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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 9 months

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Reign down on me - Part 5

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes

-🐺-

You fought back a sneeze, eyes going teary as your body pathetically fought the sand that had risen and invaded the wind. Suddenly you were finding yourself wishing for the ridiculous glasses that Ghost and the rest of the boys had been wearing earlier. Though you recognised that even if you had some of those monstrosities, it’d do you no good by that point. There was barely enough light to see by, the little half moon above was winking down and barely casting much of a glow over the night sky.

Price had dragged you all into a briefing room earlier that day and gave you all the run down on a new target, Razin, a man suspected of manufacturing bombs for the militia you were after. From there you were shown pictures of him, raising your brows at his scrawny features, and given a little intel about the town you were now stalking through. Even at the time you’d quietly groaned at the mention of the little desert town, you hated having to put up with the sand getting caught in your fur and eyes, not to mention how it made it so much more difficult to scent things as well.

The only benefit of the place was that the houses were small and usually that meant that there wouldn't be very much to sweep. That is if it weren’t built over a tunnel or extensive secret basement, which Price was heavily theorising could be a possibility.

From what you’d been shown it was only supposed to be two floors tall, with a roof that allowed for people to be positioned on top of it, set against the backdrop of the rocky hills beyond. It was close to the outskirts of town but still enclosed by other houses, positioned on the side that crept nearest to the small river that snaked nearby before disappearing into the rocky outcrops beyond. It would’ve been a sweet little place if it weren’t owned by the chef boyardee of bombs.

“Y’good, Pup?” Ghost murmured through the comms.

You looked over at the spot you knew he was positioned at, secreted away on the balcony to the right of you with his rifle, and huffed out a breath. Define ‘good’, you thought. It’d been a while since you’d been so far away from him. Now that you’d been hiding out by the open window for a few hours at least, you’d been blasted with sand and bored to death enough to make you want to cling desperately onto your handler’s leg and beg him to go home.

“Affirmative,” you whispered back instead.

“Good. We’ve got movement on the road outside of town - you two might be set to move soon, so get ready.”

“Yes, Sir,” you answered.

You rolled your tired shoulders and looked over at Soap, noting that his dark eyes were still flitting from the target location and to you, watching carefully like a fretful horse. He still looked barely more comfortable left alone with you than when you first arrived. The man had been none too pleased when Ghost explained his plan on arrival, frowning when he was told about your little team up. Couldn’t be helped when Soap was the best equipped to deal with explosives and someone had to play sniper and keep watch.

Of course Soap had continued to train with you in the week leading up to then, slowly getting better at not flinching whenever you got close to him. However he’d never had to be around you without Ghost as a buffer yet. Now that it was just you both in the small room across from the house, he was the most tense that you’d ever seen him. Not that he was trying to be obvious about it, he clearly felt he was being sly with his darting looks and slow sighs. For that you gave him some slack.

“I’m thinking the window on the right side is the best entry point for me,” you said, looking meaningfully across at him. “I can sweep the first floor while you go around to the side door and I can make sure it's unlocked for you.”

“You wanna go in alone?” Soap questioned, narrowing his eyes at the house.

“It’s what war dogs are for,” you shrugged. “No point waiting for you to come in with me, I can get in and check the place out quietly before you come clomping in.”

“I don’t clomp,” Soap snorted, giving you a withering look.

“Sure, tell that to all your heavy gear and your big boots. Trust me, if I go in and get a feel for the place then I can tell who or what we need to watch out for before we go sniffing out the target.”

“And you say ‘What’ meaning?” he questioned.

“Other hybrids, bombs, guns…etcetera,” you listed, shifting your sights to the window you’d pointed out.

“You can tell all that just from going in and getting a whiff of the front room?” he asked dryly.

“Well I can’t give exact information, but I can give a good guess. It’s just like when we’ve been training, if you let me get ahead of you then I can check the place out first and let you know what you’re up against. That’s how I keep myself useful.”

“Ghost, you good with that?” Soap asked doubtfully, frowning over at the balcony from the corners of your vision.

“The house has been quiet enough,” Ghost noted. “If Pup wants to go in first, I trust their judgement.”

“Pup’s way it is then,” Soap grunted, almost absolving himself of anything that might happen. “I’ll wait for you to open the door, furball.”

You nodded your head, forcing down your instinct to growl, keeping your focus on the window instead. You’d show him who was a fucking furball.

This was it. It wasn’t lost on you that this job would prove to the team that you could be an asset - not just a stupid wolf that ploughed through training exercises. Someone that could be used as an effective tool if given the chance.

This was your chance. You anxiously ran your hands down your vest, breathing in measured lungfuls of air while you took stock of your inventory and grounded yourself. There were three knives held securely in the right side, new ones that Ghost had gotten for you ahead of the mission, and a small first aid kit and canteen stashed in the main pockets on your left. You were wearing your gloves, and your ear protection was on and looped round your ears, the rubber circlets had thankfully stopped feeling as aggravating against your fur now that they’d been on for a few hours. They always pressed up so uncomfortably against your helmet, though it was always better to face a little discomfort than being killed by a shot you might’ve avoided.

“The car’s approaching the building, this is it.”

The old guard troupe would be coming out and a new one would be entering, however as the intelligence operatives had noted in their previous findings, the 2am group would never get to their posts on time. They'd opt instead to routinely drink and talk shit on the roof, presumably thinking that Eugene wouldn’t know about it, and would stick around for roughly a half hour before sluggishly making their way to where they should be - giving you and Soap time to get in, search for your target and hopefully get out before anyone was any the wiser.

You heard the engine grumbling through the winding streets long before it reached the other side of the house, but as soon as the headlights illuminated the street over, they cut almost instantly with the noise. Doors slammed and snide voices carried out into the night, mingling together in two distinct groups, one set growly and tired and the others playful and light. It was impossible to make out exactly what they were saying, but you were sure that the group leaving were probably being very obvious about how happy they were to be getting the fuck out.

“G’on, Pup,” Ghost murmured. “Make me proud.”

You shook your head and paid no more mind to the group on the other side, you were going to move forward out of view of them anyway. With Ghost’s encouragement strengthening your confidence, you were eager to press on. You nodded your head toward Soap as a ‘see you in there’ gesture and jumped out the window, stealing your way through the street and into the next window ahead. It was easy for you to spring up, tilting your tail a little to the left so that it wouldn’t smack against the frame.

As soon as you were inside you spotted the dancing shadows of the men toward the front of the building and found a decent hiding spot behind a side wall to wait in so that the new group of guards could pass by you. Your tail swished idly as you waited for them to come in and your ears twitched, listening out and rotating like little satellites as you took in your surroundings. The livingroom and kitchen were all one room, but there was a hallway to the bottom left that would allow entry into the house and up to the stairs beyond.

The guard opened the door before long, letting the cool air breathe a sigh into the house, and luckily they trudged up the stairs in short order. Their steps were muffled and soft, attempting to be light so that their boss wouldn’t be alerted. You heard them all the same. Your ears could pick up so much more than any of theirs could, which means you knew the exact moment you were safe to launch yourself to the other side of the room and get the door for Soap. He raised his brows at you when you made a sweeping motion with your hand to welcome him in.

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” he whispered. “How many guests we got?”

“We got about six men tonight I think. No hybrids - you’ll be glad to know,” you said just as quietly, grinning when you caught his guilty wince. “Can smell the explosives, think Price was right on his basement theory, they don’t seem like they’re upstairs.”

“Y’hear that Ghost?” Soap said, purposefully looking away from you.

“Copy. I’ll keep an eye on the guards, you two track down that sly bastard,” Ghost answered, growly voice tickling your ears.

“Lead the way the way then, Pup.”

You nodded and lifted your head in the air, getting a good feel for the scent trail then turned toward the hall. The plastics clung at your nose and tugged you toward the stairs, but you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you needed to get below. Every instinct was telling you that you needed to go there, that someone’s steps had passed over them, but they hadn’t ascended.

A soft growl tore itself from you. You needed to get closer to the source. You knelt down and took a tentative sniff of the floor, the steps creaked lowly like a clearing throat as you shifted your weight onto them. Bingo.

“The fuck are you doin’?” Soap hissed.

You tilted your head up at him and smiled sweetly.

“The nose knows,” you shrugged.

“What’re you on about?”

Soap’s eyes were so wide you thought he might explode. You would’ve giggled if you weren’t conscious of how much noise you’d made already. No, it was important to try to be as quiet as possible in those next few seconds.

You hooked your fingers onto the first step and pulled up, huffing out a breath as they turned out to be heavier than expected. Though in seconds the first three steps came away and rose up, revealing a concealed stairway below - leading down to the dingy basement. The smell continued through the shadows, air thick with that heavy plastic smell.

“Fuck me,” Soap breathed. “You can smell secret entrances as well?”

“Oh yeah, they always smell fishy,” you smirked.

“Jesus. Ghost’s humour is rubbin’ off on you,'' he groaned.

He had a point. Normally you weren’t one for pointless chatter, but you were in your element that day and after training so much with your new team you felt more relaxed than usual. Of course you weren’t operating under the assumption that Soap would be diving in front of bullets for you, but at the very least he had your back.

“We’re heading underground, Ghost. See ya on the other side,” Soap noted, patting you on the shoulder just like Ghost normally would.

You felt your tail give a slight swish against the backs of your legs.

“Copy that, Sergeant,” Ghost confirmed.

Ghost was quiet compared to usual, focused on his targets you figured. It spurred you on to focus too. You quietly slipped forward down the stairway, nose raised in the air as you proceeded. Soap followed at your rear, quietly closing the stairway and bathing you both in almost pitch darkness. There was only a little light to see by, its source hidden round the corner. Things smelled and sounded clear, but nonetheless you braced, ready to duck and dive if you needed to.

When you turned the corner however, there was no need for any quick exits. There was just another hallway with some candles stuck in hastily hammered in holders, the flames lazily flickering as the stale air kept them standing bolt upright. You frowned and pressed ahead, boots softly pressing into the runner carpets until you almost hit a chain, only just avoiding it as you’d caught the shine of it in the corner of your eye.

You stuck a hand out to your left and kept Soap behind you, narrowing your eyes so that he’d know to be quiet. He caught on fast, not saying a word as you took another careful sniff around the air. Among the scent of burning wicks and aged dust there was something else, something earthy. There was a low droning sound as well now that you focused, a bassy groan that drifted through the walls.

Hybrid, you mouthed. Attack dog.

Soap’s eyes narrowed and he raised the pistol he’d unholstered from his side, the silencer reaching out into the hallway and past your body. You stepped off to the right and allowed him to push forward and round the corner, watching with dull interest as he shot the wolf man that had been resting by the next candle. After a soft pop sounded the man slumped off to the side and left a smear of crimson as he went, eventually thudding to the ground and rattling the chain once he reached the floor.

“That’ll be the alarm system then,” you whispered.

“Just him? There’s not anymore?” Soap asked, looking round warily for other signs of life.

“Not that I can detect,” you said carefully, taking another cautious breath of air. “He’s in pretty bad shape though, probably been kept chained down here a while. Can’t imagine Razin would want the hassle of having to get by more than one hungry mouth on the way in.”

“Aye…probably not,” Soap said, lingering doubt heavy on his voice.

You turned and smiled to yourself, again wondering why the Sergeant was so afraid of your kind. He had a gun, two guns in fact - one strapped to his back. You and yours only had teeth and claws to defend yourself with. Every fight you went into was one that tipped your scales ever closer to death, yet he walked around sometimes like he was standing with the grim reaper himself when he found himself with you.

There was no point getting caught up over it though. You advanced forward again and rounded another corner, this time greeted by muffled voices and sounds of implements working away. You getting closer. You were overwhelmed by the scent of a new person, baring your teeth at the thick coal like scent. It flooded your system and set your vision alight, peripherals shrinking as your wolf instincts came rushing forward. You were ready to attack, ears pinned back and tail sinking low.

“Pick somethin’ up?” Soap murmured, voice sounding so loud in your sensitive ears you wanted to snarl at him.

However, knowing your target was so close by, you silently turned instead and let Soap get a good look at your face. He seemed to visibly pale when his eyes met yours, but quickly remembered himself, raising his gun and holding his position behind you. Had you been more lucid, you’d have congratulated him for not flying off like a scared bird.

However, you walked forward instead, sticking close to the walls and keeping yourself on high alert. It wasn’t long until you were greeted with the sight of a new entryway and the drowning scent of explosive materials. Your entire head was on fire, every little instinct screamed danger, but you followed your training and ignored the rising need to get away.You peered around instead, widening your eyes as you saw Razin right in front of you. He was working away with his back turned, too distracted by whoever he was speaking to on his tablet to be able to pay any attention to either of you.

Soap slunk next to you and looked around, mouth set in a grim line as he sized up the target. All around him, littering his workshop were multiple prototypes, tons of different kinds of bombs that Soap would know far more about than you. The only thing you knew for sure was that you’d have to be quiet, take down the target as fast as possible - that was the only way to know none of them would go off.

Soap gently patted your head to get your attention. Wait, he mouthed.

You wanted to snap at him, mouth watering in anticipation of a bite, eyes narrowing as his hand drew close to your throat. However you wrenched yourself away from him and breathed out as quietly as you could, anxiously glancing between Soap and Razin as you waited for your ok.

It took every ounce of self control just to stand there. Soap didn’t look like he was in any rush to let you move. He listened to the conversation instead, jaw set and head tilted while he kept you suspended in the shadows, right on the precipice of an attack. You just wanted to go, needed to fly through the room and tear at something.

The conversation between Razin and the deep voiced stranger on the ipad drew to a close before you lost it, ending with Razin cursing before swatting at the tablet and sending it flying. You followed the movement with your eyes and turned to Soap, almost barking with glee when he tightly nodded and gave you the go ahead to go capture your target.

You had no clue what curses Razin was shouting when you landed on top of him, but you could hazard a guess that they were some of the worst profanities he could muster. His face scrunched in fury and his whole body flailed as he fought to get you off of him, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t shake you off.

Your main priority was ensuring his hands couldn’t reach for anything and set something off, so as you secured yourself over him, you bit harshly into one of his arms and growled when he swatted at you with his other hand. Before he could do any real damage Soap came to your aid and wrenched Razin’s free hand behind his back, securing it in a cuff before taking the other arm from you and settling the other cuff round that one.

“Release,” Soap commanded, voice wavering as he caught your eyes.

Your vision was almost completely darkened, indicating to the last sane shred of you that you’d gone nearly completely feral. Every limb in your body shook and your back felt like a lightning rod as the familiar instinctual tremble worked its way through you. Maddox’s voice rattled in your ear, the ghost of him ever present when you found yourself losing to the wolf. You are an attack dog, you will bite, you will kill, this is the only way to survive. Bite mutt, kill! Do what you’re meant for, dog!

“Pup,” Soap said carefully, trying to maintain eye contact. “You good?”

You growled in response, watching with displeasure as Razin continued to struggle beneath Soap. You wanted to put a stop to it. Not part of the mission, you reminded yourself, internally struggling with the angry beast inside your head. Need this one alive.

“Pup,” Soap said again, voice a firm roar.

“Yes,” you snarled, shaking your head and backing off. “M’fine. Lets go.”

Kill, mutt!

You shook your head again, walking forward and dispersing any last traces of Maddox, fighting to regain control of yourself. Normally you weren’t so prone to falling back so badly on the wolf instincts, as much as you often did use them to get in the right headspace you were usually still in control of yourself.

Now you felt untethered. It felt as though any threat to you and the team had to be treated with the utmost hostility. And Razin was a threat. It had you frowning back at Soap, watching as he struggled to force Razin forward while his feet tried to plant against the floor. You growled when Soap was knocked back by him.

Protect. Mine. Kill threat.

You almost stopped in your tracks when the thought hit you. For once it wasn’t Maddox’s voice spurring you and forcing you to do terrible things, this wasn’t any outside voice at all. The low growl that rushed through your head like a chemical injection was your own. Normally your instincts kicked in for self preservation,your body doing whatever it needed to in order to get through a job alive. Now they were directed at Soap, more specifically, towards ending the struggling and kicking from the man he was holding.

“I’m going on ahead,” you said, voice pitching up as you rushed forward.

If you spent anymore time looking over at Razin and his flailing feet you were going to kill him. It wasn’t a speculation, it was a certainty. One that had you wide eyed and running terrified down the hall.

You reached the top of the stairs in record time, pausing at the closed exit to listen out for anyone that might be coming down on the steps above.

“Ghost, we’ve secured the target. Are we good to exfil?” you rasped, hearing Soap cursing as he manoeuvred the hallways a lot slower than you did.

“The men are finishing the last of their drinks, one of them went down already. You’ll need to take him out and get out of there as fast and quiet as you can,” Ghost supplied, voice level as usual.

“I can manage that. Soap, I’ll go find Razin’s buddy. You good to get him out?” you asked, looking back into the darkness for your answer.

“I’m almost through the hall, fashioned a little gag for the bastard so I reckon we’ll be good on the staying ‘quiet’ part. Go ahead, Pup, clear to move,” Soap answered, voice echoing through the halls and on your comms.

“Alright then.”

-🐺-

You were shaking terribly by the time you made it back to transport. Razin was properly secured now, hooded and gagged before being taken away to another section of the hold with an armed guard. He was safely out of view from your stabbing glare. Meanwhile Ghost and Soap ushered you toward the opposite corner, serious looks in both their eyes as they exchanged low whispers.

Your head was filled with cloying fog. All you wanted to do, for whatever reason, was to get close to Soap, but you feared him retaliating too much to be able to do it. You wanted to make sure he was alright, but even you weren’t sure why you were so obsessed about it. It was Soap afterall, he was a highly trained SAS soldier, he was fine.

Not to mention, when he’d seen your blood covered face come into view behind him in the safehouse, he’d almost screamed bloody murder. The last thing he needed was you to go barreling up to him. You swore you could hear his heart thumping even when you stood just across from him, it beat so loudly. It hadn’t eased much since then and getting to the plane either.

Mine. Safe? Hurt.

Your chest held a small flame, body keeping it roaring as you anxiously wanted to check Soap over. You could smell his blood, could smell the copper tang that was corrupting the soft sage of his usual scent. It burned at your nose and caused you to whine when you got close. Ghost’s hand prevented you from getting nearer.

“Pup,” Ghost said softly. “Pup, can you look at me?”

You tore your eyes away from Soap and dutifully looked up at Ghost. His face was still covered by his balaclava and his eyes were darkened from the black paint. You huffed as you focused on his pupils, taking in the spiced citrus and the sound of his infectiously steady pulse.

Your panting breaths eased.

“You did good, Pup. Kept Soap safe and took down Razin and got that guard. You did a very good job,” Ghost rumbled, petting between your ears as he normally did. “Can you come sit down for me?”

You nodded, feeling almost in a trance as you complied with his request. You sat on the solid bench next to your Lieutenant, stopping to anxiously look back at Soap, until Ghost firmly gripped your jaw and tilted your head back to him. You whined.

“Shh, Pup. Shhh. Just give me your attention for a sec, ok?”

You gave him a little growl, but as soon as the look in his eyes hardened, you hushed up immediately. Have to be good for him, you thought to yourself. You closed your eyes for a second, and continued to work on your breathing, calming down with each evening heartbeat. Ghost watched you the entire time, never letting his gaze wander even for a second.

“Good, Pup,” Ghost praised after a moment, making sure to pet your back and over your ears. “That’s my good Pup, listening so well. Now…Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

You froze at his question. Biting your lip when you knew he wasn’t going to let you get away with a lie.

“Soap’s bleeding,” you said simply, finally letting your eyes drop down to the floor. “Want to know he’s ok.”

Ghost tipped your chin back up with his hands. You could see his eyebrows were raised under the mask. You desperately wanted to look away again, but Ghost wouldn’t allow it. Soap snorted from behind your shoulder, he was still standing away from you both. His nervous steps across the metal were like their own heartbeat in your ears.

“I’m fine. The fucker bashed my nose in while he was strugglin’,” Soap explained. “A wee bit blood is nothing to get so upset over.”

You whined. You already knew logically that he was fine. It wasn’t your logical mind that was worked up though. Otherwise you’d be able to actually explain the problem to Ghost. However, as it was, you had no idea what the problem really was. All you knew was that Soap had been bleeding and you were absolutely beside yourself with worry over it.

Ghost seemed to have an idea though. He nodded to himself and petted your head for good measure, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder before he went to his pack. You watched his movements, cataloguing every step he took, trying to work out what he was doing. Sometimes when you got too worked up you’d get sent for a sleep, injected with a cocktail of drugs to force some calm into you.

Was Ghost going to knock you out?

You watched carefully as he pulled what looked like a bottle of water and a cloth from his bag instead. He untwisted the cap and carefully wetted the cloth, not letting too much liquid flood the material before he turned back to you.

“Stay still for me, darlin’. Keep your mouth closed,” he ordered.

You frowned, not sure what he was about to do until he began wiping at your face, smoothing the cloth over your skin until it turned red with the other men’s blood. He was cleaning you. The realisation had you untensing yourself and for a few moments longer you sat still and let Ghost work his magic until your face felt clean and light. All the grime was gone, your skin felt a little raw, but still it was better than before.

“Soap, you trust me don’t you?” Ghost said, putting the bottle down and looking over your shoulder.

The pacing behind you stopped.

“Not when you bring it up like that,” Soap retorted.

Ghost rolled his eyes.

“Come sit down.”

“Why?” Soap asked suspiciously.

“Just come.”

It took a second, but soon Soap complied, coming to rest beside Ghost. Ghost wasn’t someone to argue with, even to other humans. You saw Soap now, pupils dilating so quickly that you could feel your eyes actively adjusting to shut out light. Oh no, not again, you thought. You were losing yourself to instinct, wanting to surge forward and get closer - wrap yourself around him like a scarf. You looked away, trying to lessen his horror (and yours) as he shifted back a bit to get some distance.

“Soap, you’re not gonna like this…but please trust me,” Ghost said, bringing you close to his armoured chest. “I need to ask you to do something.”

You gratefully wrapped yourself round him, only barely able to get your arms fully round his vest so that you could hug into the man like he was your only source of warmth. It helped. Fully shutting your eyes against Ghost’s black tac gear and trying to distract yourself from the man next to him was the next best thing to whatever your instincts were screaming at you to do.

“Spit it out,” Soap said through gritted teeth.

“I need you to take Pup and let them…well essentially give you a hug,” he said awkwardly, clearly unsure of how to ask.

Soap snorted out a dark laugh and you were sure if you looked up you’d see a disgusted expression.

“I don’t think nows the time for having a fucking laugh, LT.”

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I thought you were in any danger,” Ghost said, voice taking on an edge as his body stiffened under you. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important either, I don’t want to hurt you. You know that.”

“Ghost, look at their fuckin’ eyes, I don’t see why-”

Soap stopped before he could finish, huffing through his sentence like he’d been asked to diffuse a bomb with five seconds on the clock. Your ears flicked as you picked up a new sound filling the space, something soft and forlorn that rattled through you.

Your own sobs, you eventually realised.

You were losing yourself again, you hadn’t even realised you'd started crying. It became more than evident as the hot tears drifted down your cheeks.

“Pup, it’s ok,” Ghost said gently, stroking your ears. “Shh, you’re ok. Why’re you cryin’?”

You shook your head, head feeling dizzier than if you’d spun in an endless circle. Words were too much. They were too human.

“Ey?” Ghost continued, smoothing his hand over your back. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head again. Your body lurching with a growing dread.

“If I-” Soap began, freeing on his words as he tried to figure out what to say. “If I take Pup…will it help…this?”

Ghost took a pause, trying to coax you from where you were squishing your face under his chin.

“I reckon so,” Ghost said.

Soap sighed, pushing you to cry harder. The only rational part left of you couldn’t be sure of why his reticence was so upsetting to you, but then again you weren’t even sure what had caused any of the upset in the first place. So many men had been hurt while you were with them, and most of the time you couldn't give a shit - the rest of the time you were happy even to watch them bleed or sometimes cry through some of the worst injuries. Now Soap had a bit of a nosebleed and you were practically choking as if you couldn’t take on air anymore.

You couldn’t make sense of it.

You especially couldn’t make sense of it when Soap switched places with Ghost and sat at your back, ending your little crying fit when he took you from your handler and held you to his front. Your sobs quietly retreated into your throat and your tears turned off like a tap had been yanked. Instead of breaking down, you focused on burrowing into his chest. Your body completely calming when you picked out the sound of his heartbeat and got closer to the fresh scent of sage, nuzzling your nose just shy of his collarbones.

“What the hell…?” Soap breathed, body tensing as you finished getting comfortable.

It took a little moment until he was able to slowly relax his muscles. His arms came first, settling around you, and then his thighs slowly dipped down. His pulse was the last to die down, beating insistently against your ears like a timpani drum before it gently became more of a wing beat.

You sighed contentedly and felt yourself getting very tired, closing your eyes just before your vision fully faded back into focus again.

“You have no idea how much you’ve just helped,” Ghost said gratefully, voice sounding distant as you continued to float into what felt like a different plane of existence.

“Are you gonna tell me how I helped?” Soap asked, voice sounding insistent as his heartbeat picked up again. “You tellin’ me that whenever one of us gets hurt that pup’s gonna need a bloody emotional support buddy to get through it?”

Ghost laughed throatily.

“Not likely,” he assured, leaning forward and stroking your back. “Learnt about this way back in training, but I’ve never seen it so strong so quickly - Pup’s pack bonded to us, but its not a secure bond right now. I’m guessing they got upset because they thought you being hurt and keeping your distance was like a rejection. Basically like you saying that they don’t need to be concerned about you getting hurt because you’re not part of the pack.”

“Well how was I supposed to kn-”

“You weren’t,” Ghost soothed, calming Soap down before you could properly stir again.

You hummed against Soap’s chest and frowned at his quickening heartbeat, attempting to slow it with a gentle nuzzle. Though it didn’t do much to calm him, so you soon stopped and found that worked better instead.

It was only when you went still that they resumed talking again.

“So what does pack bonding mean?” Soap asked, sounding unsure as he shifted around you. “Pup doesn’t even know that much about me and now we’re in this- a pack.”

Ghost chuckled at that, the material of his clothing loudly buzzing at your ears as he shook.

“It’s not like a forced marriage Johnny, you don’t have to sound so frightened, it mostly just means their instincts’ll tell em’ to keep us safe. It’s probably down to all the protection work Price has had them doing while we’ve been in the beginning stages. Pup’s had a rough life, no ones ever cared for em’ like we have, even in the short time that’s been. Even when you’ve been handling Pup like a feinting nun, you’ve probably been nicer than most people they’ve met.”

“Fuck you, feintin’ nun,” Soap spat, laughing despite himself. “You told me the other day I was doin’ well!”

“You have been doing well. Better than I thought you would,” Ghost said softly, a smile weaving its way through his voice.

“Well enough to be in a pack apparently,” Soap huffed, absentmindedly running his hand over your back.

You practically purred in pleasure at that, letting out a low happy sound in your throat. Soap startled, but still held onto you, hand freezing in place however. He clearly didn’t understand that the noise you were making was supposed to be something nice.

“Why’re they growling at me?” Soap squawked. “What’d I do?”

“Relax! That’s not growling, not per se,” Ghost laughed, “It’s a good growl. Mean’s they’re happy. Untwist your knickers, you don’t wanna work Pup up again.”

“Fuckin hell…pack bonding…happy growls. What’s next? My poor heart could’ve done with a warning before having to hunt a terrorist and deal with all this,” Soap huffed. “And you say all this is because we’re nice? How bad has a life gotta be for a hybrid to wanna hug me? How’s this even helping?”

“It’s not about the hug itself. Being close like that is just letting them hear your heartbeat and get your scent. Pup knows you’re ok because you feel and smell healthy - that’s all they needed. It doesn’t help that the Branhaven arseholes condition them to surrender to their instincts on the field. It’s good when it comes to hunting people down, doesn’t help so much when they get all panicky because one of their own’s been bleeding.”

“And they don’t train that out?”

“Wouldn’t have had to before. Like I said - we’re the only ones that’ve been nice to em’,” Ghost said, voice quietening when he said the next part. “We’re the only team that’s ever applied for guardianship in the entire time they’ve been working. They got stuck in the military when they were ten and got signed away under a DNN contract. Even though it’s only been a week, we’re all Pup has. It’s only natural for them to feel like this.”

“What’s a DNN contract?” Soap asked.

“Do not notify,” Ghost said, the words making you whine softly as you thought back to when it was first explained to you. “Means Pup’s parents didn’t want contact after they dropped them off. No phone calls or letters from them, no contact, no notice if they ever get killed or captured.”

“That’s fuckin’ bullshit,” Soap growled.

“Mhmm,” Ghost hummed, stroking his hand over your back again. “Such a sweet Pup too. Got us to be good to you now. Our good Pup, huh?”

You whined in agreement and settled into Soap fully, happily letting yourself drift off to thoughts of citrus and sage. Theirs, the raspy inner voice whispered - just before you could fully lose the battle to sleep. Mine. Theirs. Mine!

-🐺-

The next day, after the debrief had reached its conclusion, Soap asked Ghost if he could have five minutes with you. You’d bitten your lip, anticipating that he might want to chew you out for you’d acted with him, and sadly nodded when Ghost said he’d be waiting across the corridor in Price’s office for you.

As soon as the door had clicked closed, you waited for the shouting to begin and wrapped your arms tightly round yourself, as if to keep your heart in your chest. Soap didn’t roar or hit the desk, or make any moves you’d been waiting for, not right away at least you’d figured. No, he gently tugged the seat in front of you out from the table and sat down across from you.

You peered over at him and felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, still not completely past the fact you’d insisted on curling round him like a little lap dog. Things were a bit foggy from that day still. Ghost had had to explain on the way back to his that you’d succumbed to your instincts and Soap has helped you calm down, but sure enough once he had, you remembered what you’d done and felt deathly self-conscious. No matter how much Ghost had tried to insist that it was ok, you’d gone to bed that night without speaking another word.

“Look, um…I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” Soap said nervously, arching his body down so that he could speak on your level.

“You’re sorry?” you repeated, not sure you’d heard right.

Did he mean to ask for an apology from you instead? You had no idea what he could possibly need to apologise for. As far as you were concerned his behaviour had been completely justified, you had acted like a crazy person. It wasn’t normal to need to sit and sniff people and hug them after they’d suffered a very common injury in the line of work you were in. Yet he still wanted to apologise to you?

“Yeah,” Soap breathed, pursing his lips before he could explain himself. “I’ve been treating you like a threat when you haven’t deserved it. It’s not acceptable, I’m a grown man and I’ve been acting like a scared kid around you. So I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Uh…” you trailed, not really sure how to respond. “Thanks?”

It wasn’t often that anyone apologised to you, especially not when they hadn’t even done anything that you deemed bad. For that reason, you were left scrabbling for something to say and unfortunately left wanting, letting the sentiment of gratitude hang in the air instead. Things were even more awkward now.

“You don’t need to worry about yesterday as well…Ghost said you were feelin’ awkward and I-”

“It won’t happen again,” you assured, swallowing a thick lump in your throat. “I’ll get better control of myself.”

“Well, you weren’t really yourself, so…It’s fine. You had your reasons.”

It wasn’t fine. However you didn’t really want to disagree with him, so instead you nodded tightly and looked away from Soap instead.

“I know you have your reasons for how you are with me,” you said softly. “Something to do with your scar, right?”

“How’d you…?” Soap trailed off, rubbing his thumb along the cracked keloid on his chin.

He almost seemed to realise the answer to his own question as he did it. You nodded when his eyes widened. It was almost comical really, he seemed like he was caught doing something awful when it wasn’t even a big deal. You were used to people being distrustful of you, had had your own parents accuse you of being ready to turn into a rogue beast at any moment. Being feared wasn’t anything new.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged.

“No, look…You should know - I don’t think you’re gonna do anything like this to me and even then that’s not really why I- It’s not- ugh fuck it,” he sighed, body growing heavy as he sat back in his chair. “My little brother was jumped by a hybrid when we were young. He was playin’ football in the street and ended up kicking the ball too far down the road. I was supposed to be watching him and I was too busy chattin’ to my friends and- well all I heard was him screamin’ bloody murder and when I got there he was knocked out and his arm had nearly been chewed clean off. I managed to get the wolf- i mean him off my brother, but then he turned and scratched me- tried to bite- I… well anyway - I got him away and my brother ended up in hospital for a long time and it was a really fuckin’ dark time for my family.”

You watched his impassioned expressions as he told his story and nodded along, wincing as he tried to use the right words to try and explain to you what had happened. He didn’t need to explain it to you, not really. He looked down right pained as he remembered back to what must have been an awful day for him.

Now you both sat in the heavy silence of the now cavernous room.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you said awkwardly.

“I didn’t tell you that because I wanted you to feel sorry for me,” he said in a reassuring tone. “I just wanted you to know I have some shit to work on, and I that I am trying to work on it. I don’t want you to feel any less a part of the team because of how I act. You’re just as much a part of the 141 as I am, don’t doubt it for a second.”

Your ears pinned flat to your head and your chest swelled with emotion. The drum inside your chest beat quickly out of time and you struggled for a moment, feeling a light tingling at the back of your neck. Part of you tried to convince yourself that it was all a mean trick, but just one look into his soft blue eyes told you that he was genuine. He really didn’t want you to feel bad.

“Thanks, Soap,” you murmured, fighting the lump in your throat just to speak. “That’s really kind of you.”

“Just the truth,” he grunted, trying to inconspicuously clear the emotion from his voice. “You should probably go get Ghost now, yeah? You’ve probably got some runnin’ around to do.”

You broke at that, nodding and letting your eyes clear of the growing wetness. Soap had only in the past few days started referring to your training as ‘running around’, and it was a fair way to sum it up, but no less insulting. Playfully insulting at least, the kind of thing teammates would say.

It made you smile then.

“Yeah…” you laughed, slowly rising from your chair. “Best get to it.”

#simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #Ghost #mw2 #ghost x reader #Hybrid!reader #reign down on me

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darkbluekies · 1 year

Text

Silas & Dr Kry drabbles: releasing knock-out gas to capture you

Mafia!yandere OC x doctor!yandere OC x reader

Warnings: mentions of basement punishment, mentions of breaking reader, bimbofication(?)

Silas:

You've locked yourself in his office after Silas threatened to throw you into the basement. Him and his men has gathered outside the wooden door. His men want to shoot the door open, but Silas doesn't want any of the bullets to go through and hit you.

"Baby, I'm warning you", he chuckles and feels the door handle. "You're just making it worse for yourself! Come out now and I'll be nicer to you."

Liar. You look around desperately for something to protect yourself with, knowing that he'll find a way in sooner or later.

Silas turns to his men and lowers his voice. "Get the sleep gas."

They nod and run. Silas stretches his neck. He doesn't need the sleep gas, but he's has enough of your childish outbursts. He would rather do everything calm and quietly instead of having you kicking and screaming over his shoulder.

"Y/N, if I were you I'd walk over to the couch", he says. "Or else you'll have a concussion. Your choice."

The men return with the gas and start to pump it under the door. Silas can hear how you gasp and take a deep breath. He chuckles. Do you really think that you can hold your breath and avoid it? Silly thing.

It doesn't take long before he hears your body hit the floor. Silas smiles cockily. Once again, he wins.

"Now, shoot", he says and signals for his second in command to shoot the lock. "They're on the floor, no bullets should hit them."

The second in command shoots the lock until the door bursts open. Silas sees you lying on the carpet, knocked out cold. Of course you didn't listen to him about hitting your head. He walks over and sinks down by your head. Carefully, he caresses your cheek with his rough hand.

"You stupid little thing", he whispers and picks you up in his muscular arms. "You just never learn your lesson, do you? Have to make me do all of this to teach you where your place is. My dumb baby. "

Your head automatically slump onto his shoulder. Silas breaks out into a smile. He adores the feeling of having you in his arms — especially when you're not struggling or throwing punches at him. He walks past his men, towards the basement stairs. This time, he'll break you.

Dr Kry:

You’ve locked yourself in a medical supply closet to prove a point to Dr Kry. You know everything about the poisoned air purifier. Normally, he'd unlock the door and grab you, but not this time. Not when you're this frantic. Not long after you can hear a heavy knock at the door.

“If you don’t come out now, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands, Y/N”, Dr Kry says warningly with his forehead pressed against the door. "I don't think you want that!"

You look around, but there's nowhere to go. No window, no door, no vent. Panic sets in.

Dr Kry goes to get the gas, figuring that it'll be easier to unlock the door without you butting in. If you start to scream and cause a scene, the other doctors will be suspicious ... and stick their nose in Dr Kry's business. Maybe even take you from him. The thought makes him shudder. They'll misunderstand. You're just scared, nothing more.

He returns and start to pump it under the door.

"Don't be alarmed, Y/N", Dr Kry says. "Just take deep breaths for me and I will get you out of there shortly."

"No, no, no!" you panic. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

You try to unlock the door, but he forces it shut. He changes his mind. You're going to pay for your actions. You have to learn from your mistakes. It's for your own good.

He waits for a minute before he pulls up his keys from his pocket and unlocks the door. You're lying on the floor in your hospital gown, fresh tearstains on your cheeks. Dr Kry picks you up in his arms and sit on the floor for a moment, just to feel your wonderful body. He rests his head on yours, sighing. You're too scared for your own good. He has to take better care of you.

"Let's get you back to bed", he says, knowing that you can't hear him. "I'll restrain you, you don't have to be afraid of yourself anymore. I'll take every measure to make sure you're safe."

Dr Kry kisses your forhead and stands up, walking back to your room.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere fics #yandere stories #yandere oc x reader #yandere doctor #yandere drabble #yandere headcanon

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ratherbefangirling · 23 days

Text

Belong 9

Pairing: ot7 x reader

Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort, omegaverse au

Summary: You and Jungkook go to the camp.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Jungkook can feel the excitement in the air. The pack is bustling with activity.

Jin and Hobi have been out shopping on multiple little trips every day busy buying things for you. They think they're hiding it well but their constant giggling and taking approval from either Yoongi or Taehyung cannot possibly go unnoticed, even though Junkook among all of them is the best at being oblivious.

Last night he overheard Yoongi and Joon discuss or rather argue..it wasn't an actual fight but they both did get worked up enough that Hobi had to intervene. The two of them were quite passionate about converting one of the store rooms into your room and possibly redo the basement to optimise storage. Even Taehyung who Jungkook didn't think was very interested in having you as part of the pack had already informed his family about you. Jungkook had been gaming with Taehyung when his family pack called. And Taehyung had quite happily chirped about Junkook's mate.

It made Jungkook think about you.. which frankly he had been avoiding. He had said yes to the pack but at the same time he was nervous about how things would actually go. He knew the pack would be disappointed if you said no and he didn't think he could handle that in addition to loosing you. Nobody knew the fact that he had watched you from the first day you entered. Your bright smiles were infectious. You were a reserved person and he was shy and to be honest it wasn't the best combination.

Many a times when you sat in Yoongi's studio doing your work Jungkook stood and watched from the slight opening of the door. He had come out to eat icecream and he picked up the tub decided to go visit yoongi and there you were. Its like you belonged with the pack already. He only moved when you started packing your books to leave. Rushing to hide in his room. Heart pounding. It must have been from the running because surely it couldn't be you. His icecream melted but he felt like he had bigger concerns. But he wasn't sad for long because Jin had made him a milkshake out of the melted icecream

Another thing to note was that Jungkook loves your scent. It's addicting, it's like having his favourite candy times hundred for the first time. If he could turn your scent into perfume he would and he would also spray it everywhere so he can always smell it.

Jungkook was more proactive in the action department of his brain than the thinking. He had always his hyungs to do the thinking for him. It wasn't like he couldn't but he liked living not having to do the heavy lifting and being cared for,he would move mountains for them in return if that's what made them happy. And he was always going to have the pack and now maybe possibly even you.

How did he even get so lucky.. he had told this to Yoongi who'd gently replied. Whatever he did he must have been good.

And you're pretty. In all the ways he likes. If Jungkook wasn't busy being jealous of you when you were first introduced to him he would have followed you to the ends of the earth just to get a glimpse of you. He'd often watch the windows of your room sleeping only after you turned off the lights. Some times he wanted to scold you for staying up late. Or for being careless as a lone omega. He knew he'd get an earful if he ever confessed such thoughts to anyone but he couldn't help but worry. He wanted to be the one who protects you. Except he'd only caused you hurt. Maybe he wasn't good enough to be your mate maybe that's why the bond was one way instead of two. He must have been oblivious to not realise how much he cared for you.

Jungkook has always been a hopeless romantic. He knows it. Every one knows it. He remembers the one time that play fighting with Jin had gone too far and Jin had to leave for an offsite buisness trip and when Jin opened the trunk to get his luggage, he found Jungkook eating his emergency jellies... which made Jin both endeared and even more mad. Jungkook had followed Jin to his hotel and even had the audacity to order mint chocolate icecream.

Jin was extremely irritated having to deal with Jungkook but also secretly happy Jungkook had followed him even though Jin wouldn't be caught admitting it. He even made Hoseok lecture Jungkook later.

But being around you is so confusing for Jungkook. He wants to protect you but also hide from you. He wants to listen to you but also talking to you is so intimidating. He wants to hide you from the world but also show you off to everyone. He wants to never say the words out loud and scream from the rooftops. That yes yes he's in love with you.

Thats not the only thing on Jungkook's mind though.

As he eats instant noodles with Jimin, a random movie playing in the background. He can't help but be a little concerned.

The only one not into the recent change is Jimin and Jungkook thinks he might have something to do with it.

The truth is Jimin felt a little betrayed by Jungkook's change of stance. Jimin liked you, he did. He loved hanging out with you and the omega sleepovers and laughing silly with you ,but you were the newest friend he had made in a while and things would change once you were pack. And there wasn't any guarantee it'd change for the better.

He also felt a little threatened by you, he was used to being Jungkook's omega and the packs omega uncontested because Taehyung always folded even when Jimin knew he was being unreasonable or doing something just because he could and not to mention how it would inevitably change the pack dynamics. Namjoon and Yoongi had taken a great learning curve to respect each other, but because of you, they were already arguing again. While Jimin wouldn't say it our loud, he was grateful Yoongi was a beta because otherwise, it would have been a total disaster.

Also the pack was already accommodating you. When Jimin had introduced Jungkook there was a lot of adjustments and maybe its unfair on you for Jimin to compare but it's the truth. Jimin was furious when he glanced upon Hobi's idea notebook where he was already considering doing videos with you.

Everything felt too sudden. And thats not to mention having the responsibility of looking after the wellbeing of another omega. Jimin wasn't sure he could do it.

The pack sat together for dinner. Since Jungkook was going to be away from home Seokjin and Yoongi had gone the extra mile to make Junkook's favourite dishes. The mood across the table was cheery.

They all ate happily talking over each other. Jin was showing off by flexing his arm muscles because he had recently started going to the gym again. Tae too flexed his muscles. Hobi laughed. Jimin couldn't help but smile fondly at his pack.

"Jungkook. Do well." Yoongi said quietly as they were picking up dishes.

Before Jungkook could reply. Jimin spoke. "Its not necessary that Y/n will agree."

Yoongi was a little shocked by the bite present in Jimin's words.

"What do you mean?"

Shrugging he said." I mean she's a solo omega who hasn't lived in a pack for most of her life. It's hard to live with us. Besides she may just not want to. I think you guys are building it up too much. I mean she didn't even say anything about the gifts we gave her before so who knows maybe she was playing us. I mean you guys saw her with another alpha."

Yoongi felt angry. "Are you hearing yourself right now?"

"Ofcourse I'm just being realistic." Jimin replied defensively.

Yoongi lost his temper. "That's rich coming from you."

"What do you mean?" Jimin said even though he knew exactly what Yoongi was implying. He had introduced Jungkook to the pack when Jungkook was still a minor.

"What's going on?" Taehyung asked coming from the kitchen soap suds in his hand. "You guys smell angry."

Yoongi scoffs. "Nothing." Yoongi walks away leaving a Jimin who is both hurt and angry.

Finally the day of the trip arrives. Jungkook can feel the pressure.

Namjoon spots the tremble in Jungkook's hand. So he waits for everyone to say their goodbyes. Then he hugs Jungkook.

"Have fun. OK? And no matter what happens I won't be Dissappointed in you. You're still pack. Our Baby alpha."

And Jungkook feels himself relax. It's exactly what he needed to hear.

"Our kid is going camping alone. Jungkookie is all grown up. Come on everyone it's picture time " Hobi says ushering everyone close to take a picture.

"1 2 3, Say cheese" Hobi clicks the picture. The Polaroid film comes out blank and slowly but surely the colors start filling in.

"Why's his bag so heavy? It's like you're carrying rocks." Taehyung comments.

And his bag was quite a sight. An army style bag and luggage with extra sleeping bag containing snacks and a safety kit and a Swiss knife.

"Ok ok. He'll be late." Jin says ushering them along.

They all say goodbye and leave for work.

Jungkook takes a deep breath and picks his luggage. Here goes nothing. .

The first order of buisness is that Jungkook is responsible for taking attendance. He can't help but notice your cheery mood. It puts him in a good mood too.

Soon it's time to board the bus. He directs the students along with the other volunteers to keep their bags in the bus. He's about to help you when Yeonjun that brat keeps your luggage.

"Your luggage is cute like you" the alpha says.

You giggle.

And Jungkook decides he hates this Yeonjun character. His hate only intensifies. When you sit next to each other. He breaks the pencil he was holding when he sees you share earphones.

He wants to stop you but he remembers he has no right to. He spends the rest of the ride plotting Yeonjun's demise.

He watches you fall asleep. Its early morning so it's only natural a lot of people are sleeping. The bus makes a stop he watches Yeonjun and others who are awake go to the bus stop. He covers you up with the shawl so you don't catch a cold. Then he goes back to his seat satisfied.

The bus resumes its journey. Finally the destination arrives. People start to get up. You look groggy and half asleep. So adorable.

"I'll take out our bags" Yeonjun tells you. You nod in response hugging the shawl closely. It smells nice. You stretch and stand up. Jungkook comes closer to you the apology ready on his lips but instead he changes his mind the last minute.

"Y/n.. I... the shawl please."

"Oh yeah sure." You're a little disappointed. Aren't you supposed to be mates. Isn't this supposed to be easy. You wait for him to say something else. Anything. But before he can say something one of the other volunteers asks Jungkook to hurry. And so once again he leaves you hanging.

You are alloted rooms luckily you and Sooyeon are sharing the room. You both quickly change into your hiking outfit.

You start at the base of the mountain excited but it isn't soon that you're already regretting it. The surroundings forest makes the air humid. And soon you're sweating. As the path goes on, it becomes more steep. Jungkook stays near you and though you loathe to admit it. It does make you feel more safe.

Despite grumbling the entire journey. The top view is spectacular. Though the weather is windy. You take pictures. You even have a group picture taken.

And then it's going down, which, though easier than climbing is still fueling your exhaustion. By the end your legs feel like jelly.

Soon it's time for dinner after eating and taking a shower you pass out on your bed.

The next morning after breakfast, your bus takes you to the camping site. The scenery is nice. A clearing at the base of the mountain surrounded by forests.

On reaching camps you are handed tents. Your first task is building tents. You start to read the information booklet with Suyeon.

"Don't worry Y/n. I'll help you out. I used to go camping with my dad. I've helped make tents."

You smile at her grateful, but before you can say more. A loud clap attracts your attention.

It's Jungkook.

"Gather round. I'll make one tent to show you how it's done. Play close attention."

He then picks up your tent and starts setting it up carefully going over the steps. And you wanna roll your eyes at his audacity but you're also secretly impressed.

Suyeon nudges you, a mischievous smile on her lips.

"Shut it." You say warning evident in your tone.

She only giggles thoroughly, enjoying the turn of events.

Jungkook knows he's probably trying to hard. But at this point it's all or nothing. It's best to finish this before he looses his nerve. Except all his plans seem to be backfiring. Anytime he tries to offer help. Show he can provide as an alpha. Its end up in a way where you offer to help others and do more work.

He then instructed people to chop wood for the barbecue. Assigning yeonjun to it. To you he put on the food preparation duty. So that you both wouldn't stick to each other. His satisfaction lasted only a little while.

After a while, every time Yeonjun transported the wood, he'd drop by the kitchen area. And you'd feed him a little something after he cutely whined for it. Even helping him drink water!!! Jungkook had to busy him in the actual grilling. Pretending to teach him to barbecue so that the two of you would stay separated.

You sat huddled together as a group when Yeonjun produced smores like he was smuggling alcohol.

As if that wasn't enough. Yeonjun fed you the fresh grilled pieces of the barbecue. And Jungkook was forced to handover the smores he bought for himself to Yeonjun because he wanted you to eat them. And he had to smile and pretend to be magnanimous to Yeonjun who thought Jungkook was favouring him.

Ha! As if he would favor his mortal enemy.

He just couldn't risk making you more angry then you were and have Jin hyung scold him that's it. And Yeonjun was a nice kid. But he wouldn't be caught dead admitting it.

"Wow where did you get these" Suyeon asked him taking a bite.

"Jungkook sunbaenim gave them to me. I think he likes me." Yeonjun replied confidently.

Suyeon choked back laughter. You handed her water with a pointed look.

"Ofcourse such a nice senior." Suyeon agrees patting your back.

And one might call him biased against Yeonjun. But whenever he tries to give him jobs you end up volunteering to help him out. Like he made Yeonjun do the dishes. And he had been away for a moment only to come back and find you sitting next to Yeonjun scrubbing away. And playing with the bubbles. He stromed away in barely concealed rage which stemmed out of jealousy and ended up scrubbing the rest of the pots. Which Yeonjun saw and felt even more respect for his senior.

Suyeon took a video of the incident and emailed it to you. Fulfilling her duty as your bestfriend. (Much later it would make rounds on the the boys phones.. Taehyung even gotted a screenshot of jungkooks face printed on a shirt for Christmas)

Still Jungkook left a hand cream on your bed for you. And just like that the second day ended with Jungkook grumbling to himself as he finished checking up on everything that needed to be done for the night. Complaining to the cactus pen he'd borrowed from Namjoon.

Authur's note: happy namkook month every one. I hope you're doing well. I finally finished this. I finally got to writing after watching Run Jin. Him coming back has like healed me. So I thought it would be nice to post this. Anyway please let me know your thoughts as always. I love hearing them. And remember to like and repost.

Permanent Masterlist: @mintsugarmy : @exfolitae : @cryingpages

Series Masterlist: @jaiuneamesolitaiire ; @goooood-vibes ; @juju-227592 ; @singukieee ; @zae007live ; @rainbow-bunny-bts ; @fluffy-canada-pancakes ; @bleubirdinthesky ; @kyrah-williams ; @thedarkwinterrose ; @realswimshaddy ; @emu007 ; @jcrml ; @scuzmunkie ; @angel-121 ; @passionandsuga ;@popcatx0 ; @raineandskye ; @notsooperfect ; @toriluvsfics ; @northspiritstorm ; @parapiop7 ;

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anonymous-dentist · 2 months

Text

The following story is inspired by actual documented accounts.

I was first introduced to Agent Cellbit upon the request of Agent Elena....

"How aware are you of Agent Cellbit?"

The office is dead silent. There's the clock on Elena's desk, stopped. There's Elena's breathing, and Roier's.

It's... awkward.

But Roier shrugs and answers with an easy smile on his face: "I've heard of him. He's some kind of genius, right? He's solved, like, all of your cases for you since you recruited him. He's the Enigma Guy."

Elena's left eye twitches slightly. The man with the cigarette turns towards the window.

"You're right," Elena says. "But, recently, he's gone... weird."

"He's always been kind of weird, though, right?" Roier asks.

"Yes, but now he's." She lets out a breath, clasps her hands in front of her on her desk, looks Roier in the eyes. "What do you know about the X-Files, Agent Roier?"

Roier blinks, confused. "They're cases the Federation doesn't want to deal with because they're too weird. Aliens and stuff, right?"

Elena nods. "The unexplained and impossible. But they're what Agent Cellbit has become obsessed with, and now he won't work on any actual cases. We would like you to complete a psychological profile of him and determine whether or not he's still fit for duty."

It's Roier's turn to nod. Of course, right. He's the psychologist... technically. He does more crime-fighting than psychoanalyzing these days, but he can do both. He's great at multitasking.

The man with the cigarette doesn't turn away from the window. His hair, pure white, shines in the sunlight.

Roier stares at him. Who is this guy?

Elena clears her throat, says, "We would prefer it if you didn't let Agent Cellbit know that he's being monitored."

"Of course," Roier responds. No shit.

He isn't an amateur. He's a FBI agent! He's got this!

Agent Cellbit is in the basement along with the X-Files themselves. He has his own office, and he's never interrupted. He doesn't have a partner, unlike most other agents, and he's become so reclusive recently that people are starting to think that he's dead.

But, no, he's alive.

"I can't believe that they think I'm crazy," Cellbit scoffs.

He's alive, and he's short. He's about at the same height as Roier's chin, but he more than makes up for it with how freaking cool his hair is. The white streak in his bangs goes down through his eyebrow, eyelashes, and his facial hair. And his eyes, they're so blue that he can probably see into another dimension. (Not that those are real.)

He's dressed neatly, at least: he's following bureau policy save for the lack of a tie and a pair of hiking boots where a pair of standard loafers should be. He has a pair of reading glasses pushed up in his hair, and he looks exhausted, and he's exactly who Roier had been picturing through all the rumors.

Cellbit isn't looking at Roier. He's rummaging through a bunch of papers on his mess of a desk, instead. He's pissed, and for good reason! His bosses think he's nuts!

Roier doesn't argue. He didn't mean for Cellbit to see through his lie of being his new partner, but he didn't not expect it; Agent Cellbit is a genius, everybody knows it.

"I'm not crazy," Cellbit says. He turns and points a finger at Roier. "Don't put that in your report. Crazy people always say that they aren't."

He goes back to his desk before Roier can say anything.

Roier rolls his eyes. Wow, rude!

He looks around the office. There are posters plastered across every inch of every wall, each one with something absolutely insane on it: aliens, UFOs, werewolves, vampires. There's even something that looks like the Loch Ness Monster that Cellbit has labeled 'MERMAID?????' in big red letters.

"Since you're here," Cellbit sighs, finally finding what he wanted on his desk and grabbing it, "can I get your opinion on something? Psychology really isn't my thing anymore."

Okay, that's a lie, Roier read Cellbit's profile before heading to the basement. Prior to becoming a Federation employee, Cellbit was a detective specializing in violent crime. He was, and debatably still is, an expert in criminal psychology. He can just get into killers' heads and figure them out, and, honestly? Roier's jealous. Just a little.

Just a little.

Reaching over and poking at his laptop's track pad, Cellbit opens a PowerPoint presentation that projects itself onto the wall behind Roier.

Roier turns to look at it. And he's immediately met with a photo of a dead girl in a pile of leaves. Blood is streaking down her nose, and her eyes are shut. She's in her pajamas.

"Elisangela Neide," says Cellbit, "the fourth person to die in this exact way, in this exact location."

He taps to the next slide. This photo is (presumably) of the victim's back, and two raised bumps next to each other on it.

"But," Cellbit continues, "she is the first to have been discovered with these marks on her lower back."

"Mosquito bites," Roier immediately says. "Look at the forest she's in, it's gotta be full of mosquitos."

"Sure, but they aren't mosquito bites." (Cellbit clicks to the next slide.) "See this? It's the chemical formula for the compound found around the marks."

The formula is... weird. Roier didn't pass chemistry on his first try, but he knows something organic when he sees it. This is organic, definitely, but-

"And," Cellbit continues, "we might already have the killer on record."

He clicks to the next slide and moves to stand next to Roier. The file in his hands is open and showing the same mugshot that's on the presentation: a young man with blank eyes staring at the camera.

Roier shudders. Creepy.

"Here's why this case is with the X-Files," Cellbit explains. "The killer claims to have been working under the orders of aliens."

Roier gives Cellbit a look. "Aliens aren't real. We'd know if they were."

"Unless the government was hiding them from us, but, sure, keep believing that."

"Whatever. If we know the killer, why is the case still open?"

"Because he was in a coma when the four murders happened. Despite that, his fingerprints were found on three of the four bodies, and he's gone to the police in his city almost daily since waking up from his coma saying that he's the killer."

...Huh.

Roier takes another look at the file in Cellbit's hands. Missa Muerto, what a fucking name. Was in a coma for four years after a car accident, has been awake for two weeks, woke up the day after the discovery of Elisangela Neide's body. Fingerprints were not found on her body, but were found on the previous three victims'.

"Weird," Roier comments. He looks back up at Cellbit, meeting his eyes and smiling. "So, are we going?"

Cellbit frowns and backs away slightly, pulling the file close to his chest.

"You aren't actually my partner, you know," he says.

"No, I am. I'm just also here to make sure you're doing your job."

"And psychoanalyzing me."

"Maybe, maybe not. But that isn't important. What is important," Roier says, gesturing towards Missa's projected mugshot, "is bringing the actual killer to justice. Whether it's this guy or not, we need to figure out what's going on."

"...You still think he's the killer?"

"I won't know until I get to interview him myself. Soooo... let's go?"

Cellbit stares at him for a second before turning away with a small huff of laughter. "You really are a psychologist."

And Roier chooses to take it as a compliment. Finally, he's getting some appreciation!

Missa Muerto is currently being held in custody in a psychiatric facility in his home city, and so that's where Roier makes Cellbit take him first.

But, before they get to the hospital, their car stops right in the middle of the road.

Roier, driving, groans and slams his foot against the gas pedal a few times. "Come on!"

Cellbit's eyes are wide, and his reading glasses are on, and the case file is in his lap.

He leaves his glasses and the file behind and clambers out of the car, ignoring Roier's questioning noises.

Rolling his eyes, Roier gets out and follows Cellbit around to the trunk of the car. He watches as Cellbit opens the trunk, digs around a little, and pulls out a shiny orange can of spray paint.

Cellbit takes three big steps backwards, nearly trips on his own shoelace, turns around, and paints a big orange 'X' over the road.

"Electronic interference is a classic sign of alien activity," he explains.

"Yeah, or we just have a shitty car," Roier snorts. "Come on, help me push this thing."

Just as he turns around, the car starts back up again. All by itself.

"See? Aliens," Cellbit insists. "Missa is right."

He heads back to the car, but Roier lingers just for a moment. He stares at the car, and then he looks up at the sky.

Nothing.

They finally manage to meet with Missa, and the first thing Missa does is insist that Roier and Cellbit both prove that they don't have anything shoved up their noses.

Cellbit chooses to blow his nose as proof. He shows Missa the empty tissue; Missa considers, sighs, and nods his approval.

Roier takes a slightly different approach.

"Come and check for yourself," he tells Missa. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and turns the flashlight on and holds it out. "Here."

"Roier..." Cellbit warns.

But Missa just snatches the phone up and holds it to his chest, the flashlight shining right into Roier's eyes.

"You know what you're looking for, right?" Roier asks, squinting through the light.

Missa nods, hesitant.

More hesitant, he takes a step closer. And then another step. And another.

"It's small," he mumbles, his feet and his words both unsure. "Metal. Kind of shaped like a piece of candy. They put one up me and I can't get it out."

Roier generously tips his head back so Missa can inspect his nostrils properly.

"Nobody believes me," Missa breathes. "But it's real! It's right here!"

He taps the side of his nose vigorously. Now that he's closer, Roier can see blood crusted around the rim of Missa's right nostril. Nosebleed, or he was trying to get the... thing out himself.

"Has anybody done an x-ray?" Cellbit kindly asks.

Missa nods, shining the flashlight right up Roier's nose. "They didn't see anything, but that's impossible! Because it's there! I can feel it!"

He peers into Roier's nose, entirely too close for Roier's comfort. But, really, it's fine. Roier's own dad does weird shit with flashlights all the time, this is fine.

"The aliens put it there?" Cellbit asks.

Missa freezes. "Them."

His hand starts to shake. So do his knees.

Suddenly, he drops Roier's phone and grabs him by the shirt with both hands in a white-knuckled grip.

"Please," he pleads, face twisted up in desperation, "you have to stop me! They say that I have one more to bring them, but I can't! I don't want to!"

Cellbit makes a move closer, but Roier gives him a Look (capital-'L'), and he stops.

Gently, Roier raises his hands and wraps them around Missa's wrists. Loose, easy to break out of.

"Have you ever tried just... telling them 'no'?" Roier asks.

Missa pauses. "Uh. Well..."

Roier takes the opportunity to pull Missa off of him.

"To me, it sounds like you're in a toxic relationship with them," he says. "You're doing good by asking for help. That's step one. Step two is taking accountability."

"But I am taking accountability!" Missa shouts. "I confessed to the murders!"

"And that's good! That's step one-and-a-half. But now you need to do step two, which is you taking accountability for yourself. You need to cut them off."

"How?!" Missa cries.

And then he screams, collapsing to the floor and curling into a ball.

His hands, of course, fly to his nose.

Roier immediately drops to his knees next to Missa. Cellbit kneels on Missa's other side. Neither of them move as a squad of nurses and orderlies rush into the room and start trying to help Missa off of the floor.

"Another!" Missa screams. He thrashes in the nurses' grips, blood leaking out from between his hands. "I can't do it! I won't! I can't! No!"

Roier watches as Missa is taken away. He frowns.

"I think he broke my phone," he say, not looking at his phone, still on the floor. "What the fuck was that?"

He looks to Cellbit, who's just smiling.

He's smiling.

"Well, Doctor Roier?" he asks, turning his head to smile creepily in Roier's direction. "What's your diagnosis?"

Roier absently scratches his nose, avoiding Cellibt's gaze.

"I think that he needs help," Roier says.

"That's fair. I think that we need to redo Elisangela Neide's autopsy and check her nasal cavity."

"What, you think Missa was right?"

"I think that you need to expand your horizons. Sure, he might be crazy, but his nose basically exploded as soon as you told him to stop listening to the aliens. They're listening. Who's to say that he's the only one they're listening to?"

The autopsy is done again. Cellbit stays and watches. Roier doesn't. (He hates the smell of dead people, yuck!)

After a few hours, Cellbit comes out of the morgue with a little glass vial held triumphantly in his hand.

"I knew it!" he crows, wiggling the tube around like a chemist.

Roier snatches the vial as soon as it's within reach, and he almost immediately drops it.

"What the fuck?" he wheezes. "Why is it heavy!"

He manages to catch it, but just barely.

And then he sees it: a dull metallic object vaguely shaped like a pill. Little wires poke out of cracks in its... shell? Its shell.

Slowly, Roier looks up at a giddy Cellbit.

"Try explaining this in your report," Cellbit taunts. "If I'm crazy for seeing this, then so is the medical examiner. And so are you."

...Fuck, Roier's report!

Sliding the vial into his coat pocket, Roier stands and meets Cellbit's gaze.

"This isn't about the report," he lies. "This is about the truth. Like I said back at the office, this isn't about me proving that you're crazy. It's about finding out who's actually killing people out here."

"Right," Cellbit dryly responds. "And who do you think is 'actually killing people out here'?"

"You're gonna say it's aliens, but I think it's something way simpler. Like a cult. That's the 'them' that Missa is so scared of. They convinced him to kill Elisangela Neide, and they convinced him that he killed the other three victims. Obviously."

Cellbit looks frustrated. Good, Roier feels frustrated.

"A cult," Cellbit flatly says. "Right. A cult is sticking metal tracking devices up people's noses and sending them psychic messages."

Again, frustrated, Roier throws his arms in the air and shouts, "I don't know, man! This is weird!"

"Exactly! Now you know why I have to be the one handling these cases. I'm the only one taking them seriously!"

Roier is ready to start a proper argument, report be damned, but he's stopped by Cellbit's phone ringing in his pocket.

Cellbit takes his phone out and answers the call: "Hello?"

He frowns: "Who is this?"

He pales: "Oh. He- what?"

He sighs: "We're on it."

The call ends. He puts his phone away, scrubs at his face with his hand, sighs again.

He then looks at Roier and explains, "That was the hospital. Missa escaped. The last thing he told the nurses was that he was going to 'take accountability'."

Roier's blood freezes.

Ah. Shit.

"Aren't you supposed to be a psychologist?" Cellbit demands as they run through the forest outside of the hospital.

Roier puffs out his cheeks in annoyance. "I'm a psychologist, not a therapist! I'm not trained to actually deal with patients!"

"Are you even trained at all?"

Roier trips over an exposed root and nearly falls, but he narrowly manages to catch himself on a tree.

Leaning against the tree, he shoots Cellbit a dirty look.

"What were you doing, eh?" he snaps. "You were just standing there!"

He takes off again after Cellbit, who hadn't slowed down or stopped to wait. Asshole.

"I was observing," Cellbit huffs. "Keep an eye out for Missa."

"Well, yeah."

"And listen for any strange noises."

"Like what?"

They both skid to a stop as a sudden high-pitched whine fills the air around them, like metallic fingernails scraping down a chalkboard.

Cellbit claps his hands over his ears. "Like that!"

He looks up at the sky. Roier doesn't. Why should he?

"What is that?" he asks.

And then there's a familiar-sounding scream from deeper in the woods.

"Missa!" Roier yells. "Hold on! Don't do anything stupid!"

Ignoring Cellbit's protests, he pulls his gun out and bolts in the direction the scream came from.

"I'm done with you!" Missa shouts. "Leave me alone! Find someone else to bring them to you!"

Leaves crunch and skid under Roier's feet. Twigs snap in his face, leaves pull at his hair.

The noise continues, and it only grows louder the closer Roier gets to Missa.

"First it was Alexandre," Missa rants, barely able to be heard above the noise, "and then it was Reyna, and then it was Casper, and now it's Elisangela! You say you need one more, well! Fuck you, aliens!"

Gasping for breath, Cellbit manages to catch up to Roier. He's pulled his own gun out, and did Elena really let the supposed security risk leave the office with a firearm? What the fuck?

"He was scared of them this morning," Cellbit wheezes. "What the fuck happened?"

"Maybe I am good with patients after all!" Roier suggests.

"That was terrible advice!"

"I'm not a relationship counselor!"

"I can tell!"

Missa continues ranting and shouting even as the noise grows louder and louder. He's unintelligible at this point, speaking in a language that Roier can't understand. (What is it, French?)

The trees are starting to thin out around Roier. A clearing? Gotta be. That's where Missa has to be.

And, Roier realizes as he approaches the tree line, it's where Missa's four victims were found dead.

Missa stands in the middle of a field of leaves and blood staring up at the sky. Wind whips around him, twisting his hair into knots and ruffling his hospital gown so hard that it's starting to tear. His nose is bleeding again.

Roier skids to a stop and aims his gun towards Missa's knee. Just in case he tries to run, that's all.

"Missa, look at me," he carefully says. "Don't listen to them."

Missa doesn't look at him. Missa doesn't look at anything.

His eyes, Roier notices, are a pure black color. They almost seem to be oozing black gunk. It's like he's crying.

"Missa!" Roier calls. "Look at me! Whatever they're telling you is wrong! You're better than them, you know that!"

Next to him, Cellbit quietly says, "Roier. Look up."

He's looking up.

And so Roier does as well.

He looks up, and he sees a bright light, and-

Agent Cellbit is fit for duty, but that he needs someone to keep an eye on him. He's invested in his cases, but that means that he needs a partner willing to both act as the skeptic and entertain his wild theories. Otherwise, there is a small possibility of him going rogue. Agent Cellbit appears to be psychologically sound, but further study is needed to make a sound conclusion. I, Agent Roier Brown, submit this report to the committee of sound mind.

Elena doesn't look too impressed.

"You do realize how ridiculous this sounds, right?" she asks, closing the file and placing it on her desk. "A UFO? Really?"

"Maybe a UFO," Roier corrects. "I didn't get a good look at it. It was... really bright."

"Right."

Elena pinches the bridge of her nose. The man with the cigarette is still facing the window.

"Do you, at least, still have the 'metallic object' the medical examiner retrieved from the victim's nose?" Elena asks.

Roier nods and smiles and reaches into his pocket. "Yep! Right here."

He pulls the vial out and places it on Elena's desk.

The man with the cigarette turns around. His suit is white, and so is his cigarette smoke.

Elena's eyes widen slightly. She picks up the vial, turns it around, holds it up to the light. Holds it out for the man with the cigarette to take.

"I see," she awkwardly says.

She coughs even more awkwardly and adds, "As per your report, I'm going to be permanently assigning you to the X-Files unit with Agent Cellbit. Keep an eye on him. If he starts to go AWOL, contact me immediately."

Roier nods again, slightly less smiley. "Got it."

It's her turn to nod. "That will be all, Agent Roier."

Roier nods one last time.

He stands.

He leaves.

He scratches his nose once he's out the door.

Cellbit is outside waiting for him with a new file in his hand.

"They still haven't found Missa's body," he says.

Roier rolls his eyes. "What happened to 'hello'?"

"And the local file for the deaths he caused has vanished. I called, and they told me that there was a fire. Every file was found intact except for Missa's."

Roier thinks back to the light in the sky and the figure within it. Its hand was extended downwards, and Missa's hand was extended up.

"The only copy left is the X-File," Roier supposes.

Cellbit nods. "I won't let him be erased."

That's what the X-Files are for, Roier realizes. They aren't about aliens or monsters or whatever-the-fuck.

They're about remembering those who would otherwise be forgotten. Those that are meant to be forgotten.

Maybe Cellbit isn't that crazy, after all.

(But Roier volunteered to help him for the foreseeable future, so what does that say about him?)

[For Spiderbit Week Day Three: Sci-Fi | First Meetings]

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#i don't think i've ever shaken from anticipation writing a fic before lol #because I LOVE THIS SHOW SO MUUUUUUCH #tbh idk how i feel about this one but i think i like it #it's a little hard to match them with mulder and scully lol

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thestarfishinjootsoffice · 2 years

Note

slashers x child reader who just LOVES to sleep and just passes out everywhere. Also can the reader have a lil stuffed bunny that would be sooo cute!

It's like everyone is reading my mind, I was thinking about this a few days ago 🫣

I got lazy at the end I'm sorry 🫠

Slashers x child! Reader who loves sleeping

Michael

Would be lowkey concerned for you, are you not having enough sleep?

Despite the man not caring much about his himself he is worried for you.

he sees you sleep like almost every time he sees you and then starts to calm down. But he wonders why you don't get extremely hyper after sleeping all the time.

But he never saw you full out pass out before so when you did he got really scared. He thought you died. 😭

It was a long day, you got yelled at in class by your teacher for sleeping in and you were forced to stay awake which you almost failed after five seconds but you didn't want to be embarrassed in your whole class again.

You wanted to sleep so badly you started yawning so much even the others around you started yawning.

And when class ended you immediately went to the myers house instead of your parents and the sight of the couch made you passed out, unfortunately you missed the couch but fortunately the bunny you were holding saved you from heading head first onto the ground.

Michael who just witnessed all this was quite distraught, what happened? Did you die of exhaustion??

He tried nudging you but that didn't work you didn't move. So now he was getting really perturbed. He holding you now and shaking you a bit and you still didn't wake up and he was almost close to throwing you out the window because you wouldn't wake up. But then he started hardly gripping on you and that's when you shot up to the sudden pain you felt on your shoulder blade.

"Dad what happened-"

He just squished you in his arms and stomach. Which made you pass out again and it became a cycle like a few more times.

Your teachers body was also found on the news.

(Ps your parents were later questioning why you smelt like dirt and blood)

But it's a win win for both of you since he won't disturb you when you sleep and you don't disturb him when he goes out killing.

sometimes decides to watch you sleep when he's bored and doesn't have the need to kill. Creepy or cute? You decide although he isn't going to stop whatever your opinion on it is.

Sinclair brothers

Bo doesn't mind it much except when you just fall wherever you feel is sleeping on worthy and also when there are tourists and he has to use you because you are perfect when luring them in especially with your cute little bunny. You make victims want to drop on their knees and beg for you to like them. (not in a weird way 💀) but he also feels the same way too. Don't be fooled if he doesn't show it. He has a smol room with the most comfortable blankets and sheets he can find just for you. 🥹 he also lets you snuggle up to him whenever you want to. His face is a bored annoyed looking expression but inside it's "oh my god, this precious baby oh you gorgeous thing *sobbing*"

Vincent slightly worries at how much you sleep and how fast you do but won't question it much. You are welcome in the basement anytime and he lets you sleep in his room when its cold outside, you three (your lil stuffed bunny too) sometimes end up cuddling. He likes having company occasionally but you don't make your presence known that much except for your slight snoring and breathing but that's okay. Atleast you won't see the naked bodies while he does his sculpting.

Lester doesn't mind at all. Actually encourages you to. His thoughts on it are basically "they're just a baby! They need sleep to grow!" He takes you on a drive around the town and sometimes out of town if you like sleeping in his car with your little bunny. If Bo ever catches him in the act of doing this though he may lose his driving you around privileges. He naps with you along with jonesy too. You three four are the cutest trio there can be it makes anyone wanna cry out of cuteness overload.

Bonus: jonesy! She follows you 24/7 to ensure you're safe because what if you're napping outside and there comes a random pedo Or kidnapper in town and they try anything on you. They wouldn't have lasted long anyways because lester and Bo have their eyes everywhere you are in but just to be safe.

Hannibal

That's one of the many things he immediately noticed about you. Your never ending love for sleep. He lets you sleep all you want yes. But he wonders if you're sleep deprived. But he learns that you just really like sleeping and stop wondering.

Gets disturbed everytime you just fall anywhere though, if you're feeling sleepy just tell him and he'll so generously carry you to your comfy luxurious room.

He sketches you sleeping with your bunny and shows it to you when you wake up and chuckles a bit if you get a little weirded out and sketches you even more if you express your love for it but if you're truly uncomfortable by it then he'll stop.

Also will also watch you sleep from time to time. He just loves you and your sleeping face. If your bunny gets old and worn out he'll buy you a new one but he'll adjust it to look more like your old one because he's thoughtful just like that.

He schedules and learns at what time you mostly sleep at and how it takes for you to wake up so that when you wake up you are greeted with fresh warm food and a smily motherly hannibal.

He may or may not send pictures of you to Will... Will shows up at his house to visit you and just watches you untill you wake up so that you three can play together. Yay 🎊 🎉

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literally-noone83 · 5 months

Text

Breathe Easy

Draken x Fem!reader

Synopsis: Draken comes by your place at night only to find out you've been stuck in a household full of screaming and yelling.

A/n: Another short oneeee. Writing juice on low. But I hope you like this comfort fic. Also of you have any requests or ideas for fics please send them in, I'd happy to look at it. Might spark a new writing piece or if I like it enough, I'll write what you suggest :)) Ok enjoy! ALSO, can't reply to comments yet. But to the love given for my Loki fic THANK YOUUUU.

He saunters down dampened roads and over the faint, flickering spots of light from streetlights that buzzed softly. Slanted and with the lingering smell of rust and rain, it marked the neglect of these metropolitan roads. He breezes through the long alleyways and the small spaces between brick walls where every ounce of light is evaporated under the high moon. Only the rare silouhette passes by in his distance or the echoe of reving cars.

His hands rest comfortably in his pockets as he wandered through the blocks of apartments, and dingey homes sat on the outskirts of the city. He knew them like the back of his hand. Needn't stop once or look over his shoulder. He can hear the crisp air whistle in his ear and every mile away car. Even if he was to be attacked it wasn't an issue to Toman's vice-leader.

His nerves rest easy. All that's on his mind is getting to where he needed to be.

Nearing the apartment complexes that sit almost side by side, he made his way over to one of the windows just above the ground. Lined on the floor, there were the partial basement housings. His eyes glided over the dirtied cement, the way the barred widows glisten with droplets that run down its faces. Many of them had its curtains drawn. It was midnight after all. Everyone should be asleep but amidst the lot, his eyes flickered with familiarity at the one that was never fully drawn at this hour. A warm glow from a lamp he knew kissed the edges of the lower window as he drew near.

Naturally the end of his lip curve up softly at the sight. He stops at the foot of it before crouching down, beside your window into your room. He tilts his head to see you at your desk beside that small lamp as expected. However... his eyes peered over your slouched figure upon not textbooks upon textbooks but rather a comic. Strange, he thought.

Casually, he leans forward and knocks on your window. He watched your head snap towards him in somewhat of a shock. He noticed the way your eyes don't light up or the way you don't instantly smile. Instead, you're quick to move over to him and pull the window open before sitting back down.

"I thought you had patrol." You go back to the comic you left open. His smile has long disappeared.

"Finished... thought you'd be studying." He hums lowly. On cue a loud thud ricochet off the wall followed by barking voice of anger that overlapped one another.

Furrowed brows etch his complexion with worry as his eyes instantly dart over to your unflinching self. You continued to stare at your comic. With the way your eyes were distilled upon the animated drawings, he wondered how long you've been re-reading that same page.

"Couldn't think..." You finally murmur.

He let's out a silent sigh. "Should I-"

"They're fine... just angry as usual. And stupid."

His eyes danced over your expression carefully, but it doesn't move.

"Have they been at it all day?"

There's a momentary hesitation in your eyes and he watches shame wash over you like it's your fault. You hum softly not once looking at him.

Draken has seen that face before. Distant and quietly fuming, so unlike the unceasing smiles, bubbling and maniacle laughter, and that endless sarcasm that makes your eyes glimmer. At times, Draken truly wondered how two emotionally unstable and temperamental people could produce someone like you and let their shitty relationship weigh on their child this much.

Over the years knowing you, Draken never saw anything affect your mood as your parents' big blowout fights did. Draken never had parents, and despite growing up under the roof of a brothel that had its own varying imperfections, he could only imagine how hefty it was to be an only child isolated between walls that shook with the yells and screaming of parents love that's meant to warm them.

An unadulterated scream echoes, like a child throwing a tantrum before more barking follows; empty threats of money loss, divorce, cheating and who knows what more. The dull look in your eyes that stares blankly, he could see the hurt you never like showing. But he can see it.

His jaw ticks. He hated you being there alone. He quickly looks around, down both the empty wet streets.

"Hey." He said suddenly.

"You should go." You still don't look at him.

"Hey."

"They'll stop soon."

"I said hey."

"What?" You snap your head towards him, a hint of irritation.

Your gaze met his through the bars where he crouches. He taps on the metal.

"Let's go." It's not a question. It's a soft demand.

The crease between your brows smooths at the mere of idea of escaping. Your lips part, eyes unsure.

"I- draken I can't."

"You can. Come with me." He says again. "C'mon you've done it before."

You sigh at his persistence. "It's midnight."

"And this is a fucking shit hole." He deadpan. "Let's get out of here."

He coxed a brow at you in challenge as you looked at him sternly. Immediately his gaze softens into something assuring and pleading. "Cmon, Y/n... let them have it out. You don't have to listen to their shit."

You take a deep breath before shutting your comic and reaching into your draw for a key. You climb up and unlock the window gate. Draken stands back, swinging the gate open and reaching down to help you up through the window.

"God, they're gonna kill me." You grunt as you find your footing. Draken takes the key and shuts up your window and locks the gate.

"No they won't." He says it so self-assured. Not because he's sure you won't get caught sneaking out but because he'd never let anyone harm you, not even your damned parents.

"You're right, they'd come after you." You poke at him, a smile threatening your lips.

His ears perk up at the tingue of your familiar words. He straightens, looking down at you with a smirk.

"Good. Can't wait to actually meet them." His voice is unsuspecting, but his comment is playful. His dry sarcasm makes you roll your eyes and shake your head to hide the humoured grin that breaks out on your lips. You couldn't help yourself. If anything, everything in you chanted you shouldn't be smiling. Shouldn't even remotely feel like smiling after such a shitty day contained in a cage of torment. But with Draken, you let slip a rather quiet and sarcastic comment, and all of a sudden the end of your lips twitch, and you felt like laughing.

A satisfied smile blooms on his lips as he catches your small smile. There it was. That Sass. That impeccable humour that cracks at the smallest of things. That smile.

There's my girl, he thought.

He takes your hand, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Let's have fun, yea?"

You sober up and a genuine smile takes its place on your lips. Even in darkness, he could see the stars dance in your eyes. You held a softening gaze, and your shoulds deflated as if all stresses were slowly leaving you willingly and happily. With an expression that said through unspoken words he didn't need you to ever say aloud, 'I'm glad you're here.' That 'I feel safe with you.'

"To the park?" You asked, a twinge of childish hope in your voice.

That knowing look in his eyes said yes, and that was all you needed before you were tugging him forward then letting go in a spontaneous race to get there first.

At home you felt like you couldn't breathe. Those walls felt so close together. Outside knowing Draken was a few spaces behind or beside you, you could breathe. Puffing out white smokes of cold air from your lungs after running down the street, giggling and hushing one another in empty pathways and swinging on swings under the streetlight hazy glow.

With you, the dark alleyways and wet tar roads weren't so mundane. Cold rainy nights like that one, sauntering down cramped homes and dingey parks weren't so uninviting. Long nights didn't feel so long, and lonely walks didn't feel so lonely. With you, the moon wasn't the most beautiful sight in the night anymore...

Without having to say it or proclaim it, you both wordlessly save each other from your own endeavours. With one another, you could breathe easy. With one another, you were a little less alone. With one another, you felt safe and, most importantly, alive.

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raythekiller · 1 year

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hi there!! omg i just wanna say i love your writing and your art so so so much!! thank you for keeping the fandom well-fed and alive o7! if you don’t mind me asking, what are your thoughts on the slendermansion? like the layout, how it operates, and what creeps live there :D tysm!!! - tulip anon (if it’s not already taken lol)

🗒 ❛ Slendermansion Headcanons ༉‧₊˚✧

#Notes: I have so many thoughts about this omg

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

First off, I think it's a manor instead of a mansion. Mansions are simply big houses located normally on neighbourhoods while manors are often times isolated, are bigger and have some land around them with maybe some other buildings in the property. There are three main floors, along with a basement and an attic. The first floor has a big ass entrance, a living room, kitchen, dinning room, nurse's office and storage, while the second one is almost exclusively for bedrooms, most of which have suites (but there is a community bathroom as well on all three main floors). The third floor has the proxy's bedrooms, Slenderman's room and a library. Every bedroom comes with a bed and a closet, but everything else the creeps have to either make or acquire in some way by themselves (Sally is an exception). Everyone works for and obeys Slenderman and in return receive clothes, food and a place to live. The only creep that doesn't live there is Jane. Here's some bedroom headcanons:

JEFF: A mess, lives in the second floor. The walls were shitly painted black by him and you can see several missing spots. There are some band and horror movie posters on the walls and you can barely see the floor because of the amount of clothes and trash scattered around. His blinds are always closed and they are that thick type that doesn't let any sunlight get through. Deadass lives like a vampire.

BEN: Another mess, also in the second floor. There are snacks and food wrappings all around the floor and several videogames posters on the wall, along with a pro gamer computer set complete with a LED keyboard, mouse and headset, also a big ass television. His walls are a yellowish green, also with some missing spots.

TOBY: Lives in the third floor, his walls are beige and his bed covers are a brownish orange flannel. Windows always open to let some fresh air in. It's filled with several trinkets he stole from his victims and actually looks kind of aesthetic pleasing if you ignore how unorganized it is, kinda like those indie bedrooms you see on Pinterest. Has a few house plants scattered around, like cactus and succulents, nothing too difficult to take care of (he doesn't have much of a green thumb).

EYELESS JACK: Lives in the basement, since he uses the freezers in there to store his food. Not very decorated, since he spends most of his time in the nurse's office, save from the blood (if you can call that decoration).

LAUGHING JACK: Lives in the attic. Has several kids toys he steals from his victims, all of which he DIY'd to be black and white like him. His old music box is on a prestigious self on top of his bed.

MASKY: Pretty organized, lives on the third floor. Mostly consists of brownish colors and tones. Has one of those clothes racks where he keeps his flannels and some old bands posters on the walls. Nothing too fancy. Makes his bed every morning.

HOODIE: Lives in the third floor. Kinda messy, but in a fancy way. Has several notebook pages torn off with song lyrics he writes sitting around, along with manuscript papers. His guitar is normally resting by his bed and is decorated with stickers. Masky makes fun of him for it, but he has fairy lights.

BLOODY PAINTER: Lives in the second floor, but has an exclusive art studio in the property outside of the manor that looks like a little shack. His walls are white, but covered in paint splashes, so they're very colorful, same thing with the floor. Has many canvases laying around, filled and empty, as well as acrylic paints and papers with random sketches and thumbnails.

X-VIRUS: Lives in the third floor. His walls are black and with several shelves, all with test tubes, flasks and beakers filled with strange and glowing chemicals inside of them. Has LED lights on the corners of the ceiling, always shining green. Has every lab equipment you could think of, from microscopes to bunsen burners and magnetic stirrers.

CLOCKWORK: Lives in the second floor. The most aesthetically pleasing room. Has tarot tapestry hanging from the walls and ceiling as well as those fake vines. Her walls are filled head to toe with drawings she makes herself, also those aesthetic posters with plants and butterflies and such. Speaking of, she has fake paper butterflies hanging on the ceiling. Uses monster cans as flower pots. Has a ukulele sitting in the corner that she gave up on learning how to play.

KATE THE CHASER: Left her room the way she found it, all white walls and a single closet and a bed with no covers. Barely ever steps inside of it. It's located on the third floor.

NINA THE KILLER: Lives in the second floor. Her room genuinely looks like some kind of early 2000's emo parade. Walls covered entirely in band posters (especially the main singers) and an unholy amount of plushies, mostly sanrio ones. Has a shelf only for her Monster High dolls.

SALLY: Second floor. Any little girl's dream bedroom. Fairy lights, pink walls, an insane amount of plushies and dolls as well as a dollhouse. Has some of her drawings pinned on the walls.

bonus!

LANE: Third floor. Grey walls with some band and horror movies/series posters, especially Supernatural, along with some random sketches pinned. A lot of plants sitting around on the shelves, floor and windowsill. Windows always open. Their bed has black covers and a hand-saw fox plushie laying by the pillow.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #ray.writes #ticci toby #eyeless jack #jeff the killer #ben drowned #masky #laughing jack #hoodie #bloody painter #kate the chaser #x virus #oc.lane hellshire #nina the killer #clockwork #creepypasta sally #tulip anon

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strangersteddierthings · 1 year

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Steve, Gareth and Chrissy are cousins AU (sad edition) [prologue] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Final Part]

Steve climbs into the back of Nancy's car with Dustin, trying his best to play off his mood as having slept poorly in the Wheeler's basement, instead of the guilt and sorrow churning inside him. He had been hoping to be able to make excuses to go home for a bit today, away from the group, so he could go to Chrissy's funeral.

Doesn't seem like that will be happening. Not unless he tells them the truth. They're going to the Creel house and Steve can't let them ago without him. Can't let them walk into potential danger if he's not there.

Because Chrissy's already dead. He can't change that. But he can try his damnedest to make sure there's no one else. So, it's more important to him to be there with the living, than at a funeral. Chrissy would agree.

Chrissy would understand.

Right?

Gareth sits through Chrissy's funeral and notes that Steve's not there. No one from the Harrington household is. He doesn't know what to feel about that. All his sorrow has been spent on Chrissy, so all he feels for Steve is anger. What the fuck is more important to Steve right now than being here? For his family. For Chrissy. For him.

He sits next to Jason even though his mom left a spot next to her available for him. He's not suddenly Jason's best friend, but he was told they plan to continue their search immediately after the funeral, and if he sat next to his mom, she wouldn't let him go.

This is how he finds himself at Reefer Ricks, long past the mandated curfew with just Jason, Andy, and Patrick. The others having slowly dropped off the search the closer to night it got.

"Hey," Gareth calls out to Jason before entering the house, "I'm going to go check if Eddie's van is hidden where he usually parks it when he comes out here."

Jason pauses on his way through the door. He looks over his shoulder and gives a nod, "yeah, smart thinking. There should be a flashlight in the back of the car."

Gareth nods back and heads back to the car. It doesn't take long to find the flashlight and soon he's walking down the road. It's not a long walk, about fifteen minutes away is a cluster of trees that Eddie parks at when he comes to get more goods from Rick. Gareth (and their other friends) spent plenty of afternoons waiting in the van for Eddie to return from his 'job', as it were. It does keep the van out of sight of any road, though.

The van is there, and Gareth doesn't like what he sees. The driver side door is open, so he approaches slowly. "Eddie? You in there, Eddie?" he gets no response. He shines the flashlight through the back door's window, smooshing his face against the glass to look in. Once he's sure it's empty of anything, he approaches the open door and examines the front.

The keys are still in the ignition. Door left open and keys still in the ignition paints a story Gareth isn't sure he wants to read. That makes worry curl inside his body. He can't think of a single thing that would make Eddie abandon the van this quickly, too... scared? Worried? to bother to even close the drive door. He climbs in to try and start it but it won't. With the door left open for over 72 hours, the battery is dead.

He pockets the keys and locks up the van. If worse comes to worst, he can return the keys to Wayne.

He's almost back to the house when he hears shouting. He starts running, following the noise, and quickly finds Jason and Patrick on the shore, pulling their shoes off. His gaze flicks out to the lake and catches the sight of what can only be Eddie trying to get the motor of a motorboat started.

Well. Shit.

He doesn't think much more beyond that. He's just acting. He steps on the heels of his shoes to get out of them as quickly as possible and dives into the water. He's only seconds behind Patrick and Jason into the water, slowing to keep pace with them at first.

Gareth grew up in the Harrington swimming pool just like Steve had. Chrissy had. He's never been so glad for that as he is now, as he quits trying to pace himself and takes off, leaving Jason and Patrick behind.

Eddie's swinging the oar around wildly, as if they would stop any of them. He falters in his swinging when his eyes land on Gareth and he breathes out his name, "Gareth?"

One final stroke and Gareth can reach out of the water and grab the side of the boat. He doesn't haul himself aboard, but does haul himself high enough to look up at Eddie. "The police say you did it. Did you?"

Hurt flashes across Eddie's face but he answers, "No."

Gareth nods once, a decision made. Before he can respond though, Jason's caught up and Eddie is turning in the boat to wave the oar uselessly at him.

Clinging to the side of the boat gives Gareth a clear view of Patrick, who has stopped swimming. Jason and Eddie shout at each other as Gareth watches Patrick being to rise out of the water. "What the fucking shit!?"

Gareth doesn't know if Jason turns to look, he's too busy staring, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

"Don't look," Eddie says and the boat jostles as Eddie moves suddenly, dropping to his knees in the boat and throwing his hands up to block Gareth's view.

"What the fuck-" Gareth cuts himself off when he hears the snapping of bones. Jason is yelling and Gareth panics, pushes back from the boat, which makes Eddie lean more to block his eyesight, causing Eddie to fall out of the boat. On instinct, Gareth dives for him, the month and month spent in Steve's pool, hearing about pool safety kicking in.

Eddie doesn't really need rescuing, but he doesn't fight Gareth during the rescue. Patrick is no longer in the air when they breach the surface, and Jason is swimming back the way they came. Eddie flops himself back into the boat, then helps Gareth in as well.

They don't speak again until they've reached the other shore, in which case they just sit in the boat, soaked through, panting at each other as the adrenaline fades.

"What the fuck was that!?" Gareth doesn't shriek. He doesn't.

Eddie suddenly looks very severe and grim when he says, "that's what killed Chrissy."

#steve‚ gareth‚ and chrissy are cousins au #my fic #also i know in the show they end up at reefer ricks while there is still daylight out #his house was NOT big enough for them to search it until dark #so they just spend all day at all the other places before getting out to ricks at night #ok? ok #also why isn't gareth weighed down by his nice funeral clothes you may be asking #itself because he wore his nicest dark jeans and a black tshirt #not even chrissy could get him to dress up #short steve part‚ mostly just wanted to establish why he doesn't go to the funeral

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sillypiratelife · 9 months

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Funny / dramatic moments between fake prince!Zoro and his equally fake royal advisor!Robin:

She doesn't advise him for shit.

What actually happens is that Robin sits to read under the shade of some pretty tree while Zoro trains (shirt on to cover his scars) nearby and they discuss their thoughts on what could be going on in the kingdom.

From afar everyone thinks they are gossiping (typical of young royals), but everyone who's near enough to listen is incredibly impressed and intimidated.

This is the trip where Robin realized that Zoro barely knows how to read and decided to do something about it.

Aka Robin learns a lot about swordsmanship from the books she picked for Zoro and Zoro includes reading in his training regimen.

Zoro baits at least half a dozen people into asking Robin for "a hand". She responds by making a third hand appear out of nowhere. Every. Single. Time.

Robin is fascinated by the amount of lies that Ussop can tell about his fake childhood as the Prince's best friend. She has the memorized just in case, but it's still entertaining to see Ussop struggle.

And also very entertaining to tease Zoro with those stories. Peak royal advisor behavior.

Robin and Zoro are absolutely bullying those old men. They pass judgemental looks during their (meant as practice) court sessions that have the (very very real) captain of the royal holding his laughter.

EKRJKFJDKDK RESTING BITCH FACES not really but those people swear the smirk and relaxed behavior means Zoro and Robin are planning to murder them. No one knows if they are being sarcastic.

When they finally leave the King laments long and loud that his court sessions will never be as funny as they were with Robin and Zoro around.

They're like three different times when Robin covers Zoro with something-turned-blanket while he naps, including one time when Zoro raised his cape and invited Robin to rest her head on his shoulder and take a nap with him.

Robin is the first to notice that a) the captain of the royal guard is the real prince and b) the dude has a crush on Zoro.

She's also the only person who notices that Zoro is in love with Sanji and that Sanji is starting to realize he's not jealous of Zoro for getting to play prince, but uncomfortable at how much it makes Sanji see a different side of Zoro that he might like. A lot.

Which means that every comment she makes is undecipherable to Zoro, but means to help him realize his, uh, situation.

The local cook thinks that Robin and Zoro are together and that Chopper is their son.

Zoro chokes on wine and Robin laughs when they hear the old cook calling someone a homewrecker in the middle of dinner.

Sanji and the real prince go red in a second, which is funny on its own right.

When the fire breaks out in the castle, Zoro is the one that saved the book Robin said she really needed for her research. The way he captured the culprit was by jumping from the library window and landing on the guy.

There's a moment when they almost go on demon mode after they find the basement full of chained children in the abandoned castle. It's only almost because the children awoke when they approached and both acted all light to not scare them.

The kids get eldest daughter!Robin and oldest brother!Zoro instead. They end up with their white suits all covered in mud + blood, but there's definitely something to see them walk in through the main gates carrying so many children, soft expressions and relief on their faces.

The glint they have on their eyes when Zoro asks about the story of that castle is enough to send the castle personnel on their knees. It's only when it's revealed that the king of that particular "castle" died a few weeks ago that Zoro and Robin turn back and everyone breathes again.

Somehow they develop a kinda dry(?) sense of humor that they share mostly with smirks and the most mysterious comments ever.

Robin takes on calling Zoro "your highness" from time to time.

Zoro takes on cleaning and sharpening Robin's knife from them on.

#shan blogs about one piece!#roronoa zoro #nico robin #black leg sanji #zosan #sillypiratelife aus #fake prince!zoro

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rootsofdread · 1 year

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Thinking of Ace, Ash, Chris, Wesker and Anna with a s/o survivor with the HEAVIEST plot armor possible, as if they're from looney tunes. They are just so lucky trials get straight up comedic instead of scary — killers trip over their legs somehow, bang their heads on the trees, miss the easiest shots possible etc etc, and reader is just standing over there like "😄"

Mayhaps they could just go around helping people, since there's barely anything to do apart from that !!

🦞 eatwell

Ace Visconti:

Ace seems to love having another person around that has the same amount of dumb, “unlucky” luck that he has, too. Finally, someone who can relate to falling face-first in a patch of bushes after jumping out of a window, which really hurts, but will get the killer off of you. Though, your kind of luck usually ends with stuff like that happening to someone else instead of yourself…but he has seen you take a few tumbles down the basement stairs, and is always amazed when you’re perfectly fine afterwards. He somehow tends to be on the receiving end of your luck, he’s been tripped over and run over by the killer quite a few times while they’ve been carrying you, making them immediately drop you. But even with luck like this, he loves spending trials with you, because you make every single one fun.

Ashley J. Williams:

Honestly, Ash loves having someone like you around in the fog. Even though anyone around you tends to get hurt for your benefit, he finds it funny to watch from afar. It’s like watching a cartoon play out in real life. A safe distance, where he’s safe from being tripped over or tackled by the killer when they’re supposed to be looking for you, because he already has pretty shit luck and bringing you into the equation never makes it any better. But he is also known for poor life choices, so he does end up making the mistake of hanging a little too close to you when he probably shouldn’t. He’s been hit by missed swings that were meant for you many more times than he’d ever care to admit. But he will admit, seeing the killer run into a tree branch while chasing you down makes up for it.

Chris Redfield:

If you know Chris, you know he’s a very no-nonsense sort of guy. He doesn’t necessarily approve of the antics that seem to follow you around, but he also knows there doesn’t seem to be much that you can do about it. Most of the time, he sits back and watches you from afar to make sure you don’t get hurt or get into trouble due to…whatever it is that you seem to have. The joke is on him whenever he believes he has to jump in and save you though, because most of the time it ends with him getting tackled into the dirt by the killer when they meant to jump on you. You can probably imagine the look on his face when he gets hauled away by the killer and you’re springing away without a scratch.

Anna / The Huntress:

To put it simply, Anna gets incredibly frustrated by how well you avoid everything she throws at you. Literally. Every time she tries to throw a hatchet at you, you lean down to pick a flower and it flies off, or someone calls your name so you move and she hits a tree instead, or you just so happen to trip over a tree root at just the right time so that she hits whoever you were traveling with instead of you. She doesn’t know how you do it. How you always seem to know whenever she’s aiming to hit you. She usually resolves to just leave you alone most of the time, but she knows at some point she has to try to hit you. At least you give her good target practice…

Albert Wesker / The Mastermind:

Wesker has to admit, he’d much rather study you than try to catch you. Trying to catch you usually doesn’t end well for him or anyone in the immediate vicinity. He can’t complain when someone else falls in his path at just the right moment as you move out of the way, but you are who he’s aiming for. He decides he just needs to plan around your shenanigans, which may seem impossible to others, with how unpredictable trials can go with you thrown into the mix, but he’s a scientist. His entire life has been carved from the unpredictable, and he’ll get to the bottom of what makes you you, even if he has to endure smacking into a few trees and falling out of windows to make that happen.

#inbox #gender neutral reader #survivor reader #ace visconti #ash williams #chris redfield #the huntress #albert wesker #dbd imagines #dbd x reader #dbd x you #ace visconti x reader #ash williams x reader #chris redfield x reader #dbd anna x reader #the huntress x reader #albert wesker x reader #the mastermind x reader

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practicalsolarpunk · 1 year

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Does creating biodiversity in your yard lead to more bugs inside the house? I have a bad fear of cockroaches and I live in Texas. I want to do my part, but I also want to keep bugs out of my home.

Great question! From what I could tell from research, nobody's actually studied this much, so everything here is anecdotal. Some anecdotal evidence says it does, some says it doesn't. I personally have not noticed adding more biodiversity to outside spaces increasing the insects in my home, but I also haven't yet had the opportunity to undertake a major yard biodiversity project.

In my experience, bugs getting into your home depends on a lot more on other factors than yard biodiversity. So if you're concerned about cockroaches getting in, here are my thoughts:

Don't leave food out where possible - lots of bugs, including cockroaches, are attracted to easy sources of food. Cleaning up crumbs and rinsing leftover food off dishes and pans can discourage them.

Limit sources of water - standing water attracts all kinds of bugs, including cockroaches. Wipe up spills, make sure your drains are draining, don't let water sit in dishes too long, and make sure there's no leaky pipes providing sources of moisture.

Reduce clutter in dark, less-used spaces - if you have a lot of stuff in an attic, basement, or garage, consider decluttering or at least organizing it. Roaches love to hide in those spaces, and less hiding spaces makes it more likely they'll look elsewhere.

Create habitat far from your home - if cockroaches are common in your area, consider creating a habitat on your property but as far from your home as possible. Cockroaches don't care if they're in your house or somewhere else, they just want access to food, water, and shelter. If you give them somewhere to live besides your house (even a brush pile is good - anywhere shaded, full of small spaces, and preferably with some kind of water access), chances are good they'll go there instead of bothering with your house.

Consider a "barrier zone" around your home - creating biodiversity doesn't have to mean having a jungle right up next to your house. Consider creating a space directly around your house with very little shelter for bugs. It will discourage them from getting close to your home in the first place.

Seal cracks - cockroaches can get in through even tiny cracks and gaps. For extra help keeping them out, seal cracks around windows and doors and check for any gaps in walls or siding that they might be able to squeeze through.

Peppermint - roaches (and most bugs) hate the smell of peppermint. If it won't bother any pets or people in your home, consider spraying a peppermint scent around baseboards and places roaches like to hide. You could also consider planting peppermint close to your house or in your "barrier zone" to discurage them further (although all mint plants spread like crazy, so either create some sort of barrier or keep it in pots to keep it contained).

Hope this helps! Followers, feel free to chime in - especially anyone who knows more about insects and biodiversity in Texas specifically!

- Mod J

#asked and answered #insects

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wintersxani · 1 year

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𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤'𝐬 𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Emily Prentiss x Fem!reader

Warning(s): use of y/n, death of y/n, Emily having to witness it, implied SA, just sad overall

Word count: 2041

Characters: Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, Jennifer Jareau, Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid

Summary: When you get captured by an unsub and your team finds out where you are, your lover and coworker, Emily Prentiss, seeks you out. Only she’s too late to save you.

She blamed herself for not driving home with you the night the unsub took you from outside your shared apartment. The work she had done could've waited... and maybe you would've still been with her and your guys' team. "Emily, we might've got something." Derek informed from across the alley they had been in, where the unsub had dumped his last victim. 'Clock's ticking' was carved into the girl's abdomen, serving as a reminder of the time you had left alive was thinning. Desolately, she stared at this poor girl, just like she had the past two. Seeing the state she was in... she knew what their unsub had in store for you, and it made her want to scream- lash out; hurt somebody. Hurt Robert Delmont- the man who was hiding you.

Emily's gaze moved from the lifeless body to Derek, who rushed over with his phone extended. "Okay, talk to me baby." He eagerly spoke into the phone, examining his coworker's distraught expression as his own heart raced. "I found Robert's house. I narrowed down your area and used the information you guys provided- and I found it. 24 Newberg Road, you're about six minutes away."

Emily hadn't wasted a second before running towards her SUV; Derek on her tail replied: "Copy that, thanks Garcia."

"Godspeed, guys. Save our girl." Penelope spoke from the other end, ending the call to inform the rest of the team as Derek and Emily climbed in the car, speeding to the home you were being held in.

Faintly through the singular basement window, you could see flashing red and blue lights. Relief washed over you as tears fell down your cheeks. You struggled against the restraints you were held in, arms sore from being held in the same upwards position for these past 8 & 1/2 hours. You could hear the steel door creek open and shut as footsteps descending followed. Your relief left you as you met face to face with Robert, who rushed towards you, throwing a punch to your face. "They think they're going to save you."

Your lip was already busted, and you had cuts and bruises marking your whole body. He moved behind you, putting a blade up to your neck. Your breath hitched as he pulled your head back by your hair, whispering in your ear; "Time to prove them wrong."

Emily had already been out of the passenger's side before it came to a full stop, rushing inside the home. Derek followed after her, whisper-yelling for her to wait. She didn't oblige, rather rushed in anyway. In no way was she going to string out the little time you had left. She motioned for Derek to search upstairs, receiving a nod in return. They both should've waited for the rest of their team, but Emily already made it clear she couldn't wait, and Derek understood. This was personal... and time wasn't in their favor, if Robert was following his 10 hours spent with each victim.

Her heart was pounding as she neared every corner, pausing when she observed the steel door cracked open. While she should've retrieved Derek for backup, she went down instead, keeping her gun aimed ahead. The door shut behind her, leaving her in total darkness as it made a beeping noise. Only then did she realize that it had no handle on the inside, but that it needed a keycard, likely installed by the twisted killer who brought women down here, guaranteeing that escaping was out of the question. The air was cold and bitter down here, smelling of metal and mildew; agony so potent in the air. She breathed heavily, continuing her descent as she prepared for what laid ahead.

But nothing could've prepared her to meet face to face with you, strung up and beaten. So vulnerable and broken. A tang of pain struck her heart as she watched your face pinch, tears mixing with the crimson on your cheeks. The knife against your neck made her blood run cold as she aimed at the unsub. "Back away and drop the knife." Her voice came out firm as she remained at a safe distance, not wanting to push the Delmont man. "Ah, Emily Prentiss."

"I said back away and drop the-"

"I do that and you put me in prison, or I kill her and you kill me. Doesn't seem like a win-win situation, now does it?"

"Let her go." She ordered, unable to tell the man that she didn't want to shoot him. If anything, she wanted to torture him for the trauma he had inflicted on you. Make him feel every bit of pain you have felt- every bit of pain she had felt in the absence of you.

"I know how deeply you care for her... she's so... extravagant. I'd want her too. Well, I had her... that's for sure." He chuckled as you shut your eyes tightly. Her lip curled as her eyebrows furrowed, reminding herself of the oath she took for this job. An oath that she wished didn't exist in this very moment. "You son of a bitch."

"You want me to slit her throat right now? I will."

"You know what I want you to do. If you comply, we can negotiate-"

"We both know that's bullshit. Don't we?" He stated, turning to put his lips up to your ear at the last part. You tried to pull away, but he yanked your head back. Emily was panicking because she didn't have a clear shot of him. He was perfectly blocked by your shaking body, and you would be hit in order to get him, no matter the angle.

"You walk out those doors and leave, I'll spare her. Leave her for you to find in a couple days."

"I'm not negotiating this with you."

"I thought you wanted to negotiate? Don't you want her alive?" He started, tilting his head as he watched Emily's expression harden. "I can leave her lifeless if you'd prefer... yeah. Yeah that sounds better." Pounding came from the steel door upstairs as all three below heard Derek's shouts. "Clock's ticking." He grinned as Emily's body shivered, mouth opening to speak. "No. Times up." He finalized; In a swift motion, he sliced your neck open as you cried out. Her body stilled, though her reflexes didn't waste a second to shoot his withdrawn arm. He scampered to the side, clutching his arm as he rushed towards her. She was quicker, firing one final shot that knocked him down for good.

Her gaze moved back at you, watching the blood pour to the ground below your bowed head. "Y/n-" spit from her mouth as she rushed towards you, untying the ropes around your wrists, letting you fall into her arms. You were coughing on your own blood as she tried to turn you on your side, clearing your airway as she applied pressure to your open wound. "Stay with me my love, stay with me." She instructed, pushing the hair out of your face as you looked up at her.

Never had she felt fear like this before as her arms desperately pulled your shaking body closer to hers, trying to keep you curled into her like you would several nights spent together. She'd whisper how much she loved you as she held you dearly as she'd kiss your head, reminding you that in those moments, it was just you two. Not the job, not the world. You were each other's safe havens; the only light outside the dark they faced every day.

"I'm right here. I've got you, love. Stay with me." She spoke quickly, keeping pressure as crimson spilled over her fingers. You were struggling to breath, but you needed to speak; you knew you weren't leaving this basement, just like you knew she was denying that truth. It pained you to be aware of your fate when you had finally found the other half to your soul that spent every waking moment reminding you of what real love was. Slowly, your arm rested on her hand upon your neck, grasping it. Her broken eyes peered down at you as both of you could hear your other team members desperately trying to get through that godforsaken door, calling out your guys' names.

"They're going to get us out of here... and we're gonna get you to a hospital- you're gonna be okay. I- I'm right here." She insisted, clenching her jaw as she fought back the tears lining her waterline. If you saw her break, she was sure you would too. She needed to be strong, but all you needed in this moment was her. "Em-" You tried, unable to continue as blood poured from the corner of your mouth. "Don't try to talk honey-"

"Emily." You managed to get out, choking on your blood as her head slightly shook. "Lis-listen to me." Your hand squeezed hers as she tried to talk again. "You k-know what's going t-to happen."

"No."

"Emily-"

"No-"

"I'm not going to m-make it."

"No! No I don't accept that." She exclaimed, her head shaking vigorously as a sob slipped from her throat. "Em, please-" You tried, but she cut you off as tears now began to fall down her cheeks. "I can't- I can't accept that. I need you. I'm always going to need you." Her voice was utterly broken; already in denial, she couldn't stop shaking her head at you, pushing away the thoughts of what life would be like when she stepped outside of this house, knowing you weren't ever coming home with her.

"I love you s-" You had started, beginning to fade out of consciousness. Her eyes widened as she used her arm from under you to touch your face, pulling your body up to hers. "So much." You managed to finish, though your eyes were slowly shutting. Exhaustion wasn't even a comparable word to what you were feeling. When the pain started to fade, and you began to feel numb, you knew your time was up. "Hey- Stay with me y/n." She slightly shook you; your eyes weren't fully closed, but your eyelids were drooped. "Please stay with me." Her words were quiet, small. So much pain was laced in those four words as she felt the exact moment your life left your body.

Her body stilled as she pulled back to look at your face; eyelids were still drooped, but you were gone. Her jaw slowly slacked as she shook her head, removing her hand from your throat before placing it on your cheek, gently tilting your head at an angle where you would be able to see her. "No- no please!" Sobs were spilling from her lips as her chest heaved, thumb stroking your face delicately. "I need you-"

A loud, ground shaking bang came from the upstairs as she pulled your lifeless body up against her chest, cradling the back of your head over her shoulder as the other hand tightly held your bare waist. "Emily!" Derek's voice erupted from the stairway as several footsteps boomed from afar.

"I love you- I love you so much." She wept, eyes shut tightly as the rest of her team members made it downstairs, halting at the sight. The unsub's body had been the first thing observed, but the sight of Emily cradling your lifeless body- seeing Emily shattered in a way that they'd never seen before caused them to still.

JJ's hand covered her mouth as Hotch lowered his gun, tears beginning to brim in his own eyes despite his usual cold exterior. Rossi & Spencer beside him unable to watch as he turned away, walking into JJ's embrace. Then there was Derek, who stood with his mouth agape, heart plummeting. One of his best friends was forever broken, and the other dead.

Eventually, JJ had to pull Emily from your body, which took a tremendous amount of effort to do. Your lover had refused to let you go as she cried I'm sorry's and pleas for you to come back to her. Knowing you died before she said I love you back destroyed her. She just wanted to hold you; to kiss you one more time. Yet all she could do was kiss your forehead as they removed you from her arms, watching your hand leave hers.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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