#The Wrong Side of Murder Creek
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I tell this story to myself often.
It's a story Spike Lee produced in Son of the South, based on the book The Wrong Side of Murder Creek: A White Southerner in the Freedom Movement. That's Bob Zellner's autobiography, and in there he quilts together his life story that resists his white supremacist Alabama upbringing and changes his path toward racial justice.
Bob’s father, James Abram Zellner, was an Alabama Klan evangelist, called a “Kleagle” in Klan nomenclature. He attended a local junior college founded “to teach Klanism” in the panhandle of Florida.
You know it well. It was Bob Jones College. He graduated in 1932.
Around 1935, James traveled to Eastern Europe with Bob Jones Sr., promoting that Southern-grown ideology “to the Jews,” according to his son. Bob Jones, of course, left the effort after a short time, but James stayed on, enduring a grueling, lonely trip for a twenty-three-year-old. Jones himself said in a “chapel talk” in Cleveland, Tennessee, in March 1935, that James was “plough[ing] through the snow, sleep[ing] in barns, and eat[ing] black bread” that year.
Zellner’s son Bob--named after Bob Jones--describes his father’s mission trip as forcing an internal struggle:
Patriotism and nationalism vied in Dad’s soul with the racist beliefs he had actively espoused since boyhood. The fascists would soon be enemies of his country, yet their ideology was close to his own.
Think of it. James was in Eastern Europe, seeing the rise of a terrorizing nationalism, and it was beginning to dawn on him that this ideology was no different than his fundamentalism -- than his Klandamentalism.
Several months into his trip, James Zellner had his “defining experience." Bob describes it in his book:
It was the dead of winter and my father traveled in deep snow, mostly by horse drawn sled, with no one but a guide and a Latvian interpreter. Going from one little secret church to another scattered across the Russian hinterland, my father’s small band of outlaws joined up with the group of gospel singers from the United States, who were making the same underground rounds. It had been so long since Dad had heard any native English spoken, he was transported with delight. What is more, they spoke with Southern accents. Daddy said, “Bob, it was so wonderful seeing people from home.”
The Southern “gospel singers” were cut from the same cloth as James. They spoke with the same dialect. They were after the same goal. Kenneth Burke would say that James and they were “consubstantial.”
However, Bob explains further:
the singers were all Black. It was the first time in his life, Dad told me, that he spent whole days and nights with Black people. “We preached together and sang, we ate together in the homes of the poor people, many times using our fingers as there were few utensils, reaching in the common pot of potatoes with small pieces of salt-meat, and maybe some cabbage. We even slept together, either in one big bed or huddled together on the floor for warmth beneath some thin and ancient blankets. We talked about home and food and a warm fire and the most disconcerting thing kept happening. I forgot that they were Black!”
Today in 2023, we bristle at Zellner’s foregrounding of “color blindness.” In not seeing while he is eating with, working with, and sleeping with his compatriots, he is glossing over his own necessary wrestling with his unjust ideology. But James told his son that his chosen sightlessness could not stick:
"It finally got to bothering me so much I just determined to make it light on myself and forget about color while I was here and just go back to the old way when I got back home. But, you know, things never were the same after living with my friends and not thinking about what color we were,” he said, “It certainly ruined me as a Klansman, that’s for sure.”
Empathy changed him. It changed his membership, his faith, and his children. Identification “ruined” his hate. Bob Zellner describes his father’s experience as a narrative of struggle between white supremacy and virtue:
Being an intelligent man and a real believer in the gospel of Jesus, Dad was forced to wrestle with the deep beliefs from his childhood. In the final analysis he could not reconcile his belief in white supremacy with the high ideals of his country, the teachings of his church and Bible, his innate intelligence, and, now, his own experience in Europe.
When Dad finally broke with his Klan brothers in the mid-1940s, Mom happily cut up his Klan robes and made white shirts for us boys to wear to Sunday school.
KKK robes were redeemed for Sunday best.
For both Zellners, Klannishness was more aligned with the Third Reich than America. But an outsider did not dismantle Zellner’s narrative. It took that internal struggle for James Zellner to finally repent of his Klandamentalism.
I tell Zellner’s story often. The story reminds me that ordinary people can choose kindness and justice over tribalism and tragedy.
Bob Zellner would go on to march with Martin Luther King, Jr. on Selma. Imagine it -- a man named after the founder of a school dedicated to teach Klanism, named after the Klan preacher who married his parents, named after Bob Jones himself, our Bob Jones -- that man marched for justice.
On this Maundy Thursday when we remember Christ's greatest commandment to "love one another," may this story of James Abram Zellner's repentance goad us to the same repentance.
May we all follow Christ and love one another -- that is, love the Other.
#Bob Jones University#Bob Zellner#Son of the South#Bob Jones College#James Abram Zellner#The Wrong Side of Murder Creek#Spike Lee#Klandamentalism#Youtube#Class of 1932
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Leave it to the land - Chapter 5
The world has ended, it's over—except some people can't seem to accept that. Those same people think the cure lies in people like you and your little sister. And they're willing to do anything to find it.
Read it on ao3.
Tag list: @elentiyaiswriting
You actually sleep this time. Ghost can tell the difference straight off, when the tension finally leaves your shoulders for the first time in three days.
He's usually good at reading people but he's not fully sure what to make of you. After that time on the roof, he'd thought you were hopeless, thought they'd be babysitting you as you froze up every two minutes.
Then when he'd opened the door back at the safehouse and you'd practically ran into him, there'd been this blazing look in your eyes, like you were ready to set the world on fire.
He'd felt it again, in the creek. You practically vibrated with an energy, with that tiny knife clutched in your hand like you were ready to take on the whole world with it, and win.
He wonders if that's why Gaz likes you. And he must like you, if he told you about one of the safehouses—they're not meant to tell people about the safehouses, no matter what.
Ghost is usually good at reading people but he's always read Kyle Garrick as a cautious, smart man and he can't figure out what made him trust you so wholeheartedly.
Which means you're someone he hasn't read very well at all.
After Ghost and Soap don't murder you in your sleep, it doesn't really make sense to stay awake every night.
You still keep Dot close to your side and take your turns taking watch every night, even though Ghost and Soap never let you keep watch alone. After a few nights, you finally snap while you’re alone with Soap.
“Do neither of you trust me not to let us all get eaten, or is it just him?” You jerk your head in the direction of Ghost's tent.
Soap laughs.
“It’s definitely both of us,” he tells you and it's harder to be angry when he's grinning at you but you refuse to let your mouth twitch.
“Ghost is just cautious, hen,” Soap finally tells you. “Two sets of eyes are better than the wan.”
“You don't seem cautious,” you observe.
“Maybe cautious is the wrong word. A’m cautious. Ghost is more like … paranoid.”
And isn't that the understatement of the century.
Soap tells you more about himself as the days pass, either while you share watches or during the day as you walk.
He tells you how he was born in Scotland, the youngest of a family full of sisters, how he enlisted in the army and left home at 18.
He tells you how he worked with Kyle, calls him a good lad.
He explains that when things started to go bad, they were called back. From one warzone to another.
Dot walks a little closer to Soap now, always keeping either him or you between herself and Ghost. You get it. Soap, with his broad accent and constant jokes, feels safe. Ghost feels like any child's nightmare.
On the fifth day, you wake later than anyone else.
Embarrassed, you join Soap and Ghost where they're sitting, examining a map, after checking on Dot. She's eating some kind of granola bar—you assume Soap gave it to her. You suppose you should be happy she's getting more to eat, and try not to feel weird about him giving her food.
Soap turns to you as you approach them.
“Getting down to it now, hen,” he says. “Ya need to tell us where we're goin’ next.”
You hesitate. You have two options now—you can tell them where the safehouse is and make your break for it before you ever get there, or you can find Kyle first, and hope he chooses to help you over his supposed friends.
You refuse to believe Kyle knows anything about the lab in the city. He'd been so adamant he'd get you out when you told him.
“Won't let them make you do anything. Especially not something like … that.”
Kyle will help you, you're sure of it. But if the two of you go against Ghost and Soap, you're not sure you'll be able to hold your own, even if you are technically even in terms of numbers. Things could get ugly once they realise Kyle doesn't want to hand you and Dot over for a payday.
You take the map from Soap. Your eyes zero in on a large red X seemingly a few miles from here. Soap sees your fingers trail over it.
“Army base—they set up a medical camp there in the early days. Still pretty overrun.”
You nod and focus on the rest of the paper.
“Here,” you point to the place on the map, the one Kyle had shown you the night before everything went to shit. Soap hums and makes a circle where you've pointed, then tugs the map out of your hands, holding it out to Ghost instead.
“Right in the centre of the city. Figures,” Soap tells him. Ghost grunts.
“Let's move while we've got good light,” Ghost tells them. Soap nods and calls over to Dot.
“You ready to go, hen? Get that horse saddled up, eh?”
You only half hear Dot’s laughing protests about Pegasus not being a horse. You're less than a day's walk away from the safehouse now. You'll be there by the time night falls.
The rest of the day passes without incident. As you get closer to the city, you come across more and more of the dead. You, Soap, and Ghost dispose of them without issue. Without ever discussing it, you've started to put Dot in the centre with the three of you forming a loose circle around her. You're not sure when it happened but you know it means she’ll be more protected.
At least until they try to hand us over to the sentries. You force yourself to keep remembering that.
It's just starting to get dark when you reach the edge of the city. You stop just short of the tree line and look down. You put your hand on Dot's head. You could feel her getting increasingly more nervous each time you came across a tier five and you try to comfort her without saying anything.
“Looks like there's an old apartment building up this side street that’s close to where we're going.” You turn your eyes to where Soap is pointing.
“Could be a good place to keep a look out, scope out if the place is empty or not. What d'ya reckon?” he asks.
“Could be,” Ghost says, gruff as always.
“I'll check it out. You cover me.”
You raise an eyebrow at that.
“You think we should split up?” You make it clear from your voice how much you like that idea. Soap shakes his head at you.
“Scout clears the area and checks it's safe before sending the whole team in, hen. Standard practice.”
Standard practice. Military men . Of course.
“Well, why you?” You make an effort not to look at Ghost but the implication, why not him?, hangs in the air.
“Way we do it—way we've always done it.” Soap's tone of voice brokers no argument.
“We'll hole up in that one.” Ghost points at a smaller, closer building. “Good vantage point to pick off any problems.”
There's not much point arguing, not when the sun is already starting to burn lower in the sky. You have no desire to be outside after dark.
“Let's go.”
This last part of the journey you make in silence. You're not alone anymore and you all know it. In the quiet, you can hear the sound you've long come to associate with the dead—shuffling feet, low groans, the occasional this as they trip over one another.
When you reach the door to the first building, Soap nods at you and Ghost, chucks Dot under the chin and heads off alone, gun tucked carefully under his arm.
The door to the building groans loudly when Ghost shoves it open. You push Dot ahead of you to squeeze through, terrified the noise will draw attention. Ghost follows you both and shoves the door closed. He disappears for a second into an adjoining room then reappears, seconds later, dragging a sturdy wooden table. After a second's hesitation, you grab the other side and together, you shove it against the door.
Ghost looks at you shrewdly for a second then starts up the stairs. You roll your eyes.
“C’mon, Dee,” you say and the three of you start to climb. It looks like you're in an old apartment building—some of the doors have welcome mats outside.
Ghost doesn't stop at any of the doors but continues as far as the stairs go before pushing open the fire exit and stepping onto the roof.
He's just stepped away from the door, with Dot following, when something lurches forwards, straight towards Dot.
You lunge forward, grabbing the knife from your belt, but before you get there, Ghost grabs the man by the scruff of the neck. The next second, you see the top of his knife protruding through the front of its skull and what once was a man slumps to your feet, finally still.
For some reason, this really annoys you.
“I would have got it,” you snap at Ghost, pushing past him. You let him secure the door himself this time while you check the rest of the roof is empty. Then you make your way to the lip of the roof to look down.
“Not too close!” you snap at Dot when she tries to follow. She juts her chin out at you, the way she does when she's annoyed but you don't care. You're way too high up to be comfortable with seeing your little sister craning over the edge.
Ghost evaluates the roof carefully, then paces along the edge of the roof, checking the scope of his gun every few seconds until he finds a spot he's happy with. Then he puts a hand to the radio strapped to his shoulder.
“Soap, how copy?” He asks. After a second, you hear Soap's voice come through the speaker.
“Clear copy. You ready?”
As soon as Ghost gives the affirmative, you're leaning over the edge of the building again, looking for him.
Eventually you notice him darting from one alleyway to the next. He's making good progress down the street. Ghost has his gun trained on his movements but so far, Soap has handled the few dead he meets on his own, quietly.
Progress is steady, but slow, and after a while, you find your eyes wandering up the street.
“Shit!” you feel rather than see Ghost's head move in your direction and you point without looking at him. He turns his head again and understands in a second, his hand flying back to the radio.
“Soap, there's a herd heading your way. Find cover.”
“Might be a bit of a problem there, LT.”
You see what he means. The portion of the street he's on seems to be filled with either shops or parking garages at floor level, each one blocked by a metal roller door. In fact, the closest escape from the street seems to be the building Soap was aiming for anyway. The problem is, it's still a distance away and the herd is moving towards it too, from the opposite direction.
Ghost seems to realise it at the same time as you do. You wonder if you imagine the second of hesitation before he reaches for his radio again.
“Gonna have to run for it. I'll cover you.”
Soap has no such hesitation and starts to run at once, almost at the exact same time as the first of the dead sees him.
Things seem to move in a blur after that. Ghost is shooting, picking off anything that gets close to Soap, but there are always more coming.
Soap slams into the front door of the building just as the first dead reach it. Ghost shoots one but another grabs at Soap's shirt. He turns and stabs it through the eye, his other hand clutching around for the door handle. You have just enough time to pray it isn't locked when he falls backwards inside. Two more dead start to follow him. Again, Ghost shoots the first but the other stumbles inside, out of your line of sight. The door slams shoot behind it.
“Soap, how copy?” Ghost's voice is tense and only gets worse when there's no answer.
“Soap, how copy?” Still nothing.
“ Johnny!”
“Clear copy, LT. All good.”
If you weren't looking at Ghost as he said it, you'd miss the second where he closes his eyes, just a second of relief, before it's gone.
“Good. Get upstairs until those fuckers clear the front. We'll need to wait until the street is empty before we come to you.”
“Copy.”
It's quiet after that.
Ghost warns you not to make a fire which rules out most of the food you have. You're looking through the bottom of the bag for a makeshift dinner when something lands on the ground next to you. You look over to see two of the MREs the two men are always eating. You clench your teeth but if it's a choice between accepting a favour from Ghost and letting Dot go hungry, you can bite your tongue about it.
About other things though … not so much.
“So,” you say later, when Dot is asleep. Ghost is staring down onto the street and you sit on the flat lip of the roof, leaning against the wall of the building so you're looking at him. “Johnny, huh?”
Ghost just grunts.
“Gonna tell me your name, too?” you ask him sweetly.
“No.”
You know you're poking the bear but you can't help it.
“If I guess, will you tell me if I get it right?”
“You know, I heard tier twos were psychic, didn't think there was anything to it.”
You scowl. In the early days, when the tiering system was first introduced, some crazies started believing that anyone categorised as a tier two were like witches, and that they had powers like psychosis and healing which was why they were more immune than others. You had heard rumours about such people in the centre and the stories about what they did to the tier twos they managed to catch. You weren't sure if any of them were true but they all made you feel sick.
As much as you dread being caught by sentries, you're more scared of being caught by people like that. Hard to reason with people desperate enough to believe such things.
“Sounds like you know a lot about tier twos,” you snap at Ghost. This comes dangerously close to admitting that you know he plans to sell you out. How many others like you has he come across and sold out?
He's quiet for so long you wonder if he might have fallen asleep standing up. It's too dark now to see even his eyes through his mask. But then-
“My brother was one.”
You jolt and stare at him, wondering if he's joking.
“You brother was what?”
Ghost shrugs.
“A tier two. Apparently. You should get some sleep. I'll take the first watch.”
You consider arguing but he's turned away from you now, clearly done with the conversation. Anyway, you're still catching up on the days of sleep you lost and you know tomorrow will be a long day, so without saying anything else, you climb into the sleeping bag next to Dot, hoping to get a few hours of sleep. You plan to wake up later in the night so you can insist on taking second watch.
And you would have done, if your sleep wasn't interrupted what felt like minutes later by a slamming door and raised voices. Your eyes snap open at once. You'd positioned the sleeping bag behind an old heating unit to block it from the worst of the wind so you can't see anything. But you don't need to be able to see. Instead you listen, hearing a bunch of voices of people you don't know. One in particular stands out.
“Lower your weapons and step towards me slowly, hands on your head,” the voice says. “Don't pull anything or I swear, I'll blow your fucking head off.”
#read on ao3#fanfic#simon ghost riley#zombie#alternate universe#john soap mactavish#call of duty#kyle gaz garrick#original character#simon riley x reader#ghost cod
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One your asks inspired this thought of out me.
Idk if Icebergs are still popular, but does a NaruHina Fic Iceberg post sound fun to you?
Basically, there's like 5 or 6 tiers (there should be a template readily available in google images) and you assign specific media (in this case, NH fics) to each tier, descending from tame tho troubling to 'stare into the abyss'-level awful. 😅
I'm just super curious now, haha. 🤪 Baiee~
I worked on this for a couple of days! Fun~
uhhh click for hopefully better quality?
The order of the fics within each category sorta matters to me, but if I thought about it harder, I'd probably change things around, so the order's not that important. And in general, the categories go from NaruHina getting hurt, to NaruHina hurting others, to NaruHina hurting each other. With a few exceptions! But if someone else were to rank this, they might categorize things differently.
It's all just my feeling. As you can see. By the category titles.
Congratulations to Sessakag, Sadistic One, BlackMajjicDuchess, and DemonOfTheFridge for scaring me the most hahahahahaha 💀
Looking at this and one would think I love freaky stories lol
I read it for the curious cat to be killed.
I have all the stories linked below :)
Darkly Mysterious, Worrying 😥
“White Kunai” by @magmawrites - Rated E, Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. A series of violent rapes and murders targeting long, dark haired, young women have caught the attention of the Hokage. Her plan? Use a qualified, long, dark haired kunoichi as bait. The only one that fits the criteria? Hinata.
“a home is a dream” by bluebeardsbrides - Rated M, Modern AU, One-shot. Naruto Uzumaki returns home with all the force maelstrom, three days after her husband’s disappearance and six years since she went and stumbled on Neji’s body floating in the creek downtown.
"Dark Shift" by brown phantom - Rated M, Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. After a solo mission goes horribly wrong, something happens to Naruto. His mask of happiness turns dark and cruel, and he turns against the village he had sworn to protect. Can he be returned to normal before it's too late?
“Distorted Minds” by Cheating Death - Rated E for graphic violence, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Her lavender eyes slowly opened, her vision blurry and distorted for a few moments as she tried to look around. It was then that she realized that she was suspended a few inches off the ground, her wrists cuffed in cold, metal shackles that hung from the ceiling.
Disturbing, Unsettling, Cursed 😶
“Asylum AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by magmawrites - Rated M, Modern AU, One-shot. What’s to say what’s real and what isn’t? The only thing that’s valid and true in all universes is their love for one another.
“Burn The House Down” by @secrettastemakerland - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Naruto shrugged, not really having an answer. He had tried to tell her they had bigger problems.
"Go Home, Start Again" by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated E, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. My submission for NH2020 February's theme "Time Loop".
"Stay" by @nightowl27-writer - Rated E, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. The basement holds much more than ashes and secrets. As urban legends come to life, people begin to disappear, and a city sits on the brink of disaster. When everything seems to be falling apart, will Hinata find the answer to the question she is terrified to ask?
Weird, Shocking, & Crazy 🤪
“His obsession” by agitosgirl - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto loved her, he loved her with everything he had and more. And when he gets back from his training trip, he’s going to show her how much he cherishes her. And she is going to be with him. Whether she wants to be or not isn’t really her choice.
"Qui Laudavit" by Avelona-and-Sally - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. One side-effect of having a demon sealed in you is a taste for blood. Another is the ability to make living and dead alike do your bidding. Which comes in handy when your girlfriend keeps dying.
“October - Horror” by @chloelapomme - Rated T, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. When despair turns into a feeling of love so intense that obsession is the only thing that can help you protect the one you love.
“Her” by browniefic - Rated E, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto’s had a lot of obsessions in his life. But he knows she’s different.
"A Woman's Heart" by Ookami88 - Rated E, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Naruto lies in hospital in coma. Sasuke is locked in prison for his crimes. Hinata comes up with a plan that will ensure her beloved man's happiness, no matter how much it'll cost her.
“A Love Never Seen” by HoneyWriter78 - Rated E and has rape/non-con, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata Hyuga attend Konoha High she is part of the athletics group. She is friends with Ino and Shikamaru but is secretly in love with Shikamaru who is oblivious and loves someone else. She tried to fight her feelings not noticing that a certain senpai has had his eyes on her…
“There’s a new psycho on the block” by agitosgirl - Rated M for mentions of sex, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete/Inconclusive Ending. What happens when it’s Hinata who’ goes crazy? Years of torment and abuse by her family’s hand have caused this young girl to lose her mind, and to top it off, her mother left her a gift that will make her enemies, or just anyone she chooses to target, regret meeting her.
"Lost Souls" from "NaruHina Month December 2022" by @sessakag - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. They set off on a journey that’d one day bring them back to their place of birth, and on that day, they’d enact the plan that had given them a sense of purpose.
"Ravenous" from "NaruHina Month December 2022" by sessakag - Rated E, Modern AU, One-shot. “Hinataaaa,” Naruto pouted, leaning inside the open bathroom door, “you ready yet? I’m starving!”
Explicitly Appalling 😨
“Side Effects” by Cheating Death - Rated E for smut, dub-con, & non-con, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. You can easily skip the rape and non-con without compromising the plot, the author warns you before it happens. When Naruto and Hinata decide to participate in a high-paying clinical study, they wind up signing up for much more than they bargained for.
“Serial Killer” by Raven Young - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. She’s a Sociopath. She’s a Supermodel. She’s a serial killer. She’s a girl in love. She is Hinata Hyuga. And he is her undoing.
“I want you to cry” and its sequel “I want you” by Devahhole - Rated E for graphic murder (character death), dub-con/non-con, and smut, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A sociopath blinded by revenge runs into his greatest opponent.
"Naruto: The Mating" by SeventhShinobi - Rated E, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Now, Naruto has discovered the an ability called "The Mating." Come see what he'll do with his new found power
Seriously Distressing 😰
“Powerless” by bunny-hoodlum - Rated E for a lot of things, like depictions of violence and character death. Multi-chapter, Incomplete. His family’s past can’t be taken at face-value, and it comes clawing back to hurt him in ways that are out of his control. DELETED FIC.
“Listen To Me” by SullyR - Rated E and includes domestic abuse & non-con, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata is terrified out of her mind. She has no choice but to listen to him or else he gets physical, and by physical, she means fast!
“Nightmare” from “Nice Legs, Daisy Dukes” by Star-Child-Yeci - Rated M, Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. “Why do you got that in your hand, huh, pet?” The words slid off his tongue, and she shivered.
Chapter 6 from “Naruhina Oneshots” by @powerful-niya - Rated E, College AU, One-shot. A new college student finally enrolls into her new school, with the help of a handsome blonde male. He helps her and cares for her which she appreciates very much. But bad rumors about him break out and eventually reaches the midnight blue-haired woman making her feel skeptical about their friendship. But cutting ties is hard, especially with a guy who already has you, under his boot.
Wtf Horrifying 😱
“Monster” by Sessakag - Rated E, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. Naruto, a celebrated war hero, finds himself, once again at the forefront of the fight, but which side is he on this time? Love. Tragedy. Happiness. Heartache. The growing pains of becoming a man, have molded, shaped and brought forth a new Naruto Uzumaki.
“Insanity” by Sadistic One - Rated E for GRAPHIC MURDER, College AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. The smell of his cologne and slight musk was the first thing that caught Hyuga Hinata’s attention. She eventually found out that smell belonged to a young man named Uzumaki Naruto. Ever since that encounter, she couldn’t stop following him and watching his every move. She needed to know who he hanged out with, his hobbies likes and dislikes. She even transferred to his school to study him more closely. But as those months went on, she discovered Naruto was not who he portrayed to be to his peers, but a cold-blooded murderer. Is this enough to put a stop to Hinata’s obsession or will it draw her closer to her own insanity?
“Breeding Season” by BlackMajjicDuchess - Rated E and has rape/non-con, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Completely out of pattern, Kyuubi leaks free and causes terrible destruction that Naruto cannot suppress. There is a solution, but it comes at a terrible price.
“Honeymoon” by DemonOfTheFridge - Rated E and has rape/non-con, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto always left on a secret mission once a year for a whole month. A curious Hinata finally had enough and followed him to an underground house. A house she finds herself trapped in, with a dark Naruto. Curiosity Killed the Cat.
This was so entertaining! If anyone agrees or would order things differently, let me know~
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Chapter 21 - Say Cheese!
Tristan was extremely nervous heading back to work after Dolores’ disappearance. What if Jacques was behind it? What if it was all just a set up to test his loyalty? After work, Jacques invited him back to name of house to celebrate Hugo and Luna’s birthday.
Tristan knew something was wrong, and tried to make his excuses to leave… but then Jacques presented him with a huge platter of grilled cheese… it was the most delicious thing Tristan had ever tasted. How could such flavour be achieved with just bread and cheese? He finished the whole plate, and felt his priorities changing…
Down at the Willow Creek Police Station, Trina was working overtime, investigating the evidence from Don Lothario’s murder. The other detectives had ruled it inconclusive, but Trina knew exactly why there was no DNA evidence… it was the bot!
The next day, Agnes accompanied Trina to the Foxbury campus to ask the advice of the Bot Savants. They promised to keep their ears to the ground about a rogue bot, and pledged their technical support if she was found. Agnes decided to enroll for a degree in physics and robotics, with a side order of knitting classes, so she would know exactly how to deactivate Nanny Susan if she could be found, and could help Trina and get those boys back where they belonged. After all, she needed to keep her mind busy, and they offered generous scholarships for very mature students!
#simblr#ts4 gameplay#sims 4 gameplay#the sims community#agnes crumplebottom#sims 4#sims 4 soap opera#the sims 4#sims soap opera#ts4#grilled cheese
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Bracket
The polls will start on Monday, 3pm EST!
Propaganda is allowed and encouraged
Media and character will be under the cut :D
Left side of the bracket:
Huntlow from the Owl house vs Jesse Swanson/Beca Mitchell from Pitch Perfect
Dimond Heart/Amethyst Heart from Magic Warrior Dimond Heart vs Sayaka Miki/Kyoko Sakura from Madoka Magica
Jesse/Ally from Amphibia vs SatoSugu from Jujutsu Kaisen
Jay/Kai from Ninjago vs Stephanie Lauter/Peter Spankoffski from Hatchetfield
Nao/Reko from Your turn to die vs Max Bennett/Sandra Wilkinson from The everything goes wrong show
C.A Cuipid/ Venetia SoulSong, Venetia belongs to @rai-knightshade and C.A cupid is from Ever after high vs Alexia/Bernard from Craig in the Creek
Jack Kennedy/ Dave Miller from DSAF vs Rashmeile from Entropic Float
Mel/Cree ocs by @melodemonica vs Webber/Wendy from Don't starve
Right side of the bracket:
Luz/Willow from The owl house vs ItaFushi from Jujutsu Kaisen
Hannigram from Hanniball/Kataang from Avatar the last Airbender
Han/Lando from Star wars vsSakuSyao from Cardcaptor Sakura
Nagisa Misumi/ Honoka Yuskishiro from Precure vs Cassandra/ Alonzo from CATS
Professor Kukui/Professor Burnet from Pokemon vs Spideypool from Marvel
H.G wells / Lenore from Edgar Allen's Poe's murder mystery dinner party vs Sora/Riku from Kingdom hearts
Professor Plum./ Miss Scarlett from Clue vs Draculora/Lagoona from Monster high G3
Travlyn from Aphmau's mystreet/Bumbleby from RWBY
#ninjago#hatchetfield#fandom poll#tournament poll#poll tournament#the owl house#pitch perfect#magic warrior diamond heart#madoka magica#amphibia#jujutsu kaisen#your turn to die#everything goes wrong show#ever after high#craig in the creek#DSAF#entropic float#dont starve#hannibal#avatar the last airbender#star wars#cardcaptor sakura#precure#cats the musical#pokemon#marvel#edgar allen poe's murder mystery dinner party#kingdom hearts#clue#monster high gen 3
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Here we have a hell of a mystery in front of us.
Given the facts in front of us, suicide seems impossible. But an alternative killer seems similarly impossible.
That's not a lot of time to tamper with the body or make an escape.
Right now, Iruka seems most likely. If she shot him from the other roof while he was running, maybe his velocity combined with the force of impact to the side of his head would cause him to, like, twirl around, disguising the direction of his fall.
Then she'd be able to vanish easily, without needing to use an escape route or running afoul of our impending arrival.
...actually, that's a good question. What direction did the blood spurt, in relation to the rest of the rooftop.
Okay, no. The blood spurt is in the wrong direction there too.
Okay, orienting as if the fire escape is the "east" side of the building. The roof that Iruka could have sniped from is on the northwest side. But the blood spray came from the southwest. Which, conspicuously, is the side of the building where the explosion blew out a big chunk of it. That bomb may have been meant to disguise the means of escape.
Sniping from the next building over is officially impossible. Someone was on this roof. They had to have been.
...prooooobably should have left after we inspected all of the evidence, rather than standing around deliberating. By now, it comes as no surprise that Yuma's not good at being a fugitive.
Fortunately, the fascists are so inept that "Cheese it!" is a viable strategy for thwarting them. They even have guns and everything.
Guys, I am a wanted terrorist. If you won't open fire for that, then those things are definitely decorative.
Oh, this was definitely the wrong turn. Genuinely surprised that Guillaume comes out into the field. I figured that was solely Dominic's job. Maybe they've got that Vegeta/Nappa dynamic, where Guillaume's secretly the more dangerous of the two?
Wait, did she just call me a straw?
THAT IS NOT HYGIENIC, GUILLAUME. You're talking about fucking river water. Do you know what kind of bacteria and even parasites are probably living in that? How often do you do this?
Nuh-uh. Completely unsanitary. I refuse to go along with this until that water has been properly filtered.
THANK YOU FOR THE TIME REVERSAL, BESTIE. @_@ I was up shit creek without a paddle there. Uh. In more ways than one.
Yuma, apologize for not taking Fubuki to the crime scene.
If we had her powers, we could have rewound to back up out of the building instead of having to follow Shachi out. Then we'd be able to head to the roof and cut him off much more quickly, and would have arrived in time to witness the murder.
This mystery is your fault, Yuma.
No, Fubuki. Don't blame yourself. Blame Yuma. He's the one who told you to fuck off.
Oh. Right. The bombs are still an issue. Guess we'll have to attend to that before we can contemplate Shachi's "suicide" any further.
And we should do it fast. Time is lightning.
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𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 🎵 𝐼 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝐼 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑦 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑒!
⸺ featuring : the whole muse roster - compliments of @walkeddeath
「ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑎 𝑟𝑜𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑧. 𐕣 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹. 」 ░▒ abbey - mitski
↳ i am hungry / i have been hungry / i was born hungry / what do i need? / i am something / i have been something / i was born something / what could i be? / there is a light that i can see / but only, it seems, when there's darkness in me / there is a dream that i sometimes see / that only appears in the dark of sleep
「𝑟𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑢𝑐𝑎. 𐕣 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑮𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑳. 」 ░▒ i kill everything - deathbyromy
↳ mutilated to the point of perfection / i'm the patron saint of merciless love / just when i thought that we / had formed a connection / i got a message from the one up above / serpentine seductress love to bite back / probe me paralyze me nymphomaniac / brand me burn abduct me hyper heart attack / love to love me leave me make me come back / plagued be the body, holy and unscathed / forgive me father, for i have misbehaved / crafted like a weapon, unable to disengage / built to dismember, fill me with your rage / i kill everything i fuck / Fuck everything i kill / i kill everything i fuck / i kill everything / i am gods favorite bitch
「𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑙 𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑠. 𐕣 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑯𝑨𝑼𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑫 」 ░▒ my body is a cage - arcade fire
↳ my body is a cage / that keeps me from dancing with the one i love / but my mind holds the key / i'm standing on a stage / of fear and self-doubt / it's a hollow play / but they'll clap anyway / you're standing next to me / my mind holds the key / i'm living in an age / that calls darkness light / though my language is dead / still the shapes fill my head
「𝑒𝑛𝑧𝑜 𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑘𝑜𝑠. 𐕣 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝒀𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑫. 」 ░▒ whitehouse road - tyler childers
↳ early in the morning when the sun does rise / layin' in the bed with bloodshot eyes / late in the evenin' when the sun sinks low / that's about the time my rooster crows / i got women up and down this creek / and they keep me going and my engine clean / run me ragged but i don't fret / 'cause there ain't been one slow me down none yet / get me drinkin' that moonshine / get me higher than the grocery bill / take my troubles to the highwall / throw'em in the river and get your fill / we've been sniffing that cocaine / ain't nothin' better when the wind cuts cold / lord it's a mighty hard livin' / but a damn good feelin' to run these roads
「 𝑛𝑒𝑎 𝑘𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑛. 𐕣 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑰𝑺𝑻. 」 ░▒ sober - tool
↳ there's a shadow just behind me / shrouding every step i take / making every promise empty / pointing every finger at me / waiting like a stalking butler / who upon the finger rests / murder now the path of must we / just because the son has come / jesus, won't you fucking whistle / something but the past and done? / why can't we not be sober? / i just want to start this over / and why can't we drink forever? / i just want to start this over
「 𝑚𝑖𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑒𝑙 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤. 𐕣 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑻. 」 ░▒ marked for death - emma ruth rundle
↳ it was right that we did meet each other in each other's eyes / it was right that we did see each other in our shadow sides / it was wrong then, too, that crazy love loves crazy as it does / and each of us, and both of us so crazy as it was / who else is going to love someone like you that's marked for death? / who else is going to be with you when you breathe your last? / who else is going to take my place and hold and keep you safe? / who else is going to stay? / who else is going to love someone like me that's marked for death? / who else is going to be with me when i breathe at all? / who else would ever take your place and hold and keep me safe? / who else would ever stay?
「 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑤𝑛 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤. 𐕣 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑳𝑨𝑴𝑩. 」 ░▒ hard times - ethel cain
↳ hide me there, under the leaves / nine going on eighteen, lay it on me / tell me a story about how it ends / where you're still the good guy, i'll make pretend / 'cause i hate this story / where happiness ends and dies with you / i thought good guys get to be happy / i'm not happy / i am poison in the water and unhappy / little girl who needs her daddy real bad (real bad) / in the corner, on my birthday, you watched me / dancing right there in the grass / i was too young to notice / that some types of love could be bad
「 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑎𝑛 𝑙𝑒𝑒. 𐕣 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑩𝑰𝑫 」 ░▒ darkside - bring me the horizon
↳ something haunts me / footsteps in the basement / out of body / but there's no escaping / something's in the way / don't know what i can say / memories are haunting me / a sickness taking over / so bury me alive / there's nowhere left to hide / and say goodbye / 'cause maybe i / maybe i will miss me when I'm gone
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Desolate [Part 4]
[Yandere!Ikaris/GN!Reader]
chapters: part one part two part three
Summary: Some truths come out.
[Warning for spoilers. Set after Eternals (2021), although quite a bit of canon is used loosely. Mentions of Mahd Wy’ry.]
Warnings: nightmares, blood, former Ikaris/Sersi, auditory hallucinations, etc.
A/N: slow chapter. sorry for the long wait.
Edited. Replaced picture.
Do NOT interact if you are a minor.
England, somewhere in the 1200s A.D
Ikaris felt the wet crunch of soaked early autumn leaves under his leather shoes, looking down at his glassy reflection in the water of the creek the Eternals had set up camp, nearby a small village, where Ajak pathetic murderer murderer you killed Ajak you are a monster had heard of a possible Deviant location. 13th century England was the last place any of the Eternals had expected to go, with a great many empires and civilisations popping up at every opportunity to protect and guide, but Ajak had insisted on quickly solving this Deviant issue here before moving anywhere else.
After a particularly nasty quarrel with Druig —over, frankly, nothing important in the long run— he had angrily flown out of the Domo to calm himself down. He ended up in the creek nearby, where he was right now, looking at his reflection.
Looking away from the clear water, Ikaris noticed Ajak meditating near the Domo, clearly communicating with Arishem, evident by the clear detachment from her surroundings SHE’S DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD. He saw Thena and Gilgamesh spar, her golden constructs clashing against his golden armour, and noticed Sprite clearly attempt to trick Kingo, their illusion of a wild hound clearly working as Kingo had no clue that she had stolen his pouch of coins.
Lastly, he eyed Sersi though she didn’t seem right nothing felt right about this wake up sitting peacefully on the other side of the same creek, rustling some leaves with her hand, transmuting the dead, dry leaves into gorgeous wild daisies with a flourish of her hand, golden energy flowing through the flora. His heart fluttered in his chest this is a dream wake up wake up this is a dream dream wake up up wake up as he continued staring, and he swiftly lifted himself from the ground, quietly flying towards her.
“Hello, Ikaris,” Sersi chuckled, feeling his presence next to her as he landed next to her and sat down, tucking his head onto her shoulder wake up she hates you you wake up. Ikaris felt at peace, simmering rage slowly subsiding as he watched deft hands pick at the petals of the daisies and release them into the chilly autumn wind.
“You’re not usually the affectionate type, Ikaris,” Sersi remarked as she set down the remaining blooms and stroked his cheek, which he melted into. “What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing, Sersi.”
She you’re dreaming Ikaris wake up and face reality sighed at Ikaris’ attempt to show a brave face, knowing about his squabble with Druig. News traveled fast among the Eternals (it wasn’t hard when there were only ten of them in a concentrated area.). Trying to avoid the topic, Ikaris nuzzled himself into your? Sersi’s shoulder, arms wrapping around her she’s not you waist.
“Sometimes, I wish I could stay by your side forever, Sersi,” Ikaris purred. Her she isn’t real face was unreadable as she tried to take in Ikaris’ words, mind searching for an answer. Ikaris hears a distant, faint hum.
“You should let me go. We aren’t together anymore...you broke it off with me, remember?”
Ikaris freezes, suddenly aware in the oddness of the conversation. He remembered this day. He remembered Sersi acknowledging his words, at least, that was supposed to happen, right up until Sersi’s YOU I want you you not her you who you her her not her response had slapped him in the face like cold water did to a human. The hum grows into a static buzz. Louder. Louder.
“Wait...what do you mean? N–no, this isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.” He spluttered as he let go of Sersi’s WHO ARE YOU waist and stood up abruptly, feeling the wrongness of this entire scenario. “I remember the day. You agreed with me. We’re supposed to be together here...what’s...wha—”
Everything feels too wrong, everything is too loud and Sersi doesn’t want to be with him YOU NOT HER I WANT YOU and what was that noise it’s too loud it reminds him of his guilt and shame reality is reaching him faster and faster the nOISE IS TOO LOUD STOP PLEA—
Ikaris’ eyes flutter open violently and he immediately pushes himself off something soft with an anguished yell, breathing heavy and pained, his face damp with sweat. He heaves loudly, the strange dream still freshly stored in his mind. Stormy blue eyes look around wildly, glancing manically at white walls, a soft tapestry and potted plants here and there, trying to gauge where he is and regain his bearings when he sees you.
You’re sitting on an armchair in the sunlight, clearly startled awake from his sudden outburst, the soft blanket around your shivering shoulders slipping off. He realised, eyes widening, that he was in your bedroom, sleeping on your plush bed, instead of the couch he had been sleeping on for the past two weeks that he had lived in your house. He was still in his clothes from before, dark and inky Deviant blood staining the otherwise pristine bedsheets and blanket.
He was about to reach out to you and speak when he groaned sharply to himself, suddenly feeling waves of pain shock his entire body as he crunched into himself to wait out the agonising sensations, eyeing his bloodstained hands through squinted eyes to ground himself.
You quickly flew from your armchair, anticipating the worst as a blood-curdling scream let out in frustration by Ikaris suddenly froze you in place, unsure and panicking.
Ikaris tried to ignore the way his legs twitched as if they were pierced with pins and needles, his chest aching like it was being stabbed by several of Thena’s golden constructs. His heart also felt like it sank deep, deeper to unreachable depths, realising he needed to offer you some kind of explanation for his harrowing, bloodied appearance and disturbing behaviour from before.
“Ikaris! Please tell me you’re alrig—”
“—how long had I passed out?” He choked out, ignoring your request, pain still flowing through him, gold threads of cosmic energy flickering violently under his pale skin.
“Nine...nineteen hours. It’s like, ten o’clock..in the morning,” you stutter worriedly, still stuck in your spot, eyeing the ticking clock right above your bed. Ikaris groaned once more as he leaned into himself further, trying to ride out the agony he was experiencing.
“R-right. Okay.”
As the pain slowly subsided and the gold threads stopped flashing after an agonising minute or two, Ikaris shivered, slowly returning his broken gaze back to your own skittish one, as you quickly shook yourself out of your frozen stupor and swiftly reached the bed, placing yourself right next to Ikaris as you opened your mouth to speak.
“Ikaris. We...we need to talk.”
He sighed sadly, heart aching and mind turning.
“I know.”
§
Ikaris had to lie.
Well, lying was probably too harsh of a word. Lying to you would feel like stabbing his metaphorical heart over and over again please it hurts to be deceitful to you like this, and you already knew something was up with him. It would be a fruitless endeavour to try otherwise.
So what he confessed was the truth...with a lot of omissions and some half-truths to hide his true involvement. He couldn’t tell you that he—
He couldn’t tell the whole truth. He had already hurt you once in the alleyway. He couldn’t bear to betray your trust in him.
“So...you're telling that you're an Eternal.”
That he was. He nodded, trying to think of an answer to that, as your curious eyes indicated that you clearly wanted to know more.
“We Eternals, we're synthetic beings, created to hunt Deviants, creatures that have roamed this earth and antagonised the human race. I...along with nine others, came to this Earth seven thousand years ago to eradicate them and protect humanity.”
You mulled over his words, clearly trying to process what he told you.
"Does that explain the black stuff on you and the bed? You killed a Deviant?" He nods, confirming your suspicions.
"Several, actually. They've been popping up a lot more frequently." BECAUSE OF YOU! YOU RELEASED THEM FROM THE ICE YOU—
“That also explains how you were able to survive falling from space, I guess,” you try to joke, earning a sombre huff from the bulky man in front of you, who nodded nervously. Your gears were turning, thinking of the statue you saw on TV and how Ikaris had freaked out over it. He seemed to also be connected to that.
“So...you were involved with the gigantic marble statue...thing in the Indian Ocean? What even is that?” You questioned, clearly confused as to how he could be involved with that.
Ikaris froze, trying to quickly spin something in his mind to tell you, pushing away the loud voices yelling at him to stop spilling everything to you, to hide away the events of that cursed day. He couldn’t tell you that he had wanted Tiamut to break through the Earth’s surface, destroying the entire world and you along with it.
(Now that he had met you, his thoughts bubbled with anger at how he could be so foolish to leave you to die along with the rest of humanity. Disembodied voices mock his quickly growing attachment to you.)
“That statue. Th-that’s a corpse of a Celestial.”
You were clearly even more dumbfounded, brows scrunching in complete confusion. Of course you didn’t know what a Celestial was, Ikaris internally screamed at himself. You were never supposed to know. And yet here Ikaris was, telling you about them.
“The Celestials created us. That one, in the ocean, was about to...emerge, but the other Eternals killed it by turning it into marble before it fully surfaced. They’re foolish for what they did...what we did was all for nothing...”
The last sentence was uttered bitterly, with so much poison soaked in those words he spat out that you had to push yourself back from him, clearing some distance between you and Ikaris on the soft bed.
“You talk like what they did was a bad thing!” You suddenly blurted out, shocking Ikaris out of his angered brooding.
“Listen, I might be a little biased as a human, but I think humanity deserves to not be blown up by a huge-ass Celestial growing out the earth's surface, without us being in the know.”
He hung his head, trying not to disagree, if only to placate you before you started arguing. You sighed, noticing Ikaris’ guilty expression. He clearly seemed to regret his resentful words. You reached a shaky hand to his face, stroking his scruffy cheek as a form of comfort. He leaned into it, eyes closed and brows furrowed in pain that seemed to run deeper than a physical injury ever could.
“I’m sorry,” he exclaimed, eyes opening slightly to eye you. “I shouldn’t have been so...callous about my words.” He grabbed your hand that rested on his cheek and lowered it, tightly caressing it as if it was his last tether that connected him to this plane of existence. “I should have considered your feelings about this.”
You eyed him sympathetically, trying to understand his point of view. If what he said was true and he had lived for seven thousand years, possibly more, which was much longer than you had ever existed, seeing humanity for all its good and bad would make him much colder towards you all, you tried to justify in your head. You slowly squirmed your hand out of his surprisingly tight grasp, leaving your hand sore and aching.
“Not just me. Everyone on this planet,” you said with a soft stare. “But...I get it. You’ve probably seen everything about us. All the good, all the bad...I understand if you’re absolutely jaded with us humans.” You massaged your hand to soothe the pain from his tight hold, while Ikaris sighed and nodded, looking rather solemn. You looked back up at him, speaking once more.
“If you’re comfortable later on, you can, you know, tell me about your life here on Earth, tell me about your other Eternal friends, all that. I’d love to talk with you about it. That’s...that’s if you’re ever up for it,” you mumbled quickly, surprising the Eternal, whose eyes lit up slightly, his icy blue gaze melting at your kind words.
“I wouldn’t mind. Thank...thank you for the offer.”
Quiet filled your bedroom as you both sat silently, just enjoying the comfortable silence between you two.
You then suddenly realised—with a mildly disgusted sniff—that there was a rather pungent smell coming from somewhere, and you began sniffing around. Looking back at Ikaris, who was still sitting on the stained bed, you realised he was still covered in blue-black blood from before, the bloodstains absolutely reeking of tar and death. You had to hold back from throwing up as you locked eyes with Ikaris once more.
“Ikaris.”
He hummed in acknowledgement.
“D-do you mind taking a bath? You stink, like real bad.”
§
An hour or so later, you were sitting on your rather uncomfortable couch, flipping through the same four television channels, absolutely bored out of your mind as you continued clicking on your remote controller. You would have loved to use your phone, but after the crash almost three weeks ago, your phone was still busted, and you never had enough time, with you constantly fixing up your parent’s house and dealing with Ikaris, to go get it fixed.
You made a mental note to find a phone repair shop in your hometown as you settled on a children’s cartoon channel. At least you wouldn’t be bored out of your mind with international stock market news on one channel and soap operas on the other two.
While watching the cartoon (A strange movie about the Avengers saving San Francisco from a weird-ass villain who was more of a floating head than an actual body. You wondered whether the Avengers actually authorised this shit to air for kids with how close it was to the actual Avengers’ exploits.), your thoughts wandered and brought you to think about what Ikaris was up to in the bathroom upstairs. Taking a bath shouldn’t take that long...right?
The squeeeaak of the single creaky step on the stairs answered your thoughts. Speak of the devil.
You craned your head from the television to see Ikaris shuffle down the stairs and enter the living room, still drying his damp hair with an old towel you had in the bathroom. He wore one of your old teenage t-shirts, seemingly too small on his bulky torso, wrapping around every bulge and fold of his muscles, along with a pair of your old oversized sweatpants, thankfully looking somewhat normal, if not a little awkward on his frame. He hopped on the couch alongside you, seemingly very close as both your thighs touched, surprising both of you. You both scooted away from each other, you laughing awkwardly while he stared blankly at what just happened.
“A little close there, huh,” you chuckled. He remained silent.
You turned your attention on the screen in front of you both, and a few minutes passed with silence between the both of you, made slightly uncomfortable by the fact that you two seemed to sit a little too close to each other, both pairs of hands awkwardly positioned to deliberately not touch each other.
As the climax of the movie began with the Avengers along with a young girl literally becoming a giant to fight a huge robot, you felt a heavy, oppressive energy breathe close to your neck, giving you the shivers as the hairs on your neck stood to attention. You turned your eyes for the screen to see Ikaris literally breathing down your neck as he grabbed your thigh with a possessive squeeze, the gold energy flashing under his skin as he moved a little closer to you, weirding you out further.
You quickly tapped his shoulder, trying to gently snap him out of his trance with an “Ikaris? You’re...you’re kinda right next to my face.”
That seemed to do the trick, as the gold stopped flashing under his pale skin and icy eyes seemed alive once more. Ikaris quickly scooted away, his hands quickly letting go of your thigh and grabbing his own thigh awkwardly, the whole thing wonderfully accompanied by the grunts and yells of the Avengers characters in the background. You sighed in frustration, grabbing his shoulders.
“Fuck. I’m sorry. I just...I don’t know what’s happening,” Ikaris cursed and looked at you with a worried stare, hands taut with frustration. Your brows furrowed, gently touching his shoulder to soothe his tense words.
“I thought it’d have stopped by now but...no...it can’t be Mahd Wy’ry...” Ikaris whispered to himself, confusing you once more.
“What is Mahd Wy’ry? Some kind of ailment?” You accidentally said out loud as you let go of his shoulders, making Ikaris’ eyes widen slightly as he looked at you once more, realising that he had to explain that too.
“It’s a thing...it’s something that affects the mind. You’re not aware of where you are in time, you remember countless lifetimes before you, you’re lost and you can’t seem to understand that those memories are just that...memories,” he mumbled, clearly worried that he had the same problem.
But it couldn’t be. He knew what Mahd Wy’ry looked like. Images of Thena’s whited-out eyes would haunt him, as he saw her seemingly lost to the memories that existed before she ever came to Earth, the countless lifetimes she had once experienced, ones that she should have never have had in the first place, for her mind couldn’t hold the weight of all those moments lived once and never again.
He knew what Mahd Wy’ry was supposed to be. Did he have it?
He could never be sure. He could never show his face to any of the other Eternals because of what he did, so he would never truly understand what was wrong with him.
All he did remember in those times where he was frozen in a trance was you. Your voice, your face, your scent, your everything.
You.
He longed for his memories of you to be branded into his mind for eternity.
The air was thick with tension between you two, a stark difference from earlier in the day.
§
“Are you sure this would be where the World Forge is?” Makkari signs aggressively, looking at the infinite colours of the universe from the Domo.
Thena shrugs. “This is our only hope to find them. We must try.”
A/N: Thank you for reading. Sporadic updates.
Reblogs appreciated.
#yandere marvel#yandere eternals#eternals x reader#ikaris x reader#yandere ikaris#yandere mcu#eternals x y/n#yandere x gn reader
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Stranger In A Not-So-Strange Land
Masterlist
CHAPTER TWO
Reid suspects a kid who reached out to him for help is a serial killer when he talks about killing prostitutes. Follows the events of Criminal Minds Season 2 Episode 11 “Sex, Birth, Death.”
Trigger Warnings: talks of suicide and suicidal ideation; non-graphic suicide attempt of side character
Word Count: 7,360
Tag List: @leftoverenvy @itsmeanobody @ctrljuls @theclassicgaycousin [if you want to be added to the tag list, please comment or send me an ask]
You’re walking away from the coffee machine, mug in hand, as Reid rushes by you. “What’s the rush, Reid?” you ask.
“Oh, hey guys,” JJ says, coming around the corner.
“JJ, who’s your contact at the DC police?” Reid asks, walking quickly to his desk, writing in his notebook.
“Uh, Victor Barnes,” JJ replies as you follow him. “Why? You need me to call him?”
Reid ignores her, grabbing the phones at his desk and dialing. “Hi, Detective Barnes, please.”
“What’s wrong?” Gideon asks from behind you.
Reid points at his notebook. “Need to get that to everybody as soon as possible,” he says. “Uh, hi, Detective Barnes. This is Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid at the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico. Have you had any recent murders involving prostitutes, maybe just Jane Does? They would’ve been stabbed to death and their hair would’ve been cut off by the killer.”
JJ gives you a look. What’s going on? She mouths. You shrug.
“When was the most recent victim?” Reid asks over the phone. “I’ll explain when I see you. I’ll meet you in a half hour.” He hangs up the phone.
“What’s going on?” Gideon asks.
“DC may have a serial killer,” Reid says. “And I think I just let him get away.”
“What?” you say. “What do you mean?”
“There was this kid, he came up to me at the subway. He said he went to my lecture about how we caught the Mill Creek killer. He started asking questions, and then asked what it would mean if someone cut the hair off of a prostitute after killing them.”
“That’s… not good,” you say bluntly, unsure what else to say.
“He walked away before I could get his name,” Reid says. “I’m going to go meet with the detective.”
“We’ll come with you,” Gideon says, nodding at you. You follow Reid to the elevator and down to the SUV. Gideon drives.
* * * * *
When you get to the ME’s office, Detective Barnes is already there, standing next to the covered body of who you assume is the dead prostitute. After introductions are made, he moves to uncover the victim’s head. “We found her four days ago in an alley off of K Street,” the detective says. “Still no ID.”
Hotch walks in. “Hey, just got your message.”
“Aaron Hotchner, Vic Barnes,” Gideon introduces them.
“Hi,” Hotch says, nodding to the detective. “What have we got?”
“This is the second victim,” Reid tells him. “The first one was killed three months ago.”
“Both in the early morning,” you add.
“Both had their hair chopped?” Hotch asks.
Detective Barnes nods. “Uniform didn’t make the connection because he was fixated on this.” He pulls the sheet farther down to expose the victim’s belly, where ‘HELP’ has been carved into her skin.
“The first victim didn’t have anything carved on her, I assume?” you ask.
“Just a routine Jane Doe,” the detective says, shaking his head.
“Take a look,” Gideon says, pointing to the cuts. “A lot are shallow. They’re hesitation marks. He’s not certain he wants to be killing.”
“Makes you think the message he carved is sincere,” Reid adds. “He’s asking the police to help him stop.”
“Fits with your kid, seeking you out,” Gideon says. “Part of him wants to get caught.”
Reid shakes his head. “I let him go, I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault, Reid,” you tell him. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. We’ll find him.”
“If both murders took place in the morning, how come there were no witnesses?” Hotch asks.
Detective Barnes sighs. “The motels and alleys around the Capitol are notorious. People go out of their way not to look.”
You finish up the conversation before heading back to the BAU. When you get there, Hotch tells you, Morgan, and Prentiss to go canvas the streets where the bodies were found and see if anyone recognizes Reid’s sketch.
* * * * *
“So the kid just happened to have a conversation with a serial killer on his way to work?” Morgan asks as he drives. You’re in the back behind Prentiss in the passenger seat.
“Seems like it,” you confirm.
“That’s weird, even for us,” Prentiss says. You hum in agreement.
“Weird just seems to find us,” Morgan notes, pulling up to the curb. The three of you exit the vehicle and begin to look around. You split up, Morgan going in one direction and you and Prentiss in the other, looking for someone who might know something. Not everyone is eager to talk to you, afraid you’re here to arrest them, but you finally find a girl to talk to. She looks barely eighteen. You introduce yourselves and begin to ask her questions.
“Business is pretty heavy here in the mornings?” Prentiss asks.
The girl bites her bottom lip, looking skeptical. “How do I know you’re not just lookin’ to crack down on us?” she asks.
“Because we’re telling you. We’re here trying to protect you,” you tell her. Morgan walks up behind you, inspecting the dumpster, as another woman, presumably a friend of the girl you’re talking to, goes to her side.
The girl sighs. “A lot of johns from the hill stop by on their way to work,” she explains.
Her friend jumps in. “We always say the same politicians yellin’ about cleanin’ up the hill are the ones droppin’ fifty bucks with us before they make the speech.”
“It’s true,” the first girl says. “And the more important they think they are, the quicker they accidentally finish up with us. It’s weird like that.”
“No, that’s pretty much universal,” Prentiss says. You snort.
Morgan fights a smile, holding up Reid’s sketch. “You recognize him at all?”
“I don’t know his name or nothin,’” the girl says.
Her friend shrugs. “He hangs around, tries to pretend like he’s not watching us. He’s just a horny kid, you know.”
“You didn’t see him talking to any of the other girls out here?” you ask.
The woman shrugs again. “I just figured he’s the kind, gets his little bit of danger, and goes home and takes business into his own hands.”
“Is he the one who did this?” the first girl asks.
“We don’t know,” you tell her.
“But someone did,” Prentiss adds. “So you need to be careful.”
The woman nods. “We stick to the daylight and only work the high-end blocks.”
Prentiss eyes the first girl. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one,” she says immediately. Prentiss glances at Morgan then back at the girl, shaking her head. “Fine, nineteen,” the girl admits.
“Just watch out for each other, okay?” Prentiss says.
They nod and begin to walk away.
“Well, if he is the killer, they obviously don’t see him as a threat,” Prentiss notes to you and Morgan as you walk back to the SUV.
“Looks can be deceiving,” you say, opening the back door and getting in.
“Don’t we know it,” Morgan says, sliding into the driver’s seat. He begins to drive back to the BAU as you continue to discuss the case.
* * * * *
When you get to the office, Hotch is in his office with a woman, so you all go to your desks to wait for him to be done. When the woman walks out, she notices Prentiss and makes a beeline for her, giving her a hug. They exchange pleasantries as you notice Hotch watching from the behind the window of his office, a solemn look on his face. Swallowing, you decide to go let Morgan and Prentiss fill Hotch in, and you head to Garcia’s office to see what she’s doing.
“This is impossible,” you hear Reid say before you enter the room.
“What’s impossible?” you ask.
“Finding this kid with how little we have,” Reid explains.
“It’s not impossible,” Garcia insists.
“There’s nothing in the juvenile offender records,” Reid argues.
Garcia shrugs. “So you think like a high school kid.”
“I was twelve, and I hadn’t been through puberty when I was in high school,” Reid tells her.
“Don’t look at me,” you say. “I was a loner who ate lunch in the computer lab.”
Garcia sighs. “Okay, reset. I think like a high school student. You guys think like profilers.” You both nod. “He said he was a junior, right?” Reid nods. “Okay, so the first rule of the teen years— when talking to an authority figure, always lie and say you’re older. He’s probably a sophomore.”
“Okay,” Reid says. “His coat was lamb’s wool, but it didn’t look vintage. It… fit like it had been tailored to him. That means money.”
“In DC, money means private school,” you add.
“Even a lie has to be within the depth of your own experience, right?” Reid asks.
“Fair enough, fair enough,” Garcia says, nodding.
“Uh….” Reid thinks for a second. “Pull up the district that serves Northwest High.” Garcia begins typing. “Are there any private schools within those boundaries?”
“Uh, three,” Garcia says.
“Do any of them offer elective courses at Georgetown?” Reid asks.
Garcia’s computer beeps. “One. The Morton School.”
“Pull up the junior class,” Reid says.
“Sophomore class,” you correct. Garcia smiles and begins scrolling through the pictures of students as Reid looks over her shoulder.
“Wait wait, stop. There,” Reid says, pointing.
Garcia blows up the picture. “Nathan Harris.”
“We got him,” Reid says, sounding surprised.
“I’ll go tell Hotch,” you say. “And Garcia? You’re awesome.”
“You know it,” she says, smiling at you as you exit the room, heading for Hotch’s office.
You knock on the open door before stepping inside. “Hotch? We have a name.”
He stands up from his desk chair. “Great. I’ll have Gideon and Morgan go with Reid to talk to him. You stay here with Prentiss and JJ.”
You nod. “Got it.” You walk back to your desk and sit down, sighing. You turn on the computer at your desk and begin researching more crime statistics while you wait.
* * * * *
When Gideon, Morgan, and Reid get back, Nathan Harris and his mother walking behind them, they bring Nathan right to the interrogation room while JJ takes his mother to a conference room. You head to the observation room to watch the interrogation.
“Nathan, if you didn’t do it, how’d you know the details of the murder?” Morgan asks.
“‘Cause I saw the body,” Nathan answers. “It was early. It was before school. She-she was dressed in red. She’d been stabbed a lot, and her hair was all chopped off.”
“Where was that?” Morgan asks, leaning on the table as Reid sits in the chair across from Nathan.
“In an alley off of K Street,” Nathan tells him. “They take men down there for sex, I see ‘em do it all the time.”
“What were you doing down there?” This time, it’s Reid who asks the question.
Nathan shakes his head. “I don’t know, I just sort of… end up there sometimes, you know? I-I-I stay out all night, and I just come back in the morning, and if my mom’s at work, I don’t even bother coming home.”
Reid sighs. “Why didn’t you call the police?”
“I don’t know,” Nathan says, shrugging.
Morgan takes a breath. “Nathan, the prostitutes I talked to say you watch them.”
“I’ve never touched them,” Nathan insists.
“You fantasize about having sex with them?” Morgan asks.
Nathan sighs. “No, I told you, I think about killing them.” Morgan and Reid share a look. “Look, after the lecture, I saw you at the metro stop a few times, and I thought maybe you could help me.”
“How?” Reid asks.
“I don’t know,” Nathan answers. “I saw that body and I felt excited and that really scared me.”
“Is it possible that you actually killed those prostitutes, but you just don’t want to admit it to yourself?”
“No,” Nathan says with finality.
“Then why’d you run away from me?” Reid asks.
“‘Cause… I don’t know, I thought you’d say I was crazy and there was no way to stop it.”
Morgan and Reid look at each other again before standing and exiting the room. You walk over to them.
“Wow,” you say.
“Yeah,” Morgan says, sighing.
“What are you gonna tell the mother?” you ask.
“I want to hold him overnight,” Morgan says. “Just in case.” He walks up to where Gideon and Nathan’s mother are sitting. They stand as Morgan approaches. “Ma’am,” Morgan starts, “we’d like to let the juvenile authorities hold him overnight so we can do a psychological evaluation.”
Nathan’s mother looks at him in shock, shaking her head. “I can’t believe this is real.”
“Well, right now it’s just an evaluation,” Gideon tells her. “I’d encourage Nathan to have a lawyer present.”
“I don’t know what he’s going through, but the Nathan I know is a sweet boy,” Nathan’s mother insists.
Reid nods. “I believe you.”
“Do we have your permission?” Gideon asks. Nathan’s mother sighs and nods.
“I’ll show you where to sign the paperwork,” Reid says, walking away with the mother just as Prentiss comes over.
“The juvenile authorities are waiting for Nathan Harris,” she tells Gideon.
“He’s in interrogation,” Gideon says.
Prentiss nods. “Is he our unsub?”
Morgan shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t think so,” you chime in. “I think he’s just scared of his mind.”
“He says he didn’t do it,” Morgan adds. “He actually seems sincere. But he’s a smart kid. And part of the sexual-sadist profile is the ability to mimic honesty and sincerity.” Morgan shrugs and walks away.
“Well, I’m going to go bring Nathan to the juvenile authorities,” Prentiss tells you.
“I’ll come with you,” you say, walking next to her. “Not like there’s anything else for me to do.”
She opens the door to the interrogation room and steps inside. “The police are here for you,” she tells Nathan, who nods and stands. The two of you escort him down the hall.
“Dr. Reid?” Nathan says as you approach Reid and the authorities.
“Yeah?” Reid says. Prentiss nods at you and walks away. You move to stand next to where Garcia is sitting on the corner of Reid’s desk.
“I know I, um, don’t deserve any favors,” Nathan says, “but whatever my psych eval says, you promise you’ll tell me the truth?” Reid nods. “Uh, my mom says a promise doesn’t count unless you say it out loud.”
Reid chuckles. “I promise.”
Nathan nods. “Okay, thank you.” The juvenile authorities escort him out of the room.
“You know,” Garcia says, “he might’ve killed two women. It’s not your job to hold his hand through this.”
Reid sighs. “It’s like with my mom. I used to think that is I could just understand absolutely everything there is to know about schizophrenia, then I’d somehow be able to fix it.” Your heart hurts for him.
Garcia smiles sadly. “You can’t.” She opens her mouth to say something else, but is interrupted by Hotch.
“Hey guys, I need everybody in the conference room. If Nathan Harris isn’t our unsub, we need a working profile.” You nod and follow him to the conference room, sparing a sad glance back at Reid. When you get there, JJ is standing in front of the TV screen, which is displaying pictures of the victims.
“DC Police sent us these photos of the first victim,” she says as you take a seat next to Prentiss.
“This was the unsub’s first kill,” Hotch says as JJ flips through the photos on the screen. “He held his urges in check for three months, and when he couldn’t control them anymore, he sent this message to the police.” JJ clicks to the picture of the second victim’s carved belly. “We know the ‘HELP’ and the hesitation marks mean he was ambivalent about the kill. What we don’t know is why he chopped the hair.”
“It’s weird that he didn’t take it with him, right?” you say. “Means it’s not a trophy.”
“It’s probably a way to minimize some of their power, robs them of their femininity,” Gideon says.
“That fits with him killing during the early morning,” Reid notes. “It’s the time when prostitutes have the least power sexually as opposed to the night, when he might see them as being on the prowl.”
“Hey, I know we’re just spitballing this here, but this profile points to Nathan Harris,” Prentiss says.
“I don’t wanna talk about Nathan Harris,” Hotch says.
“She’s right, though,” you say.
Morgan nods. “He reached out for help. This is an adolescent kid. He’s probably intimidated sexually. I don’t care how many times he says he didn’t do it, he knew about the last victim, and he admitted to getting off on seeing her dead.”
“We’ve got Nathan Harris. It doesn’t do us any good to talk about him now,” Hotch insists. “I just wanna make sure that if it’s not him, we stay on top of this thing before it takes on a life of it’s own.”
“All right, all right, all right, all right,” Gideon says. “We know our unsub is a sexual sadist.
“The symbolism of stabbing them probably means that he’s impotent,” Prentiss adds.
“The only way he can get off is by killing,” Morgan says.
“Considering that cutting their hair and killing during the early morning, both stem from feeling powerless, there’s a chance his pathology’s more than sexual,” Reid says.
“What do you mean?” you ask, frowning.
“This is DC. Power’s the most important commodity,” Reid notes. “Maybe this guy feels impotent in his professional life, as well.”
“But why these particular women?” Morgan asks.
“Simplest answer is that he has access,” Reid answers.
“Well, Northwest DC has three major hubs of prostitution— near Florida Avenue, off Logan Circle, and McPherson Square,” JJ tells you, drawing up a map of the area with her remote. “Where the victims were found.”
“Probably works in or around Capitol Hill,” Gideon concludes.
“Well, I’ll go back out on the street in the morning and see if any of these women know someone who fits that description,” Prentiss says.
“I’ll come with,” you say. She nods.
“Good,” Hotch says. “It’s late. Let’s go home.”
JJ frowns. “Um, shouldn’t we get word out to the papers?”
“Not yet,” Hotch says.
“Well, it’s not too late to make the morning edition,” JJ reminds him.
“I said no,” Hotch says firmly, turning and walking away. JJ shares a look with you as you follow him, going to your desk to grab your things before heading home.
* * * * *
In the morning, you and Prentiss meet up at the BAU before driving together to the area you spoke with the women yesterday. When you get there, a new alley is taped off with yellow crime scene tape.
“Looks like Nathan Harris isn’t our unsub,” you say as you exit the SUV. You and Prentiss cross the crime scene tape and find yourselves faced with the body of the girl you talked to yesterday. A new word is carved into her stomach.
“‘Failure,’” Prentiss reads. “You think he’s talking to the police?”
You shrug. “It would fit with his last message. A failure to help him stop killing.”
Prentiss reaches down and takes out the victim’s wallet. She sighs, shaking her head. “She was only sixteen.”
Morgan, Reid, and Hotch walk up behind you. “He’s getting angrier and blaming the police for not stopping his impulses,” Hotch says as Morgan crouches down next to Prentiss.
“Certainly not cooling off between kills anymore,” Reid notes.
“Which means we’re looking at a whole lot of bodies,” Morgan says solemnly.
“Meanwhile, in two days, Congresswoman Steyer’s gonna stand up at the Capitol and declare Washington crime-free,” Hotch says.
“That seems a little premature,” you say.
“Hey, what did she want with you the other day, anyway?” Prentiss asks Hotch. You try to make eye contact with her to get her to drop the question but fail.
“It was a private conversation,” Hotch says, his voice short.
Prentiss nods. “Right, of course. I’m sorry.”
“Well, this just confirms Nathan Harris isn’t our unsub,” Morgan says.
Prentiss nods. “Y/L/N said the same thing. Should we call Gideon and tell him not to bother with the eval?”
“No,” Reid says. “He wants to understand what’s happening to him. He deserves to know.”
“Probably a good thing to go through with it, anyway— see if we have anything to worry about in the future,” you add.
Hotch nods. “Let’s head back to the office. There’s nothing left for us here.”
* * * * *
Back at the BAU, you sit down at your desk as Hotch turns to Prentiss. “Can I see you in my office for a second, please?” She nods and follows him up the stairs as you grimace, figuring he’s still upset about her asking about his meeting with the Congresswoman.
You fidget in your seat as you wait for her to exit Hotch’s office, fighting the urge to look in that direction. When she does come and sit down at her desk across from you, she’s frowning.
“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think it was about you,” you tell her quietly. “He’s been weird ever since the Congresswoman talked to him in his office the other day.”
Prentiss sighs, leaning back in her chair and stretching. “I don’t think he trusts me.”
“He will,” you assure her, frowning. “And I know that for a fact.”
She chuckles. “Oh, you do, do you?”
You shoot her a grin. “From another universe, remember? I know things,” you say with a wink, gesturing to yourself.
“Don’t remind me,” she tells you, smiling. “You’ll give me an existential crisis every time I remember I’m just a character in some TV show.”
Laughing, you shake your head. “The way I look at it is that the creator of that TV show was just able to somehow see into this universe and just thought it was an original idea. Does that make it better?”
She nods contemplatively, chewing her bottom lip. “That does make sense,” she says slowly. “At least, as much as any of this whole situation makes sense.”
* * * * *
The rest of the day drags on, and right when you’re about to leave for the night, Reid gets a call from Nathan Harris’ mother, telling him that Nathan isn’t in his room. You volunteer to go with Reid and Morgan to look for him.
“He’s gotta be out here, right?” Reid says from the passenger seat as Morgan slowly drives down the streets where Nathan had said he watches the prostitutes, looking for the boy. “Where else would he be?”
“No, I agree,” you tell him, peering out the window of the SUV to see if you can spot him.
“I still can’t believe his mother’s not out here searching for him,” Morgan says.
“I told her it’d be better if she waited for him at home,” Reid says.
Morgan glances over at Reid. “Reid, you know this is not your responsibility.”
“It is,” Reid argues. “I-I can’t explain.”
“Well, maybe just try,” you say.
Reid sighs. “He knows I understand him.”
“Of course you do, you’re a profiler,” Morgan says.
“No, it’s more than that,” Reid tells you.
“How so?” you ask.
Reid is silent for a moment before answering. “I know what it’s like to be afraid of your own mind.” No one says anything for a minute before he decides to change the subject. “What’s up with Hotch today?”
Morgan chuckles. “I don’t know. Maybe he tied that knot in his tie a little too tight again.”
You and Reid laugh. “Funny,” you tell Morgan, still smiling. “But seriously, I was just talking to Prentiss about how he’s been off ever since his meeting with that Congresswoman yesterday.”
“Isn’t she the one who introduced that anti-crime bill a few months ago?” Reid points out.
“You know what, I think you’re right,” Morgan says.
“If so, it makes sense,” you say. “She probably heard that we have a potential serial killer in DC and wants it kept quiet so it doesn’t look like her initiative isn’t working.”
“I—” Morgan starts to say something but is interrupted by his phone ringing. He flips it open and puts it to his ear. “Yeah.” There’s a pause. “Okay. We’re on our way.” He closes his cell phone and sighs, glancing at Reid. “They just found a body.”
“At night?” You frown. “Either the unsub is devolving, or….” You don’t finish, but you’re sure they both know what you mean: or it was Nathan Harris.
You’re at the scene in less that two minutes since you were already in the area. You follow Morgan and Reid up the steps to find the victim lying in a pool of her own blood, a dark red spot on her abdomen greatly contrasting with the white fabric of her dress. Gideon is already there, looking down at the body.
“I’d say he’s getting bolder,” Morgan notes.
Gideon glances at him, frowning. “If it’s the same unsub.”
“Think it could’ve been Nathan?” Reid asks.
“This kill was fast and messy,” Gideon says.
You motion towards the victim’s head. “Her hair wasn’t cut.”
“No message carved,” Morgan adds.
“Not to mention killing at night.” Gideon shakes his head. “None of it’s our unsub’s signature.”
An officer comes up the stairs behind us. “Excuse me, Agent? They found the boy you’re looking for.”
You, Morgan, and Reid move to follow the officer. He leads you down the stairs and across the street to a church. “Says he’s been here four hours,” he reports as you all step inside. You spot Nathan sitting in a pew. He doesn’t turn around.
Reid moves to sit next to him. “You had a lot of people worried.”
“Sorry,” Nathan says, slowly looking over at Reid.
“Told that policeman that you’ve been here four hours?” Reid asks carefully.
Nathan sighs, looking down at his lap. “I snuck out, and I started walking, like I couldn’t control it, so… I figured I’d come here and try and fight it.”
“Has anybody seen you here?” Reid asks.
“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” Nathan says, shaking his head.
“But it does matter, Nathan. A woman was stabbed tonight, and nobody saw you.” Reid pauses. “I’m gonna have to bring you in as a suspect.”
Nathan doesn’t react, seeming resigned to the outcome. “You gonna cuff me?” he says finally, looking at Reid. Reid turns his attention to Morgan, who slowly takes out his handcuffs and hands them to Reid.
Reid takes the cuffs, standing. “Let’s go,” he says to Nathan quietly.
Nathan stands and holds out his hands. “Do you wanna know what I’ve been doing all night?” Reid hums in response, placing the handcuffs over Nathan’s wrists. “Just been sitting here, thinking… the only way for me to save people’s lives in the future… is to kill myself.”
Reid doesn’t answer, instead leading Nathan out the door and into the back of the SUV.
* * * * *
After you, Morgan, and Reid drop Nathan Harris off at the police station, you head back to the BAU. Reid goes straight to the coffee machine and makes himself a coffee. You and Gideon wait for him before making to walk back to your desks.
“So, Nathan’s in custody?” JJ comes up from behind you and walks beside Reid.
“They’re holding him downtown,” Reid tells her.
“You really think he killed that last woman?” she asks.
“It’s possible….”
“But…?” JJ prompts.
Reid sighs. “Nathan’s evolving. This last kill, it feels like a devolution.”
“It was sloppy and angry,” Gideon adds as he starts up the stairs to the conference room. “Nathan’s smart and directed. He’s used to achieving. If he decides to kill, it’ll be clinical and efficient.”
“So where does that leave us?” JJ says.
Gideon sighs. “Back to the profile.”
You all take your seats around the table in the conference room, the rest of the team already there. Hotch clicks the remote, pulling up a picture of the first victim. “First victim, he gets a taste for killing,” Hotch says before changing the photo to show the second victim. “Second, he asks the police to help stop him. By the third, he feels like they’re failed him. He’s already devolving. The fourth, no ritual, no message. Just a brutal murder.”
“It’s true that he’s devolving, but this last victim definitely had a message,” Gideon counters. “You don’t dump a body across from the Capitol building by accident.”
“Especially not when a Congresswoman is about to proclaim success against the crime epidemic,” Prentiss adds.
“Exactly,” Gideon says.
“Guys, that press conference wasn’t announced yet,” JJ points out. “Only someone with inside information would know that.”
“We profiled that the unsub felt impotent in his job,” Reid says. “What’s more powerless than being a bit player on the Washington stage?”
“You know, if he felt like he did his part to clear the prostitutes off the street, but was never heard, he might have felt so personally betrayed that he literally had to carve his frustrations out on those women,” Morgan says.
“So you’re saying the profile was right,” you say.
Reid jumps in. “Exactly, we were just wrong about who the message was for.”
“We need to get a list of anyone who advocated on behalf of that bill,” Gideon says.
“Prentiss, Y/L/N, when you two went back to talk to the prostitutes, did the profile ring a bell with any of them?” Hotch asks.
“A couple described what sounded like it could be the same man,” you say.
“We tried showing them mugshots but we came up empty,” Prentiss adds.
Hotch contemplates the information before nodding. “Let’s go back to them. We’re gonna need their help.”
“What are you thinking about, Hotch?” Morgan asks.
“I need to get a message to Congresswoman Steyer,” he says.
“Well, a press conference announcing that DC has a serial killer would be the easiest way to do that,” you say. “She’d be pissed.”
Hotch nods, looking to JJ. “How quickly can we put a together a press conference?”
JJ smiles. “How fast do you need it?”
“Tomorrow morning is fine,” Hotch tells her. “The rest of you can head home for the night. We’ll continue this tomorrow after the press conference.”
* * * * *
The next morning, you find yourself with Reid in Garcia’s office, trying to narrow down the list of suspects.
“Garcia, can you search people who are involved with research or advocacy groups dealing with crime control or prevention?” Reid asks.
Garcia types away at her keyboard. “I’m gonna need a little more than that.”
“The lower the group is on the Washington food chain, the better,” Reid adds.
You nod. “This guy feels like he’s not being heard, and he’s targeting prostitutes, so definitely check the groups with a theme centered around morality or values.”
Garcia sighs, shaking her head. “Okay, reality check. What you’re looking for— needle. This? Haystack.”
“Garcia, we don’t have to find it,” Reid says.
You frown. “We don’t?”
He shakes his head. “We just have to get to the people who can.”
Garcia continues typing. “Okay, I’ll let you know once I have something.”
“Thanks, PG,” you tell her, patting her on the shoulder as you walk out of her office and go to your desk. You notice Hotch’s press conference playing on a TV in the corner of the room.
“May I have your attention please,” Hotch says on the TV as he steps up to the podium, JJ at his side. “A day from now, there will be an announcement across the street on the steps of the Capitol that crime is down significantly in Washington. This is a fact. It is also a fact, however, that there’s a serial killer who’s been targeting the prostitutes who work in this area. In fact, the last victim was found not a hundred yards from where we’re standing. We’re here today to let you know that the police and the FBI are working tirelessly on this case.”
“We’d like to stress to the woman who work on these streets to please take caution,” JJ says. “All right, first I’m going to give a brief description of the man we’re looking for, and then we’ll take some questions. We believe the man responsible for these crimes works on or around Capitol Hill, possibly at a research or advocacy group dealing with issues of crime control or prevention.”
Your attention is drawn away from the TV when you notice Prentiss walking into the room, followed by the women you interviewed who recognized the profile. You stand and make your way over to her, saying hello to the women as they’re lead to the conference room. Reid is already there, standing off to the side. You all sit down around the table, and you and Prentiss make small talk to ease their nerves.
After a few minutes, Hotch leads Congresswoman Steyer into the room. “That was fast,” you mutter to Prentiss, who stands to greet her.
The Congresswoman ignores Prentiss and turns to Hotch. “Just what point are you trying to make?”
“These women described similar experiences with the same man,” Hotch says. “We showed them police mug photos and they didn’t recognize him. We thought maybe you might know who he is.”
Congresswoman Steyer rolls her eyes. “Did you think you could shock me by treating me to this sideshow?”
You clear your throat as the woman across from you glares at the Congresswoman. “Sideshow?” she scoffs.
The woman to her right shakes her head. “Lady, enough of the men you work with treat themselves to us every day.”
The Congresswoman, to her credit, has the grace to look apologetic for her outburst. “My apologies, ladies.”
“Could you please tell the Congresswoman who it is we’re looking for?” Prentiss asks politely.
“He’s tall and bald, and he’s got sad eyes,” the first woman says.
“He was always wearing a turtleneck with this long, dark coat,” the woman all the way to the right says. “Looked like a mortician.”
The second woman nods. “That’s right. Hung around just watching for months before he finally got his nerve on. But then he just wanted to watch.”
“Freak paid me and Racine 200 bucks to turn each other’s knobs,” the third woman adds. “But then he started screaming at us that we were just low women.
“Same thing with me,” the first woman reports, “and his voice got real high and nasal when he got excited.”
“Does that sound like anyone that you know?” Hotch asks the Congresswoman.
She looks at Hotch. “No.”
Reid steps forward. “I’m gonna read you a list of groups that lobbied on behalf of your legislation. Keeping in mind the description you just heard, tell me if anyone associated with these groups could be the man we’re looking for. Uh, The Crime Policy Institute, The Center for Safety, Citizens’ Brigade, Decency Watch, um—”
“Oh my God,” Congresswoman Steyer says, interrupting Reid.
“So, Decency Watch?” you ask.
“The man who runs it,” the Congresswoman says.
“Ronald Weems,” Reid says.
“Do you know him?” Hotch asks.
“No,” the Congresswoman says, then shakes her head. “I-I mean, yes, but he’s a nobody.”
Prentiss takes a step forward. “But he fits this description?”
“Perfectly,” Congresswoman Steyer says with a nod.
You and Prentiss share a look as Hotch turns to the prostitutes. “Thank you for your help,” he tells them.
“We can go now?” the middle one asks.
Hotch nods. “That’s all we needed.” The three woman stand and begin to file out of the room as Prentiss leads them out.
You turn to the Congresswoman. “Congresswoman Steyer, I can walk you out.”
She nods. “Thank you.” You nod in response, escorting her to the elevator before returning to Hotch.
“So, what’s our next move, boss?” you ask.
“I’m going to take Morgan and Gideon to Weems’ residence, see if he’s there. You stay here in case he’s not and we need to look for him.”
You nod. “Got it.” You head back to your desk and sit down to wait.
* * * * *
Less than an hour later, your phone rings. The caller ID tells you it’s Hotch.
“Was he there?” you ask.
“No,” he says. “I need you, Prentiss, and Reid to head to the area the bodies were found and start looking. We’ll meet you there.”
“Will do.” You close the phone and slip it into your back pocket, rising from your chair. “Reid, Prentiss, we’re up,” you tell them, both looking up at you from their own desks.
About forty-five minutes later, you’re out in the night, holding a picture of Ronald Weems up to everyone you meet.
“Have you seen this man?” You ask a homeless woman. She shakes her head so you move on to the next person and ask the same question. You make your way down the street as Prentiss makes her way up it, doing the same thing. When you meet up, you look to her hopefully, but she shakes her head.
“Damn,” you say. “Me either.” You both turn to head down an alley to your right, where Morgan is asking another prostitute.
“Nothing?” he asks you.
“No, you?” Prentiss asks. He sighs and shakes his head.
“Well, he’s gotta be out here somewhere,” you say as the three of you make to exit the alleyway. Suddenly, you hear a whistle blowing. You spare a glance at Prentiss as you all break into a run.
As you run up to where Hotch has his gun pointed at Ronald Weems, one of the women you talked to on the first day of the case runs up to Weems, pulling out a can of mace and spraying it into his face. Weems yells in pain as Morgan pulls the woman away.
“He killed my friend!” she yells, struggling against Morgan.
“I know he did, stop it!” Morgan says as Hotch cuffs Weems, who’s kneeling on the ground.
“She maced me!” Weems exclaims.
“Yeah, she did,” Prentiss says, her hand on her gun. You snort.
“They said they’d clean ‘em off the streets,” Weems says as Hotch leads him to the police car that just pulled up to the curb, siren blaring and lights flashing. “They lied! What was I supposed to do?! I had to do something!”
Hotch forces Weems into the backseat of the cruiser, shutting the door and cutting off Weems’ tirade. With the unsub in custody and nothing left to do, you and Prentiss start walking down the sidewalk in the direction of your SUV.
* * * * *
Back at the office, you sit down at your desk to finish up some paperwork before you leave for the night. You’re almost ready to go when Garcia walks up to Reid at his desk, followed by Nathan Harris.
“Hey,” she says, gesturing over her shoulder at the boy.
Reid stands as she walks away. “Hey,” he says to Nathan.
“Hi,” Nathan says, holding his arm nervously.
“I heard the juvenile authorities let you go today,” Reid says. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
Nathan shakes his head. “Mm, it’s all right.”
Reid looks around the room. “Where’s your mom?”
“Oh, she had to go back to work. I told her I was coming to see you.” Nathan sighs. “So, were you there when they caught him?”
Reid nods. “Yeah, I was.”
“Did he say how long he knew what he was?” Nathan asks.
“No,” Reid says, shaking his head.
“Do you think it’s possible for me to maybe talk to him or….”
“I’m sorry.” Reid shakes his head again. “You’re not him. Who we are is— it’s constantly evolving.” He chuckles. “I’m a lot older than you, and I-I’m changing all the time. You know, this-this job changes me. You’ve changed me. You sought me out to try to understand how not to harm people. That’s a far more important part of who you are than the one that scares you.”
Nathan looks down. “My mom wants to… have me go to a hospital for a little bit.”
“Maybe that’s not such a bad idea,” Reid suggests.
“You know, once they lock me up, they’re never gonna let me out of there,” Nathan says sadly.
Reid chuckles. “You don’t know that.”
Nathan shrugs. “Whatever. I just came to say goodbye.”
“When you going in?” Reid asks.
Nathan swallows. “Supposed to be tomorrow. So last night of freedom.” He pauses. “I don’t know, I— thank you for caring.”
Reid shakes Nathan’s hand and Nathan turns to walk away. You stand and pat Reid on the shoulder. “You did good with him,” you tell him.
“You think so?” he says with a frown, watching Nathan walk away.
You nod. “I do. And I think you may have saved some lives in the process.”
Reid gives you a small smile. “Thanks.”
“Anytime,” you say. You fight back a yawn. “All right, I think I’m gonna head out. See you tomorrow.”
“‘Night,” Reid says with a smile as you walk back to your desk and shut off your computer, grabbing your backpack and walking down the hallway to Garcia’s office to say a quick goodbye.
You’re almost home when your cell phone rings. You groan and answer it. “Please do not tell me we—” You’re interrupted by Garcia’s panicked voice. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down, slow down. What’s wrong?”
“I, uh, I was with Reid, and we were gonna go hit a bar, and he got a phone call, and now we’re with Nathan Harris because he slit his wrists and I—”
You curse, turning your car around. “Okay, okay, Garcia, just breathe. I’m on my way. Where are you?”
She gives you the address in a shaky voice. “There-there was just so much blood and I— oh God, Y/N.”
“It’s gonna be okay. I’m assuming the ambulance is there?”
“Yeah, they, uh, they just got here. I-I’m gonna call Morgan, okay?” she says.
“Okay, I’ll see you soon,” you tell her. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”
Within fifteen minutes, you’re there. You step out of the car and walk over to the ambulance, where Nathan is laid out on a stretcher. You spare a minute to ask the paramedic how Nathan’s doing before you step away to look for Garcia. You spot her off the side and immediately go up to her and wrap her in your arms.
“Oh, Y/N,” she says.
“Are you okay?” you ask, leaning back to examine her. Her hands are stained red with blood, a bloody towel held tightly in her grasp.
“It was horrible,” she says, her voice shaking.
“Garcia!” You turn around to see Morgan jogging over to you. “Baby Girl, are you all right?”
“She’s shaken up, but unharmed,” you tell him as he pulls her into a hug.
“How did she know to call Reid?” Morgan asks her after a minute.
Garcia takes a shaky breath. “Nathan set Reid’s business card on the table before he cut himself, like a suicide note.”
“The paramedics say you and Reid saved his life,” you tell her softly.
Garcia glances over at the ambulance before quickly looking away. She sighs. “He didn’t want us to save him. He kept telling Reid to let him die.”
“He’s sick,” Morgan tells her, rubbing her arm.
“All I keep thinking is what if he eventually kills someone,” she whispers. “What if someone dies because we saved him?”
“It wouldn’t be your fault,” you tell her firmly.
“Profiles can be wrong, you know,” Morgan points out, though he doesn’t look convinced.
“And if it’s not, then we’ll find him and catch him,” you say. “Now come on, let’s get you home.”
You and Morgan walk Garcia to her car. Morgan tries to convince her to let him drive her home, but she refuses, not wanting to leave her car, which you come to learn she’s lovingly named Esther. Morgan settles for following her home to make sure she gets there safe, and you wave goodbye and head back to your car, finally ready to go home and sleep.
NOTE: If you think I missed any trigger warnings, please let me know!
#Emily Prentiss#BAU!reader#reader#BAU#Behavioral Analysis Unit#shamelessly self indulgent#writing#fanfiction#fanfic#crossposted on ao3#Criminal Minds#canon compliant#Emily Prentiss x reader#my writing#Emily Prentiss x you#Emily Prentiss x BAU!reader#Emily Prentiss x Y/N#I'm bad at summaries#Prentiss x reader#Prentiss x you#Prentiss x BAU!reader#Prentiss x Y/N#Emily Prentiss fanfiction#Criminal Minds fanfiction#Stranger In A Not So Strange Land#f!reader
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I'd love to know more about your f/o Ricky!! I love reading your replies to the prompts but I don't know who Ricky is tbh lol this is an invitation to gush about him :3 <3 <3
Ay, I absolutely ain't got no problems talking about Ricky so thank you for the invitation 🥰!
Roller Ricky is a side character from the game Killer Frequency. He's a sweet and fun loving guy who runs a roller rink in the fictional small town of Gallows Creek(hence the nickname). He's very chill, down to Earth, and friendly. He also has an emotional support dog named Max who he absolutely loves (which it's sooo fucking cute how much he loves him oh my God).
Despite being certified sweet boi in my books (calls him "certified sweet boi" even tho he's literally a grown ass man in his late 30s lol), he has no problems with scaring off someone with his rifle if they threaten him or those he loves (this is literally canon, and I love that it's canon).
Annnnnnd what's a certified sweet boi without a traumatic backstory. Without spoiling the game too much, Ricky went through this fucked up prank in high school where he literally thought his friends were fucking murdered and one of them actually fucking dying (I'm not kidding you, shit's fucked up). Turns out it was a stupid hazing ritual that his football team was doing to the new players, and he didn't know that because he can't keep secrets well and would've spoiled it. Yeah that's not a good fucking excuse because he developed really bad survivor's guilt that caused him to become an alcoholic to deal with the trauma (and my poor bby I wanna wrap him up in a blanket now 😭).
Fortunately, he found a support group and got actual therapy for his trauma. Now he encourages others to push through tough times.
Yeah I love this man soooo much it's not even funny lol.
What's sad tho is Killer Frequency is kinda niche(?) I think, so there isn't too much content out there for him, despite being relatively well liked by fans. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who has written any x reader things for him. That's so me tho, I've always fallen in love with characters that are unknown or unpopular, it's my curse. Anyways, my first ever full length fanfic I wrote, Heart Shaped Roller Rink (been thinking about making that our ship name, I think it's cute) was a Roller Ricky x reader fic. I've thought about revamping it too with it being my first fanfic; just kinda clean up the wacky formatting and fix the grammatical errors (I feel like with him being my f/o now, it's what he deserves lol). Then I literally wrote some headcanons for him the day after I posted that fic. Finally, not too long after that, I wrote another fic with him where the reader was pregnant because I feel it in my bones that he'd be such a sweet dad.
Also, like a fool I said that that was going to be the last I would write for him. God, what a funny joke because I have another idea for a fic (now if only I had the time and motivation). I didn't really plan on having him as my f/o, but after realizing I had written three things for him back to back to back, I was like "yeah, this is more than loving a character a normal amount." Soooo yeah, that's how he became my f/o. Don't get me wrong, I've always loved x reader fics and shit(still do btw), but I've never felt this strongly for a character before.
Now, I am happy to be a part of the wonderful world of self shipping with him ❤️
Bonus:
Hehe himb 🥰🥰❤️
#rita responds#wow this made my day thank you!!!#I've been so fucking busy this week and it's not even Friday#also sorry for the huge block of text you probably didn't want to read that much#I'll try to remember to send you an ask too ❤️❤️#ship: heart shaped roller rink
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More Than Our Scars - Part 14
It's a long quiet drive out to Beacon. Logically, you know Billy isn't angry at you, but he looks murderous & you don't know how to fix it. You know all the questions running through your head will only irritate him. You try to be patient and wait him out. You put on some music and let him concentrate on this thoughts & driving.
After about an hour, Bill reaches over & tugs on your hair. You take it as a cue that it's ok to talk to him again. He's come to terms with whatever he was dealing with. You reach over & caress his cheek. He grabs your hand & places a kiss in your palm & continues to hold it for the rest of the drive. Whatever decision he came to, it brought your Billy back to you. "There should be a castle coming up on the left."
You look at him trying to gauge if he was making up stories or not. "Truly?"
He gives a soft laugh, "Truly. It's on a little island in the Hudson. It's supposed to be haunted."
You pull your hand away & hit him in the arm. "Now I know you're lying! A haunted castle in the Hudson River?" You cross your arm over your chest. "Bill Russo."
Bill laughs, "I swear it!"
"Can we visit it?"
"Y/N, it's winter. It won't open up until Summer. We can go then." Ten minutes later, true to his word, there's a castle on an island. More like the ruins of a castle. "See, I told you."
You roll your eyes, "You were right. I was wrong."
Jesus, this looks like every Hallmark Christmas movie town you've ever seen on TV. So tiny & quaint, but scenic & beautiful. You get to the hotel, The Roundhouse & it's much nicer than what you were expecting. You imagined a Bed & Breakfast type of establishment, but it's a hotel right next to a creek, so you'll still have a water view, like at the Loft. Bill valets his car & goes to check-in, while you wander the lobby. This feels like a dream. You're actually out & about after being cooped up for almost 2 months.
Once you're in your room, Bill wraps you in a bear hug that lifts you off your feet. He sets you back down & kisses you. "I need to call Frank. I know we just got here & all..."
You stop him with a kiss. "I understand. You need to make sure your people are safe. I'm just glad you're out of the city and away from Fisk."
"Can you order up some room service for lunch & make dinner reservations for downstairs tonight?"
You smile, "Downstairs?"
"Yea, I can finally take my girl out on a date." You laugh & Billy vows to himself that he'll make things right for you. But first he's got some planning to do with Frank.
Bill has been on the phone with Frank for over an hour. Billy got you guys a 1 bedroom suite, so you let Bill work out of the living area. He comes into the bedroom looking exhausted. You're on the bed lying on your stomach watching a movie on TV. He flops down on the bed, resting his head on the small of your back. "We need to talk." You cringe, but you knew this was coming. You turn off the TV and rest your head on the bed.
"What do you need?"
"Carson Wolf was not on your original list that you gave us."
"I didn't know his name and I didn't know he worked for Homeland Security. He was just another guy. There were other men that i didn't tell you about because I don't know or remember their names either."
Billy's voice is strained & tight, "What can you tell me about Wolf?"
"I met him before the raid. I'm sure of that. Fisk sent me to a party to meet him." You gnaw at your bottom lip trying to recall the details. "I don't know what started or instigated that arrangement. I met him a few more times after that & then it stopped. Fisk didn't send me to him anymore."
"What were your orders from Fisk regarding him? What did he want you to do? What did you do with Wolf?"
You wiggle out from underneath Billy & sit up. He stands legs apart & arms folded across his chest. You stand on the other side of the bed & mimic his pose. "My orders??" He cocks an eyebrow at you. You lift your chin & meet his dark gaze, "My ORDERS were to fuck him. Fuck him so well, he'd want to see me again. And when I saw him again, to fuck him even better. And..."
You didn't get to finish your sentence. Billy launches himself across the bed with a roar, his hand slamming down on your mouth, and his other, cradling the back of you head. Your scream is muffled by his hands. There's such strength and power in him. He could easy snap your neck with his bare hands. You try scratching at his fingers to release you, but to no avail. You try to calm down and breath through your nose. He's not suffocating you. You fist both your hands in Bill's shirt over his heart. You can feel the frantic racing of his heart that matches your own.
Bill rests his forehead on the top of your head & softly whispers, "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up." He releases your mouth but crushes you to his chest with his other hand. You slide your arms around Billy's waist & he adjusts you against his chest, so you both fit each other perfectly.
"I did what I was told, so he wouldn't hurt me. So he wouldn’t kill me."
@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend
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WIP Intro - Eldenstow Creek
{ Story Description }
A drive through the empty roads of the countryside, along the edge of the woods and away from everything they'd once known. Sounds nice right? well not when you're running from something, something far more sinister than what they were about to encounter. The world was not as it seemed, there was another side, a side where strangeness & evil resided. Circuses popping out of seemingly nowhere, pools of mystical water trying to pull them in, unintended consequences after trying to fight this higher power. Everything had seemed normal but then they’d made one mistake, messed with the wrong person, spilled the blood of something they never should've. So yeah. They were in the same car and driving along the edge of the woods. Nothing to it.
{ The Basics }
Genre - Urban Fantasy & Mystery
Themes & Tropes - Mystical, Supernatural, Adventure, Unlikely Friends, Unintended consequences, Derealization, Fear of The Unknown, Dark Imagery, LGBTQ+ Characters, POC characters, Dreamlike Descriptions, Mind-bending, Self-sacrifice, and Horror.
Setting - Fictional locations in Eastern U.S & Fantasy Locations
Status - Plotting & Drafting
Point Of View - Third Person Limited
Content Warning - Contains Dark Topics such as assault, violence & murder.
{ Spoiler-Free Synopsis }
Shae Brooks is just trying to live a ‘normal’ life, at least not one full of fantasy creatures and a girl who seems to be more full of bullshit than anyone else he’d ever met. He makes one mistake, he interacts with the wrong person, but instead of just letting him deal with his own problems like a normal person, a girl named Ruby Gardner comes along and decides the best course of action is violence.
Not wanting to be arrested for a crime he didn’t commit the best course of action is to go with her right? And when things go south from there the only choice is to follow this lunatic girl who seems to be stuck in her head far more than the real world wherever she intends to take them. The further they venture, the weirder things get, pools of mystical water, creatures from the unknown, woods that seem to be unending, bottomless creeks, and a journey they’d truly never forget.
But the question is... why? why any of it? Why does he choose to go along with this girl who is the exact opposite of himself, whom he never in a million years thought could be a friend. What is this girl hiding and why did she do something so unthinkable such as spilling the blood of another?
There’s love and there’s loss, but nothing is as it seems and that stands true for the happy ending as well.
{ Eldenstow Creek Playlist }
Mysterious & Unusual, the perfect accompaniment to this story.
{ Notes & Conclusion }
I was inspired to write this story by two very different stories, one of which is Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman where it starts off seemingly normal and gets more and more strange as time goes on, and the other is The End of The F***ing World mostly in writing style and also the whole- murder thing y’know? So if like those, you might like this one.
Character Intros will hopefully be soon (if I get any interaction that would help motivate me to share) for the two main characters Ruby and Shae who are complete opposites but both have very strong personalities.
This story is early in development, I’ve just written bits and pieces here and there but I did want to put an intro out there so if you are interested in this idea, you can watch as it develops.
{ General Writing Taglist }
@weirdfishy | @wannabeauthorzofija | @annlillyjose | @radiomacbeth | @opes-magnas | ask to be +/-
{ Eldenstow Creek Taglist }
this one’s empty for now but if you’d like to be informed of updates and shared excerpts feel free to send an ask and I’ll add you :)
#writeblr#writing#amwriting#creative writing#original writing#wip: eldenstow creek#wip: roadnoise#renwrites#mystery#urban fantasy#mind-bending#supernatural#adventure#I know I said I wouldn't be posting much but I remembered this was in my drafts and had to
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Hi! I hope you're having a good day/night/whatever :)
What's your favourite thing you've ever written?
hi! i did have a good day and i hope you did too! i’ve actually never really thought about it, i adore a lot of the stuff i write, but this possible beginning to Murders of Crow Creek is something that i consistently take pride in, if you’re interested in reading:
The air smelled of sulfur. The scent was thick, filling Lou’s nostrils and making her eyes water. The sun, orange and unrelenting, glared across the horizon at her. She glared back. A faint ringing filled her ears. Her chest was full of rage, a rage she could not pinpoint the origin of. All she knew was pain and anguish, and standing in the desert heat, glaring at the sun which in turn glared at her, she realized that pain and anguish were all she would ever know.
The smell of sulfur grew stronger. Lou rubbed her nose and took her hat off, keeping her eyes on the sun. She watched, and waited.
A noise squeezed its way through the ringing, wedging itself into her head, banging against her eardrums. The noise was more irritating than harmful, yet Lou could not stand it. She lowered her gaze to the ground.
A crow, scratching the cracked dirt below it and pecking at a small rock. The sound of its talons against the ground should have been minuscule. Lou should have barely heard it under the ringing in her ears; but every time this crow’s feet came down on the earth, Lou flinched. It was as if a drummer was standing right behind her, hitting his drum so ferociously he might break it.
The noise grew louder, and louder, until it was so loud Lou thought she might faint. All she could do was watch the crow with a strange, underlying feeling of dread.
Finally, the crow stopped. It looked up at Lou with a look in its black eyes. It was an expression Lou knew well: an accusatory glare, as if the one receiving it had done something drastically wrong.
What had Lou done wrong?
The crow opened its beak and screeched. Lou cried out, falling back. Her hands hit the dirt, the skin peeling from her palms. All she could hear was the crow’s cry of anger. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the noise to go away.
She just wanted it to go away.
——
Lou stared blankly at the paperwork on her desk. The sunlight, orange and soft, peeked through the window of the station, wrapping her in its warmth.
Lou had been startled awake by her dream that morning. She had been sure the vision had been just that: a vision. Yet her palms had been scratched and bloodied, like she had fallen and caught herself on her hands.
It was early.
Lou waved a hand dismissively at her paperwork and leaned back in her chair, stretching. She was too distracted to do any paperwork.
Lou pulled her pocket watch out. Quarter ‘til seven. She whistled, kicking her feet up and placing them on her desk.
The door to the sheriff’s station opened and Caroline Oakwood, Lou’s deputy, walked in. The heels of her boots clacked against the wooden boards as she crossed the room to her desk and sat down.
“Morning, Sheriff,” she sighed, placing her hat on her desk. Lou grumbled a greeting back to her, closing her eyes. Caroline peered over at Lou, raising an eyebrow. “Slept well, I assume?”
Lou gave her a certified Sheriff Wesley Side-Eye. She grabbed the stack of papers and walked to Caroline, slapping them down in front of her. “Some paperwork for you to do, Deputy.”
“I see,” Caroline scoffed. “Why don’t you rest for a while longer, Sheriff? I’m sure a woman of your age could use it.”
Lou stopped to look back at Caroline, who snorted, prompting Lou to laugh as well. The Sheriff sat down in her chair, kicking up her feet once more. She waved a hand. “Bah, you don’t have much room to talk, Oakwood.”
“That’s true.”
Caroline was only a few years younger than Lou, who was nearly fifty. They weren’t that old, but they both liked to joke with each other about ‘getting up there.’ Lou wasn’t sure what ‘up there’ was supposed to be, but she hadn’t reached it yet. She became a sheriff when she was twenty and she hadn’t stopped since.
Lou was quite fond of Caroline Oakwood. She was responsible and organized, traits that were hard to find in this town. She respected the law, and Lou respected that. Caroline was also the mayor’s sister. The Oakwood family was a loyal, highly respectable family in town; Caroline upheld a lot of expectations without crumbling under the pressure.
“What’d’ya think about these complaints?” Caroline asked, holding up a paper from her pile and straightening it with a flourish. She cleared her throat and began in a haughty voice, “‘I am reporting suspicious activity of my neighbor, whom I believe to be a worshipper of the Dark Gods and is —‘“
“If I hear anything from that old coot again it’ll be too damn soon,” Lou pulled her hat down over her face, groaning.
Caroline glanced up at her and grimaced. “From Pete again? Yeesh. Here, I’ll read more: ‘In my honest opinion, they’re all witches. I swear to Calandria that a group of them was dancing naked under the moonlight with their demon whores, and —‘“
A large black shape barreled through the window behind Caroline with a loud crash, sending the deputy out of her chair and across the room.
“Shit!”
“What in the name of —“
Lou stood, watching the bird fly around the room, her eyes narrowed. She began to take off her coat to trap the animal, but she could see the action would be unnecessary. The bird cried out weakly as it flew into the hat stand, knocking it over. The bird fell to the floor with a thud and twitched once, then lay still.
Lou and Caroline stared at the bird. Caroline chuckled nervously, looking up at Lou. “Well, that was certainly, uh, interesting, wasn’t it?”
Lou didn’t answer. Her eyes were still on the bird. She took a step closer. “Caroline, is that... Is that a crow?”
“I think so, Sheriff,” Caroline breathed. “Why?”
A feeling of dread prickled up Lou’s spine, like a finger slowly dragging itself across the length of a fine-toothed comb. She stared at the dead bird, searching its eyes for another condemning glare.
“Sheriff? Lou,” Caroline was suddenly at the Sheriff’s side, reaching out for her. “What is it?”
Lou shook her head. “Nothing. Stupid damn crows. Get that thing outta here.”
Caroline nodded, grabbing the broom from the corner and pushing the bird towards the door. She was only halfway there, however, when a man burst through the door, screaming for Lou.
“Sheriff! Sheriff Wesley!” It was one of Lou’s employees, a watchman for the town named Jack.
“Jack, kid, calm down!” Lou held her hands up, reaching for Jack. “What is it?”
The boy was out of breath. “You have... to come... hah, behind Tom’s...”
He doubled over, panting. Lou put a hand on his back and leaned down with him. “What? What is it, boy? Spit it out!”
Jack straightened, taking in a deep breath:
“Someone’s been murdered!”
#thanks for the ask! :)#friendlyneighborhoodcapricorn#my writing#writeblr#wip#murders of crow creek#mocc#long post#i didnt really proofread this and i’ve never shared any of my writing on here before so pls be kind#also i’m so sorry if the formatting is weird i copy pasted this from my phone notes. bc that’s where i write OOPS AHDHAH
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Jojo's Bizarre little Adventure part 8 (apologies in advance for this taking so long)
iam back, i anit dead. the story is not abandoned the writer is just slow, I hope ya'll enjoy.
Chapter 8: Bilgerats.
You would think the phrase “an Italian mafia and a japanese highschooler try to stop a small angry humanoid bat riding a cat from destroying their apartment” was the begining of a bad joke but, no, here passione and Okuyasu were, both stand and stand user were trying desperately to catch the frightened and now swearing bloody murder bat lady. She managed to have her cat-mount leep off of Fugo’s head, out the window and back into the rainy night.
Abbacchio let out a frustrated moan and walked back to the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of wine and a glass, however as he turned back to the utter disaster that was once their living room he instead chose to just drink straight from the bottle. Couches and armchairs were turned over, paintings left ascue on the walls, the coffee table was on its side and everyone in the room was both mad and confused at the same time. “It was like she could see our stands!” Trish huffed “do you think it was possible she herself was a stand user?”, “maybe” Fugo groaned as he helped her up. Giorno looked out the window with Narancia and Okuyasu trying to find where the little bat whent but there was no sign of her, like she had disappeared completely.
“I’am sorry guys I didn’t mean for this to happen” Okuyasu said apologetically while helping the others fix up the mess, “It’s alright Okuyasu, you did nothing wrong” Bruno comforted him with a pat on the shoulder, “I still feel bad that she trashed your apartment”, “it’s fine kid, your helping us clean up the mess so don’t worry about it” Abbaccio said grumpily as he handed him a broom.
Okuyasu decided to walk back to the convenience store again and buy one of the cool corn dogs they were selling before they closed, Josuke did join him this time now that the rain had stopped. He told Josuke all about the little bat lady and how he had saved her life and wondered if he’ll ever meet her again?
“Wow these corndogs are great!” Josuke said as he took another bite of a huge deep fried corndog covered in breadcrumbs, cubed potato fries, mustard and ketchup. Okuyasu could only nod in agreement as he too devoured a similarly ginormous corndog covered in melty cheese sauce, “we should bring Koichi next time” he mumbled through bites of food. The duo walked back to the apartments laughing and talking about things they wanted to do before summer was over, “this was really fun Oku, I was wondering if you..” Josuke paused slightly “would you like to see a movie with me this weakened?”, Okuyasu smiled widely “I’d love to man!”
Once at home Okuyasu checked on his father and brother seeing them both fast asleep, he walked into his room and flopped onto his bed, thinking of what he should wear to the movies with Jouske when there was a tapping at his window. Okuyasu looked over and there was the little bat lady, he shot up and walked over to the window and opened it, “uh hey?” he said awkwardly “greetings” she said back.
“Listen I only came back er’ to… thank ye” she grumbled, “oh well your welcome” Okuyasu grinned, she flicked her ears in annoyance “tallfolk like ye selves ain't supposed to know of our kind so don’t go tellen nobody ya hear?” she snarled, Okuyasu nodded “my lips are sealed”. She whistles for her cat and had it drop a bunch of yen coins that it held in it’s mouth, at least 2,000$ (USD) worth “I don’t know how much these coins be worth but think of this as a gift to them other tallfolk who helped ye heal me, wasn't right of me to trash ye’s home now wasn't it?”, Okuyasu was flabbergasted at the amount of money “w-where did you get this?” he gawked, “fished it out one of em fountains ye throw em into” she shrugged. With that she left in a flash back into the night leaving Okuyasu with a shocked smile, he’ll share half of it with Narancia in the morning.
Ikura’s pov:
Far north of the creek that flowed past the small grocery store where she had been found by the tallfolk stood a wall surrounded by large rocks and shrubs, behind one of the large stones lay the entrance to her home, the northern fisherman clan: The Bilgerats. Kelpie her trusted feline steed easily maneuvered his way behind the large stone and into the mouth of the hidden cave passage, they walked for a while, Ikura counting the discolored bricks along the wall till she hit the thirteenth stone and turned through a narrow gap in the wall where she was met with a waterfall, Kelpie sprung upwards and over the waterfall onto a shallow stretch of water.
Ikura followed the path in the moss to a tunnel leading upwards to her hidden village, once the watchmen saw her they blew the signal horn where she welcomed home with open wings. “IKURA!” cried Bluefin “what did you find and where are the others?” asked the elder, she sighed and looked at the oldman with sadness in her heart “Blacktail, Clamhook, Brineheart, Pearl and… Swordfin… I’am sorry Bluefin, they all fought bravely”. Ikura had returned to the battle ground and taken the bodies of her comrades with her before returning home, mournful cries filled the streets as families prepared funeral pyres for the fallen, Bluefin gritted his yellowed teeth and choked back his tears “those slimy bastards will pay” he weeped. Bluefin left the ring of elders to attend his son’s funeral, the others stayed behind to hear what Ikura had found.
“The southern clan is not responsible for kidnapping our fishermen, they attacked us thinking we were to blame”, Ikura said as she stood before the six remaining elders “despite our protests they still pursued us, shooting arrows and spears, I did manage to overhear one of them talk of a large band of slavers in their territory who had come from the western parklands, perhaps they thought we are working with them”.
The elders looked to one another and debated their next action, the southern clan will most certainly start a war if not convinced otherwise. The news of so many slavers crossing into their lands no doubt pillaging and desecrating smaller settlements in their path was horrifying, “we must tell the southern clan we are not to blame, it is these slave tradeing mongrels takeing our people” Sharkskin drawled, “from how the acted in Ikura’s account I’d say any kind of peace negotiations are off the table” Uni protested.
“Send them an oyster” shouted Ika, all the elders hushed and turned to the old matron “we sent warriors into their land, to them that meant we have disregarded our ancient truce so we must show then we mean no harm and are not to blame with an oyster, a symbol of togetherness” she flopped down in Bluefin’s open seat “we will invite them to eat with us and there we will offer peace for no Faheei in the world can resist a good meal”.
The other just stared at her in shock, “do you really think that will work?” Snapperjaw asked with a puzzled look on his bushy bearded face, “... I don’t know but it's worth a shot”.
#jjba#g/t#jojos bizarre little adventure#au#jojo bizarre adventure#warning there are deaths#tiny fishermen
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Robert Aaron Jaeger no longer has the emotional fight to outlast his grief. Less than a month ago, his wife and four-year-old daughter were in a terrible accident on the downtown streets of Seattle. The four-year-old came away with scratches. His wife, Christina, succumbed to her injuries. Under the disguise of rafting through Glenwood Canyon, Robert sets out to kill himself, but his plan is thwarted when he stumbles upon a woman standing in freezing water aiming to do the same thing.
Lilly Radford has been riddled with guilt since the day her baby died and there’s not been a day she hasn’t beat herself up about it. She finally snaps, takes her rent money, and uses it to keep her tank filled until the money runs out. With her car running on fumes, she’s forced to exit off I-70 in Glenwood Springs at the Grizzly Creek Rest Stop where she gives up and falls in the river.
After Robert rescues Lilly and later steps off the plane in Seattle, Zachary Butler lurks close to his heels, determined to kill Robert for getting him fired. Zachary is much more than a typical killer on the loose. His disorder causes him to converse with the good side of himself to collaborate on a scheme for revenge. To complicate his chaotic existence, his wife, Ethel, threatens to derail his plan.
As danger looms and a loved one becomes a victim, Robert and Lilly let down their guard and wrestle with their physical attraction to each other. Determined to right past wrongs, their self-centered past haunts them, but if they aren’t careful, they could miss the beauty lying just below the surface of their pain ... if the killer has his way.
Anger. Madness. Darkness. Murder. Obsession. Ambition. How will it all end?
#mystery novel#fiction#psychological thriller#crime novel#romantic suspense novel#ugly duckling to belle of ball#writers#second chance romance#writers on tumblr#damsel in distress#honorable characters#redemption#sharing accommodation#belated love realized
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Grace Brennan's Rogue Enforcers is a romantic action-adventure series by author KD Michaels who delivers a spicy read you can devour!
"Will they get burnt, by both the fire they emit and the kidnappers?"
ROARKE:
Roarke Cunningham is the head of his small ragtag pack, along with this sister who refuses the Alpha status. A small pack of renegades who ride Harley’s, rescues damsels in distress, kick a little tail and enjoy the screams their women shout in ecstasy when they come calling. On the side, Roarke assists with the Rouge Enforcers to deal with those who do wrong in the shifter world.
Sapphire Butler is the daughter of a MC President, her brother is an enforcer, and a dangerous one at that. Her mother got her out of the lifestyle when she was fifteen after a failed kidnapping attempt resulted in disaster. Now, Sapphire spends her days on a task force aimed at human trafficking to bring the scums of the earth to justice.
Montana has had a surge in kidnappings lately. The kidnapper’s mistake is coming to Wolfe Creek and taking several young girls from a local high school. Their biggest mistake was taking a human girl. Now Roarke must work with Sapphire, who is a human, to find the missing girls before it’s too late.
Roarke and his wolf fight their attraction to Sapphire, thanks to her snark. Sapphire thinks Roarke is an overgrown ape who needs to learn manners. Wil these two be able to put their hotter than hell attraction to each other aside before it’s too late for these girls or will they get burnt, by both the fire they emit and the kidnappers?
LINK:
www.amazon.com/dp/B09GV2PVMH
JADE:
Jade Cunningham grew up in a male dominated world. As the daughter and twin sister of Alphas, it was expected she would follow tradition and marry as befitting her station. Working as a bartender in a dive bar by trade, Jade is so much more. She’s also one of the few female enforcers of her pack.
Cody Delgado always dreamed of becoming a cop. But after many years on the force, he's become jaded with his job and life. Seen as a playboy by his family, friends and even his partner, no one sees the hidden depths beneath the facade he wears. If they only knew the real man that he hides.
With girls going missing in the small town of Wolf Creek, Montana, Cody and Jade are thrown together in a joint investigation to discover who is committing these heinous crimes that has shaken not only those in the police department, but also those in the shifter community as well.
As Cody and Jade fight the forbidden attraction they have always felt, will they be able to work together to solve the murders plaguing their town? Or will their attraction burn out of control, leaving them unable to see the madman right in front of them?
LINK:
www.amazon.com/dp/B0B76WDT6J
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