gogogodzilla

[gogogodzilla]

Outlast: Death Scenes

Series Masterlist

Jessica

00:12

Pain radiated through Jessica’s skull like a shockwave from where the creature’s claws dug into her scalp. Her limbs flailed against the snow as she panicked, struggling to release herself from its grip.

She could barely think, barely comprehend what was happening to her.

One minute she was inside the cabin, the next she was being dragged through the snow, the cold stinging her less-than-properly clad body.

All she can do is call out for Mike and pray that he saves her.

The creature growls, exposing its sharp teeth, and throws her onto some sort of metal contraption, rusty chains swinging from the impact. Where the hell did it take her?

Before she could even try to discern her surroundings, the creature looms over her and shoves its long fingers in her mouth and down her throat.

She wasn’t sure if she started gagging because of the sudden intrusion or the smell. The creature’s spindly fingers reeked of rotten meat, making her eyes water instinctively.

Suddenly the creature pulled down on her jaw. Hard.

Her last thought was of Mike. She almost thought she could hear his voice calling out for her.

Matt

02:25

Matt’s head pounded as he finally came to, wincing as he tried to take in his surroundings.

He was all alone. He can still feel the ghost of Emily’s touch when he reached down for her, before they both dropped into the depths below.

But Matt couldn’t see her anywhere. She probably fell even deeper than he landed, maybe all the way to the bottom of where the mines finally stopped.

How hurt was she? Was she even still alive?

But he knew if there was anyone who could survive that kind of fall, it would be someone so endearingly stubborn as Emily.

Maybe he could have helped her if he jumped off the radio tower sooner, but no way was he just going to abandon her like that. She had to know that he tried. She was probably terrified, even more so than he was.

Small fires from the debris of the radio tower were the only sources of light as he stood up, trying to take in his surroundings.

He started passing through the cave-like structure he landed in, a limp present in his leg.

“Emily!”

No response.

Something rustled behind him, and he turned to see what made the noise.

But someone—something grabbed onto his back, its claws digging into his shoulders hard enough for pain to shoot through his body. An animal?

Matt tried to wrestle himself free, digging his heels into the ground in a feeble attempt to gain his freedom. But whatever got ahold of him had inhuman strength.

He couldn’t turn his head to see what was behind him, and his imagination conjured visions of the most vile creatures he could think of.

He was finally lifted off the ground, but as the thing that restrained him moved him all about, the glint of rusty metal from an array of hooks caught his eye. And he was moving closer and closer to them.

Matt’s screams of help were still echoing along the cave walls as he was hoisted up onto one of the hooks.

Chris

04:30

“Oh, fuck!”

Chris really underestimated how tricky it was to shoot an impossibly fast moving target with a shotgun.

The shotgun jolted in his hands with each deafening blast, and every missed shot felt like another line etched in his own tombstone.

Only one shell had grazed the thing so far—just enough to slow it, not stop it.

His mind raced faster than his feet. What happened to Josh? What about Tex? Would she save him? What about Ashley, and those back at the lodge? Were they safe?

With his shitty aim, he could only rely on his speed. And even that was running out.

Then he finally spotted the dim lights of the cabin, a small flicker of hope in the night.

“Ashley!”

He couldn’t see her yet, but just the idea of her, safe and alive, was enough to keep driving him forward.

But Chris never looked back. He failed to turn and see that the wendigo had caught up to him. He had no time to react before it pounced.

Emily

04:50

For the first time in her life, Emily didn’t know what to say.

She was never one to be speechless—always wanting to be on top, saying something snippy to piss other people off, but now?

Now her mouth hung slightly open, her breath caught somewhere between fury and disbelief.

She could hear the others yelling. Tex, Mike, and Sam were all arguing, and Ashley—the damn coward—was crying, even though she was at fault for all of this. All of Emily’s friends were massive overreactors which led to more problems than solutions. The noisy chaos of the basement felt like background noise now. Muffled. Far away.

Everyone was freaking out, but she was the one with the goddamn loaded gun pointed at her face.

And it was fucking Mike who was pointing it at her, out of all people.

You date a guy for almost two years and he still finds a way to fuck you over.

He stood before her like a stranger, cold and detached, as if he wasn’t currently holding her life in his hands.

Him and his massive ego, always wanting to play God, the hero, the casanova.

Emily shrunk into herself, sitting on the small desk as Mike grew more and more agitated. She wanted to cry, to scream, to curse him out, but she was exhausted.

She hated to admit it, but she wasn’t in control anymore. She didn’t know how to save herself.

She hoped for a miracle.

She hoped her friends cared about her enough to not let her be killed.

Emily didn’t even have time to register the sound of the gun going off before the bullet hit her.

Ashley

05:25

“Help me!”

Ashley stopped in her tracks. That voice. It was unmistakable.

“Jessica? Is that you?”

Ashley kept her steps light, each step as cautious as the next, hesitantly following Jessica’s cry.

As she moved closer, the voice only got more and more clear. She knew for sure that Jessica was in here somewhere needing help.

Ashley had already made one terrible mistake today. If only she just listened and kept her mouth shut, Emily might still be alive.

But now, the opportunity to save her friend was placed on a silver platter and handed directly to her. It was as if the universe was presenting her with the perfect way to make up for her previous error.

“In here!”

Jessica’s voice was coming from directly underneath her. The wooden panels of the door were banging.

This time, Ashley didn’t hesitate as she opened the trap door to save her friend.

The last thing she remembers was confusion when Jessica was nowhere to be seen.

Then, darkness.

Mike

6:52

Mike knew the second he reached Sam’s spot that he wasn’t making it out of here alive. He didn’t have time to even register what that would mean before the wendigo dug its claws into the sides of his neck and flung him across the room as if he weighed nothing.

It was always the same with him. He didn’t think. He just moved.

He’s been starting to realize that it's not only a habit, but a bad one. After all, him not thinking is the reason for all of this happening in the first place—

No. He shouldn’t dwell on that anymore.

Maybe it all was his fault. But he can’t change the past now, and the consequences of his actions have already led to a spiral of hurt and destruction. The damage has already been done. All he could do was move forward and be better. Help his friends instead of harm them.

The glass from the light bulb bit into the skin of his hand as he shattered it, but the adrenaline rushing through his veins masked the pain. It was getting more difficult to breathe with every second, and Mike knew he had to act fast.

He looked up at Tex. They had been friends for so long; they never needed words to get their points across to each other. Not before, not now.

He could see in her eyes all she wanted to say—thank you, I’m sorry, I forgive you.

He knows her thanks isn’t just one of gratitude. It’s of forgiveness—for herself, and for him. And having her forgiveness is a comforting thought to die with.

She starts running, and Mike readies himself for impact.

“Hey! Come and get me, you fuckers!”

If there’s one thing Mike is good at, it’s never going down without a fight.

Josh

???

He was hungry. So hungry.

What was he supposed to do?

They all left him. Again.

He should have never trusted them. Never gotten his hopes up.

He didn’t know how long he had been done there for.

The voices of his sisters were getting louder and louder in his head.

It’s your fault. Look what you did to us.

And he did look. Beth was in pieces, her body rotting away. And Hannah–poor Hannah.

She was unrecognizable, yet she remembered him. The mountain had chewed her up and spit her out, leaving only a hollow shell of what she once was.

He didn’t know what to believe anymore. Didn’t know how to discern what was real from what was in his mind. All he knew was that he was hungry. His mouth watered.

And so he ate.

He ate, and he ate, and he ate.

But nothing satiated the hunger. Pain radiated in his stomach. The bodies of his friends filled him, yet there was still a feeling of emptiness that could never be replaced.

He felt himself transform. Be born again. Maybe this was his chance to start anew.

And then–

Voices.

Did he recognize them? He wouldn’t know.

He turned, drool escaping from his mouth.

Josh just found his new meal.

Chapter Twelve || Interviews

[gogogodzilla]

Outlast: Epilogue (Sam Giddings x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Sam

Some Years Later ; Los Angeles

6:00

Sam wakes up to her work alarm.

She’s bleary eyed, and really wants to go back to bed. She considers it for a moment, before relenting and tossing the covers off her body and sitting up, swinging her legs over the bedside.

Tex would be upset with me if I skip work again, she thinks.

Maybe upset wasn’t the right word. Disappointed, more like. Which was arguably worse.

Sam’s various pill bottles are placed in a neat array on her bedside table, no doubt the work of her girlfriend.

She sighed, feeling hopeless with just how much she needed to be medicated, even all these years later.

But Sam was trying. It had been a long time since Blackwood Mountain, since the unimaginable tragedy that took place. Since her life was forever changed. Yet the memories were still fresh. She can still feel the bite of the cold winter air, the burst of heat from when the lodge exploded, the terror when Josh was chasing her around in that maniacal costume.

There’s still a scar on her arm from that night. From what exactly, she wasn’t entirely sure of. All she knew was that it was a painful reminder of all that she endured.

Thinking about it all only made it worse, and so she instead turns her attention to the framed photo that hasn’t left her bedside table. She studies it–studies her friends.

Emily.

Mike.

…Hannah.

And… you.

Your eyes had a shine to them in the photo, as they always do when you smile. Your arm was wrapped around her waist, throwing up a peace sign to the camera. You, who saved her. You, who loved her through it all. You, who dealt with her nightmares, her outbursts, her endless crying–

A knock interrupts her thoughts.

“I’m up.”

“Good morning,” you say in a playful sing-song voice.

You open up the bedroom door, balancing a plate of pancakes in one hand and a glass of orange juice tucked in your elbow ditch.

You yawn, and she sees that you’re still clad in your pajamas. Your shorts hang low on your hips, exposing the band of your underwear.

“Now it certainly is.” Sam smirks, overtly eyeing you up and down. When you round the bed and hand her the plate, she kisses your cheek. “Thank you, baby.”

“Made it with lots of love, just for you.”

She inspects at the pancakes, noticing the edges of them are burnt.

“Maybe a little too much.”

You plop down on the bed next to her, your legs tangling with hers.

You silently watch her as she starts eating before piping up. “Another nightmare?”

Sam furrows her brows. You were always so good at taking one look at a face and knowing what thoughts were racing through your head.

She swallows a forkful of pancakes. “Don’t think you can have those when you’re awake.”

You sigh, wrapping an arm around her waist, your thumb soothingly rubbing into her skin. “It’s gonna take time. Don’t rush the healing process.”

“I’m fine. I promise.”

You give her a look. The I-know-you’re-lying-to-me-right-now look.

“You’re starting to sound like my therapist.”

An amused smile appears on your face. “Maybe I can do that as a side gig.”

She rolls her eyes and snorts before taking a deep breath. She holds your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. “Actually…I think I’m ready.”

It takes a second for it to register what she means by that. Then you raise an eyebrow. “You sure?”

Sam looks at her feet. The various books of wendigo lore lent to you both by your parents lay at her feet. Post-its scattered with notes from her late night readings remain inside of them. She read all of the books cover to cover, multiple times over. She just needed to understand, to have some semblance of control.

She remembers how hesitant you were to speak to them right after the incident, having to admit that their obsessive planning and scare tactics wasn’t just the work of crazy, overprotective parents but ones that were actually trying to prepare you.

But instead of I-told-you-so’s you were met with sympathy and understanding–and most importantly, an offer of real training, a way to fight back against these creatures, and all of the others that existed out there.

Sam nods. “I need this. We need this. I think it’ll help with” –she gestures to her head– “all of this.”

You stand up, stretching as you do so. “Alright. I’ll go call my parents. They’ll be happy to know that we want in on their hunts.”

Interviews ||

[gogogodzilla]

Outlast: Interviews

Series Masterlist

Sam Room 1 ; 11:02

Interviewer: Samantha–

Sam: It’s Sam.

I: Alright, Sam, can you tell me about your relationship with Joshua Washington?

S: I thought we were close. After his sisters disappeared, he would always come and talk to us. Seemed to be doing a lot better each time.

I: And by us you mean…

S: Tex.

I: Tex?

S: My girlfriend.

I: Care to elaborate more?

S: No.

Tex Room 3 ; 11:26

Interviewer: So,–

Tex: It’s Tex.

I: Interesting nickname. How’d you get that one?

T: You don’t need to know.

I: I just spoke with Sam.

T: How is she?

I: Let’s focus on you now.

T: No. Tell me how she’s doing and then I’ll answer your questions.

Sam Room 1 ; 11:08

Interviewer: You two got really lucky out there.

Sam: I’m the lucky one. She was probably the only one who stood a chance.

I: What do you mean?

S: She was like my rock. She stayed calm even when shit hit the fan. Constantly running around, trying to save everyone. She always knows what to do. It’s something I love about her.

Tex Room 3 ; 11:31

Interviewer: So this was all because of Josh?

Tex: Don’t word it like that. It wasn’t his fault. He needs help.

I: Needed.

T: If you say so.

I: You think Josh is still alive?

T: I think you guys didn’t know what you were looking for out there.

Sam Room 1 ; 11:14

Sam: It’s my fault that Mike’s dead. I wasn’t supposed to move. But I stumbled and he saved me. So it’s my fault that he died.

Interviewer: If you need someone to talk to–

S: I’m fine.

I: Sometimes after a traumatic experience–

S: I said I’m fine.

Tex Room 3 ; 11:37

Interviewer: It seems like you were pretty prepared for everything to happen, all things considered.

Tex: Prepared? No. Quick on my feet? Yes. Besides, we had some help. If I didn’t have Sam or–or Mike–I probably wouldn’t be here talking to you.

I: Mike? Who you’d been fighting with?

T: Listen, we patched things up, alright? There wasn’t really any time to deal with petty drama when our lives were in danger.

I: Like Emily’s?

T: I fucking told you that I tried to stop that. What the fuck else what I supposed to do? He didn’t mean to shoot her. He wouldn’t.

I: Calm down–

T: Fuck you. I am calm.

Sam Room 1; 11:18

Sam: You need to listen to me. I don’t care if you believe me or not. Doesn’t matter because you will. You need to go down to the mines.

Interviewer: What’s in the mines, Sam?

S: I’ve seen what’s down there, and I’d give anything to unseen it.

Tex Room 3 ; 11:41

Tex: Don’t I get a phone call or some shit? I’d like to use that now.

Interviewer: You’re not in trouble. What’s so urgent?

T: I need to call my parents. I think they’ll really want to hear about this.

Death Scenes || Epilogue

[gogogodzilla]

Can’t believe it’s over 🥲 absolutely loved reading this and pestering you for updates

Outlast: Chapter Twelve (Sam Giddings x Reader)

Vindication

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.5K

6:08

The next time you get out of the water, you’re sure it will be the last. 

A metal door stands in front of you, and Sam lifts the bar, opening it up swiftly.

“Woah!”

All three of you fall back as water comes rushing out of the room and towards you. 

Water isn’t the only thing that comes cascading at you—the decaying head of the stranger washes up, its half-eaten face staring up, dead eyes pointing aimlessly above you.

“So fucking gross,” Sam comments, standing up and shaking water off of herself. 

“Shit,” Mike says, looking down. You follow his view to see the head of Jessica, her jaw ripped off, looking as mangled as she did when you first encountered her dead body. “That’s Jess…” He looks nauseous and devastated as he stares down at her disfigured head. You lay a hand on his back, guiding him away from the scene.

“Oh my God, guys…” Sam whimpers. As you continue in, the room opens up, and the smell of death hits you in the face all at once. Looking up, you spot multiple dead bodies hanging from chains, covered in muck and blood.

The sight of your friends’ dead bodies all at once puts into perspective just how many people you’ve lost in the span of a single night.

“You see that?” Sam points out.

“Yeah.”

“Bodies…”

All of you are in disbelief at the horrid sight that surrounds you.

Despite their less than ideal appearances, you can instantly recognize the bodies of so many of your friends. Chris, Jess, and even Matt, who hangs upside down, his signature letterman jacket stained with blood. Well, shit. There’s your confirmation that he didn’t make it.

“Fuck, I’m gonna be sick!” Mike keels over, turning away from you and Sam as he does so.

You inspect the area further and stop in your tracks when you see a cage, similar to the shape of a birdcage, suspended in the air. Inside of it lies only one thing—Ashley’s head.

Her beanie is gone and blood is streaked across one of her cheeks. The expression on her face seems to be one of shock, as if she died suddenly and unexpectedly. The wendigo must’ve gotten her soon after you and Sam made it to the rock wall, or you’re sure you would have heard the commotion from her death.

“Guys, Ash didn’t make it.” 

Sam gasps as she follows your gaze to Ashley’s head. “Oh, no, Ash…”

The pit in your stomach grows, but you try to shove away the feeling, instead attempting to focus on your situation at hand. “It’s just us now.” You swallow hard, trying to mask the guilt and regret in your voice. “Let’s get to Josh, and then get out of here.” If you can just save one person tonight, you sure as hell are going to make sure you see through to it.

“Hold on!” Mike calls out. “I think I see something!” He’s looking through a slat between some wooden boards, and you and Sam go on over to see what that’s about. As you peer through the boarded up area, you can see Josh in the distance, pacing around and talking to himself, though you can't quite make out what he's saying.

“Josh!” You push open the door and start forward, moving closer and closer to him. Yet as you approach you begin to slow down, not wanting to spook him, sensing that he isn’t all that present right now. Sam is about to run past you, but you grab onto her wrist before she’s able to make it past you. With a shake of your head, you signal to her that it’s a bad idea.

“What’s wrong with him?” she whispers to you.

In front of you, Josh grips his hair, shakes his head, and mutters some words under his breath. He makes no indication that he even notices you right in front of him.

“He’s probably having hallucinations from being off his meds for so long. We shouldn’t startle him.”

“Oh so he’s tripping, that's what.” Mike gripes.

“Mike, don’t—!”

But of course, Mike doesn’t listen to you and instead slaps Josh across the face. “Snap out of it!”

“M-Mike?” He blinks, snapping out of his daze. “Don’t h-hit me, please.”

“Sorry, man, you were deep in it. Full mental jacket.”

You grab onto Josh’s shoulder with a solid grip, hoping to calm him down. “How’re you doing? We’ll be out of here in a jiffy.”

His eyes look stormy as they bore into yours and he whispers your name, betrayal and distrust thick in his voice. “You left me there.” “I know, bud, I’m sorry. I thought it was the safest way.”

“It h-hurt. Don’t hit me again.”

“I won't. I promise you.”

Sam sidles up next to you. “Josh, oh my God, Hannah and Beth, they were—”

“Hey, hey, don’t freak him out again.” You place a hand on her shoulder, a feeble attempt to calm her.

Josh shakes his head. “No, no, what happened? I need—need the truth.”

Sam swallows. “Hannah was alive down here. Josh, she dug Beth up.”

“Sam,” you warn again, not wanting to cause Josh any more trouble than he’s already having at the moment.

Mike sighs. “Look, we should just get out of here. Josh, do you have the key for the cable car?”

Josh blinks. “The—” He fumbles around his overalls, digging into one of the many pockets and fishing them out. The keys jingle as Sam grabs them from him. She points to the top of another rock wall, the only light source to your location.

“See that? A direct way out. Let’s go.”

She starts her climb, but you look back to Josh, who looks haggard and disorientated.

“Sam,” you start, “Josh isn’t in any shape to make it up there.”

Just as you’re about to suggest taking Josh back the way you and Sam came in, Mike chimes in, mirroring your exact thoughts. “You two go up. I’ll take Josh back the other way and we’ll meet you back at the lodge.”

“Alright,” Sam adjusts the headlight across her forehead, and you give her a boost onto the wall. “Just be careful.”

“You too.”

You turn back one final time before you start climbing the wall. “Stay safe. Please.”

Mike nods, and you follow Sam up, hoping the two of them will make it back to the cabin, fast.

6:16

“What’s the first thing you're eating once we make it back home?”

“Ooh,” Sam hisses. “Starting off with a hard one. Not nice.”

The wall climbing was a breeze for you and Sam, as you two frequently went on hikes and climbs together. Now, the two of you trudge through the snow as you make your way back to the lodge.

“Okay, well,” you start, kicking some snow in front of you, “if you don’t have an answer yet, I do.”

“Shoot.” 

“It starts off with my face between your thighs…”

She rolls her eyes. “Hardy har.”

“I’m serious!”

She scoffs. “I don’t doubt it. But does this really look like the time to be talking about that?”

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at Sam’s admonishing tone. Really, you were only trying to keep both of your minds off of the tragedies from this night. Guilt swells up in your chest and gets caught in your throat thinking about all of the people—all of your friends—that you couldn’t save.

At your newfound quietness, Sam shifts her gaze over to you.

“Hey,” she starts, softly, “I didn’t mean to…”

“No, you’re right. I guess I’m just not handling tonight well.” 

Sam nods, signaling you to continue. 

“It just feels like everyone’s gone in an instant, and everything feels like it’s out of my hands. I should’ve been more prepared.”

Your girlfriend sighs and locks her hand with yours, squeezing it gently. “You said it yourself. You couldn’t have known this was going to happen. Throw Josh’s prank into the mix, and we were all thrown for a loop.”

She locks eyes with you.

“This is not your fault.”

You don’t know how to respond. Silence fills the air again, but this time it feels much calmer. As if it’s just you and Sam, with no greater threat awaiting your presence.

A mutual understanding crosses the both of you, and it’s like you’re instantly in tune with each other’s emotions.

“We’ll make it,” Sam says.

You turn to her. Determination is painted over her features. “Together.”

6:36

You and Sam stop in your tracks as a lake stands in front of you.

“Only way to get across is to go through it,” you say hesitantly. It was already freezing cold outside, and getting your clothes soaked in ice cold water again was a recipe for disaster, especially with the wendigos on the prowl.

“Fuck,” Sam mutters biting her lip. She seems to stop and think for a second before a teasing glint appears in her eye. “Can my big, strong, girlfriend go first to check for any danger?”

Rolling your eyes with no malice, you chuckle as you slide your jacket off knowing it was only going to weigh you down.

“Woah, didn’t know I was getting a show with this too.” She reaches out, squeezing your arm.

“Hands off the merchandise, ma’am.”

“Oh, so I can purchase you for later?” 

“I might be able to slide you a discount.”

She laughs and you take your first step into the lake, hissing as the freezing temperature hits you all at once.

“Shit, babe, that’s cold as hell.”

You keep your other reactions to yourself, remembering that you should probably keep your voice down with the location of the remaining wendigos unknown.

You make it across with no issue, save for your sopping wet clothes that stick to your body, the chilly air stinging you and causing it to feel entirely too unpleasant.

It’s Sam’s turn next, and she enters it cautiously. A shriek automatically leaves her before she can stop it. Wide eyed, realizing her mistake, Sam freezes and turns.

“Fuck,” you mutter, hoping that there wasn’t a wendigo nearby to hear it.

You should’ve known by now that your luck is never that good.

A cacophonous screech echoes throughout the forest. The trees rustle, and the sounds of the wendigo move closer and closer each second.

“C’mon!” You stretch your arm out as Sam treks across the lake. As soon as she’s in your reach, you grasp onto her hand and pull her out.

Hand and hand, the two of you make a break for it, the lodge barely in view. The wendigo’s screeches grow louder, as if it’s taunting you. You don’t even spare a second to glance behind you to see how close it is, already being weighed down by your wet clothes.

As you finally arrive at the lodge, you try the handle but it’s locked. You curse.

Sam starts banging furiously on the door. “Hey! Come on, open up!” No response. “Guys, come on! Are you in there? Let us in!”

You’re just about to slam yourself against it when a voice from behind startles you both.

“Hey.”

“Shit–!” You whip around to see Mike, who looks like he’s out of breath. There’s a cut on his upper lip and his face is caked in dirt, with a nasty bruise forming around his eye. He looks considerably worse than when you last saw him.

But he’s also alone. The thought makes your blood run cold.

“My gosh, you look terrible,” Sam mutters.

“Gonna look worse if we stay out here. C’mon.” He jerks his head to the door.

“Copy that.” You slam your body into the door and the wood splinters, allowing the three of you inside.

“Where’s Josh?” you ask, already knowing you’re not going to like the answer.

Mike runs a hand down his face. “It got him. We were in the water, and it happened so fast, just dragged him away.”

“Fuck, man.” You thought that Josh would be safe. Even after all the shit he put you guys through, he needed help not…this. “Wait, dragged him away? So he might still be alive, right?”

“Look, I don’t know. It pulled me under but then went after him. As soon as I was out of sight I just ran like hell to get back here.”

Sam flicks the light switch on, before Mike switches it back off. “Not a good idea.”

You take a brief survey of your surroundings. The lodge looks just how it did the last time you were here, although the emptiness makes it feel much bigger. The three of your voices easily echo across the sprawling walls and high ceiling.

“What should we do?” Sam asks.

“The basement, maybe?” Mike responses. “Maybe there’s somebody—”

“Everyone else is fucking dead.” You cut in.

Mike and Sam both shoot you an identical look of pity.

“No, it’s—” you cut yourself off. “It’s fine. If we need to wait this shit out it’s probably better to do it down there anyway. Let’s go.”

The three of you pass through the movie room on your way to the basement. The walk is silent before Mike pipes up.

“Do you actually know how to kill those fuckers?” he asks you.

“I mean, technically I do. Fire’s the best way to go. Only thing that can get through their skin.”

Silence. “If it comes down to it…”

“Mike.” He stops. “Enough. Let’s just focus on making it out of here. It’s almost dawn.”

You turn to look at him. He’s been put through the ringer tonight, and it shows. His eyes look bleary and sunken in, his voice is quieter than usual. The events of the night are clearly weighing on him just as much as they are on you.

As you reach the basement door, Mike swings it open. He’s about to walk through when an all-too-familiar screech rings out from ahead.

“Fuck…” you mutter, grabbing a hold of Sam’s arm and pulling her back.

Mike slowly starts to back away, and the wendigo jumps down in your path from where it was previously perched.

“Run!” He yells, hightailing it the way you guys came in.

Sam turns to leave but stops when she notices you moving forward.

“What are you—?”

“Go.” You hold her head in your hands and give her a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll be right behind you.” Sam nods and runs, following in the direction that Mike went. You hurry and slam the basement door closed, locking it before the wendigo can attack. As it bangs against the door, you quickly follow after Sam and Mike.

As you run, the glass of the windows and doors around you start breaking as more wendigos enter the lodge. You scurry up the stairs and back to the main floor, halting in place when you notice Mike and Sam completely still. Your eyes shift up to see a wendigo hanging from the ceiling decoration right above you, surveying the scene below. It growls softly but remains in its place, indicating it hasn’t noticed the three of you yet.

In your frozen state you spare a more careful glance at the wendigo, and take notice of the butterfly tattoo. Hannah.

“Don’t fucking move a muscle,” Mike whispers, his eyes glued to the wendigo.

Sam tries to catch her balance, but the floorboard beneath her creaks. Her eyes widen and she freezes for a split second before backing away.

“No!” You start to run over to her, but Mike beats you to it. Sam hides behind a nearby column and instead of reaching her, the wendigo grabs Mike by his neck and tosses him aside. He groans, confirmation that he’s still alive.

More wendigos begin to dart into the room, and the Hannah wendigo turns, screeching at the others before attacking one who entered the kitchen. The fight is brutal. They toss each other in the air, biting furiously at each other’s necks—attacking to kill. It provides the perfect distraction to get Sam’s attention. 

You nod your head in the direction of the lodge door that leads outside. She shakes her head furiously, a defiant look on her face.

You try to give her your best look of confidence. Go, you mouth to her. I love you.

She hesitates for a second until finally admitting defeat. Your girlfriend mouths those same three words back to you, and runs out the door. A weight lifts off your chest as you watch her run to her safety. You take a deep breath, your brain running on overdrive trying to think of a plan to get you and Mike out.

Across the way, you see him slowly crawling on the floor, picking himself up to sit against a nearby wall. He stretches his arm up to a lightbulb, squeezing it until it breaks.

Clearly he had concocted some sort of plan. You raise an eyebrow at him, wondering what exactly it is.

When his eyes meet yours, they shift over near the fireplace. As you look, you notice a broken pipe leaking gas that must’ve gotten knocked during the wendigo fighting. Dread fills you, knowing exactly what Mike is thinking. 

His hand jerks in an upward motion, and you know he’s trying to tell you to hit the light switch. His other hand holds onto his side, and even from across the room you can tell that his breathing is wheezy and shallow, most likely from broken ribs.

You don’t want to believe it, but in that moment you know in your heart that Mike is never going to make it out of the lodge alive.

You only take a second to prepare for what you’re about to do. With the wendigos still distracted, you start moving backwards towards the door.

“Thank you,” you whisper softly, knowing he’s too far to hear it.

As if he knows exactly what you say, a teary smile forms on his face as you lock eyes with your friend one last time.

“Hey! Come and get me, you fuckers!”

With that final cue from Mike, you run towards the door, flip the switch, and the explosion throws you through the entryway. The heat from the flames dance across your backside as you collapse face first into the snow.

Mike ends his life just how he lived it—with a spark and a grin, turning the lives of those who cross paths with him upside down.

A hand begins to drag you away from the wreckage. You’re disorientated as you look up at your girlfriend, whose hair is all wild, ash and tears streaked across her face. Sam’s lips move, but the ringing in your ears causes her voice to be too warbled to make out what she’s saying.

But you don’t need to hear her.

Because in that moment, with her above you, eyes wide with disbelief, with love, with you, she has never looked more beautiful.

You use all your strength to surge forward and pull her into a desperate kiss. You needed to feel her, to make sure this was real. Tears slide down your cheeks and travel across your lips turning the kiss salty, all of the loss and death from the night finally releasing itself from your body.

“Hey.” Sam breathes, her voice trembling. She uses her thumbs to wipe away your tears. “We made it.”

You smile through the hurt of it all, knowing that you have her right beside you. Your forehead presses against hers as the world goes still around you. “Together.”

7:00

Dawn breaks over Blackwood Mountain in a surge of energy. The timber foundation in front of you crackles and collapses under the impossible heat, flames roaring as they engulf what was once the Washington lodge. Smoke billows into the frigid air, escaping from the wreckage in the same way you imagine the spirits of the now dead wendigos have done, now free to wreak havoc on whoever is clueless enough to fall victim to its curse.

 Helicopters whir from above, signaling your long-awaited rescue.

The sun rises steadily and slowly, providing a picturesque view among the chaos of the night and casting a brilliant halo around Sam’s head. The light blinds you, yet it is a comfort. It wraps around you tightly and brings about a warmth to your body that had been missing the moment you stepped off of that bus and onto this mountain.

You hold Sam close to you as the helicopters fly above you, kicking up surrounding debris. You press your ear to her chest, listening to the steady hum of her heartbeat. It blends together with the gentle thump of the vehicles’ blades as they begin their descent, but you don’t move. You hold her tighter.

And though the lodge still smolders behind you, and you come to the realization that your friends will only live on as memories, and the understanding that the trauma from this night may never fully fade, in the end, you hold onto your love—the love meant to outlast the grief.

Character Traits: 

Honest: 6/10 

Charitable: 9/10 

Funny: 4/10  

Brave: 9/10 ↑ 

Romantic: 9/10 ↑ 

Curious: 5/10

Relationship Status:

Ashley: 3/10

Chris: 7/10

Emily: 6/10 

Jess: 3/10 

Josh: 7/10 

Matt: 7/10 

Mike: 6/10

Sam: 10/10

Chapter Eleven || Death Scenes

Thank you for sticking around and reading Outlast. I hope you enjoyed reading it just as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Stay tuned for some bonus scenes (including what's happening with Josh and the epilogue from the remaster!) :)

[gogogodzilla]

Can we get some more Peeta smut please? Like maybe after he drops the "if it weren't for the baby'? Thank you!!

All I Ask || Peeta Mellark

peeta mellark x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, slight angst (maybe?), creampie, peeta mellark is a lover boy and a FREAK masterlist ✩ read on ao3 ✩

“If�� if it weren’t for the baby.”

The words slip past Peeta’s lips, and the uproar from the crowd is almost instantaneous. Accusations of inhumanity and barbarity are hurled from the audience, and the voices combine into a singular cacophony of outrage. 

Your eyes snap to Peeta’s, and you realize that he’s not looking at the crowd or Caesar. He’s looking at you. 

Your heart flutters against your ribs, and you can feel your cheeks heating up with each passing second. You catch a glimpse of your face projected in a tight close-up on a nearby screen, and you look nearly as bewildered as the crowd. 

You meet Peeta’s gaze once more. He needs nothing more than his wits to set the entire continent ablaze. It’s easy for him to make a lie feel like a promise. It’s easy for you to believe him, to believe that when he says he loves you, he really means it. You want to believe that this is real, and not just another way to protect you from a game that’s already taken everything else. 

Nearly everything. 

Caesar struggles to rein in the crowd, and the buzzer sounds, signaling the end of Peeta’s interview. You can see Caesar’s lips moving, but you can’t hear what he’s saying over the crowd. All you can hear is the national anthem turned up so loud it vibrates the stage beneath you. 

You stand, and Peeta wordlessly finds his seat. He leans down to kiss your cheek. You look up in time to see two crystalline tears drop from his eyes. You take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

Your chest aches as his lips ghost against the back of your hand. Your engagement ring sparkles under the stage lights, and you let yourself mourn, just for a moment, the life you could’ve had with Peeta. 

You turn back to the crowd. It’s dark, and you can hardly make out the different faces. It just seems like a sea of bright colors and rage. 

The lights go out, and you’re left to stumble back into the Training Center. Peeta’s arm is heavy but comfortable against your waist as he leads you toward an elevator. The doors quickly slide shut behind you, leaving the two of you to shoot up to the twelfth floor alone. 

Your heels click against the floor as you step off the elevator and into the penthouse. 

His fingertips dig into your shoulders, not enough to hurt but enough to grab your attention. He turns you around to face him, and his thumbs drag across the exposed skin of your shoulder. It’s gentle, almost comforting. 

“Tell me, is there anything I have to apologize for?”

“No,” you reply, shaking your head. “Nothing.”

One of his hands drifts upwards to cup your face. His fingertips dance across your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You look up to meet his gaze. 

You’ve forgotten what it feels like to live a life without Peeta Mellark. You imagine it’s a life without color or warmth. Being with Peeta feels like coming home on a cold winter’s day. Your fingers are numb, but you’re greeted by a warm drink and a comfortable spot by the fire. When you sink into the plush cushions of the armchair, the usual burdens don’t feel as heavy, and you’re not so terrified of the world that’ll greet you when you wake up the next day. 

“I’d give anything to have a life with you outside of this,” he murmurs, looking down at you. “A real life. A life with toasted bread on our wedding night and summer days in the meadow.” 

Your chest aches at his admission. You step toward him and slip your hands around his waist and under his suit jacket. You can feel the warmth of his skin through the thin white shirt he’s wearing. 

“I’d want that too,” you whisper.

His lips find yours before you can say anything else. This isn’t urgent nor desperate, just full of every unspoken word you don’t have enough time to say. Like most things with Peeta, his kisses are tender, almost like he’s afraid that it’ll be the last time and he’s making it count.

The reality that tonight might be the last time you’ll feel Peeta’s lips pressed against yours causes a pit to form in your stomach. Before you know it, you’ve said your goodbyes to Haymitch, and the sinking feeling in your stomach grows. 

The penthouse is quiet as you slip away and into your bedroom. You refuse to let go of Peeta’s hand. The Capitol has given you one last night together, and you take it greedily. 

In the dim light of your bedroom, Peeta’s hands drag against your form, almost as if he’s attempting to memorize the feel of your skin against his palm. He traces the curve of your waist before slowly moving his fingertips over the line of your collarbone. His lips follow closely behind, each kiss feeling like a promise.

The world around you dissolves, and all you can focus on is the warmth of Peeta’s skin against yours. There’s no arena, no Capital, no death sentence waiting for you at sunrise. Just the soft sounds of your breathing and gentle kisses, the heat building between you, and the unspoken promise that he’s yours. 

“Stay with me,” you breathe as he hovers over you. 

He presses a gentle kiss against your lips. “Always,” he says.

Your bodies finally join, achingly and full of need. Your eyebrows knit together as you focus on taking all of him, and he soothes the wrinkle in your brow with a kiss. 

He moves slowly at first, stretching you further with each languid roll of his hips. The plush skin of your thighs sinks under his fingertips as he moves. He holds onto you tightly, like you might disappear at any moment. 

You wrap your legs around his hips, forcing him deeper inside you. Breathy moans leave both of you at the feeling. Peeta’s lips never leave your form. 

He gradually begins to move faster, deeper, as he chases the heat that pools between you. There’s no room for fear or hesitation. Just skin, sweat, and whispered words of devotion. He presses hurried, open-mouthed kisses against the column of your neck, and you arch up against him, almost as if to merge yourself with him. 

His hand snakes down to rub hasty circles against your clit, and your toes curl as the familiar heat builds in your belly. A desperate whine escapes you, and Peeta quickly soothes you with a kiss. 

It doesn’t take long for your release to hit you, the familiar fire snaking its way from your belly to the entirety of your form. Peeta’s name graces your lips as you cum around him. For a moment, it feels like you’re drowning, consumed by the feeling of Peeta. Every nerve, every atom was screaming for him, aching in a way that only he could soothe. It leaves you gasping for air you can’t seem to take in, spots dancing in your vision, and your limbs heavy.

Peeta’s hips begin to stutter as he chases his high while allowing you to ride out your own. His eyebrows knit together, and he reaches up a hand to gently cup your face. His fingertips ground you, give you something to focus on other than the pleasure building within you once more. 

“Tell me where, love,” he murmurs, his breath catching with every roll of his hips. 

You blink up at him, dazed and still trembling from your release. Your lips part, but you can’t form words fast enough. Your body quivers underneath him as you lock your legs around his waist and drag your nails down his broad form. 

He buries himself to the hilt and spills inside you with a low, broken moan. His warmth floods you, and you whimper as he rocks his hips once and then twice, allowing your cunt to milk him for every drop. 

His breath shudders as he meets your gaze once more. His chest is slick with sweat against yours, and he collapses against you, allowing him to be nestled snugly in your embrace. One of his hands cradles your head while the other draws patterns against your outer thigh. His fingers are calloused against your soft skin, and his touch is all you can focus on. 

He presses a kiss to your temple. Silence falls between you, and you go through the motions of getting ready for bed. It doesn’t take long for you to end up tangled together under the silk sheets of your bed, fully clothed this time. 

In the morning, you’ll be a tribute once more. For now, though, you were just his. And he was yours. 

As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of Peeta’s strong embrace, you allow yourself one last dream. Not a dream of victory or rebellion, but one of a bakery back home, and a boy with flour-covered hands.

[gogogodzilla]

𝙹𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 10, 2032, 𝙿𝙼 8:34:19

Summary: Gavin Reed discovers the consequences of his cowardice masterlist ✩ ao3 ✩ wattpad ✩ previous chapter ✩

Gavin Reed was a fool, he knew that. 

He didn’t mean to kiss you. Not really. It was a mistake— a stupid, reckless mistake made in the heat of the moment. All he could think about in that moment was how his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest and how terrified he was of losing you. 

He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. He just leaned in, and felt the plushness of your lips against his, a small gasp of surprise leaving you. For a second— just a second— he forgot all about the case, forgot about Cyberlife, forgot about everything but you. 

He pulled away, watched the crinkle between your brows form as you processed what just happened. He wanted to reach out, to hold you close and tell you how goddamn sorry he was. Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks and his hands slid off your hips, his fingertips grazing over the soft fabric of your sweater. 

Your eyes met his and his gaze flashed across your face, attempting to memorize every inch of it. Your lips part, allowing a shuddering breath to leave you. It brushed against his cheek, almost like a kiss. He pulled himself out of your orbit, knowing that if he didn’t leave then, he never would. 

He clenched his jaw, preventing himself from saying something he might regret. He shook his head, attempting to rid himself of the idea that you just might like him too, and he ran, just like he always did. 

His thumb hovers over your contact. He hasn’t called you in weeks— not since that night. You haven’t brought it up, not that he’s given you a chance to. He tells himself that you’re not his partner anymore, and that you both need space. 

He’s lying to himself, of course, but it makes him feel a little less shitty. 

A sharp thwack against his desk pulls him out of his moping. 

“Jesus, Chen—”

“Shut up and read it,” she replies, crossing her arms. 

Gavin eyes the folder like it might come to life and bite him, earning a scoff from Tina. He gingerly picks it up and begins to thumb through the crisp sheets of paper within. His eyes skim over the results, not entirely sure what he’s looking at. 

He hones in on one particular name. Matthew Hayden. 

“It’s a match,” Gavin murmurs as he scans over the DNA results in front of him. 

“You met with him, right? I remember you saying something about how he was creepy,” Tina recalls, leaning against the edge of Gavin’s desk. 

Gavin nods as his heart sinks to his toes. “I thought he was a bit squirrely. Rambled on like all the other nerds there, but I thought he was harmless. Jesus,” Gavin breathes. 

“Where’re you going?” Tina questions as Gavin stands and his chair scrapes against the linoleum.

“To save my partner.” 

Gavin pulls out his phone and taps your contact. Tina is hot on his heels, and she follows him out of the precinct. 

The glass of his phone screen is cool against his ear as he rushes toward his police cruiser. It rings once and then twice as he hops into the driver’s seat. 

The line connects and he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. The engine hums as he rushes out his words. 

“Sweetheart,” he begins, the nickname for you falling out before he could stop it. “I know I’ve been an ass, but I need you to listen to me.” 

He can practically see your scowl on the other side as he begins driving. The mental image nearly brings a smile to his face… Nearly. 

You practically spit your next words. “You have some nerve, Reed. You don’t answer my calls and then you wanna talk? Screw you—”

He grimaces at your tone, but forces the accelerator down even more. 

“Just fucking listen,” he snaps, his own frustration rearing its head. “The DNA that you insisted on collecting a few weeks ago finally came back with a match. Turns out that bad feeling I had about Hayden wasn’t as crazy as you thought it was. ”

You go quiet on the other end of the life, and all he can hear is the pounding of his heart. 

He hears you clear your throat, and he can picture your brow furrowing as your thoughts race. He’s all too familiar with that look. 

Your voice drops, your tone measured — too measured. “I have to go. Don’t keep me waiting,” you reply, and it’s not hard for him to read between the lines. 

He nearly calls your name as the line goes quiet. His ears strain for any indication of what’s happening on the other end of the line. 

He can hear something in the background— a shaky exhale from you and a chuckle that makes his skin crawl. Then, Hayden’s voice, barely audible. 

“Bad news?”

Gavin swears under his breath and presses harder on the accelerator. He listens to your conversation with Hayden, clinging onto your every word like a lifeline. 

He listens as Hayden recounts his sob story about wanting to save an android he’s in love with. Gavin didn’t bother listening to the details, purely focused on the wavering of your voice. 

“Sweetheart, get away from him,” he instructs. 

Hayden’s voice picks up on the other line, his tone sharp and accusatory. You rush out an excuse, attempting to placate him. It’s too late, though.  

A sharp crash filters through his cellphone and the line goes dead. He tears through traffic, sirens wailing, as he white-knuckles the steering wheel. Every red light feels like a blow, separating him even further from you. 

He haphazardly pulls up to the front of the Cyberlife building. He barely registers the security android’s attempts to stop him. He shoves his way past androids and humans alike, flashing his badge like a madman as he stormed toward your office. 

He bursts into the hallway containing your office just in time to hear a crash followed by the muffled sound of a scream.

He approaches your office door and yanks on the handle, cursing as it doesn’t budge. 

His heart slams against his ribs as he takes a step back. He drives his boot into the door near the handle. The wood splinters, but doesn’t give. A strangled, desperate sound leaves him as he kicks the door again, aiming for the same spot. The door bursts open and he rushes in, gun drawn and eyes darting around the scene. 

The first thing he sees is you, back pressed against your desk and a small canister clutched in your shaking hand. The second thing is Hayden, doubled over, clawing at his eyes as a strangled, pained sound leaves him. 

“On the ground! Now,” Gavin barks as he steps further into the room. His eyes sweep over your office, taking in the dent in the drywall, your shattered phone in the corner, the overturned chair, and the angry red marks around your throat. 

Hayden hesitates, but Gavin doesn’t. He closes the distance between them in two strides, grabbing Hayden by the arm and slamming him against the wall before wrestling him to the ground. 

Hayden lets out a sharp grunt of pain, struggling against Gavin’s grasp for half a second before he cuffs him with ease. 

Tina rushes in behind him, gently nudging him out of the way. “Reed, I’ll handle it,” she says, taking over for him. 

He nods, sending her a grateful look. His focus snaps to you. You’re still crouched by your desk, eyes wide and your form trembling. 

He crosses the room and wordlessly kneels in front of you. A fresh wave of rage encompasses him as he takes in your bloodied nose and the reddening marks against the column of your throat. He swallows hard, locking away his feelings for another time. He can be angry, terrified, and upset later. 

He reaches up, gently cradling your face in his hands. Your skin is warm against his fingertips, and, in that moment, it feels like he’s holding the world in the palm of his hand. 

“Doesn’t look broken,” he comments, taking in the blood dripping down from your nose and onto your shirt. His stomach twists at the sight, and he can’t help the frown that tugs at his features. “You okay?” 

You nod, but he doesn’t fully believe you. Your fingers are still wrapped tightly around the small, metal canister in your hand, and your breathing comes in uneven pants. 

“I… I’ll be fine,” you answer quietly. His frown deepens.

He lowers his hand and his thumb over the angry red marks around your throat, and you flinch away from his touch. He pulls back, almost as if you’d burned him. A second passes, and then another before he settles for resting his hand on your shoulder. 

“You did good,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. He gently squeezes your shoulder as he bends to meet your gaze. “You held your own.”

Maybe when the threat of losing you doesn’t weigh on him as heavily, he’ll feel proud of you kicking ass. For now, though, he’s terrified. Terrified that he nearly wasn’t fast enough. Terrified of what Hayden could’ve done. The thought makes bile rise in the back of his throat and he shoves it away.

You shake your head at his comment, releasing a shaky laugh that has his heart doing backflips in his chest. “I wouldn’t have made it if you didn’t insist I keep this stupid thing,” you reply, holding up the small canister.

He reluctantly tears his gaze away from your face and focuses on what’s in your hands. The pepper spray he gave you months ago rests in your grasp, and a smile graces his lips. He still remembers how you called him paranoid and rolled your eyes when he handed it to you one morning. 

“Can’t believe you actually kept it,” he breathes as he shakes his head. 

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you. Gavin finds your gaze once more and before he knows it, your face crumples as warm tears begin to force their way out. 

“Goddamn, sweetheart,” he murmured before pulling you into his arms. 

You stiffen for half a second before sinking into his arms. He tightens his hold, grounding you and himself. You clutch the  back of his jacket, and he closes his eyes, anchoring himself in the feeling of you, safe in his arms. He almost lost you. 

His nose brushes against your hair as he breathes you in. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispers, voicing the thought that’s been consuming him for the past two weeks. He wants to apologize for kissing you, for running away, and for being too much of a coward to face his feelings. “I should’ve been faster.”

You shake your head, your nose bumping against the side of his neck. Your voice is muffled as you rest your cheek against his shoulder. “You got here. That’s all that matters.”

His hand slides up your back, holding you tighter. He feels your breath slow against the exposed skin of his neck. For the first time, maybe in his life, he didn’t feel like running. 

He pulls back, and you slowly look up at him. His hands linger on your shoulders, and his face knits with worry. 

“Let’s get you checked out,” he suggests, his grip slightly tightening on your shoulders. “Bastard probably gave you a concussion.”

You weakly insist that you’re fine, but he quickly shuts that down with a look.

“You’re not,” he insists, reaching up to cradle your face once more. He gently moves a stray hair out of your eyes. “Don’t argue with me on this one, sweetheart. Just… let me take care of my partner.”

You stare at him for a moment, and the fear that you’re going to argue with him fills him. “Okay,” you relent, your tone soft.

He lets out a breath, the tension in his shoulders easing only slightly. You reach up to cover his hand with yours. Your fingertips are warm against his, and he attempts to memorize the feeling. 

He won’t fuck this up. He can’t. 

[gogogodzilla]

𝙹𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 23, 2032, 𝙿𝙼 08:56:13

Summary: You face the consequences of your fallout with Gavin, and receive an unexpected surprise masterlist ✩ ao3 ✩ wattpad ✩ previous chapter ✩ next chapter ✩

Your office is quiet. You didn’t think it’d be so easy to erase every trace of him. He’s been avoiding your calls— you can’t blame him but it still hurts. 

The case files that once littered your office are few and far between. You pray that Gavin doesn’t delay the inevitable any longer and goes back on his promise to pick up the remaining files from you tonight. It’s been hours since he was supposed to arrive, and with each passing minute, your hope dwindles. 

The hours wane. Your gaze flickers between your computer screen and your cellphone, waiting for the telltale chime of a new message. You’re about to pack up your things and hand deliver the remaining files when movement outside your office door causes you to freeze. Your ears strain as you listen to the faint sound of shuffling feet outside your door. 

The manilla folder crinkles under your grip as you rush toward the door, ready to throw the files in his stupid face and be done with him. Then, maybe you could start acting like he never existed. Maybe the ache in your chest would hurt a little less. 

You wrench open your office door and your arm is halfway in the air before you realize who’s in front of you. 

“Dr. Hayden?” you breathe as your arm falls limp at your side. 

A look of surprise flashes across his face, but he’s quick to mask it with a smile. He shifts on his feet, almost looking sheepish. 

“I, uh, wanted to see how you were doing, Doctor. I heard about what happened to your case,” he explains. 

He peeks around your shoulder, his eyes scanning around your office. You turn to follow his gaze, taking in the sparse cork boards and stray manilla folder littering your desk. 

You press your lips into a thin line, propriety forcing you into politeness. “Did you want to come in, Doctor?” you offered, opening the door wider. 

He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

You grit your teeth and force a smile. “I’m waiting for DNA results and Detective Reed to collect the remaining case files. Please, come in.” 

He’s quick to scoot by you and into the open space of your office. You shut the door behind you and sit on the edge of your desk, crossing your arms tightly against your chest. 

“Still working on the android mutilation case, I see. Mind if I take a look?” he questions, eyeing the files on your desk. 

You shrug, “Go ahead. It’s mostly random bits of evidence I thought were interesting. Nothing groundbreaking yet.” 

Hayden picks up a file, leafing through it with an almost clinical interest. “This case must be driving you crazy—first, the parts theft, and now the destruction of Cyberlife property. It’s like your guy’s always one step ahead.” 

You force a tight smile at his words. “Certainly feels like that sometimes.” 

Hayden nods slowly, his gaze fixed on yours. “It’s tragic, isn’t it? All that potential wasted. Humor me, Doctor, do you think androids are alive?”

The question catches you off guard, and you furrow your brows. You lean back, studying him. 

“Depends on how you define it, I guess,” you reply. “They’re sentient, capable of reason.” 

He hums, “The common consensus among your peers, especially Officer Reed, is that androids are just machines— tools for humans to use and then discard. I want to know what you think, Doctor.”

Your phone buzzes on your desk, pulling your attention away from Hayden.

“Excuse me,” you say and Hayden nods, returning his focus to the file in his hands. You walk a few paces away and press your phone against your ear as you turn away from Hayden.

“Sweetheart,” Gavin’s voice rings out from the other line, and your face screws up in anger. “I know I’ve been an ass but I need you to listen to me.” 

You practically spit out your next words. “You have some nerve, Reed. You don’t answer my calls and then you wanna talk? Screw you—”

“Just fucking listen,” he cuts you off. “The DNA that you insisted on collecting a few weeks ago finally came back with a match. Turns out that bad feeling I had about Hayden wasn’t as crazy as you thought it was. ”

Your blood runs cold and you stiffen. You risked a glance over your shoulder, where Dr. Hayden stood flipping through the various files on your desk.

You clear your throat, attempting to keep your voice even. “I have to go. Don’t keep me waiting.” 

Your hand falls to your side and your grip on your phone tightens. Your hands tremble as Gavin’s voice rings out on the other line. When you turn, Hayden is watching you closely, his head tilted. 

“Bad news?” he asks, his tone casual. 

You force a chuckle. “You could say that. The DNA evidence came back inconclusive, so we’re back to square one,” you sigh. 

He sets down the file he’s holding and clasps his hands in front of him. “You’re a bad liar, Doctor. Has anyone ever told you that?” 

“Dr. Hayden,” you began, choosing your words carefully. “Why did you come here tonight?”

He takes a step forward, his voice low. “I just wanted to see if you figured it out yet. You always were just one step behind me.” 

Your mind raced as his words settled over the room like a heavy fog, suffocating you. He knows. He knows that you know. He watches you, unblinking from across the room. 

“Why destroy them?” you questioned, attempting to keep your voice steady. 

He sighed, leaning back against his chair. “I didn’t want to,” he admitted, his tone tinged with regret. “But I had to. I don’t expect you to understand, Doctor.” 

“Try me.” 

He scans your features and then begins, “From the beginning, I knew she was different. She was scared, Doctor. I knew I had to protect her. I didn’t want to destroy the others, but I had no choice. It was the only way to save her.”

“Save… who?” 

His voice softens, only slightly. “Her name is Elise. She would’ve been deactivated and scrapped like she was nothing.” His jaw tightens, and his hands clench into fists. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

Your chest tightens at his admission. Out of all the possible motives for the case, you didn’t think a desperate act of love was one of them. Your gaze flicks to the phone in your hand, hoping desperately that Gavin is hearing everything you are. His muffled voice calls your name, but you can’t respond. Every fiber of your being is screaming at you to run, but you’re frozen in place, bargaining for your life.

“You killed all of those other androids to save one?”

“You don’t understand!” he snaps, his voice rising as he stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. “She’s alive and she needs me! I couldn’t let her die.”

You take a small step, inching your way toward the door. “I think you’re under a lot of stress. Why don’t we sit down and talk this through? Maybe we can figure something out.”

“You’re lying,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You’ll turn me in— call the cops. They’ll take her away from me.”

Your phone, still in your hand, crackles with Gavin’s voice. Hayden’s eyes dart to the device, and his expression darkens. “You never hung up,” he says, his voice a low growl. 

“Wait, let’s talk about—”

He crosses the room in three long strides, lunging at you before you can finish your sentence. He lunges, reaching for your phone and wrenching it out of your grasp. He hurls it across the room, hitting the wall with a loud crack, shattering the screen and leaving a dent in the drywall. 

You dart toward your office door. You fumble with the door, and panic flares in your chest once it doesn’t budge. Behind you, Hayden’s footsteps close the distance. 

“No!” you cry out as you yank on the door handle. Hayden’s fingers dig into the back of your head as he shoves you forward. Your head collides with the door with a sickening crack and pain radiates throughout your face. The room blurs, tilting sideways as you stagger and eventually fall to the ground. A metallic taste fills your mouth as you attempt to crawl away from your attacker.

Hayden comes up behind you, picking you up by your hair and shoving you toward your desk. You grunt as you crash into it, the edge biting your lower back. Before you can recover, his hands close around your throat, crushing your windpipe. 

“You don’t get it!” he snarls, inches away from your face. His eyes are wild, his expression twisted with anger and desperation. “She’s worth more than all of them combined! Worth more than you!”

Your breath comes in short, ragged gasps as you claw at his hands. Dark spots begin to cloud your vision and your lungs burn. 

One thought lingers at the forefront of your mind as you struggle against him: You will not die today. 

You fling your arms to the side, frantically searching for something— anything. Your fingers brush against something cold, glass, and spherical. The paperweight was a gift from your parents before you moved to Detroit. They didn’t quite understand what you do at Cyberlife, but it’s the thought that counts. 

With all the strength you can muster, you grab it and swing. 

The dull crack of glass meeting flesh fills the room as the paperweight collides with Hayden’s temple. He grunts in pain as his grip loosens and he stumbles back. He clutches his head as blood trickles through his fingers. 

You cough violently as sweet, sweet oxygen fills your lungs and you slide off the desk. You scramble toward the drawers of your desk, wrenching open the top drawer and frantically searching through it. Papers and pens spill onto the floor before you finally find what you’re looking for. Your fingers wrap around the cold cylinder and you let out a sigh of relief. 

Gavin insisted that you keep pepper spray on you. His words echo in your mind— “You won’t always have me around to protect you, sweetheart. Humor me, alright?”

Hayden steps forward, lunging for you once again. You whip around, the pepper spray raised and press the nozzle. 

The spray hits him square in the eyes, and he screams, stumbling back and clawing at his eyes. “You— you bitch!” he bellows, his voice raw with pain. 

You don’t wait for him to recover. You bolt for the door again, banging on it desperately. “Help!” You screamed, your voice hoarse. 

The door burst open with a loud bang, nearly knocking you off your feet.  You lurch backward. Gavin storms in, his gun drawn and expression fierce.  

Hayden turns to him, his reddened, tear-streaked face contorting in rage. “I had to do it! You don’t understand!”

”On the ground! Now!” Gavin barked, stepping further into the room. 

Hayden hesitated, his body tensed as though he might lunge again. Gavin didn’t wait — he surged forward, slamming Hayden against the wall and wrestling him to the ground despite Hayden’s large stature. 

Another officer stepped into the room, pausing to take in the scene in front of him. You press your back against the desk, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Gavin pins Hayden’s arms behind his back and snaps on a pair of handcuffs with practiced ease. 

“Reed, I’ll handle it,” the other officer cuts in. He holsters his gun and walks over to Hayden. Gavin nods and stands, rushing over to kneel in front of you. The other officer grasps Hayden’s bicep and forces him to his feet, dragging him out of your office. 

Gavin reaches up, gently cradling your face in his hands. He frowns as he takes in the blood that dripped down your nose and chin. 

“Doesn’t look broken,” he mutters. “You okay?”

You nod shakily as the adrenaline that flows through you begins to wane. “I… I’ll be fine.” 

Gavin lowers his hand, letting it hover over the angry red marks left by Hayden’s grip. You flinch away from his touch and his frown deepens. He settles for resting his hand on your shoulder. 

“You did good,” he says, his voice low and soothing. “You held your own.”

You shake your head, a shaker laugh escaping you. “I wouldn’t have made it if you didn’t insist I keep this stupid thing,” you reply, holding up the small canister of pepper spray.

A small smile tugs at his lips as he shakes his head. “Can’t believe you actually kept it.”

Your office becomes silent once more. You meet Gavin’s gaze, and your face begins to crumple as warm tears begin to force their way out. 

“Goddamn, sweetheart,” Gavin breathes before pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly. His embrace is firm, grounding, and you let yourself sink into it. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he murmurs against your hair. “I should’ve been faster.”

You shake your head, your voice muffled against his shoulder, “You got here. That’s all that matters.” 

He holds you tighter for a moment before pulling back, his hands lingering on your shoulders. “Let’s get you checked out,” he suggested. “Bastard probably gave you a concussion.”

”I’m fine,” you protest weakly, although the pounding in your head begs to differ. 

“No, you’re not,” he insists, moving one of his hands up to cradle your head. “Don’t argue with me on this one, sweetheart. Just… let me take care of my partner.”

You stare at him, taking in the worry etched across his features. “Okay.”

He exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing only slightly. You reach up and cover his hand with yours, the corners of your mouth quirking up.

"Thank you,” you whisper.

He gives you a small, crooked smile. “Anytime, sweetheart.

[gogogodzilla]

Outlast: Chapter Eleven (Sam Giddings x Reader)

Dereliction

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.3K

5:16

“Guys, over here!”

Deep in the tunnels, the three of you had been trying to find a way to get back through to the sanitorium to warn Mike, and of course he had to lock the door behind him. But it seems as though Ashley figured out another way through, given the manhole she points out to you as you and Sam run over to her.

“This’ll work,” Sam remarks. Using a nearby pipe, she pulls the manhole covering open. You help her push the cover to the side and all three of you look down into the dark hole, only illuminated by Sam’s headlight.

“Ugh, this is the last place I wanna be right now,” Ashley whines.

You roll your eyes. “I’ll go in first.”

The rusty bars are cold as you grip onto them, carefully shuffling yourself down the cramped hole. When your feet finally hit the ground, it’s difficult to see what’s around you. Instead of trying to fumble around in the darkness you help Sam get down, who follows you soundly after.

Once it’s Ashley’s turn, you begin to make your way through, looking for a path that might bring you all to where Mike might be. You spot one that looks promising, and nudge your head towards it. “Let’s go this way,” you say with confidence, and you don’t wait for a response as you start off.

“Hey,” Ashley mutters, “should we close it?” she says, gesturing to the manhole cover. “I mean, what if someone was following us?”

“Sure, close it. We just gotta keep moving. Catch up with us, alright?” Sam calls out impatiently to her. You’re already getting farther and farther ahead, and Sam wasn’t too privy on getting separated from you again.

“Yeah, got it,” Ashley replies as Sam walks off, on her way to catch up to you.

When you hear Sam shuffle up beside you, you reach your arm around her, rubbing a thumb into her shoulder. “How are you holding up?” you ask her in a gentle voice.

She sighs. “I’ll be much better when we’re out of this place.”

You can’t help but nod in agreement, and you enjoy the moment of brevity during your comfortable silence before everything inevitably goes to shit once again.

It only lasts for a couple of minutes before you two reach a dead end, an imposing rock wall standing before you.

“Well shit.”

“Hey,” Sam punches your arm playfully, a smirk ghosting her face. “This is easy stuff, like rock climbing. We can make it up, no sweat.”

She starts feeling around the structure for a crevice where she can grip onto. “Has Ash caught up to us yet?”

You turn to look behind you, not even realizing that she wasn’t following along. The path behind you is dark and empty and the space is silent, with a lack of any faint whimpers or complaints that would typically be heard from the redhead.

“Probably went back to the lodge,” you utter, brows furrowing in frustration. “Didn’t have the balls to tell us to our face. Coward.”

Sam nudges you with her foot. “Stop that. She was scared.” She surveys the wall again. “It’s probably better for her to hole up in there until we’re all back anyway. I don’t think she’d be able to make it up here.”

As she begins to hoist herself up onto the wall, she looks back at you over her shoulder, a flirtation dancing in her eyes. “Mind giving me a boost?”

A nearly identical look forms on your own face. “With this view? It would be my pleasure.”

She snorts as you help her up the wall, allowing her to climb it with ease. You follow behind her closely, your hands deftly reaching into grooves, securing your position on the wall.

Sam was always the adventurous type, and the two of you went on countless rock climbing dates, so this was a breeze.

When you both make it to the top, two paths wait ahead of you. To your left lies a ledge that you could drop down, and to the right of you was a pathway leading to a wooden staircase.

“Which way?” Sam asks, her thoughts no doubt mirroring your own.

You ponder just for a moment, but the choice wasn’t really a hard one for you to make. “The stairs.” It was way too risky to try and drop down a level, especially since you just had just previously come from below. It was more likely you’d find Mike’s location by continuing to go up rather than going back down.

Sam leads the way and you follow close behind. The stairs creak below you as you cautiously make your way across.

“I just can’t believe Em is…” Sam trails off, her thoughts wandering from your friend’s death earlier.

Guilt eats away at you, gnawing at the pits in your stomach and burrowing itself deep enough where it feels ingrained into your system. “She didn’t have to die,” you say, your voice strained. “I tried to…”

“I know you did.” Sam replies. She lets out a heavy sigh. “But we can’t change what already happened. Just need to make sure we get the fuck out of here so her death—everyone’s deaths—won’t be for nothing.”

A loud rumble suddenly sounds from behind you, and you hurry yourself and Sam ahead as a large boulder falls and destroys part of the staircase behind you. Tense silence follows the brutal damage.

“No turning back now,” Sam mutters as you two continue along the path.

Sam bringing up Emily has you thinking about your other friends. Jessica, you knew she was dead. No way could she survive with her jaw ripped off. You had a front row seat to Chris’s decapitated head, and Ashley no doubt turned her ass back around and secured herself in the lodge—probably the smartest move, you could admit, despite giving her shit for it—and Mike was of course on the hunt for Josh.

The only ones whose fates you weren’t entirely sure of at the moment were Josh and Matt.

“Hey Sam?” She hums in response, indicating she’s listening. “Did Emily bring up what happened to Matt? He didn’t come back to the lodge with her?” Your gut was already telling you that you knew the truth, but you wanted the confirmation anyway. So many of your friends had already died tonight, and if there was just even a sliver of hope that another one may have made it, you wanted to know, to cling onto that hope and let it guide you through the rest of the night.

Her initial silence answers your question, but she replies anyway. “She said he didn’t make it. Tried to save her when she fell into the mines, and he went down with the radio tower.”

“Shit,” you utter, too drained to even have any other response.

“We can’t dwell on it right now,” Sam says—always the positive one. 

You two finally reach the end of the path, a small ledge before you. You notice Sam picks up a steel pipe that rests against the rocks to your side.

“What, am I not enough protection for you, babe?” you joke, chuckling as she rolls her eyes at you.

“Never hurts to be too careful.” She drops down the ledge first, and the two of you walk past piles of debris, towards a metal door.

But before you can go through, the door bursts open with a loud clang as Mike falls through, a flaming wendigo trailing behind him, ready to pounce.

“Mike!” Sam cries. You go to take out your gun and shoot but Sam beats you to the punch, swinging the pipe at the wendigo, her second swing lobbing its head clean off its body.

“How’s that for extra protection?” she eyes you smugly, twirling the pipe in her hand.

You whistle in admiration before turning your attention to Mike, grabbing his hand and hoisting him up to his feet. “Up and at ‘em, pardner,” you say, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Fuck off,” Mike replies with no malice behind his words. “You ladies alright?” 

“Define alright,” Sam starts as you stare him down, unamused with the sudden charm he’s trying to put on.

“Alive, for a start,” he says, pointing out the obvious.

“Well, obviously,” you chime in.

“The fuck are you guys doing down here anyway?” he continues, ignoring your jab.

“We were going to warn you about the wendigos,” Sam says abashedly, “but it seems you already got the memo.”

“Yep.”

“Why don’t we just get a move on and find out where this fucker lives…” you say, leading the charge through another pathway.

6:00

“I was not prepared for how ugly that thing was up close.”

You, Sam, and Mike all navigate through the mines, stepping over some uneven rocks as you do so.

With her comment, it just dawns on you that this was the first wendigo that Sam had actually seen. You feel as though you’ve been practically surrounded by them all night, and Mike certainly had to just go through the wringer with a bunch of them, given how beat up he looks right now.

“There was something weird about it, though,” Mike says inquisitively.

“Oh yeah?” you say, knowing it won’t be as weird as he thinks.

“It had this scar on it, the same one I saw on this guy in these pictures I found in the mines. He was transforming.” He stops, turning to look at both of you. “These wendigos, they’re the miners from that cave-in, back in the 50’s. Had to have been done here for decades.”

Not all of them, you think to yourself.

“Which means there has to be dozens of them down here.” You sigh, running a hand over your face in exasperation.

“Hey,” Sam bumps her shoulder with yours. “We’ve got one down, at least.”

“Definitely got some more of the fuckers after blowing up the sanitorium,” Mike adds in.

“Alright.” Motivation surges through you. Sam and Mike are more than capable; you actually see a viable chance of you all getting the fuck out of here together.

“It is weird though, that these things were once human,” Sam says as she shudders.

“You’re gonna want to put those thoughts to the side,” you reply, your head on a swivel as you all travel deeper into the mines. “It’ll only make it harder to kill them, thinking of them as what they once were.”

You finally think you’re getting somewhere when you stumble across water. Sam continues on a pathway to your left, calling out to you and Mike.

“Looks like a fucking grave over here,” Mike surveys as he follows after Sam.

When you approach, Sam is crouched down, holding a small item and inspecting it. You lean over to get a closer look.

“Guys, this is Beth’s watch!” she gasps, flipping the device over. Beth W is engraved in the back of it.

“Fuck,” Mike utters, just as you respond as well. “Definitely means we’re close to the wendigo’s hideout.”

“She was buried here,” Sam starts, “but who dug her up?”

“Let’s keep moving,” Mike replies. He climbs into the water first, and you follow shortly after. The water is ice cold, a shock running through your system. It’s deeper than you thought, reaching up to the top of your thighs.

You hold onto Sam’s hand as she drops in, immediately shivering as she makes contact with the water. “It’s freezing. I can’t feel my fingers.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Mike says, and the three of you wade through the water, making your way to the small alcove on the left side.

Lifting yourselves up, you only walk forward a little bit until you spot a dirty notebook opened up on the ground.

“Oh shit, this looks like Hannah’s writing,” Mike says as you all approach it and Sam begins to read the text.

Your fears are confirmed as entry after entry becomes more scrawled and illegible than the next. Hannah had been down here, hurt and alive, this entire time. She had done what you never should do out here in the mountains. 

“She buried Beth,” you start, saying your thoughts out loud. Sam and Mike turn to look at you. “She buried Beth, but she was starving. She thought she didn’t have a choice. She—she didn’t have a choice. She dug her up and ate her.” You drop your head into your hands, the all-too-familiar feeling of failure you had last year when you were helpless in saving your friends festering up in your gut now.

Sam bites her lip. “It can’t be—!”

“The wendigo that took Josh,” you interrupt, desperately needing to tell them what you know. “I got a good look at it, up close. On its shoulder, there was a butterfly tattoo. Identical to Hannah’s.” You glance at Mike. “Just like the matching scar you saw from that wendigo back there with the miner.”

“Fuck!” He hisses, still looking to be in disbelief from this new revelation.

“We need to find Josh. Right now.” Sam says, taking initiative and turning back on her heel.

You all return to the water, hoping to find Josh soon and get the fuck out of these mines before more trouble finds you.

None of you notice the beady eyes of the wendigo that watches you, it’s butterfly tattoo a shining beacon as to who it used to be just one year ago.

Character Traits: 

Honest: 6/10 ↑

Charitable: 9/10 

Funny: 4/10  

Brave: 8/10 ↑ 

Romantic: 8/10 ↑ 

Curious: 5/10

Relationship Status:

Ashley: 3/10

Chris: 7/10

Emily: 6/10 

Jess: 3/10 

Josh: 7/10 

Matt: 7/10 

Mike: 4/10 ↑

Sam: 10/10

Chapter Ten || Chapter Twelve

[gogogodzilla]

Just wanted to say I loveee the way you write esp for the DBH characters <3 hope ur doing well!!

thank you for your kind words anon!! it means a lot, and i'm glad you enjoy my writing 😊

[gogogodzilla]

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅‧₊ .ᐟ 𝑀𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝐹𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑚𝑠  ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧₊ .ᐟ

   ♡ ⇢ 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡              ☾ ⇢ 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠         ✰ ⇢ 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑠/ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

 ⋆｡°✩ 𝑎𝑛𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑦 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑜𝑛

⟶  𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑒  ♡

     ⇢ Anthony Bridgerton was a ravenous man

 ⋆｡°✩ 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑒 (𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑤 𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑦)

⟶  𝑈𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑂𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛  ♡

     ⇢ The first time he saw you was when you entered the Stardrop Saloon. You were prettier than anything he’d ever seen before and so full of life

⟶ back to main masterlist

all works belong to @/gogogodzilla ! i do not consent to have my works copied, reposted, translated, or used for ai 

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ♡

[gogogodzilla]

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ö‧₊ .ᐟ 𝐶𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝐷𝑢𝑡𝑦  ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

   ♡ ⇢ 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡              ☾ ⇢ 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠         ✰ ⇢ 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑠/ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

 ⋆｡°✩ 𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛 "𝑠𝑜𝑎𝑝" 𝑚𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑠ℎ

 ⟶  𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝐻𝑒'𝑠 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑁𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑑   ♡

     ⇢ Johnny’s mohawk is good for one thing and one thing only

 ⟶  𝐵𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠, 𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑, 𝑇𝑒𝑒𝑡ℎ   ♡

     ⇢ You’ve always been told not to go out into the woods during the full moon

 ⋆｡°✩ 𝑘ö𝑛𝑖𝑔

 ⟶  𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝐼𝑡. 𝑇𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝐼𝑡.    ♡

     ⇢ There was something exhilarating about bringing a man as big as König to his knees

 ⟶ back to main masterlist

all works belong to @/gogogodzilla ! i do not consent to have my works copied, reposted, translated, or used for ai 

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ♡

[gogogodzilla]

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅‧₊ .ᐟ 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓 𝐴𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑈𝑠  ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅‧₊ .ᐟ

   ♡ ⇢ 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡              ☾ ⇢ 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠         ✰ ⇢ 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑠/ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

 ⋆｡°✩ 𝑏𝑖𝑔𝑏𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑙𝑓

 ⟶  𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝐴 𝐿𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟   ♡

     ⇢ You avoid having sex in Bigby’s apartment like the plague, but when his hands are touching you just right and you feel like you might explode if you wait any longer, it’ll do

 ⟶  𝑆𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑆𝑖𝑛   ♡

     ⇢ Going undercover at a strip club has its benefits, especially if Bigby is in the audience 

 ⟶ back to main masterlist

all works belong to @/gogogodzilla ! i do not consent to have my works copied, reposted, translated, or used for ai 

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ♡

[gogogodzilla]

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ 𝐻𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑃𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

   ♡ ⇢ 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡              ☾ ⇢ 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠         ✰ ⇢ 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑠/ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

 ⋆｡°✩ ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑗𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟

 ⟶  𝐻𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑀𝑒 𝐷𝑜𝑤𝑛   ♡

     ⇢ There was something about his quidditch uniform that turned you on

 ⟶  𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑜 𝑌𝑜𝑢   ♡

     ⇢ You help Harry relieve some stress after a quidditch match

⟶ back to main masterlist

all works belong to @/gogogodzilla ! i do not consent to have my works copied, reposted, translated, or used for ai 

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ♡

[gogogodzilla]

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅‧₊ .ᐟ 𝑅𝑒𝑑 𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑅𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛  ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧₊ .ᐟ

 ♡ ⇢ 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡              ☾ ⇢ 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠         ✰ ⇢ 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑠/ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

 ⋆｡°✩ 𝑎𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑎𝑛

 ⟶  𝑇𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝐼'𝑣𝑒 𝐵𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝐿𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐹𝑜𝑟   ♡

     ⇢ Arthur's been improving his tracking skills and it's your turn to be the one hunted 

 ⟶  𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑂𝑛 𝐴𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑙    ♡

     ⇢ If there's one thing for certain about Arthur Morgan, he's going to take more than what he's paid for

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[gogogodzilla]

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ 𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ 

   ♡ ⇢ 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡              ☾ ⇢ 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠         ✰ ⇢ 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑠/ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

 ⋆｡°✩ 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑡𝑜𝑛

 ⟶  𝑀𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑀𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐴𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑙𝑜𝑤   ♡

     ⇢ Steve Harrington’s car was where you spent many a night wrapped against the boy, fogging the windows with your sexual ventures

 ⟶  𝑇𝑤𝑖𝑛 𝑆𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑀𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠   ♡

     ⇢ The walls of your apartment are thin and Steve lets his imagination run wild

⟶  𝐵𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑅𝑢𝑙𝑒𝑠   ♡

     ⇢ There’s just something about a sticky floor, a red solo cup, and a girl who wants nothing to do with him

⟶  𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝐾𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝐼'𝑚 𝑁𝑜 𝐺𝑜𝑜𝑑   ♡

     ⇢ Finally, the spider catches the cat

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[gogogodzilla]

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧₊ .ᐟ 𝐶𝑦𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑝𝑢𝑛𝑘 2077  ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧₊ .ᐟ

   ♡ ⇢ 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡              ☾ ⇢ 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠         ✰ ⇢ 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑠/ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

⋆｡°✩ 𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛𝑛𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑

 ⟶  𝐶𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑂𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑤   ♡

     ⇢ Johnny Silverhand was a parasite. But, he was your parasite…

 ⟶  𝐼 𝐷𝑖𝑑 𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐵𝑎𝑑   ♡

     ⇢ Johnny relies on a pretty pop star and a miracle to fix his reputation

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[gogogodzilla]

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ 𝑈𝑛𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑑  ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

   ♡ ⇢ 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡              ☾ ⇢ 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠         ✰ ⇢ 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑠/ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

  ⋆｡°✩ 𝑛𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑘𝑒

 ⟶  𝐼𝑛 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝐴𝑟𝑚𝑠 𝑇𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡   ♡

     ⇢ Nathan Drake never knew when to shut his mouth

 ⋆｡°✩ 𝑠𝑎𝑚 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑘𝑒

 ⟶  𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐿𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝐴𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟   ♡

     ⇢ Sam drags you to the middle of nowhere. Again…

 ⟶  𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝐴𝑛 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼'𝑚 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑀𝑎𝑛   ♡

     ⇢ Your parents told you to never accept rides from strangers, but what if that stranger is hot and twice your age?

 ⋆｡°✩ 𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑟

 ⟶  𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑒   ♡

     ⇢ Rafe Adler was a liar, amongst many other things. He said he’d be to bed after just one more phone call… That was four phone calls ago

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all works belong to @/gogogodzilla ! i do not consent to have my works copied, reposted, translated, or used for ai 

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ♡