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agena87 · 1 year

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50 questions: Alfie's Edition

(Those answers are meant to apply to post-Kiyoshi!Al, before he gets together with Wolfie & Mal)

1. What would completely break your oc? He is pretty broken already, but finding himself face to face with Kiyoshi, or even hearing his voice on the phone would finish him off, so to speak. The mere thought of him gets Al in a state of pure terror, so finding himself in contact, even indirectly, with him? It would be devastating and probably would send him right to the bottom of a few bottles.

2. What is the best thing in your oc’s life? At the moment, there aren't a lot of good things in Al's life. So, probably his family or his farm. His family, especially his mom, supports him and is always here when he hits rock bottom, though he feels like they are a bit overwhelming, and shouldn't worry about him, since he thinks he doesn't deserve it (rather, he thinks he deserves to be miserable). As for his farm, working there helps him clear his head a bit, though not enough to not turn to meds, alcohol, or a razor blade (or occasionally sex) to try to drown all the dark thoughts that plague him 24/7.

3. What is the worst thing in your oc’s life? Currently, the alcoholism, meds abuse, and self-harm. And of course, the trauma that is the cause of those self-destructive tendencies. Kiyoshi's face behind his eyelids each time he closes his eyes. The nightmares that awake him nearly every night, the physical pain from the event that caused his trauma, the event being Kiyoshi trying to kill him on their wedding day. Storytime! A few months after Wolfie left for Windenburg and met Jeb, and just a few days after Mal announced that he was going to be a father, Kiyoshi felt giddy that his “rivals” were not a threat anymore (I don’t know why Mal’s being a father meant that he would not love Al anymore, but Kiyoshi saw it that way since he was starting to become delusional at the time), and thought that it was a sign that he and Al were meant to be together forever. So, during a dinner with Al’s family, he proposed, which Al, being in denial of the situation he was in, accepted readily, to the chagrin of Agena – Al’s mother – who, while not knowing the extent of the abuse his son was enduring, knew that Kiyoshi was not the man Al should promise himself to. During the time between the engagement and the wedding, Al and Wolfie started talking again on the phone, and Al ended up inviting his best friend to the ceremony. Come the day of the wedding, Kiyoshi saw Wolfie and lost it. Enraged, he stormed the room where Al was getting dressed with the help of his aunts, Tabitha and Marie (note: he had decided to wear the dress his mother wore for her wedding with his father, Cédric – the dress she was still wearing when Cédric died from a heart attack in front of her). Kiyoshi threatened the two women, his crush on Tabitha long forgotten, to leave the room, and the moment they left and the door was locked, he started to shout at his fiancé, accusing him of cheating on him with Wolfie, and insulting him. Despite Al’s defense, Kyoshi didn’t listen and started to strangle him and shake him. After a few long minutes of this treatment, Kiyoshi wanted Al’s to stop talking (though he could barely utter a few words) and violently bashed his head against a wall twice. When people - namely Agena's cousin/parent, Seamus, and their husband, Karl, arrived at the scene, alerted by Tabi and Marie that something was off, Al was unconscious and barely breathing, while Kiyoshi was prostrated on the floor, crying and repeatedly asking for forgiveness. Despite Tabitha's best efforts to prevent her sister from seeing it - while trying to calm her girlfriend down (as the scene reminded her too much of her own brother dying on his wedding day), Agena stormed the room and, seeing her first son, lifeless, wearing the dress she wore when his father, the love of her life, died in front of her, she lost it. Usually a poor magic user, she destroyed the room in a fit of rage and would have killed Kiyoshi if Seamus hadn't managed to let her go of her magic. Al woke up, about ten days later, in the hospital.

4. Does your oc work so that they can support their hobbies or use their hobbies as a way of filling up the time they aren’t working? Actually, his work is also his main hobby. Since he was little, he always loved gardening and taking care of plants, thanks to his mom who transmitted him her love of botany. And taking care of his many animals (he has goats, chickens, a couple cows, ducks, a pig, a few rabbits, and a horse) doesn't feel like work to him either. He doesn’t really have any other hobby nowadays. Before everything that went wrong in his life, he loved reading or exercising, but now, he can’t concentrate enough to read more than a few pages at a time, and his physical health is shite and his work is all the exercise that he can bear (when he is even able to work – luckily, he has a farm hand to help – Agena, and his younger brother Paul-Louis, also lend him a hand sometimes).

5. What is your oc reluctant to tell people? So many things. He really doesn't tell anyone anything these days. But what he would never, under any circumstances, tell to anyone, is what was really happening with Kiyoshi behind closed doors; though they can easily imagine it (though they could never imagine enough).

6. How does your oc feel about sex? Before, Al thought of sex as something beautiful, something that made you and your significant other closer, a way to show your love. Now? Now he thinks of it as a way to pass the time or forget. Maybe a bargaining chip, if needed. Something dirty, yet necessary. Or when Kiyoshi's memories come to him, something to fear, a punishment. Yet, when he feels particularly bad or down, he will take some man to bed and use them to forget. Some day he'll come to think of it as something good again, but it will take time.

7. What would your oc make a scene in public about? I don't think Al would ever make a scene in public, or even in private. Once upon a time, maybe, but now he is way too scared of the consequences of merely raising his voice. Even with his family - even his younger siblings - he stays calm, worryingly so, even when he would be justified to get a bit angry.

8. What would your oc give their life for? At this point, his life is the last of his worries, so he would give it for the most mundane thing. He really doesn't think he deserves to live. He would not actively attempt to his life, but he would use any reason to put himself in danger, save for getting in a situation where someone would hurt him voluntarily (like beat him or, God forbids!, strangle him). But anything else is fair game: jumping in front of a lorry to save a hedgehog, abusing medicines, driving while drunk, "forgetting" to eat for weeks, ...

9. What are your oc’s major flaws? His main major flaw is his self-destructiveness. Not only does it impact his health (both physical and mental), but also his relationship with his family and friends. If his family managed to keep some modicum of contact with him despite his attempts to cut himself totally from them, his friends were more or less left behind after the wedding (they still visit him regularly, but he acts as if they weren't even here most of the time).

10. What is your oc afraid of? Al is terrified of being loved in a romantic way. Familial love or friendship poses no problem, but the moment someone (read: Wolfie or Mal) suggests that they are in love with him, he freezes. For him, being loved this way is synonymous with being in danger. Kiyoshi used to tell him how much he loved him, how he was the love of his life, all the time, even when he was hurting him, or just after he hurt him. Regarding his two best friends, he knows that they would rather die than even think of raising their hand against him, but still, there’s this little voice that whispers (quite loudly) that they would hurt him, that their words are just a way to lure him in a sense of security before they destroy him. He knows it’s the trauma speaking, but still, he refuses Wolfie & Mal’s love because of the one in a gazillion chance that the voice is right.

11. Is your oc a daredevil, or more of a scaredy-cat? What is the most daring thing they’ve done in their life? Alfie never was a daredevil, but he wasn’t a scaredy-cat either. Nowadays, after what happened with Kiyoshi, he is in a perpetual state of anxiety and fear. As for the most daring thing he ever did… Probably some dangerous acrobatics when he was on the cheer team, in high school.

12. How much thought does your oc put into what they wear/look like? Any reason why? Al always liked to wear pretty clothes so he could feel pretty in turn. Not really a fashionista, but he’s still very into fashion. He has a very defined style and palette, very feminine and full of pink plus a little purple, though he will wear more practical/less flashy clothes around the farm. But since the wedding, he hasn’t been able to wear any long dresses, even if he used to be very fond of them. He's also an avid user of make-up, and just like clothes, he uses it to feel pretty, which, these days, he doesn’t think he is.

13. How easily does your oc trust others? Any particular reason why? How trustworthy are they themselves? Trust has become an issue since Kiyoshi. As I already said, he’s afraid of people claiming to love him romantically, and he doesn’t trust that they’re telling the truth when they do. He doesn’t even trust his own family when they say they love him or that they are worried for him, because he doesn’t believe he deserves any affection. As for new people, he distrusts them all so much that he won’t let them get too close to him, the only exceptions – if you can call it that, since he will play a role, project the image of someone in control, someone confident – are the few men he takes to bed the nights he feels the most down, the most noticeable one being his farm hand, Shawn. He, himself, became, if not completely untrustworthy, rather unreliable, and maybe a bit duplicitous.

14. What is your oc’s confidence like? Are they self-confident to the point of being arrogant? Are they terribly self-deprecating? Abysmal. He’s one of the most self-hating people you could meet. Which explains the self-destructive tendencies. Of course, he wasn’t always this self-deprecating, once again, it’s all Kiyoshi’s fault who kept – during his raging bouts – belittling him. But before, he was rather arrogant when it came to his intelligence – he is a genius, after all – or his athletics; even his looks were a source of pride at the time.

15. Is your oc expressive, or would they rather conceal their emotions? What are their typical expressions like? He’d like to be able to hide his emotions, but his face keeps betraying him and showing the torment raging inside him. His face is always sporting a sad, even desperate expression, with empty, nearly dead, eyes often lined by unshed tears, and a downturned mouth.

16. Is your oc a romantic, or are they grossed out by the simple mention of anything romantic? Though he’s scared of being romantically loved, he’s still a romantic (though he thinks he’s not). Sometimes, before the dread takes over, he longs for someone who would love him and cherish him, just like he dreamt of before. Before their relationship soured, he and Kiyoshi often went on romantic dates, or wrote each other sweet little notes that they would leave in the other’s pocket/schoolbag, or Kiyoshi would buy him flowers and he would gifts sweets to his boyfriend anytime he felt like it (which was often), and loved all of that.

17. How does your oc sleep? Do they move around a lot? What position does your oc normally sleep in? What are their typical bedding arrangements like? Despite the nightmares that plague him several times a week, he sleeps rather well, though it’s probably due to the amount of sleeping pills and other anxiolytics he takes (mixed with alcohol). He rarely sleeps less than ten hours, except when a rather gruesome nightmare wakes him up and he can’t fall back asleep (which is quite rare; most of the time, he falls back asleep, after a few minutes). He sleeps in a fetal position, usually on his left side, his knees almost to his chin as if trying to take the less room possible. His bed only has one pillow, and he burrows himself under his old, but still plump, duvet, only leaving to top of his head somewhat visible.

18. What five objects or things could be expected to be found on your oc’s person at any time? Why? His phone, some meds, a flask of vodka, a picture of his parents, and his engagement ring. The ring is the cause of many disputes with Agena and the twins (especially Cas) who don’t understand why he keeps wearing it after what happened; especially since he is so terrified of anything wedding-related. And, yes, he knows it does more hurt than anything, but he keeps it and wears it, so he remembers to never fall again for pretty promises. The meds and the vodka would also cause Agena to be concerned for her son, if she knew he had it on him (she’s not clueless enough to not know he abuses both, and she tries to help him stop, but to no avail).

19. Does your oc have any distinguishing markings? Scars, tattoos, birthmarks, freckles, etc? You know what? Let me put his diffuse map here, because he has so many scars that I couldn’t count them, also, it’s simpler to just show you.

20. What is your oc’s fight or flight response like? What sorts of things provoke it the most? Al neither flees nor fights, but he freezes when he finds himself in a scary or dangerous situation. Before, he was way more animated, and – depending on the situation – would either try to intervene and defuse the situation with words, or if he was in real danger, try to flee. He did try more than once at the start of the decline of his relationship with Kiyoshi: he would talk back, or simply leave the flat (the most notorious time being when he went to the club with Wolfie and ended up having sex with him). But after he and Kiyoshi got back together, his boyfriend would literally keep him locked up in a room so he wouldn’t leave and would slap him if he retorted. After a few months of this treatment, it was second nature to just let Kiyoshi do or say whatever he wanted and wait for him to calm down.

21. What was the worst injury your oc ever suffered? Has it had any long lasting impact on them? Al suffered so many injuries that it’s difficult to really say which is the worst, but bar from the massive concussion and crushed trachea he received at the wedding, it’s probably another that didn’t leave any visible scar. It happened during a particularly vicious fight – one during which Al, actually tried to defend himself, which he hadn’t done for about a year – one fight during which Kiyoshi, fuelled by his now ever-present jealousy, accused Al of cheating on him with Mal (which he never did; Kiyoshi, on the other hand was openly having an adulterous relationship with Hugo Villareal – who was completely oblivious of the fact that Kiyoshi already had a boyfriend). Kiyoshi, enraged by his jealousy and the fact that Al dared to raise his voice against him, threw him down the stairs. Al badly broke his pelvis, right leg, and left arm (coincidently, Agena is semi-paralyzed in the same leg, and Cédric – Al’s father – had lost the use of his left arm after an accident). Of course, as most of his injuries at the time, they were explained as accidents. His convalescence was long, and he never recuperated the complete use of his leg, two of his fingers were basically rendered useless due to nerve damage, and he suffers from chronic pain in his back (it's when he started to take pain medication – opioids – and discovered the numbing effect they had on his mind).

22. How violent is your oc? Or are they more of a pacifist? To what lengths will they go to start/avoid a conflict? It’s not that Al’s a pacifist, more than he is deadly scared of conflict since, for him, it means violence, either verbal or physical. So, as said earlier, he would never raise his voice against anyone, and he’ll let people say or do whatever pleases them to be sure not to cause conflict. If he’s a spectator to conflict between other people, he will stay just that: a spectator (still scared out of his mind that somehow, he would end up involved, or – if it is people he's close with – that someone he loves will end up hurt), incapable to do anything.

23. If your oc were to be arrested, what would it most likely be for? Is it justified? Have they actually been arrested before? Probably for being drunk in public (maybe even for driving under the influence) or for possession of drugs (though, he rarely uses “illegal” drugs, so the risk is limited here, contrary to his drinking habits). And yes, it would be justified because he’s drunk 24/7 these days. And no, he's never been arrested, which is quite a miracle knowing the number of times he drove while being totally pissed (not having any accident is another miracle), but at the same time he lives in a small town, and there aren’t a lot of cops around (which is a blessing with him being black and all; he has already enough problem without adding police violence to it).

24. How would your oc act when drunk? What about when really, really tired? As I just said in the previous question, Al is always drunk, so, he acts normally. Well, normally for him, at least. He’s a very quiet drunk, rather pessimistic (but even sober he is the very definition of the word “pessimism” so no changes here), maybe a bit more promiscuous than usual if he’s drunk on whisky instead of vodka (his go-to alcohol). Exhausted!Al is… he’s a mess. He tends to hallucinate when he’s sleep-deprived, and he's not seeing pink elephants, but Kiyoshi (what a surprise!), or even a doppelgänger of himself, husting him and/or his family and friends.

25. What would history remember your oc for? How would they become famous? Or are they the sort that would really only be appreciated long after their death? Of the four boys, Al is the less susceptible to becoming famous, or remembered by History. Or if he is, it’s only in connection with Mal or Wolfie (or more loosely Jeb), but even then, it’s only a line or two, and back to his boyfriends.

26. What are they like in the bedroom — well-rounded lover or wooden plank? Depends who he’s with, to be honest. At the start of his relationship with Kiyoshi (after the fumbling of the few first times), he was quite animated and active; he verged on being a power bottom on a lot of occasions, though he liked to be told what to do by his boyfriend. Once the relationship deteriorated, he became a wooden plank, waiting for it to be over (often mentally escaping), as he didn’t always consent (but didn’t openly refuse either – which is NOT CONSENT -, for if he tried to, Kiyoshi assumed it was because he was cheating on him). With other partners (read: one-night stands), he just takes what he needs at the moment to feel better: sometimes, he’ll need to be in total control, and sometimes he’ll need to be used. With Shawn, though he refuses to admit it, it’s also different. He’s more involved, and he takes better care of his farm hand’s needs; contrary to his one-night stands, he’ll exchange some kisses, and maybe use some generic terms of endearment.

27. Have they committed a crime before? Which one(s)? As said previously, he sometimes uses recreational drugs, and often drives while intoxicated, so yes. He also might have shoplifted some vodka bottles here and there.

28. Do they have any phobias? Marriage/weddings. Not only is he deadly afraid of getting married (he never will), but he’s also terrified of his friends or family getting married themselves.

29. What’s their favourite thing about their significant other, if they have one? At the moment he doesn’t have any (though Shawn would like to be it for him), but we know he’ll be with both Wolfie and Mal sooner or later, so… Mal: his (apparent) self-confidence, his protectiveness, his devotion to both him and Wolfie, his arms. Wolfie: the way he takes care of his loved ones, his creativity, his (rare) smile, his eyes.

30. Do/did they want children? He does want children. More precisely, he did want children, and he will want children. At the moment, he doesn’t feel like he would be a good parent (he’s right, he would be awful at it), with him being an alcoholic/addict. Later on, he would come to care for Joy, Mal’s daughter, like his own, but it’ll take time before he trusts himself with her (or for Mal to trust him with his daughter).

31. What’s their body count, if they have one? Assuming it’s not a murder-y one but a sexual one, I’d say about 20? 30? I don’t think he even knows the answer himself. After all, most men were in his life for only a few hours, and he wasn't always conscious enough to remember them.

32. How do they feel about drugs? Recreational: not really something he uses that often because they tend to make him more aware, or happy (which he doesn’t think he deserves to be/to feel), and what he wants is oblivion, numbness. Medicinal: he uses and abuses them. He likes the way they make him empty, numb, oblivious. 33. How difficult is it for your oc to get to sleep? Do they fall asleep the moment they hit the pillow, or do they have insomnia? Any reason why? Since he takes a massive amount of sleep pills, anxiolytics, and alcohol, before going to bed, he falls quickly asleep, but it’s an artificial sleep, nothing relaxing or rejuvenating.

34. Does your oc have siblings or family members in their age group? Are they close? Yes, his aunts, Marie (his father’s sister) and Tabitha (his mother’s half-sister). Marie is two years older than him, and Tabi is a few months younger. He’s close with both of them, but Tabi’s always been his best friend since they were very little.

35. Is your OC called any pet names? If not, if they *did* have one, what would it be? Do they have any pet names for someone else? Yes. Agena calls him “Baby”, and his paternal grandmother, Hortense, “Petal”. Mal’s the one who will give him the most pet names though, for he'll call him (among others, but those are the most frequent) “Sweetheart”, “Sweetie”, and “Honey Bee”.

36. Does your oc have dreams or nightmares? What are they like? Is there a recurring one? He has nightmares at least three times a week. Most of the time, they are memories of Kiyoshi and the abuse. Sometimes, it’s not him Kiyoshi hurts in them, but his family and friends. Rarely (but those are the worst, the ones which prevent him from falling back asleep), Al is the one abusing his loved ones.

37. How is your oc about medical care? Do they avoid any form of healthcare that they can, do they seek it out over every little scrape? Do they treat their injuries/illness all by themselves? Depends. Al sees a psychiatrist every week for his trauma and related mental conditions. It’s a (very) slow process, and to be honest, he doesn’t really try to get better, he just goes so he can continue to have pills (though he gets those by other – illegal – means too, because his monthly prescription would not last a week with the way he abuses his drugs). He also lies a lot to his therapist, especially about how much alcohol he actually drinks or the fact that he sometimes uses non-medicinal drugs. As for his physical health, he refuses to see anyone, mainly because he hates being touched (his family and friends learned to ask him before touching him in any way), but also because of his self-harm. He doesn’t want any medical professional seeing those; he’s scared that if they do, he’ll be locked in a psychiatric hospital against his will. If he needs painkillers (which he often does), he’ll buy over-the-counter ones, or get some from his dealer if he wants opioids. As for illnesses like cold or flu, he also deals with it himself, mainly by staying in bed with a vodka bottle or two on the night table.

38. Your oc has to make something for an art exhibition. What would they make? How terrible is it? Would they enjoy making it? Al is not the most artistic person ever, but he’s not that bad either, so it wouldn’t be terrible, but it would not revolutionize the art community either. As for what he would make, it would probably be some abstract painting representing the torment he feels inside, but people wouldn’t understand the real meaning of his piece, because he would use lots of bright colours/pastels. And he might find it somehow therapeutic, in a numbing way, so I guess he would enjoy doing it.

39. How would you describe your oc’s voice? Do they have an accent? Al never had a booming voice, but nowadays, his voice is barely louder than a whisper. Though he never knew his father and was raised by his English-speaking mother, he speaks with a faint French accent (his paternal family is originally from the French-speaking region of Windenburg).

40. What smells bring back specific memories to your oc? What are those memories like? Flowers remind him of the time he spent with his mother in their garden when he was a child, where Agena would teach him about nature, especially botany. But if flowers as a whole bring back good memories, the smell of roses put him in a state of terror, as the room he was in when Kiyoshi tried to kill him, the day of their wedding, was full of roses bouquets, and smelt like them.

41. Has your oc lost anyone close to them? How did/would they respond if so? His father, but since he wasn’t even born yet, I don’t think it counts. At this point in life, I think that if he lost his mom or one of his siblings, it would be the end of him, and he would take his own life.

42. Have they ever been abused? Do I really need to answer this?

43. When and who was your oc’s first kiss? Cassandra, during a game of “Spin the Bottle”, when they were fourteen, but he doesn’t count it. To him, his “real” first kiss, was with Kiyoshi, at age sixteen.

44. Would they ever purposefully hurt someone? Would they ever kill anybody? I mentioned more than once that Al is not violent in the least, and that he would do anything to avoid conflict/be in trouble. But there is one situation where he would actually hurt someone, or even kill them if it came to that: if someone was abusing one of his loved ones. I don’t think it would be purposeful, though. I believe the trauma would take over and he would completely disassociate and act without really meaning it; he’d watch himself going feral without being able to stop.

45. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)? He doesn’t get jealous. He never really was, but the small amount of jealousy he had was annihilated by Kiyoshi. From a few weeks after they got back together after the Wolfie incident, and up to their engagement, Kiyoshi was openly cheating on Al with Hugo. He would have Hugo come to their flat even if Al was present. The first time Al saw them together, he actually threw a fit (he caught them in flagrante on the sofa when he came back from class), but Kiyoshi told him he didn’t have any right to be jealous since he was the first to cheat (Hugo was later told that Al was just a jealous flatmate who had a thing for Kiyoshi and who he used to sleep with; don’t hate Hugo, he was a victim of Kiyoshi’s manipulations too). So, Al forced himself to bury any trace of jealousy he felt.

46. What are their thoughts on marriage? As said earlier, he is now terrified of anything marriage-related, but once upon a time (well, before Kiyoshi tried to kill him), he dreamt of getting married. Since he was small, he always wanted a big wedding, and to wear a pretty dress. Nowadays, he’s convinced that any wedding he is involved in one way or another is bound to end in tragedy, based on the fact that he nearly died at his, and that his father actually died during the reception following his wedding to Agena (while she was pregnant with Alfie – but didn’t know it yet); which, obviously, is bullshit, but it’s what he believes, anyway (Agena, thinks it’s her dress that is cursed, which… who knows?).

47. Are they happy with their body? He really doesn’t have any opinion on the subject. For him, his body is just a vessel. Once upon a time, he took great care of it, but now it’s just here. He still wants it to be pretty (he doesn’t think it is), but as for many things, he’s just numb to it.

48. Who loves them with all their heart and soul? How does their love make them feel? His family, and Mal & Wolfie. For his family, even if he doesn’t feel like he deserves it, he’s quite grateful for the way they take care of him, and how they sometimes shield him from the world or defend him. As for Mal and Wolfie… as previously mentioned, he’s terrified of romantic love, so it scares the hell out of him. But later on, once he gets a bit better, and accepts to be in a relationship with them, being loved by them is the best thing in the world, though overwhelming (and yes, still terrifying sometimes).

49. Who is their most important person? His mom. Al’s always been a mama’s boy (though, he’s not really a “boy”), and thinking of not having her anymore is the worst feeling in the world.

50. Who is the person they hate the most? Why? I’d like to say that it’s Kiyoshi, which would be self-explanatory, but it’s actually himself, for way too many reasons, the main one being his supposed weakness that “allowed” Kiyoshi to abuse him for years (he’s not, anyone could fall victim to an abuser, there is nothing to do with weakness).

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Wow, that was a lot. Now, I "only" need to finish Jeb's, Mal's, and Wolfie's... (please kill me).

#ts4 #the sims 4 #ts4 render #render #oc: alfie dubois #extra: all that we are and will never be #tw: self harm #tw: domestic violence #tw: abuse #tw: meds abuse #tw: violence #tw: alcoholism #tw: attempted murder #tw: implied mention of rape #imu if any triggering stuff is not tagged and i'll add it

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orangerosebush · 1 year

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CW DISCUSSION OF ABUSE

I am trying to find papers on the subject of fathers who consume (knowingly or unknowingly) their children in myth. Although writing on mothers who consume their children has already explored the monstrous inversion of birth/pregnancy present in those stories, there's certainly an analogous tenor to stories that instead feature fathers with murderous appetites, and I want to see what has been written on that note. Parental cannibalism in these stories is particularly interesting to me as a way of exploring certain kinds of abuse (e.g., sexual), as the violence of these acts is symbolically so close to incestuous abuse. To elaborate on why I see there being a connection, I return to why cannibalism in myth within families is a kind of double cannibalism. Parental cannibalism is cannibalism, of course, in the sense that one is eating a member of one's community, of one's community. Yet the act is cannibalism in another sense: in the sense that the cannibalism is occurring within a family unit (i.e., not just transgressing the boundary of eating someone of the same species, but of the same species and bloodlines). Furthermore, just as the comestible line we must not cross is drawn at the boundary of species, so too is the line drawn sexually transgressed in the context of incestuous abuse.

#from the catalog of cruelties by donika kelly reminded me of this #tantalus atreus cronos etc and paternal cannibalism #incest cw #abuse cw #ask to tag #reading tragedies is really just begging for someone to tell you what happened to make it so certain parts of your past are inarticulable #not wholly related by the transformation of daphne into a laurel tree as a kind of symbolic reflowering after apollo's attempt to attack #her sexually -- which is followed by him claiming the laurel as one of his plants :(#from the charles martin translation of metamorphoses :#'although you cannot be my bride he says/ you will assuredly be my own tree/O laurel and will always find yourself/ girding my locks my lyr #lyre and my quiver too'#rape cw #OH and ambiguously implied w/ count ugolino w/ his sons in dante's inferno

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lostusagis · 5 months

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@redlips-blooddrops-deux asked: 🐣 "...please tell me you did not kidnap the little one. Hmm, who child is it?"

Send 🐣 to catch my muse caring for a child

He was completely covered in blood, looking like he came out of a murder scene. Hands drenched in red, shirt completely stained with crimson, and his face hadn't been spared from being splattered with some of the metallic substance either. But what made it even more bizarre was how he was holding a little girl's hand at the same time, she was calm too. She wasn't at all afraid of Kamui. In fact, she held onto his hand tightly, and clutched onto his shirt when seeing Lilith. It was as if she was afraid.

''Lilith umm...'' Kamui awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, avoiding the woman's gaze. He hadn't expected to be caught with the girl by anyone he knew. He swallows thickly, contemplating what to say.

''I didn't kidnap her.... I'm not interested in kidnapping anyone. I'm not that type of person.'' Kamui said honestly. He usually didn't lie to Lilith, and didn't really see a point in lying now.

He'd decide to look at Lilith, pouting somewhat. ''She.... was being chased. A group of men were trying to kill her.''

While Kamui talked about what happened, the girl clutched onto his shirt tighter, looking down. ''Mister Kamui...?'' The girl sniffled when calling for his attention,

Kamui looked down at her smiling, ''What's wrong Rei?''

''They.... they weren't trying to kill me... it was... something else...'' Her grip on his hand was really, really tight, she was trembling. It took a few seconds, but when it clicked in his head what Rei meant Kamui's eyes widened. He'd crouch down to her height.

''Don't worry, I made them all go away forever. They won't ever be around to hurt you or anyone else again, okay?'' Kamui reassures, and Rei immediately hugged him tightly. She was trembling and crying, Kamui was surprised and hesitantly hugged back.

''You're safe now, don't worry.'' Kamui made sure to reassure her again. Rei didn't part from his arms for a bit, but when she did she'd sniffle, wiping her eyes to look at him.

''W...When you help me find mommy, could I still see you again? I feel safe around you. I also think you're really nice.'' Rei asked with pleading eyes.

The irony of her feeling safe around a guy who had fun killing people was so hilarious, but Kamui wasn't sure what to say to her. For one, her mother might think there was something wrong with him the minute she saw him covered in blood. He DID protect her daughter, but a lot of people on earth were kind of stupid and unreasonable.

''.....Sure.'' Kamui smiles gently at her, ''It depends on what your mom says though, but.... if you're ever in trouble....'' He dug inside his pocket for something. Eventually he took out a card that had his number on it.

Why he had a card with his number on it? Well, that wasn't important.

''That's my number, so even if your mom doesn't like me you can still call me and I'll come no matter what I'm doing to help you. Okay?'' Kamui pats the girl on the head.

Rei looks at the card, and sighs with relief. She smiles eventually too,

''Thank you mister Kamui. Really glad I met you.''

Seeing Rei happy like that, it made him happy. He wouldn't openly admit it to anyone, but whenever he interacted with young girls that were Rei's age, he'd think about when Kagura was that age. When he was around that age too. When things were different. When Kamui would protect his sister....

It made him want to protect every young girl he met if he could. He couldn't ever kill a child. They still had innocence. Innocence he lost a long time ago.

''Really glad I met you too Rei. Hopefully we'll find your mom soon and without problem.'' Rei hugged Kamui again, and when the hug broke, he'd stand up. Kamui forgot Lilith was there, and when he'd be met with her gaze again his face becomes really red.

''......Just..... Just let me find her mother and I'll come back and do whatever you need me to do, alright?'' He'd annoyingly grumble, he was super embarrassed right now.

Rei had grabbed Kamui's hand tightly again, and looked up at him and Lilith. ''Is she your girlfriend?''

The question caught him off guard he nearly broke his neck looking back down at her so fast. ''Huh?''

''Is the lady in front of us, your girlfriend?'' Rei says again, blinking at him innocently and curiously.

Kamui wasn't sure what label his relationship with Lilith had. ''I.... she's.... She's my boss. Among..... other things. If we still know each other by the time you're an adult, maybe I'll explain the situation to you.'' He'd laugh.

''What do you mean?'' Rei asks, tilting her head confused.

''Don't worry about it.'' Kamui says, not wanting to say anything weird to her. ''Just worry about us finding your mom so you can be safe at home.''

''Okay.'' Rei was still curious and looked at Lilith, she kept trying to figure out what Kamui meant but couldn't piece anything together given how young she was.

''Also, one more thing mister Kamui.'' Rei says, looking back up at him.

''What is it?'' Kamui says with a smile.

''Can you teach me how to do that thing you did to those guys?'' She'd ask him. ''So I don't have to always call you to help me?''

Kamui quirked a brow, ''You mean when I.... put my hand through their chest and killed them instantly?''

Rei nodded and looked really excited.

''If your mom lets us be friends, maybe I'll teach you next time we see each other.'' He offered, not seeing anything remotely wrong with it.

''Yay! You're so awesome and strong! I want to be like you when I grow up!'' Rei says jumping up and down excitedly. She looked so happy.

Kamui wondered how she'd react if she knew the kind of person he really was.

#IC. Kamui #redlips blooddrops deux #implied attempted rape tw #( everything is fine :^) hahaha )

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aftgficrec · 3 months

Note

It open!

Is there any new Nicky and or/twinyard centred fics or any Kevin wymack bonding ones?

Or wymack parenting the other foxes?

Thank you in Advance

There is a lot here, so we split this up. You can find fics about Nicky and the twinyards here, both canon compliant (or at least adjacent) and AUs. Find Kevin & Wymack bonding here and Wymack parenting the Foxes here. - S

Previous recs:

Nicky with both or one twin here - see the extensive list on previous recs in this post

Nicky parenting the twins here

new twinyards bonding here - also features many previous recs

Nicky & depression here

Nicky-centric fics here

big brother Nicky here

bad days-andreil & nerik here

angst w/comfort for andreil and nerik here

Nicky after thanksgiving here

Nicky in germany 2 here

long distance soft nerik here

‘AFTG/TFC minifics… ch 84’ here

‘Afterthoughts ch 90’ here

‘A two-man team’, ‘Something Good’, ‘Love is Patient, Love is Kind’ here

‘It’s a love story, baby’ here

Nicky-centric:

All We Got Was Bruised by Rose_vine [Rated M, 48214 words, complete, 2024]

They sent people to Camp Full Point to change them. Nicky was a boy made of secrets and lies, and he had broken a long time ago. Camp Full Point might just be the thing that kills him. Or, Nicky's parents send him to Conversion Camp. This is that story.

tw: violence, tw: blood, tw: conversion therapy, tw: electroconvulsive therapy, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: religious guilt, tw: implied/referenced homophobia, tw: internalized homophobia, tw: restricted eating

Struggling in Silence by Ciara_Westford [Rated M, 34487 words, incomplete, last updated July 2024]

Nicky has been struggling with his mental health for a while. He tries to hide it from the others, but after a more or less public meltdown, he can't hide it any longer. The other foxes, as well as Wymack, Abby and Betsy want to help him, but Nicky doesn't know how to accept help from others.

tw: depression, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: conversion therapy, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: nightmares, tw: vomit, tw: implied/referenced self harm

Holy and free by sapphosgaycousin [Rated M, 2871 words, complete, 2024]

„Will you come to mass with us for Easter?“ That’s how it all started to go south. When Erik’s mother had asked him to attend church with them on Easter Sunday, Nicky had said yes without thinking twice. What bad could happen, right?

tw: ptsd, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: religious trauma, tw: vomit

Nicky is the sun that shines even through the clouds series by ThePureMonster [Rated E/G, 21452 words, 2 complete works, 2024]

Part 1: We'll pray for you, honey (E, 15038 words)

"Homosexuality is a sin. Homosexuals are doomed to burn in hell forever, if they want to change, they can be healed. By rejecting temptation, they will become normal again. They must try and make more efforts if it doesn't work." That's what Nicky had been hearing all his life. And he really tried his best until one day he stopped. Nicky's difficult path to himself.

tw: violence, tw: child abuse, tw: rape/noncon, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: homophobia, tw: conversion therapy, tw: depression, tw: religious trauma

Part 2: We love you, Nicky (G, 6414 words)

Five times when the Foxes learn a little more about Nicky's terrible past. And one time Nicky feels confident enough to open his heart and tell them the truth.

tw: panic attacks, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

Du bist der Einzige für mich by Anonymous [Rated G, 772 words, complete, 2024]

Nicky gets jealous, Erik reassures him.

A little crush turned into a like by HereBeChickens [Rated T, 3814 words, complete, Aftg Mixtape Exchange 2024]

In the end, it’s his German teacher that works everything out. Or, Nicky's year in Germany with his host brother that he totally does not have a crush on and his feelings that he totally has under control.

tw: implied/referenced homophobia, tw: implied/referenced conversion therapy, tw: implied/referenced suicidal thoughts

I'm never gonna not dance again by Acetober (allfortheBoyds) [Rated T, 7023 words, complete, 2023]

Pole dancing, as it turns out, is fucking hard. Even the simplest swing requires a type of body control Nicky doesn‘t think he‘ll ever be able to possess. He tries anyway and with a few tries and tips from Dan he manages a decent performance. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Kevin - looking as grumpy as ever - strap into a pair of hot pink heels. He wobbles around like an oversized newborn fawn. or 5 times Nicky danced in front of other people +1 time he danced only for himself (and Erik)

Twinyards-focussed:

Come across the universe between you and I by bInTheMoon [Rated M, 4258 words, complete, 2024]

“Aaron! Wake!” “Hey,” Aaron answered his twin, who was crouched at his side and staring at him. “I bought ice cream, it’s on the bag.” “What the fuck, Aaron!” Andrew hissed, his cold eyes not leaving him for a second. “What happened?” “Accident.” ---- Or: Only they would need an accident to take another step to healing.

tw: car accidents, tw: injuries

I‘d die to be somebody you could love by moonlightboyz [Rated M, 39860 words, incomplete, last updated June 2024]

"For a medicine student you're really dense sometimes." It was quiet for a while before Andrew spoke up again. "I don't know, how to be your brother, Aaron. Not the one you want, but I'm trying." "And I'm trying too." OR This fanfic explores Aaron Minyard’s complicated feelings regarding Andrew Minyard and how he learns how to love and be loved by his brother.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: drug abuse, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: panic attacks, tw: disordered eating, tw: self harm, tw: negative self image

Don’t go where I can’t follow by moonlightboyz [Rated M, 8579 words, complete, 2024]

Andrew held out his hand between them and Aaron intertwined their pinkies. “I promise to never leave your side.” He muttered. “I promise to protect you and never leave your side.” Andrew echoed. OR an AU where Nicky kills Tilda and Drake and the twins live with a foster parent while they wait for Nicky to be released from prison and everything else that happens while they wait.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced drug addiction, tw: implied/referenced murder

Slings and Arrows by This_Witch_Writes [Rated T, 5935 words, complete, 2022, locked]

Andrew Minyard had spent quite a lot of his admittedly short life wanting to die. It wasn’t really a secret though he didn’t talk about it. The evidence was right there on his arms, in every cigarette, in the way he stood between those he’d chosen to protect and a world that wouldn’t hesitate to leave Andrew in a cold ditch. So he was a little surprised that now that he was going to die he was so pissed off about it. His only thought as the gunshot rang in his ears was a pathetic ‘this isn’t supposed to happen’ like life had ever cared what he thought. - As he faces down what could be the end, Andrew considers his complicated relationship with his own survival.

tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: past suicide attempt, tw: gun violence

Nicky & the twinyards:

Mom by high_lady_kate [Rated M, 1941 words, incomplete, last updated April 2024]

"“Are you sure about this?” Nicky wanted to shout no! and then several insults regarding Tilda Minyard. Instead he grinned at Erik and finished zipping his suitcase." Or: Nicky Hemmick is 19 when he gets custody of the Minyard Twins.

Eat Your Young by Rose_vine [Rated M, 1947 words, complete, 2024]

Any hopeful feelings vanished the second he sat down on the medical chair in the doctor’s office. There weren’t any straps on it, but Nicky felt like he was constricted anyway. He remembered viscerally the sensation of thrashing without being allowed to move, the buckles that had wrapped around his arms, legs, and chest. The bite guard they’d shoved in his mouth, tasting like vomit. “Nicky,” Andrew said. Nicky looked up with wild eyes. “I can’t,” he gasped.

tw: ptsd, tw: anxiety

The secrets we keep by DrowningStrawberry [Rated T, 5067 words, complete, 2024]

Andrew never kills Tilda, he never had too. A certain cousin had gotten there first. or Nicky Hemmick has a murder problem.

tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: implied/referenced conversion therapy, tw: implied/referenced abuse

And I Fall by DrowningStrawberry [Rated M, 3193 words, complete, 2024]

“Maybe Eric is glad you stayed away longer because he doesn't want to have to see you.” And on and on and on in a rotation in his mind. Before he realizes he is moving, he's grabbed a knife and locked himself in the bathroom. Or Nicky's depression gets the best of him.

tw: depression, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: suicide attempt

Nicky thinks the twins don’t love him by @hmmm-shesucks [tumblr, 2023]

Nicky thinks the twins don’t love him, but then they both get ejected from a game for beating the shit out of a guy who illegally hits Nicky hard enough Nicky breaks his wrist.

Nicky & Andrew by @bisexualchaosdemon [tumblr, 2024]

I think Nicky does piss Andrew off, but not because he's loud and dramatic; because he cares.

Art

Twinyards by @eeriethacus

twinyards by @art-foxx

Happy Birthday to the Minyard twins by @midgart

I dont smoke by Mitski and the Minyard brothers by @eeriethacus

Nicky after taking this picture: 🏃🏃🏃 by @prince-peachie

A little candy by @neroholik

Nicky Hemmick by @neroholik

I heard someone had a birthday some days ago😏 by @yarn_garn (Twitter)

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karmaphone · 2 years

Text

the 2013 riddick movie was by far the worst, if just for the revolting nastiness they did to the lesbian

#ask to tag #(for the tags)#literally fucking nasty #the unnecessary nudity. the attempted rape. the constant references to fucking her. the implied sex. fucking nasty #literally made me GAG in some parts that's how gross it was #at least the other two movies had more than one female character #like. this movie was just BAD I wish we stopped after the second movie :(#the plot doesn't even make sense #I will not forgive them for putting so much effort into getting the audience attached to a dog that they kill either #and you're telling me the man described repeatedly as an animal got ''''civilized'''' even with so many assassins around..........k bye #'wuh I gotta find that animal part of me again'#and like. the dislocation thing. one of his first scenes in the first movie was him dislocating both shoulder simultaneously without a sweat #without even changing his facial expression #but yea sure the dislocated knee getting put back into place is debilitating. even I can do that and walk. incon-fucking-sistent

0 notes

protectthevulnerable · 2 years

Text

@storyofwhoiam

“Fuck!” Debbie cursed under her breath , trying not to draw attention to the scene in front of her as she near silently sobbed. She paced before kneeling down, grasping at her unconscious father’s bleeding head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t-” She had meant to, she couldn’t lie about that. He deserved it. He had hurt her mum and she just couldn’t stand it anymore. She’d spent nineteen years watching and listening to him hurt Bea and she had to stop it. For good. Only she wasn’t sure if he was dead and she could get herself to finish the job.

Her eyes widened when she heard her mum calling for her and she ran to the back door when she saw it opening. “Don’t come out! I-I..” she yelled back, slamming the door shut, putting as much of her weight into it as she tried to find an explanation. “Just- just stay inside, please! I’m fine!”

Despite her attempts to keep the door shut, her mum was stronger than her and she was too shaky to properly hold it shut anyway. Her sobs grew more audible and she doubled over, sobbing into her hand. “I saw what he did!” she forced out through her anger and fear. “I couldn’t let him-” She didn’t want to say the words. It was disgusting and horrifying and it made her so angry.

#storyofwhoiam.#closed starters.#asks.#muse: debbie/devon s.#character: bea s.#verse: role reversal #implied rape tw #implied abuse tw #attempted murder tw

0 notes

mamayan · 11 months

Text

🎃 Happy Halloween 🎃

Shigaraki Tomura x Fem! Reader

Good girls should just stay home, lest something goes bump in the night.

cw: NSFW • Implied Murder • Implied Serial Killer • Consensual Non-Consent turned Non-Consensual • Noncon • Dubcon • Abuse • Fingering (F) • Oral (M) • Deep Throating • Rough Sex • Attempted Murder • Hair Pulling • Degradation/Slight Humiliation • Dacryphilia • Yandere Themes • Kidnapping • a little OOC • This story possessed me and basically wrote itself • Barely proof read tbh

wc: 7k+

Something must be wrong with you.

Or at least, that’s what you imagine the world would think if anyone knew what you were doing.

The room was dark aside from the blue glow of your computer screen. The black web browser with red lettering almost ominous as your eyes scanned the consent form again. It was a consent form just to access the full website, on the surface serving only as a dating type of situation for the BDSM community. Beneath it though were layers deeper than what the simple description actually provided. You only found out about it through a deep dive into multiple sub-threads of Reddit. It was a basket case of crazy, the majority of information or advice, but you managed to dig up one reliable looking source.

This website you were currently on. L@ce&R0pe.com happened to provide a wide variety of goodies, from sex toys to actual published books on shibari, there wasn’t much you couldn’t find. Except like all websites not swallowed up by the deep web, there was never any section like the one you wanted so desperately.

Except this one, because your mouse didn’t hesitate to shift and hover over the drop down section for MEET, where you could link up with real people for whatever your heart desired really. You trailed down to NEW FRIEND, and clicked. A new tab opened, this one themed differently than the main website. It was light blue and pink, almost like a baby shower, except the only thing on the page was a single drop down menu, and clicking it made your head ache. There were thousands of options, but thankfully it was organized alphabetically, so you could easily scroll mindlessly until you hit the C section.

You found what you wanted, clicking it as your chosen option and hitting GO.

The screen changed, this time it looked similar to a dating profile fillable. You worked quickly, efficiently even, as you typed all your information in.

Not your name or address, nothing silly like that. Just your measurements, your favorite foods or beverages, the color of your eyes, your hair color, your height, and even the style of your nails. It asked if you liked to brush your hair everyday, how often you showered, what shampoo or body wash you like. You answered them all, as invasive as they soon became, you never wavered. What brand of deodorant do you use? How often do you clip or file your nails? To what length? Do you shave your pubic area? How often? What style? How many sexual partners have you had? Where have you had sex? Which hole do you prefer? Are you a crier or a screamer? Does blood turn you on? Do you like physical or mental pain more? Have you ever been raped before?

They got more personal and physiological as you answered. You felt hot and stuffy despite the window being open and the cool autumn air blowing in. You kept answering even as your throat got tighter and unease nestled into your clavicle.

Do you want to know who your new friend will be?

This time you do hesitate. Knowing would make it feel safer. Knowing would give you some semblance of control. Knowing would be the smart choice.

You clicked “no” and submitted the form, sealing your fate as your hands shook and adrenaline pumped through your veins.

You set the date for October 31st. Now all you had to do was wait and show up.

A notification hit his phone, lighting up the screen as cigarette smoke billowed around him in the back alley. A quick glance was all he needed to unlock and fully see the entire screen. The leather of his jacket rubbed against the brick he leaned against.

Halloween was probably the best time for such fun, crime rates skyrocketing and parties being loud and wild really left a big gaping hole for any type of heinous activity to occur. He grinned as the information poured onto his screen. His dick already becoming painfully hard as he read all your supplied information. You liked breath play, having someone spit in your mouth, even being slapped around. He was always amazed by the lack of shortage for sick freaks like you, but then again, he was one of them too. Licking his top lip, tongue piercing flicking out to rub against his cupid’s bow, he clicked “ACCEPT” on the notification. He had all your information, the when and where, and your adorable little comment of “Please don’t degrade me.” What more could he ask for? His smile is sinister in the low light off the neon sign of the bar, casting a purplish hue on his skin as he chuckles and shoves his phone away. Flicking his cigarette butt onto the dirty ground, he cracked his neck and knuckles before going back inside to finish his beer and round of pool with his friends.

He’ll see you on Halloween. He might even dress up a little for the occasion.

It’s cold.

It’s nearly November so you hadn’t expected warm weather necessarily, but it seemed chillier than usual despite your fairly insulated dress.

You dressed up as an angel, the irony not lost on you at all but it felt fitting almost for the occasion. The pristine white looked off in your surroundings. It was nearly midnight, but despite that the sidewalk of the park was filled with a fairly regular crowd of people passing through, on to the next party or home to sleep off all the alcohol. Really, you weren’t too out of place, in your white stockings and black heeled boots, the fluffy ruffled white babydoll dress that barely covered your ass or tits and the wings which were strapped around your shoulders and jutted out behind you. On your head was a slim clip which was attached to a white shiny halo that seemed to float above you, only a thin wire keeping it up. You’d at first felt a little exposed passing children going home for the night after trick or treating, eyes of judgemental families which you ignored boring into you, but now it was time for the adults to have fun. You’d already passed a plethora of college students or older dressed even more scantily than you, making you feel better, safer, out in the park you’d chosen. You’d chosen 0300 as your designated meetup time, but specified you’d be early in case they wanted to start sooner. So here you stood, under a streetlamp that illuminated you in a yellow glow, making you seem even more angelic despite the ominous darkness surrounding you. You were busy playing on your phone, scrolling mindlessly and trying not to appear too excited. Or scared. You figured it was a combination of both, the arousal and fear bleeding into one very specific but unnamed emotion. Tapping your boot to a rhythm only you could hear, the night drew on and another hour passed. The droves of people passing didn’t dwindle, but it was always a group, never a single individual which you hoped was your new friend. It was almost 0130 when you felt watched, goosebumps rising on your skin as you realized someone must be looking at you. A quick glance around showed no one though, and after ten minutes your hope dissolved into disappointment. It seemed your friend wasn’t an early bird.

“Hey,” a raspy, deep voice speaking almost directly into your ear, startling you enough to elicit a yelp. You turned, eyes landing on a dark clothed chest and trailing up to a hooded face you could barely make out through a mess of blue hair. His lips look a bit chapped, a small scar decorating a corner, but his teeth are white and straight as he smiles a grin that causes shivers to shoot down your spine.

…maybe your friend was an early bird, just not as much as you.

You take a step back, stuttering stupidly due to your overactive nerves and the earlier shock of his sudden appearance. “H-hi…um,” the stranger tilts his head, eyes still not visible, dark hoodie baggy on his frame. He looks a bit thin, like he wouldn’t have a lot of strength, his jeans having some strange splattering of fake blood or something on them. You lick your lips, heart ready to leap from your chest but not quite ready for the events to unfold.

Or maybe you were very ready.

“You’ve been standing here for hours,” he comments nonchalantly, hands moving to shove inside the large inner pocket on his hoodie, “Aren’t ya tired of waiting for your boyfriend?” His question is a bit confusing, and when you glance around you, it dawns that there’s no one out right now. When had the crowds dwindled to nothing? “I don’t… have a boyfriend…” you had clearly stated that online too, so he already knew the answer to your relationship status. Was he just teasing? Keeping this as realistic as possible? It made you a bit pleased. You fiddled with the ends of your cute frilly dress, exposing a small portion of your skin and garter belt which kept your thigh high socks up. His eyes tracked the motion, lips pulling up even higher making his smile menacing. Dangerous. “That so?” He asks, but it doesn’t seem like he’s too interested in a reply as he steps closer, his beat up sneakers so silent on the ground it’s a little unnerving. Since he’s playing along so much, it feels wrong for you to not reciprocate.

“What do you think you’re doing, creep? Stay back,” You hope he’s not offended by the name, figuring it wasn’t too mean or odd of a thing to call him. Your firm stance and defiant gaze make him pause, head tilting again but he’s quick to recover and laugh. It’s less of a sexy and deep chuckle like you expected, and more pitched and giggly. It’s almost creepy to hear from a grown man. Like a child from a horror movie laughing. “Creep? Yeah? Guess I am, but you know what?” His head lifts, and since he’s more centered under the tall street lamp, when he looks straight at you, two red eyes flash. “I’m a lot fucking worse than your average dumbass creep,” you jolt when he lunges at you, hand outstretched to grab you. It’s instinctive how quickly you turn and run, adrenaline helping you shoot off into the park where no light but the moon shined down. This is what you wanted, you chant to yourself to stay level headed enough to not truly panic. This was staged and as safe as possible. He’s not actually going to hurt you. You’d be fine, albeit maybe a little sore tomorrow morning. You shut your mind off and focus on running, though your speed wasn’t great in such cheap and unstable boots, roots and random objects on the ground constantly tripping you up.

You looked like the dumb girl in the horror movies, tits practically out of your low cut revealing white dress, strapless white bra damn useless and more for show than any real support or push-up. You huffed, digging in your heels when you heard a few twigs snap behind you, feet carrying you faster as you realized he was gaining on you quickly. He didn’t shout and you didn’t scream. The chase was exhilarating, your mind becoming fuzzy as your lungs burned for more oxygen. You hadn’t planned a chase, really leaving it all up to fate and your new friend, but this was perfect.

Until fingers tangled tight in your hair and yanked you completely off your feet, your shoes and legs going out in front of you as you landed gracelessly on your ass. Then an intense burning in your scalp erupts, a hiss of pain and a whine escaping as you slide over cool damp foliage, senseless grumbling coming from the stranger as he drags you into a deeper more secluded section of the park, away from any and all prying eyes. Not like anyone gave a damn. “I-it hurts!” You feel childish for crying, tears pricking your eyes but the burn was worse than you imagined truly, soft hands coming up to try and pry his fingers off.

He has a grip of iron apparently, not the least bit phased as he sighs, hauling you up and tossing you in front of him. You land weirdly on your left shoulder, a shock of pain numbing your mind as you heave for air and roll over. When you open your eyes, you’re face to face with him. His hood pulled off, shoulder length blue hair now tied back and up into a little bun while some stray pieces frame his face and forehead. Your eyes adjust to the darkness as they take him in.

He’s young, maybe early twenties, with pale skin and dark bags hugging beneath his scarlet eyes. He’s got a beauty mark just below his lip on the right side, the scar you saw earlier on the other. He’s not hard on the eyes, cute even, but the strange air around him makes the close proximity fill you with anxiety. His eyebrows are thin and sparse, but he cocks one with a smirk. “Not gonna scream for help, crybaby?” The nickname makes you realize tears are streaming down your cheeks, you blink them away quickly, shaking your head and trying to find your words again. “I—uh, do you want me to?” Wouldn't screaming just make it more likely for someone to call the police? You figured a little noise was fine, but screaming seemed counter productive.

His eyes widened a bit, confusion painting his features as he crouched down more comfortably on his haunches to get a better look at you.

He’d been watching you since you got to the park. A single party in this sort of place always sticks out like a sore thumb. You looked more ready for a porno than a costume party, from behind the view of your ass indescribably arousing in your short little dress. It was both a slutty and innocent look you pulled off well, at least enough to make him riled up, cock twitching in agreement within his pants. He shamelessly rubbed it through his jeans, caressing the hardening length and letting you watch with glee. Your face made him snort, amusement evident as he chuckles and squints. “You like this, little freak?” You looked like you did, he notes. Your wide pretty eyes, still a little teary and red at the ends, showed your blown out pupils. You looked to be more star struck, not terrified like any normal girl chased through a park and dragged into a little corner between some trees to be out of sight. He watches you swallow hard, lips parting before closing as if you aren’t sure what to say to that question. “Fuck, you’re cute,” he grins, “a cute little slut who stood out at night all alone as if begging for someone to come along and do something nasty.” You release a tiny yelp as he meanly shoves you back, straddling your upper chest with his thighs as he hunches over you, looming ominously above with wild eyes screaming for chaos. “Good thing that I came along, huh? Make all your nasty little fantasies come true.” He watches you gasp as he presses his fingers against your lips, confusion evident on your face but you aren’t really putting up much of a fight as you open and let him slide two in. “Nasty fucking girl, look at you, when you don’t even fucking know me.” He chuckles, and while he’s teasing you mostly, he is amazed. You looked erotic as hell right now, little angel costume all wrinkled and a bit dirty from the earth below, pretty face a bit stained with mascara that had run a little from your earlier tears. You weren’t wearing the waterproof kind it seemed. Lips bitten and chewed on, plump and glossy from whatever glittery shit you swiped on them earlier now wrapped around his digits as he dug around in your warm wet mouth. “Suck on them, slut,” he orders, his smile dropping and face becoming more serious as you hurry to obey, a strange trepidation building in your gut. He groans as he feels your tongue wiggle and swirl, pumping his fingers a bit now and enjoying the little bleats you release when he chokes you a bit with them. “Wonder if you’re soaked down here~” he hums, leaning back a bit and yanking his fingers from your lips, wiping the excess saliva across your cheek and huffing a laugh as your features wrinkle in distaste. His hand moves behind him, easy access to your cunt due to the frilly dress hiked up almost around your waist, revealing cute soaked white cotton panties he growls at the sight of. “You really suck at putting up a fight, crybaby, but I think I heard somewhere that girls get wet when scared too…” those red eyes flick back to your own, "You scared?” He asks, almost softly. He watches you breathe, chest struggling a bit under his weight but your hands curled into the fabric of his hoodie, not pushing him away. “A little…?” Is your shaky response, and he wonders silently if you’re an idiot or just a pervert. You might be both, because when he lets his thumb dig into where your pussy lay poorly hidden, you moan for him and spread your legs wider. You make it even easier to search for his desired location, your swollen bundle of nerves. “O-oh—!” Your head falls back, little halo becoming a bit misshapen as it gets flattened to the ground, he tsks, fixing it with his free hand as he thumbs your little clit and watches you mewl and writhe beneath him, pleasure clearly visible on your face. Your hips buck and wiggle, body pinned beneath his and unable to get away or closer like you desperately want for more friction than he’s providing. “P-please,” you can’t help but beg, hoping your new friend is merciful enough to make you cum and not simply edge you all night.

It’s the pouty expression which makes him nearly feral, his grin spreading wide again as he keeps working his finger on your clit but his face closes the distance between your own. His lips just barely graze yours, and you are all too happy to part your lips and give him a sloppy kiss back, his own tongue finally slipping into your mouth where you suck. The smooth muscle in your mouth and the saliva dripping from it drive you wild, hands now dragging him closer and trying to make him do more for you. The heat spreads slowly however, his pace not changing, and despite his slim build he’s much stronger than you. You aren’t able to take any more than what is given, huffing in exasperation and groaning when he places more force before easing off. “S-stop teasing…” you whine against his lips, which were much softer than they look. He smirks, airy chuckle felt more than heard as he shakes with a silent laugh, “how can I not, you’re such a rare find, I plan to take my time with you.” He kisses you hard to silence whatever whines you planned to release to make him give you more. Instead he forces you into a slow building orgasm that leaves him having to pin your wrists above your head lest your clawing rip his skin open. He works you gently and cruelly into it, loving how you gasp and choke for him, eyes rolling back while you shake almost like you’re possessed and soak through your panties. “There you go, heh, normally I wouldn’t bother to take my time with whiny bitches, but you’re more obedient and sweet than I first assumed.” He whispers into your ear as you come down from the mind blowing high, body limp and pliant like dough now. The insult from him brings out a little whine of protest, teary eyes looking at him with almost something akin to betrayal.

“I-I don’t like being called mean names…I said so online too,” he pulls up finally, the chill of the night attacking full force on your now exposed cunt as he brings your panties up to his nose to inhale. His eyes narrow, almost into slits as he pulls them back and shoves them into his hoodie pocket. “Oh yeah? You post that shit on your social media or something? Sorry, I don’t really use those trash platforms. I have a Twitch stream though,” he acts like this is the time for a regular conversation, even as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, yanking them down his hips to pull his cock free. Your eyes go wide, mind a bit blank and missing something, in favor of looking at him pump his length lazily. A trail of blue curls like on his head travel from his navel to his groin where it spreads out a little, the color a bit darker as it goes lower. He’s not one to shave it seems, but your eyes focus on his cock, average in length but girthy with a tip that curves up almost perfectly. It looks like a cock someone would sell as a dildo at a sex store. It was pretty, admittedly, as a few pearls of pre-cum dotted the tip and spilled over as he slowly worked it above you. “Hungry?” He jokes, but when you nod he grits his teeth and bites back a moan, the night truly more unexpected than he thought. “Open up then, crybaby.” He thankfully didn’t call you a bitch again, crybaby the less of the evils and more acceptable of a petname for your preference as you open your lips and awkwardly lean your head forward. “No need to lean up,” he mumbles, shifting until his knees now rested by your shoulders, tip just in your mouth and his forearms on the earth above your head. He’s looking down at you, and you lay back down as he works his cock in your mouth. He’s going to fuck your mouth, you realize a bit late, the position so easy for him to hit balls deep in your throat and prevent you from running just from his weight alone. You’re pinned to earth, the scent of crisp autumn becoming mingled with the musky masculine odor the stranger had clinging to him. Something smelled of iron too, but it was fainter and didn’t bother you too much, not when he seemed determined to suffocate you with his cock. You jerk a little, teeth accidentally grazing his cock and his hiss of pain alerts you that you’ve hurt him. He pulls up and out of your mouth, glaring ferociously as he looks down at you with contemplation. “Sorry—! I’m not used—,” the words leaving you mouth go unfinished as you’re suddenly looking away and down, confusion wracking your mind before white hot pain erupts across your face and you cry out in agony.

He watches with a cool nonchalance as you whimper and cry, holding your inflamed cheek and looking at him with teary eyes filled with questions. The sight doesn’t help his hardness, your face swelling a bit from the force of the blow already, but it was still arousing how you cried for him so easily. “Don’t bite my fucking dick and I won’t hit you, clear?” He’s grabbing you roughly by the hair again, yanking you up and no longer in the mood for that awkward position as he stands and pulls you to your knees. This position at least gives him a good eye full of your tits, shaking from your little trembling as you’re made to look up at him. His angry reddened cock next to your injured cheek is a sight for him, his hand gripping his shaft and slapping you lightly on the cheek with it, his hand in your hair preventing you from turning away even as you whimper in pain. “Okay, we’ll try this again, crybaby. Open.” You do, even as tears run like waterfalls down your face, mascara smeared and making a pathetic sight for sore eyes of you, you let his cock enter your mouth once more.

Because you’ve never been more aroused.

Your stranger isn’t nice, pushing hard and deep into your throat immediately and gagging you. You’re careful with your teeth, jaw already burning and aching as he locks his arm and hand, strands of hair tearing out as he works his hips into your face at an uneven pace. “Stop fucking moving,” he growls, stepping even closer, blocking any and all exits and forcing you to take it. His cock didn’t seem so scary when he’d pulled it out, but in your throat it was a plug to your oxygen and felt too big for your poor mouth. It hurt, feeling him go too deep and leaving you coughing and sputtering and even still he wouldn’t pull out, groaning and pressing impossibly deep like he truly means to suffocate you. “You got a good little mouth pussy, crybaby. Fuck—take my cock, just like that.” He moans, watching as you struggle on his dick to breathe or swallow, slobber and tears coating his cock as he makes a mess of your pretty face. He doesn’t care that your eyes are starting to roll back, hands which had previously been clawing at his legs going limp at your sides. You acted more like a hole for him to fuck when you were limp like this, and it drove him wild as he grunted like an animal and rutted into your mouth like he held a grudge against you. Both hands dug into your hair, hands pulling you back onto his cock when his hips bucked you away. “Never fucked a—holy shit—ah, mouth so damn good before—, ah fuck, fuck,” he’s getting breathier as time ticks by, his own eyes rolling back as his balls draw up tight. “I’m going to cum, ready for me crybaby? Want it in your tummy or on your face?” He’s being condescending on purpose, but it’s a bit useless considering he’s rendered you nearly unconscious on his dick. He shrugs your lack of response off, pumping his cock down your throat until he sees stars and yanks himself free just before the first spurt misses and hits the grass below, he grips the base, pumping and shooting his next shot right onto your face. He yanks your head against his thigh, delirious face dazed and coughing softly as he finishes on your glitter and mascara run cheeks, using the tip to smear it well into your ruined makeup as he sneers at you from above.

“Hah…” he catches his breath, sucking in oxygen along with you as his gaze turns calculated.

“Wake up, I’m not done with you yet.” He’s more gentle now that he's cum at least once, tapping your uninjured cheek with two fingers as your eyes roll around before opening and looking at him.

He swears, your face making him hard again instantly, blood pooling to his groin at the messy sight of you in your white ruined angel costume. “You really are unlucky I was out tonight, I don’t think I’m gonna let you go.” His dead serious comment caused something cold to hit your veins, chills running through you as you gape in shock.

“W-what…?” He reaches into his hoodie pocket, pulling out what looked like a foot long serrated hunting blade. He snickers at the blank look of shock on your features.

“What’s wrong, crybaby? No tears for me right now?” You’re shaking, getting paler by the second as you realize no, it’s not a costume, and yes, there is still dried blood on the blade. There’s dried blood all over him, his spree tonight ridiculously fruitful and his body still high on the thrill. Imagine his luck finding you. “T-this wasn’t in my profile, wh-what are you doing?” Now you look alert, now you act like a regular civilian, he notes cooly. “I only con-consented to the sex and stuff, I said I didn’t like—like blades or blood play.” Your eyes are wide as saucers and you have a cold sweat now forming and dotting your skin, shaky like on too much caffeine as your body dumped chemicals to help you run.

His head tilts, a few more strands of hair coming loose from his tie as those red eyes watch you without any emotion in their depths.

“Ah~ I get it now. Are you some kind of freak who links up with people online for this kind of shit?” He laughs, eyes not matching the manic toothy grin. “Sorry to disappoint slut, I ain’t your tinder or whatever match. Did you do it anonymously?” He’s beyond amused, thrilled by the horror dawning on your face as reality sets in. “You’re a fucking idiot.” He sneers, but he’s joyful when you book it, heeled boots caked in mud as they dig into the ground and you take off for real. True intent to get away now because he’s not your new friend, he’s a real stranger and his energy is nothing but malevolent.

You’re going to die.

It’s a sick thought that twists inside you as you push the hardest you’ve ever, scream bubbling up and out as you cry for help now. “HELP! Please! Someone! Anyone!” It’s more broken and hoarse than you want, his earlier abuse to your throat having taken a number on your ability to vocalize.

It’s empty. This damn park is empty.

Not a soul around and you can’t hear him coming for you anymore, and it only makes the tears fall harder as you drive your body to a breaking point. If no one is around you can at least aim for your car, your phone will take too much time to look at and dial the police, you’d be too open and that would mean—

Something—someone—smashes into you, your body thrown sideways by the brute force and flung roughly to the ground where you roll several feet.

It hurts—!

Your body and mind scream as pain lights up your shoulder, a previously dull ache now hounding for your attention so much it left you lightheaded. You twisted your ankle too or maybe broke it, already so regretful for the evening and your life choices that your shoes hardly broke the bank. It all hurt, and yet you still tried to crawl to get away, still eager for another deep breath of air in your lungs even if it hurt to do that too.

“Hck, please, please—help—!,” you’re a sobbing pathetic mess, and he couldn’t be more turned on by the sight. He dusts himself off like he hadn’t tackled you like a linebacker for a major league football team, his lanky form sinewy with muscle and his agility nothing to scoff at. He swirls the enormous daunting blade with a whistle, smiling more genuinely as he strolls towards your shaking form crawling away.

“Where do you think you’re going, crybaby? I said I wasn’t done with you,” he lands a solid hit to your middle, dirty sneaker smearing mud on your cute little dress, looking less and less white as the night wears on. The blow is not hard enough to damage anything, he’s sure, but you act as if you’ve been disemboweled by how you howl and heave. He rolls his eyes at the dramatics, settling one foot between your shoulder blades and pressing down until you’re left immobilized.

Your vision is blurry, going in and out of focus as you try, and try, and try to get away, cute nail polish chipped and ruined as you claw at the dirt floor for leverage.

He admires your tenacity. “You think you can get away? That anyone is coming to save you?” He brushes a few stray hairs out of his face as he laughs, the urge to gut you strong as he savors your useless little struggle. “Crybaby, look around! No one is coming! I said look,” he grinds out, dropping to one knee while his other leg remains planted on your back, his hand gripping your hair and yanking your head up to see what he meant.

There’s a fence. A metal chain link fence, and it had a sign your vision was too blurry to read through your tears.

“You ran yourself straight into the worst possible area, this is sort of your game over,” He leans down to look at you, yanking your head back and forcing you into an uncomfortable arch. He raises up the blade, fully intending to slit your pretty throat and watch your eyes as the light fades, but you blubber out a sentence which halts him.

“Y-you didn’t finish! E-earlier, hck, earlier you didn’t finish—!” Your eyes squeeze closed in pain as he yanks your head to the side. Confusion burned in him, and curiosity kept you breathing for now.

“Didn’t finish what, crybaby? Fairly certain I finished all over your face, if I remember correctly.” He has a sharp edge in his tone, something metallic fills your mouth and you realize you’ve bitten through your tongue in your panic. A few drops spill past your lips, catching his attention.

“S-shouldn’t you also f-fuck me too? I-it’s why I came out tonight, wh-why I, ah, d-did this,” it’s a long shot by any means, and he’s no fool, but you did make a good point.

He was still hard.

“Smart little crybaby, aren’t you?” He mutters darkly, setting aside his blade in favor of smashing your face into the dirt, keeping your head down as he presses against your back and yanks your hips up. Your knees are skinned from the rough handling, socks torn open and stained with blood and dirt while his calloused hands slip beneath your dress. Your breath hitches. You needed to think of some way out of this, some kind of plan to escape or incapacitate him.

He’s busied himself with your still dripping cunt. Two fingers roughly filling your hole and uncaringly stretching your tight entrance. “You really are a freak, wet even though you’re going to die, crybaby.” He felt a bit strange as you whimper and mewl below, hand slowing as he tried to place the feeling.

He shrugs it off, instead easily yanking down his jeans which were still unbuttoned and pulling out his cock once more, stroking his shaft a few times before he lined himself up with your puffy lips. “Fuck—,” he swears, eyes seeing stars as he pushes just his tip past the tight ring of muscle at your entrance, mouth opening as licks his lips and stares down at you. “Never had pussy so good…” he giggles darkly, cracking his neck as he pushes each inch inside of you, stretching you out deliciously until you’re speared on his cock with his hips flush with your ass. “Who knew you’d be the best, crybaby.” He muses, fingers digging into the fat of your hips, your little dress flipped up and over your ass so he can watch it bounce as he leans back on his knees to fuck you deeper. You need to think straight but it’s difficult with how good your body feels, the pain from earlier seeming to go away with a numb buzz as he fills your pussy, hitting perfectly against a spot that has you arching harder for more.

You really are a freak like he says.

You can’t help relaxing further, eyes dumbly looking to the side where your head rests as he pounds into you from behind, the coil in your gut growing tighter by the minute.

The clouds blocking the moon seem to part just for you, the full moon’s light no longer blocked and illuminating the little patch of grass he’d tackled you into. Something gleams, in perfect reach too as your eyes widen.

His knife.

He’d already proven you can’t outrun him, but what if he was injured? There’s a major artery in the thigh, if you hit that, wouldn’t you be able to get away?

He yanks back roughly, moaning as he feels you squeeze even tighter around him, velvet walls massaging his dick while he tries to fuck himself as deep as possible inside of you.

It hit you despite all your intentions not to, because this wasn’t safe and he wants to end your life and everything is wrong, but your body doesn’t listen. You cum with a shaky cry, and with an awkward turn of your head you watch as his head goes back and he moans, eyes closed in bliss as you coat his cock in even more slick.

You’re louder than you intended to be, but your fingers close around the hilt nonetheless, trembling with the heavy weight in your grasp, you use every ounce of energy inside you to swing it back into his thigh.

“Cute,” you scream as he catches your wrist, hand clenching so tight you feel your bones grind together as the knife falls from your grip. He twists your arm around and pins your wrist behind your back, holding it in place while his other hand remains at your hip.

“So fucking cute, crybaby. Did you cum just to distract me or was that because you couldn’t help yourself?” He’s getting a high from this, from fucking you and turning you into nothing but a toy as he bounces you on his cock, hips still but arms pulling you back and forth with ease. Scarlet eyes drink you in with undisguised sick glee, and he’s finally able to place the feeling from earlier.

“A pretty little slut trying to get her rocks off and getting shown why she should’ve been a good girl and stayed home,” he grunts, releasing you and leaning over, pinning you with his weight and nearly knocking the air from your lungs how deeply he hits you inside from this angle. Dirt fills the underbelly of your nails, your fingers digging into the earth just for some semblance of stability.

You had none. It was a sick and horrifying realization. You have no control. You can do nothing to stop this. As deeply as it made your gut sink, another odd emotion rose to the surface.

A bubbly sensation that tore through you as your tears became less from fear and more from overstimulation.

His hips piston in and out of you, bullying your cervix in this position as he ruts into you like a hound, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he moans and grunts.

You break again, spasm and cinch down on his cock like a vice while you wail as if in mourning. Maybe you are, for yourself at least. “Oh fuck—! s’too much—, please, I can’t—, f-feels good, hah,” your nearly incoherent babbling sends him over the edge along with you, his own dull nails finally drawing blood as he holds you for dear life as he releases deep inside you, tip kissing right up against you womb as he cums. You can feel it too, his cock twitching inside as the night seems to still for a moment.

He holds you for a while. Breathing you in, nuzzling his face into your neck and licking you. He holds you until his cock fully softens and it hurt to be gripped so tightly inside your wet heat, regrettably pulling away.

He stands, putting his sticky limp cock away inside his underwear and pulling up his pants, looking down at your ruined figure that had slumped over to the side.

“Y’know, crybaby… you really resemble an angel now,” he smiles, red eyes almost glowing as the moon blankets his back and shadows his face. His hair seems almost white like this, your tired eyes note. You don’t move or even flinch as he grabs his knife and yanks your limp figure up by your hair. Even now you’re still crying, face lax despite the rivers flowing down your dirty swollen cheeks. You make no effort to stop him, having given up completely.

He crouches down again, mostly eye level now as he makes you look at him.

“You got any last words?” He’s being dead serious. He feels strange looking at the almost glazed over look in your eyes.

“W-what…” your voice is barely a whisper, but the night is so quiet he catches it, “what’s your…name?”

An unexpected question.

His eyes gleam, smile ravenous as he puts his lips against your ear and whispers it.

“Tomura, what’s your name, crybaby?” He asks, gently, almost like he’s actually interested.

You hoarsely whisper it, your last time ever saying it after tonight. He hums, like it pleases him, before he brings down the knife swiftly.

Your vision goes dark, the strike mercifully painless. Your last thoughts blur as you drift into soft nothingness.

He releases your hair, grabbing your limp figure up in his arms as he chuckles and sheaths his knife properly on his hip. “Dumb crybaby” his voice almost singing the words as he whistles and walks away, the park dead silent but even if someone had seen you in his arms, he could just play the good boyfriend taking his sweetheart home safely. It’s not entirely a lie either, his eyes glancing down at your unconscious form, pretty neck unmarred but a bruise would likely form on the back where he struck you tomorrow. Tomura had never felt compelled to allow a victim to live, but then again he’s never fucked a victim either, so you’re the first for a lot. He supposed it made you quite special, his legs carrying him in the direction of his car in the parking lot about a mile south. Obsession and possessiveness swirled in those red depths as they looked at your figure.

“Good girls should just stay home…” he continues his sardonic little tune, his smile gruesome and foreboding.

Vibrant blue orbs check his surroundings again, noting once again his friend was a no show. Rolling his eyes, he knew it was too good to be true. Your profile screamed inexperienced and cautious, despite you clicking that you’d like him to remain anonymous beforehand. It didn’t matter, he’d just go enjoy some sorority girl pussy instead, figuring at 0330 that most parties would be winding down. Drunk girls dressed like sluts were his second favorite.

Dabi clicks the notify option on his app, letting the website staff know you never showed up.

Though, he muses if something did happen, the police wouldn’t be notified until it was too late. Halloween weekend after all meant you could be missing for quite a while before anyone noticed.

Not his problem though.

Post dividers/@cafekitsune

#tw:noncon #kinktober #Shiggy fuckers come get y’all juice #kinktober 2023 #my only one lol #shigaraki tomura smut #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki mha #shigaraki x reader #mha tomura #tomura x reader #boku no hero academia tomura #yandere tomura #yandere shigaraki tomura #yandere tomura smut #yandere shigaraki tomura smut #yandere tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader smut

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arieswritez · 5 months

Text

puppy love

puppy love | yandere!mark grayson x afab!reader | MULTI-CHAP: 3

chapter 2

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!!! reader is neurodivergent, ableism, growing up is messy & adults suck, angst, niceguy™/slight incel mark, childhood friend/bully!mark, mark gets his powers sooner, teeny tiny implications of pseudo incest (blink and you'll miss it), violent rape, threats of violence, & canon typical violence, stalking, implied murder, gender & body dysphoria, mentions/implications of disordered eating, mark teases reader about their body once, overall asshole mark, implied grooming (mark handles it but he's a lil bitch about it later), so, victim blaming, misogyny, the inexplicable horrors of being afab, objectification, sexualization

about; you don't know how long i could stare into your picture and wish that it was me i guess it's different 'cause you love him but i've got an interactive sick and twisted imagination and that's gotta count for something - not allowed (tv girl)

you'd found a boy that made your heart go thump thump, thump. and you knew very well how the rest of that story usually went.

your love was encompassing. asphyxiating and obsessive. and in the very first moment the two of you interacted, you knew, this could be it.

you didn't blame yourself.

you couldn't blame yourself.

blame the love stories.

the disney movies with the princes and the magic mirrors. breaking curses with true love's kiss. much like the fabricated sugary fantasies, your potential life with him unfolded before your eyes.

he could be the one.

true love's forever kiss.

you imagined it all.

movie theater dates, awkward parental meetings, proposals, a home, kids, pets. arguments. therapy, even. pushing through at the end. death. rebirth. trying it all over again in the next life.

all you had to do was get him to stick around.

you had to make him understand that you could be his true love kiss, too.

you had to be perfect.

. . there was just one miniscule problem.

the boy so happened be on the same baseball team as mark.

it's the way the two of you had met.

despite the fact that you were supposed to be there for mark: your eyes were . . elsewhere. your eyes - then your focus - had gravitated towards him even before the first pitch. and you found yourself blushing as you watched him stretch: holding his baseball bat over his head.

you'd made it your only goal to attempt to extract as much information about it from mark as discretely as you could. and frankly, you should've known mark would be able to read you like the back of his hand.

because he found out what you were trying to do embarrassingly quickly.

and he was just as quick to shut it down.

you hadn't noticed the boy before. not really. but since the baseball game, he seemed to be everywhere. and you were excited to find that he was the new addition to mark's friend group. you knew this because you saw him and mark sitting together during lunch.

which meant they were at least acquaintances.

so imagine your shock when you came to find out. . mark didn't like him.

everything about him seemed to rub mark the wrong way. mark would clam up the moment you mentioned your boy. he'd change the subject. or his mood would just straight up sour. he'd go quiet and avoidant. and when you kept pushing, he finally snapped.

your boy was stupid.

your boy was shallow.

"don't say i didn't warn you." mark would mumble.

but warning you wasn’t enough.

your boy barely looked at you.

and you weren't sure if it was in part because of the way you acted. . the way you looked. maybe he was so out of your league that he'd completely removed you from his radar.

you'd watch him from across hallways and excitement would swell in your chest when you found that you'd be walking in opposite directions.

you'd see him coming.

he'd see you.

time would slow as you walked past him.

your heart rate would pick up.

but his eyes would remain forward and time would pick back up again as soon as you were past each other.

all it'd leave you with was the bitter taste of rejection in your mouth and a deep ache of anxiety bubbling in your stomach.

the only thing that sobered you up were the dizzying possibilities.

he hadn't seen you. he hadn't noticed the effort you'd put in.

but eventually, he would.

you don't know what it was that grabbed his attention.

mark was vehemently against introducing you two.

you were at a loss until you realized that you'd just have to try harder.

whenever mark left for the bathroom, you'd made it a mission to swipe mark's phone during study sessions. you'd go through his socials and send yourself screenshots of both his follower count and who he was following.

it was a long tedious progress but eventually, you'd found your boy's account.

thankfully, it was public. which meant the the decoy accounts you'd made to snoop just in case he was private turned out to be a waste of time.

you looked through his followers and did your homework on anyone he showed a particular interest in. you'd even made a list of the usernames of the people who’s posts he interacted with the most.

and soon you became a master of disguise.

you studied them top to bottom.

those that went to the same school were far easier to emulate.

you copied their mannerisms, the way they styled their hair, you changed the cadence of your voice, the way you rolled your r’s. your clothing grew tighter and your slouch was now an exaggerated upbeat gallop as you chased after the object your new affection, hoping one day he'd notice.

. . and the exact moment he looked into your eyes and did a double take. . you did one, too.

it was completely out of surprise before you caught yourself and continued to saunter away from him with butterflies in your stomach: flapping their wings so violently it felt like you'd be swept away.

his attention was the most excitement you'd felt. . in a long time.

and you knew you'd do anything to retain it.

it was a sickly sweet feeling: syrupy, sticky. clogging your vascular system to the point your head swelled. the lack of oxygen only heightened your fantasies.

the attention was addictive and so, so good you found yourself chasing that high all the time. going to extreme lengths to get his attention. even if they’d end up embarrassing you after.

you never allowed yourself to wallow in the feeling of dread that settled in your stomach when you did everything in your power to get his attention, though.

specially whenever it made a smile stretch across his face.

whatever you did faded into the background.

it was all worth it in the end.

something was wrong with mark.

and he needed to get to the root of the problem fast.

he was looking at you. . differently.

he talked to his dad.

nolan had said something about the changing moods having to do with his powers. how being intense and passionate was just in his blood.

he talked to his mom about it. albeit in a more discrete way. he'd never be able to live it down if she'd found out you were making him behave a certain way.

she'd just chalked it up to it being puberty.

mark didn't know who to believe.

he just wanted to stop thinking about you.

his nerves were shot to shit whenever you were near.

senses heightened: you were a fog blanketing his brain until your voice carried with it a technicolor vision.

he could smell you coming like a damn blood hound.

he could hear your pulse while sitting next to you.

something was wrong with mark.

he knew it when his teeth ached when you'd stretched your neck: raised your arms over your head and let out a little sound of pain and discomfort.

something was wrong with mark.

when the day's turned warm and wet. . and your clothing became more revealing.

he could see more of you.

freckles and moles, blemishes and scars, he hadn't noticed before.

he'd follow sweat drops rolling down your skin.

smooth. soft.

he'd held you, once.

when was the last time?

something was wrong with mark.

he'd lay awake at night staring up at the ceiling.

thinking about how you'd looked while you concentrated on a book. while you looked down at your phone. while you listened to music: smiling when a song you liked came on.

your little humming. . but not singing.

never singing.

mark noticed you'd stopped singing in front of him when he started to make fun of you for it.

that, too, was how mark knew something was wrong with him.

the way your moods would shift like tides under a crescent moon whenever he'd said something excited him. he felt pleasure - a violent zap of electricity shooting up and down his spice - watching your eyes light up or darken when he'd say something to you.

about you.

i like your hair today.

light.

you talk so goddamn much.

dark.

i missed you.

light.

your stories take fucking forever.

dark.

something was wrong with him when he found his own mood depended on fantasizing on how he'd make you feel that day.

if he was in a bad mood, seeing you in one, too, was a sure-fire way to make his day a whole lot better.

something was wrong with mark.

when he'd have to smother the sounds he made while imagining you -

something was wrong with him. . when red, hot anger consumed him when one of his friends made a smart quip about your body.

when he couldn't just laugh it off anymore.

something was wrong with mark.

. . or so he thought.

because he'd later find out. .

. . no.

something was wrong with you.

all of a sudden: mark was the one double texting.

triple texting.

mark was the one asking if he could hang out. . and when the fuck did he ever need permission?

mark was the one seeking you out.

something was wrong with you.

and he needed to get to root of the problem.

he picked his brain apart in an attempt to figure out what it was. you couldn't be under any stress. you looked fine. better than fine.

you looked happy.

fucking elated.

to the point where mark couldn't affect your moods anymore.

mark wanted to know what the fuck you were so happy about.

why the fuck you were so happy when he was falling apart at the seams. when his world was crashing down.

and there you were, completely fucking oblivious.

mark had always been curious.

and so, he went to see you.

the two of you were in your room.

you'd excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

and mark started looking.

you were predictable.

he knew where you kept your journal. despite how many times he'd found it and read it aloud - holding it above his head whenever you tried to snatch it away - he'd always managed to figure out your next hiding place.

it was easier that way.

he pretended he didn't know where it was.

you pretended to have some privacy.

he pretended not to know every single, minute, insignificant detail of your life.

of your thoughts.

thank fuck you were still so naive.

thank fuck for dairies.

he'd found it in a box under your bed.

and after flipping to the page with the freshest set of ink. . he'd found out what your problem was.

you'd found a boy who'd made your heart go

thump.

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kurishiri · 3 months

Text

ikémen villains content warning list .ᐟ

this is a work-in-progress compilation of complete content warnings per route (because ikévil tends to underwarn a bit maybe to avoid spoilers) that will be updated as we go. please let me know if I missed anything, regardless if it says ‘work in progress’ or not, or pitch in with warnings. ♡ and ↻ are appreciated!

some of the ikévil routes contain sensitive themes that may be triggering. so please remember to take care of yourself while reading 🫶

GENERAL ༉‧₊˚. 🕊️

canon-typical violence, (minor but named) character death, depictions of murder.

WILLIAM REX ༉‧₊˚. 🍓 —— work in progress !!

near death experience, drug abuse, sexual coercion (not by love interest), corruption, romanticization of death.

HARRISON GRAY ༉‧₊˚. 🦊

corruption of the police and higher-ups, mentions of human trafficking, coercion to commit crimes, mentions of kidnapping.

LIAM EVANS ༉‧₊˚. 🐈

attempted suicide, suicide and suicidal ideation, depression, anxiety, implied self-harm, mentions of child abuse (physical and emotional), fire, severe burn wounds, human trafficking, mental breakdowns.

ELBERT GREETIA ༉‧₊˚. 🍎

objectification both by and against love interest, mentions of sexual assault or rape (not by love interest), domestic abuse, attempted child sexual assault, pedophilia, obsessive and possessive behavior, stalkerish behavior, grooming, non-consensual touching, depicted suicide, self-harm, mental breakdowns, character death of a somewhat major and named side character, mentions of animal death, kidnapping, mentions of human trafficking.

ALFONS SYLVATICA ༉‧₊˚. 🪞

description of children’s corpses, depression, mortality, attempted suicide, near death experience, mental manipulation (?), dub-con: having sexual intercourse while one has “consented” in an intoxicated state or under the influence of a curse, non-con, mentions of drug abuse and the effects of drugs, mentions of child abuse, implied animal death.

(fyi if you’re curious about alfons but are not comfortable with these themes, i have a semi-detailed summary of his character as gleaned from his route here.)

ELLIS TWILIGHT ༉‧₊˚. ⛓️ —— warnings provided by @myusuchaa !!

romanticization of murder and death, family murder and death, suppressed emotions, emotional disconnect, people pleasing, attempted kidnapping, negative treatment of disabilities, coercion, child trafficking, gang activity.

ROGER BAREL ༉‧₊˚. 🍻 —— work in progress !!

a loott of alcohol consumption, drug usage or abuse (recreational drug use), cult activity, near/death experience of a side character, dub-con, self-harm especially in the past.

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thehorrorsoftheblackbunnymask · 6 months

Text

Paid Internship (Part 1)(Prison AU)

Author's Note: This is a Prison AU that the viewers of my blog seem to be pretty fond of. The main focuses for the romance parts will differ depending on the part, but for part 1, it's Liu, Jeff, and Toby. The reader is gender neutral and uses She/He stuff, but sometimes depending on what's going on I'll use stuff like Tits. Also, Sully will be in the fic, but I won't use his name. Pay attention to how Liu talks, they will be major differences between his first meeting and his interview.

Author's Note 2: This is definitely one of my longest and most plot heavy fics on my account. I do plan for this to be multi parter, so this part will be heavy on introducing the characters. This part will have some yandere moments, but they will be mostly prominent in part two. If you wanna be tagged for part two, leave a comment, or reblog.

Summary: Welcome to your paid internship at Roosevelt Federal Prison. After being seen for your potential and skills by your instructor at the Academy, he decided to give you opportunity of working in the US' most dangerous prison despite the disapproval and rejection from the higher ups. However, due to miscommunication and faulty paperwork, you're gonna up working with some of America's most danger serial killers for the semester.

Warnings: Descriptions of crimes, Rape Mentioned, Perversion, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Gore, Sadism, Violence, Implied Nudity, Kidnapping, Implied Abuse, Hostages, Death, Murder, Threats, Mood Swings, Sexual Abuse Implied, PTSD, Mental Illness, Dealings, Attempted Murder, Survivor's Guilt,Cursing, Sleep Deprived Workers, Stress, Agression, and More. This AU is not fo the faint of heart.

Word count: 13.5k

Links: {Masterlist} {Prison AU Introduction}

"Hey kid, you ready?"

You were taken out of your train of thought by your instructor and mentor, Officer Joseph Gibbons. Joseph was a man in his 50's, his once hazelnut hair now started to fade into a light grey, he was a man on the heavier side, plump like a mall santa clause, and despite his uniform being quite clean, it was covered in the smell of cigarettes and men's colone.

"...Not really. Are you sure I'm ready for this?" You asked, fiddling with the sleeves of your uniform.

"Ready? Out of the students at the Academy your the most ready for this. Any other Prison just wouldn't do you any good."

"Any go-"

"And we're here!" Joseph exclaimed, cutting you off mid sentence as he walked out.

You took a deep breath before walking out of the car. When you stepped out, you were greeted with heavy rain and loud thunder. As you looked up at the Prison, you felt a sense of fear hit you. It was like something straight out of a horror movie. The Prison was massive, you could probably see it from miles away if not further. Various plants were taking over the brick and metal walls, you could see officers walking around with flashlights, making sure nobody was trying to get in or out, two large guard outpost stood high on each side of the building, each of them blasting a bright light, and a large metal barbwired gate keeping whatever was inside from getting out.

"Joseph!" A voice yelled from the distance, causing the two of you to shoot your heads in the direction of the noise.

Whoever the voice belonged to, they were running towards the two of you pretty fast, waving their arms around like a lunatic.

"Esther, my dear friend. How the kids?" Joseph asked with a smile as he hugged the man.

Now that the man was closer, you got a better look at him. He had short red hair, a face full of a freckles, a small beard slowly starting grow in, and he was definitely younger than your mentor. He was maybe in his late 30's, early to mid 40's. He was in well shape too, his biceps peeking through the gaurd uniform he wore. He had a pistol, taser, and handcuffs strapped to his waist band on the right side of his body, meaning he was most likely right handed.

During your first year at the Academy, you were taught to see every single detail in a suspect or in a scene, no matter how small or big it was, and now you found yourself doing it like it was second nature at this point.

"They're good, they're good. Havent seen them for a while though, I've been stuck here all week! Now, where's this prodigy you've been pushing for?"

"Esther, meet Y/N L/N. Y/N, this is Officer Esther Wibbsy, I met when I first worked here. He's gonna be watching over you during this whole thing."

"Nice to meet ya, L/N," Esther said, sticking his hand out.

You shook his hand with a nervous smile, unconsciously gripping his hand hard in an attempt of letting out your nervousness.

"Dang, nice grip," He said, pulling his hand back.

"Thanks..."

As you pulled your hand back and wipped your sweat on the pants of your uniform, Joseph started to slowly walk back to the car.

"Your shift ends at 10AM tomorrow, you got this, kid! Remember everything I taught you and you'll be fine."

And as Joseph closed the door of the car and drove off, your only hope of backing out left with him.

"Don't worry, you're not going to be working with the actual dangerous ones."

"I'm not?"

"Walk and talk with me, I'll explain everything on the way."

You let out the biggest sigh of relief before following Esther.

"Roosevelt is divided into two sections. The section you're going to be working in is the normal prisoners. They're still extremely dangerous, but they're a lot more manageable then the others."

"The others?"

"The other section is what give Roosevelt it's reputation. You see, Roosevelt doesn't hold only people, we hold monsters, demons, supernatural beings that we didn't even know existed until we caught them. They're in the other section. The goverment put them here because they don't know what to do with them."

"Woah, so, how do you know I won't run into them?"

"That's the thing, I don't really know. To be honest with you, I think the only reason most of them are still here is by their own choice. Most of them are on death row, and if they really wanted to they can leave, especially Ben."

"Ben?"

"Huh? No I was just rambling..."

As the two got closer to the main gate, something caught Esther’s eyes.

"You see that random brick wall," Esther said, pointing to a wall that stood in the middle of the courtyard, starting from the building all the way until it hit the gate. From the angle you were at, you could just barely see a roof.

"Mhm."

"They're behind that wall. That entire half is their section. Most of the officers who work in that part have been trained specifically to work there and nowhere else."

You felt chills go down your spine as you stared at the wall. Something about it gave off a terrible aura.

"Who's staying in that part..."

"Have you heard of Jeffery Woods?"

"Yeah, Jeff the Killer? Slit mouth?"

"Yeah. That guy, is in that part."

"He's real? I thought he was just some urban legend from when I was a kid. His face was everywhere."

"Nope, he's real, and he's in there. Those pictures aren't what he actually looks like though, he's not that ugly. However, people like him are the reason why you're working in my part, it's a lot safer."

And as those words left his mouth, the two of you stood at the gate entrance. You and Esther walked up to the booth where a lady stood there with a tired, blank expression.

"Who's that?" She asked.

"The intern from Gullermary Academy. Joseph's student."

"Oh... Proceed."

Esther nodded as he opened the metal door and allowed you to walk in first. As you walked in, you were greeted with loud screams and banging from all directions.

"You'll get used to that," Esther said as he walked past you. "Wait in my office, I gotta go get your file from the boss." He then pointed to the door that had Officer Wibbsy written on a metal plate. "You can take any of the snacks, get comfortable because this might take a while."

"OK, thank you," You said, smiling.

Esther merely gave you a soft smile before walking off. Once he was out of view, you opened the door to his office and looked around. On his desk, you saw a picture of a woman smiling. She had freckles with long blonde hair. When you picked up the picture, you saw a date at the bottom.

"September 17, 2017," You read.

Was the woman dead? Or was it the date the photo was taken? Either way, it really wasn't your business. As you sat the picture back down, next to it was a picture of Esther with the woman in the photo next to him. The woman was wearing a white gown while Esther wore a suit, and in his arms was a baby girl wearing a little white dress and next to him was a little boy in a suit as well. Looking up, you saw his diploma in Criminal Justice and next to it was his certificate from the academy.

After taking a look, you plopped down on the chair and stared up at the ceiling. You weren't exactly sure what this internship had in store for you. When Joseph brought it up to you last semester, he kept it very vague. He'd often dismiss your questions and cut you off when you pushed it. You weren't suspicious however, since he was always like this when he tought you during your first year.

You wondered on what kind of prisoners you'll meet. Will you meet someone who was falsely accused and now is paying the price? Maybe you'll meet someone who has been in and out of jail and now is here. Due to your young curiosity, your mind just kept on racing with ideas. But suddenly, your phone began to ring.

Looking down, you saw the words "Mom's calling..." on your phone.

"Hello?" You asked.

"Hi sweetie, how are you?'

"I'm alright. I'm just waiting for my observer to come back with my stuff."

"Oh honey, I'm so proud of you! But, be careful, alright? I don't want anything happening to you."

"I will, mom, I will. You know how good I am."

"I know, I just don't want anything happening to my little girl/boy."

"I know. But, how are you doing mom?"

"I'm doing alright. Me and your father plan on taking a trip to Florida in the spring."

"That's great! Enjoying retirement I see," You said in a teasing tone, earning a giggle from your mother.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN?! THIS IS NOT WHAT HE SIGNED!" A voice suddenly yelled, overpowering the screams of the inmates.

"What was that?" Your mother asked, worried.

You stayed silent as you tried to listen to what was going on.

"I'll call you back, mom," You said, before hanging up.

You slowly walked out the room and looked down the narrow hallway, holding onto your gun tightly as you did.

"I'm telling you for the last time, this is what Joseph signed, his signature is right here."

"That is not what he fucking told me. I know damn well he's not stupid enough to put some barley experienced 24 year old in a room with this country's most dangerous criminals. As their observer, I can't allow this!"

You felt your heart stop when you heard those words come out from Esther's mouth. Despite your wonky confidence in your abilities, you were far from naive. You were not ready for this.

"Look, I'm just as unhappy about this as you are, Joseph is fucking stupid for signing this, but legally there's nothing we can do."

"I already told them that they were going to be fine, I won't even be able to observe them! Who's going to even teach them shit?!"

"I don't know, Wibbsy, I don't know. I can call Joseph and ask him what he wants up to do, but for tonight, they're working in the Creeps section, whether you like it or not."

Esther pulled at his hair and he looked at his boss with rage.

"If that kid dies because of this, I'm fucking done with this place, you hear me?"

"I hear."

When Esther walked out of the room, he was greeted by your shocked, frozen figure at the end of the hallway.

"You heard it, didn't you?"

"Y-Yeah..."

"Just... Shit... Take this and just, go straight down that hallway, and they'll take you from there."

"Uh...Ok. I'll see you later," You said nervously as you took your file and walked off.

Esther stared at you as you walked off, feeling a sense of guilt and responsibility consume him like water.

"Please don't die..."

The hallway to the other side was extremely narrow and costraphobic, you could feel the walls press up on you as your walked. One thing about the entire journey that disturbed you wasn't the leaking walls or the filthy floors, but it was the silence. Compared to the other section that was booming with noise, the closer you got to the second half, the quieter it got. You could only hear little whispers from behind the walls, but they were so quiet that you couldn't make out a word. The hallway was dark, dirty, and wet. You assumed that the rain from the storm has leaked through the walls and onto you. You could see roaches and even saw a rat run past you. You wanted to throw up. It was as if this place was abandoned.

When you got to the end of the hall, there was large metal door. There was no card scanner, or even a person standing in a booth.

"Hello? Hello?" You said, knocking on the door.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a short lady started at you with wide eyes.

You could only see the woman's head, but she looked as if she was held hostage for years. Her eyes were wide, as if she had been traumatized, her hair was a mess, her officer cap was barely covering her head, and her face seemed to be bruised.

"...Name..." The woman said, staring into your eyes.

"Y/N L/N. I'm the intern."

And before you could blink, you were grabbed and forced into the horrors that awaited you.

The lobby section was bright and white, similar to a hospital. However, there was no cameras, or an officer sitting behind the glass with a computer.

There was a metal door that stood in front of you, keeping from whatever was on the other side from getting out. Ingraved into the door were the words "Inmate Quaters."

"Let me see your file," The woman said shakily, taking the file from your hands.

"Um, are you OK, ma'am?"

"Me? Oh...I'm alright, I didn't get the worse of it."

"WE NEED SECURITY PERSONAL IN SOLITARY CONFINEMENT, BEN'S CELL 001 IMMEDIATELY, I REPEAT, WE NEED SECURITY PERSONAL IN SOLITARY CONFINEMENT, BEN'S CELL 001 IMMEDIATELY!" The woman's walkie blasted as she read your file.

Suddenly, a large group of men ran past the two of you, carrying guns and covered in riot gear.

"Um...Ma'am?"

"Hm?" The woman responded, not taking her eyes off your file.

"Who's Ben?"

"If you're not working on his case I can't tell you anything, sorry."

"Oh...Ok."

"Huh...The Woods... Rogers... Otis... Wright... Thomas... This... no, this can't be right. Are they fucking stupid?" The woman asked, looking up at you.

"I don't know, maybe?"

"OK, It's fine, it's fine! Who's on the roster for today... Rogers... Jeffery... Liu... At least you got Liu... Ok, follow me."

The woman walked towards the door that had "Inmate Quaters" written on it, beckoning you to follow her.

"Have you gone through your file?"

"No, I've only been for forty minutes..."

"Here, read it. Read the first three for now, the others you'll be working on at a later date."

Once the lady handed you your file, you started to read through it as the two of you made your way to the cells.

The file was the one of a picture of a man with pale skin, greasy black hair, a slitted mouth, and a crazed smile. He was a picture of his mugshot, eyes bloodshot with a large shit eating grin.

"Jeffery Woods. A man in his early 30s, arrested for multiple accounts of serial Murder, Mutilation, Kidnapping, Torture, Stalking, Vandalism, Arson, Breaking and entering, Parricide, Drug use and rape. He has the reputation of assaulting, mocking, teasing and harassing guards. Jeff is often in solitary confinement, but that doesn't stop him from his usual actions. Has to be kept away from Jane Elizabeth Arkensaw due to them activity starting fights. He is deemed one of the deadliest prisoners in our institution. During your internship, he will be one of the prisoners you'll be interacting to help sharpen your skills. He will by far be one of if not the hardest to interrogate. His case is still under investigation..."

You read the words on the paper with disgust. His smile, so deranged, so sadistic, as if he was talking a school picture, ignoring the lives of those he's ruined or taken.

"Be careful with Jeff, he likes pretty ones," The woman commented as you read.

"Wait, I have a question."

"Ask it."

"Will be looking into their case? Like, will I be doing interviews and looking at evidence?"

"Well, I'm not sure about evidence, their cases are gruesome, and the transcripts of victims' families interviews and the interviews of victims who survived are not pretty... However, I know you will be interviewing some of them, like The Woods and Rogers. Now keep reading, we're most there."

You nodded as you moved Jeff's paper to end and looked at the next one. The image was the one of a man with stitches. He had a blank tired expression in his mugshot, not sad or sadistic, but one of bordem. He had brown hair with bright green eyes, and just like Jeffery, he was pretty pale.

"Liu Woods, also known as Homicidal Liu. A man in early to mid 20s, arrested for Serial murder, stalking, kidnapping, robbery, breaking and entering, assault, and vandalism. Currently serving a a sentence of 50 years but has a chance of parole once he serves 20. Liu is the little brother of Jeffery Woods, and after Jeffery almost murdered him, he developed an alter ego named Sully. Lui is is relatively quiet, observant, possessive and violent. But his violence gets worse when he's Sully. Lui normally doesn't harm guards or prisoners unless provocted, but he has attacked them with no apparent reason on multiple accounts. Liu is one of the prisoners you will be seeing often due to you working mostly in his section of the prison, where most of the pastas are such of Eyeless Jack and Toby. Warning when dealing with Liu, watch your words and actions, DO NOT touch anything of his unless it's a danger to him or others, and don't ask him too much about his past due to it being his biggest trigger in becoming Sully. If you're dealing Sully, be extremely careful, don't make sudden moves and don't anger him. Sully is extremely violent, sadistic but oddly childish. Sully is supposedly a seven year old according to both himself and Liu, so treat him as an extremely dangerous child."

You stared at Liu's image for a few moments after reading the report. Him and Jeff barely looked the related besides in the eye shape and skin color. With mugshots alone, you felt as if your experience with the two brothers will be drastically different.

"Do you have any advice on Liu?" You asked to woman.

"No. He isn't too bad, just really, really quiet. But when he does talk, he's very charming. He's a man of few words."

You nodded in response as you placed Liu's file in the back and looked down at the last one. It was a picture of a man, messy brown hair, the right side of his cheek was missing, revealing his teeth and gums, his eyes held heavy bags as if he hadn't sleep for days, and his neck and hands were covered in bandages. His expression was a pretty tired one, his eyes were droopy as he stared into the camera, some of his hair covering his face as he looked.

"Tobias Erin Rogers. A man in his late 20s arrested for Serial murder, Torture, Vandalism, Arson, Stalking, Patricide, Breaking and Entering, Kidnapping, and suspected of multiple accounts of sexual assault but is yet to be confirmed. Currently sentenced to life in jail with possibility of parole after serving a minimum of 30 years. He suffers a handful of disorders and quite often causes trouble for both staff and other inmates. He struggled with controlling his emotions and his impulsive behavior which often leads to himself, inmates and staff to be harmed. Despite this, you will be interacting with him during your internship due to him being able to get a long with staff for a short period of time if he finds them "hot." Warnings, don't get too attached, don't believe most of the things he says, don't give or take anything from him, and don't let his suffering fool you. He has a history of using his suffering against others and actually led to him escaping when he was first sent here when he was 19, and they didn't capture him again until last year when he turned 27."

"WE still don't know much about Rogers," The woman said as she stopped walking, causing you to bump into her.

"Oh, sorry," You said, backing away to give her some space. "But, why is that?"

"He hasn't told us jack shit. He hasn't told us about his motives or his past, the only things we know is the murders he's rambled about in past interviews. Since you two are pretty close in age, maybe you got a better shot then we do," The woman responded, opening the door that led to the door of the inmates quarters.

When the woman opened the metal door, there was a massive wall of metal and glass. It was a look in to see the inmates, and luckily it was a one way mirror.

"This is where the inmates sleep and spend most of their time. They don't leave this area unless they're sent to solitary confinement."

As you looked through the glass, you saw two men sitting next to each other against the wall, and above them on the second floor were two women talking.

"The two men on the bottom are Timothy Wright and Brian Thomas. You won't be meeting them for a while, but they're on your roster."

"How bad are they?"

"Depends on who you're asking."

"And above them is Jane Elizabeth Arkensaw and Natalie Outlette. Jane is definitely one of the most well behaved inmates we have here, hell, she shouldn't even be here..."

The woman continued to explain the operations and how things functioned in the Prison.

"Inmates eat breakfast at 4AM, and they don't eat again until 11:30 for lunch. After breakfast, they have freetime to do whatever they please, they don't get jobs or specialties like the other inmates. We tend to leave them to their devices under close observation."

You took a look into the inmate quarters and noticed that the man with short black hair was staring directly at you. He held a blank expression as he stared through your soul. You felt your blood run cold as he stared you down with his cold, emotionless eyes. You saw the man next to him look at him with amusement before telling him something, which cause the man to take his eyes off you and look at the other man with rage. You watched as the man yelled at him, but due to the noise canceling effects the room you were in had, you only saw the movements and gestures, no actual words.

"Ma'am, are you sure they can't see us?" You asked as you slowly turned your head away from the scene.

"Positive. Why must you ask?" The woman asked as she walked towards a door that read Officer Sarah Mandel.

"The man with the sideburns was just staring at me," You said, pointing to the man.

"Oh...Wright. he does that from time to time, ignore it."

"Uhhh, ok," You responded as you slowly turned your head away from the man named Wright.

"What time is it?" The woman asked.

"6:30 PM, why?"

"In 15 minutes you'll be interviewing Jeffery Woods," The woman said as she began to walk into a room.

When you were about to follow her, she walked back out with a piece of paper in her hands. She then rubbed her eyed tiredly before handing you the paper with a yawn.

"You ok, ma'am?"

"Yeah...Just tired, I've been working 18 hours and I don't go home till 10. Now, ask Jeff the questions on this paper, don't go off script. If he tries, redirect him, don’t give him a chance to get off topic. Now, he says some pretty perverted and weird things, ignore it and you'll be fine. An officer will be waiting outside the door, and there's a button under the table to notify him to come in. There will also be another officer with you in the room since this is your first time. Got all that?"

"Yep! So uh, where the place I'll be interviewing him?"

"Follow."

You and the woman then walked deeper into the area you in, going past the inmates quarters and going through a door that read 'Interigation Roon, Level 4 and up.'

As the two of you walked, you decided to read some of the questions on the paper. Most of the questions were ones you've seen at the Academy. Stuff like, 'Why did you do what you did?' And 'Did you know your victims?' And so on and so forth. Some of the questions were more detailed though. One in particular asked 'At the scene of one of your crimes, we found a dog next to a door that was locked. When we tried going through the door, it killed two of our best officers. What was behind that door, and who was that dog?'

You remember when you were younger, this image of a dog with a crazed smile was circling around. Some said it was cursed, others said it was some urban legend. But, you picture the image in your head, and you look down at Jeffrey's wanted photo, you couldn't feel like that was connected to him somehow.

"Alright, you'll be in room 899 for all of your interviews, keep that in mind. Now, they'll be here in 5 minutes with Jeffery, you ready?"

"Yeah, I think so," You said as your hands and legs shook with nervousness.

The woman let out a light chuckle before putting her hand on your shoulder with a smile.

"You're gonna be ok, kid. It's you first day, and you're already working with some dangerous people, but it comes with the job. You'll get it no time."

"Thanks, I appreciate it," You said as you took a deep breath and walked into the room.

The room was small with bright lights, two cameras on each side of the room, clean white walls, and a table with a chair on each side in the middle.

You sat down on the chair facing the door and pulled at your uniform to fix any wrinkles or badges that were out of place. You opened the folder and took out Jeffery's paper before placing the folder under your chair.

"It's ok, Y/N. He isn't going to do anything," You said to yourself as you looked down at the papers.

Suddenly, you began to hear footsteps and the sound of chains walking towards you.

And then, the door opened, and you were greeted with a sight that gave you chills.

A man, so tall that could barely fit through the doorway. His hair was long and greasy, covering his face as he looked down lifeless. He was pretty skinny too, that inmate uniform he wore being quite baggy on him. Covering him were chains, his hands were cuff and his ankles were chains together as well. You couldn't see his face, but you could see his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot and wide, staring at you with insanity and rage.

You did your best to keep your stone cold expression, but you couldn't hide the deed of sweat that rolled down your brow as he got closer to you.

The two officers that brought him forced him down of the seat before tying him to the chair tightly.

"That's a bit much, don't you think?" Jeffery said, turning his head to look at the male officer. He had a massive grin on his face as he asked the question in a joking manner.

"No," The male officer said coldly before walking in the corner.

The female officer looked at you with a nod before walking out and closing the door behind her.

Now, in the first semester of your second year at the Academy, it was mostly focused on interagation and the art of the mind. You were told to remain calm and composed at all times, but don't be too serious as well.

Joseph said people are less likely to comfortable and truthful when you make yourself appear as stone cold serious or far too casual. He said to find a balance, make them feel comfortable, maybe joke once or twice, but make them aware that this is serious.

"So, how are you doing, Jeffery?"

Jeff then shot up and slowly turned his head to look at you. His face was neutral, but the nasty scarred smile on his face did give you goosebumps.

"Jeffery... I haven't been called that in a while."

"What are you called then?"

"Jeff."

"Well, Jeff, how are you doing?"

"Shitty. I've been stuck in solitary all fucking month!"

"I'm sorry to hear that."

When you going the ask why, you remembered that the woman told you not to go off script. You took a glance at the officer in the corner before peeping down at the paper.

"So, Jeff, you've been charged with a books worth of crimes, and you've been on death row since December 25, 2014. We've had you in this place for a few years now, but you still haven't told us why you did it."

Jeff stared at you before scoffing and rolling his eyes.

"Same old question! How many times do I have to tell you fucking people. It was fun! Stalked a few people, kidnapped some, fucked the pretty ones, and at the end of the day all of them would be fucking dead," Jeff said with a grin, his eyes slowly starting to move down to your tits.

"Hey! Eyes up here," You demanded, snapping your fingers to get his attention to your face. "I'm here for answers, Jeff, not to be your eye candy."

"Awwww," Jeff moaned, giving you a pout.

"So..." You said, looking through his file. Jeff looked at you boredly as he yawned and leaned back into his chair. In the corner of your eye, you saw the police officer in the corner give Jeff a glare.

"A girl...oh. A girl went missing right before your arrest, her name was Abbie Grace, 21 year old college student. We haven't found her since and evidence is pointing towards you. Does the name ring any bells?"

"Abbie...? Nope! Not at all," Jeff answered, a strange optimistic tone laying in his voice.

After those words left his mouth, you pulled out a picture of Abbie. She had long pink and blue hair with pale skin and bright blue eyes. Her face was covered in freckles and her eyes had a shine to them. She seemed friendly and kind, her bright smile showing off her dimples and crooked teeth.

"Does she look familiar?"

Jeff leaned forward and looked at the photo. He paused for a few moments before realization hit him.

"Oh! Candy Head."

"So you do recognize her?"

"Yeah."

"What happened to her?"

"Heh, I don't know. I was told to kidnap her, not kill her."

The word told caught your attention immediately, and it seemed to catch the other officer's attention too. Nothing in his file said anything about a boss, it was said that he worked alone, a solo act.

"Told? By who?"

"Eh, I don't feel like telling."

"Jeff."

"What? Suck my dick first and maybe I'd tell you."

"You're not getting anything out of him, rookie," The other officer said, letting out a sigh.

"Well, what'd you do with her while she was with you?"

"Hmmm, well, She was definitely an ugly crier. She would always cry and cry, the bitch even tried to kill me with a butter knife," Jeff answered before laughing at the girl's attempts to escape.

"Hm. Do you remember you remember the last thing you did to her?"

"She did have a pretty face, and a fat ass," Jeff said before his eyes glazed over with lust as he reminisced. An errie smile continued to grow on his face as he contiued his thought. "She was the whole package, and I wasn't going to ler a girl like that go out easy."

You knew what he meant, his file didn't lie one bit, the guy was a fucking sadist.

"After fucking the bitches brains out, I gave the her to Toby."

"...Toby? Is he your partner?"

"Partner? You're funny! As if I'd work with that retard. if you wanna know what happened to her, ask him."

"You are aware that makes you an accomplice?"

"Like I care."

"And you do know that can make your stay here a lot longer, post poning your death sentence to look into your case further."

"If looking at your body means staying here, I'll stay."

"Well, I guess that's where our talk ends for today."

You then stood up and walked out of the room, leaving the officer with Jeff. As you walked off, Jeff stared at your ass, feeling a grin creep onto his face before the officer pulled him out from his seat.

As you walked out, you saw the lady from earlier waiting for you, drinking a red bull as she leaned against the wall.

"How'd it go?"

"Better than I thought... But he's, weird."

"Weird as in perverted? Yeah, we know. What'd he tell?"

"Well, I asked him about Abbie Grace, the 21 year old, and apparently he didn't kill her."

"Really? What did he do?"

"Well... He kidnapped her, raped her, not sure how many times though, and then gave her to a guy named Toby."

"Has to be our Toby," The woman mumbled before taking another sip of her red bull. "Did you ask him anything else?"

"No, just getting those answers were difficult."

"Pity."

RING!

"ALL PERSONNEL, PLEASE REPORT TO THE CAFETERIA FOR DINNER!"

"Welp that's us, let me tell you how this is gonna go," The woman said as she pushed herself off the wall and began to walk.

"The most dangerous and chaotic parts of the day is Lunch, Breakfast, and Dinner. All the pastas normally stick to their groups or by themselves, but during these parts of the day they're all trapped together like sardines. Fights breakout, stealing, and just too much shit goes on. When you're assigned your spot, stay there. If any of them try to get a reaction out of you or try to bother you, don't react. They're not your average criminals, and since they've never seen you before, that's definitely gonna happen today. Stand strong, stay quiet, and observe. Cops like us are merely meang to supervise them, not stop them, that's what Security is for."

"So, is that all I gotta worry about mainly?"

"For right now, yes. And don't leave the cafeteria until lunch is over. Some of them like to sneak out, and let's just say cops who wondered off, weren't found the same way they left. May that be mentally, or physically."

"Oh... So, stay in post, stay quiet, and don't leave."

"Yep, you pick up fast."

"Thank you, Officer...?"

"Mandel. I guess I never told you name, my apologies," Officer Mandel said before taking a another sip of her red bull, "Its been a long day."

‐---------‐-------------------------------------------------------

The moment the two of you walked into the cafeteria, you were met with a loud wave of noise.

"Shit, is it always this loud?" You asked Officer Mandel, who nodded her head in response.

The two of you then walked over to one of the security guards.

"Jesus! You look like awful, Sarah," The guard said with concern.

"I know right. Newbie needs their post."

"Oh, you see that guy over there," The guard said, pointing to a guy with stitches in the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah."

"You're posted in the front of the door behind him."

Looking at the man closer, your eyes widened with realization.

"Is that-"

"Liu Woods? Yeah, good luck," The guard responded before Officer Mandel slapped the back of his head.

"He's not that bad, don't listen to him."

Nodding in response, you took a deep breath as you walked towards the door.

All the inmates were divided into their respective groups. The two men you saw from earlier were sitting at their own table, but a man with part of his cheek removed was sitting with them as well, arguing with the one known as Tim.

"For the hundredth time, it's not my fault the bitch ran away!"

"You sure? Cause last time I checked, she was you last."

"*FUCK YOU* Whatever, Tim. The bitch most likely dead anyway."

You made sure to note that in your head for later. Tobias Erin Rogers, he was listed on your roster, and based on Jeff's info, you'll be meeting him very soon.

When you passed Liu to get to the door, you felt the atmosphere shift. It hit you like a truck, your heart raced as you took at glance at him.

His skin was so pale that he could've been considered sick. Since Jeff was paler than him, you just though it was family trait. But, the stitches on his face and hands made you think otherwise. In his file, it did mention that Jeff tried to kill him. An injury from the incident was mostly likely the cause for his apperance, but you kept your theories to yourself.

Much to you surprise, dinner went by pretty smoothly. But, you couldn't help but grow curious on why so many guards were coming in and out of the cafeteria. You knew better than to let your curiosity take over, but through dinner it became harder to fight.

"Something bothering you?"

Flinching at the voice, you looked down towards Liu, he was looking at you with a tilted head.

"What? Of course not."

"You sure? I ain't telling nobody," Liu persisted as he fully turned his body towards you.

You knew better than to respond, much to Liu's dissapointment.

"You interviewed my brother eariler, right?"

"Who's asking?'' You asked saracastically as you avoided eye contact.

"Me, who else?" Liu answered bluntly, a slight bit of attitude hidden in his tone.

"I don't know."

There was a moment of silence as Liu followed your eyes, realizing that you were looking at the cafeteria doors.

"The doors, huh?" Liu whispered to himself as a grin grew on his face. "You know, past those cafeteria doors is Solitary."

"Ok, why would I care?"

"Why would I care," Liu mocked.

"Jesus, just like his brother..." You thought as you rolled your eyes in annoyance.

"Hey, can you do me a favor?"

"No."

"It might benefit you," Liu said in teasing manner.

You didn't say a word, but you did raise an eyebrow with interest.

"Jeff stole shit from my cell before he got sent to solitary. You convince him to give me my shit back, and I tell you what I know about Candy Head."

"Candy Head?" You asked confused before realization hit you. "You have something to do with Abbie Grace's case?"

"Nah uh, uh, uh, get me my stuff back first," Liu answered bluntly, sending you a glare.

Something wasn't adding up. Jeff told you that he gave Abbie to Toby, but how did Liu fit into any of this? Maybe her disappearance isn't as cut and dry as you thought.

Looking around, you let out a sigh.

"I'll think about it."

Liu nodded his head in understanding before turning back around.

"Wait. How'd you know I'm on her case?"

"Stuff. First."

Letting out a groan, you lightly flinched as a loud ring echoed across the room.

"DINNER'S OVER! BACK TO YOUR CELLS!"

As the inmates got rallied up, Officer Mandel walked up next to you.

"So, how'd it go?"

"I don't know what that file said, but Liu is anything but charming. It was like I was dealing with Jeff all over again, just without the pervsion."

"You sure it was Liu?"

"Hm? What you mean?"

"You'll see. Now, the inmates are getting brought back to their cells, but our job isn't over just yet," Mandel said before beckoning you to follow her. "You'll be interviewing Toby in an hour or two, until then, I need you to look over the testimonals of their previous victims who survived."

"Their?"

"You said Jeff didn't kill her, right?"

"Right."

"So, there's the chance that Toby did. Toby didn't work alone, he worked with those two guys we saw earlier. I want you to get familar with their methods, and I want you to understand this very clearly," Mandel said before stopping in her tracks. "These people are dangerous, they will hurt you if given the chance. After today, you're not gonna have another officer in the room with you. I best not find out that you got hurt because you wanted to be fucking stupid."

Placing a hand on your shoulder, Mandel looked at you with a look you couldn't decscribe. "You're young, and you got so many years ahead of you, so listen to my advice. Listen to the files, and don't ever, I mean ever, go into solitary. I saw you looking at it earlier so I'm shutting the idea down now."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Wonderful. Now, while you were interviewing Jeff, I decided to hand pick the evidence and testimonials that mostly involved Toby. You're not going to meet Brian and Tim for a while, so don't worry about them."

Nodding your head, you looked at the door labeled "Intern 1."

"Oh, and heads up. The voice recordings are really dark, so, good luck," Mandel whispered to you before patting your back. "I'll get you when Toby's ready."

"Ok."

As Mandel left you alone, you took a deep breath as you opened the door.

The room was bright and clean, a decently sized desk placed in front of you with a computer on it, but it was also covered in various files. In the corner was an old box TV with a VHS and CD player, with a chair placed in front of it.

The room wasn't bad by any means, but it gave you an odd vibe.

Taking a seat at the desk, you decided to look at the different files.

Most of them were detailed descriptions of various crimes scenes related to Toby or the proxies in general, but under all the files was a VHS labeled "Elizabeth Todd's Testimony."

Since you didn't want to spend lord knows how long reading papers, you stood up from your seat and made your way to the TV, placing the VHS into the player before taking a seat infront of the TV. The TV took a while to process the cassete, but once it did, a woman appeared on the screen, the date April 26th, 2008 resting in the top right hand corner.

The girl looked about 19, dark skinned with big curls rounding around her face, fairly skinny but you weren't exactly sure due to her hoodie covering most of her frame, but the thing that you took notice of the most was her eyes. They lacked any sort of life, giving you an uneasy feel as she stared past the camera, implying that someone was in front of her.

"Your testimony will be recorded and kept for evidence, would you like to remain anonymous? If not, please state your name," A light voice said behind the camera.

Pausing for a few moments, the girl looked down to her hands before looking back up to the officer infront of her.

"My name is Elizabeth Todd," The girl started, her voice meek and low as she spoke.

"Would you mind telling us what happened on the day of the incident?"

"...It was my freshman year of college. I didn't know anyone, but I made some friends within the first semester."

Leaning back into your chair, you took notice of Elizabeth's body language. She fidgeted with her hands as she spoke, and always kept her gaze down, rarely looking up at the officers. She appeared nervous. You decided to keep note of that as she continued to speak.

"When spring break came around, me, Lilian, Austin, and Kevin decided to take a camping trip in tye woods near our campus. We took a bunch during the fall so we were pretty familiar with the area. But, when it came to us planning the trip, I always felt like something was going to go wrong..."

Elizabeth's voice cracked as she spoke, causing her to swallow her spit as she shook her hands, trying to keep her composure.

"Nobody listened though, saying I was paranoid even though we went there countless times before. So, we went anyway. Kev and Lilian were setting up a fire while me and Austin were setting up tents. Austin and I were dating at the time, so when Lilian and Kev weren't looking, we wondered off."

Snapping her fingers, Elizabeth continued.

"Austin and I were making out against a tree not too far from our campsite, fucking in the woods was on our spring break bucket list after all. But, before we could do anything I felt my heart drop. You know that feeling when you know something is wrong but you just don't know what?"

"Yes, I've felt it countless times while on patrols," The officer responded, which helped in calming Elizabeth's nerves.

"Well, I got that feeling. We stopped and looked around but nothing was there. But, it was really quiet, no crickets, no owls, just silence..."

Elizabeth paused, pulling at her sleeves as spoke, her eyes starting to water. "It all happened so fast..."

"It's ok, your words will help us in bring your friends justice," The officer said softly, placing a hand on Elizabeth's.

"Next thing I knew I was running. Austi's blood was all over me, but I don't remember what happened. Once I got back to the campsite, Kev and Lilian were roasting marshmallows at the fire..."

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

"Done fucking, yet?" Lilian teased as she placed her marshmallow on her cracker, turning around with a cheeky grin.

But, that grin quickly fell as her eyes fell on Elizabeth, wearing only a T shirt as blood stained her body.

"What happened...?" Kevin asked, eyes wide.

"He's gone...," Elizabeth responded, looking down at her blood stained hands before looking back up at the two. "We gotta leave. Now."

Without asking anymore questions, Kevin grabbed the keys to the car as Lilian helped Elizabeth stand.

"Are you hurt?" Lilian asked as she walked with Elizabeth.

"He's gone, Lily...He's gone."

"I know, I know."

"Lily, call the cops, tell them what's happening!" Kevin said as he led the group, flashing his flashlight at any sudden noise.

"Once we get to the car," Lily said.

But, Lilian and Elizabeth watched as Kevin's flashlight fell to the floor, being followed with the sound of a loud thump.

Lying infront of them was Kevin's body, a hatchet cutting through the middle of his head as he stared at the two.

"No no no no no no no," Lilian mumbled as she gripped on Elizabeth, backing up slowly as she did.

"BULLSEYE!" A cheerful voice yelled.

Stepping out from the bushes, a man with bright orange goggles appeared in the light, taking the hatchet out of Kevin's skull as he admired his work.

"Big guy aren't *KOO KOO* ya? No *SUCKY* wonder you were so easy to hit," The man stuttered out, his head twitching from side to side as he joked, the loud cracking of his neck echoing throughout the forest.

Frozen in shock, Elizabeth looked towards Lilian, who was just as frozen as she was.

"Damn... You two sure *WOW* are pretty," The man spoke, turning his attention towards the two girls. "I've never *SHOO* had a girlfriend before," The man continued before his gaze darkened, his body language becoming more hostile as he took out his other hatchet. "Mind giving me a chance?~"

Without wasting a moment, Lilian grabbed Elizabeth's hand before running off, causing the man to chase after them.

"We gonna split up," Lilian said.

"Huh?"

"It's better if at least one of us survives. You go left, I go right. We're going to have to get Kev's keys and phone."

"No, no please."

"It's fine, if I don't come back, leave without me. Now go!"

Lilian quickly ran to the right, jumping over a few bushes in the process. Hesitating, Elizabeth stumbled over a few branches as she ran the left, separating the two.

"Jeez, are they *KOO KOO* really that stupid?" Toby mumbled, tapping his chin with his hatchet as he looked both ways. "Tits or thighs...tits or thighs... Tits," Toby declared, looking to the right.

Running through the woods, Elizabeth saw the light from Kevin's flashlight in the distance. Picking up speed, Elizabeth felt her heart drop as Lilian's screams echoed throughout the woods, causing bird to fly up from their nest as it echoed.

"Lily," Elizabeth mumbled, staring in the direction of where Lily ran. "No. Get the keys, get the keys."

Standing over Kevin's body, Elizabeth felt nausea fill up her body as she examined his features. His once bright brown eyes now laid dull, staring at Elizabeth as his mouth laid open. Searching his pockets, Elizabeth felt a chill go down her spine as she caught a feel of his skin, painfully cold.

"I'm sorry Kev, I'm sorry," Elizabeth repeated as she pulled Kevin's keys and phone from his pocket. "I'm so sorry."

Standing up, Elizabeth decided not to take the flashlight, not wanting to risk being seen by the man who was chasing them.

Saying one last goodbye to her friend, Elizabeth ran in the direction of where their car was parked. But, as she ran, she could hear the sound of twigs being snapped.

The sounds came in short but consistent burst. He was following her, mocking her.

"I can see you~" Toby teased, letting out a chuckle as he watched Elizabeth stop for a moment.

Brian would always scold Toby for wasting time on victims, saying that too much time on one could lead to another escaping. But, Toby never listened. Having been a proxy for only a few months, the bosses were starting to grow quite fond of him, much to Tim's dismay.

But, this task was different. This was his first solo mission, and a surprisingly easy one too. Stalk the campers, kill them, dispose of their bodies, and go back to the cabin, easy, right? Well, maybe he should've listened to Brian's advice.

The moment Toby spoke, Elizabeth booked it, running much faster than she normally did.

"Fuck, *LOOKIE* she's fast,"Toby mumbled, chasing after her.

Reaching the car Elizabeth shakily pulled the keys out from her pocket, attempting to open the car door as Toby gained on her.

"Please-please-please, God please!" Elizabeth begged.

As the door opened, Elizabeth quickly jumped in, slamming the key into the holder as the car started up.

But, just before she could slam on the gas, a hatchet was flown as her window, causing glass to shatter on her. Luckily, the hatchet didn't touch her, her dodging just in time for it to land on the seat next to her.

Looking up in horror, Elizabeth watched as Toby appeared from the woods, out of breath as he came into frame. But, in his hand was Lilian, blood dripping from her body as Toby held her by her hair.

"Lilian...," Elizabeth mumbled.

Toby then tilted his head as he lifted Lilian's arm, waving it side to side with a sadistic grin.

She wasn't dead, not yet at least. Her chest was rising and falling slowly as Toby forced her to wave. But, blood was covering her face and neck, coming from the top of her head where Toby banged the handle of his hatchet into.

Staring at the two, Elizabeth came back to reality as quickly as she fazed out of it, slamming on the gas.

As she drove, in the corner of her eye she saw a piece of paper tied to the hatchet. Taking a look, she felt her blood run cold.

"If you survive, don't tell anyone what you saw. You'll see what happens if you :)"

She should tell the police? Lilian was still alive when she left, sure there was blood all over her, but maybe if she called the cops she could make it. Or was it too late?

Looking at Kev's phone, Elizabeth made her choice.

"911, what's your emergency?"

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

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth? Fuck, fuck," The officer said as Elizabeth's head slammed into the table, not responding for five minutes before her head fell.

"JOHN, GET A MEDIC!"

The interview stopped there, but the tape continued.

"Elizabeth experienced a seizure during her interview, dying shortly after. But, evidence at the crime scene helped is in determining a series of events," You read as words appeared on the TV. "The bodies of Kevin Howard and Austin Brown were found. Kevin was found with a gash in his head while Austin was found with his head cut clean off. Lilian Smith's body has yet to be found at the time of this recording."

Then, the video finished.

The interview didn't tell you much about Toby's personality, but it did give you a glimce into his cruelty. You decided to use this case as a baseline for the other files you would be looking into, wanting to find common patterns in his crimes and how he picked his victims.

Standing up, you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the deep dive you were about the take.

After an hour and thirty minutes, you were able to figure out common themes in Toby's crimes, and in two, you were able to get a solid idea on his behavior and personality.

You filled up three pages in your notebook with notes on Toby.

It seems that the proxies in general were very diverse in their victims, some of them being normal civilians while others could be big shot politicians or businesses owners. Toby in particular seemed to mostly target people in their early to late 20s, and most of them were normal civilians or low profiled criminals.

When it came to his behavior, a common theme was that many of Toby's male victims had much more brutal deaths than the women. Women's bodies were often found with a hatchet in the back of the head, or a gash in the side, but their deaths were often simple and quick. The men on the other hand were always found in almost unrecognizable ways. One body was found with his chest completely torn open, his intestines wrapped around his throat and blood smothered all over his face, a truly horrifying site.

The deaths in which his victims would have slowly started to give you ideas. It seems that Toby has some sort of vendetta against men, or more specifically, men with blonde hair. Men with blonde hair were often the ones found in unrecognizable ways. This was something that you would definitely do more digging on and try to get an answer when you're interviewing Toby. Now, you wouldn't say Toby has a soft spot for women, that clearly wasn't the case the more you looked into his behavior, but he did appear to be a lot more merciful and playful when it came to their deaths. Well, maybe not all of them.

You recall that in Toby's file that he would be more complient with people he found hot. Well, in a few cases, there had been women found days or even weeks after incidents. All of which were found dead and in horrible condition, implying that they were kept with him for a while. Maybe that was the case with Lilian.

Now, when it comes to Toby's personality, it's obvious he's mentally unstable. And his mood swings seem to be very self destructive. Often thrown into periods of mental exhaustion where he becomes a blank slate, too mentally out of it to bother with reality.

Despite being in his late 20's, it's been reported that he can be surprisingly teen like when it comes to his interest and some of his behaviors. In past interviews, he's expressed his love for sappy rom coms, and interest often seen in teenagers. It was something that you took interest in, and you decided to figure out if it was just how he is, or if there was a deeper issue at play here.

"Y/N," Mandel said as she opened the door, cutting you out of your train of thought.

"Yes Ma'am?" You responded, looking up from your notes.

"Toby's ready."

Nodding your head, you stood up from your seat and followed Mandel as she led you to the interview room.

"Figure anything out?" Mandel asked.

"A lot, actually. Figured out common patterns in crimes, and some stuff I would like ask hin about."

"Like what?"

"He seems to be much more aggressive men, blonde men to be more specific."

"Hmmm."

"May I ask you something?"

"Ask away," Mandel responded, opening another can of red bull.

"Do you know what happened to Lilian Smith?"

Mandel froze in place, causing you stop with her.

"Ma'am?" You said shakily, looking at Mandel with worry.

"I was on that case... Remember it well..."

"What happen?"

"A week after Elizabeth died, we found her body in a cabin nine miles into the forest... Her head was split in two, going into her neck," Mandel said, her voice shaking as she took another sip of her red bull. "She's the reason why we're trying to charge Toby with sexual assault, the way she was found..."

"Oh... I'm sorry for bringing it up, Ma'am..."

"No, no. It's alright, it's been nearly a decade. If we can officially charge him with it, the judge will be more willing to put him on death row."

Sighing in relief, you watched as Mandel stood up straight and continued to walk.

"I want to remind you, these guys are monsters. Be careful with Toby, he's a lot more unpredictable than Jeff. He might meek today, but tomorrow he could be wild."

"Advice taken."

"Anything else you figure out?"

"He doesn't seem to have a specific preference for victims, only a preference in death styles. I do find his treatment of women kind of interesting though."

"Why you say that?"

"Oftenly, his killings with them tend be more merciful, but, there's multiple times where they've been on the more gruesome side of things. You think I should ask him about it."

"I don't see why not, but don't ask him up front, a lot of the inmates are stubborn and aren't going to give you any favors."

Next thing you knew, you were in the hallway meant for interrogations. You weren't sure why, but the vibe was completely different than last time you were in the area.

"Room 111 is Toby's. Remember what I told you."

"Yes ma'am."

"Oh, also. After Toby, you're gonna be on your own for the rest of your shift. I'll check up on your every now and again, but that's about it."

"What? What am I supposed to do?"

"Look into your other inmates cases. You still Tim, Brian, Ben, Jeff, and Liu to look into. If you stay in your office, you'll be fine."

"...Ok."

Nodding your head, Mandel turned the corner, leaving you alone in the silent hallway.

"111...111...there."

Opening the door, the room was no different than the last one you were in. Table in the middle, a chair on each side, bright lights, nothing new. One thing you did notice was that this part of the prison didn't have any cameras, or computers. You thought it was just the hallways, but it didn't make sense on why they wouldn't be present in an interrogation room.

Taking a seat, you pull out your notebook, looking over the various notes you made. You considered asking questions, but then you remembered what Mandel said.

"Ask them the questions on the paper, nothing else."

You couldn't deny the sketchiness of it all. Yes, you understood why they'd be so strict with who they let in and what they'd ask, they are harboring America's most notorious serial killers after all, but some of the questions didn't even matter. Trying to gain trust is one thing, but asking complete bullshit is something completely different.

"Why did you do it? Stubborn my ass, he would never answer that," You mumbled, reading each question on the paper. "What do you like to do? What does that have to do with anything?"

But, you quickly fell silent as the sound of footsteps echoes in the hallways.

CLICK! CRACK!

The sound of various cracks and clicks could be heard. The cracking of bones made your neck ich, and the sounds of the clicks caused you to grind your teeth together. It didn't help that the sound chains could be heard as well, moving side to side with every click and crack.

Taking a deep breath, your back straightened as the door opened.

Stabding in the door was three figures, two police officers holding onto the man in the middle. The man held a bored expression, his head angled downward as he looked around with his eyes. Much to your suprise, he was much shorter than you thought, maybe around 5'5, 5'6 if you wanted to push it. However, you couldn't help but stare at the injury on his left cheek. Pieces of skin were ripped out, showing his gums and teeth to the world. Not to be rude, but you were kind of glad he wore a muzzle like mask.

When his gaze met up to yours, the two of you made eye contact for a few seconds. Within those seconds, you saw his eyes widen, his eyes softening for just a moment before switching back.

"Cute...," He whispered, tilting his head to the side as a grin slowly formed on his face.

"Quiet," One of the guards said as they sat Toby down, bringing his arms up in order to chain them to the table.

"I wasn't *WOWIE* talking to you," Toby snapped back, rolling his eyes.

"Thank you, I got it from here," You said, earning a nod from the officers as one of them left the room, the other one quickly prompting themselves into the corner. "Hello Toby, I'm sure you know why I'm speaking with you today."

"*CLICK* Yeah."

"So, how have you been feeling recently?"

"Terrible!" Toby exclaimed, an irrated look on his face as he mumbled under his breath.

"Why is that?"

"Hmmm, let me *KOO KOO* think. Oh, maybe because I'm fucking here! Would you be happy and shit if you got caught?"

"I'm not exactly sure."

"Liar."

"I'm no liar, Toby. Now, may I be able to ask you a few questions about your cases?"

"Does it matter?"

"...Uh."

You quickly turned your head to the officer in the corner, who nodded their head in response.

"Uh yes! Yes, it does matter."

"...Fine."

"So. Before you were arrested, did you ever know someone named Abbie Grace?"

"Abbie Grace... Colored hair?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, why?"

"We were informed that you were involved with her disappearance."

"...Snitch. *FUCK* He owes me big time," Toby groaned, leaning back into his chair as he looked up at the ceiling.

"Hey, focus. Can you tell me what happened to her?"

"What if I don't wanna?"

"It's not up for negotiation."

"Aw, look at you toughening up."

"He isn't gonna tell me anything, isn't he?" You thought, doing your best to hide your irration. "Well, Toby. If you don't tell us anything, we can't charge you, but, if, or when, we get evidence on you, you're punishment will be more severe."

As you talked, you noticed a shift in Toby's mood.

"And I'm talking death row, Toby. Death. Row."

"I could get death row right now if I felt like it. Do you honestly think these chains can stop me from bashing your head in? Or from taking his gun and shooting you in that pretty head of yours?"

That was the first time he didn't stutter on a single word. No sudden words, no sudden tics, clear cut.

"You're alive because I'm letting you live," Toby said coldly, his eyes lacking any emotion as he stared into your soul. "Isn't that fun!" Toby suddenly cheered, leaning over as he stared at you wide eyes, a strange amount of joy written on his face.

"...I don't think we have the same definition of fun."

"You're so boring..."

"OK. How about this then."

"Hm?"

"Talk about yourself. What do look for when choosing your victims? How do you treat your weapons? Go crazy."

Both Toby and the officer looked at you in suprise.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Uh... What about *FLOWER* me exactly?"

"What did you like to do when you were a kid?"

"...I was in and *CRACK* out of hospitals a lot... Whenever I was out, I would *LOOKIE LOOKIE* go play in the woods with my sister," Toby said. "I hated being home..."

There were two things you took note of. The fact that Toby has a sister, and that he didn't like being home.

"You have a sister?"

"Had."

"Oh... What was she like?"

"She was the best. *BIRDIE* She'd always take care of me, stop kids from picking *CLICK* on me...and always made sure I was ok."

"She seemed nice."

"The nicest," Toby said, his eyes softening as he dazed off. "What else?"

"How do see this...hobby of yours?"

"It's a job, not a hobby."

"Hm. What do you hate most about it?"

"My *CLICK* co-workers."

"Why's that?"

"Tim is always yelling at me about something. *COOKIE* You fucked up on this mission! You never shut up! Mehmehmehemehmeh! And *SHOOT* Brian is just there! Sometimes he gets on me too, and other times he's on Tim! *TICK TOK* Like hello, pick a side!"

To be honest, you were surprised by Toby's words. Back at the Academy, Gibbons would always remind you that every criminal was human, so they would and behave as one. Even though you were considered very skilled, sometimes you forget this simple fact, that even the smartest or most dangerous of criminals, can crack.

The way Toby described them sounded like a worker talking shit about their boss in an office. Now you couldn't help but wonder how Brian and Tim would describe each other.

"That seems annoying."

"Finally someone gets it!" Toby exclaimed. But, after he spoke those words, you watched as he slowky looked at you, a faint blush forming on his face as he sent you a smile. "You know what, I like you."

You felt a chill go down your spine as you stared at him. Yes he called you cute, but the way he was looking at you, you couldn't help but feel concern.

"Um. OK, anyways... Did you have any favorites?"

"Favorites?"

"Yeah. Whenever you did your job, did you have a set preference that you could follow or no?"

"Hmmmm... I hate open spaces. *WOWIE* The noise, the people, the attention... *FUCK* I hate it."

"That explains the locations. Maybe I can figure out a pattern in Toby's preferences that can give me more clues to Abbie's case."

"I've always liked the woods, especially the campers. They're always to unaware. *CHICKEN* I once killed a guy who was half way through fucking *FUCK* his girlfriend, oh you *CAN'T *should've seen her face when I bashed his brains in!" Toby exclaimed before moving his up into the air and quickly slamming them down into the table, looking you dead in the eyes with a manic expression, "Just like that! She had your exact face!"

Least to say, you were dumbfounded. This guy was energetic, loud, and manic, the way he talked about his murders held so much life, so much passion, so much pride. The joy in his voice almost made you forget that you were talking to a criminal, and a manipulative one too. Despite his tone, you couldn't tell if he was being genuine, or at least what everything he was saying was true. If he fell for your trick, maybe he wasn't as aware as Mandel said.

"Oh...um. Is that all?"

"Maybe, maybe not. I don't wanna talk anymore."

"Wait, we're not done yet, we still have to talk about Abbie."

Toby sent you glare as his body tense up, his once playful energy gone.

"I know you don't care about death row, but, if Jeff gives us more evidence against you, the judge may consider lightening his sentence, while you, will get a more severe one. Maybe not death row, but still worse than Jeff's."

"So you want me to snitch."

"I wouldn't say that. I don't really care who tells me what happened to Abbie, I just wanna know."

Toby stared off to the side, assumingly in thought.

"Getting Candyhead was an order from the boss...She's *OW* the daughter of a powerful business *CRACK* owner that didn't keep his end of the deal with the boss. So, he had Jeff capture her, and then Jeff *POW* gave her to me to keep her *WOW* hostage."

"Wait... She's?" You mumbled. "Toby, is Abbie dead?"

"I don't know who told you she was."

"Wait. If she's alive, then we have to look over everything!"

You turned around the officer in the corner, who was just as surprised as you were.

"Miss, who's the head of the Abbie Grace case?"

"Detective Adrea Banklin."

"Can I meet with her after this?"

"I'll have to see if she's right now."

"Ok. Toby, our interview ends here."

"Ok~"

Standing up from your seat, you quickly made your way out of the room, keeping the door open as another officer ran in.

"Abbie's alive. But, how? She's been missing for over a year, how can she survive that long," You spoke to yourself as you rushed to your office.

As you opened the door to your office, you rushed to your desk, pulling out the Abbie Grace file from your cabinet.

"OK, ok. Calm down, Y/N, calm down. I understand it's your first real case, but stuff like this happens, so calm down," You said softly as you took some deep breaths. "OK, OK. I don't even have all the files on Abbie yet, so what should I do now..."

Then, it hit you.

"Liu."

Looking into the hallways, you, quickly made you way towards the inmates quarters, making sure to hide from other officers.

"Oh my God, what am I doing, what am I doing? Mandel is going to kill me, Gibbons is going to kill me. But, if it's solve the case, it's fine."

The inmate quarters were dark. You could see figures moving around, but since it lights out, the power in the quarters was out.

"How am I even going to get in?"

"Intern."

"AH!"

Turning around, the officer from earlier was behind you, giving you a suspicious look.

"Oh, you scared me."

"What are you doing over here?"

"...Just wanted to look around."

"...mhm. Well, Banklin is here at the moment, but she's preparing to go home. She's willing to speak now, but she won't wait long."

"That's great! Can you take me to her, please?"

The officer merely nodded her head before walking off.

"Liu can wait," You whispered to yourself before following after her.

"She's at the end of the hallway."

"OK, Thank you, officer..."

"Cherry, Officer Cherry."

"Y/N L/N."

"Pleasure. Also, if you're gonna meet with inmates, be more discrete."

"...How did you-"

"Been there, done that. Got caught up in a deal with Ben, was his bitch for months...You learn a thing or two," Officer Cherry said before walking off, leaving you alone.

You quickly made your way to Banklin's office. Opening the door, you saw Banklin placing various files into a bag.

Banklin was a tall woman with long brown hair, she seemed quite put together despite the stressful work environment.

"Detective Banklin?"

"Hm? Oh, you must be the intern."

"Yes, um. I've gotten some important information about the Abbie Grace case."

"From?"

"Toby, ma'am."

"Rogers? That man is a bipolar punk, I don't trust a word that leaves his mouth."

"I cam see why, but he implied that Abbie is still alive."

Banklin froze as she looked up at you, dropping the file in hand.

"Alive?"

"Yes, when he was talking about her, he talked in a present tense, and when I asked if she was actualky dead, Toby said that he never said she was."

"...It does make sense, we never did find her body, " Banklin said, rubbing her chin as she looked at the floor? "But, we've never had a case where one of their victims survived for more than a month."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but Toby has a pattern of keeping women for long periods of time before killing them."

"I've noticed, but in each of those cases, they didn't live past a month on average when we conducted their autopsy."

"So we're just going go let this info go?"

"I'm not saying that, I'm saying it's unreliable. Toby is far from stupid, and he tends to withhold info. He claims that he'll 'never be a snitch'."

"This claim can change this entire case, Miss. Banklin. Even if Toby is lying, what if he isn't? He sounded genuine when he spoke, and if she's alive out there, why should we just wait and see?"

"Listen here. This is your first time working with these Motherfuckers, you don't know anything about them. We asssigned this case to you because it's still on going. If you fuck this up and put this case in jeopardy, you're internship is done. I don't care what Joesph says."

All you could do is stare at Banklin, frozen in place as she closed her bag. You couldn't deny the fact that you often get way over your head, maybe being labeled the best officer in the academy made you a little over confident, but you didn't want to just throw this possibility out of the way. You didn't have a solid conclusion to Toby's true behavior, you still needed a bit more time on that bit, but until then, you were going to trust a few of his words.

"I'm sorry, ma'am."

"Don't bother. Abbie's case is the last case we have regarding Jeffery. Listen to Jeffery's words before Toby's, Jeffery rarely lies to us."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good, now if you excuse me, I have a family to go home to," Banklin said, pushing past you so she opened the door. "Oh, also. Stick to what we assign you. We don't only want you to not fuck anything up, but it's also to protect you. Some of these cases are extremely classified and cannot get released to the public. I hope you understand."

"No, no I do."

"Good, see you in the morning."

Then, she was gone. You didn't even realize that you were holding your breath.

After meeting Banklin, you had come to the conclusion that no one was going to take your theories seriously. But, maybe there was someone who would.

Checking the hallways, you quickly dashed back to the inmate quarters. As you ran, you remembered a lesson that you had with Gibbons.

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

"Wrong!" Gibbons said for the hundredth time.

"What?! How is that wrong? The suspect obviously lied!" You yelled, pointing down at the paper, "Look, you see the inconsistencies in her statements."

"Y/N, in this field, not everything is simple."

"Yeah, I know that."

"So... Let's look over this paper one last time," Gibbons said as he sat in front of you. "The detective is pushing the suspect. When under stress, people will either do two things. They'll either confess, or make someone hear what they want to hear. With this in mind, what do you think is going on here?"

Looking down at the paper, you did your best to come up with an answer. Before being put under stress, the suspect's story was adding up, but, the moment the detective put them under pressure, their claims fell apart.

"They're telling the detective what they wanna hear?"

"Nope!"

"What?! What do you mean no?"

"Before the suspect was put under pressure, their story was adding up perfectly with the crime, but, the moment they were put under pressure, everything fell apart. This tells you two things. 1, they're not alone. They're most likely being used to take the fall, explaining the perfect line up. And 2, they indirectly confessed that they were innocent."

"You got that from this alone?"

"When you're in this job for as long as I have been, you pick up on things quickly. But, this, situations like this is what makes solving cases so difficult. When you do your internship, I want you to keep this in mind."

"Keep what in mind?"

"If someone is willing to tell you info about a case, take it, especially if it's from a snitch. A snitch is more willing to throw their friends under the bus for than own gain, making them more reliable than a direct source. "

"What if I can't talk to them?"

"Find a way. Roosevelt is Big, many places to hide. Be smart, not crazy."

"So you want me to break the law?"

"If you can make look legal, than yes."

"...You're the worst cop ever."

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

"Guess I'm the worse cop ever," You muttered, taking a deep breath as you stood infront of the door separating you from the inmates.

Looking to the right, you noticed a key pad with various numbers and letters.

"Shit... uh, how about, 1 2 3 4 5?"

"WRONG, 6 DIGIT CODE" was written in bold letters.

"Six digits?" You questioned, clenching your eyebrows togethers as you thought. "It can't be something simple, but what if it's so simple that people wouldn't even consider using it?"

Then, it came to you.

"Wait...Roosevelt Federal Prison, Creepypasta Ward? R F P C P W."

CLICK!

"Oh thank god."

Openng the door, you felt the atmosphere shift as you took a step into the room. Due to it being curfew, it was pitch black in the ward, leaving you to rely on the sounds of various voices.

"Shit, why did I do this, why did I do this? If I'm caught in here my internship is done. Can I get arrested for this? Probably. Well, too late now..."

You weren't exactly sure where to look for Liu. You weren't sure if he was on the bottom or top bit, or if he even had a roommate. You knew better than to turn on your flashlight, but, you started to feel the consequences of you actions. Maybe you should get you impulse under control.

Caught up in your thoughts, you failed to notice the figure creeping up behind you. However, you were able to hear the sound of faint breathing.

Whipping your head around, your gun was already in hand, but, the figure grabbed your wrist and covered your mouth, immobilized you.

Adjusting to the dark, you were able to make out a pair of green eyes. You weren't exactly sure if it was Liu, but, the feeling of stitches rubbing against your hand confirmed your suspicions.

"Liu?" You whispered, tightening your grip on your gun.

Liu remained silent as he stared at you.

"What do you want."

It wasn't a question, it was a demand.

"I'm accepting your deal. If I get whatever it is Jeff took from you, you'll tell me what you know about Abbie."

You couldn't see his face, but Liu looked down at you confused. What deal? He did recall slipping in and out of conciouness during lunch, sharing a few words with you before blanking out once more. But, his face quickly turned into annoyance as he imagined Sully interacting with you. The little bastard had to have made a deal with you.

"...Ok," Liu answered blankly, letting go of your wrist.

"What does Jeff have that you want me to get. "

Liu stayed silent for a few moments. What was it that Jeff took this time? One of his guns? Nah, he hates the noise. His bandages? Maybe. So, Liu only shrugged, much to your disappointment.

"If I get you whatever Jeff has, you'll tell me about Abbie, right?"

"...Yeah, yeah, sure."

"Promise?"

"I'm not saying it again," Liu said, sending you a glare.

You quickly shrieked back, nodding your head in understanding before sliding past him.

Feeling around for another key pad, you quickly entered the pass code. Squeezing through the door, you let out the biggest sigh of relief, but you quickly felt that relief be replaced with regret.

"I just made a deal with a fucking inmate," You said, your eyes wide in shock. "What kind of cop am I? Best at the Academy my ass..."

Little did you know, this was only the beginning. The start of your fall from grace.

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x y/n #yandere creepypasta #creepypasta x you #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x y/n #yandere jeff the killer #jeff the killer x you #jeff the killer x reader #yandere ticci toby #ticci toby x you #jeff the killer x y/n #yandere creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta au #.Prison AU #homicidal liu x y/n #homicidal liu x reader #Yandere homicidal liu

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