#corpse-handling gloves

[lostgirl677]

Negan's wife

One-shot

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Established relationship

Masterlist

TW: language, sexual comments, near assault, violence, blood

A/N: this is the first time I write for Daryl Dixon and I'm a bit nervous. I hope I did okay

Since that fateful night, I’ve been locked up here, sitting alone on the bed, the only furniture of this weird room. I didn't even know how much time had passed. And no matter how many times I tried to force that damn door open, it wouldn’t move. I just let out an exasperated sigh as I sat on the floor. I didn’t know what Negan had in mind when he took both Daryl and I with him, but it sure meant trouble. But the worst part was that I didn't know where Daryl was and if he was okay. I haven't seen him since they unloaded us from that truck. So here I was, alone and scared. Not scared for myself but for Daryl, for our people. I still had the images of the bloodied corpses of our friends, laying there. But instead of letting myself go insane, I tried to focus on what I could do to get Daryl back and to run away from this place. And I would have to be creative since they took all my weapons.

As I was lost in my thoughts, I suddenly perceived the noise of footsteps coming near my cell. My heartbeat quickens, ready for a fight if needed. I promptly jumped on the bed to get as far as I could from whoever entered the room. I heard a key unlocking the door and as the handle turned, I could feel my heart beating in my throat. When the door opened, The first people I saw were some of his goons. After each four of them entered and placed themselves on each side of the door, Negan entered. How I wish I could erase the smirk on his face with my crowbar. He snapped his gloved fingers and one of his goons, Dwight,came next to me and put a black dress next to me. I threw a look at the dress and then at Negan. His smile grew bigger. 

Anger filled my veins when I noticed that Dwight wore Daryl’s clothes. I jumped on my feet and asked “What do you want? Where’s Daryl? Why does this fucker wear his clothes?” “Damn! This guy may never shower but he sure as hell has a fine taste in women.”Negan said, practically undressing me with his eyes as I stood up. He smiled at me and said “Calm down sweetheart. No need to get your panties in a twist. We are civilized people, we can talk calmly.” I scoffed at ‘civilized’, which made him smile even more. He then said “To answer your first question, I’m here to make you one of my wives, hence the black dress.” I grabbed the dress and threw it at him “You can shove it in your ass!” I screamed as he caught the dress mid-air. “Language, sweetheart. Damn! I like you.” I just gave the middle finger with a forced smile. He smiled and then continued “To answer your second question, Daryl is taken care of and..” “If you lay as much of a hand on him, I'll kill you all.”, I said, getting dangerously close to him. “Eh! Don't worry sweetie, I never do the dirty job. But you might like to talk to Dwighty-boy here. He's the one in charge of your lover’s captivity.” I turned my head to my left to throw the blond guy the dirtiest look I could. Dwight seemed to gulp as I kept looking at him.

It seemed to amuse Negan as he looked at the both of us. “Oh, I see you already met. Good, then you’re already familiar with some people here.To answer your last question, D. got promoted. He was allowed to take your dirty biker’s stuff.” My blood was boiling at this point. I was already preparing my fist to punch Negan square in the face when he suddenly closed the distance between us and whispered in ear “You don’t want Daryl to become chow for the dead, right? Believe me, you want to be a good wife.” He was too close for my comfort. But I stayed stone faced, not dismissing the threat underlying his sweet talk. He then looked at me and added “I’ll come back to see you tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll look sexy as hell in the black dress.” He approached his hand to caress my hair but I smacked it as I kept looking at him straight in the eyes.”Don’t touch me!” I hissed through my gritted teeth. He laughed loudly, earning the laughs of the guys behind him “And she's feisty too. I made the right choice choosing you, sweetheart.” We kept eye contact until he broke it to call his goons. “See you tomorrow, darling.” He said one last time, winking at me as he closed the door and locked it.

Instead of sleeping, I spent the night trying to find a way to negotiate with him. Or even a plan to find Daryl and escape with him. But the only way was to bluff or just blatantly lie to get what I want. And after hours of racking my brain for a solution, I decided something.I just hoped it worked the way I wanted to. All I could do was to hope that Daryl was still alive.

In the morning, I heard someone unlocking my door. I readied myself to attack just in case, my breathing getting louder as my heartbeat was going crazy. Then Dwight appeared, with a huge grin on his half-burned face and a tray of food in  hands. “Hello, Y/N. You slept well?” I threw him a look and replied “Go to Hell.” He chuckled and said “Guess someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” I didn’t reply, just threw him a dirty look. Then I noticed. All I could see was fresh blood on Daryl’s clothes. Seeing red suddenly, I jumped on him, grabbing Daryl’s shirt and screamed “What did you do to him?! What did you do?!” He had let go of the tray in a noise of broken dishes and seemed panicked. He tried to get free from my grip but I was too angry to let go that easily. “Answer me! What did you do to Daryl?!” 

“Y/N, calm down!” It made me even more angry, so angry that I kicked him in the balls. He fell to the floor with a less than virile scream. As he clutched his privates with one hand, he used the other to reach a pocket in Daryl’s shirt and got a small box out of it that he threw at my feet. He then said through laboured breathes ”The fucker apparently wanted to pop the question. Too bad he’ll never get to.” I grabbed the box and kicked him harder in the ribcage. And I kept hitting him, adding blood on Daryl’s clothes. I would have killed him if some other guys hadn’t heard his screams. I was blinded by a devastating anger, I couldn’t stop myself. Until one of these guys grabbed me by the shoulders to get me away from Dwight. The goons threw me violently on the bed and helped Dwight up. With that, they locked the door again.

As the anger slowly passed, I suddenly realized how reckless I’ve been. I was sure that Dwight would torture Daryl even more. I curled on the bed, clutching the tiny box in my hand. Daryl wanted to propose to me. He really loved me this much. This statement was a shock to me. In another world, we would have a real wedding with all our friends alive and well. This brought tears in my eyes that I quickly wiped as I heard the door opening again. I didn’t know how much time had passed, again. But it sounded like trouble. Just like the last time, Negan appeared with his goons, including a bloodied Dwight. It was the moment to take action.

“Well, well, well. Hello Y/N. Heard you had one hell of a morning.” he said in his insufferable sing-along tone. Instead of replying, I got closer to him, stood straight and looked him in the eyes when I said “If i become one of your wives, you let Daryl go” His smile didn’t falter but grew bigger. “Very straightforward I see. I like that. But, well sweetheart, it’s not a question to ask.” I stayed with an emotionless face when I declared with determination “I wasn't asking. I'm telling you  how it's gonna be.” Much to my irritation, Negan laughed loudly.”Aren’t you a confident one, darling?” He said as he booped my nose. I immediately slapped his hand out of my face.He wasn’t even upset by my gesture and said “Bold of you sweetheart. I don’t know how it works with Rick. But I’m afraid that it's not how it works here.”

Instead of getting angry, I tried to hold my wrath inside and said “If you don't want me to raise hell, you better accept”. He giggled and leaned his hands to his knees to look at me. “.What are you gonna do, huh? You are alone here sweetie. And loverboy won’t help you.” he cooed as if he was talking to a pretty stupid little girl. How much I wanted to punch him. But I had to remain calm, somehow. Dwight suddenly said “Uh, Negan? She’s really violent”. He was instinctively protecting his junk just in case. It made me smirk “See ? Listen to Freddy Krueger over here. He knows what I'm talking about” I said, pointing at him. Negan threw Dwight a condescending glance before turning his attention back at me, smiling brightly.``Well, you really have fire inside. I’m definitely keeping you”. He said with a laugh.”Well, it was good to have a laugh. Now, put your dress on and get ready. Someone will come to get you in ten minutes.” He said as he got out of the room rapidly.

As I zipped the dress, I tried to ponder whether I should put Daryl’s ring on my finger or not. I didn’t want Negan to take it from me. But I decided to keep it hidden on my necklace.He already took the man I love away from me. I had to act carefully, now. I didn’t know what they were doing to Daryl, but it sure fueled my nightmares. We’ve been through everything since Atlanta and it took one asshole with a barbeled bat to separate us. When I’d get the opportunity, I’d definitely gut Negan. I swore it to myself and to Daryl. I heard the door getting unlocked again and a giant guy came to get me.

The walk to my mysterious destination was quite chilling. The corridors had a cold atmosphere to them. It wasn’t welcoming. Hell, even the prison seemed more cozy than this. As we walked in the maze-like building, something suddenly caught my attention out of the corner of my eyes. Brown long hair and blue eyes. I swiftly snapped my head to see Dwight pushing  someone violently in a small room. It was Daryl, I knew it. Thus, I tried to sneak away from the giant guy to run in the direction of the room but he caught me by the arm. “Where do you think you’re going, doll?” he said as he dragged me away. I could hear an irritating song blasting from here. That’s where they were keeping him. I then swore to myself to note the path we took to find his cell next time.

When giant guy pushed the door in front of us, I caught a glimpse of the room. There were sofas everywhere as well as bottles of alcohol. And there were at least ten very attractive women dressed in the same kind of dress as me. He left me here and got back to whatever was his job. I quickly felt uneasy when all the women snapped their heads to look at me. I felt really awkward to be the center of attention so I tried to find a quiet place in the room. They didn’t even try to come to talk to me, which was fine by me. All I had in mind was the glimpse of Daryl I had in the corridor. His back was almost arched. I never saw him like that, even at his worst. They were breaking him, destroying him completely. I couldn’t stand it. Tears were brought to my eyes again as the images kept replaying in my mind. I just closed them to keep me from crying. “Hey! You okay?” asked a woman’s voice next to me. 

Surprised, I opened my eyes and wiped them with the back of my hand. And I looked at the mysterious woman. She was a brunette with brown eyes. “Uh, yeah, yeah. It’s okay. I’m okay.” She looked at me emphatically and said “I’m Sherry. Aren’t you Daryl’s girlfriend?” I almost gasped. “What? You know him?” She looked at me a bit embarrassed. “Well, let’s say we met in the woods.” “You’re the one who stole his crossbow and his bike!” I exclaimed, suddenly understanding. She seemed even more embarrassed. “Well, you mugged my husband earlier today. Let’s say we’re even.” I almost choked. “You’re married to that scumbag?! The very one torturing Daryl, right now?!” I said angrily even though it wasn’t her fault. “Yeah, I was. Now I’m Negan’s wife. Just like you.” I felt like I could trust her, somehow. But I couldn’t risk anything here.I was sure there were snitches waiting for some intel to give to Negan. So I just nodded my head and kept to myself.

I spent some time in silence, lost in my mind when I noticed that the sofa I was on dipped under someone's weight. “Hey! New girl.” I tried to focus again on the real world to see a beautiful woman next to me. “Yeah?” She smiled at me and said “Tonight’s your special night. You should get ready.” “What do you mean?” Confusion was probably written all over my face because she added “ Negan’s gonna mark you as officially his. We’re here to prepare you, he’s quite rough the first time. He gotta show you who’s in charge I guess” I felt the blood draining from my face. “You mean, he’s gonna…” I couldn’t finish my sentence. “ Yeah. But don’t worry. It’ll hurt for a few days then you’ll get used to it. Just be prepared psychologically.” I wanted to run away, as far as I could. But I had to pull through. For Daryl. He must never know about it.

The fateful moment was here. I was escorted to Negan’s room and was waiting for him to come. It was the moment to find a weapon quickly. I ran to his drawers and tried to rummage through his stuff. After fruitless effort, I finally pricked my finger to some kind of tiny knife.Relief washed over me as my fingers curled around it. It was tiny enough to hide it. But I didn’t have much time to think about it when I heard the doors. “Eager I see.” He said in a smug tone as he saw me next to his bed. I turned to face him. His smile was the most horrendous thing I saw in my life. This predatory look in his eyes, full of lust, disgusted me. He swiftly approached me and began to unzip my dress. I couldn’t help but try to get out of his reach. He paused and asked, surprised “What ? Don’t tell me Tough guy never touched you?” I turned my head to not see him. “ It's a sin, really.” And as he kept unzipping my dress he added “Well his loss.” And he let his hands wander on my body. I had to hold down my urge to throw up. Daryl would never do something like this without my consent. He would never treat me like this. But I had to play the game to get where I wanted. 

Negan made me face him. I was just waiting for him to get closer. My heartbeat quickened, it would be my moment soon. He was so focused on my breast that he didn’t see anything else. I wanted to punch him so hard but what was waiting for him was better. Swiftly, before he could react I got the knife out of the pocket of my dress to press it on his neck, next to the carotid. His eyes widened and he took his hands off me. But instead of panic, he seemed amused. What the hell was wrong with him? A trickle of blood was running down his neck.'' Why do you have to kill the vibe, uh missy? I thought we were getting cozy, here.” he said casually, as if I wasn’t threatening him at all.” As I was stucking the knife deeper in his skin, he swifty grabbed my hand to get the knife and added “Unless it’s some kind of kink?” He slowly  licked  the knife. HIs eyes were full of lust. Out of anger, I spat in his face. He wiped his face with an even bigger smile but there wasn’t any joy in it. “Well, you can’t tell I didn’t warn you last night.” 

The next thing I knew, he was dragging me half undressed and my hair in a mess through the cold corridors. He then stopped. “You only want the dirty redneck? Well, knock yourself out! I’ll come back later and I'll be less charming, believe me.” I locked eyes with him one last time and spat in his face again. WIthout any other word, he threw me in a cell. The first thing I noticed was the terrible smell. But the worst was him. Daryl was here. My heart broke when I saw him all curled up in a ball on the floor. “Daryl.” I called softly. But he didn’t react nor acknowledged my presence. “Daryl. Hey! It’s me, Y/N”. Carefully, I got closer to him and caressed his hair.I felt him stiffen at my contact.That’s when the tears finally escaped from my eyes.”What did they do to you?” I asked as I kept crying. Then I heard his broken voice ask quietly“Y/N? Ya real?”. I saw him slowly getting in a sitting position. “Yeah, it’s me.” Relief seemed to wash over him until he noticed my poor state. He tried to wipe my tears away. His rough hand never felt so soft on my skin. “What happened? What did he do to you?!” he asked anxiously, probably expecting the worst. “He didn’t…? Please tell me he didn’t. They kept tellin’ me horrendous things he did to ya. I’m gonna kill him.” I put my hand soothingly on his when I assured him. “No, he didn’t. Didn’t have the time.” Daryl sighed in relief.

He then approached his hand to my shoulder to get the fabric of the dress to hide my bra.Clumsily, his hand got untangled in my necklace and found the ring. His head dropped and he said “Was supposed to pop the question. But I don’t think..” “Yes, Daryl. I want to marry you.” I slowly got closer to him and kissed him as I was supposed to after all this time. “I don’t know how or when. But I’ll get us out of here. I promise."

A/N : feedback is welcome. I think I need advices to write Daryl correctly 😅

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon twd #daryl twd #daryl dixion imagine #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #norman reedus #norman reedus imagine #norman reedus x reader #twd imagine #twd fanfiction #negan smith #negan smith x reader

[harpyface]

Kim Kitsuragi - The bullet falls in the bag leaving a smattering of blood on the plastic. He raises the bag under his eyes and says:

Kim Kitsuragi - "Unknown calibre. Rifled. Some kind of brittle alloy, fractured on impact..."

You - "Can I have it?"

Kim Kitsuragi - "Of course. You've *earned* it." The lieutenant drops the bag in your bloody hand. It feels light.

Perception (Sight) - Your gardening glove is completely covered in the corpse's blood.

Inland Empire - Cold and absent of life.

Half Light - Lick your fingers.

Volition - What-

Electrochemistry - YES-

You - Um...?

Endurance - Uh, no. You barely got your shit together when approaching the hanging corpse. Your body will not be able to handle its dead blood inside it.

Electrochemistry - The dark liquid glistens on the yellow latex in the cold sunlight. Your fingers are *dripping* with it.

Authority - You outlived this sad, sad man. It's only right that you should feast upon his corpse.

Logic - No, you shouldn't. The corpse has been hanging outside - mouth open - for a week. In any case, it won't taste good.

Conceptualisation - That's because it's raw, unseasoned blood. This is just a little taste.

Perception (Smell) - You waft the odor towards your face. If you close your eyes, you can imagine it's a kebab.

Volition - We all know that the kebabs you ate were no better than a week-old corpse. Take the gloves off and clean them when you get back to your room.

Reaction Speed - You will never get this chance again, especially with how the lieutenant regarded you when you tried to remove the hanged man's boots.

You - Lick your fingers.

Perception (Taste) - You swipe the flat of your tongue along the back of your hand. Why did you do that? You could have just dabbed at it. It's disgustingly sour and tastes awful. You gag when your saliva washes the fluid down your throat.

Authority - You have bested this man. You have consumed him.

Electrochemistry - It's fucking vile. It's enlightening.

Logic - Great. Now that you've established that brain fluid and blood tastes bad, let's get back to the autopsy.

Kim Kitsuragi - He had turned to his notebook when you took the bagged bullet. He's still looking down at it.

Kim Kitsuragi - He was beginning to write the bullet wound's description. The pen has not touched the paper.

Composure - He *saw* you lick your bloody glove.

Empathy - It's not a surprise. He is still appalled.

Half Light - You conquered your prey. You are the predator.

Inland Empire - A four-legged beast with sharp claws and numerous teeth. Muscles powerful and flexing.

Shivers - In a grimy butcher shop in Faubourg, a rugged man pulls a thawed lamb down onto the somewhat clean counter. He grips the front legs and tendons crack. In the front of the shop, raw meats line the shelves. Red steaks with beautiful marbling, sausage casings stuffed full of spiced pork, pink breasts of chicken shining in the artificial light.

Electrochemistry - You recall the sweet ham of Gaston's sandwich.

Physical Instrument - Your muscles are also powerful and flex-worthy. Your meat would be highly coveted.

Volition - Right. Who would want to buy meat sourced from an addicted alcoholic? Take off the damn gloves.

You - "I wonder what I taste like."

Kim Kitsuragi - You pull him out of his silent stupor. After a second, he decides to ignore what you said. "We need to add an item to the injury list."

#EdC: He would be willing to help with that #this wasnt even for the last meme i just neeeeed cannibalism #new thought orb when harry walks past the kitchen and he has more cannibalism thoughts #yknow my friend said i was her SECOND favorite cannibal second to alastor #corvid creates #disco elysium #harry du bois #kim kitsuragi #disco elysium skills #celltw save me celltw #more often au

[aloysiavirgata]

(if you are accepting prompts!) what iffffff you wrote a soft gentle little fic in which Scully has a spectacularly unlovely head cold and after some grouching Mulder looks after her? There are so many moments of peril on x files that sometimes it’s nice when the enemy is just a simple rhinovirus, lol.

He doesn’t even attempt to make it himself. Calls ahead to Loeb’s with his order, which he accepts from a stylish young Mexican man whose name tag reads Pierre.

“A sheynem dank,” Mulder says, echoing the grandmother who called Samantha a shaineh maideleh.

Pierre nods. “Bitte, baby,” he says. “De nada.”

***

Mulder clomps up her stairs with Puritan determination. He feels that since he did not cook the food himself he must exert some other effort for it. His soul is at eternal war with itself.

He doesn’t knock; lets himself in with the Home Depot key Scully had made for him around the time that Tooms wanted into her pants for all the wrong reasons. It sticks a little still, even after so many years. He’s rarely had to use it - when aren’t they together?

A hacking noise from her bedroom, something wet being coughed. Spat.

Mulder helps himself to a bowl, a plate, a spoon.

“I’b arbed,” she rasps from down the hall. “I’b a Federal Agent.”

“Don’t shoot,” Mulder calls back, hunting down a napkin. “I am a poor boy from a poor family.” Her mother wears Revlon and his wears Guerlain.

He tips some soup and two of the matzo balls into a bowl, wedges one of the challah rolls next to it. He puts the leftovers in the fridge.

Mulder carries the plate down the hall, the nearly-full bowl sloshing dangerously atop.

He enters Scully’s bedroom. She’s been upgrading over the past couple of years, replacing her IKEA basics with good secondhand finds in cherry and walnut. The candle she’s lit smells like white flowers with thick, creamy petals.

Scully is tucked into bed like an Austen heroine, all delicate pallor and genteel unhappiness. Her nose is pink-tipped and raw, hair in a ponytail. She’s wearing a gray sweatshirt instead of her usual pajamas.

Mulder sets the food down on her nightstand, next to a vase of dried roses and her Yaqui slide holster. A speed loader. There’s a well-framed Monet print over the bed.

Pat Conroy’s Beach Music is open face down on her lap, surrounded by crumpled tissues. She doesn’t look happy to see him, her purple-shadowed eyes narrowing a bit.

“Go away,” she says. Sneezes.

“Brought you some soup,” he says, unnecessarily. Points at it, also unnecessarily.

“Bulder,” she sniffs. “Go hobe. I don’t like being fussed over. I hab a cold, dot Ebola.”

“Too bad,” he says. “I’m going to. Do you have Vick’s Vapor Rub? You really should have Vick’s Vapor Rub.”

She closes her eyes. Pinches the bridge of her nose, centering herself. “It’s dot your fault I’b sick,” she says, looking back over at him after a moment.

“I dragged you into the woods again. You fell down a hole full of corpses! You’ve been in remission for like…twenty minutes.” He jabs the spoon at her.

She rolls her eyes. “You don’t get a cold frob being in the woods. Or frob being chilly. You get a cold frob a virus.”

He feigns outrage. “Excuse me, but are you contradicting noted excellent mother-slash-world-class-epidemiologist Doctor Teena Mulder MD?”

This sends Scully into a flurry of coughing. She swats at him in annoyance. “Ugh,” she says at last. “You see why I can’t hab you here, you’re a lousy durse.”

Mulder takes her hand, pale as a kid glove. He shoves the spoon into it, squeezes her fingers about the handle. “Eat the soup or I’m calling your mom. I’m calling BILL.”

She narrows her eyes again. “You wouldn’t.”

“I think you’re well aware that I’m capable of being overly dramatic when the wind is southerly and the fancy strikes.” He holds the plate before her like an offering to a goddess.

Scully considers him. “You did get us out ob the teabwork sebidar,” she observes. “Techdically.”

“I did,” he agrees.

“You bade be sing,” she adds. Reproachful.

He grins. “The angels all were singing out of tune, And hoarse with having little else to do, Excepting to wind up the sun and moon, Or curb a runaway young star or two.”

Scully looks at the spoon in her hand for the first time, as though wondering how it got there.

“Byron,” she says, a little smile. She picks up the roll, examines it. Peers at the soup. Sneezes again. “Mad, bad, and dangerous to know.”

“Caroline Lamb,”Mulder replies. He doesn’t point out that Caroline Lamb had been Byron’s lover, that she’d sent him a clipping of her pubic hair in the mail. He certainly doesn’t think of the juncture between Scully’s thighs at all, whether it matches the drapes, whether it tastes like kettle corn and Vineyard whitecaps in July. Lobster rolls and saltwater taffy.

He’d meant it, about the sleeping bag. He wishes there had been a sleeping bag and he is so, so grateful there was no sleeping bag.

Scully sniffles again, defeated. “You got be batzo ball soup?”

He thumbs an escaped tendril of hair back from the sweep of her extraordinary cheekbone.

“I did,” he murmurs back. He sets the plate down between them. He peels the roll open, yeasty and fragrant, and dunks it into the golden broth.

He raises it to her mouth.

Scully sucks at it, draws it past her lips. She bites. Chews, swallows. She holds his eyes with hers. She catches an escaped droplet with her tongue.

“Good,” she mumbles. Watches him dip the dry part back into the bowl. “Thank you.”

He feeds her another bite. Her mouth opens like a snapdragon, like an oyster in the tide. She drops her gaze this time. Her guard.

They complete the entire roll this way, and one matzo ball. Silent, slurpy. Scully’s lids droop, her lashes brushing her cheeks.

“Sleepy,” she mumbles, curling onto her side. Her paperback falls to the floor.

Mulder returns the food to the night table. He strokes her hair until she’s out cold, snoring a little. He curls into the bed as well, his nose to hers. He touches her philtrum with his pointer finger. He traces the tender pink whelk of her ear.

They sleep for hours until she coughs awake, gasping, her thin chest heaving. Mulder rubs circles between her scapulae.

“Go hobe,” she says, knees drawn, leaning against his chest. “You deed to sleep.”

He puts his arms around her, drops a kiss on her tangled head. “Okay,” he agrees.

She’s out again in moments. He holds her upright until he drifts off as well.

They sleep until morning. He feeds her soup for breakfast, calls into work with a case of Ebola.

#xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #msr #my fic #sick fics #detour post episode #fluff #inbox #prompt

[fruity-mega-coconut69]

Never

[pairings]: Ghosface!Tara Carpenter x Ghostface!Fem!Reader

[Summary]: You get hurt at one of your killing nights with Tara, but luckily she is there to take care of you and she is never going to let you out of her sight anymore

[warnings]: Blood, murder, kissing

A/N: i was bored today, so i decided to write something quickly

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Tara was panting lightly as she looked down at the corpse before her. There was blood everywhere and the man wasn’t even recognizable anymore. She slowly looked up to see you holding your knife in one hand  and your other one holding at your side, your back bending a little in pain. Tara gasped and quickly went over to you. As she approached you, a visible knife was plugged into your side. You looked up at Tara in fear. She hushed you and took off her mask, settling it down on a nearby table.She took off yours too and held your face in her hands.

“Hey, look at me. “ You did, with tears welling up in your eyes, as if you didn’t just gut someone with your girlfriend. “ It’s going to be okay. I just need you to take small breaths, hm? Can you do that? “ You nodded at her and she nodded back at you, muttering something to herself.

She gripped the knife in your side and your eyes widened as you looked at her, shaking your head. Tara quickly pulled out the knife from your side and pressed her and your hand on the wound. You groaned and your body shook. “ Okay, come on, we gotta take care of you. “ She picked up her mask and held it in her hand while walking you out of the house of the man you had just murdered.

You guys arrived at your car that was parked just outside. Tara opened the door to the passenger seat and sat you down, having to take her hand off your wound. She rounded the car and got into the driver’s side. Her gloved shaking hands gripped the steering wheel as she started the engine. She glanced at you occasionally throughout the drive to your apartment, checking on you.

When you arrived she practically jumped out of the car and ran to your side, helping you out. Soon you were in your apartment, laying on your couch as Tara gently cleaned the wound. 

“Fuck.” You hissed and threw your head back.

“ Oh, stop whining, we are almost done. “ 

“ The fuck ‘almost’?! You said it needs stitches. I don’t see any stitches. “ You exclaimed which you regretted immediately as pain shot through your body and you groaned.  Tara rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything. 

After she was done and you calmed down, she made you guys dinner and sat down on the couch, placing your head in her lap. You guys ate in silence. After you were done Tara turned on the TV and you watched whatever was on while she played with your hair, leaning down and kissing your head from time to time.

-

The next morning you woke up with a kind of sore side, so you had to get out of your girlfriend's warm hold and go take some painkillers. You walked back into your bedroom and picked up your phone to check the time. 

6:36 AM

You sighed and went over to your closet quietly. You picked out the hoodie you ‘borrowed’ from Tara and put it on along with some light green cargo pants. Walking into the kitchen, you decided to drink some coffee so you turned on the coffee machine and leaned against the counter with crossed arms while waiting. When it was done, you grabbed the handle of the pot and poured it into two mugs. You peacefully drank yours then went onto the bathroom to get ready.

By the time you were ready it was around 7:15 AM. You decided it was time to wake up Tara so you went into your bedroom and shook her shoulder slowly. “ Love, it’s time to get up. Let’s have breakfast and go to school. “ After a couple of seconds she opened her eyes and smiled at the sight of your face.

“ Hi. “

“ Hi, come on. I made coffee. “ 

After she finally got out of bed, you guys had breakfast, she got ready and you were off to college.

You guys met up with the others in the hall and as soon as Chad caught sight of you two, he was running towards you and hugging the both of you. Unfortunately, when he hugged you, you whimpered in pain as his strong arms gripped your sides. As soon as he heard you whimper he pulled back with a worried expression on his face.Tara took your hand and interlocked your fingers with hers in a calming manner. 

“ What’s wrong? “ Asked Mindy as she and the others approached you guys.

“ Uh, nothing. Just, my side hurts from…..” You couldn’t come up with an excuse and you began to freak out until Tara spoke up.

“ We just had a long night “ Tara smirked at the end of her sentence. The others' faces turned from worry to disgust.

“ Uh, no thanks. No more details. “ Ethan gagged at the thought. 

“Oh, shut your virgin ass up! “

Everyone laughed and started walking towards their next classes as you and Tara lingered behind. “ Thanks “

She looked at you and her gaze lingered on you before smiling and holding your interlocked hands up, kissing the back of yours. “ Of course, my love. Anything for you. “ You blushed and your grip tightened on her hand. “ Are you okay, by the way? “ You nodded and grinned at her.

-

Later at your apartment, Tara was on a call with her sister, Sam, begging asking her to let her stay another night at yours. You were sitting in your living room, chuckling lightly at whatever show you were watching. A couple minutes later, Tara came and sat down beside you with a smile on her face. You looked at her. “ So, can you stay? “

“Yep, just this one more time. “ She laughed as she remembered her sister's frustrated voice over the phone. 

“Good. I need someone to take care of me “ You smirked at her teasingly. She smiled as she looked at you up and down in your pajamas. You leaned in slowly until your noses were touching. She huffed and went to close the gap quickly. As your lips met, everything else faded away and there was only the two of you. You sighed into the kiss and put your hands on her warming cheeks. Her hands pulled you closer by your hips and you soon had to pull back due to the lack of oxygen.

“ Never leave me? “

She shook head and looked deeply into your eyes, slightly chasing after your lips. “ Never. “

-----------------------------------

A/N: just a short fic for you guys.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #scream franchise #scream fanfic

[circusmania]

Hello! Can I request Yandere romantic michael myers that know detective reader is secretly a Eldritch Abomination that showing or feeling no interest, enthusiasm, or concern?

Btw i love your writing😊

Yandere!Michael Myers x GN!Reader ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

Notes: Aww! I'm so grateful that you enjoy my writing! Hopefully, you enjoy this one, too. ♡ Also, I hope that it matches what you requested. :')

Muah Muah 🖤

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

WARNINGS: Gore, stalking, mentions of body mutilations (reader + corpses)

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

Amidst the rain, flashing red and blue lights could be seen. Haddonfield is quiet on this Halloween night, which is no surprise to the people who live there. No trick-or-treaters are seen on the streets, just police and their cars.

A car pulls up, catching the attention of the officers. Out steps the famous detective, You. You've impressed many with your skills and clue findings, no killer has ever been able to slip past you. Except for a particular man. The Boogeyman. You've been on his trail for years now, and you can't say that you haven't enjoyed the chase.

You step in a puddle, paying no mind to your wet shoes as your assistant scurries over with an umbrella.

“Detective!” He frantically fixes himself as he struggles to hold the umbrella over your head. “It's an 18-year-old girl. She was babysitting a young boy (who thankfully survived) when the killer forced himself into the house and stabbed her many times.”

You two approached the body of the girl. Your assistant turned his head, not wanting to see the gruesome sight. There's blood dripping from every open wound. Her face is twisted in agony and there's no light in her eyes.

“Do you think…. He did it? You know… the Boogeyman.” He whispered as if he was afraid of anyone hearing.

You didn't say anything. Obviously, it was, who else could it have been? You crouched down next to her, no emotion displayed on your face as you put on your gloves.

“Her parents are here…” Your assistant spared you a glance as a car pulled up not far from the crime scene.

“Don't let them come near.” You said, getting up after finishing examining her.

“Shouldn't we let her parents see her…?”

The screams and weeping of the parents could be heard from behind the police tape.

You sigh. “This is no place for a funeral. I don't want them touching the crime scene or moving anything.” You replied sharply.

Your assistant shivers at your coldness. He nods and moves to tell the officers. Suddenly, you notice something on one of the trees next to the body.

A heart had been carved into the trunk of the tree. You moved closer, straying away from the umbrella your assistant was holding. Now drenched in rain, you traced the carving with your finger. Whoever had done this knew how to handle a knife… The carvings were deep and done with passion.

Michael Myers was watching from afar, heavy breathing could be heard from under his mask. His grip tightened on his bloody knife as he saw your assistant yell after you for getting soaked.

Back home, your sanctuary, you finally felt relief. Your house was located deep in the woods to avoid any human interactions. The naked eye couldn't process your naked form.

The human skin stuck to yours. You peeled it off, layer after layer. You're careful not to rip it, as human skin tends to be too fragile for your claws. You laid your drenched skin suit on your chair.

You strolled over to your fridge and opened it. Your amalgamation of a hand reached in and pulled out some sort of meat. You engulfed it, not letting any of your teeth have a chance to penetrate it. You scarfed down any remaining bones on the plate.

All of a sudden, one of your many eyes picked up on a movement outside your window. Your eyes narrowed as you closed your fridge. You don't care if a human ever catches your form. Your bare body would make any sane man explode (literally). So you didn't worry about your secret getting out. However, this was different.

Your acute ears focused on any sounds that would indicate the presence of another being. Abruptly, you heard a twig snap.

You rushed out of your house at an abnormally fast rate. You were ready to confront your stalker, however, once outside, you were greeted with the dark, lonely forest and the song of the crickets you were accustomed to.

Whoever you were dealing with couldn't be human. You scoffed and went back inside, failing to notice the pale mask of the Boogeyman amidst the trees.

You were planning on relaxing the rest of your afternoon, but Michael had other plans. You were called in again when another body had been found dumped in a ravine close to your house. You put back on your skin suit, it was extra tight on you since it hadn't dried off yet.

Once again, you did your usual routine. Examine the body, look for clues and ask questions. Whoever this mysterious Michael Myers was, he sure knew how to put up a game of cat and mouse… And romance you in his own way.

The stab wounds on his victim were in a heart-shaped pattern.

“Ain't it too early for Valentine?” Your assistant attempted to (nervously) crack a joke, which fell on deaf ears.

You remained with a stoic face as you watched them place the body in a body bag.

Each year, the Boogeyman gets bolder and bolder. Yet, never had the guts to face you. Unbeknownst to you, tonight would be different.

Your assistant coughed to get your attention. “I've… got to go… family emergency.”

“Mm, okay.” You turned back to the crime scene.

Your assistant lingered for a while, expecting any worried expression or encouraging words. But was ultimately met with your usual uncaring tone.

Another hour had passed, and you were finally granted permission to go home. Home.

As you arrived home, you parked your car and got out. A beautiful stench filled your nostrils. Laying on your welcome mat was a human heart surrounded by a heart formed of drops of blood.

Your door was ajar.

A twinge of hope that today could be the day you meet him arose. But, it quickly died down as you entered your home.

The smell flooded your house as each step made it stronger and stronger. Like a game of hot and cold, each step you took was warmer and warmer.

Laying on your kitchen table on a fancy dish was the head of your assistant. His tongue was pulled out all the way through his mouth and his teeth were knocked out and laid next to his head.

You ignored him though, because your attention was focused on the giant man standing in the dark hallway. He was bloody, and heavily breathing, but somehow quiet…. He was awaiting your next move.

Perhaps the thing that sparked Michael's obsession with you wasn’t that you weren’t human, but the fact that you never showed any ounce of fear towards him. Or maybe because you both shared a taste for carnage.

Your human skin faltered as your smile stretched beyond human capabilities. Your eyes were gouging out of your sockets as your appearance looked less and less human.

In all of your and Michael's years, this may be the first time a spark of emotions illuminated in both of your empty bodies.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

#horror #slashers #slash fanfiction #slasher fandom #michael myers #halloween 1978 #slasher movies #jason voorhees #freddy krueger #halloween #gender neutral reader #yandere #yandere male #yandere slasher #yandere michael myers #romantic #female reader #x male reader #x female reader #pennywise #analogue horror #analogue #x transfem reader #x transmasc reader #detective reader #eldritch horror #eldritch #eldritch reader #romantic slasher #scp foundation

[mrsshabana]

𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary You've been anxious to see the vampire again after that first night. And when he comes, you learn just how binding your pact with him is. Your life will never be the same. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, modern au, vampires, blood, violence, corpses, biting ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.6k words

✧:･ﾟ→ Chapter One

Each shift after your encounter with the vampire was filled with anxiety. You would come in to work, hoping you wouldn’t see him but knowing that it was inevitable. Each day that passed without seeing him your anxiety grew more and more. Would he come today? Would he come tomorrow? 

Well today was your lucky day, because there he is. As soon as you walk into the examination room you see the vampire curiously examining your tools. Scalpels, knives, bone saws, siphons. He looks up at you through his lashes, vibrant red orbs glaring at you. 

He looks a lot different than before. Though still dead so to speak, his skin still pale and lifeless but he looks a lot healthier than before. Not so skinny and emaciated, he actually looks muscular under the black hoodie he’s wearing. 

“Why do you look so surprised?” he growls, “You should have been expecting me.”

“I-I was um,” you stutter and put your things down at the desk, “I didn’t know which day you’d come.”

“Hm,” he hums, walking around the room. Eyeing you up and down. 

“I never got your name,” your voice quivers as you attempt to make casual conversation in this not so casual situation. 

“Gyutaro,” he states bluntly.

“Gyutaro? That’s a nice name,” you smile slightly, trying to hide your fear. “I’m -”

“I already know your name, Y/N,” he cuts you off, scoffing as if he’s annoyed by your attempt to introduce yourself, “Can we just get to the point already? I’m not here to be your friend. I’m here for you to keep up your end of the deal.”

“Right, sorry…” you apologize and quickly put on your gloves before heading into the back room where the cold lockers are. He promptly follows you, keeping his predatory gaze locked onto you. You can feel his stare drilling holes into your back.

The two of you enter the room, the cold temperature causing goosebumps on your skin. You look over the lockers, comparing dates until you find the most recent one. Pulling the handle, you open the locker to slide the body out. Revealing the corpse of a woman in her mid 50’s who passed away only 8-12 hours ago. Then you prepare your tools and begin to siphon the blood out of the corpse, filling up the same bucket as before. 

Gyutaro stands behind you, watching you with a judgmental gaze. The scent of blood fills his nostrils but he’s able to control himself this time. 

Once the bucket is mostly full you present it to him with shaky hands, nervous that he may go ravenous as he did last time. But he stands there unphased, with his arms crossed - looking down at you with a raised brow. 

“This isn’t good enough,” he rasps.

“Wh-what do you mean?” you furrow your brows in confusion, looking into the bucket to see what's wrong. But the blood looks perfectly normal to you. 

“This blood isn’t fresh.”

“Well yeah, I have to take it from corpses. It usually takes at least a few hours for the bodies to get to me,” you whimper, feeling afraid of how he will react. 

“That’s not my problem,” he steps closer to you, “It’s yours.”

“B-But you liked the blood I gave you last time,” your eyes begin to water.

He scowls and raises his voice, “That was my first meal! I was desperate for anything,  I was starving…” he looks down as if he had a sad memory but he quickly snaps out of it and gets in your face again, “Would you want to eat stale food every day? Yeah, I didn't think so. So you better find me some fresh blood or else.”

“But I can’t get fresh blood! I have no way of doing something like that,” your tears slowly begin to fall down your cheeks. 

“You know what happens to humans who break a pact with a vampire?”

“N-No… what?” you sniffle.

“Let’s find out,” he grins and puts his cold hand on your shoulder. Opening his mouth, showing his deadly fangs. 

“Ok ok!” you panic, “I’ll get you fresh blood!” You desperately agree, not wanting to find out what the consequences are of breaking a pact with him. You have no idea how you will manage to get fresh blood, but it doesn’t seem like you have much of a choice. 

“Good,” he smirks and steps away from you. Though he does take the blood bucket from your hands, placing a finger inside then putting it in his mouth to get a taste. 

“Ngh, that’s disgusting,” he coughs, “I’d only drink this if I was on the verge of death.”

You wipe the tears from your eyes and clean up the area. Putting the body back in the locker and cleaning your siphon before you go back to the examination room with the vampire. 

He looks at you expectantly. 

“What? I-I can’t get fresh blood for you that fast! I don’t even know how I’ll do it without, well… killing someone,” the thought of having to kill another human being almost brings you to tears. 

“It’s not my problem that you’re completely incompetent,” he rolls his eyes, “You owe me fresh blood, and your first payment is now.”

Panicked, you look around the room. Trying to find anything to help you out of this predicament. It’s 11:42 pm, how the hell are you supposed to come up with fresh blood? It’s not like you can just walk up to a blood bank and ask for it. Let alone go to the extreme of killing someone. But you got yourself into this mess, so you have to do whatever it takes to keep your end of the deal.

You squeeze your eyes tightly and move your head back, revealing your neck to him, “Fine.”

“Wh-what are you doing?” his eyes widen in surprise and his voice softens. 

“Take my blood. It’s the only option I have.”

“Are you sure…?” he takes a step closer to you, almost unable to believe you’re offering your own blood to him. 

“Yes,” you nod, “I’m sure.”

He grabs your shoulders, your eyes shooting open from the sudden contact. 

“Alright,” he sighs, looking down at you. His vibrant eyes staring into yours, “It’ll be easier if you lay down.”

You take a deep breath and nod. The only place to lie down is right here on the examination table. The metal feels ice cold as you hesitantly lay atop it. The fluorescent lights buzzing above you as Gyutaro looks down at you.  This entire time he’s been cold and calculating, but this is the first time you’ve seen him look so unsure. So nervous. 

Gyutaro carefully climbs onto the examination table, hovering above you. He can hear your heart beating, so fast that he feels like he can see the blood pulsing in your neck. His eyes dilate at the thought of piercing your delicate skin with his fangs. 

Your breath hitches as he leans in. Getting closer to your neck with each second that passes. However, his movements are slow and gentle, much different than they were before. 

You can’t avoid what happens next, no matter how much you wish you could. In the end, it’s your fault that you’re in this situation in the first place. So you might as well embrace it and make it as easy as possible. Turning your head to the side, you offer your neck to him. 

Gyutaro slowly inches closer, the tip of his nose brushing against your ear - sending shivers down your spine. 

He opens his mouth and you barely feel the softness of his lips caressing your skin before the stinging pain of his fangs puncturing your skin, sinking into your flesh and penetrating your veins. 

You gasp and flinch from the initial sting, holding onto his shoulder for support. He groans deeply as your sweet blood touches his tongue, the taste more divine than anything that has ever breached his lips. He becomes lost in your saccharine nectar, losing himself in the addictive flavor of you. Without thinking he puts his hand on your waist, holding you still as he ever so slightly leans his body closer to yours. 

Your fingers and toes begin to go numb, and your heartbeat skyrockets. The sound of your pounding heart is the only thing that snaps him out of it. Resulting in him unlatching from your neck just in time before you would lose consciousness. 

The both of you pant heavily, trying to calm down from the intense experience. Gyutaro’s face goes red when he realizes how close he is to you and he quickly gets off of you, standing up beside the table.

You try to stand but you feel too light-headed to do so, Gyutaro puts a hand on your shoulder as if silently telling you to take it easy. You really don’t know how to feel at this moment. Scared? Relieved? Embarrassed? Probably a combination of all three, but you’re honestly just happy that he didn’t kill you.

“Thanks for being so gentle, Gyutaro…” you mutter.

His blush deepens, “Whatever… Just get me fresh blood by the end of the week. I can’t feed off of you every time. Your body won’t be able to handle it…”

“O-ok,” you gulp, “I’ll have it ready for you when you come back.” 

“Good,” he hands you a piece of paper with a number written down, “That’s my phone number. Just in case you need something.”

“Thanks,” you say shyly as you stash the paper in your pocket for later. 

“Just remember we aren’t friends, this is just business,” he scowls, looking back at you one last time before leaving out the window just as he had before.

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyuutarou #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyuutarou x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #vampire x reader #vampire au

[m1d-45]

Heheehee would love to see venti post-imposter au like that one u did for zhongli...I love guilt >:)))) and thank u, u r amazing!!!!

unnamed poem, unnamed bard

a/n: wrote a whole poem for this. hope you enjoy <3

-> warnings: reader is dead. reader is a literal corpse and is described and referred to as such. major spoilers for mondstat archon quest, the most microscopic spoilers for liyue archon quest.

-> lowercase intended!

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie

< masterlist >

‘the creator is the highest god across every nation.’

seven sets of eyes stared at the body in front of them, at the arrow shot through it’s throat. several other wounds crossed the body, but none were as lethal as the first.

‘they have created everything, from the clouds-‘

angry gray rippled across the sky, thunder crackling in the distance. the storm had been brewing all day, and now the reason why was clear.

‘-to the air-‘

wind howled and cried, whipping through hair and pulling at clothes. one of the ties around venti’s braids had been ripped away, the hair beginning to unravel in the gale. still, even as nahida clutched at focalor’s cloak to stay standing—poor girl, she’d been trying to convince her—the clothes on the corpse were still.

‘-to the earth beneath our feet.’

blood seeped into the ground below, shimmering even in the dim light filtering through the clouds. the brick pattern below had shining blue for grout, blood tracing a spiderweb out.

‘they are only to be adored with the highest of veneration.’

thin hands shook around the handle of a bow, painted nails digging into the grip. barbatos’ eyes are wide, teal, unblinking gaze staring at the body as if it would magically come back to life. as if it would reach, pull out the arrow, as if it would sit up and chide him for behaving so rashly. it doesn’t.

‘after all…’

amber eyes search for purple, then red, black gloves tightening around the geo lord’s weapon. he was not without sin, having also participated in the chase—none were truly pure, none truly deserved any form of forgiveness except for maybe nahida.

‘it is they to which we owe our lives.’

seven chests heaved with a variety of emotions—adrenaline, contrition, horror—but an eighth was oddly regular. blank, lifeless eyes, matching the color of the ones on the corpse, curved with a smile. well done! they cheered, silent pride shining in the dim light.

‘they are stronger than steel.’

“who are you?”

the gritted voice of the pyro archon shattered the fragile silence.

“me?”

‘brighter than the sun.’

the false god put a hand to their chest, the fake shock on their face not hiding their glee. “well, i’m your god, aren’t i?”

‘with their iron-strong will,’

six hands tightened on weapons. one set let go of cloth, small stature still brimming with anger.

‘eons long work begun.’

new blood stained the dirt, red instead of divine blue. the fake’s body jerked, elemental reactions dancing across their skin as their body fell to the floor. superconduct burned out their eyes, overload locked up their lungs, quicken sped up the rate at which blood flowed from their veins. frozen pinned their still-twitching body to floor as they slowly died.

the gods almost wished that it had taken them longer to die. they certainly didn’t deserve a quick death.

‘they forged the valleys and plains.’

seven voices united by the covered body of their god, undivided by worldly squabbles. grudges and bitterness fell away, if only for now, seven heads bowed on seven sets of knees. even nahida, innocent as she was, had knelt alongside them here. seven prayers were lifted on seven tongues, some wavering, all weak. the scenery did little to distract when they knew they had slaughtered it’s maker.

‘mountains shaped, clouds retained.’

the burial was silent, only the sound of dirt against dirt breaking the solemn air. shimmering jade rose from the earth, obsidian lettering carving out their sin. seven were too weak to continue standing, seven sets of tears beginning to fall. seven asked for forgiveness.

‘as night turned to day turned to night again,’

none would receive it.

‘their last creation made, to their own world they ascend.’

grass and flowers were quick to grow over the unsettled dirt, risking quick uprooting for the chance to get closer. seven hearts burned. seven souls screamed.

drinks hit their tables with loud bangs. ‘who are you, bard?” a man called. ‘where have you heard such things?’

barbatos was the first to flee, unable to bear feeling their aura so long after their death. his wide wings flapped erratically, all of his usual grace lost as tears blurred his vision. the cuffs of his shirt clung to his skin, droplets of blue already staining to matter how hard he tried to scrub it out. it refused to even smudge.

he tucked his wings in and dove, barely even trying to slow his fall once he got closer to the ground, not feeling the pain in his feet. he stumbled once, twice, then collapsed at the foot of his own anemo statue.

the boy laughed, the teal on his nails matching the mirth in his eyes.

barbatos’ chest heaved, the air he commands abandoning him in his time of need. the peaceful breeze of windrise couldn’t hide the uneven beats of his heart, the cool stone behind him not soothing the burn on his face. he could see them, the golden chains of his crimes, already encircling his arms. the fingers that pulled the string stiffened with shining rings, too tight to be comfortable, his opposite palm already beginning to glow. some scrap of his consciousness mourned how it would affect his ability to play, to drink, to move, the unforgiving chains binding his actions.

the larger majority mourned his god.

‘you can call me venti.’

#*kicks down your doors* HEY YALL EVER HEARD OF PARALLELISM #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin #genshin impact #sagau impostor au #sagau zhongli #sagau venti #sagau ei #sagau raiden shogun #self aware genshin #genshin self aware au #ever-thankful that poetry is one of my hobbies 🙏🙏 how would i write my rhyme-loving bard otherwise? #venti angst #tw death #death tw #tw: death #dead reader #this. exhausts the idea of you being dead. gotta be safe abt it #this was meant to be a drabble involving the karma idea i had on… i wanna say ‘the scottish play’? #nope it was ‘death rebirth new life’. #but i recognize it covers everything but the karma… so.. #may or may not elaborate on this in the future? like with you being revived/isekai’d and he’s very teary and repentful #or maybe he refuses to even get close? unwilling to allow you to be harmed by him once more even as his chains start to cinch his lungs- #ok i need to stop before i write an essay in the tags #(but what if he /zhongli went to the grave to pay respects only to find it empty? what if THAT????) #guess who forgot a TITLE!! #edit was that i added one: it’s shit but i needed something for the m. list

[tender-rosiey]

Protective husband Dazai 💳💥💳💳💥💥💳💥

how far — dazai x f!reader

ᴀ/ɴ: this man makes me want to bark and give him my money

“y/n! I am home!” dazai sings as he enters the house happily, a grin plastered on his face. a grin that falls as fast as he opens his eyes to see what’s in front of him.

broken glass, thrown furniture and blood.

he places the groceries he had on the ground and walks deeper inside your shared house. he catches the glimpse of a badge, and his eyebrows quirk. dazai takes a hold of it and examines it, the culprit is but a foolish amateur.

because rule number one is to leave no trace.

“listen up woman,” the scruffy man in front of you starts, “you either tell us everything you know about the agency or your head will be sent to your lanky boyfriend.”

you shake your in refusal, eyes swelling from the amount of tears you have cried in the past few hours already. “keep dreaming—,” you are cut off by yourself when you scream as another harsh kick is delivered to your side.

the man in front of you sighs and approaches you, forcefully tugging your hair up so you can look him in the eyes, “well if you can’t say anything, then you should at least do something,” he grins.

“boss, there is an intrud—“ the subordinate falls to the ground as he is shot in the head.

the man throws you to the ground, looking now at his men, “EVERYONE STOP HIM!”

to his surprise, none of the men took a step without being struck down. he could see nothing but his dead men; he could see nothing but a shadow, and that alone made him smirk, “you think you’re so good at hiding?!”

“I can just shoot this woman and you would—“ the man’s words die in his mouth as he slowly looks down at the knife tickling his throat.

soon, he locks eyes with the owner of the knife behind him.

the kidnapper smirks, despite his nerves, “oh so the crazy man is already here for his little wife?”

dazai is silent, watching the man which makes him panic even more.

“what? too scared to actually slice someone? is that why you only used a gun?—“ he stops once the knife nicks his throat, a small trail of blood flowing down his neck.

dazai smiles, an empty and cold one, “you said I am crazy right?”

your husband looks at you, “y/n, close your eyes,” his gaze snaps back to your kidnapper, “I don’t want you to see this.”

you whisper a small, “okay,” before doing as told.

a knife to the throat, and a gun to his back, the man gulps and dazai soon speaks.

“you seem to have underestimated just how far,” the knife caresses the throat of the man in front of him, “a ‘crazy’ man will go for his wife.”

you hear the sound of a slash, and the shot of a gun. your husband frowns in disapproval at the body below him, and he mumbles, “a painless death is something you don’t deserve for what you did.”

he flicks the blood of the knife and rubs its handle with a cloth, and you just noticed that he is wearing gloves.

dazai puts the knife in the man’s hand before sighing and getting up.

he walks towards you, steps cautious, “love, are you alright?”

“y-yeah,” you manage to get out before your eyes meet your husband’s and they slowly drift to the corpse lying ahead, “osamu, is that okay?”

he hums as he kneels down to help you up, frown deepening at the sight of your bruises.

“forgive me for having to witness that, but he,” dark gaze directed to the man for a split second before they meet your own in a much lighter and softer way, “shouldn’t have hurt you.”

“now,” he smiles, “let’s get you home, shall we?”

you rest your head on his chest and he caresses your hair, making you sigh in relief.

osamu’a grip on you tightens and he wonders if his actions are a step forward or backward to what his friend wanted for him, but for now he will acknowledge that he will do anything for you.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @bakugossanity @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @sweetcloudsimp @waosobii

copyright © 2020 tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or i will make you kiss the pavement

#anime fluff #dazai imagines #osamu dazai x reader #dazai headcanons #dazai san #dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #dazai fluff #dazai angst #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #bsd x reader #bsd x you #dazai x fem reader

[probablyspooky]

One Of Us (Celtic x Reader) P.2

Born as if you were a yautja yourself, you join your pack to go on your right of passage trip. But running into other humans always causes problems for you.

Trigger warnings : Blood, swearing, white men of course, British people, NSFW

[Last]

The man begins to shout in agony, as if something was tearing him up from the inside out, the membrane that held him firmly against the wall glistened against his skin as he struggled to try and free himself, yet he had no strength in him. He continued to scream, begging for Lex to help him.

“Please! It’s inside me!,” He shouted, writhing in pain as his chest started protruding out, something inside of him was bumping into his ribs, desperate to free itself from the human host it had been born into.

You put your hand on the hilt of your blade, standing to attention, ready to take on this chest burster. Lex rushed to the man, grabbing at the membrane trying to free her colleague from his prison.

You rushed over to her pulling her back.

“Stop! Are you stupid?,” you shout at her, suddenly hearing the sound of bones breaking, and flesh tearing. Hearing the battle cry of a xenomorph young, you turned as it leapt out of his chest. Grasping it mid air, it struggled against your gloved hand.

“This! This is what could have killed you!” you shouted at Lex, your facial expression hidden by the mask you wore, but the sound of anger present in your voice.

Lex stared in horror at the empty chest of her friend, blood dripping from the exposed bones that were shattered by the strength of the tiny monster you now held in your hand. She stuttered nervously, clearly sad her friend is dead, but even more afraid of the anger you now had.

Celtic walked over, his heavy footsteps seemed to still clank against the slimy ground. His large hand finding its place on your shoulder, his head tilted as he clicked underneath his mask.

“She is untrained, do not waste your rage on her,” he said,  grabbing the still growling xenomorph in your hand, and snapping its neck with little to no effort.

Dropping its corpse, you stomped along, following your pack through the halls. Lex slowly walked behind.

Scar started to slow down, seeming to take pity on Lex for being unable to handle the harshness of this hunt. You were lost in your thoughts, angry that the hunt was going so wrong. If the humans hadn’t stolen the plasma casters, then this hunt will be done and over, you wouldn’t be stuck in such an awful situation. You could be at home right now on Prime, snuggled into Celtics arms in your nest, eating the sour fruits that grew on the trees.

Celtic could obviously see that you were rather…angry, though he had seen you angry before, like the one time he and his brothers crashed into the bathing room as you were soaking in the tub, or the time he knocked you into the freezing waters in the clan central fountain. Taking a deep breath, he quickened his pace to meet yours, and he scooped you up into his big arms, spinning you around.

“Oh stop!”, you growled, trying to squirm out of your mates arms, “Put me down!”

But he didn’t, Celtic nuzzled his cool mask into your neck, purring from his chest.

You could never help it when he purred to you, or when he held you this closely, you found yourself giggling uncontrollably as he continued to spin around. You straightened yourself in his arms, your eyes meeting his, he could tell he lifted you out of your funk.

Suddenly the temple shook hard, as you could hear the crumbling of ancient bricks and doors being crushed down, down by something large, something large was coming this way. Everyone turned to look down the hall, and in horror you watched as a flood of xenomorphs cackled as they rushed down the hall, followed by the queen. Her large footsteps shook the ground as she ran past. A few stragglers turned, noticing the five of you, Scar and Chopper pulled their wrist blades out, and with a roar they charged to battle. You turned to Lex, knowing she’d be a burden in battle, you rolled your eyes and rushed over to her, standing defensively ahead of her to keep her alive. Celtic nodded to you, understanding the situation you were currently in, he turned, taking his spear out, as it extended, he began to fight his way through the swarm of xenomorphs. 

While the others fought, you looked around to find any way to escape this current area you were in. Scanning the walls that began to sizzle with the blood of the xeno, you noticed one area that was sprayed could see into the other room. An idea came to your mind, as you handed Lex a blade.

“Don’t die,” you ordered, pulling your spear from your back, you pierced through the head of a xeno, and pushed it towards the hole, hitting at the wall multiple times, as its blood oozed from the exit wound of your spear, the blood began to eat away at the rubble.

The other began to catch on, as they began throwing all bloodied xeno towards your exit plan, soon after 7 or 8 of them had fallen to the hands of your pack, the hole was just big enough for Celtic to fit though. Once your pack has reached the other room, you could spot the lights coming from spot lights the scientists had left behind,

Between you and those lights, you could spot the Queen and her crowd of xeno rushing to the exit tube.

Without thinking, you took your spear, and put everything you had into the throw, sending it soaring through the air, it pierced the queen through the chest, pinning her to the ice. She let out a horrific battle scream, and all the rest of her minions rushed towards your small group.

Chopper growled, pulling out a plasma grenade, tossing it towards the group, obliterating nearly half of the swarm.

Scar clicked, impressed with his brothers and your actions against the xeno swarm, Scar pulled his throwing star, sending it towards the queen, slicing those rushing towards you in half, as he hit the back of the queens leg, slicing it clean off, a flood of her acidic blood coated the now sizzling melting ice. Celtic, wanting to show off to his brothers, and mostly you, he pulled out his spear as well, throwing it and kabobing a few xenos, melting his spear in the process.

You chuckled at your mate, as the four of you rushed to the large queen, who was still pinned to the ice, you began to type on your wrist computer as you ran, producing from it a silver orb, you threw it under the queen, where other xenos were trying to free the queen. The silver orb began to spin and glow, as the plasma shot out, the queen let out one last piercing cry, as its blood burst with plasma, sending its life.

Shielding yourselves with a plasma field, you looked back at your pack and Lex.

Scar, Chopper, and Celtic let out a battle cry, and threw their fists into the air as they claimed their victories over the xeno, and were now fully blooded yautja. They took off their masks, showing off their faces, their mandibles clicking as they acknowledged one another. You smiled, taking off your mask, turning to Lex.

“It is over,” you smile at her, your eyes checking her for any injuries, but instead your eyes trailed to the knife you had given to her prior.

“Did you…kill one?” you asked, tilting your head towards her.

She dropped the knife rather quickly.

“I had to defend myself,” she frowned, staring at the corpses that now littered the ground below.

You turned to the three and they nodded in agreement, as you knelt down before a corpse of a xeno, cutting its finger off, the green acidic blood oozing from it as you stood up, and walked over to Lex.

“With this, you are a hunter,” you said, placing the burning finger against her skin, carving the mark of the blooded to her face forever, and turning it to yourself and burning your cheek.

The five of you then walked to the entrance tube, and began to climb up. You rode on Celtics back as he climbed, Scar carried Lex, the five of you had reached the top, your wrist computers began to buzz, you all looked at them as you saw off in the distance, the mothership you had left earlier that day now turned off its cloaking devices, it now sat on the icy Earth in all its glory. Your pack walked to the main shuttle door, as it opened, the Ancient Elder walking down in his ceremonial garb as he stood ahead of you. Your brothers, your mate, and yourself knelt down as a sign of respect towards him, as he examined all your marks, clicking as if telling you that you had done a good job. He motioned for you to return to the ship, so that you may rest and return home, but then noticed the additional human standing behind you.

He growled and rushed over, grabbing Lex by her face and lifting her up to examine her, noticing the mark upon her cheek, he nodded, releasing her from his harsh grasp.

He turned to the yautja behind him, grabbing a ceremonial spear weapon, and presenting it to Lex, he extended it to its full length, and then retracted it. Placing it in her hand, he turned and boarded his ship.

Your brothers and mate boarded as well, and as you stood Lex spoke up.

“Are you really okay…?” she asked, watching you board the ship.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you replied, staring at her with a confused look.

“You…you’re not one of them.”

Celtic heard this, and quickly retreating back down the rap, he placed his hand on your waist, and pulled your small frame into his large one.

“She is one of us.” he said, in near perfect english,

He took your hand and led you aboard the ship. The docking doors closed, and the ship began to hover into space.

The excitement of returning home now washed over you as you walked to med bay to get your vitals checked over. They gave you the okay, and showed you to your temporary room, where you found a plush bed to rest your head on.

You were so excited when you began to drift off to sleep, but you heard your room doors open as you mate, Celtic walked in.

You looked at him puzzled, but soon understood, as he dropped his armor onto the floor, and removed his mask, his large mandibles clicking as his eyes scanned over you. He walked over to the bed and laid next to you, pressing your soft skin against his rough one, his tongue slithered out of his mouth, and began to gently lick in circles onto your neck. His large hands began to graze lower onto your hips, as he pressed himself into the back of you.

Small moans came from your mouth as he used his spare hand to rip your thin clothing off of your body, his hand found its way to your clit, as he gently began to swirl pleasure into your stomach, sliding a large finger into you as he continued to swirl your clit and pump into you.

You began to whimper as he continuously pumped into you, the sound of you liquids squelching around his fingers echoed in the chamber.

“Please…,” you begged your mate, gripping the smooth leather of his loincloth between your fingers as you lifted it to the side, showing off all his length of his shaft, his glistening nectar sitting upon his tip.

“You are much too impatient my love, “ he groans, shifting above you so now he was hovering over you, “After such a great hunt…I find it fitting to savor this session of ours”

You whined underneath him, practically bucking your hips against his crotch.

“Patience….” he whispered, licking your neck and slicing your bra off of your body, licking down your chest. Taking extra time to savor one of your perked up nipples. You whimpered, feeling the warm wetness coating your nipple, his free hand massaged your free nipple between his rough skin.

“Celtic…please I need you…” you whined under him, sliding off your panties and placing them on his mandibles

He let out a deep chuckle at this, and took them off of his mandibles, tossing them aside.

“Very well…my love” he says, taking his length and sliding it into your slick.

You let out a moan, feeling him stretch out your walls, he let out a deep growl, allowing your body to coat him, allowing him easier movement against you.

“Look at how you body temples for me, begs for me…You are perfect…” he growls, moving against you.

You cried out as your body shook against his strength, feeling every pulse of his cock as he rammed into you with inhuman strength.

Feeling his hips roll against you, your face flushed red, his hands began to grasp random fatty parts of your body, he growled, feeling his peak coming.

“God…you’re so…” he groaned,  shaking slightly as he felt the end nearing

You begin to whine, feeling the pool of pleasure filling in your stomach as he continued to fuck you senseless, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your climax peaks, sending your fluids onto his torso. He roared a mighty roar, filling your cup with his love as his body shakes with ecstasy. 

Later, you were curled up in his arms, taking in his scent

“I love you,” you whispered, tilting your head up to meet his gaze

“I love you too,” he replied, licking your forehead, "I am glad you are one of us”

#yautja #predator #predator x reader #yautja x reader

[azulsluver]

Heya (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ~, can I request platonic yandere took reacting to reader asking him how to use the bow or how to hunt? I think he'll be so happy to share his knowledge with someone hehe, no pressure tho and ofc u can refuse it! Hope you have a good day! :3

tw. yandere, Rook’s creepy advices, implied future stalking/possible yan!reader, animal death.

This one is a little short sorry! It’s my first time writing yandere platonic relationships. Also may have gone overboard with the request…

“Oh but Trickster! You know I’ll always be at your beck and call if danger comes your way, but who am I to decline such an offer.”

Rook dramatically yells out his proclaimed hurt, his little birdie have finally decided to leave the nest. He wonders if you ever handled dead corpses—animals to be specific..!

When it comes to hunting comes great patience, you must not blow your cover up because the prey is so close in your hands. Doing so may startle it and before you know it’ll run off. Blending in matters as well, he lets you borrow some of his hunting gears and outfits so you can blend in within nature. He tells you to keep note on not to surprise your prey by showing yourself out. You don’t want them to see you.

Oddly enough his descriptions are a little concerning if you separate the fact Rook is a skilled stalker. A little too good…

Just like that the two of you are hiding behind weaseled bushes and trees. You’re only the trees are the main key to blending in, large ones that’ll help. Rook suggested you try small, hunting a buck would be difficult for a beginner. It’s a hare that nibbles on the grass and leaves. Rook is right next to you and guiding your arms and posture, the target is little but with enough concentration it’ll work.

You can feel his breath yet it makes no noise, gloves hands helping your fingers pull at the strings as you have a tight grip on the arrow. Don’t move too much.

“If it looks at you don’t panic, instead manipulate its mind into thinking you’re there. Try not to shake dear.” Rook whispers into your ear, he sounded so serious.

You let out small puffs of shaky breaths, steadying your vision as you feel his hands move away from you.

You release.

It makes no noise as the arrow pierces it’s neck, pinning the hare to the ground. There’s a rush of excitement and glee, your hunt was successful.

“Bon Jeu! You’re a natural.”

Rook pats your shoulder as you give yourself a clap. You stare back at the hare that lays motionless on the floor, something about taking an unexpected preys life grew something in you. Like you needed more, a bigger target. Animals are precious creatures that thrive in the wild, just how good will a person be?

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #rook hunt x reader

[homicidal-slvt]

"The Gentle Giant & The Mermaid"

-

MDNI

-

König x GN!Reader

Mermaid|Y/N

-

Warnings: Fluff, Violence

-

Never trust humans.

That was a rule instilled into you from a young age, too many humans simply wanted to hunt your kind.

Taking innocent lives and treating their corpses like trophies.

Though no matter how careful- you were bound to some day make a mistake. Like so many others.

-

"There it is!!! Right there!!!"

Yells ripped through the night, you tried to dive back below the surface only to feel something tangled around your body.

Helpless screams did you no good, how you ended up in this scenario was blurry to begin with, a painful haze.

Hands grasping at your body and their skin felt so awful, it made you crawl with hate that these foul creatures dare touch you.

Thrashing desperately you finally broke free, though not before an unknown object was sank deep into your tail, blood billowing into the water around you as you swam away.

-

You laid in the sun leaned against a rock, the forest was peaceful along the shore near the creek. Nobody ever came out here so it was the perfect place.

There was some form of a harpoon lodged into your tail, hooked deep into your flesh. No matter how hard you tried you couldn't get it out.

Is this how you died? Like some sort of sad fish with a hook trapped in it's mouth?

Suddenly you were alarmed by heavy boot steps heading towards you, head snapping up and scooting closer to the waters edge- there he stood.

The biggest fucking man you have ever seen in your life.

His eyes met yours from behind his snipers hood, he looked absolutely dumbfounded as well at the sight of you- a mermaid?

An injured mermaid?

Your body tensed up naturally not trusting him, staring at him as though he was some horrid predator.

His gaze softened slightly as he studied your form, questioning how anyone could do that to you. He didn't know you but- he was aware of the tales of those who hunted mermaids for sport. He was certain this was the case for you as well.

"It's alright- I won't hurt you. I can help."

His offer sounded genuine and you didn't fail to pick up on that strong accent, you still didn't trust him but- what other choice did you have?

Either accept his help or lay here and accept your fate.

Slowly you nodded and he moved closer to you, squatting down he touched you in such a careful way. He slipped off his gloves to handle your wound.

His skin didn't feel the same- this touch wasn't the same. It didn't disgust you or make you feel hate- it was comforting.... Warm.

He's never handled a mermaid before so he was surprised by how smooth your scales were- he kind of expected them to be slimy like a fish.

The way they glinted and shined in the light was mesmerizing, his deep brown eyes never left them or your wound.

"This is going to hurt- a lot."

You took a deep breath and carefully he removed the harpoon, cautious to not cause any more damage to you.

It did hurt- so bad you thought you might pass out. Tears rolling down your cheeks as you choked out soft sobs, he did his best to talk you through it and comfort you.

Bringing out his med kit he tried to clean you up best he could and stitch you up, he wasn't sure if this was the right way to go about it- but he couldn't exactly bring you to a proper medic or something.

"It's okay. It's okay."

Finally it was over- your eyes drifted up to lock with his and you felt your breath hitch slightly.

Such a gentle giant.

"Thank you..."

You choked out softly and he simply nodded, it was difficult to look away from him. You couldn't stand the thought of not seeing him again.

You didn't know why but you were fond of this human- and he seemed fond of you as well.

"Can you come back to visit me?"

"I'll try."

-

{Yes- I HC König has brown eyes.}

-

{@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @sofasoap }

-

{More Content}

#konig x reader #konig x you #cod konig #konig fluff #konig #könig x reader #könig x you #cod könig #könig fluff #könig #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 x you #cod x reader #cod x you #cod mw2 #cod #call of duty mwii #cod mw2 fluff #cod fluff #call of duty fluff #konig call of duty #könig call of duty #cod fantasy au #konig fantasy au #könig fantasy au #call of duty fantasy au #vee's cod works

[nat-space-obsessed]

For @kinglazrus !! Super excited abt this one! I love corpse aus so I just had to do this one.

AO3 Link

"There's a shallow grave in the woods. The only marker is a stone with the name "Danny" scratched into it. Judging by the fresh-turned soil, it hasn't been empty for long."

The call came in from a hiker early in the morning.

She'd been going on her daily hike when she decided to go on a route that was different from her normal route.

When she tripped over the rock, she should have known that there was something wrong. At first, she started to walk past, and continue on her hike.

It was on her way back that she really noticed the issue.

The rock she had tripped over had writing that she didn't notice the first time.

It was a simple engraving, probably done with another rock or a different sharp tool, definitely not professionally done.

There was one word.

A name.

'DANNY'

It was at that point that she realized that the dirt path seemed to be disturbed near the edges, as if someone had gone digging.

Oh god, someone had been digging .

As she looked at the disturbed dirt, she saw something odd. It was an odd color, looking as if it had been burned or melted, blackened.

It was a bone.

A charred, dirty, old bone, covered in a material that had melted and fused to it.

It was like one of those horror stories, of certain toys made from plastic materials melting onto skin if exposed to too much heat.

She called the police station the second she was in range of a cell tower.

All the operator at the call center heard was, "God, the bones , they're black, they're burned. There's bones in the woods ."

The CSI left the station immediately.

.

..

...

"She wasn't kidding, these bones were definitely burned, but they're weird. It's more reminiscent of electrical burns. What could output enough power to burn a body so thoroughly by electrocution?" The lead CSI said. She was wearing gloves and slowly unburying the body.

The more they uncovered, the more horrified they were.

"This is a kid," A member of the team said, "Either a kid or a small person. The size of the bones indicate that the owner of this body was under 5 ft. Maybe a small kid? What name did the stone say?"

"Danny, I think, it's a little hard to read, but that looks like the right name."

"Wait, wasn't there a kid that went missing a year ago from Amity named Danny?"

"Yeah, but I thought the parents were under suspicion, with that weird lab in their basement."

"Didn't the sister call it in?" The one handling the bones said.

The case they were talking about was the case of Daniel Fenton. He had gone missing four weeks before his freshman year, except he was only reported missing when his sister came back from a college summer camp. Two weeks after he supposedly went missing.

Because of this, nobody actually figured out when he went missing. The police had searched the entire Fenton home, which had uncovered the lab in the basement of the home.

The Fentons had a portal. An interdimensional portal to some place they called the Ghost Zone, and it had corresponded with sightings of weird, translucent, flying people that had been sighted in the city.

They had been taken into custody, but then later released due to a lack of evidence. His sister was still advocating for missing children, especially kids who weren't reported until long after they vanished.

"But this body is too decomposed for only a few months. Maybe the burns accelerated it?"

"I mean, if this is the Fenton kid-"

"Don't start being a conspiracy theorist now, Sean." The lead investigator said, shaking her head.

"You never know!"

.

..

...

The coroner's office was cold. The autopsy room was colder.

The body on the table was small, a kid, wearing a plastic material that had seemed to fuse with the bones it was covering.

The bones, God the bones. They were blackened, covered in a dark material, flesh that had been burnt to a blackened crisp.

The coroner looked at the body in front of him and sighed.

The only thing he could easily use for identification that wasn't fingerprints or DNA were dental records. Luckily, while the corpse was completely desecrated, the bones were somehow intact.

He was able to take a scan of the teeth and send them off to be compared with all local dentist offices within a 50 mile radius.

It was a few minutes later when he got the ping.

There's a match.

"Shit."

.

..

...

The Fentons were in their lab when they got a phone call.

"Hello, this is Jack Fenton of Fentonworks, how can I help you?" The burly man said into the receiver.

"Hello, Mr. Fenton. This is the Briggersdale Police Department, calling you to inform you that a few days ago, we found a body in the woods. This body has been identified as the body of your son, Daniel." The voice on the other end said to him.

"What?" Jack stood with the phone in hand in shock. Maddie chose that moment to walk into the room.

"Are you okay, Jack?"

Jack thanked the officer and hung up. "They... found a body."

"A body? Why did they contact you? Where was this?"

"The next town over. The body was identified. It was Danny's."

A sharp intake of breath could be heard from Maddie. "We need to call Jazz."

"She isn't speaking to us, she'd just ignore anything we have to say to her."

"She'll listen, it's about Danny."

.

..

...

Jazz Fenton had been having a good day. She had only one class that morning, her favorite introduction to developmental psychology course, and she had just finished speaking with her roommate about their date next weekend with their longtime girlfriend. She was happy for them. She was having a good time, reading one of her favorite books at her desk.

It was a good day, until she got the phone call.

It was from her parents.

She refused the call at first. This was the third time that week her parents had tried to contact her, and the third time she refused their call.

Usually they stopped trying to call her, and just left her a few texts after she refused their call, but this time was different.

She should have known something was wrong.

"What is it? I thought I told you guys to never contact me again." Jazz spoke before either of her parents could even get one word out.

"Jazz... They found it."

"What, what did they find?" Jazz stood up. She was really getting annoyed now, with them being all cryptic towards her.

"His body. Jazz, they found Danny's body."

Jazz's phone slipped out of her hands.

What?

They found his body. They found his body.

Oh god, he was actually dead.

Jazz knew after the first few days she realized her brother was missing that the chances of finding him again were slim to none, and after the first two weeks, she knew that she would probably sooner see a body bag than see her brother alive again.

But this? This made it real.

He was dead.

He was gone .

She was never going to see him again.

Oh god, this was real .

She stared in front of her. She stared at the wall.

Her knees gave out and she slumped to the ground.

She could feel her eyes well up with tears.

She could hear her roommate shouting her name and kneeling in front of her as she sobbed, crying and trying to say anything, but no words would come out of her mouth.

Oh god, she had to tell Sam and Tucker.

No way would her parents even know that he had them as his friends, and they were always the first people that she gave updates to, even before her parents. They deserved to know he was... dead. That they had found his body.

.

..

...

Sam and Tucker were hanging out at Tucker's house when Sam's phone rang.

She picked it up, recognizing the number as Jazz's.

Tucker watched as emotions crossed her face, beginning with worry, and ending in dread.

"Oh my god. Tucker. They found it."

“Shit.” He said.

“Shit.” She nodded in agreement.

#corpse au #danny phantom #ao3 fanfic #danny fenton #phic phight #phic phight 2024 #fanfiction #a couple ocs #but not really #Sam and tucker #they know something you don't #they know something you will never know #angst #kind of #description of a corpse #My forensic knowledge comes from trye crime and the show Bones #innacurate forensics #maybe #idk #sam and tucker just looking at each other like 'oh no #might do a part 2

[sasster]

Puzzling

We’re really earning that title of Timeline Jumper now, folks.

Can I interest you in another blast from the past?

—

Trolls are not known for giving too much attention to their dead, short of dispatching them so thoroughly that they do not return as the shambling members of a daywalking horde, their fates aren’t really worried after. A corpse is burnt or sent to the ditches, never to be considered again. That’s just how it is. Clowns are much the same, if not worse, a crushed skull keeps the daywalkers away and someone else will be by to clean up the mess. Maybe. Or some wild animal will pick it apart. Or the sun would come along and swelter it so thoroughly, baking the rot into it in such a way that no one will want to touch it. Who cares?

All of this to say that it came as quite a shock when the three leaders of this particular subjuggulator sect set aside some actual space in an unused cellar for one of their followers to tend to their dead. Somehow this strange man convinced them that this would be a service to the Messiahs. Why would we leave our sisters and our brothers to fester as a prize for their glory? What sort of legacy does that leave behind? And it worked. From then on fallen subjuggulators would be dragged back to that strange man in his strange den and arrangements would be made for them.

Perhaps this ability to get the crowd on his side is what drew Harlan to him in the first place. The visits started infrequently enough, just a little something to satisfy an itch of curiosity, but steadily they grew into a routine as his fascination with the man started to rise.

Harlan sits with his hands folded into his lap, watching the peculiar mortician flit about, with grace, the fresh wave of bodies that’d been brought down to him. The careless way with which the average troll tends to handle the dead means that many of them were worse for wear, their appearances left a lot to be desired, by the time they made it down to him. But his magic of prepping the dead never seemed to wane, he always got it done. Today the wave included only three fresh corpses; This one needed a portion running up their side stitched shut, that one had a trocar needle and tubing placed beside him for cavity filling, and the last was made ready for embalming fluid to be sent through their veins.

The smell of formaldehyde hangs heavy in the air. It used to be that the chemical smell of the morgue clung to his senses and made it difficult to sit still and enjoy the process, but as his visits became more frequent so too did his tolerance for the sting in his eyes and the muddling of his sense of smell start to rise.

His gaze falls on the hands of the mortician, as it often does, as he returns to the cadaver in dire need of stitches, learned hands navigating around the bulk of the black nitrile gloves that encase them with ease to weave a fine thread through the infinitesimal eye of a needle on the first try. 

Silence always suited the pair and as such, sometimes these sessions would pass in their entirety with barely a word passed between them. Harlan appreciated having a place away from the rowdy going-ons of the church above them and especially from the odd friends Orfuse has a tendency of bringing around his hive, so he rarely finds himself being the one to break that silence.

Rarely does not mean never, however.

“How is a cadaver any different?” He asks when the needle pierces the skin with a squelch that must be more audible to the mortician situated just above the source.

Thanat does not look up from his work, one deft hand pinching the offending wound while the other goes through the motions of suturing it shut. “Different from what, Harls?”

His own idle hands tingle as the neat row of stitches are neatly closed off and tied shut.

“From touching people, how do they differ?”

The mortician shrugs, dropping the needle into a tray of discarded instruments and moves on to the trocar needle that awaited him. “Well, to start, I am still wearing gloves.” He holds one of his hands up for emphasis and wiggles his fingers. Harlan exhales a humored breath and rolls his eyes. They both know what he meant.

He pierces the abdomen with the trocar, and surely being so near the contents of a stomach cavity would be a germaphobe’s nightmare, but he does not flinch. He instead goes about inserting the tubing necessary for draining. Harlan has seen him do it a handful of times, so he is not surprised, only ever fascinated with the mortician.

“I think there is something cleansing about death,” he explains, in the middle of trading the sullied gloves for a pair of new ones. “It is different because they are cleansed, I guess.”

Harlan moves to cross one leg over the other, bringing a hand up to rest his chin upon. He lets out a thoughtful hum. “What a strange mind you have, Thanat Lycaon.”

“No more puzzling than yours, Harlan Mahkir,” he says with just the faintest of smiles. “Besides, there are not many trolls tending to the dead around here. Someone has to do it.”

“Unless you count Lenore, of course.”

“Carrion birds provide a different form of tending, I’m afraid.”

Harlan only hums again, still humored, distracted anew by the mortician handling his instruments and cadavers when he takes up moving about again.

#coko writes sometimes #thanat #long post #uhhhh #is that really all my tags????

[cherrysweather]

I’ve been obsess with this idea for a while, so I’d I’m one of the lucky Ducks … Anyone from the original AA trilogy who has the Medical Examiner as an S/O, but the medical examiner is selectively mute and prefers to talk to their deceased “patients”.

Heey anon! Nice to meet you <3

I choose two "new" characters to this blog, but I hope my choices will please you.

Enjoy and drink water regularly! ^^

-------------------------------------------

Phoenix Wright, Mia Fey, Dick Gumshoe and Jake Marshall x medical examiner S/O with selective mutism, but talk with their patients:

Phoenix Wright:

Since starting his law career (and Mia's case), Phoenix never handled the presence of dead bodies well;

Or whatever reminded him of one;

So you two rarely talked about their work;

Phoenix was one of the few people to whom they talked the most;

They felt free from all the things that blocked their voice and Phoenix quickly learned what tone of voice to use with them;

He also understands that they may have moments in which they prefer to just stay silent, even when with him;

When out with him, however, things drastically change;

They always stay close to him, let him do all the talking in every context and when people they don't know approach them and try to establish a conversation their throat tightens, they just stare and let their trembling hands talk;

All these problems, however, seem to disappear whenever they're at work, in their gown, hands tight in the gloves and religious silence;

Every day a new story, everyday a new someone to be with for hours;

Someone who doesn't talk, doesn't judge;

That's probably the reason why they find it so easy to talk with them;

It's strange, and they know it, but in some way they release all the stress in them;

Phoenix came to know when Gumshoe told him they heard them speaking inside the morgue, noticing there were just them and the "patients";

Phoenix never said anything, he tried to understand but never confronted them in a judicious, disgusted way;

He was just curious and didn't find it that strange, considering what he had been through and those around him.

Mia Fey:

Mia knew a bit of psychology, so she noticed almost immediately that they weren't able to speak in certain social contexts;

She tries to prevent them from getting into an anxious state by observing both their behavior and the people around them;

She likes to have them around when she works, so when it's sure that no one else is supposed to be in the office, they follow her and help with cases;

Mia likes to follow them to work as well, but she isn't allowed in the morgue or the laboratories, so she just waits somewhere nearby, making them know that if needed, she is in the area;

They told them about their habit, both because they wanted her to know and to ask for some advice to overcome this problem;

Surely it helped that she spoke outside the house, but maybe trying to have conversations with someone a little bit more lively would help more;

When together, Mia always tries to connect them with the outside by asking them to do something for her, if she's speaking with someone she tries to engage them too, in the conversation;

If they aren't able to do it anyway, Mia knows how to respect that and just let them interact with her.

Dick Gumshoe:

Gumshoe was always interested in their work;

He never understood a word about medicine, or anatomy, or anything of the sort;

But whenever the victims of his cases are handled by them, he makes sure to never miss a detail and if he doesn't understand, they will gladly explain to him;

However he finds it a little "strong" to be constantly inside a cold, silent room with a corpse you have to analyse in minimum details, even cut them if necessary;

Whenever they have business at the police station, he tries his best to be around them and spare them any kind of anxiety attack;

He never understood completely their difficulty with speaking in public, so sometimes he might be insensitive, but not in a malicious way;

He just doesn't get it, give him some time;

He once heard them talking to themselves when he was on his way to their "office";

But then he peeked at the door and saw they were talking while working;

Strangely, he completely got how much easier it was for them to "talk" with someone who didn't give them any kind of feedback, and thus no anxiety;

They tried to explain to him everything, so he wouldn't think badly of them;

But, sincerely, Gumshoe saw worse in his career, and as said, he didn't find that strange at all;

But probably they felt embarrassed knowing that Gumshoe knew their "habit";

So he always makes sure that whenever he wants to come visit, he warns them and doesn't burst in without them knowing.

Jake Marshall:

Jake was the one who introduced them to this work;

When they started specializing , he often posed as their professor of anything concerning the law and the investigation field;

He mostly did so whenever they had questions that couldn't bring themselves to ask his actual professors;

When they finally managed to graduate and get the job in his same division, whenever he could, he was with them;

He was always fascinated by this kind of work, so the two of them often started conversations about it;

(Mostly them explaining medical things to him, since he doesn't understand anything);

When together, he makes everything possible to keep them comfortable, but he also spurs them to overcome their anxiety, both at the office and in public;

That's because he clearly sees their difficulties in everyday life;

One day, when they were together at the morgue, he was checking some documents when he heard them talk;

He turned to answer but saw that they weren't talking to him;

Few seconds of silence before he giggled it off;

"What do they say about it?";

They shushed him and just hid their embarrassment, but at the same time were glad he didn't mock them;

If they thought talking with their patients could help, he was more than happy to leave them alone;

Even if he'll miss seeing them at work.

#ace attorney #ace attorney x reader #ace attorney headcanon #ace attorney headcanons #phoenix wright #phoenix wright ace attorney #phoenix wright headcanons #phoenix wright x reader #mia fey #mia fey x reader #mia fey headcanons #dick gumshoe #dick gumshoe x reader #dick gumshoe headcanons #jake marshall #jake marshall x reader #jake marshall headcanons

[blackberryshortcake]

Witches’ Wrath

I Can Get to Hell Much Faster Than You pt.2

Part 1

The man I’ve learned to call Sebastian lead me to what assumed was a guest room in this labyrinth that boy called home. Out of a small wardrobe in the corner of the room he produce a dress.

“Put this on. Can’t have you looking like that in front of the young master.”

“Like what?” I glance down at my clothes. Modern in design, black skin tight jeans that belled out at the bottom covering the top of my black boots the kind you’d assume were slippers but were suited for everyday wear, and a simple grey zip up hoodie.

Rather than answering my question he continued on.

“You sure have grown comfortable in your new world. Do all women wear clothing that leaves little to the imagination or has human society simply forgotten proper etiquette.”

I snatch the dress out of his gloved hands. It was simple cream in color something you’d probably see a corpse wearing or in a photo of a long dead relative.

“When did you get all high a mighty.”

The demon who stood before was almost unrecognizable. Bowing to the hand of a boy and playing servant so easily. Corvus has always been, well not necessarily kind but not as viscous or violent as many others of his kind to be. He was proper in nature but now he’s different, posh is the right word I think. What was so special about the boy that he was able to whip this demon into a right and high-class British asshole that stood before you.

The tension in the air was palpable.

“Do you require any assistance in dressing?” He asked almost looked amused.

“No I think i can handle it, thanks”

“Very well I will return in precisely 15 minutes the young master would like to have word with you in his study.” He pull a pocket watch from his waist coat, glanced at it and left.

The dress was uncomfortable and odd something you hadn’t worn the likes of in years and you had hope to keep it that way. After a bit of a struggle and many curses for deaf ears the hellish invention was on and I promptly heard a knock on the door.

“My Lady?”

“I’m not your lady Corvus stop callin me that.”

“My apologies may I come in.”

“Yeah sure whatever.”

His eyes widened slightly they landed on me. He almost looked shocked. Almost.

“So we gonna go see the kid or not.”

“Ah yes, right this way”

He lead me through many halls and turns if I had been any less of a demon I suppose I would have been lost. We come to a stop in front of yet another mahogany door. He knock before opening it a gesturing me inside.

“Sebastian leave us.”

“Yes my lord”

He stood facing the window a fool would think he was deep in thought but I guess I see past that.

It was him who broke the unbearable awkward silence

“Sit” said as though I’m some sort of dog. Like the one he turned Corvus into.

We sat facing each other a large antique desk in between us.

“So tell me how exactly do you know my butler.”

“I’ve known him for a long time”

“I didn’t ask how long you’ve known him I asked how you met him.” The venom in his words would be more intimidating if he wasn’t but a child.

“ I met him in a field of buttercups and forget-me-nots after I was burnt at the stake.”

“I’m sorry?” he was slightly taken aback by my brashness.

“Can I tell you a story? Normally I don’t just go tellin just anyone this story but since you’ve got a friend of mine wrapped around your skrawny finger I figured I’d extend the courtesy.”

“Go on” he was pissed

“The was a girl once in a small village in the new world. Her and her mother settled there, her father had died just about 2 winters prior. And when that girl came of age one of the older men in the town, I think he was percher if I remember right ,took upon himself to marry that girl off since she had no daddy to do it for her. And when that girl refused they labeled her a witch and then tied her up and peraded her around the village. Scorn her and accuse her of frolicking with the devil, But when they tied her to that stake she swore and she cursed them. She burned but never felt it and when she woke she was in a meadow. A man sat atop a rock nearby dark hair bewitching to the foolish and he spoke to her took her under his ebony wing and taught her to fight taught her how to seek revenge on those who wronged that poor girl.” My voice trailed off and I felt a tear hit my hand in my lap.

“So let me guess your that girl.”

“Maybe I am.”

“I suppose I never saw Sebastian as the nurturing type.” Oh how I wanted to punch that smug look off his face.

“You only know what he wants you to know…..You may think you’re in control but he could kill you if he so pleased right his very moment without a second thought. You’re lucky you caught one with some sorta fucked up morals. Demons they’re funny creatures they don’t exist to temp humans as many assume they exist solely for population control. Can’t have to many souls running around in the afterlife now can you.there simply isn’t enough room.”

“Tell me this, what kind of demon are you if you don’t consume souls”

“I make deals. Imma Dream demon. I think some call us masters of the mind. Only a hand full of us exist.”

“There is more like you wandering about.”

“Only a few, only other one I met is Bill and he’s a certified psycho, he was there at the beginning of time and I’m sure he’ll be there at the end. Just consider yourself lucky yah met one that has some sorta humanity left.”

“Humanity that’s a laugh” He seemed to pause for a moment to think before speaking once more. “I’d like to make a deal”

“Yeah and what kinda deal is that”

“I will permit you to stay here in my manor while you figure out your…situation and in return I want you to gather all the information you can on my butler.”

“So you want me to spy on him. Someone I’ve know for just over 300 years. For a boy I met less than two hours ago.”

“Yes” the answer was so nonchalantly I almost believed this little shit.

“How about this I stay here and with Corvus and he helps me with my…situation and in return I’ll protect you and you may have my arsenal of power at your disposal.”

“The power you no longer have” his response was smug almost like he thought he had a checkmate locked and loaded.

“Imma helluva lot stronger than you think”

“Deal”

We both stood and I offer my hand to him engulfed in a souls flame that is ablaze of bright green. The kinda flame that produced no heat but a light that burns just as bright as the stars. He hesitated but reached for my hand. The moment our skin touch I felt it my eyes were white and I could feel and see any and every memory this child ever experienced. I could feel in the moment he feared me. But it was all over just as soon as it had begun. And I was on my way out the door.

“See yah around pip squeak”

The second that heavy mahogany door shut I was grabbed by the throat and slammed into the nearest wall. Corvus was pissed I could feel his breath on my face while I fight to catch my own once more.

“What exactly gives you the right to fill his head with those thoughts.” Anger and malice in every syllable he spoke.

“Did I stick a nerve Sebastian”

His gloved hand around my throat tightens.

“All-all I did was tell him the truth and he wanted to make a deal. Last time I checked that’s not against the rules.” When in the hell did he get so strong.

“Ciel Phantomhive’s soul belongs to me”

That stupid fucking accent of his was really pissing me off

“I don’t want his soul and anyways what the big deal with it anyways? There are plenty of other souls just like his. If I had the power to right now I could leave and come back with 10 just like it and 20 that are even better.”

“That simply isn’t the matter at hand” he’s loosened his grip but he was still impossible close to me.

“Oh it’s not is it. Do you understand how fucking Insane this all is. I saw inside his head when we shook hands and how had i don’t know CPS not been called or some shit. Now don’t get me wrong the modern world I’ve called home is no better but at least someone would say something about all this” gesturing around me. “Not to long ago I finally realized where I had heard the Phantomhive name before I new the boys daddy once upon a time and the fact of the matter is you have what a 14 year old boy running a business and working for the queen like he’s not yah know a child” I may be a demon but I was still once human.

“The young master is quite mature for his age.”

“You and I both know you could have given that kid his revenge a real long time ago and put him out of his misery. Yah know what I think? I think you like it here. I think you berated me for going “soft” but you’re ending up just like me.”

His eyes burned with the fury of a thousand fires, but no response was given.

“Whatever” I push him off me and head down the hall but not before promptly flipping him the bird.

I really need to get outta this dress.

After finally changing back into my clothes I decided it was high time I explored this manor in the process I met May-Rin the maid who was to clumsy for her own good. Finny who was outside in the garden in the process of kill a rosebush with “fertilizer”. Tanaka a small older gentleman who I presume was another butler and last but not least baldroy who was frantically exiting a smoke filled kitchen when what I can only assume was the demon whisky by me to put out said fire.

The “cooks” eyes met mine and he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“You lost or something miss”

He had a thick accent the kind you’d figure a chimney sweep or a Mary poppies character would have.

“No, just wandering I suppose”

“We’ll I don’t think Mister Sebastian would like you wandering down here”

That’s when Sebastian’s thick voice cut through the air

“She is perfectly fine where she is. You however have once again ruined a perfectly good meal. Do you care to explain yourself.”

By this time he’d come out of the ashen kitchen to the hallway

“Thought it might cook faster, yah know”

Sebastian sighed and pinched his nose.

“You are responsible for cleaning that mess up I have other matters to attend to” with that he once again checked his pocket watch and briskly walked past me. I’m surprised he didn’t shoulder check me as he did.

He’s different than he was when it last saw him something odd years ago. Not just his looks although I don’t mind the form he has taken now with that pitch black hair and amber eyes. He’s just tall enough to be intimidating but not to tall as to be awkward. He’s simply handsome but his personality is different when we first ran into each other he almost seemed like he cared for me as I believed he did long ago. Now he’s cold, calculating, not vicious or vial as many demons are but his eyes a see of resentment towards me or the world. I do not know.

There however is one thing I know I better clean my act up and get the fuck outta dodge so I never have to see this god forsaken era again. So I never have to see him again.

…continuandum…

Though I’d take a second crack at it. Feel free to give feed back.

Ps here’s Pt.3

#sebastian michaelis x reader #black butler #black butler x reader #black butler x you #black butler x y/n #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #fanfic #sebastian x you #sebastian x y/n

[fuck-customers]

Tw: GROSS

People who treat gas stations like garbage dumps have a special place in hell. I don't care if you're on a long road trip and you're stopping for chips and energy drinks at 2 in the morning and you'll never see us again, it's a dick move and you're disgusting for letting all that shit pile up in your car. Here's just a few of the worst things I witnessed:

Drywall (which left powder everywhere)

Dirty sleeping bags that have been shat and pissed on

A rusty car engine (very heavy)

Gasoline soaked slippers (had to put the whole bag in with our hazardous waste, which should only be used for spills)

And my personal favorite: What felt and smelled like a cubic ton of rotten meat. Could have been animal corpses for all I know, but I didn't dare check the bag's contents.

On a side note about the drywall there was a HUGE issue with unregulated drywall made in China from 2001 to 2008 that is kind of dangerous. Be careful handling it. Like be safe and wear gloves before handling.

-Rodney