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feistyfreaks · 6 months

Note

Do you take request,

especially about Miguel ohara, if yes can you do an ghostface!miguel I been reading people ghostface!miguel and I’m currently obsessed with that au of Miguel

ghostface!miguel x nerdy/shy reader (female)

at alll I hope you have an great day

THE ALLIANCE ⋆༺☠︎︎༻⋆.

pairings ❀⋮ nerdy!female reader x ghostface!miguel

cw ₊❏❜⋮ dubcon, cnc, sexual manipulation, oral (f receiving), virginity loss, choking, spanking, unprotected sex, rough sex, mask kink, creampies. (spanish translation added.)

note⋮ hi anon, and yes i absolutely take submissions for miguel! i’ve been wanting to do something w ghostface miguel for a while now so i was excited to make this, have a great week too love, i hope you enjoy this! 🕷️

the night was cold and heavy. gray clouds obscuring the sky, raindrops bouncing off the concrete floors, trees dancing from the winds fanning in october’s drowsy weather. and yet there you sat, studying like the little goody two shoes you were instead of going out to enjoy your night n tricker treat like your other classmates were. but no, you chose to stay home for halloween.

the prig who always sat in the front of the class, paying attention and answering all the teachers questions was you. no one would be surprised if you stayed home up on your desk finishing up the stupid seven and a half sentenced essay, that you were so determined to get an A+ on.

the clock hit midnight and you were still up on your desk, fixing those grammatical errors and revising your work before you submitted your work that night. the pencils lead broke in half and you groaned, giving in to giving yourself a break; so you stood up, feeling tired and drained.

you walked into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly opened as you took off your glasses and began untying your low pigtails styled with red ribbons. just then you heard a scratching sound at your door, taking a glance you thought it was your cat so you decided to ignore it.

you unbuttoned your shorts, sliding them off your legs and throwing them into the hamper, doing the same with your shirt. the scratching on the door returned, “milo.” you warned to your cat from behind your bedroom door. you finished undressing, stepping into the shower.

yet the annoying sound of nails being dragged down your door made you more and more agitated, “milo, stop it.”

the eary scraps against your door finally came to an end as you sighed in relief, turning on the shower head. it felt refreshing to feel the warm water pour onto your skin as the glass fogged up from the waters heat. you stood there; just enjoying the moment.

you grabbed the shampoo bottle, opening the cap and spurting out a decent amount before lathering it in your hands and onto your hair; massaging the purifier into your scalp whilst washing it out.

you heard the bedroom door creek open from a distance, and you stopped what you were doing, listening in attentively. you turned around to find no one. absolutely nothing. you breathed in, it was probably just your paranoia; after all it was halloween, so you brushed it off.

you went back to showering, repeating the process at least two more times, you rinsed with conditioner before reaching for the body scrub you bought the other day from bath and body works; working the exfoliant into your skin before reaching to grab your handy dandy loofa to do the rest of the job for you.

you watched the soap run down your legs peacefully, and a loud crash interrupted you, your body jolting from the loud sound. you turned around quickly, to find a small blurry shadow jumping in the doorframes view.

“milo, ¡deja de hacer un desastre!” you yelled as you held your heart. (stop making a mess.)

you wiped the fog away from the shower walls glass with your hand, eyeing the bedroom from afar and before you could scold your cat again you saw a taller shadow come into view and walk past by the door. a chill ran down your spine, eyes widening in fear. that’s when the puzzle pieces connected; and you realized this whole time the scratching on your door wasn’t your cat.

and with a squeak you pulled the lever, the hot shower coming to an end. you reach for your towel, wrapping it around your fresh body as you stepped out. you slowly squeaked the bathrooms door opened, eyeing your bedroom.

you pushed past the door and into your bedroom that connected with your bathroom.

you noticed the door was wide open; inspecting the room you also spotted your lamp on the floor. you kneel down, picking up the lamp and grasping onto it tightly. “milo?” you whisper, your cat meowing in response. you sigh in relief, your cat was huddled up in your bed sheets.

you checked around the house slowly, then heading downstairs to slowly look in all the directions; aware of an intruder. you searched for the light switch, whining as you couldn’t find it. “hello?” you called out, but were met with silence.

you touched the walls and navigated yourself with the nightlights scattered around the house, feeling up a cold and dense surface and finally switching on the actual light. you blinked, eyeing the living room as you breathed in. your head was playing games with you, you laughed.

you turned around - a heavy weight attacking you in a blink of an eye, tackling you while they strangled you. you gasped, dropping the lamp as it shattered beneath you as your back collided with the wall.

“trick or treat.” a low voice rumbled as a hand quickly crept over your mouth, the knife resting on the pulse of your throat, muffling back your terrified scream. “fight back and i’ll slit your throat little girl.” his voice dipped menacingly as you struggled to move a muscle.

you panicked; your body disobeying your commands to move or even do something. you found yourself submitting, your heart pounding from the inside of your chest. eyes quivering in pure fear.

with a blurry eyesight, you managed to make out the same figure from earlier. huge, tall, broad and masculine.

your head wasn’t making up things.

but that’s not the only thing you noticed.

you made out a ghostface mask like in the horror movies, and the sharp knife in his hand pointed right at your throat. your breath hitched.

although the mask was freaky, it was oddly attractive.

he slowly dropped his hand from your mouth, testing you. “w-what do you want from me?” you asked, voice hoarse and shaky, trying to make yourself sound calm and confident but you failed miserably.

“want what’s in fronna me.”

“m-me?” you mumbled, holding onto your towel tightly.

“yes, you.”

“why.. me?” you asked, “because you look delicious.” he tittered, smirking underneath his mask as his hand lingered your soft body.

“delicious? a-are you going to eat me?” you asked with rosy cheeks. the male sighed, almost laughing at your response.

“eat here.” he whispered, trailing his finger down to your towel and towards your clothed mound.

oh.

you felt yourself internally heat up, you looked up at him. “is that what you want and you’ll let me go?” you asked quietly.

“i’ll pull some strings for you, perhaps lend you an alliance.” he hummed, slightly applying more pressure onto your neck as the knife indented your skin; a wince slipped out of mouth and you gulped, “promise to not hurt me after..?”

“you have my word, princess.” he uttered huskily, tilting his head to the side to admire you. “okay..f-fine.” you slowly say, already riled up from the tension between the two of you as you practically offer yourself to him.

n with that, he lowered the weapon from your neck as you felt the weight thrown your shoulders, exhaling in relief. he picked you up, throwing your body onto the couch as he bestrides your hips; making sure you have no where to escape.

you steadied your breaths, eyeing his every move. you felt shy, but his dominance eased your insecurity of being completely inexperienced. he lowered himself, as if to kneel before you; further until he settled in between the junction of your legs. he tore of the towel from your lower body, completely revealing you.

the only piece of fabric that was covering you was now gone, and you felt naked. a rush of arousal pumped your bloodstream as his digits slid through your already-slick folds, middle finger rubbing past your clit. he watched you, his arm wrapping around your thigh securely.

he slowly lifted the mask as you caught a glimpse of his perfect face proportions; bronzed skin, and plump lips attaching to the skin on your inner thigh, suckling on it before letting go with an echoey pop, marking his territory. he was slow, yet oddly ferocious when nearing your pussy.

he licked a long stripe amongst your slit, as he inhaled your alluring scent. “que sabrosa.” he murmured, shoving his face into your cunt. your thighs jerked closed feeling his tongue lap messily at your clit, with his arm he held you wide open and your hips instinctively buck into his mouth. (so tasty.)

“mmph!” you moaned, eyes blowing wide open, you grabbed onto the armrest for support. you felt hazy with the way his wet muscle flicked repeatedly at your nub, delving into your folds and into your puckered hole. he spits on your pussy, tongue swirling the bundle of nerves and teeth gently tugging at the abused pearl. you grew sensitive, grabbing his hair and throwing your head back in ecstasy as the room fills with slurping noises.

your inexperienced body decided that enough is enough; you squealed, thighs securing his head in place as your pussy throbs with your release and he continues to lave you through your high.

you push him off your poor pussy, overstimulated but instead he pushes off your hands; finishing licking off the slimy mess dripping down your entrance. you whine, squirming out of his grasp as he finally lets loose. “sabes tan rica princesa.” he chuckles, licking his lips. (you taste so good princess.)

“didn’t think you’d come so early.” he teases. you blink, catching your breath as you watch him get up; large body towering over you as he puts his mask back in place. he pushes your legs towards your chest and with one hand he unzips his slacks, cock springing free. his fingers spread your folds as his glans ran down gooey entrance, sliding in steadily.

he slips past your hymen, and you feel a sharp pain as if you just got impaled. you latch onto his arm tightly, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes. he’s kind enough to wait for you to adjust to the abnormal size of his dick; hand wrapping around your throat as he coos at you. he could tell you weren’t used to having anything inside you with the way you clamped around him so tightly.

he doesn’t wait for long, resting your legs over his bulky shoulders and with a roll of his hips he’s already going at it. you moan, eyes glossy with lust and need as he fucks into you with pace. his hand tightens and you feel the excitement coiling up inside you with the way your oxygen was being cut off.

he rolled his hips so fucking smoothly; his meaty cock thrusting into your sobbing pussy. “feels so fucking good.” he moans, pulling out to flip you over on your knees as he plunges into you again. he yanks your head back, “gonna rail this pussy so good you’ll be limping.” he groans, hips snapping into yours as your ass recoils with each of his thrusts.

he raises a hand to lay a harsh slap on your ass, imprint staining your cheek. your nails dig into the sofas leather, your moans harmonizing with the sound of skin slapping against skin; your eyes roll back as he stuffs his fingers into your mouth dripping with drool. your back arches as his tip nudges into your gspot roughly. electricity shot through your core feeling the coil unwind in your tummy.

“please, slow down — oh shit!“ you holler, body convulsing and milking his cock as he follows behind your intense orgasm. he groans, bringing your ass back to cum inside you nice n deep; emptying out his balls inside you. “that’s it, good girl.” he praises, landing another smack to your ass cheek. you writhe out of his reach and he pushes you off of him, slapping his girthy dick on your clit as you shudder.

he groans, watching his seed drip down your hole as you crawl away. “call the police n’ you’ll be good as dead you hear me?” he murmurs, pulling your head.

“g-got it.” you gulp, hearing shuffling noises as you suppose he’s dressing himself. your sleepy eyes watch him stand up and slip the knife back in his waistband as he walks out the front door, slamming it shut.

₊.⋆☾⋆⁺₊ PART TWO !

#ff⋆reqs 🧁#ff⋆inbox 📬#feistyfreaks #hornyhour #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara smut #no nut november #miguel o’hara x reader #kinktober

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thebeesareback · 1 month

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I just finished the audio book for Donna Tartt's novel The Secret History, so naturally I had to have a lil scroll to see what everyone thought on Tumblr. To add to the discourse: (spoilers, obviously)

Also trigger warning: incest, abuse, murder, alcoholism

Why is Tumblr so in love with Henry Winter?! He murders the farmer, Bunny, and possibly tries to kill Charles. He's manipulative and may well try to make Richard take the fall (har har) for Bunny's death. In the garden scene, he admits to being a psychopath/sociopath. Oh, and he's unbelievably pretentious

Also, why are there so many cute pictures of the twins hanging out? Their relationship was strained, incestuous, co-dependent, abusive. The whole uwu thing baffles me

Richard has a very obvious foot fetish and nobody is talking about it

The novel is quite funny, and I wish more people picked up on that. Most of the humour comes from Francis - the pinz nez stays ON during sex; no, Bunny's parents weren't very upset when one of their grandchildren ruined Francis' scarf, they were preoccupied by their missing son; and there's a throwaway line where the art students eat sushi with paintbrushes instead of chopsticks. I also liked when the twins panicked after Bunny's murder and decided to start repotting tulips

The farmer is referred to by name twice. Once in a newspaper, once by Bunny. Strange to think that he's the person in the squad who might actually have a conscience. Incidentally, Milo, the golden retriever who finds Bunny's body, has his name mentioned more frequently.

Richard is a smelly, badly dressed misanthrope. As is Henry, and Charles towards the end. Francis, Camilla and Hampden itself provide the (admittedly gorgeous) dark academia aesthetic, but if you want to end that dream, remember how terrible everything would have smelled. I guess the difference between appearance and reality is a pretty big theme

Julian is very creepy, obviously, but I was surprised that he wasn't more involved in the plot. He seems like exactly the sort of person to start a cult. I'd also like to know if he and Henry were in a sexual relationship, because we see them kiss once and then it's never mentioned again

Foreshadowing is done EXCELLENTLY through the book. There were a few characters who were described as ghostly at the start, and I THINK they're the ones who survive. Also, Tartt loves her pathetic fallacy (not phallusy).

Time is very strange. If you bothered to plot out all of the events, I don't think it quite makes sense. Term starts in September, say Richard joins Julian's classes in early October? That means all the picnics, the Sunday walks with Bunny, the trips to Francis' house, all happen over about five weeks, leading to the 12th November when Charles, Henry and Francis kill the farmer. Unreliable narrator, I guess

A lot of things about Richard's character make more sense when you realise the abuse he grew up experiencing and witnessing. Poor Ms Papen. Odd that Richard's parents don't visit him when he's in hospital

Funny that everyone is surprised when the twins' incest comes out. Like, they had an orgy at the start of the baccanal. Call me a prude, but I wouldn't attend an orgy with a family member

I would go for girls' night with Judy Poovey

Also, the book was published in 1992. Does anyone know when Prince Charles and Camila Parker Bowles went public with their relationship? Seems like an unbelievable coincidence otherwise

If anyone has an actual criteria for identifying alcohol abuse/alcoholism, please lmk if any of the main six characters AREN'T alcoholics. I'm pretty sure I got liver cirrhosis and lung cancer just from reading this book

#donna tartt #the secret history #richard papen #henry winter #charles macaulay #camila macaulay #francis abernathy #julian morrow #dark literature #dark academia #the macaulay twins

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multiplicationdivision · 6 months

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Company Policy

Milo was stuck on the worst run he’d ever taken. Cargo needed in 2 days and just under that time to get there in his truck if he drove without sleeping. It would have been near torture and even if the payout was better than amazing, it wasn’t something he would’ve taken a week ago.

Milo had a trick these days.

He’d picked up a hitchhiker. A backpacking twenty something, dumb and rugged. A golden retriever of a man that was handsome in a sense, but not in any way Milo was interested in. Too sweet and trusting for him. Men didn’t last long around him like that.

Especially now.

He’d been sweaty when Milo had picked him up, his shirt wet with the hot sun and turned to mud from the dust. That’s what you ask for travelling around the middle of the southern nowhere. Barely a thing worth shit on the endless roads between truck stops and motels. Maybe a rattlesnake or two.

It had been easy to get the happy fool to wear one of his backup Tees. He kept his spare uniforms in the back, enough to last him the long trips. Gray polyester that was boringly company policy to wear no matter what. Like Milo was employed under Amazon or FedEx instead the knock off generic delivery company that was obsessed with him maintaining their nonexistent brand.

Company policy was absolute. Not the soft idea of absolute, Milo receiving consequences for not following the rules or maybe even getting fired. Nothing weak and mundane like that.

Company policy like this was some mind-bending shit. It wasn’t something that could be broken, not by Milo who’d already signed his employment contract. He was bound by it’s rules and it would be a claustrophobic feeling had he not gotten such a good contract. Great pay, great time off and an understanding boss. He could deal with the strange aspects of that contract for the benefits. Even manipulate them sometimes.

Only employees can wear their uniform. The contract states that on page 2 in full bold letters. Followed by a bunch of stipulations about assignment of uniform sizes and assorted accommodations.

The hitchhiker wore one of his shirts now. His ragged sweaty one was somewhere on the floor, balled up under the passenger seat. The man had said it was surprisingly comfortable for a uniform. Said he’d worked as a cashier for some fast-food joint and that theirs were scratchy. He’d said he was surprised Milo’s shirt fit him so well.

Company policy demands that only the employee who owns the uniform wears the uniform. Milo wondered if the hitchhiker noticed how baggy the shirt was on him minutes ago. How it sagged around his shoulders, the man smaller than him by far. Now it fit perfectly, tight against his skin.

Milo asks if the man knows about his favorite TV show. Some niche drama going back to the 90s, echoing the same plots over and over and over. The hitchhiker squints his darkening eyebrows, recognition blooming in real time. The man just remembering something he’d surely never watched.

He’d been clean shaven, but now the guy’s face was covered in a shadow that Milo recognized. He’d discuss his travels as he gazed outside. Not noticing the moment when the tales of a hitchhiker faded into recollections of hauls gone hilariously wrong.

Milo watched the changes out the corner of his eye, relaxing as the awkward conversation became easy. Their language becoming more and more alike by the second, the nervous dog of a man becoming loud like Milo. Discussing their nearly identical plan of scaling the Devil’s Tower and free climbing whatever parts of the Grand Canyon they could get to. Bragging about how little they needed to workout with so much time to spend climbing.

The other made sounds of discomfort every now and then. Milo wondered if it hurt to have a life scooped out and filled in again. It was likely just disorienting, the hitchhiker seeming to try to recount his college years only to remember that he’d been a cross country trucker for the last six years. He’d laughed about how nice it was that truckers could rely on each other when they needed help. Milo joked that it was hard not to pick him up when he was so handsome. They laughed because they looked remarkably similar.

At some point, Milo realized that he had ended up in the passenger seat. As if he’d slowly bled into existence without the awareness to realize it. Feeling a slight desynchrony from the still sweaty cargo shorts and trainers he’d been left with. The other Milo laughed at him when he complained. They both knew he had brought an extra pair of sneakers for this exact situation.

They were mirror images now, matching short beards and curly hair. A situation they were both used to by now. Three times policy had assured that the person wearing his uniform was Milo, no matter how it broke the rules of reality to do so. They were short staffed so his boss had told him to keep it coming.

Milo would always have a buddy for the road, someone to trade shifts with as the other slept. Another Milo keeping him company in every state, at every stop. It only cost a few nobodies and a shirt or pants.

It was a good trick.

#identical #copy #shapeshift #clones #male shapeshift #clothing tf #personality change #male tf #male transformation #my writing

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theflowerrooms · 9 months

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His Game • Spencer’s masterlist • main masterlist

Stockholm Syndrome

chapter 5 • back to chapter 4

chapter summary; testing each other, learning about your own trust. You’re developing some type of positive feeling toward Spencer, and he’s quick to prove to you just how much he appreciates it.

warnings: dark themes, smut, kidnapping, manipulative behaviour, dubcon, overstimulation, dacryphilia, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), unprotected sex, marking

wordcount: 4K

The room was dark when you woke up, hummed and stretched, arms covering the expanse of the bed. the opposite side of the bed wasn’t made, where Spencer had slept after the movies.

You basked in the bed that smelled like Spencer, smelled like your captor. You smiled and pressed your face into his pillow, it smelled even more like him. You remembered his lips on your lips, his hands on your waist.

A loud slam, the heavy door close outside. He’d gone. Your stomach dropped. You remembered him pistol-whipping you, remembered his thumb pressing into your wound.

You scrambled out of bed, eyes brimming with tears. You hated to be alone, you wanted so badly for him to just stay. Tiptoeing to the bedroom door, you pulled it open, sighing loudly with relief when you saw him there.

The understanding of the danger and severity of your situation was lost from you the second you locked eyes with him. Your chest burning with a pleasurable warmth and the tears in your eyes shifting into a comfortable glaze.

"Good morning Angel." He greeted you, smile on his thin lips. He placed a takeout bag on the small island and you deduced that the sound of the door closing was him returning rather than leaving. You watched him pull food from the bag, fresh, straight from the diner you loved so much.

You smiled sweetly and walked over to him, sitting at the island where he placed the food in front of you. You thanked him and he smiled wider at you.

He stood behind you as you ate, moving your hair so it wouldn't rub against your skin as he pet it. One of his hands pet your hair and the other rested against your collarbone, encouraging you to lean back against his chest.

It was so comfortable, warm and safe. It was terribly domestic, him loving on you while you ate food he got for you because he knew you loved it. It was enough to take away from the fact that you were being pet by your kidnapper, no idea where you were.

When you finished, you leaned back against Spencer's chest completely. He hummed softly and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you and kissing the crown of your head. "I have to go."

"What?" You pouted up at him before he'd even finished speaking and he pouted back at you, half mockingly.

"I have to go, for work." He said shortly and you huffed. You really didn't want him to leave. You feel like you should be grateful that you get to be left alone, that Spencer would leave. But you dreaded it. Those five days he was gone drove you insane.

Somewhere in the back of your mind also, you knew that if he wasn't there with you, you would have some clarity, you would be fully aware of how scared you should be, how dangerous Spencer is. You didn't want that clarity.

He grabbed a notebook and pen from his satchel and sat next to you. "You need more things to do when you're alone, I know that you'll get bored quickly, I imagine it was difficult while I was gone before." He spoke and you nodded.

With that you and Spencer curated a list of things he could bring back for you. Movies to watch, a sketchbook and drawing supplies, toys for Milo, cards, and a few other small things. You were grateful and looked forward to the new things. You were so lucky you figured. You saw so many kidnapping victims who were dirty and hurt, used, cold and hungry. But here you were, warm and clean, full from food you loved, writing up a list of things so you could have more fun. And the bruise Spencer gave you was almost entirely healed.

You started to feel sick, remembering the kidnapping victims you'd saved, the ones you hadn't saved. People just like you who'd been taken by people just like Spencer.

Spencer tapped your chin and you turned to look at him, the eye contact working wonders for your new anxiety. You didn't feel any resentment to him, no fear, you no longer felt sick. Still you felt more aware.

"Do you want me to bring any books for specific topics? So you can study? That could be fun." It was a very 'Spencer' thing, studying for fun. "You're interested in learning about entomology, right?" You nodded and he wrote it down. "What else?"

"Stockholm Syndrome." You rasped and the look Spencer gave you made your blood run cold.

"Do you think you are developing Stockholm syndrome?" You couldn't read his emotions at all. You heard excitement, remorse, guilt, disgust, hope.

"I don't know. Let me learn more about it and we'll find out." You had an attitude that hadn't been there since the first day you arrived.

"Are you developing Stockholm Syndrome?" He asked again, tense.

"When was the last time you went to see your mother?" You asked. You weren't concerned about his mother, you wanted to redirect him, bring up his mom so he would stop interrogating his victim.

And still, the look of guilt and sadness that took over his face made you regret it. His shoulders slumped and the corners of his mouth dipped down just slightly.

You frowned and timidly brought a hand to his face, holding his cheek gently and flinching when he leaned toward your touch. "I'm sorry Spencer." Your voice broke, you wanted to cry. You hated that you made him upset, you were terrified that he'd hurt you as punishment.

"It's alright angel." He put the list in his pocket and stood, you stood with him, following him to the door.

You pouted up at him, you still didn't really want him to leave. He smiled down at you and leaned down to kiss your forehead. You leaned up into his lips and he smiled against your skin. He proceeded to look over your face after that, gaze switching between your eyes and lips. He leaned down and kissed you. Deeper than last night, hand gripping the back of your neck and pulling you into him. You sighed against his lips and he pushed his tongue past your lips, kissing you until you whined softly and he pulled back.

"I'll see you tomorrow angel." A smile and then he left. You teared up as the door closed. Your heart pounded against your chest, syncing with the sound of each eight locks locking behind him.

You wished he'd come back. Wished he'd decide to just give up on work, throw away his life like he'd thrown away yours and come back and be with you.

Because quickly, you were all too aware again of how lonely, isolated and scared you were.

✽-

Were you developing Stockholm syndrome? For now you settled on no. Nobody who had Stockholm syndrome was consciously and blatantly aware of it. And you were sure that you couldn't possibly have Stockholm syndrome because you would have to be convinced that you were in love with Spencer, and you for sure were not.

You rested on the soft couch, curled up in a blanket. 9pm. You'd had a small nap way earlier and made yourself dinner, and now you sat comfortably, rewatching Scream, cup of warm tea in your hand.

It was the sex scene between Sidney and Billy playing before you, and it made you feel a way you hadn't before. Warmth in your stomach watching the way he touched her. You craved intimacy like that, you hated being alone like this. You wished Spencer would quit the BAU and stay with you full time. You shook your head at yourself. You wished the BAU would find you and bring you home, and then you wouldn't ever be alone, you could have intimacy from anyone, not Spencer.

Spencer. You watched Billy kiss Sidney, it made you think of the way Spencer kissed you, how he asked first, how he didn't kiss you before you were ready. You had been so lucky, Spencer was an incredible captor, so sweet to you.

You could hear footsteps, locks turning and your heart jumped in your chest. What if you'd been found? Unlikely, but maybe that door would open and Derek would be behind it, or Hotch, or even some ordinary police officer.

It wasn't, it was Spencer. And surprisingly you felt relief that it was him instead of someone coming to your rescue. You didn't even process your own thoughts before you placed your tea on the coffee table and raced over to Spencer, face buried into his chest and arms around his waist.

He chuckled lowly and held you close to himself, burying his face into the crown of your head and inhaling deeply. He pressed kisses to the part in your hair and hummed. "I missed you angel."

You just hummed in response, telling him you missed him too without verbally admitting it, which you weren't sure you could. He cupped your cheeks and lifted your face so he could look into your eyes.

He held eye contact with you for a lengthy moment. It was a strange gesture that you figured most people wouldn't understand, you hardly did. What you did understand was that Spencer struggled with eye contact, and still he pushed himself to make eye contact with you, for you.

He kissed your forehead, then between your eyebrows, leaving a trail of kisses down the bridge of your nose before he found your lips, kissing you deeply, tongue chasing yours.

You blushed and moved away from him when it got too much, stomach flipping and heart pounding, face sure to be deep red. You looked down at your feet and he held your chin, turning your face up to look at him.

"How was your day my angel?" He asked, hand gliding down your back to the hem of your shirt, his hand slid up under the fabric and he stroked your back softly.

"Good. Long." You sighed. I missed you. "I like it better when you're here." You whispered, as if anyone aside from Spencer and your cat would hear you. Your heart soared and the look your words brought to Spencer's face, brown eyes filled with appreciate and wonder.

"Everything is better when I'm with you angel. That's why I needed to take you here." He brushed your hair behind your ear with his free hand and you nodded in understanding, in agreement.

Spencer was a good man. And he'd gone through so much, if you made things better for him, he deserved to keep you.

You went through the bag of things Spencer brought with him to occupy you when he was away. More movies and some cards and art supplies. You placed the books on entomology and Stockholm Syndrome on a shelf. You wouldn't open the Stockholm Syndrome books you'd decided, you're smart, you're a profiler with the FBI, you would know if you had Stockholm Syndrome.

Now you sat on the floor, you and Milo playing with a wand Spencer had gotten him while the man put together a scratch post for the cat, wide smile on his face as he watched you.

You smiled and laughed watching Milo. That's how amazing Spencer was, he didn't need to bring Milo, didn't need to spend money on him, but he did, for you. You were so lucky.

You remembered how scared you were when you thought Spencer might have killed him. You remembered how guilty you felt that Spencer killed your neighbour, but you knew he wouldn't have done that if he hadn't needed to.

'Derek does not matter anymore' You remembered him saying that, for the first time since he arrived from work, you felt uneasy. "Spencer?" You got his attention. "When we were fighting, you said Derek didn't matter anymore. Did- did you do something to him?" You didn't miss the way his eyes narrowed and his jaw tensed. "I'm only asking 'cause he's like my brother. I don't love him like that- like the way you love me." Your voice shook, eyes brimming with tears.

He took a moment to answer you, each passing second leading you to be more and more worried he had killed Derek. "No. Derek's fine, I didn't hurt him- I meant that he doesn't matter because all you need now is-is me, I brought you here and you're mine, I'm all that matters." He didn't raise his voice at you like you'd expected, he didn't seem very angry, more anxious.

"You do matter Spencer." You reassured him, chewing on your lip and petting Milo. "I just was worried about him, I'm sorry." You looked down at your cat, purring in your lap, you didn't want Spencer to see the tears rolling down your face, but he did anyway.

"I promise Derek's alright. He's worried about you, and he misses you. But you're perfectly fine right?" He sniffed and you nodded as he stood. "Alright angel, come here." He ordered and you listened, immediately going over to him. A small part of you worried he'd hurt you, a large part of you was thrilled when all he did was pull you into his arms. "You don't have to be sorry for how you feel angel, it's okay to worry about the people out there. Do you understand? No apologies." He spoke softly and you nodded. He kissed the top of your head and his lips turned in a smile. "It's getting late darling, let's head to bed.

✽-

You looked at your clock, 4:12AM. The lights were off and you were comfy in your bed with Spencer asleep, arm thrown over your side, Milo sleeping soundly at your feet.

It was so cold, you huffed as you moved closer to Spencer, failing to get any extra warmth. You pushed his arm that was weighing you down and slid out of the bed, intending to get a blanket off of the couch to add to the pile of blankets on the bed. When you walked toward your open bedroom door, you immediately noticed it.

The door to the exit was wide open. You looked back at Spencer and Milo before you sped over to it. There was a wooden staircase that lead up to an open hatch, the star filled night sky behind it.

You looked back to your open bedroom door, you could see the shape of Spencer in your bed, still asleep. Your legs shook as you bounded up the stairs. Collapsing at the very top one, sitting down and heaving breaths of fresh air.

You reached an arm out and touched the damp grass, breathed in the chilly air, stared up at the stars and the moon that you had unknowingly missed so terribly.

It was a moment before it dawned on you that you could leave. You looked around, in the woods somewhere with no idea how to get home. Still it was a chance. You could put Milo in his carrier and leave. Find your way back to home, to Derek and the rest of your family.

You refused to reflect on the way you felt, the way you weighed your options, and the idea of leaving Spencer scared you more than the idea of staying with him.

You wiped the tears from your eyes as you closed the hatch and went back down the stairs. You rubbed at your warm cheeks after you closed to door to the exit. You chewed your lip as you rushed back into the bedroom, immediately climbing back into the bed with Spencer.

You held the blanket in fists as you pressed your back against Spencer’s chest with force, exhaling a sigh of relief when his arm snaked around your waist again.

“You could’ve left.” His voice startled you despite how quietly he whispered. You bit down on your lip and turned to face him, hiding your face against the column of his throat.

“I know.” Your voice shook and he held you close to him. “I didn’t want to… I really liked seeing the stars out there though. And- and the moon.” Spencer could feel your tears wetting his shirt and he kissed the top of your head before twisting so you lay flat on your back and he hovered over you.

“Thank you for staying.” He whispered, eyes glossy. He kissed you, a quick gentle peck before he stared into your eyes. Then his hand was on your throat, kissing you harder and deeper than he had before.

In a matter of seconds you were panting and keening toward him. His thigh slotted between yours and you hadn’t even noticed that you’d been rubbing yourself against his thigh until his hand moved from your throat to your hips, guiding you, swallowing the soft and needy whimpers that left your throat.

Lips fell from yours to your neck. “Thank you so much Angel. So good for me- gonna let me thank you?” His voice had a needy rasp that had you reeling, nodding your head as fast as you could. You felt him smile against the warm skin of your neck. “Words baby, let me hear that pretty voice.” And you gasped as he immediately began to suck on your pulse point.

“Yes, Spencer. Please.” You stumbled over each word that left your mouth, whining for him. He happily obliged, leaving kisses and hickeys down your neck until he got to your collarbone. He shuffled further down, pressing your shirt up to your chin. He groaned and wet his lips with his tongue.

“Pretty angel.” He rasped, hands gripping your sides roughly while he took a nipple in his mouth. He hummed around it and you moaned, you could feel his bulge growing beneath his pants. He left hickeys over your sternum, your stomach. And then he quickly pulled your pants and underwear down and off.

It startled you, but you were too needy to care. He hadn’t asked, but you were sure he’d stop if you asked him to.

His hands were warm on your thighs as he spread them, and you didn’t have time to be nervous or insecure before he was gliding his tongue through your folds and capturing your clit between his lips, moaning around it.

You moaned in return, legs shaking on either side of his head. Everything felt so intense. Because you hadn’t been touched like this in so long, because for such a long time since you got here, you’d only been touched at all by Spencer. You depended on him for intimacy and you yearned for his hands on you.

He moaned against you again and it shot vibrations and hot energy up your stomach and spine. He sucked your clit and shook his head from side to side, you couldn’t control your hips bucking up against Spencer’s mouth, but he didn’t seem to mind it one bit, he yearned for it.

A whine began to leave your kiss swollen lips, breaking half way and turning into a moan when Spencer inserted his index finger into your cunt. He didn’t go slow, but that didn’t matter. You were so wet and desperate, ready for him, that it just slid in with no resistance, your body took him in immediately, clenching desperately around his one finger.

Never would you verbally admit it, pressing back against his mouth and hand, not physically capable of getting any words out, you desperately wanted more. Another finger, for him to go faster. It didn’t seem you had to ask for anything because he already knew what you needed.

In one fluid motion, he added his middle finger alongside his first one, fucking them in and out of you at a faster pace. You were already overloaded on pleasure before he started flicking his tongue fast over your clit, simultaneously crooking his fingers upward and bullying your g-spot.

You were practically screaming. “Please, please, please… god… please-” your begging turned to incoherent rambling and that on its own turned Spencer on beyond belief, hips pressing his cock against the mattress for some relief.

Your whole body felt tense, freezing and hot at the same time. Your legs tried to close, push Spencer out but he held your left thigh down with his palm, keeping you in place. “Come on sweet Angel, you got it, cum for me.” He mumbled against your heat, voice heavy.

That’s all it took before the coil deep inside your stomach snapped and you screamed, hips shaking and legs locking behind Spencer’s head as you came.

All of your muscles seized up and relaxed repeatedly as came, and you hardly had any time to actually come down from your orgasm before Spencer was kissing you and you felt the tip of his cock pressing against your cunt- still raw from your orgasm.

“Spencer- ‘s too sensitive.” You whimpering, raising your head as much as you could to look at where you met below your waists. He was much bigger than you’d expected, intimidatingly so.

He didn’t seem to care how sensitive you were, listening to you let out a moan from both pain and pleasure as he fed inch after inch of himself into you.

“Been waiting for this for so long.” He groaned into your ear after letting his forehead drop to the pillow you rested on. “Thought about this every night for months and months. Needed it before I even met you, Derek showed us a picture of you and I knew. Knew I’d be deep inside you just like this someday.” He rambled, that was all the time he gave you before he thrusted in and out of you at an unexpectedly fast pace.

You were so sensitive, it felt too good, too much, overwhelming. Spencer moaned as your nails dug into his shoulders, it only made him fuck you faster. He kissed away each tear that fell down your flushed cheeks.

He knew he’d finish embarrassingly fast, he’d wanted nothing more than this for so long. He slid a hand down between you both, rubbing fast and tight circles over your pudgy, swollen and tender clit.

You screamed yet again, heels locking behind Spencer’s back unintentionally, pulling him closer to you. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, broken whimpers and sentences without words rushing out of your mouth.

Only a few more thrusts from and you were cumming again. Hoarse whines of pleasure echoing off of the walls of your prison. The constant clenching of your walls around him triggered his orgasm. He bit down on the junction between your neck and shoulder to centre himself as his hips jerked and he came deep inside of you, painting your cervix.

For a while you stayed like that, Spencer hovering on top of you, hot breath on your neck, cock softening inside of you. It was relaxing, you needed this peaceful intimacy more than he did and he knew that, more than happy to give you everything you needed right now.

His chin dragged against yours as he lifted his head again. You moved forward and kissed him, the first kiss you’d initiated since he took you. His lips were soft, dented from his teeth, salty from the sweat and tears he kissed off of you.

He kissed you back, humming happily, smiling, which made you smile too. He pulled out, much to your dismay, grinning at the sad sound you made at the loss of his cock inside of you.

The second he was laying on his back you were turning and curling into him, he didn’t mind at all, beyond happy to hold you, coddle you and give you kisses over your damp hairline.

“Do you wanna shower now angel? Or would you rather to shower in the morning?” He asked you, sweet and sultry. You just shook your head, pressing your face against his bare chest.

“Don’t wanna shower yet, just want- I want you.” You sniffled, foggy and clingy, he grinned down at you.

“You’re always going to have me.”

@justanerd1 @the-sun-died-out @eddies-van86 @alfjorcitos @natashaashleymarvelromanoff @tuesday-yellowxx @niyahwhoreworld @wilcherwatchers @aesthetics-villa @no-soy-fer

#petalwrites #his game #spencer reid fanfiction #dark spencer reid #dark!spencer #tw kidnapping #kidnapping #kidnapping fic #smut #angst #spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut

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perfectlovevn · 20 days

Note

Helloooo!! I hope you're well!! I have a new question to ask!! :D

It's about Violence Milo, if you scratch his chin like you would a cat or a dog, while saying "good boy", how would he react? A bit of the same question also for Manipulation Milo. (idk why i ask this, this was funnier in my head AHAHHA)

And another but this time about pre Milo, is he as innocent as people think?

These were my little questions for the day, I'm going back to draw Yuka and Milo, have a good day!! <33

hello from Yuka

Hellloo! How are you doing!! I hope Yuka is doing well.

Violence being chin scratched? And being called a good boy? He would probably freeze for a bit since he's surprised and then turn really red. I think if you called him good boy, he'd want to hear it more, but he would never ask. You can kind of tell though considering he has kind of a pleading face whenever he does something he thinks would make you happy (like getting rid of your enemies).

Manipulation being chin scratched? And being called a good boy? He'd probably lean into it immediately and purr. Like actually purr, it's weird because you've never seen a person do it before, but apparently it is possible. He'd probably ask you again and again to scratch his chin. Being called a good boy would probably make him sweat a lot and he'd probably go something like "Right? I am a good boy~ Praise me more~" Interesting calling him a bad boy has a chance of either him freaking out and begging you to call him a good boy, or him getting mischievous and teasing about what you mean by that and what would happen if he continued being bad. Flip a coin.

As for PreMilo...

...Nah, I think he's pretty innocent.

#this is actually related to one of the extra stories I wrote #Now if it will be accessible by normal means is a different question #perfectlovevn #male yandere #yandere #yandere boy #yandere vn #milo asks #about milopre #about manipulation milo #about violence milo #also I would like your before remake fanart…#i will keep it forever

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ebonysplendor · 2 months

Text

Perfect Love Review 💖

TL;DR: Yeah, Milo is toxic and all, but growing up is realizing that, maybe I'M the problem. Maturing is realizing that it's not even a damn maybe; we're deadass the problem this time.

Game Link: https://c4game.itch.io/perfectlove

Notable Features: Sadistic MC, Gender options, LI turned Yandere, (8) Endings Tracker, Self-Insert Spiciness: 0/5 -- As far as I know, there's no spicy scenes, but I was so shook after my first playthrough, I just ran to make a review. That said though, this game is by no means wholesome LI MC Red Flags: 7/5 -- Sadistic, vindictive, manipulative, drugged someone, accessory to crimes, conspiracy to crimes, gaslighter, blackmailed someone, emotionally/mentally abusive, just..a lot of shit (and you thought Castiel was toxic)

Wanna know more? Well, let's get into it!

Fair warning, there may be way more grammar errors than normal because when I tell you that I played the first ending and ran to make a review, I mean that quite literally. That being exposed, just bear with me because this had very little proof reading because I was way too excited to tell you all about this game (without spoiling too much, of course) lol

What's up! Welcome back to another review!

Two things to start this off:

1. I know I already posted another review today, but I couldn't not write a review about this game and tell as many people that would listen to play it as soon as they could! 2. No, my friends, that was not a typo. It's not the LI we need to be concerned about; it's the MC. Yes, we're the problem this time around, and holy shit, please allow me to tell you about it! Or at least some of it, because I don't want to spoil too much.

As angry as this game made me, and as open and as wide as my mouth was during pretty much the entirety of this game, this has been the best damn visual novel I have come across to date! Yes, you read that correctly, and I will double down on it without hesitation; this is the best visual novel that I have ran across! Bitch, I would've paid money for this visual novel it was so good, and y'all know that I'm a cheap bitch! This was a $12.00 game (no, I still ain't over that! lol)! I would've gladly dropped that amount of money on this!

And I really hope I'm not exaggerating or overhyping it either, because I don't know which visual novels you guys have or haven't played, so let me clarify: For me, this is 1000/10 the best visual novel that I have read up to date. The pacing, the art style, the story its damn self, the fact that we're the problem this time around! Like, ugh, I could go on and on and on and on and on some more about this masterpiece of a game. I'm dead serious. I really believe that I could do an improvised one hour powerpoint presentation with absolutely zero prep time on how much of a chokehold this game has me in and STILL need an extra 30 minutes to an hour to really get my damned point across. It is that real for me. It is that serious.

All right, all right, all right, I'm gonna stop myself here because if I keep gushing, the intro is going to get way too long. That being said, it is officially time for me to write the synopsis. More than ever, I really mean this when I say, I'm going to tell you as much as possible without spoiling the game itself, and gods damn it, is it going to be difficult because, holy shit, the stuff that goes down?! I really want to tell you about it but fuck, if I do, then you might not play it yourself, and I can tell you right now, you have got to play this for yourself, and I highly recommend this game! Y'all are seriously missing out if you don't!

Okay, okay, I'm shutting up, because the intro's for real, for real getting too long and really redundant. Like, we get it, you love the game, start summarizing the damn thing! No worries, I hear y'all, and that's exactly what I'm about to do. Just a heads up, you're gonna need to buckle up for this one. Like, no, deadass. Buckle the hell up. I don't know what the hell kind of ride I'm about to take you guys on, but it's a damned wild one.

All right. Enough intro, enough talking. Let's finally get into it.

So, boom, and gods damn it, I mean, BOOM.

The game starts off with a little introducty-duction about how fucked up we are as a person. I'm not kidding about that. Basically, you know how we play these "dark romance" visual novels because the idea of someone being so unhealthily obsessed with you to the point of literally driving them bat shit crazy is something that just excites us for whatever reason? Yeah, we're like that in this game, except, we're literally delusional. Not the "quirky", cringey "aha, I'm so crazy~!", not delulu, like full on, needs to be admitted into the psychiatric floor of the hospital, delusional.

Anyways, we aspire to experience and permanently have that specific type of psycho crazy love, and damn it, we're going to have it, even if we have to go past just manifesting it and instead creating it ourselves, and I mean that quite literally. Let me explain.

See, at this point, there have been many failed attempts at getting this form of toxic love that we're after. At first, (or at least it's implied that) we tried to find it naturally, but it wasn't working out because, quite simply, it was never enough. I mean, sure, they cared about us, and sure, they would fight for us. Hell, they would easily do things for us if we asked, but they would always fall short because they wouldn't be willing to do anything and everything for us, let alone without us just being straight up about it and asking them to do so, and that, my friends, did not and will not fly.

Because we were tired of the constant failures and the constant disappointment, we decided to get on our boss shit and solve our problem instead of complaining about it. How do we solve it? By simply creating the love that we're after, and the first -- and most critical -- part of creating that love, is to find the right type of person. Someone who was a loner and an outcast. Someone that people ignored without so much as a second glance. Someone who allowed people to walk all over them and treat them any kind of way because they had no sense of self-worth. Someone desperate for affection, touch-starved even. Someone like...that new kid who recently transferred.

Milo Change. The perfect sap.

So, for totally non-selfish reasons, we play hero, and we step in to save the day. The bully -- his name's Ryan, by the by -- pretty much hightails it out of there once we intervene, and we're left with our suitor, and a suitor he'd better damn be because we didn't save his ass for nothing.

Milo gets off the ground, and he stumbles into us because he had gotten beat down pretty bad. True to expected nature, he apologizes, and starts rambling on about his friends for a little. He basically explains that, even though he knows that the people that he hangs around are really shitty, being new and not being used to the area makes him anxious to the point where he prefers their company over having no one and being alone. How coincidentally in perfect character he is...this is the one. Time to turn on the rizz.

When he asked why we jumped to his defense, we hit him with the ultimate "I was worried about you". This man's heart immediately gets to fluttering, and he's just making this too easy. It gets to a point where we make this "arrangement", so to speak. In exchange for giving him pointers on how to start standing up for himself, he has to date us. Of course, he jumps on this offer, because aside from him being the very type of spineless dweeb guy we're looking for, we knew that he had a serious crush on us. We know this because we had noticed that in passing and in the classes that we had together that he was always sneaking glances at us, so why not exploit that shoot our shot?

Anyways, we flawlessly sink the shot, and we get our date established. When we meet up, we decide to go to the batting cages, but it throws Milo off because they aren't the kind of batting cages that he was thinking of. Actually, quite frankly, it isn't really a batting cage but instead this really creepy room that has bats and is filled with mannequins.

Naturally, Milo starts asking questions, because now he's pretty uncomfortable with this whole thing, and it only gets worse when he sees us haul off and take a pretty ruthless swing at one of the dummies with a bat. At this point, Milo is holding one of the bats in his hands, and he's like "Nah, nah, I'm not into violence. Like, this is wild", but we reassure him that this isn't so much a reflection of character but a perfectly healthy way to get his anger out. He's still a little hesitant so we start planting thoughts giving him things to consider, and we're just like:

"Dude, are you not angry about the way that your so called 'friends' treated you? Did you actually like that they would use and abuse you when all you did was try to be nice? You did nothing wrong, and yet, they found it amusing to see you in pain. Do you really think you deserved to be treated like that...?" In short, we're just like "Getting your ass beat for the sake of friendship? Couldn't be me".

Milo stops for a second and really considered our words. After he really thought about it, he realized that he was and still is pissed about everything, and he goes in.

Like, really goes in to the point that the bat shattered and his hands started bleeding.

This scares the crap out of him because he didn't realize how much anger he had been holding in, but we find his performance desirable, not to mention severely attractive. Insert the Kronk meme because, my bois, it's all coming together.

We see the potential in Milo, and we're more than happy to help him reach that potential that we know he's capable of achieving. That being said, while he's trying to process what's going on, we just reassured him that we weren't scared of him and that it probably felt really good to finally get all that anger out. The tragic part is that Milo innocently agreed that it did.

We smile about the fact that he unknowingly took the bait, and we keep reeling him in. We tell Milo that we're really happy that he was able to get that anger out, because we understood that the world could be and is super cruel. While we're on the topic of the world being a really messed up place, we just idly bring up the concern of something happening to us and whether Milo'd protect us or not. Milo is once again thrown off because, yeah, the world is cruel, but why would we even picture a scenario like that? So, we explain that it's not necessarily that we wanted to think about it, but that because there's so much violence going on in the world, it was natural to think about.

That being said, we double down and tell him that he may have to protect us one day and fight back. We already know how Milo feels about violence, so we tell him to think of it more as self-defense and not so much as an excuse to be violent towards others for the sake of being violent. It was protection, really, for both himself and the people that he loves and "Milo...you'll protect me...right?"

And, once again, very innocently, he promises us that he will.

With that declaration, he became stronger. He upgraded from mannequins to glasses, plates, and whatever else in ramshackled houses to cars in abandoned lots. He even did classes that taught him how to fight, whether for self-defense, to protect others, or to simply hurt someone. He had become a bit more brash, and the "friends" that he had before started to back off because he was so different, but that was okay; that was what was best for him, and even more importantly, that was what we wanted.

Milo clung onto us. He knew that he was the only one that we could trust because our sweet Milo deserved the world, but the world didn't deserve him. He knew this because we told him exactly that, and why would we ever lie to him? We wouldn't, and because of that, Milo believes that we're the only one that he can trust -- as it should be.

Milo was slowly, but surely, starting to learn, but despite this improvement and despite this change...

...It still wasn't enough. Just the same as before.

Nah, nah, nah, I'm not telling you anymore, because it was hard enough withholding some of the details here. Know this though: this isn't even the halfway point let alone the thick of it, and this is one route out of eight that I just described to you. Yes, it gets damned wild, way beyond this.

FRICKIN FINALLY. I was about to explode trying to get to this part!

Guys, if it was not obvious, you guys have got to play this game! Like, I usually be like "Oh, if you want, and you have the time and feel like it, play this game" but nah, nah, nah, nah, NAH. This is not optional. You will seriously be missing out if you do not play this visual novel. Now admittedly, I got pissed at the MC because, shit, like, there's an option for self-insert, but I was so far detached from this character because this bitch is -- and Markiplier said it best -- fucking psycho crazy bonkers! Like, I saw certain stuff coming, but it's like, when it happened, it would be 10x worse than I thought it'd be.

Like, you honestly have no idea. The lil' synopsis I gave you at the top isn't even really a synopsis; more accurately, it's a teaser, because what I told you didn't even scratch the surface of what is going on. Guys, gals, gays, theys, all of y'all...please...I beg...play this damn game. Like holy shit, I cannot push this game enough. Like, yeah, sure, just to provide criticism or whatever, certain things or scenes are worded really "Ooh, I'm edgy and fucked up", and (unless I just read it weird) I think there were a few coding errors for nicknames and some super minor grammar errors, but like honestly, it doesn't even matter. I honestly couldn't give a damn because shit, the game is damned good! Like, there honestly isn't anything significant to complain about or critique. The dev? C4Games? They are out here, and they are setting the bar damned high.

Like, oh my gods, the fucking concept had me tripping out! Like, the whole "sadistic MC" or "The MC is crazy, too" trope isn't unheard of but, as far as I know, the execution itself is original, and I'm super geeked about it! A sadistic and twisted MC who is literally corrupting and molding an innocent guy to be the yandere that she craves. Like...what the hell? Ahhh!! I love it! Like, I literally cannot hold in the amount of gushing that I'm doing, and you can tell when I'm gushing because every other sentence will be "like, like, and like, like, like, and oh my gods, holy shit, like, like, like". Like lmao, I am gushing. I am ruined.

At this point, I feel that no other game will top this game. If I was making a tier list of the visual novels I have been reviewing, this is by far, no debate, an S Tier, God Tier, "whatever your highest tier would be" game. This visual novel is good, and I cannot wait to play the other seven routes, and guess what? The best part of all of this is that it's released! This is the entire game, and you can bet your ass that I'm going to be playing every route MUTLIPLE times!

Okay, I feel like the review and this overall post is long enough, and I want to stop myself from rambling and gushing anymore than I already have. That being said, that is officially all from me, and everyone's homework-- actually, nah. Everyone's project -- and it's going to be worth 100% of your grade -- is to play this damned game. EXPIDITIOUSLY. This is a requirement. This is an order.

Side note, I'm back on my sims kick, and I'm half tempted to make a family of the Milos I unlock because apparently -- pay attention! This is about to be a "pro, not really pro, but super helpful" tip! -- Milo's appearance and personality changes based on how you choose to mold him. Interesting, right? So, considering that there's 8 endings, I'm thinking there's 8 Milos, so...that's a full household in the Sims. Lol I might do it. I think I am.

Lol all right, enough rambling, I'm outta here for realsies! I hope everyone enjoys whatever time zone they're in, and, in case it wasn't clear or you missed it, play this damned game!

Anywho! Huge reminder! Drink water, don’t be dumb, play this game, and hope to see you around~!

Perfect Love

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redactahoe · 6 months

Text

Tank centric shaw pack headcanons

Tw:// this is unorganized brain rot shenanigans, there will be mentions and talk of Quinn, tanks shitty parents, etc. but it will be mostly fluffy shenanigans also mention of my personal tank headcanons, this also is unedited

Tank was and still is freakishly huge (like bigger than David) in wolf form but kinda “tiny” in human form. And this caused a lot of health issues and social issues. But Mr Asher “I befriend everything that breaths” Talbots(is that his last name??) decided at the age of 14 that he was going to befriend the impossible(or that’s how he puts it)

Asher is one of the few people that could touch tank without them flinching

Tank was born half deaf(like they hear next to nothing without hearing aids) and a little blind in the left eye, so b/c of this Asher with the help of David forced ever single pack teen to learn asl(American sign language) so tank could feel included

Tank also didn’t even realize that they were deaf, they thought that everyone heard like them and struggled for the first few years of life to learn how to read lips (they got to learn sign language w/ everyone else :) )

That is until it was Milo that noticed that tank was deaf and brought it up in the next hang out the teens did(tank wasn’t there cause they were taking care of honey they’re baby sib)

Then the word was passed on to Gabe who decided to take tanker to get some hearing aids

Asher likes to greet tanker by shifting and tackling them to the floor

Asher was the one to introduce tank to music and movies and shows when tank got they’re hearing aids at 15

Asher is a very touchy person and (other than Sam) knows that tank is very touch starved and cuddly

B/c of this Asher used to scare the shit out his mom and dad by jump scaring tank

Most of the pack except for Gabe, David, Milo, Marie, Asher, and a few others are afraid of tank b/c of not only their abnormally sized wolf form but also b/c tank was and still is very instincts based person and more animalistic in nature

Despite the fact that Asher is a giant goofball he still very protective of his pack and mate

The most protective of them all goes tank, David, then Asher. Everyone else is normal

Asher had to be physically held back from running down to the d.u.m.p facility that Quinn was in so he wouldn’t tear Quinn apart

The pack didn’t know the full extent of abuse tank went through until after Quinn was arrested and it’s safe to say that a lot of the pack(including our non werewolf members) had some pretty violent thoughts they wanted to enact on Quinn

When Asher’s parents started traveling and his sister moved tank regularly checked up on him b/c they know what it’s like to feel abandoned

Soon after tanks meeting back in daliha, they had a heart to heart with David explaining that Quinn would’ve only attacked the pack if they were “in his way”. And that the only reason tanks friend was attacked was because that friend consistently called Quinn out and tried to keep tank from falling to deep into Quinn’s manipulation. The said something like “ Quinn is a coward, he would never attack Shaw pack without a sure fire way of getting away with it or if he’s was running out of ways to manipulate me and the pack had too many connections for him to do anything that wasn’t a desperate last attempt.” This is really when it clicked for David that tank really knew what they were doing when they kept everyone away. Sure it was self sacrificing at its finest but tank probably didn’t see many other options

This was even more solidified for him when tank was going on for hours trying to get a rise out of Sam and he said that if tank kept “acting”(whatever that meant) they would’ve forced him to “hurt those precious little humans the Shaw pack keeps around”

Out of spite of what Quinn said about darlin being his last sight before death, darlin, David,angel, sam, Milo, sweetheart,Asher, and babe stayed inside and had a sleepover at the pack house and actively avoid Any thing regarding the execution

Around the time tank and babe started getting close(they’re besties b/c I said so) bab started to work for a research facility they focused on bettering vampires lives and was able to get in contact with William and DUMP to start a experiment to see if they could find a way for vampires to be in the sun by using Quinn as experiment fodder

Babe went ask tank for permission and tank asked why keep him alive babe responded with “Quinn has hurt to many people to just simply die, he deserves so much worse, and hey maybe he could be useful for once in his pathetic life :).

Tank obviously agreed because there was just something so ironic about how Quinn’s want for power and eternity(he use to go on and on about how vampires are superior and how powerful and old he was) would be the cause for his suffering

On that same note babe despite being kinda small can be quite scary

I’m gonna end it hear. I’ll make a part two sometime later

#redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted audio #redacted honey #sam collins #redacted sam collins #redacted angel #redacted darlin #redacted david #redacted headcanons #redacted asher #redacted milo #redacted baaabe #redacted sweetheart

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slightlystupidhun · 9 months

Text

Clip Your Wings

WELL!! You all decided you wanted some Angel angst!! The runner up in the poll was going to be who I killed off so please enjoy! (Also I didn’t proofread because it made me sad)

Warning: Angst, Violence, Character Death, Major Character injury, owie my heart

Summary: The boys go out on a mission and Tank plays body guard. However the night doesn’t quite go to plan.

Angel had been pacing back and forth for about 30 minutes on a rant about who was better at games between Ash and Milo. Tank had watched them practically burn a hole in the rug with how much they had been pacing.

It was always funny, to Tank at least, whenever Angel would get into these fits. It would always be so hard to pull them out of it until they got a clear answer.

“Eh I think you should conclude that Milo is a bit worse than Ash. He’s okay but if you put him in a halo game, Ash has got him beat easily.” Tank yawned into their hand. “Not to mention if you put them in a horror game together.”

Angels eyes lit up with excitement. They had never thought of doing that but knew that it would be entertaining nevertheless. They walked over to the large leather couch and plopped down next to Tank.

“You really think we could make that happen?” Angels eyes beamed with anticipation. No doubt they were already scheming what to do next.

“I’m sure if he lost a bet we could.” Tank nodded and shrugged it away.

The night hadn’t been too bad this far. David, Ash, Cristian and Milo had gone out on a gig to help the department with some underground cult or something. DUMP needed brawn and the pay they provided was too good to pass up.

Since Tank was currently out of commission due to working the past two nights and refusing to tell Sam about a “small” ankle injury, David refused to let them go and instead had them stay with Angel.

Speaking of the Devil, or rather, Angel, they were now inserting a movie, it was Bambi. They loved the classic colors of the film and the adorable little cartoon animals.

~~~~~~~~

The small group of shifters blended in well with the department staff as they breached the cultist base. They walked through the cold cement building, it was only lit up by candlelight.

They soon arrived to a large wenge door, it was covered in scratches and red paint, making out faint markings of what looked to be a skull on a dagger. They slowly opened the large door to reveal the cult leader, who spun around in his chair in all evil villain fashion.

“Ah welcome, welcome friends.” He smiled at them menacingly.

“Blake. It’s over.” Sweetheart walked into the room, past the wolves.

“Maybe it’s over for now. But, not for me.” He let out a dark chuckle, glancing over to David. “You see I have been working day in and day out to…” he sighed. “Well if doesn’t matter anymore. I’m sure you wouldn’t care about me anyway.” He looked down, obviously trying to manipulate them. Then he smiled and made direct eye contact with David again. “But you do care for your precious Angel right?”

“Leave them be Blake, stop your short sighted tricks. It’s over.” Sweetheart said firmly grabbing their cuffs.

“Lets see if I remember your address… and if I don’t… maybe my shade will. He can clip your Angels wings”

~~~~~~~~

As the movie came up to the part (angels favorite part) where the animals find their “love” interests, Angel making plenty jokes about shifters doing the same thing, they heard a knock on the door.

It wasn’t a knock. It was banging. Loud banging.

That was when Tank got a call from David and immediately answered, already heading to stand between Angel and the door.

“Tank?” His voice called out frantically.

“Dav- what’s going on?” They asked, brows furrowing together and face scrunching up. They were preparing to shift if they needed.

“The cult they...” He took a sharp breath. “A shade, please get to somewhere safe and-“

Before he could finish Tank grabbed Angels wrist and took them down to the basement. Tank handed Angel the gun they always kept on them, in case they needed to defend themself.

“What’s going on Tank?” Angel said beginning to get scared.

“Anything comes down here you point and shoot.” They adjusted angels pose. “Just like this.”

“Tank, you’re scaring me… what’s going on?”

“A shade is here and I need to keep you safe.”

“What about you?” Angel asked hands shaking.

“I’ll hold him off until David gets here. I need you to stay here. Do not move from this spot okay?” Tank patted Angels shoulder and handed them their phone, Tanks screen lighting up with a text from Sam. “The code is 4321. Use it to call David if… just don’t move unless it’s to run away.”

With that Tank tan up the stairs, Angel could hear them locking the basement door and Tank shifting. The sound of wood splintering let them know that the front door was broken open. The large oak door seemed unbreakable to them, they could hardly believe it splintered, let alone broke at all.

They heard an ugly hissing sound, it must have been the shade. Then they could hear the sounds of fighting and growling. Angel had heard stories of shades from David. Tank really needed to be cautious… one slip up and they could-

Their thoughts were cut off by the sound of a table breaking and Tank yelping. They could hear the shifter take a large bite from the shade and another scream. Wait why did it sound like there were two shades? Angel swore only one was there a second ago.

They frantically texted Davey to let him know of what was happening.

Tank (Angel): They locked me in the basement. Tanks fighting two shades I think!! Davey please hurry!!

Davey: I’m on my way Angel hold on!

Sam: Hey Darlin how is your night going?

Darlin (Angel): Sam! A shade broke in, now there are two, Tank locked me in the basement and they are fighting them. It sounds bad.

Sam: I’m coming.

There were so many sounds happening. The sounds of Tanks phone flooding. The sound of wood splintering, glass shattering, a wolf yelping, shades screaming. It was all so overwhelming and suffocating. Luckily, the sound was getting quieter. Tank must have gone against one shade and won, but then they heard Tank yelp, a yelp similar to the one they let out when they rolled their ankle. Shit! They broke their ankle!!!

Angel tried to run up the stairs to go help but the door was locked and wouldn’t budge. The cold golden door knob now becoming their worst energy.

The sounds continued and the yelps got quieter, that was until it fell silent. Too silent.

Angel couldn’t tell how long it had been silent for. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? The silence was more deafening than anything and they now longed for the crashing and screaming and banging because that meant someone was still alive.

They sat against the door silently sobbing and curling up into a small ball. That was until the intense rush of footsteps ran into the house.

The basement door was very close to the front door. You only needed to take a left down the hallway. Footsteps, fast, and loud echoed throughout the hallway but Angel couldn’t stop themself from crying. The door suddenly flung open and Angel fell through to the floor, falling onto a familiar pair of hiking boots. It was David.

He gently picked them up and held them close to him. Cradling them and giving them soft kisses trying to comfort them. That was until Asher’s voice could be heard yelling from the kitchen.

“DAVID! DAVID HELP!” Asher sounded frantic and afraid. David stood up and ran over to Ash, fearing that his friend was being attacked. Angel followed behind David rushing through the hall.

Both of them froze upon arriving to the kitchen. There under Asher’s hand was Tank, a quickly fading Tank. Next to them, two dead shades. Their body was covered in blood and scratches and their ankle was popped out of place. Their face was becoming sickeningly pale and their lips were losing all color.

They smiled at Angle and gave them a sad nod.

“I won…” they said weakly coughing out.

“Hang on Tank! Sam is going to be here any minute! Please!” Angel said dropping to their knees at the shifters side. “You idiot! You should have run away! You shouldn’t have fought them… not for me!” They cried out loud.

“Hey…” Tank coughed. “I’d do anything to protect my Alpha.” They smiled softly.

David finally found his feet and moved to sit next to them. He tried to use his magic to heal them, he had taken a few classes after the last incident, but it didn’t work.

“Tank hold on please.” David said squeezing their hand.

“Davi…d T…Tell Sam… I love him… te…tell him he… he is the best… thing to…” their words got quieter and quieter and they began closing their eyes. David shook them, slightly slapping their cheeks.

“Hey! HEY! No no no no no You stay awake! You stay awake now!” David pleaded with Tank.

“You survived through all of this! You don’t get to die!” Angel cried out loud clutching Tanks hand.

“T…thanks for… for being… my family.” Tank smiled.

“Stop no final fair-wells! You don’t get to do that.” Angel patted their face. “You are gonna live! You and Sam are gonna get married, and I am going to force you to dress up, even though you will hate it.” They squeezed Tanks face and brought their forehead to touch Tanks cold skin. “Sam will look so dashing and smile at you like how he always does! You two will live a long happy life, and you will grow old, and be the godparent of any kid David and I adopt, if we do that.”

Tank chuckled which trailed off into a small fit of coughs. They felt so cold, so scared. They knew that it would happen sooner or later but god how they wished it wouldn’t be now. They wanted to live that life with Sam. To explore their new friendship with Angel. They wanted to be a part of the pack, to be a part of something that didn’t just involve fighting. They wanted to live.

But life was cruel. They learned that day one. They got colder and their eyes grew heavier. It was happening it was always gonna happen.

Angel remained in their spot. Their forehead pushed against Tanks.“Please! I need you to be here! You can’t die you can’t-“

“Darlin?” Sam walked in. The pit in his stomach grew and he felt physically ill. He immediately got down and tried to heal them but nothing seemed to work. They squeezed his hand and slightly shook their head.

They had talked about this, Tank wanted to live their natural life. They wanted to die when it happened. They didn’t want to be turned.

“Darin you know I gotta ask you one more time. Do you.. do you want me to.” He began to choke on his tears.

“Tank please…” Angel said sobbing out loud.

“Hey… I’m su..posed to… be th.. one cryn…” they looked back at Sam and shook their head. Denying his final offer. He solemnly nodded and lifted their head to rest on his lap. He ran his fingers through his mates hair as they drifted of to an eternal rest. “I… luv… y’all …” was the last thing they told the room before finally succumbing to their injuries.

Their lifeless body laid on the floor, in their mates arms, hands holding their Alphas and their best friends. Their family, Milo, Cristian, and Asher, stood in the corner of the room, holding one another.

This day would be one that broke Angel. They truly loved keeping company and being the friend of Tank. Watching tanks bored expressions during pack meetings always brightened their day. When they went to the first meeting without Tank… or Sam. They had to excuse themself to cry.

They moved out of the previous home they built with David and into a new one closer to the woods. They would go to sleep and still feel the cold wall of the basement, and hear the screaming and crashing and banging of their home.

They would hear tank screaming for help before dying in their hands, being suffocated by the loss. By the fact that they couldn’t do anything.

And in the end Angel never got over that feeling. Tank made them feel like they were strong. That it didn’t matter that they were unempowered. However, this situation reminded them of one thing. They were powerless. They were human.

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