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#FBI manipulation
alwaysbewoke · 1 month
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An FBI memo dated November 29, 1968 described a letter that the L.A FBI office intended to mail to the Black Panther Party office. The letter. was made to appear as if it had come from the Us Organization, describing fictitious plans by Us to ambush BPP. The FBI memo stated that "It is hoped this counterintelligence measure will result in an 'Us' and BPP vendetta." —At a Black Student Union meeting at UCLA's Campbell Hall on January 17, 1969, Bunchy and John, another BPP member, were heard making derogatory comments about Karenga, the founder of Organization Us. Other versions mention a heated argument between Organization Us members and Panther Elaine Brown. An altercation ensued during which Carter and Huggins were shot to death. BPP members originally insisted that the event was a planned assassination, claiming that there was a prior agreement that no guns would be brought to the meeting, that BPP members were not armed, and that Organization Us members were. Organization Us members maintained the meeting was a spontaneous event. Former BPP deputy minister of defense Geronimo Pratt, Carter’s head of security at the time, later stated that rather than a conspiracy, the UCLA incident was a spontaneous shootout. The person who allegedly shot Carter and Huggins, Claude Hubert, was never found. During the Church Committee hearings in 1975, evidence came to light that under the COINTELPRO actions, FBI agents had deliberately fanned flames of division and enmity between the BPP and Org US. Death threats and humiliating cartoons created by the FBI were sent to each group, made to look as if they originated with the other group, with the explicit intention of inciting deadly violence Following the UCLA incident, brothers George and Larry Stiner and Donald Hawkins turned themselves in to the police, who had issued warrants for their arrests. They were convicted for conspiracy to commit murder and two counts of second-degree murder, based on testimony given by BPP members. The Stiner brothers both received life sentences and Hawkins served time in California’s Youth Authority Detention.
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kil9 · 2 months
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fun and funnyyy side effect of autism is that sometimes when you fail the social check ppl just assume you want to kill people
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lasseling · 9 days
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FBI Records Reveal Fauci’s Agency Funded Gain-of-Function Research in Wuhan Lab That Would Leave No Trace of Human Manipulation
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forevercloudnine · 2 years
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Poison Ivy... she’ll eat you for breakfast.
Pamela Isley in “Pavane,” Secret Origins (1986) #36, written by Neil Gaiman and illustrated by Mark Buckingham.
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AW STOP FRANK'S SO CUTE
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dontstandmedown · 10 months
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Just started watching hannibal and i dont see what this guy is doing wrong. as far as i can tell he's just a gay man who loves to cook fancy meals for his friends
#Im enjoying it so far suprisingly! Im not big on crime shows usually bc all of the#A) intense copaganda#B) repetitive/boring narratives#C) graphic & often fetishistic depictions of violent crimes against women#And i mean hannibal does hit A and C-ish but the story is sooo so fascinating esp the dynamic btwn hannibal/will/abigail#They are sick and twisted#Will is interesting autistic rep as well im glad they leaned into the hyperempathy thing bc that shit SUCKS#and no one ever talks about it bc if you call yourself highly empathetic you sound like such an asshole.#but like it can genuinely be dangerous esp. for women bc it makes us more trusting & therefore more vulnerable to manipulation/abuse#I don't know how to judge the copaganda yet since ive only watched s1. So far its like.#The fbi is generally accepted as a force of good. criminals are all those regular people! And the fbi agents lock the bad guys up!#We'll add a throwaway line abt how law enforcement are among the most likely to be serial killers#And we'll have one of our FBI agents be framed for murder#but dont worry hes still one of the good guys. He works for the fbi how could he not be?!#Im oversimplifying things ofc. the characters are portrayed as flawed human beings and thus the bureau is shown to make mistakes#But as of right now the show had not explored the systemic issues w/ law enforcement#I hope this will change bc i think that would elevate the story so much#And from where I'm at in the story there's definitely a way for the story to move forward with this perspective (mostly with will's arc)#But this is american network television so. i have my doubts#Regardless it is super interesting to analyze this show (if you could not tell by my tag essay that barely scratches the surface)#lots to chew on for sure#<- im sorry i couldnt resist#hannibal
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jaideepkhanduja · 9 days
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Unveiling Hidden Dangers: FBI Emails Reveal Concerns Over U.S.-Funded Virus Experiments in Wuhan
Unveiling Hidden Dangers: FBI Emails Reveal Concerns Over U.S.-Funded Virus Experiments in Wuhan #COVID19Origins #GainOfFunction #WuhanLab #FauciFunding #FBIDocuments #VirusResearch #PandemicPrevention bioethics #LabLeakTheory #PublicHealthSafety
The recent revelation of emails and documents concerning U.S.-funded experiments on coronaviruses in China, particularly at the Wuhan Institute of Virology, has rekindled concerns and debates about the origins of the COVID-19 pandemic and the nature of scientific research involving dangerous pathogens. This disclosure, obtained through a Freedom of Information Act request by Judicial Watch,…
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madlovenovelist · 4 months
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Book Review – ‘Unbreakable’ (#2 Unraveling) by Elizabeth Norris
Teen detective travels multiverse to thwart rival Earth’s plans… Genre: YA, Science Fiction No. of pages: 496 Four months after Ben disappeared through the portal to his home universe, Janelle believes she’ll never see him again. Her world is still devastated, but life is finally starting to resume some kind of normalcy. Until Interverse Agent Taylor Barclay shows up. Somebody from an…
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theoutcastrogue · 2 years
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Copaganda does three main things.
First, it narrows our understanding of safety. Police get us to focus on crimes committed by the poorest, most vulnerable people in our society and not on bigger threats to our safety caused by people with wealth and power.
For example, wage theft by employers dwarfs all other property crime combined — from burglaries, to retail theft, to robberies — costing some $50 billion every year. Tax evasion steals about $1 trillion each year. There are hundreds of thousands of Clean Water Act violations each year, causing cancer, kidney failure, rotting teeth, and damage to the nervous system. Over 100,000 people in the United States die every year from air pollution, five times the number of all homicides.
But through the stories cops feed reporters, the public is encouraged to measure a city’s safety by whether it saw an annual increase or decrease of three homicides or fourteen robberies — rather than by how many people died from lack of access to health care, how many children suffered lead poisoning, how many families were rendered homeless by illegal eviction or foreclosure, or how many thousands of illegal assaults police committed.
The second function of copaganda is to manufacture crises or “crime surges.” For example, if you watch the news, you’ve probably been bombarded with stories about the rise of retail theft. Yet the actual data shows there has been no significant increase. Instead, corporate retailers, police, and PR firms fabricated talking points and fed them to the media. The same is true of what the FBI categorizes as “violent crime.” All told, major “index crimes” tracked by the FBI are at nearly forty-year lows.
The third and most pernicious function of copaganda is to manipulate our understanding of what solutions actually work to make us safer. A primary goal of copaganda is to convince the public to spend even more money on police and prisons. If safety is defined by street crime, and street crime is dangerously high, then funding the carceral state leaps out to many people as a natural solution.
The evidence shows otherwise.
— Alec Karakatsanis, “Police Departments Spend Vast Sums of Money Creating “Copaganda”” | Jacobin, July 2022
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willgrahamscock · 3 months
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I'm rewatching Hannibal(ofc). What do you think of Hannibal sending Will to Tobias' store to question him after Tobias stated that he would kill any FBI agents that came after him? He was visibly relieved when will showed up alive at his office and it's been bugging me.
Why do you think he sent him there in the first place?
I don't normally do serious metas, I'm more like the clown in the fandom but I will give you my serious perspective bc this is fun.
Hannibal is driven by his curiosity for what will happen, how people will react when he manipulates situations and people. He sent Will simply because he wanted to see what would happen. What he did not realize is how he would feel about that. When Tobias tells him that he killed two men, we see a change in him. He reacts, it's very subtle.
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A few moments later, Hannibal tells Franklyn to leave, he tries to protect him. But, I think as time passes the more it sinks in that one of the men could be Will and I believe he loses a bit of control and his patience. The rest of the time Franklyn is monologuing, Hannibal is in the background, blurred and the next pan to him is when Tobias corrects Franklyn that he's not alone. He's alone, without Will. Hannibal snaps Franklyn's neck. He's run out of patience, and he wants to kill Tobias so he gets Franklyn out of the way, and also to take the kill away from Tobias. Like he took Will away from him.
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Hannibal's relief when Will walks in is palpable, he lights up. This fool is in love, and he's not alone. Will came back to him, he survived Tobias, a predator just like himself. This was a test for Will, much like everything else he puts him through. Hannibal has built walls around himself but he craves a connection, sadly not many can survive that. Hannibal is relieved that Will survived Tobias, and by proxy survived Hannibal.
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noirsloth · 16 days
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Neil Josten does the most bizarre side quests ever.
Fly to other part of the country to cheat-chat with mafiosi Uncle? Why not
Demonise and manipulate FBI while eating a take out? Regular evening
Order a murder for another rapist, because fuck anyone who hurts Jean? FUCK YEAH
Share philosophy that he learned from his found family and boyfriend? Yes, pleaaase
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winkwonkwankwenk · 2 months
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Jealousy alastor headcanons?? Like what does it for him and how he acts? Please?
Jealous Alastor Head-cannons!!
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It doesn't take much to make him jealous, the fact that other men breathe the same air as you is enough to annoy him. He normally can keep himself calm, but if one moves an inch too close his voice will glitch and that's their warning.
"You're oddly cozy with them, Y/N." He'll sneer if you ever mention the person around him. He's not looking for validation, he knows you aren't interested in anyone else, he just wants to make it known he's aware of your little friend and they better stay as that and nothing more.
What are you doing with them? Where? Why? Can he tag along? If you say no, he'll just follow you from the shadows. Who's so important you're with them instead of him? He gets possessive, cling even.
Will leave doodles of whoever you're hanging out with dead out in the open when they're around, just to watch the panic on their face. "What? I was feeling creative."
P. E. T. T. Y. He'll do things just to get your attention like bump into you on "accident" or death glare at who you're talking to until they walk away. Don't even bother lecturing him about it, he'll just give you a satisfied smirk because at least you're only focused on him now.
If you're gone for too long you'll turn around to him looming over you. He'll have his arms crossed, eyes narrowed, and smile a bit too low. "How long are you going to be occupied?" He's asking to be polite, he's going to whisk you away from whatever (or whoever) you're distracted by.
Complains to Rosie about whoever has you distracted and also learns everything about them from her through gossip. He's better than an FBI agent, knowing them inside and out- he learned their allergies out of curiosity and definitely not to trigger them.
Did they just touch you? They'll wake up fingerless. He only keeps them alive because you're so fond of them. How annoying. He'll give them a few more chances before getting rid of them for good, but the moment he hears a single compliment that's a bit too passionate they've got to go.
Will casually gaslight you if you ask if he hurt them. "Darling, I'd never do anything to hurt you." He'll say while holding his bloody hands behind his back. It's not a lie, manipulation? Sure. It's for your own good. You're better off without them.
Hides their body under your floorboards so he can give it to you as a birthday gift. What's better than closure?
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Like my writing? Check out my Ao3!! Reblogs appreciated!! I have an ongoing Alastor x Reader fic right now that updates weekly!
Join my discord!!
Requests open!!
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zombieunicorngamerzu · 5 months
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(Aaron Hotchner and Emily Prentiss x New Youngest BAU agent fem reader)
[Warnings- Power Dynamics, Stalking, Dark themes, Case details, Slow burn? Drowning and being revived, hypothermia, shared bath with Aaron, Naive reader, Mommy and Daddy, PNV sex, innocent reader, smut, claiming, creampies spanking, praise, aftercare]
The day you joined the BAU, you thought everybody was very nice, the others were welcoming, but the two that stuck out the most to you were SSA Aaron Hotchner, who greeted you with a firm handshake and a hand on your back, his voice was deep, rough, and monotone, but you could tell in his eyes that he showed a little concern over you, probably because you were only nineteen, but you were a genius, like Spencer Reid you held a extremely high IQ, causing the FBI to recruit you after you hacked into their main systems on “accident”, Garcia was actually the one to catch you and then recommend you after you were caught to join the FBI.
Next was Emily Prentiss, she greeted you with a smile and a hug, she was so warm and friendly but she held more concern over you, a protectiveness and slight affection for you she showed well to others if they got too close to you. She saved you from many situations, either with people underestimating you when you joined a case or with unsubs who tried to prey on you for your, what she called, “naivety.” Emily always claimed you showed too much compassion to unsubs when interrogating or provoking.
That’s what you were good at, you surprised the team with your abilities to get into the minds of unsubs, your ability to predict their behavior or intentions even surpassed Spencer, which shocked the entire team. You, this little ball of smiles and shyness turned into a calculating manipulator as soon as you hit the interrogation room. You were unmatched and always used tactics of bonding with the unsubs, empathizing with them before using tactics of, “I would do the same if I were in your position,” or “That must have been so hard for you, I can’t even imagine being alone like that and suffering, how do you do it?”
You would play unsubs like a violin with your “caring” displays, you showed them more respect and empathy than anyone in their lives did, practically lovebombing them with care and concern while playing dumb the whole time. You were actually the smartest on the team which gained you respect a lot. The only issues you had were… well you, your clumsiness, your inability to be aware of your surroundings, how easily you would get distracted, you constantly worried both Emily, Hotch, and the others, they constantly wondered how the hell you were still alive.
Both Emily, Hotch, and JJ were your main supervisors on missions, having to literally be attached to your hip to make sure you didn’t get ambushed or injured simply because you just couldn’t be aware of your surroundings. Even outside of work both Emily and Hotch have had to “watch over you” to make sure you were safe, you couldn’t drive surprisingly, which both of them didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing, but you took the subway to and from work everyday, Emily and Hotch took turns, “subtly” making sure to take the train every morning and late night just to make sure you got home safe or they would just offer to drive you, which is what you usually did after a few months of working with them.
But months into the job, after a particularly hard mission that took you all to Alaska, Emily and Hotch freaked, like growing totally overbearing and overprotective, not leaving your side. That mission was a nightmare. You couldn’t stand the cold, so literally once you got there you just couldn’t function, Emily was the first to notice how you grew quiet, practically mute, shivering violently even in the three layers and coat she dressed you in. She tried to help by rubbing your shoulders and keeping you close to her and Hotch, but nothing worked.
The team had never seen you so quiet, you just were not built for this case, or the cold weather. Even when you had to share rooms at the small inn you didn't react, too busy shivering due to the cold, you didn't care or comprehend the fact that Emily had been holding you the whole time, or the fact that when you were burying your face into her shoulder Emily smiled. You were led up to a small room in the inn with, wow... only one bed and a small couch. You immediately said you could take the couch but were cut off by both Emily and Aaron who you were bunking with that it would be warmer if you shared the bed together.
So that's where you ended up for the night, sandwiched between the two older agents until early dawn when you had to get up and get dressed to head into the cold again to another crime scene due to the killer striking again in the night. You were again, quiet, grumpy, and miserable, and it didn't help that the crime scene was on the docs near the icy dark depths of water. You were petrified of bodies of water, and you never knew why, you just stayed away from water all you could, plus you couldn't swim. Emily was the first to notice you staring at the water with an almost fearful expression, walking over to you to nudge you gently, "Hey, you okay?"
You snapped your head up quickly at the nudge, nodding as you crossed your arms, "Yeah, just cold." She just raised her brows at you. "Really? Because you're staring at the water like it did something to you." You just sighed, looking up at her hesitantly, "I just- I don't like water." She frowned a little in confusion, "Why?" The way Emily was staring at you with her head tilted made you fluster, it was embarrassing to you, so you just lowered your head with a sigh, seeing the cold mist that your breath gave as you shuttered, "I-I can't swim."
Emily's eyes widened at your words, now she felt paranoid about you even being on the doc, her hand gently wrapping around your arm to pull you a little further away from the edge as she spoke, "Then how about we keep you away from these ledges, yeah?" You just blushed at the way she tried to protect you from the possibility of slipping, she watched you much closer now until you got off the docks, everybody heading back to the inn for the day. When you got back you decided to try to hang around down in the common area, watching out the windows with some hot chocolate before something caught your eye.
You immediately dropped your mug down on the table with a yell to the others as you saw a hooded figure dragging what you assumed to be a victim down to the docs, running out the door, and drawing your gun as you chased after them. You could hear commotion and yelling behind you, so you knew the others were coming, that made you feel slightly better as you ran out on the docs, it was dark and hard to see, your breathes heavy as you looked around for the unsub before you felt a shove against your back, slipping before your entire body went into shock at the feeling of water, cold water surrounding you.
Emily, Derek, and Aaron were the first ones out of the inn and the first to see the unsub shove you into the water, Emily practically screamed when she saw you slip and fall in, her voice booming out to Aaron as he barked at Derek to go after the unsub, JJ already on him, "Aaron, she cant swim!" Aarons eyes widened at Emily's words before he was running over to the doc with Emily calling out for him, but he didn't stop, he jumped in straight after you.
You didn't know what to do, flailing in complete shock with a scream of terror for help. You were petrified at the water swallowing you up, the temperature shocked your body to the point you couldn't feel it, all you remembered was going under and then darkness, piercing cold, heaviness, your lungs on fire, quickly growing tired due to fighting the water and not knowing which way was up, eventually you just gave up, letting the darkness swallow you up. You didn't remember much during that time, you didn't know how long you were under, a minute? Two? More? All you knew was that you felt a strong frame pulling your body against theirs before you were hauled up.
Emily stood above, immediately crouching down as Aaron came back up, shivering and panting with his hair wet as he held you up for Emily to take, "Take her, Take her!" he yelled out as her hands went down to grab you, pulling your limp body out of the water with a grunt onto the doc as Aaron pulled himself out, he straddled you without hesitation to check your pulse, "Shit, she's not breathing, her pulse is too weak." Emily sat down on her knees quickly, brushing your hair out of your face, tapping your cheeks, "Come on, pretty girl, don't do this to us!" Aaron just grunted and began chest compressions, alternating between compressions and breathing air into your lungs, he was terrified he'd lose you.
You couldn't move, that's all you knew, you barely even registered someone doing compressions on you, voices were muffled but there was yelling and then someone's lips against yours forcing air down your throat until you felt like you were choking, it took a whole 45 seconds to revive you from your unconscious state, one last breathe of air into you until you were keeling over with a lurch straight into Emily's arms, coughing up copious amounts of water from your lungs as she slapped at your back, her voice shaky, "Good girl, baby, cough it out, get it all out." She just breathed out in relief, giving Aaron a look as he sat up on his knees, closing his eyes with relief before getting up.
"We gotta get her warm." Aaron husked out quickly as he picked you up, you didn't have much fight left in you anyway to refuse as he carried you back to the inn and up to the room with Emily in tow. Emily immediately got to drawing a bath for you as Aaron sat you on the toilet lid with you shivering violently, his hands peeling off his own shirt while trying to keep you sat up and conscious before Emily helped him undress you, her voice soft as she spoke, "You both need to get warm, you can't stay in those clothes."
She took a breath at the sight of Aarons abs and your smaller frame, biting her lip as she knelt down to speak to you, "Hey, Y/N, if you can hear me, you and Aaron are gonna sit in that tub together, you have to get warm." She tried to warn you even though you were practically unresponsive, just giving weak whimpers back, before she helped Aaron pick you up and place you in the warm water. You were still shivering violently when Aaron sunk in behind you while Emily sat to the side, watching with concern as she looked at Aaron, "What was she thinking, going after the unsub like that? Especially to the docs- I just-"
"Emily, we cant control that now, all we can do is take care of her now and reprimand her when shes in better health." Aaron spoke out in a gravelly tone as he brushed your hair out of your face, as shameful as Aaron felt, to have your naked body so close and pressed up to his, it made him hard. He tried to shift his body to be respectful, but you were basically on his lap, he just bit his lip with a soft groan, closing his eyes as he pushed his cock between your inner thighs to rest there. Emily's pupils dilated as she watched, blushing as she shifted in her spot, "God, Aaron... I want her just as bad as you do."
Aaron just chuckled with a shake of his head as he tightened his hold on you, "I don't know about that, you can't feel how soft her skin is right now, Em." He husked out which only made Emily tilt her head at him with a small smirk, "Yeah? Well let's get our baby feeling better and hopefully, we'll both be able to feel her." She purred out. Aaron just nodded with a low groan, his eyes closing. You probably laid against Aaron in the bath for over an hour, at least until it got a bit cold until you were lifted up and wrapped in a fluffy robe before taken to bed and covered in at least three blankets with both Emily and Aaron holding you between them.
When morning came, you slowly woke to the sounds of breathy feminine moans and soft grunts, frowning as you squirmed at the feeling of the bed bouncing before rolling onto your side into Aaron, he felt so warm before you noticed his heavy breathes alongside Emily's, finally registering why the bed stopped moving once you opened your eyes. Emily was straddled on Aarons cock with her hands on his chest, she was riding him with you laid right next to them. They both were still, you were shocked until Emily spoke, "Hey baby, were sorry... we couldn't help it, we just-" Aaron cut her off by pulling you closer and meeting your lips in a hot kiss, mumbling out against your lips, "You scared us last night, babygirl... we thought we lost you. Never scare us like that again." He spoke out firmly, cupping your chin.
You just stared at them both, wide-eyed and with a blush, you didn't know what do to, its true you had developed a crush on the both of them, but you thought that just because they were the first male and female superiors you had, your mommy and daddy issues acting up, but no. Here you were laying beside them as they fucked. Emily just tucked your hair away before leaning down to kiss your forehead, "Shh baby, let Mommy and Daddy have our fun and then well tend to you." She husked out before moaning as she raised herself up on Aarons cock before sinking back down and building her pace again as she panted out, "You just watch baby."
You let out a soft whimper as you watched Emily ride Hotch, she was passionate, her hips rolling with every thrust of her hips down, Hotchs hands sliding up her waist before he gripped and thrust up to meet her, making them both moan as they joined together, Emily's tits bouncing as she only rode him harder and faster the closer they got to cumming together. Emily was experienced in her own pleasure, rubbing her clit as she sank up and down on Hotchs cock, her moans getting huskier as she closed her eyes before you saw hoe Hotch slid his hands to grip at her ass as a vice to thrust his hips up quicker, seeing how his cock would stretch her and disappear inside her with each slam of his hips up made you squirm, you were soaking wet seeing how they fucked, especially hearing Emily moan as she came.
Emily cried out as she came around Hotchs cock, causing him to groan out at the feeling as he came inside her, you watched as Emily lurched and trembled, her thighs shaking as her hips twitched, her cunt gripping around Hotchs cock tighter and tighter, spilling cum down his shaft before she slowly raised up and off his cock, his cum spilling out of her as she crawled onto you, untying your robe with a tender kiss to your lips, "Is this okay baby, are you okay with this?" Emily needed to make sure you were alright before she continued, but she was answered by a timid nod from you, making her smile, "Good girl." She hummed out before kissing you again, darting her tongue into your mouth as she slid her hand down between your thighs to feel your wetness, moaning when she did.
"Oh, Aaron, she's so wet for us... did watching us make you that excited baby?" she purred out with a devious smirk as she nudged her nose against yours and found your clit with her fingertips, rubbing little circles immediately, which made you moan out and arch, closing your eyes at the warm buildup of pleasure her fingers blessed you with before they were joined by another larger pare that prodded at your entrance, whining when you felt Aaron slip a finger inside your tight wetness while he leaned over to press his lips against your nipple to suck. The stimulation of Emily's fingers rubbing circles on your clit to Aaron pumping and curling his finger inside you to his lips wrapped around your nipple, it was enough to quickly make you cum in minutes.
Luckily, minutes were all Hotch needed to get hard again, I mean it wasn't difficult due to how adorable you sounded as you came. He was a sucker for you, secretly, he loved how small you were compared to him. Emily pulled away slightly to let Aaron sit up between your thighs, but what surprised you most was when he flipped you, forcing you onto your tummy in a arch as Emily settled in front of you, her legs spread as she guided you to her soaked cunt, her voice gentle but filled with lust, "Now baby, your gonna take Daddy's cock while you eat Mommy out, okay?" You just nodded with a blush, always so eager to please before your face was shoved into her pussy by Aarons hand on the back of your head.
You let out a cry when you felt Aarons cock push into you from behind, feeling the slow stretch of your wet little pussy stretching around his girthy cock made you tremble from the feeling, moaning into Emily's pussy which made her shiver from the stimulation on her clit before you felt Aaron start to thrust into you at a punishing pace, his cock rockhard as you felt him graze against your gspot with each thrust, your eyes rolling in pleasure with a groan into Emily's pussy as you tried to lap at her clit, but it was so hard with how good Aaron felt, his words making your pussy flutter around his cock, "Mmm... that's it, baby, take my cock. You were made for it, weren't you? Such a good girl."
"Yes, she is! Fuck- such a pretty mouth on her, eating mommy out like a good girl... yes baby, suck, suck for mommy!" Emily moaned out with her hand in your hair as she shoved your face harder against her cunt, feeling her orgasm close, crying out as she felt your lips wrap around her clit to suck, making her cum quick and hard, her grip tight on your hair as Aaron sped up his thrusts, making you whine. You felt his pace, rough and fast, his hips snapping against your ass with a slap to your ass as he praised you, sinking his cock deeper into you with every thrust, your ass so soft against his pelvis as he slammed into you with a groan, holding your hips tight as he emptied his seed into you, sending you spiraling into your own orgasm, trembling violently with a loud cry between the two of them as you clamped down on his cock.
"Oh fuck..." Aaron just groaned as he slowly pulled out of you, seeing his cum-covered cock twitching still as he finally slipped out of you, seeing his cum ooze out of your used little hole made him moan. You couldn't help the whimper that left your lips at the emptiness, but you were quickly pulled up into Emily's arms as she laid your head on her chest, kissing your head. "You did so well baby." Aaron nodded and kissed your back before laying down next to you two, speaking lowly, "You did love, so please, no more diving into cold waters... never scare us like that again, we couldn't stand losing you, Y/N..." You just nodded quietly, still recovering from the fear of the night before as you spoke, "I promise." That was all they needed to hear before you were snuggled back under the blankets by the two of them and attacked with many kisses.
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financeprincess · 2 years
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Gaining & Maintaining Power: A Reading List
Power & Manipulation
48 Laws of Power by Robert Green
The Prince by Machiavelli
Games People Play: The Basic Handbook of Transactional Analysis by Eric Berne
The Dictator's Handbook: Why Bad Behavior is Almost Always Good Politics by Bruce Bueno de Mesquita
Power: Why Some People Have It - And Others Don't by Jeffrey Pfeffer
The Wisdom of Psychopaths: What Saints, Spies, and Serial Killers Can Teach Us About Success by Kevin Dutton
Charisma & Social Skills
How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie
Crucial Conversations: Tools for Talking When Stakes Are High by Kerry Patterson
How to Talk to Anyone: 92 Little Tricks for Big Success in Relationships by Leil Lowndes
The Charisma Myth: How Anyone Can Master the Art and Science of Personal Magnetism by Olivia Fox Cabane
Captivate: The Science of Succeeding with People by Vanessa Van Edwards
Never Eat Alone, And the Other Secrets to Success, One Relationship at a Time by Keith Ferrazzi
The Like Switch: An Ex-FBI Agent's Guide to Influencing, Attracting, and Winning People Over by Jack Schafer
Persuasion
The Art of Seduction by Robert Green
Influence: The Psychology of Persuasion by Robert Cialdini
Win Bigly: Persuasion in a World Where Facts Don't Matter by Scott Adams
Pre-Suasion: Channeling Attention for Change by Robert Cialdini
Win Your Case: How to Present, Persuade, and Prevail, Every Place, Every Time by Gerry Spence
Nudge: Improving Decisions About Health, Wealth, and Happiness by Richard Thaler
Methods of Persuasion: How to Use Psychology to Influence Human Behavior by Nick Kolenda
You Can Read Anyone: Never Be Fooled, Lied to, or Taken Advantage of Again by David Lieberman
Influencer: The New Science of Leading Change by Kerry Patterson
Psychology
Thinking, Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman
The Art of Choosing by Sheena Iyengar
Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us by Daniel Pink
Predictably Irrational: The Hidden Forces That Shape Our Decisions by Dan Ariely
Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman
The Laws of Human Nature by Robert Green
Philosophy and Mindset
Meditations by Marcus Aurelius
Letters from a Stoic by Seneca
Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl
Mastery by Robert Green
The Law of Success by Napoleon Hill
Antifragile: Things That Gain from Disorder by Nassim Taleb
The Daily Stoic by Ryan Holiday
Ikigai: The Japanese Secret to a Long and Happy Life by Hector Garcia
Public Speaking, Rhetoric, and Debating
Rhetoric by Aristotle
How to Argue & Win Every Time by Gerry Spence
The Quick and Easy Way to Effective Speaking by Dale Carnegie
The Art of Public Speaking by Dale Carnegie
Talk Like TED: The 9 Public Speaking Secrets of the World's Top Minds by Carmine Gallo
Verbal Judo: The Gentle Art of Persuasion by George Thompson, PhD
Thank You for Arguing by Jay Heinrichs
p.s. a lot of these can be found on z-library.
xoxo ❤️
10K notes · View notes
dilf-lover99 · 2 years
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6:52 | B.L. / S.M.
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Pairings: Billy Loomis x Female Reader, Stu Macher x Female Reader
Summary: Reader is the daughter of an FBI profiler and childhood best friends with Billy and Stu. When a killer starts terrorizing her friends she has to choose between following her head or her heart.
Warnings: death, blood, stabbing, violence, swearing, manipulation, kissing, major character death (deviation from cannon), mommy issues, reader is smart but a little naive, ending is open to interpretation
Word Count: 7.9k
a/n: happy halloween !! i know it's been a while but hopefully this long ass story makes up for it. please don't cancel me for this, i'm not immune to the charm of a 25 year old slasher film. let me know what you think !
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Six minutes and fifty-two seconds.
According to some remarkably arbitrary article you skimmed through in a mediocre issue of Teen Beat, it takes the average person six minutes and fifty-two seconds to determine which movie they’re going to watch.
In six minutes and fifty-two seconds you can brew half a pot of particularly unpalatable coffee in your kitchen. You can listen to your favourite Jeff Buckley song with eight seconds to spare, or drain a teeming glass of water.
Six minutes and fifty-two seconds is also the precise duration of time in which you’ve managed to evade the knife-wielding psychopath who’s killing your friends for sport.
Six minutes and fifty-two seconds.
Now here you stand in Stu Macher’s kitchen, explicitly parallel to the masked executioner, dread trickling deliberately throughout your body, dancing delicately up the incurvation of your spine.
Panic and confusion mingle together earnestly inside as you notice the killer stop before you, scarcely within arm’s reach. He tilts his disguised head at you slowly, almost as though he’s confounded that an armed maniac has been chasing you around the Macher house for the last few minutes.
“Hey...” He murmurs with a strangely familiar resonance, “I’m not gonna hurt ‘ya, Doll.”
Your expeditious breathing slows to a halt. Your face, previously adorned in confusion, is now painted with discouragement as you place who the voice belongs to.
No, you didn’t want to be right. Not this time.
A second unmasked figure appears behind him, holding a horrified and misty-eyed Sydney Prescott in his gangly arms.
“Well,” he draws out with a blinding smile, voice dripping with lunacy, “How do ya like our big reveal, Sunshine?”
Six minutes and fifty-two seconds, you think to yourself indignantly, what a fucking joke.
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You were decidedly not a morning person.
This is your first thought, a routinely reoccurring thought at that, as you move to swiftly silence the shrill reverberations of your alarm clock. There’s a distinct lack of routine to your mornings, though you consider it a win in itself being awake before school starts.
You gradually make your way downstairs, adorning an oversized Fresh Prince of Bel-Air t-shirt and the first clean pair of jeans you see, offhandedly reminding yourself to do your laundry.
The house is forebodingly silent, you should’ve long since become accustomed to that. Still you can’t help the acrimonious look you aim toward the note sitting on your kitchen counter, rereading it for the umpteenth time before grabbing yourself some breakfast.
Had to leave town for a case, left you some money for food. Call you when I can - Love Dad
At least he left a note this time you think to yourself despondently. 
You don’t blame him for not sticking around, god knows your mom couldn’t either. But at least when she left it was for good. She didn’t resurface every few weeks and pretend to know what was going on in your life, vowing to be more present if given the chance, only to leave the next time a murder happened in some backwater town five thousand miles away from the daughter she swore to stick around for. No, that was all your dad.
You used to admire him, ironically enough. Solving murders and catching the bad guys, he used to be your hero. You and your mom used to allocate hours each day waiting zealously by the phone to hear of his adventures. In the course of time your mom got tired of waiting for your dad to call, eventually she just got tired of him in general. She got tired of you in general.
You never faulted your dad for her desertion, how could you? She left him too. Though you did follow her lead in straying from your perch aside the phone. These days it never rang anyhow.
The sharp honking of a car horn redirects your attention from your melancholic reverie, you grab your bag and set the home alarm before locking the door behind you, grateful for the excuse to be anywhere but your empty house.
“Well don’t you look like a ray of sunshine this morning?” Stu’s voice sounds from the passenger seat of Billy’s car as you smoothly slide into the back.
“What’s ‘a matter? You’re not all freaked about the killer are you?” He questions, turning his lanky body around in the seat so that he’s facing you, his wide dopey grin now on full display.
Right, the killer.
It’s the only story currently circulating on the Woodsboro news, plastered on the cover of every tabloid, not to mention it’s virtually the only thing your friends seem to talk about since it happened.
Casey Becker and her boyfriend Steve Orth were brutally murdered, their remains remorselessly strung up like Christmas ornaments. It should have made you sick to your stomach. But after all the gory photos you’d seen hanging on the cork board in your dad’s office, you couldn’t help the twisted tinge of curiosity that swirled about in your brain. Who did this? Your FBI profiler dad, who specializes in capturing people that commit violent crimes, sure picked a great time to be out of state for work.
“No, but I’m super glad that you always find a way to bring it up. Very well adjusted of you.” You retort with a gentle smile, as you buckle your seatbelt, instantly feeling better at the mere sight of your two best friends.
“Ah, come on. You know we’d never let anything happen t’you. Right, Billy?” He nudges his elbow at Billy, awaiting his agreeance.
“Course not.” Billy states, his voice is gentle but his tone is stern, and you don’t miss the indicative look he flashes Stu. What’s all that about?
“O..kay then.” You make it a point to remember that look. It’s peculiarly akin to the look he gave Stu at the fountain the other morning.
“I didn’t kill anybody” Stu abruptly defended.
“No one’s saying you did.” Billy shot Stu an ominous look of warning. 
What the hell are those two idiots hiding? 
“My knights in shining armour, truly. However could I repay you?” You deadpan sarcastically, coming to the conclusion that there is definitely something going on. You’re always right about these things. Whatever it is, you’re going to figure it out eventually.
You’ve known Billy and Stu since elementary school, they can’t hide things from you. At least Stu can’t. His facade will shatter like glass if you look up at him with big eyes and an amiable smile. Billy on the other hand, had spent copious amounts of time with you sifting through your father’s research when you were kids, which gave him the invaluable knowledge of how to get away with lying. That and his prodigious poker face.
“Well- And I’m so glad you asked, there’s actually a super easy way to do that. Wouldn’t take too long either-” You don’t even need to look at Stu to know this is another one of his empty-headed innuendos for sex.
“Wouldn’t take too long is right. At least that’s what Tate told me. You might wanna work on that.” You tease, gently squeezing his arm in mock sympathy.
Billy lets out a modest chuckle of approval at your childish rebuttal, sending you a wink in the rear-view mirror when he catches your smile growing at the sound.
You try to ignore the hastening uptick of your pulse at the simple action. He has a girlfriend, you remind yourself remorsefully, he’s your best friend and that’s all.
“Oh really? Guess we’ll just have to wait and see about that, won’t we?” Stu’s resplendent crystal eyes hold an edge of irritation, but before you can discern the connotation of it, they’re overtaken by the playful mischief you’re certain is a permanent fixture in them.
“Speaking of this whole killer business,” You swiftly steer the subject back, aware of your best friends’ infatuation with the topic, “How’s Sid holding up?”
Of all your friends, the killings had the strongest emotional impact on Sidney. When taken into account that the same thing happened to her mom almost exactly a year ago, it’s something of a wonder that she’s showing up to school at all.
Though Cotton Weary was tried and convicted for the murder of Sidney’s mother, you and your dad always shared a covert belief that somebody else was to blame. When you combed through the evidence, albeit evidence you weren’t legally allowed to see, something felt off about it all. Your dad agreed, stating as much to the local police who were less than receptive of his findings. In essence, they told him to fuck off, that they’d closed the case without the help of the FBI.
You never wavered on your belief that the true perpetrator escaped undetected, and now with the same m.o. being used to kill Casey and Steve, you’re adamant that these cases are connected. Of course you’ve kept this ideology to yourself, not wishing to dredge up any more pain for Sid, the poor girl’s already been through more than her fair share of it.
“More frigid than usual I bet. If that’s even possible.” Stu jokes incautiously.
Billy swats Stu firmly in the chest, glancing at you in the mirror again as Stu lets out a minor yelp, “She’s not so good. I tried to make her feel better, but you know how I am with that sort of stuff” he says unhurriedly.
Unfortunately I do, you think to yourself. Of all the things you love about Billy, patience and understanding are not exactly the top contenders. You imagine his version of consoling Sid ended with her feeling worse.
“At least you tried. That counts for something.” You add optimistically, already preparing to check in with Sid the first chance you get.
“I’m not sure it does,” His eyes are surveying your every feature through the rearview mirror and you’re becoming acutely aware that he’s barely spared a glance at the road since he started driving, you being the sole focus of his attention, “Not with her anyway,” He mumbles out the last part but you manage to piece it together inquisitively.
If you were thinking with your emotions instead of your intellect, you’d have picked up on the nuance of his words and the uncharacteristic benevolence of his gaze. You’d have pieced together sooner that you actually had a chance with Billy Loomis.
The trajectory of your life, the lives of your friends, could have been exponentially juxtaposed if you had only continued to prioritize your mind above your heart.
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“Fuck!” Oh god, oh god, oh fuck! Not the most eloquent thoughts in the world, but they’re about all you’ve got since you caught sight of the menacing masked figure jumping onto Sidney, armed with a particularly sharp-edged blade.
You’re vehemently regretting tagging along to what was initially intended to be a girls night with Tatum and Sid. 
“Safety in numbers,” Tatum smiled impishly, tugging on your arm in that way she does when she wants something bad enough, “Besides, your dad’s gone too! You and Sid would be much safer at my place.” She brought up a valid point. Although you weren’t as unnerved as your friends at the prospect of being murdered, your strong distaste for spending another night alone in your house was enough for you to give in to your friend’s wishes.
“Alright. I’ll come. But no cheesy rom-coms, we’re watching Seven.” You conceded sooner than Tatum expected. She had a whole speech about the sanctity of friendship planned, but she intended to save it for another time.
“You’ll have to convince Sid. You know how she feels about horror movies.”
“I also know how she feels about Brad Pitt,” You teased with a grin, earning an emphatic giggle from Tatum, “Besides, it’s a thriller not a horror. Randy would die just to roll over in his grave if he heard you right now.”
The plan was to go back to your houses separately and grab your things, Tatum would pick you each up on her way home from practice. The plan changed after you observed Sidney throughout the day. You could tell she was jittery and nervous, despite her fruitless attempts at covering it up, so you went straight to her house together after school. 
The two of you briskly passed out on opposite ends of the couch, only awoken by the piercing ring of Sid’s telephone. “Tate’s gonna be a while, she got held up at practice.” Sid relayed the message to you, gingerly rubbing the evidence of sleep from her eyes.
You nodded in understanding, moving from your previous position on the couch and deftly stretching the tender muscles in your back.
“I’m gonna grab a glass of water. You want anything?” You asked Sid as the phone resumed ringing, she shook her head no with a comfortable smile and answered the call as you walked toward the kitchen and out of ear shot.
You moved around the kitchen with an air of familiarity, taking your time filling the glass. Your walk back to Sidney turned into a swift jog, confusion and mild alarm made their presence known on your face as you heard her yell “Fuck you, cretin!” into the phone with conviction.
“Sid- Hey, what’s going on?” You moved to comfort her frenzied form, taking over for her shaking hands you swiftly locked the chain on her front door.
“The killer- He… Oh my god!” Her frenetic speech died a merciless death on her lips as she heard the door of her hall closet swing open. Before either of you could register what was happening, the killer was on top of her.
“Fuck!” Sid yelps, flailing wildly in a desperate attempt to escape from the masked lunatic’s grip.
You froze for a moment back there, you aren’t proud of it. All the self-defence lessons and step-by-step protocols for how to survive in a dangerous situation seemed to have vanished from your mind. But now you can hear his voice in your head, stern but compassionately reassuring like it always was, “C’mon (y/n), this is life or death. As much as I wish I could, I can’t always be here with a gun and a vest to protect you. So come on, how are you gonna fight back?” You used to hate it when he did that. Why should a girl your age worry about those things?
Thanks Dad, you silently praise, guess you make the time we spend together count.
You snap out of it instantaneously, bringing down your half-empty glass of water over the killer’s head with considerable force, shattering it to pieces and stunning him long enough for you to send a brutal kick to his side, temporarily removing his looming figure from atop Sidney. You suppress a wince as you notice one particularly long shard of glass has embedded itself deeply into your palm, blood trickling evenly from the gash as you gingerly remove it.
You waste no time grabbing Sidney from the floor, pulling her along with haste as you reach the staircase and begin your ascent. “Wait- The front door is-” She starts before you cut her off, “It’s locked Sid. We don’t have time, he’s right behind us.” She turns to gage the distance and her eyes widen substantially as she sees just how correct you are. He’s right there.
In a matter of nanoseconds the killer grabs ahold of Sidney’s foot, giving it a solid tug. Her hand slips from yours as he drags her down the steps.
“Anything can be used as a weapon, especially when you combine it with the element of surprise.” Your dad’s voice rings through your ears once more as you stormily grab hold of a bulky framed painting from the wall and smash it down onto the killer’s head. He groans and trips back a half-step, just enough distance for you to pull Sidney back up, taking care to hold on extra tightly as you resume your course to her bedroom.
Hightailing it to her room, the two of you close the door behind you, Sidney rushing to alert the police as you make a half-assed attempt to barricade the door shut, working at warp-speed.
The door jolts violently behind you as the killer manages to squeeze his arm through, prompting Sid to bellow out a short scream of terror. You push back on the door with all your body weight, a triumphant smile fighting its way to the surface as you hear the vociferous groan of pain emitting from your pursuer. He pulls his arm back with haste, allowing the door to shut fully behind you.
It’s agonizingly silent. What’s he going to do now? He’s much stronger than you or Sidney, surely he could break down the door. Or stab it with his knife, stab you with his knife. You’re eagerly awaiting his next move. Sid, on the other hand, needs this to be the end of it. She manages to contact the police through her computer, and you can’t deny the pride you feel for her, carrying on despite the clearcut terror she’s just experienced.
You both turn toward the window on high alert, a noise informing you that you’re not alone. You grab the first thing within your reach, Sidney’s hairbrush, and hurl it with impressive force at the figure entering her bedroom. 
“Ow! Jesus (y/n)! What the hell’s goin’ on? I heard Sid screaming. The door was locked. Are you guys okay?” Billy questions, pulling himself through the window once he recovers from the hairbrush hit to his temple.
I heard Sid screaming.
How did he know it was Sid who screamed? And what exactly was he doing here anyway? 
No, you cut yourself off, there’s no way! It’s Billy, he wouldn’t…
Would he?
When you and your dad made the profile for Maureen’s killer, you determined that it had to be a young adult male between the ages of 16 to 24. You also theorized that he had to know Maureen, the level of rage present in her killing was too personal for a stranger to carry out. Your dad threw around the idea that maybe there were two killers, one with a hunger to be in control, the other just along for the thrill of the hunt. 
You remember the day you brought the profile up to Billy and Stu.
The three of you were watching some cheesy 80s slasher in Stu’s spacious living room, Stu’s arm around your waist as your head gently laid on Billy’s shoulder.
“My dad agrees with me you know?” You start, voice overtaking the synthetic screams of whichever big-breasted actress was getting slaughtered on screen, “That it wasn’t Cotton Weary. He actually thinks there were two of ‘em.” Billy and Stu both tense up, causing you to observe them from the corner of your eye.
There was a brief look of alarm on Stu’s face causing your eyebrows to furrow together in confusion. Perhaps you should have kept your reaction subdued, as Billy picked up on it instantaneously. He delicately grabbed ahold of your chin, the pads of his fingertips setting your skin ablaze beneath them, turning your face to his he muttered coldly, “Since when do you care what that asshole thinks?” 
Your gaze dropped from his, a frown taking over your lips. He’s right, in a way, but he doesn’t have to say it like that.
“Hey, come on Sunshine, turn that frown upside down, huh?” Stu was his usual sanguine self again in the blink of an eye, that beautiful broad grin already back in its rightful place on his lips, “Who needs him anyway? You got us.”
“Yeah,” You smiled back despite yourself, “Guess that makes me pretty lucky.”
For someone who loves talking about murder so much, he always manages to brazenly shut it down whenever you bring up the profile. The profile that he fits.
How did you never see it before?
“Sid,” You start slowly, taking a gentle step toward the girl who’s wrapped in her boyfriend’s embrace. You’re attempting this with the utmost care so as not to alarm Billy, in case he’s hiding the familiar blade on his person, “This cut on my hand is pretty deep,” It’s true, though you couldn’t care less about it, “Can you come help me with it, please.”
Shit.
Your voice broke on the last syllable and you’re definitive that he noticed.
Billy turns to you with a look of confusion, it’s almost as though he can read your mind. “Your hand?” He questions, not releasing Sid from his grip, “What happened to your hand?” He seems genuinely concerned and you’re beginning to doubt your own instincts. Until Sid pulls away from his grip, a soft thump resounding as something falls from Billy’s pocket.
A mobile phone. 
The kind of mobile phone a killer would have if he had just made a menacing, life-threatening phone call to his girlfriend.
Why did you have to be right?
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Six minutes and fifty-two seconds. You don’t time it, but that’s how long it takes for you to change into your pyjamas, or in this case one of Dewey’s old t-shirts that less than flatteringly falls below your knees in an Ebenezer Scrooge sort of way, and get situated beside Tatum in one of her twin beds.
Despite the cataclysmic series of events you’ve just been through, you manage a loose smile as you watch Sidney ice her hand after landing a particularly impressive punch on Gale Weathers’ face. 
“The pain’s gonna fade in the morning but the pride’ll last. At least mine will, you’re kinda badass, Prescott.” You jest, attempting to quell the foreboding thoughts you’re sure are threatening to chew her up and swallow her whole.
“Ditto,” She motions to your injured hand, all bandaged up thanks to Dewey’s gentle insistence, “I’m sorry it happened, you shouldn’t have gotten hurt saving me.” She concludes, ever the saint.
“Sid, no. Okay? None of that should have happened in the first place.” And I should have seen it coming. You keep that one to yourself.
“Do you really think Billy did it?” Tatum questions from beside you.
“He was there, Tatum.” Sidney replies solemnly.
You zone out of the conversation, even after Sidney leaves the room. You can’t stop thinking about the look Billy gave you as they pushed him into the back of the police car. He was desperate, that much was obvious, but there was something else there too, it was almost like he was heartbroken.
Why would he look at you like that?
Maybe he was upset that you figured him out before he had the chance to gut you like a fish. Maybe it was because he knew Sid would never speak to him again.
Or maybe it was because he couldn’t fathom you believing this about him, you ponder remorsefully, maybe he was innocent.
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You’re on edge, anyone with a functioning pair of eyes can see that. But it’s not for the reasons they’d think. You’re not scared of some masked psycho reaching out and slicing your throat. You’re perturbed at all of the eyes that are drawn to you like moths to a flame. 
You’d had enough of it before the first period bell even rang.
“How does it feel to be almost murdered?” An immensely insensitive reporter shouted, hovering the microphone unreasonably close to Sid’s face, onlookers gathered around you, awaiting her response with bated breath, “Keep holding that thing in her face and I’ll be happy to ask you the same question.” You threatened half-heartedly, gently maneuvering Sid and yourself through the crowd.
“Hey pretty lady,” Stu’s congenial voice sounds from behind you, firmly knocking this morning’s unpleasant memory from your cranium. He wraps his gangly arms around your middle and bends down a farcical distance to rest his chin upon your shoulder, “Star in any good horror movies lately?” He questions, letting out a chortle at his own words.
“You’re a really emotionally intelligent guy Stu. Anybody ever tell you that?” Your acerbic undertone isn’t lost on him for once as he registers your discomfort.
“Hey- That was- You know I’m just joking, I’m sorry.”
“I know you’re joking, you’re just not very funny.” 
Removing his hands from your body, too soon for your liking, you think, he throws himself dramatically against a row of lockers, hands on his heart as he groans in mock agony, “Take it back! Please, take it back!” 
He’s an idiot.
An idiot with perfectly carved dimples and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. And you want so desperately not to give in to his theatrics, but you can’t help it, not when those eyes are shining at you like the cascading glimmer of the moonlight. You’re smiling before you can stop yourself.
“Ahhh, there it is,” Stu’s voice still holds that ever-present joking tone, but his eyes are sincere, like he’s desperate for you to pick up on the emotion hiding beneath it all, “Can’t live without that smile. ‘M never gonna let you go.”
Your heartbeat rapidly increases in pace and you all but force yourself to look anywhere but his imprudently handsome face. Stop that, you internalize, best friends, nothing more.
“(y/n), hey. Can I talk to you for a sec?” You don’t need to redirect your gaze to pinpoint the source of the voice.
It’s Billy.
“See ya later, Sunshine.” Stu bids you farewell, placing a gentle lingering kiss on the apple of your cheek.
“I have to get to class.” You turn to walk from Billy, not in the mood to hear whatever tales of deception he’s concocted in the confines of his imagination.
“Just-” He reaches out for your arm, stopping dead in his tracks when you flinch away from his touch, “Give me ten minutes okay? If you hate me after that, then I’ll leave you alone for good.” The sorrow in his voice is enough to keep your feet firmly planted.
“You’ve got,” You spare a quick glimpse at the clock on the wall, mentally calculating how long it’ll be before you’re late to AP Chemistry, “Six minutes and fifty-two seconds. Take it or leave it.”
“Yeah, I’ll take it.” He attempts a smile but it falls faster than it formed.
“I’m not an idiot Billy. Or- Or maybe I am, because I didn’t see it sooner, but-”
“Don’t do that,” His voice resembles a whisper, his eyes are pleading but there’s also an edge in them that makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck, “Don’t- You know me, right? We’ve been friends since we were kids. Look at me,” His fingers reach out for you, a near imperceptible smile twitching at the sides of his mouth when you don’t immediately recoil, “You know me. I’d never do anything to hurt you.” 
You know in your mind that there’s no reasonable explanation for how it all adds up. He fits the profile. But in your heart, you know he’s telling you the truth. The look in his eyes confirms his words, he wouldn’t hurt you.
Against your better judgement you lean into his touch, his hand finds its way to your cheek, drawing indistinguishable circles above your zygomatic bone with his thumb.
“What about Sid? Have you talked to her?” You feel his body tense up, though he does a good job of keeping his emotions unreadable.
“Yeah. We talked.”
“And?”
“And,” He breathes agitatedly, “We broke up.”
“You what? Well- Are you okay? Is she okay? Oh god, I should go find her.” You softly attempt to maneuver from his grip but his hold tightens slightly.
“She’s the one who dumped me, so I’m sure she’s fine.” 
“Does she still think-?”
“No. No, she knows I didn’t do it. But I guess it just wasn’t working out.” If he’s lying, he should make a career out of it. You’re studying every inch of his captivatingly handsome face, and you can’t find a hint of misrepresentation.
“It’s for the best really,” His honeyed gaze settles on your own eyes, your breath hitching noticeably as you take in their mahogany-toned opulence, “Otherwise I couldn’t do this.” His lips are on your own without a moments hesitation.
You know the only intelligent response is to pull away and race to AP Chem, pretending like it never happened. But today you’re letting your heart think for you. And it feels precariously marvellous. You kiss him back with more passion than you knew you were capable of mustering, the years of feelings you’ve hidden away, even from yourself, come spilling out from your lips and land delectably onto his.
Billy moves his unoccupied hand into your hair, giving it a gentle tug, expertly sliding his tongue into your mouth the moment your lips part to release a gentle moan. If this is what it feels like to prioritize your heart above your mind, you’re not entirely confident you’ll ever use your brain again.
The vociferous ringing of the warning bell unwillingly splits the two of you apart, though his forehead still rests contentedly against your own.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that, Doll.” His eyes are looking at you with a plethora of unknown emotions and your heart is beating far too fast for you to decipher them.
“Worth the wait?” You question softly.
“Absolutely. Glad the wait’s almost over though.”
The wait’s almost over.
Maybe it was the warning bell, or your AP Chem teacher’s disdain for tardiness, or your ever-hastening heartbeat and affections for a certain brown-eyed boy, but you missed it.
The one and only slip-up he made all day and you were too lovestruck to notice.
Those six minutes and fifty-two seconds would cost you big time.
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“Ahh, there’s my Sunshine. Perfect timing!” Stu swings a lanky arm over your shoulders as you catch up to him in the school parking lot. “I just finished spreading the good news,” He states with a cheeky grin, as if you should have any idea what he’s referring to.
“Oh, well are congratulations in order then? How far along are you?” You press a teasing hand to his stomach, grin growing as he sticks his tongue out at you, moving his hands to your sides and giving you a short tickle.
“Oh, ha-ha. She’s a real comedian today, huh?” He narrows his eyes in jest, “I’m talkin’ about the crazy killer get outta school free bash I’m throwin’ tonight. You’re coming of course,” He tells you rather than asks you, though you’ve never had much luck saying no to Stu.
“Another one of your million dollar ideas I presume? ‘Cause there’s nothing totally birdbrained about throwing a curfew-breaking rager with a masked psycho killer on the loose.” You’re not keen on the idea of showing up to some party with everything that’s been happening, not to mention what Sid must think of it all.
Not that you have a right to act all sanctimonious when it comes to Sidney’s feelings, her relationship with Billy was barely over before you had your tongue down his throat.
“Come on, Sunshine, it’ll all mean nothing without you there.” 
It’ll all mean nothing.
“What’ll mean nothing?” You question gently, careful to hide the inquisitive edge to your query.
Stu’s eyes widen sizeably as he clears his throat, “Just- Nothing. You’re- You’re coming right?”
After that? You’re definitely going. Tonight you’re figuring out once and for all what this boy’s been hiding from you.
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You tried to stay away from Billy, honestly. But the second his eyes met yours in Stu’s living room, you knew it was a futile attempt.
The two of you expeditiously wandered upstairs into one of the many vacant bedrooms available in the Macher house, barely closing the door behind you before your lips were melding together.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this all day,” Billy hums against your lips, placing another searing kiss there before moving his way down to your neck. 
Engaging in a moment of passion at a party while an unidentified serial killer roams on the loose may not have been your finest moment but, unintelligently, that was the furthest thing from your mind. Billy’s hands were now sliding delectably slowly underneath the hem of your shirt as his lips continued their pursuit on your neck, that was the sole occupant of your thoughts.
At least it was, until you saw him.
Before you could verbalize the killer’s sudden materialization to Billy, it was too late.
The masked figure hastily removed Billy from your grip, his cold steely blade acrimoniously slashing Billy with ease, ostensibly the knife was even sharper than it looked. Billy’s blood splattered onto your face and you made the split second decision that, this time, a glass of water and a painting weren’t going to protect you.
“(y/n), I need you to remember this part, okay? No matter how scared or tired or hopeless you feel, if you can run, you run! Alright?” You’d heard your dad’s voice more in your head these past few days than you had out loud in months, but at that moment you were simply grateful you’d ever heard it at all.
You didn’t chance a single look behind you, expertly weaving your way through Stu’s house and out the back door. You didn’t glance back even after you’d escaped the house and almost crossed the property line.
Where did all the cars go?
If there were any other choice, you wouldn’t have ran back into the house. But your friends were nowhere to be found and, peculiarly, neither was the killer.
If he was out there looking for you, surely he’d never expect you to go back inside. All you had to do was reach the phone in the kitchen and call 911. The last sight you were prepared to see was the killer’s masked face parallel to your own.
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“Well... How do ya like our big reveal, Sunshine?” Stu grins wickedly from behind Sidney.
The deep crimson remnants of the scene you thought you’d witnessed are still making their way down your face, trickling along your tepid skin like raindrops on a car window. You wipe them away fervently, the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you becoming more than you can bear.
It’s not even real blood.
“What is this?” You utter nauseously, gesturing to the foreign substance coating your face.
It’s probably the least important question you could be asking right now but you’ll admit the two of them have put on quite the performance. You’re sickened, but you’re curious.
Billy removes his mask, stepping closer to you and wiping a drop of the mystery liquid from your cheek, ignoring the way you flinch at his touch and placing the finger onto his tongue he lets out a low hum of approval, “’S’Corn syrup, Doll. Same stuff they used for pig’s blood in Carrie.”
Jesus.
Sid freed herself from Stu’s grip, him and Billy now distractedly gazing at you with distinguishable looks of pride. You gesture your head near-imperceptibly toward the entryway, a silent request for her to run while she has the chance. She hesitates, clearly apprehensive about leaving you to fend for yourself with two armed maniacs, but you need her to go. You can attempt your own escape when you know she’s safe.
“You had me fooled,” You start in a desperate effort to maintain their attention, “I mean, I had my doubts- But that whole fake death scene upstairs? You guys really sold it.” Sid discreetly makes her way to the entryway, stopping to look at you with a final questioning look on her weary face. 
Nodding your head near invisibly, you make the devastating mistake of sweeping your eyes over her frame to survey her injuries. It was quick, a nanosecond at most before your gaze was back in front of you, but it wasn’t quick enough to go unnoticed by Billy, who grabs ahold of his knife and has it pointed against Sid’s throat in a matter of seconds. 
Billy and Stu launch into a certifiably demented rant, their words exploding on Sidney in a particularly violent manner.
Why would they have it out for Sid specifically?
Oh.
Billy turns toward you and ends his dialogue without warning when he recognizes the look of understanding on your features.
“You killed her,” You breathe a near sigh of relief, finally understanding the bigger picture, “You killed Maureen and you’ve spent the last- Who fucking knows how long you’ve spent, just planning this- All to torture Sid.” It’s all making so much fucking sense and you can’t believe the amount of time it’s taken you to piece it all together, “You killed Casey Becker too, ‘cause she sits next to Sid in English. You knew she’d see that empty seat every day and be reminded of her mom. Psychological warfare…” 
Billy looks uncharacteristically proud watching you piece it all together, “Got it in one, (y/n).” 
“You’re- You’re sick! Why? Why the fuck would you do that?” Sidney struggles in Billy’s hold as he explains his motive behind her mother’s murder.
Mommy issues. Figures you’d have that in common.
Stu looks outwardly surprised at Billy’s reveal, indirectly confirming your dad’s two person theory. One killer with a personal connection to the victim and the other just in it for the thrill of the hunt. Dad’s gonna be so pissed he missed this, you regard inwardly.
“How are you gonna do it then?” You question the two unjustly handsome lunatics.
“Do what, Sweetheart?” Billy asks benevolently from beside Sid, still holding the tip of his blade to her neck.
“How are you gonna kill me?” You probe.
The question is a test. You’ve got a theory that they didn’t plan far enough ahead to remember that your dad will hunt them down to the ends of the earth after you die, especially since they haven’t seemed particularly keen on covering their trail. If you figured them out this quickly, your dad would have them behind bars in no time.
“What?” Billy asks, all previous traces of jubilance promptly removed from his face.
“How are you going to kill me?” You repeat tauntingly, if your best friends since elementary school were going to kill you like it was nothing, you were going to enjoy the thought of them spending the rest of their lives in florescent orange jumpsuits, “Spare me the gory details but, you do know what FBI stands for, right? Good luck getting away with it this time.” Thankfully, your voice manages to come out far more confident than you’re feeling inside.
Stu moves from beside you to in front of you, gently placing his sizeable hands on either side of your face. Has he always been this tall? Craning your neck to look up at him, the smug smile you managed to plaster on slides off and morphs into confusion as you notice the doleful look on his face. Why is he looking at you like you just kicked his puppy?
“You can’t really believe that,” His voice is so gentle, you could almost forget the sheer lunacy that was dripping from it moments ago, “What did I tell you, Sunshine? I’m never gonna let you go.” He’s looking at your lips like he wants to kiss them, and if you were under any other circumstance, there’d be nothing to keep you from it. He leans in and you almost move to do the same before you hear Sidney’s panicked voice calling out.
“Leave her alone! Please. If you want to kill me then fucking do it already, just let (y/n) go!”
Right, this is an active hostage situation.
Stu let his guard down to console you. Both of his hands on your head means he’s no longer holding the gun, but there’s no easy way to go about gaining control of it. You could kick him in the shins and hope he stays distracted long enough, but your dad’s voice runs through your mind once again, “You can’t reason with a psychopath (y/n), but sometimes you can play along with their fantasy to gain their trust.” You know this isn’t what he had in mind, but you’re running out of options.
Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean up on your toes and kiss Stu with fervour. It’s a good kiss, one of the best you’ve ever had, in fact. There’s a moment, just a split second while you’re reaching for the gun behind his back, that you wish it was for real. He pulls you in deeper and you try to convince yourself that you’re only kissing back to make it believable.
Finally you feel the cool metallic handle of the gun, gripping onto it firmly you muster up the strength to pull back from Stu’s embrace. Aiming the barrel between him and Billy, you can almost feel your heart crack at the look of betrayal painted upon Stu’s face.
No, you remind yourself sternly, they kill people. For fun. They’re not your best friends anymore, they’re murderers.
“Let her go.” You ignore the internal war waging between your heart and your mind.
“(y/n)…” Billy’s not as shocked as Stu. As a matter of fact, Billy’s not shocked at all. He knows you, almost better than you know yourself, “Put the gun down. You’re not gonna shoot us.” His voice is stern, his words a cross between a warning and a command.
He’s right, as usual. The one thing your dad could never get you to do was shoot a gun. You fucking hate those things.
“You’re right, I’m not gonna shoot you,” Your voice is even, but you know he picks up on the slight shake of your hands as you aim the gun toward his chest, “As long as you let her go.”
“That’s not gonna happen, Doll.” He shakes his head, frustration rapidly becoming anger “I’m not asking you again (y/n). Put it down. Now.”
“Or what?” You bluff in a last ditch attempt to maintain a facade of bravery.
Billy’s anger finally reaches its boiling point and he answers your question wordlessly.
It’s different than it looks in the movies. The blood doesn’t trickle out slowly and melodramatically. It spews out like a faucet and it never stops.
You drop the gun after that, rushing to sit at Sid’s side on the floor in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. It was a single deep slash, clean across her throat. The quiet gurgling sounds of blood filling her lungs finally subside after her last breath sounds, and your crimson stained hands remove themselves from her neck.
“Now, are you gonna start listening to me? Or do I have to do somethin’ like that again?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You know what’s wrong with him, with both of them. They’re psychopaths. But you can’t prevent the question from slipping past your lips, you’re desperate for some understanding as to what exactly is it is they intend to gain from their whole plan.
“What’s wrong with me? I told you to put the fuckin’ thing down!” Billy’s still angry, what’s new?  “Shit! That’s not how it was supposed to go.” His agitation fading slightly into discontent. Clearly he wanted to take his time killing Sid. At least you spared her some suffering.
“We gotta get out of here Billy. It’s only a matter of time before the cops show up.” Stu’s voice sounds, entirely indifferent to the scene he just witnessed.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” Billy runs his left hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration, his right hand latched firmly on the gun you dropped after he slit Sidney’s throat, “Shit! Alright, let’s go.” He gestures his head to the door, his eyes haven’t left you since your little standoff, making it clear that he’s talking to you.
“What?” Your voice is laced with perplexion. He can’t seriously expect you to walk out of there with them.
Right?
“C’mon, Sunshine. You already got him in a mood, don’t make it any worse.” Stu’s voice holds that ever present hint of amusement, as if this is just like old times, when you and Stu would make one too many jokes at Billy’s expense and he’d spend the rest of the day sulking.
“I’m not- You can’t actually think I’m going anywhere with you,” You chuckle in disbelief, “You just killed my best friends!” You don’t have explicit confirmation that Randy and Tatum are dead too, but considering the current state of affairs, it’s reasonably obvious.
“We’re your best friends, (y/n). We’re more than that, actually.” Billy kneels down in front of you on the kitchen floor. His anger has finally subsided, he’s speaking in a normal tone, the sticky crimson remnants on your hands serve as the only reminder of his previous outburst.
“That was before-”
“Oh come on, Doll,” He cuts you off, calloused fingers wiping the excess corn syrup from your face, “You ever wonder why the daughter of an FBI profiler couldn’t figure out there was something off with us?” His grin is wicked but his touch is gentle, almost comforting, “It’s ‘cause you didn’t want to see it. You didn’t want anything to get between us, because you feel the same way about us that we do about you.”
You want to tell him to fuck off. That he’s crazy and you have no idea what he’s talking about. But you can’t. Because he’s right, he’s right and he knows it.
Taking your silence as confirmation he continues, delicately tracing your cheek with his nimble fingers, “You love us,” Stu makes his way to your side, smiling with dimples on full display as Billy speaks, “And you can try and deny it, if you want to. But we all know the truth.”
“So what if I did?” You finally find your voice, it’s shakier than you’d like but it’s there, “If you know me as well as you think you do, then you know there’s no way in hell I’d go anywhere with you after this.”
“You wanna know how well I know you?” Billy’s voice is sharp, bitter, you’re getting under his skin again, “I know you, (y/n). I know you’re not afraid of masked killers, or watching your friend die,” He releases you from his grip, standing back to his full height as his words permeate your brain, “I know your worst fear.” He gestures for Stu to follow as he takes small leisurely steps toward the doorway, ignoring the look of confusion and panic on Stu’s face at the prospect of leaving there without you.
Stu reluctantly follows Billy toward the exit, not removing his eyes from your enervated form. When they finally reach the doorway Billy resumes his speech, a contemptuous tone lacing his voice, “Being left here all alone.” He says simply.
This is your own fault, really. Allowing someone to get so close to you, learn everything about you, use everything they’ve learned against you.
You could argue that he’s wrong, but he’s not.
You could go out fighting, but you don’t.
You could stay sitting on the floor until the police inevitably discover you, but you won’t.
Billy walks back over to you, offering you a hand with a mischievous glint present in his eyes, “So,” He starts devilishly, “What’s it gonna be, Doll?”
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30k follower celebration for Hannibal Lecter please prompt 3 “I never thought I would see you again.”
.⋆。Won’t Let Go Again。⋆.
Hannibal Lecter x plus size reader
implied Hannigram x plus size reader
Moving to Baltimore was supposed to be a fresh start, to escape the ghosts of your past but a budding new friendship with an FBI profiler leads you back to the man who left you behind
Warnings: european!reader, DARK, usual Hannibal warnings (implied cannibalism, kidnapping, drugging, manipulation), childhood lovers, needles
WC: 1.2k
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
Halloween Celebration
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America confused you, everything was big and moved so quickly, you considered it a miracle that you didn’t constantly get lost. But it was such a beautiful place, especially Baltimore. The mixture of old and new architecture that lined the bay was so reminiscent of your old home but also gave you a whole new world to explore.
With a paper map in your hands, you wandered down a mostly empty street, your small heels clacking softly against the pavement. You were determined in your search for a new coffee shop to try out on your day off but so far, you have been unsuccessful. Head down and concentrated, you didn’t notice an equally distracted man walking straight in your direction.
You bowled into each other and you both fell down. You winced and the man yelped as you crashed onto the cold sidewalk. “Oh god! I am so sorry, I should’ve seen where I was going.” You apologised quickly, ignoring the way the skin of your knees burned with pain.
The man shook his head at you, causing his brown curls to tumble over his forehead. “No it’s my fault, sometimes I just wander and forget my surroundings.” He pulled himself to his feet and offered you a hand, although he would not meet your eyes.
“I suppose we are both at fault then.” You chuckled and allowed him to help you to your feet. Your long skirt fell back over your legs, concealing the small cuts on your knees. You took note of the way he made sure that you were all right before he appraised his own body for any injuries. 
He suddenly ducked down and grabbed something from a puddle on the side of the street, and when he popped back up with your now destroyed and waterlogged map, he smiled sheepishly at you. “How about I get us some coffee as a sorry for ruining your map?”
He finally met your gaze with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes you had ever seen. Then his stomach growled loudly and he looked away, pink dusting over his high cheekbones. “Then let me buy some sandwiches for us both.” You offered.
——————
Your friendship with Will Graham was like how you viewed the states, both nostalgic and brand new, filled with mystery and comfort. You learned quickly that he was not a very reliable friend given that he frequently disappeared into cases and his own mind but he was also an incredible friend when he was around.
He showed you all of Baltimore and taught you some tricks to navigating any city so you wouldn’t get lost. And now, he was inviting you to dinner- at his therapist’s house. 
“I would hardly call this romantic, Will.” His eyes flicked to you as he reached to ring the doorbell of the townhouse in front of you.
“I never said this was going to be romantic.” He snipped but he still squeezed your hand tightly.
You rolled your eyes playfully. “You said that you were taking me to dinner somewhere nice, I assumed it was a date.”
“You’re teasing me, I don’t like when you tease me.” He muttered but you could clearly see the way the corner of his lips turned upwards in a soft smile. 
Before you could retort that he did in fact love your teasing, the door opened and the breath was sucked from your lungs. “Hannibal.”
Amber eyes widened and the careful composure he possessed, fell away. “Mylimasis.” (Beloved) Your hand went limp in Will’s hold and suddenly your vision was blurry with tears.
“I-I have to go.” But your companion held tight, his own blue eyes staring at you with an apt fascination. You could see the way his brain was ticking over, analysing each and every part of you but you refused to give anything away. “Let me leave.” 
You tried to pull from his hold and instead you were pushed into another one. Hannibal was much stronger than you remembered and he easily pulled you into his home. Will followed close behind, shutting the door with a firm slam. You would later question why he so blindly obeyed Hannibal but in the moment, you were only focused on the way your heart was breaking all over again. 
His chest was firm beneath your touch as he tugged you fully into his arms. He was older, there was no doubt about that, but the longer you looked into those golden eyes you used to know so well, the more you saw of that boy who had stolen your very soul. “My mylimasis, I never thought I would see you again.” 
Your anger flared once more, setting your veins alight with a fire you thought you had extinguished long ago. “That tends to happen when you abandon someone.” He did not even flinch at your fight.
A large, warm hand cupped your full cheek as he gazed at you just the same as he had so many years ago- you wanted to punch that look off of his face. “Even more beautiful than I remember.”
Your eyes burned with unshed tears, memories unearthing from the deep graves in your mind you had buried them in.
The first time you saw him, you didn’t think he was real. He was so beautiful he had to have been some sort of fae. His regal features practically glowed in the spring sunlight as he smiled at you. You could never clearly remember what he said to you that day in the flower fields by your small home but you did remember the feeling of his words- love, comfort, warmth.
But the day he left, his touch only brought you pain. You could still feel the way that the gravel sliced into your palms as you fell at his feet, begging him not to leave. He promised you the world yet he took the world from you. His eyes were dark, his lips turned down in a vicious sneer.
No matter how hard you tried, you could not forget the expression of pure hatred and disgust he held on that day. 
“You know her?” Will finally spoke from behind you. Hannibal finally looked away from you and to his patient who still stood awkwardly right in front of the door. 
“She is my first love.” He answered simply as you scoffed under your breath. “It seems fate brought my two loves to each other and then to me.” 
Your eyes went wide. “Let me go!” You thrashed violently but his grip never faltered. “You’re fucking crazy!” Hannibal never even acknowledged your struggle, instead nodding over your head towards his lover.
So caught up in your struggle, you didn’t hear the opening and subsequent shutting of a drawer before the heat of Will’s body drew closer and his breath tickled the back of your neck. “Don’t fight it, it will only make this worse.” His voice sounded cold and so unlike the man who would call you in the middle of the night to talk about a new stray dog he rescued.
You tried to turn your head but Hannibal firmly gripped your jaw, keeping you still. There was a pinch in your neck then warmth suddenly flooded through you. “Fuck you.” Even as your words slurred, the malice in your tone didn’t escape either man.
“Just close your eyes mylimasis, we will never let you go ever again.” The darkness swallowed you whole.
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