#c/w dismemberment

[the--calamity]

10/05

KEPT

#c/w body horror #c/w gore #c/w dismemberment #Sephiroth #Vincent Valentine #PAPA #Young Sephiroth Calamity Style

[thedailyplatypics]

TW//pretty violent descriptions of Doof’s traps and wondering how they might actually kill Perry/Death/Falling/Suffocation/Burning

Perry Could Have Died A Lot:

Doofenshmirtz’s Traps Becoming Tamer, The Evolution Of Perry And Doof’s Relationship, And The Expendability Of OWCA Agents.

In Season 1 and 2 many of the traps created by Doofenshmirtz aimed to KILL Perry, either unintentionally or intentionally, and sometimes in the worst, most horrifying ways imaginable.

It’s genuinely concerning how bad some early traps were and what exactly Doofenshmirtz was expecting when these traps succeeded? I usually like to imagine Perry as an invincible fighting machine, but what if he wasn’t invincible? What if some of these traps actually succeeded? And What happens to the other poor OWCA agents that aren’t as skilled when their nemesis has something cruel in store?

Showing the de-escalation of these traps also shows just how much their relationship evolved over the course of the show.

But before we get into that though, let’s quickly go over some of these traps and just how badly they would have turned out for poor Perry.

I’ll be rating them from 0-10 on how awful each death would have been (10 being the worst) based on how slow the death would be, how helpless he would be, how horrifying it would be, how painful it would be, what the treatment of the remains would be like, and how bad it still is for Perry even though he escaped to give a FULL look at just how messed up Doof’s traps were.

A very slow, lonely death by suffocation and a helpless situation. What would Doof even have done to clean this up? Would he just keep Perry in there forever??

8/10 worst way to die

A long and horrifying death from falling as he would have been completely helpless to do anything, but wait for the inevitable thud and darkness at the end. If he fell on a hard surface the only thing recognizable from him would be his hat. More like Perry the Splat-ypus (I’m sorry)

7/10 worst way to die

A lot to breakdown here: Dismemberment, decapitation, blown to shreds by a canon ball, and literally a murder s**c*de bombing by nuclear detonation wtf☠️??? And imagine the cleanup for half these things..

7/10 worst way to die

Death by being mauled, torn to shreds, and eaten by crocodiles all while Doofenshmirtz watched with a smile on his face is pretty sick. (This is the second time Doof’s tried to feed him to crocs/gators)

7/10 worst way to die

This was mostly unintentional, but death by either hypothermia or suffocation.

6/10 worst way to die

This trap placed under a rocket booster would have instantly incinerated them if it had succeeded. While not very painful compared the rest, it’s equally as scary. Imagine being there for one second and then poof. The only thing that is left of you is ashes.

If they took too long to escape the health affects from the toxic gasses released by rocket fuel such as, NO2, HNO3, hydrazines, and other substances would have been destructive towards their health.

5/10 worst way to die

One of Doof’s worst traps if it wasn’t so easy to escape. Try to imagine a laser cutting into you like this, cutting into one organ after the other, slow, searing hot, and also yes, extremely painful. If the pain didn’t kill Perry first through something like cardiac arrest, then multi-organ failure would have.

AND Literally what else was Doof expecting to come home to after the LOVE MUFFIN event??? NOT a dead platypus cut in half??!! What would he even have done with his body after that!??

10/10 worst way to die

This one is just the worst one. Based on the color of this lava, it’s around 1,600 F°!

If the rope didn’t burn through first he would have basically suffocated, seared his lungs to a crisp from the hot air, roasted alive slowly, and burst into flames (Anakin Skylwalkered) but if the rope broke he would probably feel (and not feel) the worst pain imaginable on earth for a good few seconds as all the water in his body would boil, nerves would desintegrate, every single organic molecule in his body would denature, and the lava would wrap around him like grease when you put bacon on a frying pan (that last part might just only apply to rocks though). The bones would burn for the longest, but soon there would be no trace of him left.

It should be noted that lava is a dense liquid and would feel pretty solid unlike water.

Even though he did escape this one, imagine the burns he got and seared lungs. Getting this close to molten lava typically sets people on fire and gives them serious burns. There’s also the toxic gases, heavy metals, and carcinogenic matter he inhaled. Additionally, this lava was bubbling and spraying everywhere. Once a drop of this molten rock like that hits your skin it burns your skin, burns your nerves, cools, and sticks on you. You wouldn’t feel it yet, but how did he hide that stuff when he came home to Phineas And Ferb? Burns can also lead to infections which could be serious and lead to removal of infected areas and amputation or even death,

While the long term health affects he suffered from this experience might not directly lead to his death in the future unless he does get a deadly infection, it could contribute significantly to things like future lung diseases and cancer. There’s also no doubt this experience (mostly from the hot air likely searing his lungs a bit) at least gives him breathing trouble now which would be incredibly depressing.

10/10 worst way to die

Perry didn’t deserve this.

Now, did Doofenshmirtz really have the intention to seriously injure or kill Perry or did he know he’d always escape and wreck his plans? I can’t say for sure, but he survived all of these and he’s also OWCA’s best agent. So, what happens to the lesser skilled agents….?

Perry’s Not The Only One (Tangent):

What percentage of OWCA agents have died in the field of battle with their nemesis and vice versa? We are shown that the one Canadian evil scientist almost died in MML: Agent Lentee Diogee and we know that Agent T (Turkey) was unfortunately killed on Thanksgiving (PNF: The Remains of A Platypus), whether he was mixed up in the turkey harvest process, it was actually because of a scheme unrelated to Thanksgiving, or because his Nemesis did in fact eat him is still unclear.

Also, does the government use animals in OWCA for secret missions because they have advantages humans don’t have or is it really because they’re actually more expendable compared to people. If you think about it, if a human dies because of U.S. government missions, everyone asks questions and there’s a lot of liability, but if a random pigeon or someone’s pet mysteriously goes missing, it’s not national news and no one’s asking the federal government what happened to it. An animal agent is not just a silly cartoon thing, it’s the perfect way to spy, and the US Government has literally tried and used animals as agents before (obviously those ones didn’t have human consciousness like in Phineas And Ferb though since it is a cartoon). They are very expendable and inexpensive.

Back To Doof And Perry:

When did Doof’s traps become more tame? Around the end of season 2 Doofenshmirtz sort of stopped the deadly traps that were designed to kill Perry and mostly focused on traps designed to restrain Perry instead. Sure they still have their laser fights and very dangerous situations and what not (like the Where’s Perry incident), but Doof and Perry are much closer friends now, and we know neither really want the other dead. As Dan Povenmire said, “they really are the most important person in each other’s lives.”

So, when did Doof stop/reduce the death traps? (I use reduce because I checked, but I’m not 100% certain the pnf wiki got every trap)

The last time I remember Doofenshmirtz actually fine with Perry dying was in the Across the 2nd Dimension Movie when he was perfectly okay with Perry being sent to his doom. However, at the end of the film seconds before the 2nd Dimension Doof is about to crush Perry, Phineas, and Ferb, Doofenshmirtz basically saves Perry’s life by stopping 2nd Dimension Doof at the last second and giving him his toy train. (Maybe a little because the horrifying thing 2D Doof did to his Perry too)

Of course he doesn’t remember this because of the Amnesia-inator applied to him and everyone else at the end of the movie, but as we know from the Giant Tire Swing episode when the kids start singing the Summer song from AT2D spontaneously, but cannot recall where it’s from, that memories are still somewhere in the subconscious of these characters.

So, I’d like to think that Doofenshmirtz’s desire to kill Perry sort of faded after actually seeing him come the closest to death he’d ever been in the entire series and while he doesn’t remember it, it’s still there subconsciously.

There’s More:

By the end of the series Doof really isn’t that evil anymore. He’s just a guy pretending to be evil. Perry and Doof are a lot more casual with each other and friendlier, but Doofenshmirtz in The Last Day Of Summer kinda sucks. It’s really the big, real, last push from his evil phase and it shows. He really sucked to both Vanessa and Perry.

In this episode a time looping machine gives Doofenshmirtz multiple tries to finally complete his scheme. In the looping he tries to perfect a trap that can restrain Perry and returns to the type of deadly traps from S1-2, but the mega-trap never overdoes itself and somehow only fails catch Perry, not kill him. Despite every deadly piece and Perry almost getting chopped in half by a bear trap, the mega-trap strangely doesn’t ever kill Perry. It only fails to catch Perry A LOT. This could just be luck and shows that Perry is truly invincible, but since this is later seasons we already know Doof doesn’t want to kill Perry anymore so is it that far off to say that he also didn’t just perfect this trap to not only restrain Perry, but also to not kill him and keep him alive? Does this mean sometimes he could have overdone the trap and there were failed tries to not kill him??

He probably considered that the day repeated so even if he overdid it and killed Perry, the day would restart anyways and he could tone down the part of the trap that killed him, but without the looping he knows the only way to stop Perry is to kill him.

This would be another reason for why he did what he did next.

In one of the final loops when he succeeds with his trap after an unknown amount of tries and finally becomes mayor. The time loop machine also disappears, so he thinks he can no longer loop time now which means no trap will ever be as affective as his time-loop trap and the only affective way to keep Perry from ruining his schemes as he now knows from the time loop, is to kill him. So he uses his new power to legally make it so that Perry can no longer fight him to avoid that entire problem and keep his power, and continue to be evil without hurting him.

It’s somewhat thoughtful that he still doesn’t want Perry dead which is consistent with his character development, but ultimately he chooses evil over his best and only friend and loses him.

Of course we know it works out when he turns good, and he mostly gives up evil after the finale.

This is just another angle to look from when it comes to their relationship.

I don’t know how to end this because that’s about all I’ve got and I have been completely sidetracked from my day to write this and I should probably get back to it. Hopefully this blog makes sense. Feel free to suggest corrections or mistakes or add on any details you’d like to point out.

#perry the platypus #doofenshmirtz #phineas and ferb #blog #essay #pnf #the last day of summer #across the 2nd dimension #Perry and Doof #agent p #Vanessa #owca #theories #headcannons #pnf headcanon

[mars-ipan]

what batman was a target or smth

[borderless version under the cut]

#martzipan #had this idea in my head for a lil bit. i think it ends with c//atwoman kicking the shit outta him #if i get the energy i'll doodle that. no full drawings tho #ALSO FORGIVE MY INABILITY TO MAKE BMAN WIDE I AM. not good at muscular body types #OH right uhh main tags #the riddler #batman #his little question mark logo is fun to draw i like it. doodleable #IGNORE HOW LAZY THE BG IS I DID THIS LITERALLY IN ONE LIKE 4 HOUR SITTING #played around a lil bit with my shading style. same blocks but now w some airbrushed transparency added in. idk how much i like it #but i tried it out so! yay #sorry for these tag thoughts being so disjointed. it is like midnight #anywho. riddler is so funny to me. i'm not surprised that the tumblr girlies are fawning over him but to me this is just funny fucked up guy #*points at mass murderer* silly #wanted to call the stream like. 'batman unboxing' bc heehee but it just sounds like dismemberment #but i think this would be more abt like. riddler's little parasocial relationship #so. had to change it slightly #i was gonna queue this but eh. i'll just daybump instead

[notmrskennedy]

Friendliness

A/N - ha so i just wrote this - no editing we die like men. here’s the alternate ending to my other post Likeability (this one is the more predictable one y’all will probably like whoops) if you’ve read the other one, just skip to the end it’s all the same in the middle 

Summary - The Team meets a very unfriendly scientist which Spencer’s taken a fancy to

W/C - 2.9k (whoops)

Warnings - Mild Anatomy/bones/etc discussion, a pinch and change of swearing

----

Luke is holding his stomach in his hands. He could usually pride himself on keeping his cool, keeping his head—and stomach—together during a case. He’d seen enough dead bodies that this shouldn’t have thrown him like he’d just sailed twelve foot waves in a dingy. 

But he is, after all, standing over a mass grave. Watching a too giddy scientist dig up the bodies. 

You’ve captured everyone’s attention, for various reasons. Rossi is vaguely amused by your joyous shouting of bones and your rat moustached assistant. Luke can’t tear his eyes away from the car wreck—are you supposed to swing bones around like baseball bats? Reid seems more interested in your bad jokes and coveralls than he is in solving the case. 

The rat assistant—Stewart Walsh—squeezes between Luke and Reid, scuttling like some kind of diseased turtle. “Doctor Y/L/N!”

You barely stop pouring over the mud covered pelvis in your hands to even acknowledge him. 

“I just thought you should know that Dr. Evanston just got here.”

You look up, toss the bone to him, and snort. “Tell him the soil samples are four miles due east from here.”

“What’s wrong with Evanston?” Luke asks to no one in particular it seems, waving Stewart off to run for a group of approaching nerds in coveralls. 

Ignoring the question or maybe Luke, you just turn back to your search. Elbow deep in mud, being nice must not have been on the to-do list. Reid leans over, hands in his pockets, and whispers, “Evanston stole one of her research papers. I thought he was going to get his teeth kicked in—“

“Skull!” you holler. Luke isn’t stupid enough to miss the glare reserved for the sheepish Dr. Reid.

He clears his throat. “Thoughts so far, doctor?”

“I’m thinking beetles,” is all you say before turning back to your skull. Luke might not know many scientists, but he doesn’t think that most of them look at human skulls like its the Mona Lisa. Like this fat piece of bone held the answers to the universe inside its empty eye sockets. 

“Beetles?” Luke coughs. Rossi just shakes his head. Pretends this isn’t a conversation he’s having. Reid is still studying you like Luke might study infiltration schematics. Stewart runs up, out of breath, very rose coloured. 

You’re eyes are sparkling as you wade over to them with a new radius bone in your hands. Everyone bends like they know what they’re looking at and you point along the edge of the bone. “It’s a subtle difference but these bones have been cleaned before being buried. My guess is carrion beetles. They’re very hard workers. And—“ you switch to pointing at the radial head— “minute scoring and kerf marks. These look pretty old, so I’m assuming we’re getting close to the bottom.”

“So our unsub dismembered his victims,” Rossi begins, “then cleaned the pieces?”

You nod and hand off the bone to a very blushing Stewart. “I won’t know for sure until I’ve had a chance to examine all the bones. There’s nothing definitive yet. What a hobbyist though, right?”

You chuckle to yourself and dive back into fishing out more finger and wrist bones. Luke turns, runs his hands over his face, and hikes a thumb over his shoulder. “Where did we find her?”

Rossi shrugs, “FBI easter egg hunt.” Luke blinks, while Rossi chuckles at his gullibility. “Come on, the doctor’s the best in the field. Good kid, I can tell.” 

“Y/N’s great,” Spencer absently adds on, too busy staring at you. You’re explaining different types of dismemberment to Stewart like you’re discussing the rain. Luke grips onto his stomach just a little tighter. 

“Y/N, huh?” Luke teases, momentarily forgetting the unsettling feeling in his gut about you. “You two, uh, friends or something?”

It’s Reid’s turn to stumble. “Yeah, but it’s—we’re just—we’re just—.” 

Rossi shakes his head, slaps Reid on the shoulder. “Oh yeah, just friends. So, tell me. Do you talk about dismemberment before or after you make out?”

#

JJ wants to beg Emily not to make her go down into the basement. You’re down there. She knows it’s childish to be this avoidant—you are just a person after all. A creepy, psychopathic weirdo that makes JJ’s gut churn. She gets why Spencer’s taken to you—shared love of science and random trivia. She does. But that doesn’t mean JJ enjoys the cold ass morgue, smiling along as you ramble. Most of everyone’s limited contact with you has involved random facts and Stewart’s too intimate knowledge of fracture patterns. 

There had been ten minutes of reassurance from Emily that you were, in fact, not a horrible person. Ended with JJ making the cold and dark trek down to the morgue. She couldn’t imagine working down here all day long. No one to talk to, no one to strategise with, no where to go. Maybe it suited you. No one would have to listen. 

“—don’t know what to do!” echoes across the bottom of the stairwell, the morgue’s doors cracked open. The distress breaks JJ’s heart. Your voice stops her dead in her tracks.  

“They don’t hate you,” Spencer’s voice comes after. Gentler, softer. “They—they just don’t know you yet.”

“They don’t want to, Spence!” and JJ winces with the words. It always hurt more when the truth came out in that tone. “I get it! You know? I work with human remains and don’t bring my people skills with me when I’m on the job, but—that shouldn’t matter!” 

JJ winces again, tries to ignore how those are nothing short of teary sniffles echoing through her ears. She leans back against the wall and has no idea what to do. Spencer had obviously been down here for hours. Knew you well enough to get the teary truth. What could she do now? Interrupt? 

She’d walked into hostage situations less freakin’ stressful than this. 

“You’re right,” Spencer soothes, steadfast and strong, “it doesn’t matter. This isn’t—“

“It’s not your fault,” you sigh. JJ doesn’t want to hear the strangled touch to your voice. Doesn’t want to hear the break. “They’re your friends and I’m just your—“ 

 “Doctor!” Stewart calls and JJ could scream. You’re his what? 

At least, it’s as good as any moment to intrude. 

“What, Stewart?” you snapped, already broken away from Spencer with wet cheeks and stained glasses. You wipe them off haphazardly with the tail end of Spencer’s sweater sleeve—JJ couldn’t help but smile, even if it’s a little strangled. 

Stewart jumps like a wet cat and tosses a bundle of files into your hands. “Beetles.”

One word snatches the tears from your face. Snatches you away from Spencer’s side for one of the dozen skeletons on the tables. There was no reason to think that she’ll get her report from you now. With a rib bone in one hand and contemplation in your features—JJ can’t decide how unnerved she is—you’re a little too concentrated. 

Stewart scuttles around you. A little too attentive. A little too cherry tinted. Yep. No reports to be had from either of you. JJ turned to Spencer instead, hoping that maybe he’d be helpful. Plastered up like a billboard, JJ knows that saccharine smile isn’t going to get her anywhere. 

“Spence?”

He hums, halfheartedly tearing his eyes away. “Yeah?”

“I need the latest report for Emily, but I don’t think—“

“I’ll—just a second, JJ.” Spencer grins, sugary sweet, and slips away. JJ doesn’t miss how he places a hand on your shoulder as he passes. How you barely even notice that quite intimate contact. She also doesn’t miss how Stewart’s face sours at the action, how his eyes narrow enough that Spencer feasibly should’ve noticed. 

Reports in hand a minute later, JJ leans over to Spencer. Elbows him in the arm. “Stewart seems pretty jealous. Any reason for that?”

Spencer shrugs. “Wouldn’t know a thing about it.”

#

Rossi doesn’t have an opinion. Everyone keeps asking—oh Rossi, you’re the wisest of us all, what should we do about poor little Y/N? He doesn’t know, doesn’t care. You are just some scientist who is doing a thousand percent better job than any other forensics ‘expert’ he’s had the pleasure of working with. 

Your lab doesn’t smell. You don’t smell. Is there anything more to ask for? 

But he does get the brute of having to make the trek down to the morgue—god, his knees alone—and receives most of the reports from the not as horrible as everyone thinks Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. Who is joyfully humming while squinting over one of the skeleton’s hands. 

“Hey, doc,” he calls and you look up at him with an adorable sort of grin. “Got anything new?”

“Sure,” you chirp. Hesitate to wave him over. “If you want the details, that is.”

Rossi shakes his head, pulls up a stool to sit next to you and your subject. “I like to have as much knowledge as I can. You never know what will lead you to your un-sub.”

You settle your elbows on the table, straighten a stray finger bone. The team shouldn’t be worried about you being a psychopath. You’re dedicated, careful, attentive. Rossi hopes that if he ever gets turned into human remains, you’re the one looking over him. There’s been more care put into one skeleton than into his three combined marriages. 

“You’re in luck,” you answer, “I’ve got a lot to tell you about our attacker. You’ve got time, right?”

Rossi nods, smiles. “Plenty.”

#

Penelope still hasn’t met you and that kind of pisses her off. You haven’t made it upstairs once? She flies into some dingy Wyoming hovel of a police station for like a week and no one’s thought to bring you upstairs? Rude. 

She’s sitting in JJ’s desk chair, waiting for her and Luke to get back from interviewing a potential lead—some ex-felon who fit your makeshift profile. Reid’s scouring over some boring geographical profile, trying not to get annoyed as she nervously—angrily—rants about the case to him. She knows he’s tuning her out, but her work’s been put on the back burner until someone comes up with something to give her. 

There’s only so much a computer can find and she’s no profiler. 

It’s about five minutes after Reid snapped and left to get a coffee refill, when she picks up a call from the desk. “Hello?”

Creaking metal and shuddering breathing comes first. “Set the scalpel down” comes second.  She swallows, silent, and panicking. What the heck is she supposed to do? Paying attention to those hostage negotiation seminars that she definitely didn’t go to would’ve come in handy right about now. 

Said scalpel clatters onto some metal table, followed by a strong, “You really don’t want to do this. Please put the gun down.”

Oh god, this is happening. 

“You just—“ a male voice snips, bellowing out, “YOU DON’T LOOK AT ME.”

“I do look at you, Stewart,” you plead just as JJ and Luke clamour through the bullpen’s door. Penelope puts the call on speaker, mutes it, and screams for them. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Penelope sobs professionally, “someone’s got a gun.”

JJ runs for Emily’s office while Reid returns heedlessly. Luke puts a soft hand on Penelope’s cold one and squeezes. Newbie or not, it’s appreciated as the man’s voice returns. “I’ve tried for so long to get you to—to just—just look at me! I’ve done so much!”

“I know, Stewart,” you ease and Reid tenses. Nearly drops his coffee. “It’s not your fault. You’ve worked so hard.”

“Yeah,” Stewart sobs; Penelope can only imagine how crazy this kid must be. 

“Did you leave all those bodies for me, Stewart?” you question and everyone holds their breath. Luke squeezes harder on her hand. Reid’s twitching like a rabbit’s nose, a death grip on his mug, frozen as a Michigan pond. 

Stewart sniffles. Probably nods. Penelope doesn’t know whether to run or sit or cry. She decides it’s probably cry, but instead her fingers start moving to record the call, trace the office origin. 

“It was a great puzzle, Stewart, it was really genius. It was a fun case to follow, you know that.” You swallow hard, metal tinkles through the speaker. Please, Penelope begs, don’t let them kill each other. I haven’t met the doctor yet!

“Why did you kill these girls, Stewart?” your voice is so gentle and lulling Penelope almost forgets that she’s listening to you try to save your own life. 

 “I wanted you to look,” he says, sniffles. “I wanted you. I want you, Y/N. I want you to love me.”

It’s either her computer beeping or someone falling through a table or a gunshot. She doesn’t know. She’s crying too hard to care. 

#

Tara doesn’t know when she started to run—probably just after JJ, Luke, and Reid barrelled passed her by the bathroom shouting about the situation—but she’s almost to the morgue doors, right on Reid’s heels. Lord almighty, she feels so stupid. She’d had enough little one on one chats with Stewart to know he was some sort of psycho in disguise. To know that something was wrong with that kid. No one could last more than three minutes with your grad student assistant without wanting to take an eyeball out—his or theirs it didn’t matter. She’d let herself believe you when you told her that all forensic anthropologists seem like that. That there was nothing to worry about. 

Nothing to worry about her ass. 

Luke’s the first to storm the morgue, expecting what Tara is: you, dead, on the floor with Stewart on the brink of killing himself. But they stop and they stare and Reid beams on with the absurd look on your face. 

You’re shaking with rage, pointing a gun at a very unconscious, crumpled, bleeding Stewart Walsh. Your teeth are bared in what Tara would consider out of a comic book—ludicrous and of someone who’s completely lost their mind. JJ makes the mistake of asking if you’re alright.

“Alright?” you chirp, feral and ravenous. JJ and Luke shrink back as you shout, “I lived in Honduras for three years! This isn’t even the worst thing that’s happened to me. It’s my third fucking kidnapping!”

“T-third?” Luke croaks. 

“Third!” you shout again and recklessly set your gun on the table. Spencer grins, which sets you off further. “I’ve been nice. I’ve been accommodating. But this is my fourth psychotic grad student! I fucking swear—!”

Stewart groans—thank god he’s alive—and Spencer, thankfully, rushes forward to catch you before you can take anything else out on the kid. Tara’s heard rumours about mysterious other instances of your being under arrest. Illegal transportation of goods was one thing, police brutality was another. The scalpel sticking out of his knee is bad enough. 

She helps Luke haul Stewart to his feet, reeking of desperation and a much needed psych eval. JJ follows close behind, closes the morgue doors behind them. But not before they hear your muffled sobs and Spencer’s smiling. 

“You got him, Y/N.”

“No, Spence,” you correct, and Tara can’t help but be proud, “I kicked the snot out of him.”

#

Emily is barely awake when she sees it. JJ’s soft breathing next to her is lulling by itself, let alone if you add in Rossi’s rhythmic snoring and Luke’s idle whispers of sleep talk. Emily could do with some sleep and maybe a few days off. They could all use a few days off, especially after coming to terms with the fact a grad student had killed 12 women just to get a little action. 

From a scientist who freely admitted to enjoying the company of bones over real people. 

Alive people. 

No wonder Stewart had done what he’d done. 

Emily turns in her spot, lays back against the wall of the airplane and the seat. After nearly five decades—she’s never thinking about that again—of plane rides, she can comfortably say she can sleep anywhere. With any amount of noise, or cold, or pain. 

But her eyes are accidentally open when she peaks around the seat cushion. Spies the Wild Dr. Reid in his natural habitat, reading some ridiculously long book and…carding his fingers through your hair? He’s got a lock curled up around his finger, gently twisting it as he reads. You’re sleeping—knocked the fuck out—in his lap, gripping loosely onto his leg. 

You deserve the sleep, Emily decides with a smile. You’d worked the hardest on the case, up for nearly four days with as little rest as you can manage. How Stewart managed to stay awake enough to attack you is beyond Emily. She’s missed out on a few hours just today and she’s losing the battle with her eyelids. 

No one ever asked her opinion of you. Probably didn’t have to. You were not the easiest to like, but you’d captured her respect and a bit of her heart when you’d said at the beginning of the case: “I’m an excavator by trade—I’m at archeological digs most of the time—so it’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that these ladies are murder victims. I don’t think I’ll sleep until I’ve got names for them. And maybe the murderer on my table.”

Emily understood the unease, the apprehension. Why everyone was relieved when you’d turned down the plane ride she’d offered you. How they all bit back groans when Emily had insisted. But they’ll have to get used to it, Emily thinks and she settles again. Because they’ll see you again. No doubt about it. The way you’re wrapped up around Spencer, how you hold tighter when the jet bounces a touch, says just that much anyway. 

#no editing lads #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #reid #reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[silvcrignis]

Horror Show || Keira || Closed

She was honestly too invested in her side of the body to pay much attention to him, the whirring of the circular saw and the CRUNCH of bones her full attention. There was SPATTER, crimson flecks covering her face but they didn’t get into her EYES so she didn’t CARE. This was FUN. She’d never taken a person apart so METHODICALLY before. She’d ripped plenty of people to shreds before but that was with fangs or claw, those time were INSTINCT.

This was DIFFERENT. This was almost calming. She FINALLY glanced up to see how he was faring (wiping some long fair strands, that were unrecognisable as that since they were SATURATED with red, from her arm) with a serene hum that seemed BLASPHEMOUS in the grim setting.

She smirked at him before she spoke, sounding more ENTERTAINED than critical.

“Babe. Have you EVER used one of these on a PERSON before?” she laughed, moving over to his side of the remains (IF they could still even be called THAT) and turned off his saw.

“Shit, it’s all over you too. Take FIVE?” she offered, the thumb she rubbed across his face serving to only SMUDGE the fluid it touched.

@king-of-drainpipes

#kingofdrainpipes #c: Keira #horror show #v: tbd #((i left it vague so u can reply w/ whoever u want)) #but #:) #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: gore #tw: dismemberment #tw: everything

[dicefloweredits]

Creepy Vocaloid Song Everyday of October

Day 10: 50/50 (Halvsies)

Warning: Yandere-ish (I believe), noises of a c/////nS//w, dismemberment, gore

As I cannot listen to this one myself for trigger reasons, this is based on what I’ve read it’s about, and the song isn’t linked

~Mod Mayu

#Wow How Spooky! 🌸 October Edit Challenge! #vocaloid #vocaloid kin #Hatsune Miku #50/50 #50/50 Vocaloid #blood tw #Vocaloid aesthetic board #Vocaloid song aesthetic board

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

Music Tag Game

thank you @caillea for the tag! btw seeing you add Job For A Cowboy on your list made my heart literally skip a beat ✨. this looks like so much fucking fun! name your favorite songs from your playlist in alphabetical order.

here’s mine but Deathcore alphabet because that’s ✨my brand✨:

A - Aborning Pestilence by Vulvodynia & Acrania

B - Beast of Darkness by Brand of Sacrifice

C - Cesspool of Ignorance by Signs of The Swarm

D - Demolisher by Slaughter to Prevail

E - Emerald by Abiotic

F - Falsifier by Black Tongue

G - Gutted Face by Extermination Dismemberment

H - Human Harvest by Oceano

I - I Speak Astronomy by Jinjer

J - Judgement (& Punishment) by Jinjer

K - Knee Deep by Job For A Cowboy

L - Legions Of Unenlightened by Vulvodynia & Acrania

M - Malevolent Enslavement by Signs of The Swarm

N - Nobody by Decayer

O - Omnivore by Extermination Dismemberment

P - Plaguebearer by Infant Annihilator

Q - (literally was the hardest one to find so i settled for a song with a Q in it lmao) Parting Soliloquy by Black Tongue

R - Reign of Darkness by Thy Art Is Murder

S - Soil The Stillborn by Infant Annihilator

T - Tide by Humanity’s Last Breath

U - Unholy Gravebirth by Infant Annihilator

V - Vengeance by Brand of Sacrifice

W - Waste by Black Tongue

X - World War X by Carnifex (another one that was TOUGH to find the letter for surprisingly 😂)

Y - You Will Know My Name by Arch Enemy

Z - Zerotonin 2 by Darknet (THE HARDEST LETTER FOR SOME DAMN REASON OMG)

tagging: @maybe-your-left @worm800 @i-have-a-heart-on-for-you @butyoudidthis4what @historyandfandoms50 @sacklerscumrag @mariesackler @hopeamarsu @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather @millenialcatlady @xxcatrenxx @contesa-lui-alucard @desiraypark @clydesducktape @direnightshade @han-not-solo @theoncrayjoy @ohdamnadamm @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @driversmutbucket @roanniom @jynz-andtonic @wayward-rose and whoever sees this and wants to give it a go! 🖤

#tag game #music tags #deathcore #a-z deathcore list #i may make this a playlist lmao

[bluebellhairpin]

The Arcana - Cuddles

A/N: Muriel’s route is gonna w r e c k me. - Nemo

Masterlist  

Asra Alzanar

hOMIE, you know how lethargic Asra can get, okay, don’t be surprised if ya’ll end up lounging around all day.

Faust joins. It’s fantastic until she slides around your legs “Jeez Faust, you’re gonna get kicked! You’re cold!” so she ends up sunbathing on the nearby windowsill instead. 

Asra is sooooooo lazy when it comes to days spent cuddling with you. And clingy. If you want anything you need to get it yourself, and only after you pry Asra’s arms and legs off you. If you can manage, you could probably get away with piggy-backing them around while you do the one (1) thing you needed to get out of bed for. 

Asra keeps their face smooshed into your neck. Sometimes you wonder if they’ve suffocated, but then those lazy, half-lidded eyes look up at you and you know “It’s all good. This is where I belong.”

Kisses. All of them. Everywhere. You know those lazy, open-mouthed, morning ones? Yeah, those are Asra’s specialty. 

───────✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰✧.｡:✱───────

Julian/Ilya Devorak 

Guess who the little spoon is! It's not hard! It’s him! Julian! He lives for being the little spoon okay! 

Around you, he falls asleep fast. You’re often stuck under with this dead weight called ‘Julian’ for hours. Bring a book. Or fall asleep too. Whatever you’re into. His record was five hours. All your limbs had fallen asleep after. The pins and needles were the worst. 

When he isn’t sleeping while cuddling you, he’s talking. He doesn’t stop. He can blab to you about safe dismemberment and leeches until the sun rises. (”Sweetie, I know you love cutting off limbs and stuff, but it’s 3 in the morning and I’d like to sleep a little before I work later.”) 

Hah. If you think he’s only about sleeping, and talking when you cuddle, you’re wrong. He gets a bit touchy-feeley too. (It’s Lucio’s influence. It’s rubbed off on him. It’s bad.) Hands go everywhere. So do his lips. 

He’s dealt with self-inflicted suffering for a while, but this makes him think maybe his isn't that bad. You don’t even have to say anything. He knows he doesn’t want to die without being near you one last time.

───────✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰✧.｡:✱───────

Muriel

He’s not used to this (Muriel.exe had stopped working), but oh boy, does he love it anyway.

Inanna! Like Muriel, she’s a heater. It can get pretty hot on Muriels bed, and quickly, so sometimes she get’s kicked off, but other times Muriel feels sorry for her and goes away for a moment to check on the chickens. The he comes back and puts his cold feet on you.

Like mentioned, he runs hot. You don’t like wearing lost of clothes to cuddle with him, and that can make him a red hot mess (”what do you mean you’re only wearing a shirt??”) but eventually he gets used to it and he absolutely loves the fact that he can feel the heat and softness of your skin on his in such an innocent way. 

He’s a big spoon, but only if you cradle his head against your chest while he wraps himself around your torso/legs. He likes listening to your heartbeat. 

He’s not huge on PDA, so when you get to cuddle, he shows it all then. Everything he does shows his love, and gosh it’s so nice. 

───────✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰✧.｡:✱───────

Count Lucio/Montag Morgasson 

Why would you agree to this? You think he can sit still that long?? Huh??? Did you???? He can’t????? I thought you knew that?????? 

Because someone has a short attention span (*cough*lucio*cough*) things can get a bit f r i s k y, but if you’re not in the mood just shove him away. Despite the whining and puppy-eyes, he recovers fast. With you he can change from a raging beast-monster to a little newborn chick. It’s fantastic. 

He’s expensive. He ravishes and spoils you rotten, when you cuddle is no exception. You want snacks? More pillows? Mercedes?  Melchior? What the hell you want Camio for? It’s yours, and you don’t even have to move!

He’s got this whole ‘big, bad, count lucio’ thing going on, but god help him if you offer your side to snuggle into. He’s a dead man the moment you open your arms. He’s a huge softie. 

He loves being close to you, even at parties he’ll slide up to your side and saunter around giving you a side hug for as long as you’ll allow. Days in be cuddling are his favorite. 

#the arcana x reader #asra x reader #asra headcanons #julian devorak x reader #muriel x reader #count lucio x reader #julian devorak headcanons #muriel headcanons #count lucio headcanons

[monst]

Imposter: Cafeteria

Part 4: Cafeteria 

An interactive bnha among us au:

Word count: 2k

Warnings: This series contains descriptions of murder and dismemberment, Deception and morally questionable actions, Angst and betrayal.

Tw: Death, Gore

Masterlist -> Here

Taglist: @redbeanteax​ @tspice283​ @kurinhimenezu​  @simpforeveryone @ queenlibra134 @thewheezingwyvern​ @trafalgar-temptress​

             Your ears rung, heart thumping loudly in your chest as a wave of nausea rushed through you. Your legs felt weak as you looked upon the gory scene. As soon as you tried to back up your legs crumbled beneath you, it felt as if someone had doused you with a bucket of icy water. Everything was white noise, a blur of colors passing you by but there was one color that shone the brightest. 

Red indeed traveled the farthest in the spectrum… Splotches of the liquid soiled the room, a deep crimson that was never meant to see the outside of veins. Your pupils trembled, watching as Deku held Bakugou’s damaged cranium close. Invisible tendrils squeezed at your beating heart when Deku was thrown off. The man in the splattered white suit shouted till his throat was raw as Shindo and Mirio held him down. 

Amajiki was fussing around the body… The body. Calling the blonde such a thing was terrifying. The entire situation was terrifying, Bakugou was one of the strongest men aboard, an excellent combatant, he was armed and yet there he laid. Visor cracked, body limp all the while his blood collected into a pool. The maroon liquid matched his only eye, dark and lifeless. 

“I-It looks l-like he put up quite the fight.” Tamaki managed to mumble, face pale. He unlatched the man’s helmet, glass plopping into the pool below. His once vibrant blonde strands were now matted to his skull, wet and sticky with his own fluids. HIs body was battered but the gaping hole in his skull was definitely the finishing blow. To your immense horror you caught sight of the squishy sphere by the chair in the room. Cerebral matter seeped out of the wound and Amajiki shuffled in his pockets. 

He wrapped the gauze around Bakugou’s head, all the while shadows danced underneath his eyes. Deku’s voice had grown hoarse with use, drool slipping down his jaw as he stared wide-eyed at where the Blonde laid. Mucous had tangled into his running tears further soiling what was visible of his face. Mirio and Shindo were silent. Questions burning their tongues but never leaving their lips. 

You managed to hold down your bile and stood on shaky legs. You shot a glance towards the screen and made out the time. ‘Everyone should be at the cafeteria’ you noted. Mirio seemed to catch on as he instructed Shindo to help him lift the dead weight that was now a shell shocked Midoriya. Out of respect you grabbed the wandering crimson eye, you placed the squishy membrane in your palm and a mutual understanding came across everyone in the room. 

Your eyes were downcast as you walked up the corridor, Amajiki didn’t make a single sound as he carried the lukewarm corpse, The other three walked behind him, a makeshift procession accompanied by Deku’s quiet sniffling. As soon as you turned down the last hall you saw the bright light of the cafeteria. The light hearted chatter you heard filled you with vertigo and you almost paused in step. 

You pressed on allowing the warm light of the large room to bathe your form. Your arrival didn’t catch everyone’s attention at once. Shinsou’s head was resting on the table and it was Hagakure who saw you all first. She was just stepping out of the bathroom, when her hand shot up to her mouth. Kirishima had been standing in front of the restroom chatting with Denki whilst holding the small clone. Both of them were alerted to the situation when they saw Hagakure freeze at the door. 

“Hagakure what’s wrong-” Kirishima turned his head towards you all, crimson eyes growing larger by the second. “No..”

The whisper caught Kaminari’s attention as did the drop of his mini-clone. He caught the 

small creature ready to scold the red head when he noticed the haunting expression on his face. Denki couldn’t believe the sight in front of him. And, yours eyes watered when you saw Kirishima take a tentative step forward, his arm reaching out as if to make sure what he was perceiving was in fact real. Amajiki set him down in the center of the room.

“B-Bakubro” He gasped, tumbling to the ground. Kirishima tossed his helmet, his eyes pooling over with tears. He reached out to touch him and you clenched your eyes shut. “H-Hey wake up.” 

You bit your lip trying to ignore the way Kirishima was tugging at Bakugou’s suit. “H-Haha t-this isn’t funny man.” He was shaking his arm. 

“Kirishma.” Shinsou mumbled. 

“K-katsuki..” He mumbled. “Y-you never joke around on the job, s-so why?”

“H-he’s gone Eijirou.” Kaminari cried, his arms tight around his clone as he openly sobbed. 

“N-no way. Ha w-what are you talking about Denki this.. This is Bakugou he’d never be killed by… Right? Midoriya?” His vermillion eyes looked over to the man hunched into himself. The green haired man didn’t move, or even acknowledge the words and Kirishima turned to look at the rest of you until you caught his stare. And you shook your head. 

And he crumbled. 

Tears dotted your vision at the wails of Bakugou’s intimate friends. You hadn’t known him for long but even you knew that he didn’t deserve such a merciless death. You rested your forehead on your hands as you sat at the circular table. You were joined by Amajiki, Mirio, Shinsou, Shindo and Hagakure. It was silent save for the cries of anguish. 

“W-what are we going to do with the body…” Hagakure mumbled. 

“We c-can put him in a bath of liquid nitrogen.” Tamaki replied, knowing that no one onboard would ever agree to tossing his body out into the empty vacuum. Shinsou nodded and finally asked the question. 

“What happened…” Various pairs of red rimmed eyes stared at the captain. 

“He.. He..” Deku began, not being able to finish. 

“Mirio?” Shinsou asked, “You were his teammate, what happened.” 

The blonde let out a heavy sigh, his large palm supporting his head. He let out a shaky breath before commencing. “We were in security… We were looking at the camera’s and saw (Lastname) and Tamaki walking down towards the storage room. We found it weird since they were supposed to be working on tests and Bakugou told me to go down to check it out.” He paused. “I wanted him to come with me but he said he noticed something odd and wanted to keep monitoring it. So I left him there and went to the storage room where I met up with Tamaki and (Lastname).”

“Then we talked for a bit and Tamaki and (Lastname) started freaking out about vents and we ran to the security room.. It was locked and Shindo was there trying to unlock it and when he did…”

“We found Deku in there and Bakugou’s dead body.” Shindo finished. Kirishima looked up towards Deku who held one of Bakugou’s hands in his. Watery green eyes stared into equally teary eyes. 

“I-I was in the reactor room w-when I heard him shout.” The green haired man croaked. “I ran..” He sniffled “I-If only I had been fast enough.”

“It’s a bit suspicious that the door was locked and Midoriya was in there.” Shinsou frowned. 

“Are you trying to say Deku killed him?” Kaminari gasped, a horrified look crossing his eyes. “H-he wouldn’t.”

“I-I agree he wouldn’t.” Kirishima sniffled, rubbing the back of his hand under his runny nose. 

“And why wouldn’t he?” Hagakure cut in. “The door was locked and there were no other exits, Midoriya didn’t say if he saw anyone and if he’s the Sticur’s host then it would make sense for him to take out Bakugou first.”

“I actually have to agree with Hagakure.” Shindo added. “Bakugou would have possessed the biggest threat to it, and who better to know that than someone who has been close to him since childhood. Remember they absorb all memories of their hosts.” Everyone’s attitude seemed to shift and Kirishima and Kaminari eyed the man in the white suit warily. 

“Wait.” You cut in looking towards Tamaki. “I don’t want to go around accusing the wrong person so there’s something that all of you should know. When me and Tamaki were in the Medbay we found something out. I stepped out for a while to go to the restroom to give Tamaki an extra sample and when I came back the door was locked.”

“Yes, It looks like the Sticur can hack into the ship’s motherboard and lock doors at will. The thing came out of the vent and attacked me. I would have died had the door not unlocked, then (Name) ran in and he vented.”  

“Mirio we asked you if there was a vent in the security room didn’t we?” You asked. 

“Yes, and there is. That’s when we began to run to the room.” He replied. 

“The vents?” Shinsou repeated. “I see, now let say that Deku did go in as soon as the Sticur ‘vented’ according to Bakugou’s wounds the host should be covered in..blood.”

“The way I see it Midoriya is still the most suspicious…” Hagakure mumbled. 

“Empty your pockets.” Kirishima suddenly vocalized, his eyes sharp. 

“What?” Shindo asked. “Why?”

“He was searched afterwards.” The red-head responded. “Everyone knew that he had the taser and he was just k-killed a-and I just searched him and it wasn’t on him.” 

“There’s no point in doing that.” Amajiki added. “If the Sticur grabbed it, it could have easily ingested it as to not leave evidence.”

You saw Kirishima and Kaminari wilt at the explanation. “Right, Now then Shindo, what happened according to you, you were supposed to be with Midoriya.”

“I was unlocking the Manifolds while Midoriya was on the other side of the room. Then all of a sudden I heard him take off. I didn’t follow him immediately because I was trying to finish my task. After a while I found it weird that he hadn’t returned. So I went looking for him. And that’s when I saw the door slam shut. And you know the rest.”

“....If the Sticur can vent.” Midoriya began. “Then anyone could have gotten there. I’d like to know what you four were doing.” Midoriya’s eyes were set, his eyes drowning with vengeance. 

“Me and Denki were in Navigation.” Shinsou shrugged. Kaminari nodded. 

“I stepped out for about two seconds to check in on O2 but Shinsou was there when I came back and I didn’t take long.” The electrician added. 

“Kirishima.” Midoriya asked. 

“Me and Hagakure were in the weapons room.” Kirishima informed. 

“I was downloading data.” She added. 

“But then you had to use the bathroom and I offered to stand in front of the door.”

“That’s true when I walked in Kirishima was standing outside the door waiting for Hagakure.”  Kaminari supported, Shinsou nodding. 

“Oh..” Deku sighed, feeling as if he had gotten nowhere. You saw how his eyes bore into the blonde on the ground and you frowned. You really wanted to believe him but it seemed like the evidence was stacked against him. It was then that you began to ruminate, you pulled together everyone’s narratives and somethings just weren’t adding up. Plenty of people were suspicious…

“We need to do this now.” the grave tone in which your captain said this sent a chill down your spine. “I think we’ve got enough evidence to make a decision. We need to evaluate everything and kick that son of a bitch off my vessel.”

Everyone looked around as they came to conclusions, and soon the vote’s were in and every pair of eyes stabbed at you. You had the last say and you had to agree you wholeheartedly thought that the Sticur was-

“....................”  

#bnha among us #bnha among us au #midoriya izuku #Kaminari Denki #kirshima eijirou #shinsou hitoshi #shindo yo #hagakure tooru #amajiki tamaki #Mirio Togata #bakugou katsuki #tw: death #bnha x reader

[grimalkinmessor]

Refract

(Okay, so, a friend of mine pointed out--after I pestered her for days--that she can't read things on Ao3. So I'm reposting this here so she has no excuse to deny me feedback anymore 😜 Love you, Hev!!!)

Starker - Superior Iron Man/The Spider

It was an oversight on his part.

A grevious oversight.

An oversight that was costing him time, money, and popularity. Unacceptable. Time was annoying, money was dispensable, but someone had publicly defaced his name. On his own damn building.

Unacceptable.

Tony stared up at Stark Tower with a scowl that could melt titanium. Several jittery, frightened PR agents and employees fluttered around him, not daring to get too close. At least they weren't that stupid.

"Who did this," Tony seethed. No one answered him for a beat, and his fury skyrocketed. "Who did this? I want a fucking name!" He roared as he whirled on the fidgety interns, who scattered like bowling pins in the face of his rage.

"W-We don't know, sir," A random employee in a lab coat stuttered. "The c-cameras were s-sc-scrambled, sir; they didn't catch the perpetrator. But the criminal did leave behind this." She shakily extended a black slip of cardstock, and Tony snatched it from her.

He flipped the flimsy strip of paper over to reveal a bright red spider printed in the center of the black. His lip curled up into a sneer. "A spider? Is this supposed to be a calling card?"

The woman swallowed. "With all due respect, sir," She pointed a trembling finger up at the message splattered across the stainless steel and glass of Stark Tower in drying blood, a body staked beneath it. Tony unwittingly followed her gaze. "I think that's enough of a calling card."

He's Gone

STARK

Ravin' Mad!

Tony snarled, "I'll find this bastard. And when I do, they're going to wish they'd never been born."

•🕸️•

Rumors of a mercenary called the Spider littered the darknet like candy wrappers. Attestments to his prowess, curses to his name, shaky accounts of his insanity. It was enough for Tony to put together a profile, but not enough to get an actual name.

The Spider had popped up in the merc community about six months ago, by the looks of it, and began to carve his name into the world with numerous bodies in various stages of dismemberment. Statements said that he hung around a regular haunt for mercenaries all the way in New York, but no one had ever seen his face, nor heard of a name beyond the one used as a title.

"What the hell was a merc from New York doing in San Francisco? Besides fucking up my building," Tony growled as he ripped ruthlessly through firewalls and code locks in search of more to go on.

When further digging yielded nothing, Tony nearly flipped the table over in a fit of anger. Instead, he dug his fingers deep into the lacquer his desk and drew in a deep breath. Tapping the bracelet on his wrist, Tony stood and rolled his shoulders. "JARVIS, clear my schedule for the next week. I'm going to New York."

"Shall I reschedule your meetings for next week, sir?"

"No. I wasn't going to go to them anyway. Send Pepper and her complaints to voicemail," Tony drawled as the symbiotic metal slunk up over his chest and secured itself into something solid.

"Of course, sir."

Then Tony was off to stomp on a pest.

•🕸️•

Tony Stark walking into Sister Margaret's was like a lion strolling into a herd of sheep. The entire bar immediately went silent, tension and fear thick and cloying on the back of his tongue. Tony strode across the room with easy confidence until he reached the bar itself. The crowd of unwashed murderers parted for him like the Red Sea for Moses.

Shaggy, dirty blond hair hung over thick coke bottle glasses to tangle in an even dirtier goatee. Bloodshot eyes of an unidentifiable color glanced lazily up at him. An almost imperceptible flash of tension twitched through the bartender's body, before it slumped back into a nonchalant slouch. "Can I help you, Wall Street?"

"Weasel, is it?" Tony drawled, the picture of relaxation. "I'm looking for a friend of yours."

"Friendship is for toddlers and Bronys," Weasel sneered. "Whoever you're looking for, they aren't here. Now run along back to your supermodel orgies and Extremis campaigns. Unless you have a fetish that makes you make want to rub elbows with us peasants, that is."

"Oh, but I would just love to get up close and personal with a certain arachnid of yours. Because he's already rubbed me all kinds of the wrong fucking way." Tony lashed out a hand caught Weasel by the collar of his hoodie. Almost every patron in the bar pulled a gun on him, and a few even shot. Tony glanced back dispassionately with half-lidded eyes as the bullets ricocheted off his force field and sought their way back into their owners' skulls. Six people dropped to the floor of the bar, dead. Tony sniffed and turned back to Weasel, whose calm facade had abruptly abandoned him. "You have three days to get the Spider to come to me in San Francisco, or I burn you and your establishment to the ground, understand?" He said darkly.

Weasel had gone pale, faintly green, and he looked half a second away from puking as he nodded rapidly. Tony released him and wiped his hand off of his pants with a grimace.

"Good. Three days, and then I come after you with war on my heels. Don't disappoint me."

Tony left the bar behind him and straightened out his three-piece suit with a huff. He flicked his wrist and the surveillance device he'd implanted in Weasel's phone flared to life. Sure enough, not five minutes after he'd walked out of the bar, the Bluetooth in his ear flared to life.

"Wes! What's the occasion? You calling to congratulate me? I've gotten several thank you notes in the mail these past few days—I'm famous!" A voice considerably younger than Tony expected chirped.

"You are an absolute fucking idiot that's going to get me killed," Weasel snarled back. "Do you know who just walked into my bar?"

"Kesha!"

"Tony Stark, you fucking crazy bitch," Weasel hissed. "Your little stunt on your last mark brought Zeus himself down on my ass. Now you have to get your ass down here and fix it before I strangle you."

The voice's jovial tone dipped into something black and sharp. "Careful, Jackie. You wouldn't want two demons on your ass, now would you?"

A falter, then Weasel seemed to shake it off and said, "Just get down here before I throw away all of your Gushers."

"Not my fruit snacks! You monster!"

Tony's nose scrunched up in reproach. This was the man who'd defaced his building? Well, from the sound of it, the 'man' was a boy who wasn't really all there. Not that the knowledge softened Tony's ire in the slightest.

His bracelet pinged with a location. Tony grinned, shark-like, and let his armor slough over him once more. From there, it wasn't hard to launch up and over the few streets to where the signal was originating from. Sure enough, a brief scan of the alley displayed a man with all his organs neatly arranged outside his body on the dirty concrete. A small figure was crawling along the wall of one of the buildings, away from the scene. It was a full body suit made of black spandex, which left little to the imagination. The same blood red spider symbol that had been printed on the card marred both the back and the chest of the suit. The Spider.

Bingo.

Tony dove down towards the alley and fired off a repulsor blast just in front of the figure. Recoiling back from the blast, two slim lenses of red snapped over to glare at him. Tony slid to a smooth stop just before the Spider and hummed as the merc tipped his head at him. "Hi there, Muffet. I don't think we've formally met."

The lenses flickered at him as the Spider leaned back to lounge easily on the wall. "Nope, can't say we have. But what is formality, really? It's an outrageous concept when you think about it. After all," Here, the Spider leaned forward and his mask stretched like he was smiling beneath it. "If formal was wearing a codfish on your head, would you wear it?"

The casual reference to Alice in Wonderland reignited Tony's fury at the message left on his tower. It was obviously meant as a dig. He raised his hand to fire off another repulsor blast right at the Spider's face, but instead of looking scared, the brat just draped an arm dramatically over his face like a fainting maiden.

"Oh my, mister, please don't shoot me," He bemoaned in a theatrical southern bell impression. He fanned his mask with his other hand, only held up by his feet as he swooned. "I don't think I could take you teasing me so."

Before Tony could disperse the cloud of confusion the Spider's rambling had incited, the brat flipped off the wall and onto Tony's shoulders. One hand keeping his balance, the other reached between the shoulder slats and wrenched out a handful of wires. The suit guttered.

"Oops! Hope you didn't need those," the Spider sang as he backflipped off Tony and onto the nearest roof. The suit quickly made up for the lost tech, but it was enough of a stall for the Spider to vanish, "It hasn't been a pleasure, Stark! Buh-bye!" Called over his shoulder.

•🕸️•

Tony was infuriated.

He was known as the unbeatable, the untouchable, the one not to be outwitted. He was Tony fucking Stark.

And yet in his first altercation with what had to be a middle level threat, he hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise, much less actually make a move. It tore at his pride until he became obsessed, tearing through archives and sending scans through voice recognition for something—something that would give him leverage.

Which he shouldn't have even fucking needed in the first place.

But no, there was nothing. Nothing but the memory of a glittery voice laughing in his ear, the stretch of black spandex over distinctive muscle that made Tony take more bedpartners than normal, growling angry obscenities into the sheets as he took everything out on his conquests—both his rage, and his lust. It left them bruised and limping away from him after, a spooked look in their eyes. It just made Tony angrier.

Three days ticked by with nothing. Then, just when Tony was fully ready to go blast Sister Margaret's into next week, about to take off towards New York, an encrypted email pinged into his inbox. It was an address.

'Do not tell him I gave this to you. If you can't kill him, then I don't want him coming after me. Frankly, I'm more scared of him than I am of you. I just don't want you nuking my bar.

—W'

Tony bared his teeth in a savage grin, triumph blooming hot in his chest. The slight niggle of indignance in the back of his mind—the brat was hardly more intimidating than him—went ignored. Address loaded into his suit, he shot off towards Queens.

•🕸️•

The side of the building exploded beneath the force of the blast Tony directed at it. He flew forward and could have laughed in delight when the sound of a familiar voice cursing reached his ears. The dust began to clear as Tony ventured confidently into the rubble. A rough bout of coughing drew Tony's eye towards the far wall, which had collapsed on top of a waifish figure that was struggling to pull themselves up.

Wild brown eyes snapped up to glare at him, plush lips twisted into a snarl that bared actual fangs. "You bastard," That same shimmering voice rasped, scraped raw with pain. "You destroyed my lab!"

"You hung a dead guy from my tower," Tony replied as he made his way forward, head tipped to the side curiously.

"Oh don't tell me you're mad that I killed one of your chairmen." Doe eyes rolled as the kid shook out the dust from his curls. He had freckles. Tony drew his tongue across his bottom lip, intent. "I doubt you have actual emotions as it is. You didn't even know he worked for you, I bet," He said daringly as he twisted to try and push the wall off of him.

"You smeared viscera all over my name. Literally," Tony growled as he stalked even closer.

"If it makes you feel any better, it wasn't actually about you," the Spider drawled as he began to heft the wall up with the barest of strains. A mutant.

It decidedly did not.

Tony raised an arm and fired off a slip of liquid metal. It landed on the piece of wall the Spider was levering and quickly forced it back down. He wheezed as the full force of Stark tech crushed back into his chest. Tony stopped to look over the pinned bug, brow raised. He leaned down to better take in the amber shine of narrowed eyes, the sprinkle of freckles across a button nose, the endearing tangle of coffee curls draped over dark spider-leg lashes. He took in the sharpness of those bared fangs, then admired the petal pink softness of those lips. Tony wondered if he defanged the little pest, if they would grow back. More relevantly, how quickly would they grow back, and if he could fit his cock between those lips in the recovery time.

He leaned down even further. "Did you really think that you could get away with defaming me?"

A wide, broken glass grin cut up at him. "What're you gonna do, big man? You gonna toss me off a building? Threaten my loved ones? I don't have any!"

Just then, JARVIS chimed in his ear, "Facial recognition scan complete, sir. The Spider's true identity is one Peter Benjamin Parker."

"Peter Parker, huh?" Tony mused with a grin. The feral amusement slid off the Spider's face, and he went pale. "Let's call your bluff, Spidey. Any extended family, J?"

"All deceased, sir. But records display what appears to be a close friend of Parker's: Harry Osborn."

Tony smirked, "Is that so?"

He expected Parker to blanch further, maybe even make a bid for his friend's life, but to his surprise, Parker just tossed his head back and laughed, long and loud and unhinged. He gasped for air in between cackles, and Tony flicked his fingers in annoyance. The metal pressed the wall down harder, and Parker wheezed out a last delirious giggle. "You think I give a single shit about that piece of literal fucking human garbage? You're grasping at straws, Red Queen!"

Tony wasn't deterred. "I'd say something witty involving 'off with your head', but I've come to the realization that I don't actually want you dead," He mused as he propped his boot on the wall as well, just because he was feeling vindictive.

Parker raised an eyebrow, both wary and intrigued. It probably wasn't very often that people declared that they didn't want to kill him. He searched Tony's face with eyes that had lost their earlier giddy sheen. In their place were two hard shards of topaz, much more intelligent than the madness he'd observed before. "Then how do you want me, Executioner?"

"At my feet," Tony hissed as he fired a second slip of metal right at the kid's face. It was a sedative, one that worked instantly and wore off only when the tech was removed.

Parker was out like a light.

•🕸️•

However tempted he was to tie Parker to his bed, Tony wasn't an idiot. The casual strength the brat had displayed would hardly be the only mutation Parker had up his sleeve, and Tony didn't want his house trashed. So he tossed Parker into the cell he'd created to house the Hulk, then left to give himself a congratulatory glass of Scotch, leaving JARVIS with orders to notify him when Parker woke.

Tony poured himself three fingers of Scotch, feeling like he'd caught a wild panther. He had wrangled a wild animal into a cage, a collar ready to be fastened around its neck, but the challenge of taming the beast looming overhead left a tingle of thrill in his chest.

He wanted to break Parker, to weigh down his limbs until he could lift nothing heavier than a butterfly, to cut up his sharp tongue beyond repair, to pry out his fangs and carve away the stores of venom likely resting in his jaw until he was nothing more than a pretty bauble for Tony to admire.

(There was a small part of him—very, very small—that lamented that Peter would become disgustingly boring should he lose those things. That suggested that he cap the fangs instead of removing them, just to let Peter try to bite him, try to end him, and watch that sweet face blossom in rage when nothing came of it. Wanted to hear him curse and watch metal twist beneath those delicately small hands as he railed against Tony, oh so powerful and yet oh so his. Fashion a sign that read 'Beware of Spider' because a pet he wanted but a beast he'd gained. See those amber eyes burn up at him because that helpless rage was a thing of beauty. The part of him that acknowledged that part of Peter's appeal was that he was a beast, a monster, and Tony wanted to make him kneel.)

(Not that he would ever admit it.)

"Sir, Mr. Parker is awake." JARVIS intoned, a bit ruffled if Tony was reading that tone correctly.

"Awake and lively, I assume." Tony tossed back the rest of his drink and wiped the corners of his mouth with his fingers as he made his way back down to the cell.

JARVIS didn't answer, but he didn't need to. Tony came in sight of the cell just as he heard a loud bang echo down the hall. Peter had apparently thrown himself at the wall. They held up, of course. The brat may have super strength but he was no Hulk.

He stilled when Tony came closer, poised to leap again at the walls, fangs bared. Though the window into the room was mirrored, Peter's head snapped to the side and focused with startling accuracy on Tony. Slowly, he straightened out of his crouch and turned towards the mirror. His head tipped, puppy-like.

"Do you think you can hold me?" Came the soft inquiry with an innocent blink of those doe eyes.

"Yes, actually." Tony didn't bother with the microphone. The kid's senses were enhanced—he could probably pick out Tony's heartbeat through the four foot reinforced concrete. "I'm doing it right now."

"You're letting your technology do the holding for you," Peter spat back. "Because you know you aren't man enough to grapple with me face to face."

Tony's lips twitched. "Does goading usually get you what you want?"

Instead of getting angry, or denying the blatant manipulation tactic, Peter smirked at him, amused. "Yes, actually. Wes can't stand it."

The gleeful note to his voice made something in Tony's chest flicker. He drew his tongue along his bottom lip in thought, wondering. "So what are you, Peter Parker?"

He, of course, meant the mutations. He had never seen a mutant that could do what the Spider could do. He could stick to walls, he could spin actual webs, he could lift things easily ten times his own weight, not to mention his bite was most likely lethal. Almost all mutations manifested in a latent gene of some sort, one that had to be put under stress to become active. The gene was not all-encompassing. It gave one gift, and no matter how powerful, it was still only one. Peter had at least five.

But Peter didn't take it that way. He beamed at Tony through the glass and began to him to himself, swaying in place to a silent rhythm. "I am what happens when an angel falls from the sky. I am what happens when goodness realizes that good and evil do not truly exist. I am that one that dared to ask why a God sits on his throne, and lead a third of his children down into the chasm with me." He drew his arms sensually up his sides, cupped his throat, and ended with his hands tangled in his messy curls. He grinned at Tony, eyes half-lidded, taunting. "Do you think yourself a God, Stark?"

The conversation he'd had with Murdock rang in his ears like the high of a church bell. A damning, indisputable truth.

"No use thinking when I know," Tony drawled, heart thudding calmly in his chest. But Peter seemed to hear the flutter of his excitement anyway, known what he was thinking, because his grin widened.

"Mayhaps this was supposed to be the ultimate battle!" Peter tossed his arms high. He began to twirl across the room, light on his toes, humming erratically. "God versus Man! Or, well, it would have been, had poor Daredevil been up to the task. But alas, he fell to the temptation of sacrificial miracles—the taste of the rainbow! Let's call him Skittles from now on, yeah? But if Man won't kill God,"

Peter slung to a stop in front of the glass, a small palm smacked up against the glass, and it cracked. The Spider grinned, predatory.

"Then the Devil will do it."

Adrenaline flooded Tony's veins, made his teeth buzz in expectation—an urge to bite. "Are you forgetting Revelations?"

"Hardly," Peter trilled, ecstatic. "I don't need to win to ruin you, baby. I can the devastation to your reform! Besides, I like you much better than the other one. A Martyr. Please." His eyes rolled as his fingers scraped along the hairline fissures in the glass which had, until that moment, been bulletproof. "But you're not him. You're not Jesus—you're Judas. Ready to sell out the world for a few slips of paper that ultimately will amount to nothing. You are...pure greed," He breathed, enraptured even as his eyes darkened.

"And you think you can stop me? You're a child," Tony sneered, but it was a front for the surge of angry hunger that had roared to life in his chest. He ached with the need to press his fingers around that pale, flawless column of flesh and stain his mark upon it. Take that odd, rapturous insanity and breathe it into his lungs. Brand it back into Peter's skin with his mouth. Mine.

"I saw the way you looked at me, Stark. I can feel it right now," Peter sighed pleasantly as he continued to stroke his fingers down the glass. "The temptation that will allow me to strangle your empire from the inside out. Press my knives to your skin and snip it from the roots." He crooned.

"Oh please, baby," Tony purred. "We both know you don't actually give a shit about me taking over the world. You profit off other people's anger. You can't have the moral high ground. Your hands are covered in blood."

Peter slammed his hand into the glass again, hard, and the glass splintered. It pierced his skin, drew blood to paint its way down his wrist. He started humming again, louder. "Hmmm, you can't fix your broken promise, our ties have come undone; your lies fool no one. You can't offer your poison to me, in your kingdom of filth," He sang, high and eerie. He grinned, fangs bared. He leaned his head against the glass, pupils blown, and looked up at Tony through his lashes as he murmured, "You're just afraid to get your hands dirty."

"Oh but I don't need to," Tony breathed, giddy. "Not when I have you to do it for me." Without further ado, Tony spun on heel and began to stalk away, back turned on Peter's sudden snarl.

•🕸️•

When Tony pulled himself from beneath the rubble of his building three days later, the Spider's farewell still sparkling in his ears, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Forgot to tell you, I hid some bombs around here when I left Louie up there on your sign. My bad. Payback's a bitch, baby. But really, you could use some redecoration—far too much white. Red's more my color, for future reference, though I'm going to assume you knew that." The recording had mused, suit reaquired as black, clawed fingers toyed with the leather strip of red around his throat. He'd blown a kiss at the screen, the brat, and then the explosion behind him had cut out the feed.

Laughter rang from Tony's chest, light and toxic, and he turned his dusty face to the sky and grinned. A predator, a chase—a hunt.

"I'm going to fucking kill him."

#now feed me critism heaven #starker #superior iron man #the spider #superior starker #evil spiderman #my writing #refract

[hermitcraft9]

dream smp animatic w the bridge of the dismemberment song dream talking 2 tommg "well once upon a time thats where the plot begins, and right afer it ends well thats where the plot thins" ok? referencing how hes god and a big part of this arcs script was written by him. & when he goes "ive got no angel to keep me in line" hes referring to wilbur as tommys angel (not to mean wilbur was exactly angeloc but more the "keep me in line" part; i think dream thinks if tommy didnt have anyone who was there for him he wouldnt have "kept in line" yknow???) and then "so im taking your narrative and im making it mine" dream took the story and focused it on himself for once but tommy is still the main character so all dream could do in the situation he put himself in (starting all the way at he first disc war) was make himself the bad guy "cause im all out of hurt you used up all i got" 2 be the bad guy dream had to ive up literally everything he cared about so they couldnt be taken advantage of and used against him "so im chopping you up and still coming up squat" he thinks his own "attachment" to tommy will help fill the void of the things he gave up but it Sure Doesnt and is in fact his undoing. cut 2 dream in prison "if i wanted to bleed id just roll up my sleeve and saw and saw etc" dream hoppin into that lava I SWEAR IM NOT A C!DREAM APOLOGIST I LITERALLY HATE HIM I JUST THINK HES AN INTERESTING CHARACTER

#wilbur.txt #self harm tw #ask to tag

[saturninespace]

hhh i got tagged by @krabpopz and @kebinnipple to spell my url w my favorite songs–

S - seven nation army - glitch mob remix

A - animal - sir chloe

T - the dismemberment song - blue kid

U - ??

R - rich, white, straight men - kesha

N - nobody - mitski

I - i'm yer dad - grlwood

N - new blood - zayde wølf

E - entomologists - ghost

S - sad bitch - ic3peak

P - pazi sta radis - hingamo project remix

A - another way out - hollywood undead

C - crybaby - destroy boys

E - everything i wanted - billie eilish

i tag @max-arioni @bobblydoctor and @the-teeth-collector

#ayden's anecdotes #tagged tag

[robinsdoghouseofwhump]

Blackfire

Part 6 with @fallingstormphoenix! I've been having soooooo much fun writing with him. Believe me, we've been writing boatloads of stories for a few weeks now. Without further ado, Occuldous and Arron!

Occuldous slept for only a few hours before the nightmares woke him. He doesn’t cry out, just curls up under the covers, trembling. 

"O-Occie?" The sound of the demon's voice echoed in the room. "C-can I sleep with you? I ummm… don't have to if you don't wanna."

 Occuldous poked his head out and nodded. Arron! The company would be good, it might stave off the nightmares and the things in the corner of his vision. He scooted over to make room for him.

The demon smiled, sitting down and crawling under the covers next to him. "Nightmare again? I have those too." 

 He nodded and curled up beside his friend. I missed you so much. I thought a lot about here when Hugo had me. It hurts less when you think about good things. 

"Do you umm… wanna talk about it?" Arron looked down. "I-I'm sorry you don't wanna talk… I didn't mean to make you upset."

 I’m sorry, I can’t. words aren’t for me… I’m sorry...  He leaned his head against his arm, his broken horn digging into his shoulder. He hoped that Arron would understand, he wasn’t mad at him, he was just scared and hurt and he was trying to be good.

"Uhm… uh.. Q-Quin says hi…" Arron smiled a little and handed him the stuffed animal, "I'm sorry you had a bad dream. Can I make it better?" Arron paused… for a moment. "My umm… my third master hated it when I talked too… i-is that why?"

He held the stuffed animal close to his chest and nodded. “W-words a-a-aren’t f-f-for m-m-mut-ttts.” He stuttered, shaking from the effort of speaking. He cringed, covering his head with his arms and trembling violently. 

"I-It's ok, you aren't a mutt! Y-you're my friend Occie!" Arron leaned in and wrapped his arms around him hesitantly. "F-friends can talk."

 Occuldous shook his head, pressing his face against Arron’s shoulder. “I-i c-can’t.” He whimpered. Master will be mad. He’ll hit me and cut me, and drown me. W-words aren’t for mutts. I-I don’t deserve to speak, I-I’m j-just a tool. 

"I um… I love you Occie. Thank you for being here… I missed you." 

Occuldous nodded and hugged him tightly. I missed you too. I’m sorry. I-i-im trying! I’m trying! 

"Do you wanna go back to sleep? I can stay with you, to keep you safe." 

 He shook his head and pointed at the window. Outside? Please? The stars should be beautiful tonight. 

"Outside? Ok! Can you walk?" 

 He nodded, getting up slowly, leaning on the bed for balance. He leaned his head on Arron when he came over to him. Thank you. It hurts, my legs hurt. 

"Do you need help?" Arron asked, looking at his friend worriedly.

Occuldous nodded, please?

"Hold on then," The demon smiled as he grabbed the other's arm tightly, leading him out the window and up the roof. 

Occuldous leaned on him, starting up at the sky, his freckles starting to glow faintly. He sat down slowly and painfully, then waved for Arron to sit beside him, which the demon happily obliged to. 

"Pretty huh?" Arron laid down next to the starwitch, letting the night air overtake his body. "What's your favorite constellation?" 

He pointed at the Big Dipper, tracing along the handle to the North Star. He then traced the same constellation along his collarbone, looking up at Arron happily. He touched Arron’s temple carefully, giving him the chance to pull away. 

“Thank you.” Occuldous nudged the thought into Arron’s mind. Directly under the starlight, he was able to channel the energy straight into some of his newer abilities. He didn’t have the energy reserve to be able to do it on his own anymore. 

"W-woah, you can talk like that?" Arron said, startled. "Is that new?" 

 He nodded. He took Arron’s hand in his own, once again giving him the chance to pull away, and carefully scratched it with a fingernail, leaving a tiny line of blood on the back of his hand. He closed his eyes and concentrated, then very gently placed his hand over the little wound. His palm glowed faintly, and when he pulled away, there was no evidence of the scratch at all. He smiled at him proudly. 

“You can heal too!?” Arron pulled away, then thought for a moment. “Th-then why are you hurt still?” 

 He shook his head and placed his palm over a small, partially healed wound on his own broken arm. He closed his eyes and concentrated, his palm glowing again. There was a crackling sound, his eyes filled up with tears and he started trembling, then pulled his hand away. The wound was deeper and his bone was bent at a painful angle. He whimpered,  holding his arm close to his chest, keening softly. If he tried to heal himself, it would only undo anything that his body had already done.

“N-no! Don’t do that Occie! Please don’t hurt yourself! Please!” Arron panicked and grabbed the boy’s arm. “I- I can make it better, kinda….” The demon produced a black flame, it flicked around his fingertips and was devoid of any light. “L-let me do it, please Occie?” 

Occuldous whimpered and pulled away, scared of the flame. No no no no, please don’t burn me. 

“I-it won’t hurt! See?” The demon took the flame and let it engulf his arm, earning a sigh from Arron in response. “It’s just super warm, like when its summer!”

 Occuldous offered his arm hesitantly, whimpering softly.

The black flame danced over his arm, the warmth was comforting for a moment then became unbearably hot. Occuldous let out a cry of pain and scrambled away from Arron. 

  “PLEASE DON”T HURT ME!” The thought is loud and sharp, ladened with a lifetime of pain and fear, crashing it’s way into anyone nearby’s head with the force of a tsunami, followed with a telepathic shriek of terror.

“Ah! Wait! No!” Arron pulled back. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” The demon was knocked down from the splitting headache penetrating his skull, struggling to stop himself from screaming. 

Occuldous scrambled away as fast he could, hiding behind an AC unit on the roof. He held his injured arm close to his chest, keening painfully. 

-

Bang 

Screaming 

"What the hell?!" Abel looked up at the ceiling, where the sounds were coming from. "Arron?! Occuldous?!" The angel ran to the window and climbed the fire escape. 

Occuldous was huddled behind the AC unit, having a panicked meltdown. Abel could feel the fear rolling off him,and every few seconds he was struck with telepathic broken-off panicked pleas for mercy.

“Please don’t drown me, please, beat me, b-brand me, break my legs, m-my arms, f-fingers again, please J-just not d-drowning. I’m s-sorry so so sorry Master, I-I’m b-bad, I-I did bad!” Occuldous’ thoughts pleaded, interspersed with wordless whimpers and sobs. 

"Occuldous…." Abel walked over and crouched in front of the boy. "I'm here little one, what happened?" The angel looked down and saw the burn marks on the Starwitch's arm, noticing the distinct patterns on it as he turned to Arron with an angry, almost fiery glint in his eyes. 

 Occuldous whimpered, pressing his body against the AC unit, trying to hide from him. 

  But went Abel turned towards Arron, his body went tense with a protective instinct. Abel could easily kill his friend for this, and while he knew, in a way, that he wouldn’t, he could still feel the anger and his guts twisted in fear. 

Occuldous growled a little, the first aggressive sound Abel had ever heard from him. “Don’t hurt him!” The piercing thought was more like a command than a plea.

Abel quickly grabbed the boy's chin and tipped it to make their eyes meet. "Don't. I'm not gonna hurt him. Tell me what happened. Now." Abel's voice was calm, but hard as a rock. "I want words." 

 Occuldous whimpered now that the attention was back on him. He tried to explain, his thoughts tumbling over themselves. “I-I-i was s-showing h-him my magic, s-sorry, I-I’m sorry s-so sorry. I-I-i h-hurt myself, h-he w-wanted to h-help…” 

"Occuldous, do you know what angels are really good at?" Abel frowned at the boy, still upset. 

 Occuldous shook his head, but Abel caught flashes of him imagining awful things like being sent to hell, or dismemberment, or being torn from his physical body. 

"You're lying to me little one, aren't you?" Abel looked at the boy with piercing blue eyes. 

 Occuldous’ eyes went wide and his already pounding heart starting beating so fast Abel could see his veins pulsating with his heartbeat. “I’m sorry! I’m n-not lying, I’m not I’m not…. I-I hurt myself, h-he w-was trying to help! H-he didn’t mean it…”

"Did he burn you? Why did you hurt yourself?" Abel grabbed the arm, now slightly charred on the wound. 

 Occuldous let out a little sob of pain at the touch but didn’t pull away. He put his hand on an old healed scar on the same arm and concentrated as hard as he could through the pain and fear. His palm glowed and he pulled it away after a moment, revealing a fresh-looking knife wound. He looked up at Abel, hoping he’d understand. He was quickly weakening and Abel could no longer hear his panicked thoughts. 

"Occuldous, you don't do that to your body." Abel picked the boy up gently. "Don't do it again ok? Or I will have to punish you." 

 Occuldous whimpered and nodded obediently. 

"Arron, you're in big trouble young man. You're gonna help me fix him." Abel carried the boy down to the fire escape. 

 Occuldous whined softly and pressed his face against Abel’s chest. He was tired, so tired. He just wanted to sleep. He worried he would not be allowed outside at night anymore and all his powers would slowly fade away. He feared that maybe Abel would be so mad at him now he would send him back.

"Shhh, go to sleep bud, it's ok. I'm right here." Abel smiled at the boy as he carried him to his room. 

 He let his eyes close but all his fear and pain wouldn’t let him actually sleep, so he just slumped in Abel’s arms, limp and quiet, in hopes he could let the dark swallow him before anything more painful happened. 

"What can I do to help bud?" Abel laid the boy down.  

He offered his broken arm to him. It was what hurt the most. 

"Ok, let me see." The angel gently took hold of the charred and broken arm, earning a few keens and whines in response from the boy. "I'll try to heal it, but I don't know if it'll work or not." 

 Occuldous whimpered and pulled back a little bit. He didn’t know if the angels magic would interact badly with his own.

"Hey, its ok bud, don't worry." Abel's fingertips glowed with white light as he went to work on the arm.

He was flinchy but didn’t pull away. The surface wounds healed and his bone started to as well, with a wet crunching noise that pulled an exhausted raspy scream from Occuldous.

"Shshsh… almost done, I know it hurts baby." Abel managed to get the wound closed up and he let go of the boy. "There, all better."

 Occuldous curled up, trying to hide under the blankets and pillow.

"I think its bedtime again little one. You seem exhausted."”

He whimpered softly and nodded under the pillow.

“Ok, then let's get you to sleep.” Abel slowly let his hand rest on the boy's forehead. Sleep Sleep Sleep. 

Occuldous recoiled from the invasion of thoughts but quickly slumped and was snoring in seconds. 

"Good boy, sleep well little one.

 

 Occuldous slept through the rest of the night, peaceful under the influence of the angel magic.

[notmrskennedy]

Likeability

(GN!Reader x Spencer Reid)

A/N - I’ve rewritten this thing like six freaking times but oh well - I hope it at least goes over better than the last - please be gentle 

Summary - The team meets a very dislikable scientist that Spencer seems to fancy

W/C - 2.8k

Warnings - brief anatomy/bones/etc mentions (our scientist is a forensic anthropologist-ish) & a dash of swearing

Important! - this is the FIRST ending and the alternative ending that you’ll like a lot more will come along in the next day or so

----

Luke is holding his stomach in his hands. He could usually pride himself on keeping his cool, keeping his head—and stomach—together during a case. He’d seen enough dead bodies that this shouldn’t have thrown him like he’d just sailed twelve foot waves in a dingy. 

But he is, after all, standing over a mass grave. Watching a too giddy scientist dig up the bodies. 

You’ve captured everyone’s attention, for various reasons. Rossi is vaguely amused by your joyous shouting of bones and your rat moustached assistant. Luke can’t tear his eyes away from the car wreck—are you supposed to swing bones around like baseball bats? Reid seems more interested in your bad jokes and coveralls than he is in solving the case. 

The rat assistant—Stewart Walsh—squeezes between Luke and Reid, scuttling like some kind of diseased turtle. “Doctor Y/L/N!”

You barely stop pouring over the mud covered pelvis in your hands to even acknowledge him. 

“I just thought you should know that Dr. Evanston just got here.”

You look up, toss the bone to him, and snort. “Tell him the soil samples are four miles due east from here.”

“What’s wrong with Evanston?” Luke asks to no one in particular it seems, waving Stewart off to run for a group of approaching nerds in coveralls. 

Ignoring the question or maybe Luke, you just turn back to your search. Elbow deep in mud, being nice must not have been on the to-do list. Reid leans over, hands in his pockets, and whispers, “Evanston stole one of her research papers. I thought he was going to get his teeth kicked in—“

“Skull!” you holler. Luke isn’t stupid enough to miss the glare reserved for the sheepish Dr. Reid.

He clears his throat. “Thoughts so far, doctor?”

“I’m thinking beetles,” is all you say before turning back to your skull. Luke might not know many scientists, but he doesn’t think that most of them look at human skulls like its the Mona Lisa. Like this fat piece of bone held the answers to the universe inside its empty eye sockets. 

“Beetles?” Luke coughs. Rossi just shakes his head. Pretends this isn’t a conversation he’s having. Reid is still studying you like Luke might study infiltration schematics. Stewart runs up, out of breath, very rose coloured. 

You’re eyes are sparkling as you wade over to them with a new radius bone in your hands. Everyone bends like they know what they’re looking at and you point along the edge of the bone. “It’s a subtle difference but these bones have been cleaned before being buried. My guess is carrion beetles. They’re very hard workers. And—“ you switch to pointing at the radial head— “minute scoring and kerf marks. These look pretty old, so I’m assuming we’re getting close to the bottom.”

“So our unsub dismembered his victims,” Rossi begins, “then cleaned the pieces?”

You nod and hand off the bone to a very blushing Stewart. “I won’t know for sure until I’ve had a chance to examine all the bones. There’s nothing definitive yet. What a hobbyist though, right?”

You chuckle to yourself and dive back into fishing out more finger and wrist bones. Luke turns, runs his hands over his face, and hikes a thumb over his shoulder. “Where did we find her?”

Rossi shrugs, “FBI easter egg hunt.” Luke blinks, while Rossi chuckles at his gullibility. “Come on, the doctor’s the best in the field. Good kid, I can tell.” 

“Y/N’s great,” Spencer absently adds on, too busy staring at you. You’re explaining different types of dismemberment to Stewart like you’re discussing the rain. Luke grips onto his stomach just a little tighter. 

“Y/N, huh?” Luke teases, momentarily forgetting the unsettling feeling in his gut about you. “You two, uh, friends or something?”

It’s Reid’s turn to stumble. “Yeah, but it’s—we’re just—we’re just—.” 

Rossi shakes his head, slaps Reid on the shoulder. “Oh yeah, just friends. So, tell me. Do you talk about dismemberment before or after you make out?”

#

JJ wants to beg Emily not to make her go down into the basement. You’re down there. She knows it’s childish to be this avoidant—you are just a person after all. A creepy, psychopathic weirdo that makes JJ’s gut churn. She gets why Spencer’s taken to you—shared love of science and random trivia. She does. But that doesn’t mean JJ enjoys the cold ass morgue, smiling along as you ramble. Most of everyone’s limited contact with you has involved random facts and Stewart’s too intimate knowledge of fracture patterns. 

There had been ten minutes of reassurance from Emily that you were, in fact, not a horrible person. Ended with JJ making the cold and dark trek down to the morgue. She couldn’t imagine working down here all day long. No one to talk to, no one to strategise with, no where to go. Maybe it suited you. No one would have to listen. 

“—don’t know what to do!” echoes across the bottom of the stairwell, the morgue’s doors cracked open. The distress breaks JJ’s heart. Your voice stops her dead in her tracks.  

“They don’t hate you,” Spencer’s voice comes after. Gentler, softer. “They—they just don’t know you yet.”

“They don’t want to, Spence!” and JJ winces with the words. It always hurt more when the truth came out in that tone. “I get it! You know? I work with human remains and don’t bring my people skills with me when I’m on the job, but—that shouldn’t matter!” 

JJ winces again, tries to ignore how those are nothing short of teary sniffles echoing through her ears. She leans back against the wall and has no idea what to do. Spencer had obviously been down here for hours. Knew you well enough to get the teary truth. What could she do now? Interrupt? 

She’d walked into hostage situations less freakin’ stressful than this. 

“You’re right,” Spencer soothes, steadfast and strong, “it doesn’t matter. This isn’t—“

“It’s not your fault,” you sigh. JJ doesn’t want to hear the strangled touch to your voice. Doesn’t want to hear the break. “They’re your friends and I’m just your—“ 

 “Doctor!” Stewart calls and JJ could scream. You’re his what? 

At least, it’s as good as any moment to intrude. 

“What, Stewart?” you snapped, already broken away from Spencer with wet cheeks and stained glasses. You wipe them off haphazardly with the tail end of Spencer’s sweater sleeve—JJ couldn’t help but smile, even if it’s a little strangled. 

Stewart jumps like a wet cat and tosses a bundle of files into your hands. “Beetles.”

One word snatches the tears from your face. Snatches you away from Spencer’s side for one of the dozen skeletons on the tables. There was no reason to think that she’ll get her report from you now. With a rib bone in one hand and contemplation in your features—JJ can’t decide how unnerved she is—you’re a little too concentrated. 

Stewart scuttles around you. A little too attentive. A little too cherry tinted. Yep. No reports to be had from either of you. JJ turned to Spencer instead, hoping that maybe he’d be helpful. Plastered up like a billboard, JJ knows that saccharine smile isn’t going to get her anywhere. 

“Spence?”

He hums, halfheartedly tearing his eyes away. “Yeah?”

“I need the latest report for Emily, but I don’t think—“

“I’ll—just a second, JJ.” Spencer grins, sugary sweet, and slips away. JJ doesn’t miss how he places a hand on your shoulder as he passes. How you barely even notice that quite intimate contact. She also doesn’t miss how Stewart’s face sours at the action, how his eyes narrow enough that Spencer feasibly should’ve noticed. 

Reports in hand a minute later, JJ leans over to Spencer. Elbows him in the arm. “Stewart seems pretty jealous. Any reason for that?”

Spencer shrugs. “Wouldn’t know a thing about it.”

#

Rossi doesn’t have an opinion. Everyone keeps asking—oh Rossi, you’re the wisest of us all, what should we do about poor little Y/N? He doesn’t know, doesn’t care. You are just some scientist who is doing a thousand percent better job than any other forensics ‘expert’ he’s had the pleasure of working with. 

Your lab doesn’t smell. You don’t smell. Is there anything more to ask for? 

But he does get the brute of having to make the trek down to the morgue—god, his knees alone—and receives most of the reports from the not as horrible as everyone thinks Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. Who is joyfully humming while squinting over one of the skeleton’s hands. 

“Hey, doc,” he calls and you look up at him with an adorable sort of grin. “Got anything new?”

“Sure,” you chirp. Hesitate to wave him over. “If you want the details, that is.”

Rossi shakes his head, pulls up a stool to sit next to you and your subject. “I like to have as much knowledge as I can. You never know what will lead you to your un-sub.”

You settle your elbows on the table, straighten a stray finger bone. The team shouldn’t be worried about you being a psychopath. You’re dedicated, careful, attentive. Rossi hopes that if he ever gets turned into human remains, you’re the one looking over him. There’s been more care put into one skeleton than into his three combined marriages. 

“You’re in luck,” you answer, “I’ve got a lot to tell you about our attacker. You’ve got time, right?”

Rossi nods, smiles. “Plenty.”

#

Penelope still hasn’t met you and that kind of pisses her off. You haven’t made it upstairs once? She flies into some dingy Wyoming hovel of a police station for like a week and no one’s thought to bring you upstairs? Rude. 

She’s sitting in JJ’s desk chair, waiting for her and Luke to get back from interviewing a potential lead—some ex-felon who fit your makeshift profile. Reid’s scouring over some boring geographical profile, trying not to get annoyed as she nervously—angrily—rants about the case to him. She knows he’s tuning her out, but her work’s been put on the back burner until someone comes up with something to give her. 

There’s only so much a computer can find and she’s no profiler. 

It’s about five minutes after Reid snapped and left to get a coffee refill, when she picks up a call from the desk. “Hello?”

Creaking metal and shuddering breathing comes first. “Set the scalpel down” comes second.  She swallows, silent, and panicking. What the heck is she supposed to do? Paying attention to those hostage negotiation seminars that she definitely didn’t go to would’ve come in handy right about now. 

Said scalpel clatters onto some metal table, followed by a strong, “You really don’t want to do this. Please put the gun down.”

Oh god, this is happening. 

“You just—“ a male voice snips, bellowing out, “YOU DON’T LOOK AT ME.”

“I do look at you, Stewart,” you plead just as JJ and Luke clamour through the bullpen’s door. Penelope puts the call on speaker, mutes it, and screams for them. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Penelope sobs professionally, “someone’s got a gun.”

JJ runs for Emily’s office while Reid returns heedlessly. Luke puts a soft hand on Penelope’s cold one and squeezes. Newbie or not, it’s appreciated as the man’s voice returns. “I’ve tried for so long to get you to—to just—just look at me! I’ve done so much!”

“I know, Stewart,” you ease and Reid tenses. Nearly drops his coffee. “It’s not your fault. You’ve worked so hard.”

“Yeah,” Stewart sobs; Penelope can only imagine how crazy this kid must be. 

“Did you leave all those bodies for me, Stewart?” you question and everyone holds their breath. Luke squeezes harder on her hand. Reid’s twitching like a rabbit’s nose, a death grip on his mug, frozen as a Michigan pond. 

Stewart sniffles. Probably nods. Penelope doesn’t know whether to run or sit or cry. She decides it’s probably cry, but instead her fingers start moving to record the call, trace the office origin. 

“It was a great puzzle, Stewart, it was really genius. It was a fun case to follow, you know that.” You swallow hard, metal tinkles through the speaker. Please, Penelope begs, don’t let them kill each other. I haven’t met the doctor yet!

“Why did you kill these girls, Stewart?” your voice is so gentle and lulling Penelope almost forgets that she’s listening to you try to save your own life. 

 “I wanted you to look,” he says, sniffles. “I wanted you. I want you, Y/N. I want you to love me.”

It’s either her computer beeping or someone falling through a table or a gunshot. She doesn’t know. She’s crying too hard to care. 

#

Tara doesn’t know when she started to run—probably just after JJ, Luke, and Reid barrelled passed her by the bathroom shouting about the situation—but she’s almost to the morgue doors, right on Reid’s heels. Lord almighty, she feels so stupid. She’d had enough little one on one chats with Stewart to know he was some sort of psycho in disguise. To know that something was wrong with that kid. No one could last more than three minutes with your grad student assistant without wanting to take an eyeball out—his or theirs it didn’t matter. She’d let herself believe you when you told her that all forensic anthropologists seem like that. That there was nothing to worry about. 

Nothing to worry about her ass. 

Luke’s the first to storm the morgue, expecting what Tara is: you, dead, on the floor with Stewart on the brink of killing himself. But they stop and they stare and Reid beams on with the absurd look on your face. 

You’re shaking with rage, pointing a gun at a very unconscious, crumpled, bleeding Stewart Walsh. Your teeth are bared in what Tara would consider out of a comic book—ludicrous and of someone who’s completely lost their mind. JJ makes the mistake of asking if you’re alright.

“Alright?” you chirp, feral and ravenous. JJ and Luke shrink back as you shout, “I lived in Honduras for three years! This isn’t even the worst thing that’s happened to me. It’s my third fucking kidnapping!”

“T-third?” Luke croaks. 

“Third!” you shout again and recklessly set your gun on the table. Spencer grins, which sets you off further. “I’ve been nice. I’ve been accommodating. But this is my fourth psychotic grad student! I fucking swear—!”

Stewart groans—thank god he’s alive—and Spencer, thankfully, rushes forward to catch you before you can take anything else out on the kid. Tara’s heard rumours about mysterious other instances of your being under arrest. Illegal transportation of goods was one thing, police brutality was another. The scalpel sticking out of his knee is bad enough. 

She helps Luke haul Stewart to his feet, reeking of desperation and a much needed psych eval. JJ follows close behind, closes the morgue doors behind them. But not before they hear your muffled sobs and Spencer’s smiling. 

“You got him, Y/N.”

“No, Spence,” you correct, and Tara can’t help but be proud, “I kicked the snot out of him.”

#

Emily is pulling on her coat when the commotion starts. Penelope, JJ, and Luke are clamouring all over you and Reid, all asking a million too many questions for you to answer. She smiles as you hold your ground next to Reid, arms crossed and relatively relaxed. Emily hasn’t been asked to weigh in on the debate, but she likes you. 

And she hopes the reason will come out in the next five seconds. 

Penelope ensures that it does. She cuts through everyone’s chatter with a flourish of her hands. “Y/N, Spencer,” she demands, “you have to tell me: are you dating or what?”

It takes all of half a second for the pair of you to break out into laughter, fumbling over each other, bent up in hysterics. Emily hopes her own chuckles are well hidden. You elbow Reid hard, barely breathing enough to get the sentence out, “Tell ‘em, Spence.”

Reid shakes his head, elbows you back. “Siblings, guys, we’re siblings.”

“But—!”

“That can’t be—!”

“Biological?”

Penelope shakes her head, throws herself physically into the conversation. “Wait! No! I looked you up! You aren’t the other Dr. Reid, you’re Y/N Y/L/N!”

“Did you change your name?” JJ coughs. Her eyebrows can’t possibly get further up into her hairline as you nod. “Why? Why would you do that?”

You snort. “You don’t want to know.”

Readjusting her scarf, Emily doesn’t bother to hide her shit-eating grin. “Do something illegal, Y/N?”

“Of course not, Special Agent Emily Prentiss. I, a very upstanding citizen and Spencer’s lovely younger sibling, would never do anything that caused me to change my name lest I be arrested in six different countries. No, of course not.”

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #reid #reid x reader #reid x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #i'm serious please be gentle

[writingamongtheroses-archive]

Song Title URL Game

@madmoonink tagged me, thanks! (Jesus, why did I decide on a long name?)

Rules: Spell your URL using song titles

W: Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing by Set It Off

R: Royalty by Conor Maynard

I: It Took Me by Surprise by Maria Mena

T: Take a Hint from Victorious

I: I Love You Too Much from The Book of Life

N: Nightmare by Set It Off

G: GRRRLS by AViVA

A: Amen from Frankenstein

M: Megasix from Six

O: Other Friends from the Steven Universe Movie

N: Natural by Imagine Dragons

G: Glitter and Gold by Barns Courtney

T: The Dismemberment Song by Blue Kid

H: He’s Hurting Me by Maria Mena

E: Epoch by The Living Tombstone

C: Crash by Neovaii

O: Oleander by Mother Mother

L: Lily by Alan Walker, K-391, and Emelie Hollow

O: Only Human from the Death Note musical

R: Run Rabbit by Massive (Psychedelic Trance)

E: Every Breath You Take by Chase Holfelder

D: Don’t Mess With Me by Temposhark

R: Rise and Shine by Deorro

O: Open Up Your Eyes from the MLP Movie

S: Sick Boy by The Chainsmokers

E: Emperor’s New Clothes by Panic! at the Disco

S: Sweet Dreams by Eurythmics

Tagging: @raevenlywrites, @pitoukinnie, @keen2meecha, @fishymom-art, and @lordfenric,

#tag game