#it's a fire show we need more arson

[daniwib]

A case of mistaken identity has Buck in the line of fire when Amir comes seeking revenge on Bobby for the loss of his family.

Will Tommy and the 118 have to watch the man they all love die a horrible death in front of them - or will they be able to avert a tragedy echoing the one Bobby was unable to years before?

[Fic is complete, final chapter should be posted before the next episode. Read on Ao3 here]

[pathologicalreid]

the archer | S.R.

in which a trip to your hometown leads to an exposed past and a wrongful arrest, you can't help but wonder who could stay

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: angst

content warnings: normal cm violence/death. mentions of sexual assault and physical assault. mentions of miscarriage and dv. arson/fires. please take care of yourself while reading <3.

word count: 5.96k

a/n: if you or someone you know is a victim of domestic violence, the US hotline is 800-799-7233. be well and be safe.

can you see right through me?

Emily had called you into her office fifteen minutes before the briefing began to let you know that the case was in your hometown. “There are some things that may come to light in a small town, and I wanted to let you know that you can stay behind if you need to,” she told you, having shut the blinds to her office to give you the most privacy she could.

Giving it a moment, you thought about it before you met her eyes, “if someone tries to say something, I’d rather be there to clear things up than let them say anything.” You wiped your clammy palms on your plants before standing up, “and besides, who better to work on victimology than someone who knows the town.”

You stepped out of the office, holding the door open for Emily before the two of you made your way to the roundtable room.

The two victims had been killed a week apart, they were both women who you had gone to school with. The first was in your graduating class, Victoria Reynolds, kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and asphyxiated. The second was a year ahead of you, Melanie Baylor, kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and asphyxiated. The team had been called in by the lead detective on the case, Charlie Platten, and he had likely made the call without telling the police chief.

It had already been three days since the second body was recovered, and Emily didn’t want to waste any more time. You left the roundtable room to grab your go-bag, smiling when you felt a familiar presence next to you. “Are you alright?” Spencer asked, leaning against your desk while you reached underneath it for your bag.

Stepping in front of him, you looked up at him, “I’m okay, Spence.” You plopped your go bag on top of your desk, “it’ll be okay,” you whisper.

“And if at any point it’s not,” he prompted, placing a hand on your waist.

You simpered up at him, “You’ll be the first person I go to, love.”

He reached over and grabbed your bag off of your desk, carrying it to where the rest of the team is waiting for the elevator. “I’ll admit, I am interested in seeing your hometown,” he told you, letting you step into the elevator before him.

“Yeah, Y/N, maybe you can show us some of your old haunts once we solve the case,” Luke chimed in from the back of the elevator.

Laughing breathily, you turned your head to face Luke, “Do I really strike you as the kind of person to have ‘old haunts’, Alvez?”

A few of your team members chuckle. You faced forward, wondering how long it would be before one of them saw through you. When working with profilers, it was always a risk.

'cause all of my enemies started out friends

Emily sent you and Luke to the latest crime scene while she and Spencer set up at the precinct. JJ and Matt met with the latest victim's family while Tara and Rossi met with the medical examiner. Your stomach felt unsettled as soon as the plane landed, you had a bad feeling about this case. Spencer tried to ask you what was going on with you, but you just brushed him off.

You would tell him. After this case was over and you went home, you would tell Spencer everything. He deserved that.

“Did you know her?” Luke asked, using a gloved hand to inspect a shard of glass he found on the concrete.

Blinking rapidly, you snapped out of your stupor, “Melanie? Yeah, she was a year ahead of me in school. I graduated with Victoria though.” You used the toe of your boot to clear some dirt off of what looked like some sort of plaque. “I wasn’t all that close with either of them, but in a town this small, you kind of know everyone,” you explained.

Standing back up and walking back over to Luke, you looked at the building, it’s an abandoned factory on the edge of town. “Is there any significance to this building?”

“It was a functioning factory in the eighties,” you explained, looking at the vines growing up the side of it. “This business was the entire economy of the town, when the factory went down, so did the town.”

Luke nodded, taking a step back and eyeing the entire decrepit building. “And the church? Where the first body was found.”

You pursed your lips, “Only church in town, I was baptized there, when it burned down people had nowhere else to go, so they stopped believing.”

“How did the fire start?” He asked, turning the knob on the factory door, and looking surprised when it opened.

You shrugged, “lightning strike, I thought. I wasn’t much of a believer, especially once my mom died.”

Alvez nodded in understanding, “Would you say that both of these locations are important to the town and its history?”

Nodding, you followed Luke back to the SUV, leaning back in the passenger seat as you mentally prepared yourself for the scene your arrival at the precinct was about to cause.

When you got there, you immediately spotted the police chief ripping the lead detective, Charlie, a new one outside the front door. He saw you and did a double take, “And what the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

“Sir, we’re members of the BAU, our-“ Luke started explaining, obviously confused at the chief’s combative nature.

He held up a hand, “I wasn’t talking to you, agent.” Turning to face you, “You don’t show your face at home, leaving in the middle of the night ten years ago and now you’re what? A big bad FBI agent?”

You stiffened, pushing your shoulders back as you faced him. Stand tall, stay strong. “It wasn’t the middle of the night, and the FBI is only big and bad to the people who deserve it, Frank.”

The man in front of you scoffed, “I’m talking to your supervisor, you’re not working on this case.” He pushes past you, causing you to stumble back against the wall.

“What was that about? Who was that guy?” Luke asked, looking at you as you got your bearings back before walking into the precinct.

Bowing your head, you grumbled, “You just met my father.” At that moment, you were glad to be facing away from him, because you weren’t sure you could face any of it.

You’re still the newest member of the BAU, technically being a profiler but Emily pulled you in to help with public communications, since the old unit chief had been handling it along with Garcia, Emily did the same. When Spencer went to prison, she found she needed extra help, so you were snagged from your cozy office in sex crimes and sent to the BAU.

You fit in well with everyone, and you never really felt the need to prove yourself. Even taking the initiative to write letters to Spencer, because you didn’t want to be a stranger to him when he came back. So, when you met face-to-face last year, he thanked you. When you kissed him eight months ago, you both agreed to move slowly.

Seven months ago, he showed up at your door and told you he loved you.

Emily gave you an understanding look when she saw you walk into the police station, she, of course, knew everything about your situation.

“We don’t have enough for any sort of geographic profile yet,” Spencer said, standing in front of a whiteboard with a map over it, along with pictures of the two victims. He turned as soon as he saw you, smiling in a silent greeting. You winked in response, sitting down in the office chair next to him.

Luke stood in front of you, blocking your view of the whiteboard, “What do you mean that was your father? Why wouldn’t you say that your dad was the chief of police here?”

You shrugged, leaning back in the chair, “I may share DNA with the man, but I haven’t seen Frank Burris since I was twenty years old.”

“Doesn’t that bother you? Did she tell you?” Luke asked Spencer, who was still looking at the whiteboard, entirely unbothered.

“What did you find at the crime scene?” Emily asked, effectively ending Luke’s questioning. You had no idea if she had heard any of the previous conversation, but either way, you were grateful for the change in subject.

Taking a deep breath, you turned and faced her, “The dump sites are all places that are former symbols of the town, maybe the unsub wants to further desecrate these locations.” Emily nodded, prompting you to continue. “These kills are angry, the overkill and sexual assault definitely lean toward a male offender, I think the unsub is angry,” you said.

“Angry that his town is no longer what it once was,” Spencer suggested, taking his eyes off the whiteboard. “Are there any other locations that could fit that general description?”

Shaking your head, you crossed your arms over your chest, “Probably, I haven’t been here in ten years, it might help to talk to a local. Charlie could probably help.”

“Charlie can’t help with anything; the chief took him off the case. It belongs to me now,” a voice behind you said. Immediately, you straightened up in your chair, earning a strange look from Spencer. “Y/N, I’m looking forward to working with you,” the male voice said.

Swallowing thickly, you turned and faced him, “I wish I could say the same, Johnny.” You stood up, needing as much ground as you could get. “Do you know any places that would fit the description? Somewhere that used to be a symbol in the down, but is abandoned now?”

“The school burnt down about eight days ago, but you’d know that if you gave a damn about us,” he said indignantly, looking down at you.

You felt Spencer stand behind you, “do you have some kind of problem?”

Johnny eyed your boyfriend and you hoped he didn’t catch on to your relationship, “If I’m being totally honest, I’m not completely comfortable working with Y/N.”

“Our team was called in to help solve these murders and Agent Y/L/N is a part of that team,” Emily defended you. “If you have a problem, I suggest you suck it up until this case is solved.”

Angrily, Johnny stalked off. You turned around and grabbed a file off of the desk, glancing over at Emily and silently thanking her.

help me hold on to you

Later in your shared hotel room, Spencer looked at you curiously, “Was he an ex-boyfriend?”

You rolled your eyes and laid back on the bed, it wasn’t the worst bed you’ve slept in since joining the BAU, but it certainly wasn’t going to be winning any awards any time soon. “Don’t be jealous, Spence, it’s unbecoming," you deflected.

Spencer climbed on top of the bed and kissed your forehead, “I’m not jealous, I’m concerned.”

That made your heart clench, you sat up in the bed and cupped his face with your hands, “You don’t need to worry about me, okay?” You studied his face, the small crease in his forehead that told you he was overthinking the situation made you sigh. Gently, you leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his forehead. “If I think you need to be concerned, I’ll tell you,” you whispered, allowing him to gather you in his arms.

“Okay, angel,” he whispered back.

You sighed and laid back against the pillows, “I have a bad feeling about this case,” you told him softly. Spencer doesn’t believe in intuition the way you do, but he’d never discredit your feelings.

He reached over and swept your hair behind your ear, “Me too.”

Pulling away from him, you looked at him curiously, “Why?”

He shrugged, “Both of them look like you. You’re the same age as them.” The victims, he was saying the victims were too similar to you for his own comfort. You hadn’t really given it much thought. If you start comparing yourself to the victims, you’d freeze up. That was a luxury you couldn’t afford.

“I’m not going anywhere, Spencer,” you comforted, curling up next to him.

i've been the archer, i've been the prey

The call came at five in the morning, only four hours after you had gone to sleep. Splitting up into two SUVs, half of you went to the precinct while the other half of you went to the crime scene.

“Katherine Meadows was dumped in front of the school,” Emily said, leading you, Tara, and Rossi into the precinct. You were still pulling your blazer on over your tank top, having been given approximately five minutes between waking up and getting out the door.

You stopped in your tracks; your mouth went dry. You knew of the other victims, but you were friends with Katherine. She helped you pay for your plane ticket out of here. You owed her your life, and now you’d never be able to repay her.

“What kind of school is it? Elementary? High school?” Rossi asked, flipping through a file that had been left on a desk.

Snapping out of your daze, you shook your head, “It’s K-12 all in the same building, that’s why it’s such a big deal that it’s gone.” You looked at the whiteboard, there weren’t any pictures of Katherine up yet, but you could imagine it. She looked more like you than the other victims, and you silently cursed Spencer for putting those thoughts in your head.

“Agent Y/L/N,” you heard Johnny call from behind you, he and your father were charging toward you at an alarming pace. “Are you armed?”

Your head snapped up, “yes,” you answered, putting your hand on your holstered weapon, watching as Johnny and Frank pulled their guns out.

“Please hand over your firearm to Detective Klein and put your hands up,” Frank commanded.

Taking a deep breath, you handed the weapon over to Johnny, facing him directly. It gave you tunnel vision, and you couldn’t even hear the protests of your team as you raised your hands level with your head.

Johnny grabbed your wrists, and you hissed as he cuffed you, the metal cutting into your skin when he made the handcuffs too tight. “Y/N Y/L/N, you’re under arrest for the murders of Victoria Reynolds, Melanie Baylor, and Katherine Meadows. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law.” He shoved you in the direction of the interrogation room, “You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”

An officer opened the door, and he pushed you down into a metal chair, hooking your handcuffs to the table in front of you.He continued reading your rights, “If you decide to answer questions without an attorney present, you will still have the right to cease answering at any time until you are able to talk to an attorney.” Johnny said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Do you understand your rights?”

You glared up at him, “What the hell are you doing, Johnny?”

He slammed a palm on the table, “Do you understand your rights?”

Pursing your lips, you looked away and peered right at the glass window ahead of you, “Yes, I understand my rights.”

“With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?” He asked, leaning far too close to you, you could smell the cigarette smoke on his uniform. That smell was on you for years after you left, you were convinced you’d never be able to fully wash it off. Maybe you hadn’t.

You seethed up at him, “fuck no.”

Johnny nodded assuredly, opening the door to the interrogation room, and slamming it shut.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to pull the handcuffs away from where it was pinching your skin, you winced when it tore your skin. You set your head down on the cold table and sigh, knowing you should’ve taken Emily’s offer to stay behind when you had the chance.

Another officer came in later and told you they wanted your jacket and shoes for evidence, you didn’t fight them, numbly watching as he unlocked the handcuffs and took your jacket before putting the cuffs back on, just as tight. You kicked off your shoes for the officer and sat back down. Before he left, another officer came in and dropped an evidence box on the table.

It was an FBI scare tactic to leave an empty evidence box on an interrogation room table, but your box wasn’t empty.

They wanted to humiliate you in front of your team, and it was working. 

all the king's horses, all the kings men, couldn't put me together again

The next people to open the door were Charlie and Tara, they sat down across from you. “I’m really sorry about all of this Y/N,” he muttered to you, pulling some files out of the evidence box.

You shrugged and shook your head, “Nothing Johnathan Klein does to me anymore really surprises me.” You looked at the files.

Charlie was hesitant to open the files, “there’s some rough stuff in here if you’re okay with going over some of it with us.”

Swallowing thickly, you looked at the file, “I don’t really have a ton of choice, do I?”

You hated both of them for pitying you, but more than anything you hated your father and Johnny for doing this to you and wasting time while there was a serial killer on the loose. He opened the file and placed pictures of the three victims in front of you.

For a couple of minutes, he asked general questions. Do you know them? How did you know them?

Then Tara finally asked a question, “Y/N, how old were you when your mother died?” She asked you, placing a photo of you and your mom in front of you. You were probably seven in the picture.

“Ten,” you answered, looking at the picture. You wondered if you could keep it once this was all over.

“When you were ten, you started a string of hospital visits that lasted until you were twenty years old. Broken ribs, concussions, fractures, and… a miscarriage,” Tara said, your eyes snapped up to look at her.

Your mouth went dry “You had Garcia unseal my files?” You couldn’t help the hurt in your voice.

The way Tara looked at you, you could tell she understood you in a whole new light now, “we had to. She felt horrible doing it.” That you didn’t doubt, the whole team had a mostly unspoken rule on inter-team profiling. You nodded understandingly.

“Y/N, do you have an alibi for the murders? We already cleared up that you weren’t working, but can anyone account for your whereabouts?” Charlie asked impatiently, he knew you didn’t do this, and it might not be his case anymore, but you could still tell he wanted it solved.

Looking directly at Tara, you answered the question, “No, I wasn’t with anyone.”

Your coworker set her jaw as Charlie got up and left.

“How did you get those injuries, Y/N?” Tara continued her line of questioning, setting a packet of medical records in front of you. You were still cuffed, so all you could do was touch the papers with your fingertips.

The paper read of chromosomes and a D&C, you couldn’t help the tears that flooded your eyes, “I- uh. I don’t want to look at that, please.”

Quickly, Tara pulled the papers away, “who hurt you?”

You bit your lip to stifle a cry, “Tara, please.” You knew what was going on, the only person who knew everything was retaliating against the precinct. They humiliated you, so she was going to humiliate them. She repeated the question and this time you answered, “My father.”

“Was your father also the father of your baby?” She asked, looking down at the papers. Honestly, she looked just about as uncomfortable as you were.

Solemnly, you shook your head, “That was Johnny. We were together from when I was fifteen until I was twenty. My dad-“ Your voice broke off, “Frank never touched me like that.”

“Can you tell me more about Frank?” She asked softly, the way she spoke to victims. The one thing you had tried to avoid.

Blearily, you looked up at your friend, “Can we take a break?”

Nodding, Tara stood up. When she opened the door, you heard shouting. People asking if your cuffs could be taken off. You just let your tears fall for a moment. Charlie came back and unlocked your cuffs, looking at the dried blood on them and the still bleeding wounds on your wrists, “I- I think we have a first aid kit somewhere.”

You brushed him off, waiting for him to leave and for Tara to come back. She did, draping a sweater over the table, and you tentatively grabbed it. Sighing when you recognized it as Spencer’s, “Has everyone seen the paperwork?”

She nodded slowly, “are you alright to talk to me about Frank now?”

You used your newly freed hands to wipe under your eyes before pulling the cardigan on. “It was my mom, she took everything he threw at her to protect me,” you whispered. “He hit me when I was ten, I had gotten a bad grade in social studies. So, my mom and I planned to leave, but he figured it out,” you said, furrowing your brows at the memory. “He strangled her, and she died. He told everyone she hung herself. The whole town believed him because he was the chief of police.”

Tara wrote something down, “he killed her in front of you?”

You nodded, “He needed someone else to take his aggression out on after that, so he beat me.” You told her, fiddling with the hem of Spencer’s sweater. “So, when I was fifteen and I met a boy, I thought I had found the answers to all of my problems, but I really had just discovered more.”

“The boy was Johnathan Klein?”

Affirming her question again, you continued your story, “he was a horny fifteen-year-old boy, and he had sex with me even when I begged him not to. He told me he had to because he loved me, and I believed him.”

Tara leaned over and looked you in the eyes, “You know that wasn’t your fault.”

“Wasn’t it?” You asked meekly, tilting your head to the side. “He proposed to me the day we graduated from high school. I had already accepted the fact that I was never getting out of the town, but what I didn’t know was by getting engaged to him I was very nearly signing my own death certificate.” You took a deep breath and tried to ignore the ache in your chest, “I found out I was pregnant when I was nineteen, and looking back at it now, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”

Tara didn’t speak, she just listened. You supposed that was the psychologist in her, letting you take the lead in your own story.

You furrowed your brows as you tried to bring memories that you had spent so long burying to the surface. “I knew I couldn’t make my baby go through the same thing I went through, so I tried to run, but I didn’t get far. He found me, he beat me, he brought me to the hospital, and he told me I killed our baby.” You could see the story was bothering Tara. When you told Emily, you told her in pieces over the span of a month. “The only people I was allowed to see after that were my dad, Johnny, and Katherine.” You wiped tears from your face, “the judge wouldn’t grant me a restraining order, my only option was to run. So, when Kath showed up with a plane ticket and an envelope of cash, I took the opportunity and left.”

“Y/N, do you think these murders could be somehow connected to your upbringing here?” Tara asked, flipping through another file.

You looked back at the glass that separates the observation room, having no idea who was on the other side listening. “I didn’t until Reid said the victims looked like me,” you confessed. It felt too convenient, victims looking like you, you being framed for their murders. Yet, you still made sure not to call Spencer by his first name, afraid of giving yourself away. “Do they have any evidence?”

“They found soil from the factory crime scene on your shoes, but your jacket is still being processed. Without an alibi, we can’t get them to release you,” Tara said.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned back in the chair, “Of course, they found soil from the factory crime scene on my shoes, I was at the scene yesterday.”

The door opened and Frank stepped inside, “Your alibi spoke up.” He sounded irritated, but not as irritated as he’s going to be once the BAU is through with him.

i see right through me

Spencer had settled you down on a desk in the corner of the precinct, disinfecting the cuts on your wrists made by Johnny’s handcuffs. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, watching as he cleaned the debris from your torn skin.

He didn’t respond, he just shook his head. You could tell he was thinking, as clearly as if you could see gears physically turning in his head.

“Spence, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you whispered, bending your neck to try to catch his eyes.

He shook his head again, “I’m not upset, not with you at least.”

You raised your eyebrows in suspicion, “Then stop getting so lost in thought. What’s bothering you?”

He clasped both of your hands in his own, setting them in your lap, “Does it feel like a coincidence to you that the same night Johnny told us about the school the woman who helped you escape an abusive relationship was found dead at that school?” Spencer dropped your hands, reaching into the first aid kit and pulling out bandages before gingerly wrapping your wrists. At work, you tried to keep the public displays to a minimum, but you felt like these were extenuating circumstances, which was why you had secluded yourselves in the corner.

“I need to look at the crime scene photos again,” you said, trying to get off of the desk.

Spencer firmly placed both of his hands on your hips, effectively keeping you in place. “Once I’m done,” he whispered, securing the bandages on your wrists. “Are you alright?”

You tilted your head up at him and smiled sadly, “Everyone learned a lot about me today. Some of it I had never intended on telling them. I just feel… exposed? Raw?” You searched desperately for the right word to use to describe exactly how you feel.

Hanging your head low, your eyes traced patterns in the carpet when Spencer hooked a finger gently under your chin and lifted your head, so you were looking at him. His honey-colored eyes searched your face, and you felt like he was looking right through you. “You know nothing that happened today makes any of us see you differently, right? I don’t think of you as any less of a person because of what I learned today.”

You shook your head, “You don’t learn those things about your girlfriend and look at her the same.”

“You’re right. I don’t look at you the same, I’m even more in awe of you now than I was before. The fact that you’ve been through what you’ve been through and you’re this bright, shiny person sitting in front of me is astounding, but…” His voice trailed off.

Here it was, he couldn’t want who you were. He didn’t want the heavy history that comes with you. You shut your eyes.

He cupped your face with his hands, “it makes me worry that maybe I haven’t been there for you enough. Not in the same way you’re there for me.”

“Spence,” you whispered, swallowing back your emotions, and looking up at him.

Spencer shook his head, “I love you, and I have to make sure that you know that I’m always going to be there when you need me.”

Nodding rapidly, you stood up and wrapped your arms around him, “I know.” Your voice was little more than a rasp, “I know, I love you too.”

After assuring Emily and Tara that your friendship was intact, you turned to the team. “I think I play a bigger part in this case than I realize.”

“We were just coming to a similar conclusion, once we saw what Katherine Meadows looked like, it just confirmed our suspicions,” JJ said, looking at the whiteboard, which now had Kath’s picture on it, as well as yours. “The whole town seems to have it out for you, though. How do we narrow down the suspect pool?”

You stepped up to the whiteboard, “Because it’s not about the locations and their relation to the town, it’s about the locations and their relation to me.” You pointed to the factory, “When I was fifteen, this was the first place Johnny ever assaulted me.”

“You said he proposed to you at your high school graduation, right?” Tara said, “That’s the connection to the school.”

Nodding, you continued, “And we were going to get married at the church.”

Spencer wrote this all down on the whiteboard as you fit the pieces of this puzzle together. “Is there anywhere else that would fit in with these other locations?”

Flipping through a file, you set papers down on the desk in front of your team. “That’s our house, it was set on fire not long after I left,” you pointed out. “That’s where he’s going next.”

“But who will his victim be? If we can get to her before he can, then we can stop him before he gets to her,” Matt mentioned.

Slowly, you turned around and faced your team, “I don’t intend on letting anyone else get hurt. This is between me and Johnny.”

who could stay?

You sat yourself down at the dining room table. Nothing in the house had been moved, its charred remains were left defenseless against Mother Nature. You knew this table, there was blood ground into the wood grain. It was your blood.

You wished they had torn the rest of the structure down.

Spencer didn’t like the idea of you going alone, but you were armed, and you had an earpiece in. You weren’t alone, the team was nearby in case things went wrong.

“Incoming, blue pick-up pulling into the driveway,” Luke said through the radio. “Suspect’s getting out, it doesn’t look like anyone’s with him.”

Realistically, you knew nothing was going to happen to you, but there was some small voice in the back of your head that told you something was going to go awry.

You wiped your sweaty palms on the floral-patterned chair. Part of you was grateful that the team had enough faith in you to send you to get a confession on your own, but another part of you wished someone would’ve asked you if this is really what you want to do. Sure, you wanted Johnathan Klein to be put away for a long time, but you didn’t want to be in this house. When you left, you had hoped you’d never have to set foot in this godforsaken town ever again.

Sitting up straight, the front door opened. You’re not sure why he opens the door when there’s a hole in the wall leading right to you. “I thought you might come looking for me,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I always knew you’d come back to me, baby,” Johnny spoke to you in a low voice, but you knew the team could hear.

“I didn’t come here for you, Johnny,” you whispered, keeping your voice steady. “I came for the girls who were murdered. I knew them, we both did,” you told him. That was the truth, you felt like you owed them because they died while you got to live.

He sat next to you, placing a hand on your knee. It was all you could do to not flinch away from him. “Then why did you bring that guy? If not to make me jealous, then why?”

“Johnny, if I go with you, will it stop?” You asked, turning to him, reaching out your hand, and placing it on his arm.

Humming, he reached out and brushed your hair behind your ear, luckily not the side where you had your earbud in. “I don’t know what you mean, babe. You’ll have to spell it out for me,” he said, pulling you to your feet abruptly. You didn’t see the knife when he first walked in, you didn’t even know he had it until it was to your throat.

But you weren’t twenty years old anymore. You had grown up. You had learned self-defense.

So, you caught him off guard when you hit him, causing the knife to clatter to the ground. “You bitch!” He growled, “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“You won’t kill me,” you said, planting your feet on the ground. “You had five years to kill me, Johnny.”

He stood up, “No, but I killed a part of you. Didn’t I? When I killed your baby?”

After all these years, he knew how to get under your skin. He got one hit off, across your cheek, the strike so hard that your earbud went flying across the room. “You killed the part of me that you created, that’s not who I am. I recreated myself, a version of myself without this godforsaken town.”

“But I got you here, back home. I killed all those girls for you to come back to me,” he said, running straight at you.

You hit him with your gun, you physically struck him with the butt of the gun. You could’ve shot him, it would’ve been clean, but you didn’t. That would’ve been easy for him. He dropped like a ragdoll and the rest of your team came rushing in. Someone was calling your name, but you couldn’t hear.

Matt ended up being the one who cuffed him, you slowly walked away from them. Backing yourself into a wall, you watched it all happen.

When you left your hometown, you never quite felt like it was over. He was always still going to be around. But this? This felt final.

It made your chest ache.

Gently, Spencer took your hand and led you outside. “It’s done?”

He nodded rapidly, “It’s over, angel. Emily and Luke are at the precinct taking Frank into custody. They’ll both go away for a long time.”

“Spence, I want to go home,” you whispered, looking down the road and seeing houses that you recognize from your childhood. This whole town was filled with your own ghosts. “Can we go home?”

Spencer didn't answer, he just pulled you into him and held you tightly. You let him inspect the wound on your cheek before you went back to the hotel and put everyone’s belongings in an SUV.

On the jet, the two of you sequestered yourselves in the back where it’s darker. He offered to let you lie down, so you rested your head in his lap. He used one hand to hold his book and the other to smooth your hair back. Your eyes were shut, but you were vaguely aware of the rest of the team as they took turns peeking back at the both of you.

you could stay

please remember to like, reblog, and comment

[doodle17]

Future Raz and Lili archetypes wooooo

(In order from left to right)

Agent R: Raz's agent persona! Very over the top comic book type of guy. A little too courageous, and dives head first into situations. Doesn't understand jokes, tends to take them too literally. If you tell him to jump off a bridge because a higher up told him too, he'll do it without hesitation.

???: Yeah, no one knows who this guy is supposed to represent. He was Raz's first ever archetype, and he never really changed. (Personality wise) biggest head out of everyone, figuratively and literally (need to fit those big ass eyes)

Teacher: Very articulate strategic, and organized, it's Raz's teacher archetype! He showed up once Raz started counseling at Whispering Rock and taking on teaching interns. Definitely the most stressed out archetype of the bunch.

Ring Master: Raz's circus themed archetype! Big and dramatic, very theatrical expressions and personality. Acts as if he's always in front of an audience. He can even twist and stretch his paper without tearing, making him a great acrobat.

Sophisticate: This archetype represents Lili's more... Polite side. The perfect girl/daughter/agent that's very well behaved and professional. Usually the "facade" Lili puts up at business parties or big meetings to be a good example.

Loose Canon: The name pretty much explains it, but this archetype is for Lili's fiery attitude, especially on missions. Good at combat, likes to set things on fire, despite being made of paper, but that won't stop her. Arson...

Hopeless Romantic: Come on. She may not act like it, but we all know deep down Lili is a hopeless romantic, at least to some extent. That's why this archetype shows up. Boy and girl crazy, very sweet, flirty and so stinkin cute. Lili's least favorite Archetype, but she's definitely the favorite to some of Lili's co-workers!

[hermesserpent-stuff]

another radio script for Billy

The Whizz radio intro tones-

Billy Batson then starts speaking through a slightly crackly radio as Fawcett is a city someone lost to time, given its connection to the Rock of Eternity.

Welcome to WHIZZ Radio: Where we give the latest news, truths, and views of Fawcett City. Brought to you by your host, me, Billy Batson.

Today we’ll begin with our community news! Atlas would like to thank the people of Fawcett for their influx of offerings. We will all find a little more endurance this week. Captain Marvel also expressed thanks for the offerings left at his shrine and will continue to try his best for our city. 

Tonight is the new moon; a good time for spells of renewal, fresh starts, and seeking a way out of the darkness. Keep an eye out for candle sales so you can perform your renewing rituals at a reasonable cost. Beck’s Storehouse is running a sale on all black candles and as always a percentage of their sales goes to the local soup kitchen. Be sure to make a pit stop there before midnight tonight. I know I will!

Onto traffic! Currently, there are still delays on Mainstreet, but the fissures to Hades have been sealed up. Major thanks to Persephone. There are no other traffic delays to report.

Heres the weather! There has been a lot of Milfoil flowers springing up from Cap’s lightning strikes lately. Watch the skies for oncoming war. There will be a thin fog tonight, watch out for strangers lurking in the mists. Only go home with those you are sure are your friends and family. Spirits might pretend to be the people that you know. 

Right into the Capes and Crooks news bulletin. Dr. Sivana is still missing and will likely stay so for a while. Arson Fiend is back on the streets. Double check your fire insurance and keep an eye out for the pryokentic man. He has a tendency to go for businesses not insured by Sheild & Stone Insurance despite being fired from said company after his first arrest. You’d think hed stop showing company loyalty after the checks stopped coming, but nope! That dead hoofer seems set on getting everyone to sign up for Shield & Stone. Wild. 

This radio program is brought to you by Eloise’s Herbs and Verbs. A shop for all your cooking and spell-casting needs. If there's anything you need from Sunday dinner to Wednesday night curses, Eloise has you covered. Don't get your materials from the chain stores, get it from a local. Grown with care and sure to work every time.

*Little jingle*

Welcome back to the program. Time for our daily sister city’s segment. 

Annnnd….  

*sarcasm fills Billy’s voice*

I, Billy, your host, has been told that I need to apologize officially to Black Adam and state clearly that, my, Billy Batson’s, opinions do not reflect the opinion of WHIZZ radio. 

Im sorry for calling Black Adam a kook and someone bearing a grudge unbecoming of a king and calling him a ancient man-child.

There. Happy?

*indidstict producer noise*

Perfect. Onwards and upwards. 

Kahndaq continues to thrive despite the work of the UN and lack of response from the Justice League. Queen Bee has attempted to launch an attack on their northern border. Black Adam was quick to remind the world that while an ex-champion out of the good graces of the Wizard, he is still a champion with his own patrons' support. 

He threw a tank fifty feet and none in Kahndaq died from the attempted raid. The Justice League has expressed some worry over this feat of strength, but this reporter would like to remind people that Superman has been tossing robots for years. To me, it seems like a bunch of floy floy. 

Fawcett still stands with Kahndaq and recognizes the country as sovereign while most of the world sees it as illegitimate. Hold in there.

Adam has not been seen in Fawcett for a week. Which is good. Means he's focusing on what he's supposed to instead of harassing Cap like a stalker. Good for him. Maybe he actually going to anger management. Good for him!!

Guest speaker- interview or!! Opinion peoce- billy raving about anyone. Anyone. Good or bad.

Now its time again for Billy's opinion of the day!  

So!  Id like to take a moment and chatter about our other midwest hero, Flash! He’s been around town a few times and Im sure everyone heard about his big charity race with Supes! 

He’s a lot like Cap in how he helps out around his home town and he’s a great listener.

Just listen to this recent Facebook post by Nancy; ‘Flash recently helped my son find his way home. Joseph got turned around on the opposite side of town, without any phone battery. He was so nervous about trying to find any help, as most of the stores on the street were closed. Flash saw Joseph trying not to cry and helped him on his way home. Was nice enough to tell him what to do if it ever happened again. Real sweetheart, he is officially our family's favorite hero.’ What a story.

He also comes to help when Mercury gets in a racing mood, which is always nice. It helps keep drivers and random runners from randomly getting whisked to the racing stadium. 

Please dont forget to donate to the Flash drive that Central City is hosting tomorrow to help feed their speedsters. All that running makes them real hungry!.

*Mercury intro* 

Ah hello Mercury!! Here, a few viewers sent in a few gifts for you as thanks for yesterdays warning.

*chimes* 

 New mail? Thank you, Mercury! 

*shuffling papers*

Ah! Keep an eye out for a Victorian-looking child with an orange cat and pointed black hair. Klarion is back in town and may wish to cut a chaotic deal with you. Hopefully, he’s listening in. hey, Klarion! I didnt forget about our dinner plans. Please meet me at the Waffle House at 5. Please please dont forget that we planned to hang out because you got distracted with making chaos. Thanks pal! 

With that, our show comes to an end.

Do good, and good will follow.

And keep an eye on the sky for lightning!

This has been Billy Batson, signing off!

[ckret2]

The last chapters final lines gave me a quesiton, so in your version of the wider Gravity Falls setting do Trickster gods exist? Because all the gods we've seen so far seem to be working together under some larger bureaucracy, even if they don't get along well. Are all gods like that?

This isn't coming up for a couple more chapters but: all the word "god" means is "there are enough people out there who have started calling this person 'god' that it's sort of caught on and now everyone does it." You don't need particular powers to be called a god, and being called a god doesn't give you powers. It's not a state of existence with set duties.

You can be a god by creating a universe—or, you can be a god by being such a successful con artist that you tricked your whole county into thinking you're a god. The first category tends to look down on the second category and go "well you're not a REAL god" but that's just the thing. There IS no such thing as a real god. Just people who get called gods. If your culture thinks creating complex 3D forms out of 2D planes makes you divine then you could get declared a god for being really good at origami, and who's to say that this "power" is any lesser than any other god's?

The way they view themselves, as creator gods or gods of justice or time/space gods? Those are, like... social categories. They're like gender roles or high school cliques. They only exist because a big group of people are like "yeah, I guess that's a thing that's real" and because accepting the title "harvest god" is helpful for networking with other people in your line of work on Divine LinkedIn or whatever.

The reason so many gods are in roles that let them manipulate the fabric of existence or hand out planets or the like is because the kind of people powerful enough to affect reality on an interdimensional level are also the kind of people powerful enough that normal people look up at them and go "damn... that guy just vended a planet. That must be a god." Like, if we saw somebody rearrange the constellations for fun, how many people WOULDN'T go "that's a god"? Having power doesn't MAKE you a god; but the more powerful you are, the more people are weaker than you, and therefore the more people are likely to look up to you as a god.

And also, because the gods without powers that affect the fabric of reality generally aren't the gods showing up at a crisis that threatens the fabric of reality.

The reason every god you've seen so far seems to be part of a collaborative bureaucracy that works together is because every god you've seen so far came to the fire to work together.

(Except the furry snake, but she left as soon as she could.)

Like, think of humans. Not every human is part of a big group that works together—but if an apartment building burned down, and a politician experienced in finding temporary housing for refugees, a bunch of firefighters, a couple cops, a building inspector, a really helpful lawyer with a friend in the building, and an arson investigator who's been put in charge of the situation all showed up, you'd expect them to work together and report to each other on what they find out, right? That's why they came.

The gods that are worshiped for turning grapes into wine at parties or for inspiring singer-songwriters aren't the dudes who are showing up at an interdimensional wildfire/humanitarian crisis. You're specifically only seeing the kinds of gods that would show up to a cosmic fire—and not the kinds of gods that wouldn't show up.

So, yes—there are people who like causing trouble and playing pranks who are also powerful enough that other people go "well, I guess that must be a god." What's that if not a trickster god? They're a trickster and a god, right?

[won4kiss]

⋆ ｡⋆୨୧˚— LOML

𝜗𝜚 ༘⋆ ⋆˙pairing. husband! park sunghoon x fem! reader synopsis. park sunghoon was once the love of your life, and now he would be remembered as the loss of it. genre. angst ,, wc. 1600. 𝐥u𝐧a notes ⋆.˚ inspired by this song, i strongly advise u to listen to it as you’re reading<3 🫧 — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂

if you enjoyed reading, please reblog and like !!

our field of dreams, engulfed in fire. your arsons match, your somber eyes. and I’ll still see it, until I die. you’re the loss of my life.

the sun had barely risen, casting a soft, golden light through the sheer curtains of your shared apartment. the faint glow illuminated the room, making everything look almost ethereal, like a scene from a dream. but this morning, it felt more like a nightmare.

you and sunghoon had been arguing the night before. it started over something small – he had forgotten to pick up groceries on his way home. but like all unresolved tensions, it escalated quickly. the argument spiraled into something neither of you had anticipated, touching on deeper, more painful issues that had been boiling up inside of you beneath the surface for months.

“i don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal out of this,” sunghoon had said, his voice tinged with frustration.

“it’s not about the groceries, hoon!” you had snapped back. “it’s about you never listening to me anymore! you’re always so caught up in your own little world that you don’t even notice when i need you.”

he had run a hand through his hair, a gesture that showed he was trying to keep his temper in check. “that’s not fair, y/n. you know how busy i’ve been with work.” he said shaking his head at you as you felt yourself getting angrier.

“busy? we’re all busy! trust me, i’m busy too! but we make time for the people we care about. or at least, we’re supposed to.”

the argument had gone on for hours now, voices raised and accusations thrown cracking each of your hearts more by the second, each word cutting deeper. by the end, you were both exhausted and emotionally drained. sunghoon had retreated to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him, leaving you alone in the living room, tears streaming down your face.

you stared at the door, contemplating on making up with sunghoon, but you shook your head. you were done with the way he had been treating you, now he could deal with the consequences of his own actions.

the next day, in the early morning light, the weight of last night’s argument hung heavy in the air. you sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at a cold cup of coffee. you replayed the argument over and over in your mind, feeling the sting of regret with every bitter word exchanged.

sunghoon emerged from the bedroom, dressed for work. his face was pale and his eyes red-rimmed, a stark contrast to his usual composed self. he paused in the doorway, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read – a mix of regret and something else, something you couldn’t place.

“i’m leaving for work,” he said quietly, almost whispering. “i’ll be back late tonight. we can talk then.”

you didn’t look up. you couldn’t. the words were stuck in your throat, and all you could manage was a stiff nod.

sunghoon hesitated, then walked over to you. he bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “i love you, y/n,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

“mhm.”

that was all you could say, his words from last night were still clouded over you.

you were still too hurt, too angry. you didn’t respond. you didn’t even look at him. he lingered for a moment, as if waiting for you to say something else , anything else. when you didn’t, he straightened and walked out the door, the sound of it closing echoing through the empty apartment.

as the silence filled the air once again, you felt a churn in your stomach. a bad feeling, maybe you should’ve said something else, you thought.

the day passed in a blur. you went through the motions, trying to focus on anything other than the gnawing ache in your chest. but everything reminded you of sunghoon – his favorite coffee mug, the jacket he left draped over the chair, the photo of the two of you on the fridge, smiling and happy, a contrast to the misery you felt now.

you kept checking your phone, hoping for a text, a call, anything from sunghoon. but there was nothing. the silence was deafening.

It was now late in the evening, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room, you had been sitting on your couch, waiting for sunghoon to get home, yes you were angry but you had missed him much more than anything else.

and suddenly, there was a knock at the door. you excitedly opened it expecting to find sunghoon, but except finding two police officers standing there, their faces solemn.

“are you park y/n?” one of them asked gently.

your heart dropped to your stomach, you knew whatever the man was going to say next probably wasn’t going to be good.

“yes,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

“i’m afraid we have some bad news ma’am. your partner, park sunghoon, was involved in a car accident this afternoon. and.. i’m sorry, he didn’t make it.”

the world seemed to stop. everything around you faded into a blur, and all you could hear was the deafening roar of your own heartbeat. you felt like you were drowning, the weight of their words dragging you down into a dark spiral.

“no, no, you’re mistaken.” you whispered, shaking your head. “no, that can’t be true. i just saw him this morning, he was here- he can’t be...”

the officers exchanged a glance, their expressions filled with pity. “i’m very sorry for your loss. if there’s anything we can do...”

but their words were lost on you. the room seemed to spin, and you clutched the doorframe to keep from collapsing. sunghoon was gone. your sunghoon.

the last thing you had said to him – or rather, hadn’t said – echoed in your mind, shadowing down on you as if it was mocking you, a cruel reminder of your silence.

“i love you, y/n.”

the memory of his soft voice, so soft and full of longing and love, cut through you like a knife. you had ignored him, let him walk out the door without a word. and now he was gone. forever, and you couldn’t help but think he died not knowing how much you had loved him.

in the days that followed, you moved through life in a daze, present but not really there. the apartment felt unbearable, each corner filled with the ghost of sunghoon. you couldn’t escape him, and the memories – his laughter, his touch, the way he used to hold you when you were sad. every moment was a painful reminder of what you had lost.

you found yourself replaying that final morning over and over, wishing you could go back, not arguing with him, holding him a little longer, asking him to stay, and telling him how much you had loved him, but it was too late. the chance to make things right had slipped right through your fingers, leaving you with nothing but regret and a heart shattered into a million pieces.

sunghoon’s funeral was a blur of black clothes, tears and somber faces. you stood by his casket, staring down at his peaceful face, wishing with everything in you that he would open his eyes, with that gentle smile, and tell you everything would be okay. but he didn’t. he was gone, and nothing would bring him back.

as you stood over the casket, you held his hand. it was cold, it wasn’t the same warm hands holding you at night- the same hands holding you only two weeks ago.

glistening tears ran down your cheek as the people surrounding you watched in pity and despair for you.

“poor girl.. losing her husband at such a young age, i can’t imagine.” they whispered.

as the weeks turned into months, the pain didn’t fade. it settled into your bones and became a part of you, a constant ache that you couldn’t escape. you tried to move on, tried to live your life, but the weight of your loss was always there, a heavy shadow that followed you everywhere.

you couldn’t possibly forget him, he was your everything, he was the love of your life- and now he’ll be remembered as the loss of your life.

every night, as you lay in bed, you would hear his voice in your mind, whispering those final words. “i love you, y/n.”

you’d feel the absence of his comforting embrace, the arms that would coax you to sleep, his kisses, the feeling of his hair tickling your neck.

you remembered the wedding vows, you remember how sunghoon had promised you a lifetime with him, how you were supposed to grow old together.

you would give anything to hear him say his last words to you one more time, to have one more chance to say it back. but all you had were memories, and the haunting realization that the love of your life was gone, leaving behind a void that could never be filled.

@won4kiss

[gachaclubideas]

Part 2 of this is here!

@glitchychara (Glitchychara)

@matrixxdx (Gabrielle)

@jamesjexxisdeadlmao (Pelios)

@9mysterybook6 (Mystery)

@prometheus2007 (Promni)

@livesonya16 (Sonya)

@alinorianddrago (Ali)

@rhmis-user-2020 (Rhmis)

@rookie-choco (Rookie)

@ayelen0o0o (Ayelen)

@2laffy2 (Laffy)

@violetthediamondsblog (Violet)

(I'm going to use a spinning wheel for this, so it will be all random)

Gacha Tumblrs in The Purge

random person: The Purge now begin.

Glitchychara: Oh my goodness I've been waiting for this! *Gasp* I have to figure out where my enemies are right now because I think I should pay them a visit. Wait! I have a whole hit list, Let get started!

Ayelen: This Purge is making me hungry. I just really want a bag of Doritos.

random person: I'm about to get the last bag.

Ayelen: Nu uh! No you not! *killing the person*

random person: AHHHH

Ayelen: There we go. Whoo, tried to take my Doritos.

Sonya: So I stole this luxury car and now I'm driving 200 miles speed in the road. I think I hit like 5 people but who care! You only live once.

Laffy: *Gasp* Someone set my school on fire!? I wonder who did it? I mean it definitely wasn't me hehe. I would never commit arson

Rookie: Guess who just broke into a bank and just about to steal 2.7 billion dollars? Ah It's me!

Mystery: *dancing* Yas let's party!

***

Gacha Tumblrs in The Hunger Game

Rookie: I was fighting Ayelen for a Pop-Tart. I said I said “Give me the Pop-Tart.” and she just stabbed me like.

Ayelen: I am so lost. *Gasp* Some berries. *Eating the berries*……I think that was poisonous.

Gabrielle: Look that those pretty butterflies. Wait, they're bees! I'm allergic to bees!!

Violet: Hey Mr Game Maker, are you filming this?

Game Maker: Yeah.

Violet: Okay because I want to save this for later for when I have my reality TV show. Okay so basically Rhims came up to me and she was like- argh!? Promni why would you shoot me? I was having my Kardashian moment.

Laffy: Rhims please don't stab me. I was just trying to take a peaceful walk okay. *got stabbed* Rhims…😭

Mystery: *Gasp* Is that a snake? Aw come here, you remind me of myself. Huh!? Did you just bite me!? You're venomous!!

Pelios: Y'all I just made this amazing fire, it definitely won't let anyone know I'm here. Hey Glitchychara, how did you find me?

Glitchychara: I saw the fire.

Pelios: Oh. Argh!! *got stabbed* Glitchychara why did you stab me?

Glitchychara: *hear the bear roar* Was that a bear!? Oh my goodness, RUN!

Rhims: Okay only three more to go. Sonya, Ali and- guh! Promni, did you just hit me with your axe?!

Promni: Sonya why did push me into the lake? You know I can't swim.

Game Maker: New rules, there can be two victors.

Sonya: Ali did you hear that? That means we both won! *Got stabbed* Did you just slice me with your sword!?

Ali: This is a solo, not a duel. So where's my money? Do I get paid or something?

***

Gacha Tumblrs in A Haunted House

Violet: You told we were going to Taylor Swift concert. But this look like Taylor Swift?

Violet's friend: I had to trick you coming

Violet: Well you don't have to trick me leaving, because I am out.

???: OooOoOoo

Violet: Is that a ghost!? No, you know what I'm just stick with y'all.

Pelios's creator: Where have you been? I've been looking for you everywhere.

Pelios: I was just playing this teddy bear that I found.

Pelios's creator: Wait did you touch it?

Pelios: Yeah why?

Pelios's creator: You could be possessed!!

Pelios: I could be possessed!? What- *being possessed*

Rhims: Y'all I think I can see the ghost of Prince Philip in the corner over there.

random person: I am not a ghost. This place used to be a nursing home when they left me when they moved.

Rhims: My goodness

random person: Look at that ghost.

Ali: That right here is not a ghost. That is just someone who need a haircut. Hey little ghost girl.

random person: She does not want to talk you.

Ali: No she just shy. Look, I have a coupon to this great hair salon. I can get you hooked up and everything.

little ghost girl: What?

Ali: See she interested.

The ghost: Hey so I'm the ghost of this house. And if y'all don't get out in next 10 minutes, I will personally possess each one of you.

Gabrielle: No I do not want to be possessed! Today is not the day, we gotta go!

Ayelen: If the ghost wants to fight, then we could just fight. I mean I fight the ghost.

Mystery: Come on, we just have to start the car.

random person: The car won't start.

Mystery: Really? Okay I just call the Uber.

random person: We don't have cellphone service.

Mystery: Oh my goodness, well I guess we walking home.

Laffy: Y'all that haunted house was nothing. If one of y'all want to see something haunted, then let just go to the bathroom at Walmart.

[candied-cae]

Okay... I finished OFMD S2...

And yeah, as much as it breaks my heart, this season disappointed me in so many different ways. There are a few things I absolutely adored, but a lot of it felt like a disservice to a lot of the work S1 did to establish the universe and its characters.

Oluwande gave Stede advice like one whole time this season, even though that was a big part of the first. Him consistently being supportive was such a light, and it was pretty much replaced with him just being generally bubbly (and I fucking loved watching him be bubbly and joyful, might I add, but it's different).

Jim's complicated relationship with the idea of taking vengeance wasn't brought up at all. Jim's relationship with Oluwande was absolutely shifted, even now, I cannot watch S1 with the knowledge that they're going to be played off as "best friends who hooked up once" and see it, they HAD to have been intended as an endgame couple in the beginning.

Frenchie didn't sing even once, despite the fact that the very first scene opens to his voice! Frenchie as a character was shrunken a ton, in general. Ed leaned on him a lot in S1, that was gone. Wee John was shown as his best friend, but how many words did they even exchange this season? They let him do another grift, but it didn't include Oluwande so (personally) it felt cheapened.

Wee John didn't make a single fucking joke about fire! Even though there was a lot of fire this season, and he made like three separate comments about arson in the previous one?!?!?! And, again, he barely even talks to Frenchie at all!

The Swede was benched for half the episodes, Buttons became a bird halfway through and possibly won't be coming back at all, Ivan was killed off with a one-liner, and Izzy died as a completely backwards version of himself that we were given almost no show of him transitioning into.

Izzy, who practically stole a bunch of other character's "moments" while they rushed through his redemption so they could kill him at the end and hope they got everyone attached to him enough to care. Izzy got to sing, Izzy got to play advisor to Stede, Izzy got to do drag with John, Izzy whittled a gift for Lucius instead of Pete, Izzy pretty much interrupted every single scene Gentlebeard had... It's just... frustrating.

Season 1 was revolutionary to me, but Season 2 just felt far more average in comparison. I don't know, I was so excited, and rewatching season 1 is still exhilarating, but season 2 just doesn't do as much for me. I really feel like it was the wrong choice to spend as much time as they did with Izzy when they still skipped almost the entirety of his "redemption," condense so many of the other characters to make for time, but still make sure we could fit in some incredible jokes.

One of the only things that didn't change for me, was the humor.

But about half of my favorite things just didn't exist these last 8 episodes, so I need to go drown myself in some fanfics.

[ep2nd]

Incorrect quotes, Empires superhero AU edition. From @pacificwaternymph, go check it out on Ao3 too!

--

Xornoth: I have an idea

Sausage: Does it involve fire?

Xornoth: No

Joey: Does it involve burning something down?

Xornoth: No

Scott: Let's hear it

Xornoth: ARSON

Scott: NO.

--

Lizzie, who is temporarily blind: I'm not trusting my well being in the hands of Fwhip!

Katherine: It's either them or Scott

Lizzie: ...

Lizzie: So what are you doing today, Fwhip?

Scott: Hey!

--

Sausage: In my defense-

Sausage: *punches Fwhip*

Pearl: What was that for?!

Sausage: A good defense is a good offense

Gem: That's not how it works

--

Jimmy: This is a safety pin.

*cuts off end*

Joel: It is now a danger pin.

--

Shubble: Operation no more distractions is a go!

*not even 10 seconds later*

Shubble: Oh, look! A butterfly!

~

Jimmy: Ladies, gentlemen, I want to show you the greatest thing your eyes have ever beheld!

Scott: A llama?

Jimmy: No.

Scott: A baby llama?

Jimmy: No!

Scott: A baby llama with a little hat on?

Jimmy: NO!

~

Pearl: *spits mouthful of blood onto floor* You’ve become far more powerful since we last crossed paths.

Dentist: Please stop, there’s literally a sink right next to you.

~

Random Guy: *kicks Jimmy*

Jimmy: *starts crying*

Lizzy: *glares*

Random Guy: Awww what is this lil itsy baby child gonna do-

Lizzy: Your IP address is 157.134.166.42

Random Guy: Wha-

~

Sausage: Pearl, did you know you're my favorite sibling?

Pearl: *narrows eyes* Sausage what did you do no-

Gem: PEARL, SAUSAGE ATE ALL OF MY COOKIES.

~

Katherine: When Gem gets back, we're cleaning the building

The rest of the Alliance: *Looks at each other*

*5 hours later*

Katherine: Where's Gem?

Jimmy: Not back that's for sure

--

Jimmy: Two wrongs don’t make a right.

Scott: *sighs* That’s true…

Scott: But two negatives make a positive!!!

--

Pix, referring to Lizzy and Jimmy: Those guys are dorks.

Katherine: Yes, but they’re my dorks.

--

Pix: You know, people treat me like a god.

Shubble: How?

Pix: They ignore my existence unless they need something.

[monstrousgourmandizingcats]

Some books and stories that I think are worth reading in conversation with Yellowjackets

Shirley Jackson, all works but especially The Sundial, The Haunting of Hill House, and We Have Always Lived in the Castle. Jackson might or might not need any introduction in this fandom. The Sundial is her take on doomsday preppers, Hill House is of course her haunted house novel (one of the classics of that genre), and Castle has a female protagonist who makes Shauna look like a plaster saint.

Flannery O'Connor, The Violent Bear It Away. O'Connor's work has some of the most pervasive darkness and brutality of any major American writer (maybe Ambrose Bierce comes close), and the second of two novels that she completed before her death is no exception. (The first, Wise Blood, is also very good; the intended third, Why Do the Heathen Rage?, only exists as a fragmentary short story.) Francis Marion Tarwater is kidnapped and raised in the woods by his great-uncle, who is convinced that Francis is destined to be a prophet. The great-uncle's death commences a bizarre adventure involving auditory hallucinations, sinister truckers, an evil social worker, arson, developmental disabilities, and baptizing and drowning someone at the same time. Content warnings for all of the above plus rape. O'Connor is also a fairly racist author by today's standards--she was a white Southerner who died in 1964--so keep that in mind as well.

Ruth Ozeki, The Book of Form and Emptiness. Teenage protagonist is schizophrenic and also a channel for a genuinely supernatural force; well-intentioned but poorly-considered efforts to treat one of these issues make the other worse. Sound familiar? There are supporting characters who are affectionate parodies of Slavoj Zizek and Marie Kondo. A minor character is a middle-aged lesbian who cruises dating apps for hookups with much younger women. Some people find this book preachy and overwritten, but I really like it and would plug it even if I didn't because the author is someone whom I've met and who has been supportive of my own writing.

Yukio Mishima, The Decay of the Angel. Can be read in translation or in the original Japanese. This is the fourth and last book in a series called The Sea of Fertility but I wouldn't necessarily recommend the first three as particularly YJ-ish; Decay is because it deals at great length with issues of doubt and ambiguity about whether or not a genuinely held, but personally damaging, spiritual and religious belief is true. There's also more (as Randy Walsh would put it) lezzy stuff than is usual for Mishima, a gay man. Content warnings for elder abuse, sexual abuse of both children and vulnerable adults in previous books in the series, forced abortion in the first book if you decide to read the whole thing from the beginning, and the fact that in addition to being a great novelist the author was also a far-right political personality.

Howard Frank Mosher, Where the Rivers Flow North. An elderly Vermont lumberjack and his Native American common-law wife refuse to sell their land to a development company that wants to build a hydroelectric power plant. Tragedy ensues. I haven't read this one in a long time but some images from the movie stick in my mind as YJ-y. Lots of fire, water, and trees.

Leonard Cohen, Beautiful Losers. Yes, this is the same Leonard Cohen who later transitioned into songwriting and became a household name in that art form. Beautiful Losers is a very weird, very horny novel that he wrote as a young man; it deals with the submerged darkness and internal tension within Canadian and specifically Quebecois society. One of the main characters is Kateri Tekakwitha, a seventeenth-century Iroquois convert to Catholicism who was probably a lesbian in real life (although Cohen unfortunately seems unaware of this). This one actually shows up YJ directly; the song "God Is Alive, Magic Is Afoot" that plays in the season 2 finale takes its lyrics from a particularly strange passage.

Monica Ojeda, Jawbone. Can be read in translation or in the original Spanish. Extremely-online teenage girls at a posh bilingual Catholic high school in Ecuador start their own cult based on such time-honored fodder as Herman Melville novels, internet creepypasta (no, this book does not look or feel anything like Otherside Picnic), and their repressed but increasingly obvious desire for one another. The last part in particular gets the attention of their English teacher, whose own obsessive internalized homophobia grows into one of the most horrifying monstrous versions of itself I've ever read. Content warning for just about everything that could possibly imply, but especially involuntary confinement, religious and medical abuse, and a final chapter that I don't even know how to describe. Many thanks to @maryblackwood for introducing me to this one.

Jorge Luis Borges, lots of his works but especially "The Aleph," "The Cult of the Phoenix," and "The South." Can be read in translation or in the original Spanish. The three works I list are all short stories. The first deals with mystical experiences and the comprehensibility (or lack thereof) of the universe, the second with coded and submerged references to sexuality in general and homosexuality in particular, the third with leaving your well-appointed city home for a ranch in the middle of nowhere and almost immediately dying in a knife fight, which is surely a very YJ series of things to do.

H.P. Lovecraft, "The Colour out of Space," "The Dunwich Horror," "The Dreams in the Witch House," and "The Thing on the Doorstep." Lovecraft in general needs no introduction--the creepiness, the moroseness, the New Englandness, the purple heliotrope prose, his intense racism (recanted late in life but not in time to make any difference in his reception history) and the way his work reflects his fear of the Other. These short stories are noteworthy for having settings that are more woodsy and less maritime than is usual for Lovecraft's New England, for overtones of the supernatural rather than merely the alien, for featuring some of his few interesting female characters, and for their relative lack of obvious racial nastiness. Caveat lector nevertheless.

Herman Melville, Moby-Dick. It's Moby-Dick. Once you realize that Captain Ahab is forming a cult around the whale and his obsession with it you can't unrealize it.

[princeescaluswords]

Alternative Production

Come with me on a journey into the world of imagination! You see, there's been a recent trend in the Teen Wolf fandom that intrigues me. The parts of it that dislike Scott have finally, finally come to admit that Scott McCall is the main character after 13 years of denial. Which, to the surprise of absolutely no one, does not mean they have developed more empathy for Scott, because nothing short of A-Clockwork-Orange level of brainwashing could do that. Instead, it means that their bottomless dislike is, in their eyes, more justified, because as the main character, he should be held to a higher standard and endure closer scrutiny than other characters.

So, with a wave of our creativity wands, we banish Teen Wolf to the void. Poof! Instead, MTV came out in 2011 with a show called Sourwolf, chronicling the adventures of Derek Hale, one of the last surviving members of the Hale family. Now, bear in mind, we're not going to change the setting, the backstory, the plot, or the characterizations of any of the characters. We're simply going to shift the lead protagonist position to Derek rather than Scott.

In the first episode, Derek returns to his home town only to find his sister murdered. Instead of acting like a normal human being and calling the cops, he buries her in the side yard of his burned-down family home, enchanting her corpse so it will look like a wolf with the symbol for vendetta. He obviously intends to get revenge. He sees two teenagers on his property and immediately perceives that one of them has been turned into a werewolf, which means that another werewolf killed Laura. Deciding once again against acting like a normal human being, he decides to stalk the young man in hopes of finding the werewolf who killed his sister rather than offer his insight to a kid who must be scared out of his mind. He follows Scott home, listens in on his conversations with his best friend and his mother, and crashes a high-school party. When he realizes that he's on a date with an Argent, he doesn't warn the young man, because if he did, Derek might lose his chance to find the alpha. Instead, he steals Allison Argent's jacket and uses it to lure Scott into the woods. When he finally has a conversation with Scott, he doesn't tell Scott about the new alpha or the Argents, he just insists that Scott needs him and that they're brothers now.

Whoo! That's just the first episode!

In the second episode, when he sees Scott engaging in unsafe behavior, he doesn't approach his new-found brother and explain the situation with gentleness and wisdom, he breaks into his house, throws him up against the wall, and threatens to kill him. He has to do this, because if he told Scott everything, Scott might run and hide and Derek would lose his chance to find the alpha, and nothing matters more than Derek's revenge. It's a very good character flaw for a lead protagonist, and it even lead to the plot complication of getting him arrested for a little bit!

In the third episode, the insurance investigator who concealed the arson that killed his family is attacked, and Scott thinks that he might have done it in a dream, but Derek realizes this is an important clue to the identity of the alpha. The killer must know about the fire. He doesn't share this information with Scott, because fuck that kid's autonomy, at least until Scott threatens to go to the Sheriff.

And so on and so on. Derek will do all this to Scott without ever apologizing for it, because the only thing that is important to Derek is his vengeance. He'll help the kid out but only when he has to, because Scott is the means for him to find the alpha.

Derek's obsession with finding the killer of his sister is a very understandable character arc for him to have, but now, in Sourwolf, he is the lead protagonist. So, of course, the people who don't like Scott for not apologizing for the right things or apologizing in the wrong way or not understanding Derek's enormous manpain or submitting to Derek's alphadom or not telling Derek about Gerard's cancer or violating Derek's autonomy when forced to make a choice between doing that and getting Allison's throat ripped out or everything else they hate Scott for are going to hate Derek for doing objectively worse things (not the least reason is that Derek is an adult "born wolf" and Scott is a teenager who didn't know that werewolves existed three months ago) such as stalking or breaking and entering or threatening to kill teenagers or never apologizing or not apologizing in the right way or not being a proper mentor for a young wolf or letting Peter violate Scott repeatedly, right? RIGHT?

Ha, ha, ha. You know, I know, they know, and God knows that if Sourwolf was the actual show, they wouldn't find reasons to dislike Derek or his behavior because they don't actually dislike Derek's behavior as long as it's Tyler Hoechlin doing it. There's a reason that a character played by Tyler Hoechlin standing by and watching a character played by Ian Bohen physically and mentally violate a naked teenager played by Tyler Posey doesn't make them respond with visceral hatred and endless scornful meta about how dare the character played by Tyler Hoechlin think he has the right to call himself an alpha. I just don't know what that reason could be.

BUT IT'S NOT RACISM.

[angelsanarchy]

Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 30

Tagging: @ophelialaufey @madamemaximoff06 @forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27 @shroomje

Oystein got home and could tell something with Y/n was off. He had heard bits and pieces from Hellhammer but Y/n was adamant that she didn't want him to do anything about it. He knew Y/n wasn't afraid of him but he knew Varg was a violent person with a short temper. The last thing he wanted was for her to set him off by showing no fear. He thrived on shit like that.

He had called Varg and asked him to meet with him to discuss the album and when he caught sight of him, he tossed the copy of Kerrang on the table in front of him.

"You know this is bullshit right?" Varg sat down clearly pissed.

"What are you talking about? You're on the fucking cover? What else could you ask for?" Oystein asked confused.

"Your name is all over the thing. You didn't want any of this going to the press, I took it there and it's just another thing you get to take credit for like you're the brains of this whole thing." Varg's disdain for Oystein had grown so much in such a short time, he knew that whatever he said would only make things more hostile.

"Look, I didn't ask you here to argue about pointless things. I wanted to-"

"I'm going to release my own music on my own label." Varg cut him off.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Oystein asked.

"It means I don't need you anymore. You'll have to find some other idiot to steal from." Varg pressed. Oystein shook his head at him.

"I haven't stolen anything from you Varg." Varg started ranting about the money that was used to make Mayhem's album and Oystein pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He knew the money panned out in the end with having Varg join the band but it was pointless to try and sort things out at this point.

"You know what? I think that's a great idea. I think you should release your music on your own label, you want to quit Mayhem, that's fine. We can finish the album on our own and even kick you out some of the profit from what you've already put into." Oystein folded his hands in front of him and Varg shook his head.

"You're such a sellout." Varg chuckled.

"What else do you want from me man? You're getting everything you want-"

"I want for people to know that you are a poser. I want people to know that the so called creator of pure Norwegian Black Metal betrayed it with his bullshit lies and deceit." Varg's words were harsh but Oystein knew he didn't care what Varg thought of him.

"I want your whole world to burn to the ground and people to see you for who you truly are. A weak, pathetic hack who profited off the death of his friend and is run around by the cock on a leash by some Itzig." Varg spoke with such disgust about him but it wasn't until he mentioned Pelle and Y/n that he felt himself grinding his teeth and clenching his fists.

"I know what you said to her and that's the end of it. You want to come after me, tell people I'm some piece of shit poser, go ahead. But you approach Y/n again, you so much as breathe on her and I'll kill you myself." Oystein spoke softly so the people around them couldn't hear but Varg laughed.

"Just because you boasted like you puppeteered your little buddy Pelle into blowing his brains out, doesn't mean you've got even an ounce of killer in you, Oystein." He mocked. It was becoming increasingly hard to maintain his emotions.

"You want to see the killer in me, keep it up. There's only one thing in this world that I would kill for and that's Y/n. I will do whatever it takes to protect her, even if that means sitting in a cell next to you for arson. You can believe that above everything that's ever come out of my mouth." He held Varg's gaze and he knew that Oystein was serious. He didn't fear him but he knew that he had the capability to end his career before it even started if he ended up in prison for the church fires.

"Well I hope you're also willing to die for her as much as you say you would kill for her." Varg pushed away from the table and left the magazine and the necklace he had given him when he first joined the band sitting on the table. Oystein watched him leave with his hood up, making sure no one saw his face and he sighed. He felt a little bit of the weight lift off of his shoulders. He felt like he had just broken up with someone but that someone hated his guts and wished nothing but the worst for him.

Oystein pulled his wallet out and looked at the picture he had put in there of himself, Pelle and Y/n the first night he wore the corpse paint. He felt a pang in his heart for those times. Everything seemed so much easier then. He wished he could go back and change things. He felt himself getting emotional and jumped up from the table, grabbing the magazine and necklace and trashing them on his way out of the restaurant.

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Always Him : Prologue

Word Count : 1k

Warnings : swearing, food mention, mentions of sex, mentions of being tied up, mention of arson, kinda angsty, kinda crackheadassery

A/N : Just a brief introduction to some of the characters! Hope you enjoy the mess that is about to come.

          She woke up wrapped in his arms for the third time that week. He always seemed to hold her closer when he’s sleeping, their bodies contorting into one mess of limbs, but she loved it. Loved how peaceful he looked, loved seeing how perfect they fit together. Like two puzzle pieces specifically made for one another.

            She would allow herself to imagine what life would be like if they were more than friends. If he loved her outside of his bedroom. And then she would slowly remove herself from his hold and sneak back into her room, laying in her own bed, dreaming of the day Hongjoong would let her in.

~

            “Wake the fuck up, we’re going to be late again.” Mae said as she jumped on top of Y/n. “Whatever, or whoever, it is you’re doing at night, you need to stop or you’ll fail out of uni.” Y/n groaned as she wrapped her arms around Mae, rolling both of them over, and pretended to keep sleeping. “This works too. Goodnight.”

            “Fuck sake Mae, you were supposed to be waking her up, not falling asleep with her.” Kayla said as she walked into the room, yanking the covers off both of them, causing both of them to groan and beg for 5 more minutes. “Yunho is here with coffee and breakfast. Get dressed and be downstairs in 10 minutes. Both of you.”

            “Yes mom.” Mae groaned, sliding out of bed, and walking over to Y/n’s closet. She looked through her clothes, picking out an outfit for her, and throwing it towards the bed Y/n was still laying in. “Put that on. It’ll drive whoever you’re fucking crazy when they see you.”

            “Who said I was fucking anyone?” Y/n pouted back, quickly slipping on the outfit that Mae chose for her.

            “The hickeys on your tits. And the one on your neck. Might want to put some concealer on babes. I’ll meet you downstairs.” With a kiss to her cheek, Mae left Y/n’s room, who was now standing in front of her mirror, curing Hongjoong in her mind while trying to cover up all 5 hickeys he left.

            “Thanks Yunho.” Y/n said as she ran down the stairs and into his arms. “You always know how to make mornings better.” He gave her an extra squeeze before letting her go.

            “I should go check on the others. When I left the apartment, Jongho was making his way inside, so I’m sure Wooyoung is there by now. Gotta make sure they didn’t let Mingi near the kitchen.”

            “Is he back to setting things on fire again?” Kayla asked from the comfort of Seonghwa’s lap. He had his arms wrapped tightly around her so she wouldn’t go anywhere, leaving her to have to feed him his breakfast. It was a routine at this point, a sight everyone was so used to seeing that they’d be more confused if they sat separately.

            “You’re talking as if he ever stopped. Introducing him to Mae was the worst idea.”

            “That’s my baby!” Y/n laughed, high-fiving Mae, and then San who wanted to be included.

            “I did nothing but show him his true potential.” Mae replied matter-of-factly. “Besides, it’s only arson if you get caught.” Kayla reached into her purse for the tiny spray bottle she started carrying around once she became a mom to the group of idiots, and sprayed Mae in the face.

            “Bad Mae. We don’t do crime.”

            “Be gay. Do crime.” Y/n chimed in, earning herself a spray from the spray bottle.

~

            The 6 of them walked to school together as they do everyday. Seonghwa and Kayla were holding hands, swinging their arms back and forth, as she continued her conversation with Mae and Y/n, who were walking with linked arms. San was on the other side, his arm draped across Mae, every once in a while giving his own opinion on whatever the conversation was. Hongjoong walked slightly ahead of everyone else, every once in a while glancing back to see Y/n already looking at him.

            He had hoped she wouldn’t cover the marks he left. Hoped she would show them off proudly, but he should have known she would cover them. They were just friends, nothing more than friends that live under one roof. Friends that keep ending up in each other’s beds. Like an undeniable force bringing them together over and over again.

            He couldn’t stop looking at her. Glancing back every few seconds to look at her again, hoping no one else would notice. Every time he saw her, it was like the songs wrong themselves. Lyrics floated around in his mind. But friends write songs about friends all the time.

            Maybe his songs verge on love songs with the way he describes the feelings he has. How beautiful he finds her, how drawn to her he is. It’s like she understands him in way no one else does, and he could spend the rest of his life with just her, and he would be happy. But it’s all platonic, mixed with some physical attraction. How could he not want to fuck her when she looks at him with a pout on her face but dirty words dripping from her lips?

            She made it impossible to be around her without thinking of all the dirty things she’s begged him to do to her. He looks at her and can’t help but to picture her all tied up and helpless with his head in between her legs. That happens between friends sometimes, right?

            He wasn’t in love with her. He couldn’t be. She was just a friend he enjoyed fucking into submission most nights. Friends with benefits if you will.

            But maybe if he could take just one second to see the hearts in her eyes when she looks at him, he would see things differently. If he could get out of his head long enough to see that she allows him to use her because in those moments she can pretend he loves her, maybe he could see that friends don’t look at friends that way.  

back to masterlist

@mxnsxngie @maeleelee @lethallyprotected @choisoorin @berryblog @anyamaris @nebulousbookshelf @junebug032

[mylifeisfruk4ever]

Tim woke up to the smell of burning. He immediately became alert.

The clock struck seven and all kinds of hypotheses made their way into his mind.

A gas leak.

An arson.

A Rouge had discovered who Batman was and had come to kill Bruce.

Jason would say he was paranoid, but if you wanted to stay alive in Gotham, paranoia was needed.

Without hesitation, the boy got out of bed, grabbed his skateboard and prepared to defend himself.

When he opened the door, he didn't find a Joker minion. There was his brother.

"Tim, what the hell are you doing?!" Jason asked, surprised. 

"We are under attack!" he exclaimed. "I wanted to help."

Jason laughed, "Put that thing down, little bird. We're not under attack."

"But there's a fire!" Tim yelled.

"It's not a fire. It's Bruce."

"Bruce?"

"Come on, I'll show you."

READ MORE Halloween sweet traditions

[inconsistent-kuroshitsuji-blog]

Yandere Alphabet: Undertaker

This is a request not made by someone on Tumblr, but rather from my own circle of people from real life. Yeah, you know I'm talking about you. Feeling called out yet? Good. You little fluffy simp.

Anyway...

MAJOR CONTENT WARNING!

As you may be able to guess, Yanderes are rather bloody and not nice from a human rights point of view. This post features a couple of human rights violations, for example kidnapping, torture, gaslighting, manipulation, cencorship, drugging and drug abuse, psychological warfare, being almost exclusively fed with biscuits, arson, and many more I do not know of yet. But you little freaks probably like that, otherwise you wouldn't be reading this.

(For the love of anything unholy, why does he look like he's jerking off in that GIF? Also, I found my headline fond again. And I figured out how to add a "read more" barrier. I'm getting good again.)

Yandere Alphabet: Undertaker

A - Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

You know how little children tend to cling to their favourite stuffy and won't let them go for anything, not even washing? This is how intense he gets. He takes you everywhere he goes, as long as you won't hinder him. He hugs you tight and then just drags you along, wether you like it or not. Another thing he likes to do is to pet and caress your head with his fingernails, he knows that it feels good. He puts a huge emphasis on physical touch, if you couldn't tell. It's his love language, in contrast to giving gifts. These are rewards for you behaving well, not signs of affection, because they can be bought again and again and don't mean anything to him. They were bought with money after all, and we all know that he could care less for money.

B - Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

It is an understatement if I said he would kill. He would light houses and humans on fire, he would publicly execute people and make it seem like an accident. He would chloroform them and bury them alive, with or without a coffin, depends on his mood.

C - Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

First of all, you're getting locked in a room. You need sleep after being drugged so heavily. He knows his poisons well, he's embalming people for a living after all. You get to keep a few belongings from your old home, but mobile devices or anything technically advanced is off the table for now (he's a grandpa, let him be). He doesn't throw them away, he just doesn't want you to be able to contact anyone who could potentially help you. The police for example. He doesn't need the police on his poarch again. It happened once, it wasn't pleasant. The only food available for you at that moment are buiscuits, you will have to cook for the both of you if you want anything proper. But that won't happen soon, as you are locked in a room. What a bummer. It will only get better with time, if you manage to earn his trust. Otherwise, you have to stay in your room. And it is boring there. Kind of to mock you how empty your life is without him in the room.

D- Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?

Of course, you're his now after all. You don't want to wear the clothes he selected for you? It's either this or you might aswell run around naked. He forces you to sleep in his coffin with you. Does not matter if you barely have any space in there together, you could be standing in the corner or be sleeping on the floor. The room you first wake up in only has a rather thin matress without any sheets or blankets. So? What will it be? Of course it will be him.

E - Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He knows on which power level he is in comparison to others. And he knows he is way above them. What, you are trying to get a reaction out of him by threatening him with you? Pathetic little thing, they're as good as dirt now. You try to threaten him with running away or doing something to yourself? Your loss. He won't be pressured into anything by you. He doesn't show you anything about himself, he gives you no space to potentially hurt him.

F - Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He sees it as a joke. What does a little drugged up ragdoll like you want to do against him? Scream and cry and kick around yourself? How cute, now hold still for the syringe. Try to strangle him in his sleep? The joke is on you, he already is dead. Why don't you try to go to sleep for once? Maybe this little chokehold on your neck will help you.

G - Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

This is better than any joke he's been told so far. The way you try so desperately to find your way out, he even encourages you to try even harder. Your frightened expression is just so divine, he can't get enough of it. And the best thing is, he knows that you will never be able to get out of there alive. As if it weren't enough, he also gives you false hints. Or maybe they're truthful. You'll probably never know, as you get knocked out before you can try them properly.

H - Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Everything. Every second of you not obeying him equades to a month in the nine circles of hell. So just be nice and do as he says and you won't have to meet his devices from the middle ages.

I - Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He always wanted a housewife that cleans after him and cooks for him. An obedient little plaything to amuse himself with. No children. He is not fond of them, they are annoying at best.

J - Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Him and jealousy? Ha, never. He'd never get jealous. He just tracks down the people you frequently interact with to check if they pose any threat to your relationship. That girl you frequently go out with is just a normal friend and they are in a long-term relationship? Everyone can be a cheater. That dude you told him not to worry about? You definitely have something going on. And that is unacceptable. He doesn't show you his discontentment, not yet at least. But these others in your life, they will get to know it very well.

K - Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

It is weird to say, but he almost acts like a mixture of an older brother and boyfriend. He's always looking out for you, seeming oh so very sweet. He's not touchy, but he glares at anyone who tries to get physically close to you. He's always slightly behind you, making sure to avoid any possible danger he sees. But none of them come close to the danger the Undertaker himself poses to you. But shhh, you don't have to know about that.

L - Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

It would start off with normal dates. Going to a restaurant, going shopping, anything he knows you like. And he knows what you like, he has stalked watched you long enough to notice your likes and dislikes. During this time, he gets progressively more touchy the closer you get, until you let him into your home. He knew where you lived before you showed him and he was even in your building and rooms before you showed them to him, but he is good at pretending to see them for the first time. After this, he basically consideres himself welcome around your house 24/7.

M - Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Of course they are. Otherwise, the police would have showed up at his doorstep sooner than later. And they already know him well, a story he does not like to remember, it was tedious to get them out of his mortuary.

N - Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

His go-to is either drugging or medieval torture devices. You blabbered too much nonsense again? A few hours with the Scold's bridle will teach you right. Trying to physically overpower him will be punished by drugging. You are so much more lovely like this, all drugged up and dazed. His disciplining is usually more unpleasant than hindering. Never would he go so far as to break your legs or even chop them off, you need those little sticks after all.

O - Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Almost any he sees fit. Blabber too much and you lose your right of free speech (literally). The right of cencorship-free information? Surely not, the world outside is taboo for you. But don't worry, he won't take your right to go to the bathroom. He's not a monster after all.

P - Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

One month until he first tries to obduct you. Afterwards, he doesn't care to wait up for you. The longer you take, the less patient he is. So you better adjust to him quickly.

Q - Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

He could never. If you died, he would not wait long to bring you back as one of his living corpses. And if you, against all odds, manage to leave and escape his premises, he would go hunt after you right again. He makes sure you won't be able to catch a break, at least nowhere outside of his home.

R - Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No and no. Why should he feel sorry about something he wanted? If you can't adapt properly to him and your new life, it is purely your problem. And running away is no solution. Sorry, love.

S - Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

This man has been unalive for longer than he needed and has enough trauma for three whole families. So why shouldn't he share his psychological turmoil with you? Also, he is curious how well a human can take being treated like this.

T - Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He doesn't appear to feel anything, other than annoyance with a slight hint of amusement. If you isolate yourself, good. Better than crying and throwing a fit right infront of him. He really can't stand that, it reminds him of crying children who run after their mother after they were mean to her and she decided to leave them standing where they are. Screaming should only be done in isolation, otherwise you might hurt his eardrums. This man is already half blind, adding deafness to it is more than he'd like to have.

U - Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He doesn't admire you. He wants you to admire him.

V - Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Not a classical weakness, but useful none the less. His medicine/chemical cabinet has enough to kill a whole village, so if you start to be a bit more attentive during his work period, you might be able to learn a thing or two about some chemicals. He is most distracted during coffin nailing. If you use these facts wisely, you might make it out of there...

W - Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Of course he would. What would be a better way to discipline you? Most of the injuries aren't fatal of course, he needs you in a good working shape.

X - Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Him worshipping you? Dearie, you got something completely wrong. To him you are a puppet, a doll, a mere toy to play around with and throw aside as soon as he doesn't want you anymore. He knows that he doesn't need to win you over. He's way too irresistable for that (in his opinion).

Y - Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Upon first meeting you, about 4 months. Plus minus one, if you're particularly lucky/unlucky. He knows what he's doing after all, he doesn't need much planing.

Z- Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

In the end, all he wants is a perfect little doll that will keep him company for as long as he needs. And if he needs to break you for this goal, he will do so without hesitation. That way, you'll be stuck with him for the rest of your time, as long as your mortal coil exists. Forever.

______________________________________________________________

Did I promise something happy or fluffy? Oops. My bad. I'll maybe do a series out of this, depends on my mood and creativity. I can't tell you yet what my next post will be, because I have no clue what it will be.

(I'm too lazy to proof read this, as always.)

Until next time~

Your Inconsistent Kuroshitsuji Blog~

[askallianything]

((*Drops some Allilore like a crow bringing you shiney things*))

"Ms. Marianelli, you know why you've been brought here, correct?"

"Hm? Yeah. I'm super busted or something, right?"

"That's one way to word it, yes. Do you know why you're 'super busted' ?"

"Um.... is it because I lit the Glamoria dormitory on fire?"

"So you're admitting to it? Being the one behind the arson?"

"Yeah. It's not like I was trying to be sneaky about it."

"Why did you light the dormitory on fire?"

" 'Cus those duck-faced whores deserved it."

"What did they do?"

"What didn't they do?! They cut up all my clothes, gave me a dead girl's ID as a birthday gift, burnt my CD collection, and worst of all- they killed Jeremy!!"

"Jeremy?"

"My Mozambique spitting cobra!"

"I see. So they vandalized your property?"

"They did more than 'vandalize my property'! And every time I came to you big dicks in charge about it, you old fucks didn't do a thing!"

"So, you thought the best course of action was to.... set ablaze a dormitory belonging to over a hundred students due to the actions of one group?"

"Yes! And for the record, I don't feel bad about it at all. I know it was a messed up thing to do- but I don't regret it."

"I see..."

"So what now? You gonna expel me? Send me to Shadow Institution Jail? Shoot me in the back of the head like some sort of criminal who doesn't deserve a proper execution?"

"Nobody going to kill you, Ms. Marianelli. We want to offer you a deal."

"A deal? Ugh... and I thought the regular legal system was bad...."

"You understand anamalous animals like no other, Alora. But it's clear you don't get along well with humans or fellow ghou-"

"I do! It's other people who don't get along with me!"

"Right... ahem- As you know, we often send groups of students on missions together. So that they can watch out for each other and practice teamwork. However, we're willing to allow you to work alone. We'll give you anything you need for your research on anomalous animals if you agree to this... 'solitary education'."

"So you're bribing me to stay away from other people? And I get to spend all my time with animals? Sounds fun. What's the catch?"

"There is no 'catch', Ms. Marianelli. However, for the safety of others, we require you to stay somewhere off campus."

"Ahh there it is! You're treating me like I'm dangerous! Ahaha~!! Are you guys afraid of me? Hshshshsh!!"

"Ms. Marianelli-"

"I'm curious. Did I burn the bitch's face off?"

"Pardon?"

"Yasmine Aguirre. How bad are her injuries?"

"She's in critical condition. There's only a slim chance she'll make it."

"Hshshsh!! That's a shame, I was hoping she'd live to suffer those burns forever."

"... You're aware this is a person you're talking about, right? Someone's daughter."

"Mmh? Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Can I go now? I need to feed my snakes."

"Alora Marianelli, If you are not off campus within a week, you will be expelled and prosecuted for your crimes."

"Oooh I get it now!! You don't think I'll be able to find someplace to stay! Especially cus of my family sitch, right? You guys are showing me a lot of your true colors~ might as well take me out now. I know I won't live long after this."

"... Leave. Now."

"Hshshshsh!!! Alright, alright! Nice chat. Good chat. Productive chat~! See you when I see you, Mr. Aguirre~~"