surprisingly nothing inside was named 'Ribs' as he fiddled with his most of the time. He was curious and a bit hyper, always wandering the most and the fastest among them.
💀 One, which was probably the smartest, had only one eye, which he could move from one socket to the other by tilting his head was 'Soda' because he had the quirk of copying you eating or drinking. One time he copied you drinking a bottle of soda pop and he gurgled in happiness over the fizzy taste. He knew what certain things were if you told him and he recognized objects in pictures like dogs or planes, things you haven't seen since the first wave.
💀 The last and most likely the leader was named 'Bo' as he had a dog tag on him, probably from serving the military when he was human. Despite his stomach being missing he was weirdly strong, always protecting the rest of the horde when there were monsters that were more aggressive than most.
💀 You and the horde quickly grew a bond, sometimes they even found food for you or protected you from danger or even other zombies. You never knew what drove them to be so protective, but you were happy you didn't have to live alone anymore.
💀 You noticed the horde being more affectionate, being found wandering closer and closer to where you usually stayed. You figured it was because they were so close to you until one managed to make its way into the boarded-up store you lived in.
💀 It was Screw looking through your clothes, sniffing and rummaging your shirts and underwear, you remember they relied on smell a lot and assumed he wanted to look for you and followed your scent into your home.
💀 Unbeknownst to you, they were absolutely in love with you. They came to the mall for refuge and found something much better, a lovely little mate to call theirs, one soft and squishy and warm and very very tough, something that is important when surviving in the wastelands. The times where you would touch them whether it was a light brush on their hands or pats on their shoulders of heads were the best. Your warm body making contact with their cold, dead ones.
💀 The horde had enough of you hiding and running away from them all the time, playing a teasing game of cat and mouse with them, they wanted to take care of you don't you see? They won't hurt you! You're their little mate!
💀 Bo sent Screw to track you as he was always the one to follow you around back when they first came to the mall. He followed your scent to a small hole that was hidden behind a dumpster. He crawled inside and was hit with the most powerful smell of your sweet scent he could ever encounter. He coos, knowing he found your little nest.
💀 The others were standing by the dumpster, waiting for a signal from Screw that the area inside was safe for them to enter. Meanwhile you were trying your best to shoo Screw out, scared that he might hurt himself with all the delicate objects and weapons you kept in your home.
💀 Ribs heard your voice and gurgled happily, quickly crawling inside, Bo and Soda going in after him.
💀 You finally got a purring Screw in your hands as you spot the others entering your home through one of the entrances you made. You feel your eye twitch as you try to process what was going on.
💀 Screw was happily cooing in your arms as Soda limps over to you smiling and chittering, his hands on your arms as Bo curtly moves closer to you like a guilty puppy.
💀 You then notice you didn't see Ribs and you turn around as you're tackle-hugged to the ground by the zombie along with Screw, the two of them cuddling and rubbing themselves on you as you try to wriggle out of their hug.
💀 Soda leans down beside you three as Bo does the same, the four undead men now cooing and purring all over you.
💀 Now you don't really have to leave your little home as they would always keep you gently nestled in the bundle of blankets and soft things they found around the mall. They would take turns with whoever would stay by your side for the day as the rest wandered around in search of food or trinkets to bring back to you and maybe a survivor or two for a little snack.
💀 All in all, they can't get enough of you, and you can't help being stuck with a zombie cuddling you 24/7
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i didnt mean to write them so asfjnakfeqkgkaeg they are such little meow meows i cant-
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throwaway-yandere · 1 year ago
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FLAWLESS (Yandere!Various Genshin/Reader)
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A/n: This is a complete interactive fic w/ CGs! There’s an HP system and 4 possible endings (yandere!Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Kaveh, and Kazuha). This is my final fanfic and I really put my best effort into drawing and writing this. Have fun!!! Your choices matter so read the evidences properly and try not to get a bad ending hahaha. (Pls answer this poll after and feel free to send me memes about who you got hAHHAHA)
Unreliable Synopsis: (Danganronpa!Genshin AU) If this is your last dance as an idol, then you do not want it. No. You’ll make the real criminal sing instead.
CW: yandere themes, blood, murders (well duh ansy–), and brief mentions of suicide.
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Kazuha frowned. "For (L/n) (Y/n), this whole ordeal must seem like a flawless crime."
"They don't know the murder weapon, the suspects— no nothing." Kaveh sighed.
Alhaitham interjected. "Indeed, but the real questions will begin in a moment."
Words punctured the air in nameless accusations. Each time people enter this room, only distrust looms acting both as a safety blanket and suffocating plastic. You stared at the people left. One, two, three, four, five... You clenched your fist, and all those fingers pointed back at you. 
The sixth. 
There are only six survivors left.
"Say, (L/n) (Y/n)." Your Akademiyan companions stared at you as Kunikuzushi’s smirk could practically be heard in his voice. "Where were you at the time of the murder?"
You gulped.
The Teyvat Akademiya. Home only to the most renowned student of their craft. The faculty carefully picks out select groups of students to be their new freshmen- and it can only be counted by hand how many had declined such a generous offer. It was a government state university, but it was also a golden ticket to knowing people from high places.  
Each student was known for contributing something in their fields of interest. In fact, both your adoptive siblings were alumni of this prestigious school. Your brother Aether was a famous "adventurer" (as he loved to call himself instead of an artifact-obsessed archeologist) whereas your sister Lumine was a remarkable swordswoman with a straight-edged track record. Even your older friends, Dainsleif, and a certain glasses-wearing individual you had forgotten the name of were graduates and now boast incredible resumes befitting of an Akademiyan. Each alumnus you've met wasn't someone any person with a head on their shoulders would dare disrespect. 
But that was not the reason for your schoolmates’ evident intimidation.
“Allow them a moment to process,” Alhaitham scoffed. “The Body Discovery Announcement was approximately 2 hours ago. It’s challenging for individuals from the entertainment industry such as them to comprehend complicated matters in a few seconds.”
“I would’ve fainted at your rare attempt at empathy if it wasn't obviously pointed,” Kaveh scoffed before turning to you with a soft stare. “(Y/n), don’t listen to these two, I’m sure we can find out if you’re innocent or not later.”
You gave a short nod of assent.
Tragically, murders had become the norm for college students like yourself. No one has flinched at Kaveh’s grim mention of a suspect lurking by and none had the insanity to deny what had occurred.
It began when you first woke up in one of the Akademiya's classrooms. You stirred awake on a desk near Shikanoin Heizou, the "Detective Prince". He was a famous figure, so you instantly believed him when he said you were both hauled into this location against your will. You were enthused by his infectious desire to uncover whatever was behind the “kidnapping” you found yourselves in. He told you not to worry, that despite the barred windows and inaccessible exits, you'd both "probably" find a way out.  As you both wandered around the area, you found fourteen other students (some familiar faces, some not as much). For a brief moment of hope, everyone thought escape was possible. 
That was until a certain cold-eyed puppet entered the scene.
A heartless puppet you’re sure was waiting for everyone just under that elevator.
“Is… Is this everyone?” You asked like a mouse, frightened as your eyes darted for any hints of twinned cyan hair. Nothing about your recent behavior had gone unnoticed.
Senior Faruzan is missing…
Yoimiya frowned, grabbing your hand for comfort. “(Y/n)…”
Kunikuzushi scoffed. “Enough of this dumb ohhh boohoo exhibit. Let’s go.”
The most mysterious of the bunch left for the stairs immediately, punching the button on the elevator to its ground floor. Yoimiya huffed, muttering complaints about Kuni’s behavior while the three other men followed her silently. No one took the stairs two at a time and walked at a snail’s pace. A clear indication that no one wanted this to occur. 
And just like in the previous cases, Kazuha’s eyes were on you the entire time but spoke nothing of this behavior.
The elevator door opened. You looked at the camera above it. If the Shogun's words are to be trusted, then the outside world is watching your every move like reality TV.
If that's the case, might as well give them a show.
Kunikuzushi stepped aside, royally ushering everyone— and specifically YOU— in.
“Idols first.”
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Everyone entered the trial room. If the mood from earlier was tense, it is worse now that you’re inside. Stepping into the cold room makes the situation all the more real.
There is an execution waiting to happen, but without a hint if it’ll be “us” or “them”. Every bright person inside the room here had previously partaken in 4 of these court sessions by force. Since no one can exit the premises nor contact the outside world, the only key out was to kill and avoid getting caught. 5 people had attempted to commit murder, and considering how you’re still breathing, none of the “blackened” had succeeded in getting their way.
How… How did it come to this? 
You enrolled in the Akademiya in hopes that you'd also find the subtle clues as to why Aether went missing, this wasn't in your plan.
Getting roped into this killing “game” was on no one’s to-do list. You received an invitation to enroll in the Akademiya because of your stark idol career, although your siblings being famous alumni may have greatly increased your chances of receiving that privilege. You would’ve thrown that paper into the fire if you knew you’d get dizzy upon arriving in the Akademiya and will wake up in such a heartbreaking dilemma. Hearing from a grapevine, you discovered that Kaveh was invited for his architectural drafts, Kazuha for his poems and a bit of swordsmanship in his repertoire, Yoimiya for her firework shows, and Kunikuzushi?… You don’t know. But you are wholly aware as to why Alhaitham is here as your senior— you were there when he opened his letter after all.
The “mascot” is yet to make her entrance. So, as “obedient” students, you’ve uncomfortably shuffled to the places you were meant to stand. Bile rose inside your throat as you looked at the last five students excluding yourself circling the room— with Faruzan’s crossed-out portrait to your right while Kamisato Ayaka’s on your left. It would appear that most of the dead students were on your side and the closest breathing person next to you was Kunikuzushi, who was two photographs away.
Alhaitham, Amber, Tighnari, Ajax, Albedo, Kamisato Ayaka, You, Faruzan, Xiao, "Kunikuzushi", Kaveh, Cyno, Yoimiya, Layla, Yunjin, Kaedehara Kazuha, and Shikanoin Heizou.
The deceased faces had been crossed out in bright violet paint, a nauseatingly unsubtle reminder that only six remained. Yet, the one that was meant to sit towering above was missing.
“… Where’s The Shogun?” Kazuha asked.
“Ah, so you do have a voice. And here I was about to call you a cricket. I thought our poet lost his words, considering how the previous trial ended,” Kunikuzushi mocked, rolling his eyes. “Just wait and see.”
You sighed, hoping it was quiet enough for Kuni not to have heard it. 
The last trial broke everyone’s spirits and sense of camaraderie the most. Before trials, the puppet gives everyone an incentive to kill. In the Ayaka-Heizou murder case, each student was given a videotape that raised more questions than answers. Yours was a clip of Lumine, your fellow theater actors, and idol mates congratulating you for your enrollment before it cuts off to a scene of your home burned to cinders. As for Ayaka, hers was a short-lived message of her older brother asking her to come visit the clan for Thoma’s upcoming birthday— before it cuts to a gruesome scene of her brother fatally wounded on their living room floor. 
“Find out what happens once you graduate!”... and then the tape ends.
Whoever was the mastermind behind this killing, you had to admit, they were an expert in psychological torture. And unfortunately for everyone, Ayaka was a smart individual— killing the most trustworthy student, Heizou, to cover her tracks better. She put up quite the fight in manipulating everyone to think that you and Kaveh were possible culprits.
You even got into an argument with the calmest person around. Kazuha was “convinced” that Ayaka was right, which led to you two entering an incredibly heated argument that left him depressed with his rejected apology. You were on "good terms" with him before, that being he would always offer to cook food and accompany you often. 
… Perhaps that was a good thing. Discreetly, you thought he strangely knew you to a degree that makes you far from comfortable. It still bugs you how he knew you all too well and yet you know nothing about him other than his aspirations: traditional Inazuman poetry writing with a bit of karuta on the side.
Maybe he used to be a big fan of yours? Even so, the foundation of your music, choreography, and persona was weaved through a tapestry of feel-good lies. And yet, he was wise enough to speak your true thoughts before you even hesitated to voice them in your cheery idol tone. 
But that’s not the issue right now. 
The issue on your plate was that you had no evidence to prove your innocence except for the list of school rules on your E-Handbook because you were convinced someone will kill you during the investigation.
You laughed to yourself bitterly. Might as well review those rules now.
You opened the E-Handbook.
As per “school rules”, there are regulations to be had in a murder game, but none stick to you as these three. Rule #10 and #7: A class trial will commence after three or more students have discovered a corpse, and a Body Discovery Announcement will play as soon as it occurs. However, a trial will be held if and only if every survivor is present; failure to do so will result in class “expulsion.” 
And the last rule that never left your mind was Rule #8: If the guilty party is exposed during the class trial, they alone will be executed.
By the end of Trial #4, she did not receive a proper execution. Ayaka was compelled to restore her honor and raised her sword to…
… You couldn’t hate her for it. Even though you were close friends with Heizou, you couldn’t hate any of your fellow students. They all had family, hopes, and visions for the future. Each one here was "a fledgling barely out of the nest." You couldn’t deny that you would’ve done the same.
"Since the Shogun isn't here yet, let's get a headstart," Kaveh gripped the court fence, eyeing everyone with a nervous stare and stiff posture. "What's your alibis?"
Nobody raised their voice initially. You cast a pitying glance toward Kaveh. When it comes to your closest friendships, he comes in second only to Heizou. As someone who had seen the horrors of the media which is essentially a mirror of the world's social issues, Kaveh's one of the few decent individuals left on the planet, in your opinion. In moments of quiet, you, Kaveh, and Faruzan used to chat together, with Heizou periodically interrupting to share his findings regarding everyone's entrapment.
Considering how Kaveh is your last true friend left, you volunteered yourself.
"I never left my room," you spoke audibly depressed, no longer caring that you appeared un-idol-like. "And I refused entry as well. I heard a couple of angry knocks at 9:37 p.m., but I didn't open my door for anyone."
You looked at Kazuha, hurt and accusingly.
You'd never forget how Kazuha called you a murderer. That intense argument made up 30% of Heizou's class trial. He lost his composure and called you a "dishonorable monster". The whole back-and-forth was very much unlike him. After the trial, neither of you talked– and you never left your room unless it was to get something to eat without anyone in sight.
If he was the one who killed Faruzan because he can’t get to you, then you’ll…
"9:37 eh? You got a watch now?" Kunikuzushi pointed at your wrist.
You snapped out of your aggression and nodded, which made him break out in a fit of laughter. 
"HAHAHA!!!" Kunikuzushi grinned, wide. "Learned your lesson, huh?!"
You scoffed, but your ego was humbled and your heart sank at his harsh words. 
Everyone in the room nearly lost their lives because of your time-blindness. It's precisely what made Kazuha suspicious of your motives. You were always unsure of the time, hence, you didn't have the most watertight alibi compared to Ayaka. Before you entered your room to lock yourself, Alhaitham blocked the door with his shoe and handed you his spare wristwatch. He was the last person you saw before your self-isolation.
"Good," Alhaitham said. "And you, Kunikuzushi?"
"Are we going to ignore that angry knocking thing?" Kaveh rightfully asked.
"Let's complete the first task first," Alhaitham answered. "Let's follow the circle; it's (Y/n), then Kunikuzushi, Kaveh, Yoimiya, Kazuha, then I."
"Conveniently putting yourself last," Kunikuzushi snarled. "But whatever. I was napping in my dorm. Woke up when I heard footsteps outside and decided to investigate. The discovery alarm rang off when I entered the nurse's office the second time."
Kaveh fell silent, his face pale.
"I… never went to m dorm that night"
"Oh?" You and Yoimiya curiously said in unison.
"I-I was with Alhaitham, patrolling!!!" Kaveh defended; his arms in the air. "I swear on my life, I was with him! We're probably the footsteps Kuni heard."
He spoke as if it was a good thing with his mouth, but he was whispering that it wasn’t with his eyes.
"Can't be certain," Kunikuzushi threw in a quick grumble and snapped his fingers. “But I think that's probably the case.”
"That makes sense. I mean, if Kuni was telling the truth then that just means there's more chance it's just those two hopping around. Oh, and I was actually on the second floor at the time. I was in the recreational room cause I wanted to get tokens for the cute little Shogun Stall.'' If Kuni’s side comment lasted a month, then Yoimiya's would be a year– but her good cheer is just what everyone needed to alleviate the tension.
"I wasn't in my dorm room either," Kazuha said. "I was in the cafeteria. I couldn't sleep so I decided to fry fish."
"True, I think. When I checked the cafeteria a knife was missing from the shelf."
"We’ll keep your fact-checking in mind, Miss Naganohara." 
No soul was sure if Alhaitham was being genuine about it except for you. And the answer was yes, he was being warily appreciative. Admittedly, you don’t know any of these people before this killing game started, except for one person…
Alhaitham looked away, conscious of how you looked at him.
In all fairness, Alhaitham was closer to Lumine than you and Aether, and he wasn’t your favorite neighbor either. As a kid, he was the type who would leave in the middle of hide-and-seek simply because the ordeal wasn’t “stimulating” to his developing intellect. He had a habit of causing uncomfortable situations just to “observe” your reactions with an emotionless stare. Alhaitham had once given you a sumeru rose with a startling grasshopper to see how you would behave, and the worst part is that everyone knows he did these without malice. His grandmother had to force a sorry out of him for your tears to dry. “He probably has a crush on you, you know how boys are,” was the excuse the old lady tried, but your twin siblings were quick to shut that thought down. You and he were simply oil and water, nothing more, nothing less.
But there were times you two got along. When you aired out loud sentiments regarding how stuffy his room must be, you snatched the book he was reading and dashed up the nearest tree. Despite his grumbling reservations, he was thankful that you taught him how to climb that afternoon. That was the first you saw him smile wider than usual and offered to narrate the book you stole: The Little Prince. 
However, that version of Alhaitham you’ve come to love remains awol amidst this killing game.
"As for my whereabouts: Kaveh is correct. He and I were patrolling just the first floor and exchanging conversation. Neither of us could sleep. We started at 9:15 and ended abruptly at 11:05, when we, along with Kunikuzushi, found–"
"The body." Kunikuzushi finished.
"Yes," Alhaitham said.
Kunikuzushi smirked. From your perspective, the worst part about this was not Kunikuzushi’s inappropriate smugness, but the look in his eyes that mirrored what Heizou used to have— what your good friend used to be. The light in his eyes, his more forward demeanor, the way he crossed his arms and snapped his fingers– it was as if he was copying him. 
Mocking him.
You hate Kunikuzushi. You detest just how much you don’t know why he’s in the Akademiya or anything else about him other than his first name. You loathe how he had made it his job to be the antagonist of every damn class trial. You hate how he looks at you as though you’re beneath him. You despise how much he is willing to withhold vital information till the very end.
Kunikuzushi is like a commedia dell’arte stock character. A Scaramouche. An unreliable servant. You can’t trust a man who said he was moved by your acting in all your filmography only to act like he wants nothing more than to crush your spirits once lives were at stake.
After listening to everyone’s alibis, your intuition screamed from something deep within a place you had begun to trust after experiencing these trials:
Out of six survivors, FOUR of them are hiding something.
“Is everyone present?”
Before you could speak up, a low and refined woman’s voice stole everyone’s attention. All turned to gaze at the long synthetic-haired lady with a katana by her side. She returned the stares with an unfathomable coldness as she strutted to her throne, the silk of her grand kimono touching the floor. 
There she is. The lone audience and judge. The puppet: the Almighty Raiden Shogun. Undoubtedly made of metal and not flesh. Xiao had learned that firsthand when he sacrificed his life in an honorable duel against the captor— but seeking freedom by force was of no use when she herself is capable of the murders she wished to witness.
“Very well. We shall begin.”
“W-Wait, hold up, ma'am!”
The last vaguely extroverted cheerleader raised her hand; her bravery to interrupt the Shogun was acknowledged.
“... Can I share my E-Handbook data with (Y/n)?” She asked, high-pitched.
The medical and criminological technology of this era eluded everyone. Trapped inside the Akademiya with no phones or any signal to the outside world, each student only has their E-Handbook to rely on. It contains information the owner investigated regarding murders and records testimonies made by their peers. A handbook is only “handy” for both people who were hoping to survive and those who were hoping to twist the facts. 
And that offer is exactly what you need.
“You see– they didn’t leave their room during the investigation period– probably worried that the killer might be after them next and they kinda turned into a hikikomori for the past few days. I’m kinda worried they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves on this trial so… So, uh… Pretty please?” The blonde girl smiled nervously.
The Raiden Shogun stared, calculating.
“I shall allow it.”
“Thank you so much!” Yoimiya tapped her E-Handbook as fast as she could, more eager than you were in watching the loading screen fill up.
(SYSTEM: RECEIVING NAGANOHARA YOIMIYA’S E-HANDBOOK DATA…)
(SYSTEM: TRANSFER COMPLETE.)
You smiled at Yoimiya but it came out crooked and jaded. She didn’t complain that you weren’t at your top form today, but she did send you a loud “Do your best!” in her native tongue.
The Shogun walked to the throne and took her seat.
“Now then, let the class trial begin.”
Out like a bolt of lightning, the doors behind you were completely shut with metal bars in her flick of a wrist. In her twisted form of justice, she hammered the circular surface with her gavel.
“Court is now in session.”
(SYSTEM: TAP HERE TO CONTINUE)
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herecomethatboi · 7 months ago
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Dbd killers x gn! Reader pt.2
Part two of MC slamming killers against the wall. Now it's MC who gets slammed lol
(I remembered like... A few days ago that I have a Tumblr account and I have 70+ followers??? Oh my god??? I love you guys, and i'm so sorry for delaying this. School, life and my love life just ✨love✨ to make me suffer🥲)
((LET'S GOOO))
The Ghostface:
The cat and mouse play begun, once you heard him giggle like a kid opening Christmas presents. The chase went on for what seemed like hours.
But of course, by the rules of the Entity's Realm, he caught up.
The breath was knocked out of you as you were thrown on your front and you tried to buck him off, although now he remembered he actually has his supernatural strengh to pin you down.
He was huffing, you were out of breath and he turned you -rather harshly- on your back making you grunt. He sat on your stomach, then he raised his knife.
You thought he will stab you in the skull, so you winced and closed you eyes while shielding your face with your arms.
With a swift motion he stabbed it into the ground next to you. You lowered your arms and opened your eyes to see his...face.
The mask was thrown somewhere else.
He had a grin on his face. An arogant, stupid grin on his face.
"Caught you now..." His voice was raspy, like he hasnt used it in a while. "Thought you could run away from me?"
"No, I-"
"I think I should return the favour, no?" He cut you off with a grin. At your lack of response his grin grew. "Not so bold now, hmm?"
You glared up at him and tried to push him off, which made him grab your wrists in his hands and pin them above your head.
"Awh, last time you were rougher, i'm almost disappointed." He giggled again.
That was the last straw, and whatever adrenaline you had in your system came in the form of pushing against him and switching positions.
"I can be rough, just like last time." You grinned down at his stupid face with that stupid grin.
"Oh, please, do go on." He... Pleaded? It sounded like teasing, but the honest begging undertone was so obvious.
So, you kissed him. Pinned his arms down by his wrists, and did the knee thing, which made him shiver.
He pulled back, not expecting you to ACTUALLY do something with him.
"Oh God..." He breathed out. His cheeks were pink, highlighting some of his freckles.
"My name should be what you call." You said as you applied pressure between his legs, which made him arch up just a tiny bit.
"Oh...God..." He moved against your knee, trying to find some release.
"Good boy."
The Entity watched with pop-corn as the scene unfolded.
The Legion, Frank:
You were repairing a gen when he randomly appeared next to you. You jumped back, let out a tiny scream (and had a mini heartattack) making the generator explode, which he laughed at.
"Am I that scary? Come on now." He laughed, you glared at him.
"Oh, should I start listing why a SURVIVOR should be afraid of a KILLER?!?" You asked rather harshly. His laughing turned into snickering.
"Yeah, well, this killer has to remind you where your place is after the last time we met." You were pinned against the gen when he finished that sentence. "After all, i'm a big, scary, merciless killer. Am I not?"
You stared at him with widenes eyes for a moment, then your expression turned blank and you clicked your tongue.
"Says the guy who whimpers like a girl." That did the trick, since he started stuttering non-sense that wasn't helping his case.
"WELL FUCK YOU- you... uh- you- uhm- FUCK- uhmmmm-" You chuckled and waited for him to form a sentence.
He stabbed you angrily and ran away, like the baby he is.
Then, when he got back, he started ranting about you to the Legion, who collectively told him to fuck your brains out or you will.
Frank didn't like that, but kept it in mind.
Michael Myers:
You were alas the last one yet again. You found the hatch, but decided to just sit down next to it and wait.
Michael was nearby, you could feel it.
Ever since... THAT, he's been focusing his attention on you, even in the camp where supposedly, no killer can come too close or enter, you felt that piercing gaze on the back of your head.
It wasn't pleasant, to say the least.
So, you decided to finally have a one-sided conversation with the Shape.
If, he lets you, of course.
It took some time, but he came forward, staring at you then the hatch, then back at you, pointing his knife slightly to your only escape.
"I know, I know, I just... Wanted to talk. If it's okay?" You stood up slowly, he lowered his knife to his usual resting position. "I'm sorry. I know it was shitty of me to do that, and I wanted to know if we could just... Go back to the usual trials?" You asked, unsure of his response.
You certainly didn't expect him to slam you against the wall behind you with a hand around your throat. He wasn't choking you, just holding it, as if you were made out of porcelain.
(Which, to be honest, compared to his strengh, your neck could be considered delecate)
You froze. His breathing was deep, but calculated and slow. He then dropped his knife (which was a surprise) and lifted his mask above his lips.
Then with the same fashion you did, he kissed you forcefully.
You stopped breathing for a moment and tensed up.
The kiss ended just as quick as the last one. Then he pulled his mask back down, let go of your neck and left, leaving his knife behind.
You returned to the camp with his knife hidden away, and shocked.
+Pyramid Head: (Ya'll, he has long tongue🤭)
He's been having bad trials lately. Something was wrong, but he didn't know what it was.
Everything just felt... Off.
Then the trial with you happened.
You were new, a complete stranger, and yet, nothing indicated that you were a bad person who deserved to be punished.
Pyramid had this dawning feeling about some survivors, and you were just the same.
Wrong place, wrong time.
He didn't find it in his soul to make people like you suffer. But sometimes. People like you just piss him off.
He finished off Ada, leaving you injured somewhere on the map. He found the hatch before you, but he ignored it and went after the smell of blood.
Then he found you and with a swift motion you were against the wall.
You tried to fight, which pissed him off some more, making him let out some grunts, but nothing made you stop.
So, he had an idea.
On the front of his head, there's a little opening for his tongue to escape.
So, he did just that and stuck it into your mouth.
It was gross, sure, it didn't feel like a normal tongue, but it was an interesting experience (for him too).
When you stopped, he took out his tongue, tossed you on his shoulder and walked back to the hatch, then he dropped you and left.
He started at his reflection for hours, not knowing WHY he just... Did what he did. But kept that in mind to do it again.
Pyramid could smell the sweet sweet arousal from you, which gave him images he never did and a new hard problem to deal with.
Screw you. (Affectionatelly)
+Evan MacMillan:
Evan had a feeling someone was down in the basement, and he was right. You were there, with your newly found flashlight, frozen in place as he took up the place in the only way for you to escape.
He knew it was over for you, so he took a step toward you, but was met with something hitting his square in the forehead, harshly.
Trapper was stunned the moment you threw a flashlight at him, hitting him on his mask and cracking the top layer off of it.
He almost dropped his weapon at the impact.
He just stood there at the stairs of the basement while you looked between the flashlight on the floor and him, mortified.
Evan huffed and marched to you, which made you let out a panicked noot noot and tried to avoid his reach, which was useless.
He grabbed you, but he didn't expect to be met with the sheer force of adrenaline from you and be slammed against the hooks pillar (is it a pillar???).
You grabbed his mask, threw it away, grabbed his face and kissed him.
He just froze up, not knowing what in the nine Hells he's suppose to do.
Then, you were running away.
The kiss was... Something else for him. Which made him hide in the basement, and just rethink his life decissions.
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hotshotsxyz · 5 days ago
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Hiii Abbie 💕💕💕
Buddie + “ i didn’t know where else to go. “
-❤️🪐
(buddie) (1.5k) eddie's pov before and after the events of this fic written for the same prompt! (technically i only used the line in the first one but oh well lol)
cw: vague description of a very bad car accident
Eddie doesn’t make a habit of watching the news. It’s depressing as hell, he runs the risk of seeing Taylor fucking Kelly on his TV, and if something he actually needs to know about is going on, he’ll hear it from Buck some time in the next few days anyway. All that to say, Eddie isn’t watching the news; he’s just flipping through the channels.
“Pick me, choose me!” Meredith Grey is saying in a rerun of Grey’s Anatomy.
click
“—low pressure system moving in from the north,” a meteorologist says on The Weather Channel.
click
“Alright boys, saddle up!” says the captain on that crappy network firefighter show.
click
“—multi-car pile-up on the 405. It’s unclear if—”
click
“—raw dough. It’s such a shame—”
click
“—urging drivers to avoid—”
click
“—looking for a loft in the city, while Jennifer would prefer—”
click
“—unclear if there are any survivors of the initial crash.”
Eddie puts the remote down. He doesn’t make a habit of watching the news, but every once in a while, something catches his attention.
The image on the screen is an aerial shot of a massive, burning multicar pile-up. The 136 is on scene, but they can’t have been there long if the size and ferocity of the fire is anything to go by.
“—compounded by the explosion of a tanker carrying gasoline—”
Eddie winces. They’re going to be there all night if they don’t get more companies on scene. He reaches for the remote at the same time as the shot switches from the aerial to a reporter on the ground. She’s not what stops him from changing the channel. The crushed and smoldering Jeep behind her is.
And it’s—there’ve got to be a thousand silver Jeeps in Los Angeles. And Buck wouldn’t—why would he even be on the 405? So obviously it’s not Buck’s Jeep, even if it is the same color and probably year. It’s just a shitty little coincidence.
An unpleasant pressure begins to build in Eddie’s chest.
He’ll just—it’s not late. He doesn’t even have to tell Buck why he’s calling. Eddie scoops his phone off the table, navigates to his favorites, and taps Buck’s name. The call goes straight to voicemail. Eddie frowns and taps his name again. He gets the same result.
“—and rescue is under way, but I’m being told that until the fire is contained—”
Buck’s phone is dead, probably. Or—or he took Jee to that movie he was talking about so he had to turn it off. That’s—he’s sure that’s it. Eddie rubs at his sternum and stands. He’s just… feeling a little paranoid.
He calls Maddie. She answers on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Maddie,” Eddie says, brushing a hand across the back of his neck. “It’s Eddie.”
“Uh, hey,” Maddie says. “Is everything okay?”
Eddie winces. “Yeah, I think so. I was just wondering if you’ve talked to Buck tonight.” He’s being ridiculous. Buck’s fine.
“No,” Maddie says, obvious confusion in her tone. “Why, did something happen?”
“No, no,” Eddie says. “I just haven’t been able to get ahold of him.”
Maddie hums thoughtfully. “He might’ve had a dental appointment earlier,” she says.
“Okay, thanks,” Eddie says. “I’ll probably just swing by the loft then.” There’s a pit in his stomach. Buck’s fine. At worst he has a cavity or two. He’s fine.
“Oh!” Maddie exclaims. “Hold on, let me check his location; I’ll save you the trip if he’s not there.”
Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. Duh. He has Buck’s location too. He didn’t even need to bother Maddie with—
“Nope, sorry,” she says.
Eddie takes a breath. He’s fine. Buck’s fine. “Maddie,” he says slowly, “where is he?”
“Um, as of twenty-eight minutes ago, looks like he was driving through Culver City, on the 405, I think,” she replies. “Eddie, what’s going on?”
“Oh god,” he breathes. He can feel the blood draining from his face.
“Eddie?” Maddie asks. She’s starting to sound worried.
On the TV, the camera zooms in and pans across the wreckage. It reaches the Jeep. Hanging from the rearview mirror is a bigfoot air freshener that looks exactly like the one Chimney gave him as a joke a few months ago. It’s—
It’s Buck’s Jeep. He’s fine. He has to be fine.
“—understand that search and rescue efforts are underway, but as of right now, no additional survivors have been located.”
He could be dead.
Eddie’s knees give out beneath him. He lands heavily on the couch.
“Don’t turn on the news,” he says.
“What? Why?” Maddie asks.
“There was an accident on the 405,” Eddie replies mechanically. “I think it might be bad.”
On the other end of the line, Maddie sucks in a sharp breath. “Eddie—”
“It’s his Jeep,” Eddie says.
He’s okay.
He has to be okay.
He’s not okay.
He could be dead.
“I have to call Bobby,” Eddie realizes aloud. “He can—he can get in touch with IC.”
“Okay,” Maddie says shakily. “Okay. I’m going to call Sue. Maybe she—” Maddie cuts herself off with something like a gasp.
“I’ll call you when—” if “—I get ahold of him,” Eddie promises.
“Same,” Maddie replies.
They end the call without a goodbye.
Eddie tries Buck again, just in case. He doesn’t answer.
He can’t—
Buck has to be okay.
He has to.
Eddie takes a steeling breath and calls Bobby.
Eddie’s crawling out of his skin. The captain of the 136 has him on hold, and that’s already more than he’s obligated to do but—
But it’s Buck and Eddie’s fucking terrified.
The longer he waits, the farther afield his imagination goes.
He’s got a broken leg and a concussion; they’re taking him to Cedars-Sinai.
He wasn’t conscious when we found him. They’re airlifting him to UCLA.
I’m sorry, Diaz. He was DOA.
Eddie paces back and forth and tugs at his hair. He needs to do something, anything! He needs—
Flashing blue and red lights filter in through the window.
He’s dead.
He’s dead, and this time Eddie wasn’t there to coax him back.
He’s dead and they sent an officer to tell him in person and Eddie’s never going to catch his breath because Buck’s the one that taught him how to breathe after—
There’s a knock at the door.
He can’t do this. Eddie can’t do this. He can’t—
How is he supposed to go to work without Buck? How’s he supposed to tell Christopher? How is he ever going to get up in the morning again? How is his heart supposed to keep beating in a world devoid of Evan Buckley?
He opens the door.
His phone clatters to the floor.
“Buck,” he sobs.
Eddie watches the slow rise and fall of Buck’s bruised chest as he sleeps.
He’s alive.
He’s okay.
He’s got tangible proof right in front of him, but—
Eddie reaches out and brushes an errant curl from his forehead.
Buck is alive and breathing and sleeping in Eddie’s bed and he’s okay. But Eddie—
He rests his palm on Buck’s sternum and counts each inhale.
Buck’s here. He’s fine. Maddie knows and Bobby knows and Eddie’s got the living proof right in front of him, but—
Eddie shuffles a little closer until the heat of Buck’s skin is overwhelming against his own. He hooks his chin onto Buck’s shoulder and tries to memorize the strange shadows and highlights that are painted on his skin by the light of the moon.
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
He could’ve—
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and shudders.
Buck’s alive and he’s right here, but Eddie can’t quite escape the moment when he was certain neither of those things would ever be true again. His breathing goes a little ragged, and his hands curl into fists.
“Eds?” Buck mumbles, eyes still closed.
Eddie lets out a shaky breath. “M’sorry, go back to sleep,” he whispers. The words are sticky and thick in his throat.
A small furrow etches itself between Buck’s brows. Eddie smooths it with his thumb. He drags his gaze back down Buck’s face and finds his eyes open and fixed on him.
“Eddie,” he whispers in the dark.
He takes a deep breath. “I’m fine,” he lies.
Buck frowns. He watches Eddie for a long moment, then something in his expression shifts. “Switch sides with me,” he says.
Eddie blinks. “What?”
Buck huffs a soft breath. “Just—trust me?”
And oh, Eddie does. He carefully climbs over Buck, who shuffles to his right to give Eddie more room.
“Okay?” he asks quietly.
“Almost,” Buck replies.
He pulls Eddie flush against him and guides his head down onto his chest. Beneath him, Buck’s heart beats strong and steady.
“Oh,” Eddie exhales.
Buck runs his hand through Eddie’s hair and down his back.
Eddie closes his eyes and finally, he sleeps.
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