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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

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A Yandere!Toshinori/OC piece for the very lovely @evaesis, as a follow-up to this oneshot. It’s always so refreshing to work with new quirks and powers, and it’s even more refreshing to use those new quirks and powers to beat up Endeavor. If only because I can, honestly.

Word Count: 3.5k

TW: NSFW, A/B/O Dynamics, Physical Violence, Non-Consensual Touching, Delusional Mindsets, Mentions of Kidnapping and Stolkholm Syndrome.

Kit didn’t care for Enji on the best of days.

It was a matter of contention, really, a difference in morals that proved to the fatal factor in their association. She understood his current rank, his effectiveness as a Hero, but Kit couldn’t help but shudder and bristle any time they were in the same room. Call it animal instinct, but she didn’t want to be near him, much less spend any elongated amount of time alone in his company. Not when she could help it. Not when she had Toshinori.

Needless to say, she wasn’t pleased to find him sitting in the living room when she woke up, pouring over case files with her mate sitting on the other side of a low coffee-table, talking about villains and statistics and all the logistics she never had an affinity for. Not angry, but unpleasantly surprised, a feeling that didn’t improve when Toshinori smiled and asked her to come sit with them, if only for a few minutes. He said she was a Pro, too. That her insight was important, and she should join them.

The ‘or I’ll put your quirk-canceling cuffs back on again’ was only implied. For her pride, she assumed.

And that was why she was now seated on a loveseat much too small, next to a man much too big and much too focused on the file in front of him, one he didn’t seem to notice was deemed inconsequential in their earlier discussion. If he noticed, though, Kit couldn’t tell, watching out of the corner of her eye as Enji tried to seem interested in anything except her. Toshinori had been gone for a minute or two, off to make tea and take a call from another detective who needed his assistance, leaving Kit to wallow in awkward silence to her heart’s content. She didn’t have a problem with it, not if she was being honest. As far as she was concerned, it was better than speaking to him.

Surprisingly, Enji was the one to break the tension. “How long will you be staying with Yagi?”

She grit her teeth. She’d never been kidnapped in the eyed of the public, her sudden disappearance masked as an extended medical leave, eventually becoming an early retirement as she accepted her situation, but the question still irked her. As if Enji had suggested she planned for her bond to be temporary. “We live together,” She said, her agitation poorly veiled. “I don’t plan on leaving, if I can help it.”

A nervous glance towards his file before he discarded it, an anxious rub to the back of his neck. He straightened his back, but there was nothing respectable about the long, silent second he took to scan over her, his eye lingering far longer than they should’ve. “And you’re happy with him?”

“He’s my mate.” It felt more like a declaration than a reason, not that she had a problem with announcing it. He had to right to know. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

“Of course,” He muttered, his voice heavy with grudging acceptance. His continuation is nearly inaudible. “I can smell him all over you.”

Oh. Right. She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them, leaning against the arm of the loveseat. She’d almost forgotten about Enji’s… view of omegas, or at least the omegas he deemed worthy of his leering gaze. His divorce was recent, but his separation had been the topic of gossip for years, not that it made a dent on his oh-so-spotless reputation. There wasn’t much to talk about, not when the details were brushed under the rug as quickly as all of Enji’s other scandals. She’d already gone through extensive measures to keep her name from being added to that growing list. With this in mind, she refrained from indulging him with a response, her concentration soon dedicated to the swirling patterns dyed into the floorboards.

That didn’t stop Enji from going on, though. She wasn’t sure why she thought it would. “He’s getting older, you know. Retirement does strange things to Heroes, makes them…” He trailed off, rolling his wrist in some vague, abstract gesture, hinting at something she didn’t want to know. “Less attentive. They start to get distant, and before long, they’re throwing themselves into the newest public welfare project, or an up-and-coming charity. They try to keep themselves busy, even if they refuse to make a full-blown comeback.” Another pause, this one accompanied by a wayward glance. “Bonds don’t tend to last very long, under those conditions.”

Kit fought to keep her expression neutral, but her quirk betrayed her, tails curling and bristling as her ears flattened against her scalp, blending into a mess a snow-white hair. She wanted him to stop talking. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“You never do.” He moved an inch towards her, then another, stopping just short of her side. Instead, his hand came to occupy the space between them, forming a much-needed barrier. “I’d just be prepared for the eventuality. Yagi’s a… He’s a good man, of course, but it never hurts to have another plan. Just in case things don’t work out.”

Another inch, broad fingers soon resting on her exposed thigh. Exposed skin he shouldn’t have been touching.

“Just in case.”

She wasn’t sure what it was. His tone or the slight, professional frown ghosting over his lips, but something, something about the way he looked at her, spoke to her, touched her… It was bad, it was repulsive. She had a mate. She had a mate she was loyal to. Toshinori took care of her, and even after all she’d done to him, he loved her. Enji wasn’t her mate. Enji didn’t look after her. He had no right to say a word about her relationship, no one did. They didn’t know what Toshinori did for her, they didn’t know how little she deserved that kindness. Enji didn’t know, and neither did anyone else. They didn’t deserve to. They hadn’t earned it.

She almost didn’t know the rage building inside of her, more volatile than any she’d summoned during the heat of battle. That familiar warmth emanating from familiar flames, striking at her humanity until it gave way, melting her composure like wax just begging to be sculpted. It was a painless process. One moment, she was human, and she couldn’t imagine being any other way, and the next she was changing, shifting, turning into the monster she’d only seen on newscasts and blurry pictures in sketchy magazines, the uncontrolled beast she loathed having her name tied to. It didn’t feel wrong, though, not this time, it didn’t feel forced. She guessed it never did, in the moment.

The regret would come later. She’d be able to live with it, later.

Right now, it felt good to bare her teeth, to dig still-sprouting claws into the back of Enji’s hand and tear down, razor-sharp talons separating skin from muscle and making it impossible for him to pull away before she allowed him to do so. Instinct took over in a matter of seconds, consciousness becoming little more than a thick, gauzy haze pushed into the back of Kit’s mind, soon forced into submission by an array of reflexes and urges and desires, raw, primal desires. She felt the loveseat’s cushion tear under her feet as she reared back, now on four legs and more focused than her actions than their repercussions, a set of wide, vulpine jaws soon locked onto the first part of Enji she could see - his forearm. He could’ve avoided her easily, but he was in shock, too stunned to fight back, and her teeth had sunk through his flesh in a matter of seconds. Biting back a pained groan, a ball of flames burst to life in his free hand, the fire soon pressed against her side, forcing her to release him as the smell of burnt fur filled the air.

Abruptly, Enji was on his feet, clutching his injured arm to his chest, but Kit didn’t want him to go anywhere. Why did he get to leave? Why did he get to run away? She never got that choice. She never got to hide when things got hard and loud and violent. She didn’t see why Enji should, either.

She didn’t think. She just lunged at his chest, jaws open and aiming for his neck. In an effort to restrain her, large hands locked around her body, her muzzle, anything he could get a hold on, but the power of her attack still sent him stumbling backward. Suddenly, they were falling, time beginning to slow as Enji’s back hit the large, glass table decorating the center of the room. She’d forgotten about it, in her haste, but the damage was impossible to ignore, now, a stark crack knocking her out of her haze a moment before she could rip the man’s throat out. Her awareness returned quickly, flowing in like the sense of regret quickly overriding her vengeance, but it didn’t matter. Flying shards of glass and wood cut into her skin, some finding a place to root, some not. It didn’t matter. White fur was stained with a deep red in a matter of seconds, injuries made worse as Enji pried her limp body away from his, pitching her into the debris, something long and jagged finding its way into her thigh as she landed.

She didn’t try to get up, her energy sapped as thoroughly as her will to fight. Enji was still standing, though, panting and bleeding and marching towards her, heavy footsteps like gunshots to her ears. She considered standing, continuing on the fight despite her stolen strength, but what was he going to do? Maim her? Kill her?

She couldn’t say she wouldn’t like to see him try.

But, it was a fleeting hope. As Kit’s eyes closed, her vision having gone black around the edges ages ago, she heard a door open, a hitched breath, then yelling. So much yelling.

Enough to make her welcome sleep, as it drowned out her remaining senses.

She was sore, when she woke up.

It was an aching pain, the kind that needed too much rest and too little scarring for Kit’s taste, pulling a muffled, disgruntled grunt from her lips as she sat up. She wasn’t surprised to see the minimalistic furnishings of the master bedroom - Toshinori’s bedroom, although they shared it more often than not, these days. Glancing towards her chest, she found that she’d been stripped of what was left of her clothes, the tattered remains replaced with medical tape and gauze, each flex and flinch revealing some new bruise or cut she’d have to be wary of for the next few days. Weeks, more realistically, but she tried not to think about that.

Instead, she concentrated on the rustling in the next room over, movements poorly concealed in an attempt to not disturb the peace. She didn’t call out, choosing to bite the bullet rather than delay the inevitable. Swinging her legs off the bed, she made her way to the bathroom, finding Toshinori sitting on the edge of a tub too big to be considered anything but overly-luxurious. He turned as soon as she crossed the threshold, but chose to scan over her silently, testing the water before he spoke. Trying to see if she was still frenzied and feral. It was all she could do to smile, digging her nails into the doorframe unconsciously.

“I… I’m ready, if you want to get it over with,” She started, watching Toshinori’s expression carefully. He looked surprised, if anything, but it was understandable. It’d been months since she did something bad enough to warrant discipline. “The punishment, I mean, for attacking Endeavor.” She paused, averting her eyes, her voice barely audible when she continued. “I’m sorry. I really, really don’t want you to be mad at me.”

He frowned. Then, he laughed. “I’m not angry.”

Her lips parted, no sound coming out, but Toshinori only chuckled, gesturing for her to come closer. She obeyed without a second thought, a fully prepared bath coming into view, steam still rising off the top of the water. She didn’t have to be told what to do, stepping in and taking his hand, tugging him towards her when he showed no signs of following, a playful smile pulling at the corners of her lips. Toshinori relented without an argument, and a moment later, she was settled in his lap, her head resting against his chest as he idly traced the shape of a smaller wound, just to the left of her spine. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to, either. Her concern was palpable, whether or not she chose to voice it.

“You know about the security cameras,” Toshinori explained, kissing her shoulder between words. They were soft little things, as careful and as matriculate as she’d come to expect from Toshinori, but she melted into it, letting out a low, languid purr as his lips brushed over her mating mark, the bruised area still sensitive to the touch. “I saw what happened. Enji tested you, and you defended yourself. I can’t hold that against you, not when I wasn’t there to stop it.”

“I’m your mate,” She mumbled, the words little more than a hum. “I don’t want anybody else.”

“Of course.” Another kiss, this one longer, drawn out. She felt her ears perk up, standing on edge. Ready and waiting for any lingering sensation. A long finger trailed down her spine, and unconsciously, Kit bucked her kips against Toshinori’s thigh, the water abruptly becoming more of a menace than a helping hand. He chuckled, the sound muffled by their proximity. “My loyal, beloved mate. My perfect mate. I couldn’t have asked for a better omega.”

Her response comes in the form of a whine, pitiful and high-pitched. They hadn’t been… they hadn’t been intimate since her heat ended, and although the memories were blurred and cloudy, only accessible through rose-colored glasses, but the desire was natural, the longing as instinctual as breathing. Without thinking, she ground against him, the tiny amount of friction rushing straight to her core, to her exposed, dripping cunt. Toshinori wasn’t oblivious to the atmosphere, either, something hard soon pressed against her pelvis, giving him away before those soft, light grunts slowly working their way through his lips ever had a chance to. Kit couldn’t help but laugh, nuzzling against him, his reactions filling her with a sense of confidence she’d come to miss. “My alpha.”

Nothing needed to be said. She pulled away, wrapping her arms around her neck and straddling him properly, only hovering above him for a moment before she sank onto his cock, trusting the hand resting on her hip to guide her. She moved slowly, taking her time to feel every ridge and curve and foreign sensation, all of it so much more vivid than it’d been, last time, so much more real. There was no rush to satisfaction, no need to race towards a climax, and she let herself savor it, slotting her chest against his and pulling him into a kiss. Slow and steady seemed to be the order of the night, but Kit was forced to pull away as she bottomed out, a handful of light, breathy pants interrupting the steady silence. Kit closed her eyes, attempting to adjust to his size, and Toshinori brought his hips up in short, shallow thrusts, getting her comfortable on his cock. It was a passing courtesy, though. When he leaned back, his eyes meeting hers expectantly, she knew what to do.

Experimentally, she ground downward, her pants quickly turning to whimpers as she began to roll her hips in earnest. It didn’t take her long to build up a rhythm, bouncing in Toshinori’s lap and targeting that special, spongy spot inside of her, the one that had her seeing white around the edges of her vision, the pursuit of her pleasure becoming an end that needed to be met. As she worked, Toshinori’s hands ran over her, starting at her waist and trailing up her sides, Kit shuddering despite the room’s nearly over-whelming heat. To say he groped would be a disgrace, it was too caring for such a casual name, too focused on her needs. Each knead was tentative, focused on drawing the longest whine from her throat or the loudest moan, heat rushing straight to her core with every movement, forcing her to arch her back and keen and melt in the palms of his hands, whether or not she wanted to. She wasn’t opposed, through, burying her face in the crook of his neck, if only to hide how flustered she’d become.

It was an invasive thought, at first. How smooth his skin was. How there wasn’t a mark where there was supposed to be. It took her a moment to realize why, and another to come to a resolution.

He didn’t have a mating mark.

She needed to fix that.

“T-Toshi’,” She stuttered, his name coming out shakily as he fucked into her, making up for her distraction with an erratic, enthusiastic pace, despite his disadvantage. Still, she forced herself to continue, not trusting her voice to hold out for much longer. “You’re not… I need to bond--”

He didn’t let her finish, kind enough not to make her explain herself. “It’d be my honor,” He muttered, wrapping his arms around her waist, drawing her closer. Her was the one to pull her in, this time, to kiss her so sweetly and so lightly, she almost wanted to deepen it, to turn the gesture from reassuring to intimate. She didn’t have time, though, not as Toshinori straightened his back, meeting her stare as he went on. “Are you sure, angel? You’re still injured, you might not be in the right mindset to do something so… permanent.”

“That’s why I want to do it,” She responded, unperturbed by his caution. Subconsciously, she ran her tongue over her canines, keen for an omega, but dull compared to Toshinori’s. Sharp enough to do the job, hopefully. “I don’t want to leave you, anymore. I want to be here. And… I want you to know I’ll be here, too. You can trust me, and I want you to know that. I’m done trying to run away.”

A sharp breath, followed by a hasty nod. That was all the permission she needed before picking a spot on that tender patch of skin and biting down. Blood, thick and warm, flowed over her tongue, but the metallic taste was blocked out quickly by the sudden rush of something euphoric into her veins, hormones flooding into her mind and blocking out everything else, pride and common sense included. It felt good, right, and briefly, Kit wondered why she hadn’t done it sooner. Had if felt this good for Toshinori? She wanted to dig her teeth in deeper, leave a bigger mark, make sure everyone knew he was claimed, he was bonded, he was hers. Hers, hers, hers.

Toshinori didn’t seem immune. It might’ve been the adrenaline rush or its accompanying emotions, but the next time he was fully sheathed inside of her, his hold on her waist tightened, keeping her in place as his cock twitched, singling his upcoming end. It couldn’t have come at a better time. Already, Kit felt herself tending up, that familiar heat rising to her skin as her toes curled and her nails dug into his shoulders, just in time to feel hot, burning cum stain her cunt as Toshinori pistoned his hips harshly, making sure she was filled to the brim.

Her strength didn’t last much longer, and soon, she was resting against his chest, her grip around her mate still iron-clad for minutes before she dared to let it loosen. Exhausted by both her injuries and her recent excursion, she hardly noticed as he took her into his arms, her body weightless for a moment or two as he carried her back into the bedroom, both uncaring that they were still soaking wet and dotted with open wounds. Toshinori left, for a short time, returning with towels and bandages and painkillers to be used generously the next time she woke up. Still, he didn’t waste time slotting himself into her arms, and she didn’t oppose the development, simply holding him closer and taking everything in, from the distant scent of herbs in the air to the feeling of silk against her back, welcoming and embracing.

Idly, she opened her eyes, running her fingers through damp blonde hair and letting him lull into her palm, but her attention soon fell to the ring of bruises forming at the crook of his neck, the shape of her teeth perfectly engrained on each blackened spot.

Kit couldn’t help but smile. He was hers, now, almost as much as she was his.

Her alpha.

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foolorn-blog · 7 years

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10 steps in self-destruction, or, alternately; How I let this shit fucking happen. Again.

One;

When I met you, you neglected to tell me that you had the power to summon earthquakes

your words

the fissure that ruptured beneath my feet and sent me down to dance with gravity

“I need to be alone”

That death sentence waited at the bottom of a ravine composed of all of the words I couldn’t say

Because none of them would soften the impact

I wanted to scream

“Do you have any idea what you’re throwing away?”

But instead I hit the earth just hard enough to send the futility six feet deep

and the question little more than a voiceless tombstone

I’ve always treated heartbreak like a best friend

because we are always bumping into each other

hands interlocked in the ten steps it takes to dive over an edge

Two;

I’m familiar with edges

I thought I would recognize the one you used to get under my skin

I have thick skin

but it bleeds like blotter paper

I read somewhere once

that at one time people used bloodletting to cure themselves from diseases

but you’ve been spilling out of me for days now

and I can’t

lose anymore

How many times do I have to flay myself before someone takes

the scalpel out of my hand

How many veins do I have to knot around my neck

before you realize that my heart is a noose that won’t allow me to breathe

Three;

When I was a little girl

I used to tell myself that the flowers I couldn’t plant at home

I could deposit in gardens I shared with other people

My parents never told me I could raise those flowers within myself

Please look at me

Pull away my petals and I am the last one you hope to reach

“she loves me”

you may have never brought me flowers

but that’s okay because not all graves get to see bouquets

my love for you died before i knew what it was

and I don’t think I could stand on that freshly turned earth

without baptizing it all

with the ocean you’re tearing out of me

Four;

I’ve taken

six baths

since you stopped talking to me

And I’ve realized I’m never going to be clean

I look at my skin and all I can see is a flesh-bound mausoleum

Every man who touches me finds ghosts in the crypts of my pores

and not one of them has had the courage to love a girl who is haunted

My breast is a godless cathedral that howls with the disconnected

phantoms of every ‘I love you’ that has ever stepped inside

I lit candles in my body to try to make myself glow

but I’ve only burned myself to the ground

again

Tell me how to resurrect the dead with the ashes

Five;

Why is it that people are so careless with their words?

I’ve spent the entirety of my life

always

struggling to choose them carefully

because some syllables are like syrup

but others are like strychnine

Tell me which one you had under your tongue when you kissed me

I don’t want to believe that I’m rotting

but my insides have spoiled

and I can’t differentiate between a stomach sick on poisons

or sweets

now when I open my mouth the only thing I can taste is my own

disappointment

I can’t get the goodbye off of my lips

but you walked away with the best part of me between your teeth

Six;

Who got the best part of you?

How many girls did it take to break you to the point where

the only way you know to survive is to replace the pieces

with the ones you take from other people

I don’t regret giving myself to you

But the problem with allowing people to take what they need

is that sometimes it’s everything

and everything isn’t always enough

I want to be

enough

You never understood what I meant but maybe that was because broken bodies don’t take transplants

and there’s no such thing

as a person who can love with only half a heart

Seven;

I had a friend tell me that my softness had volatility to it

That on my head I wore horns of blue velvet

and I want nothing more

than to embody what that compliment was

So that maybe the next time someone steps into my life

they might know that they won’t

hurt me and walk away unscathed

My love

has the power to move mountains

But now I only want to see them fall

How many centuries did it take to raise the Appalachians

Because they are nothing in comparison to the alps you’ve put up between us

Eight;

I still don’t know which part of what you said was the lie

My friends tell me that I am so good

at agonizing over things that I can’t change

And the one thing I have always wanted to change was myself

why did you tell me I was special if I was so easy to throw away?

Which limb did you have to lop off to free yourself from the vice that kept you with me?

Because I’m still trying to identify which of my wrists is still fastened in the snares of what you said

I could free myself if I had the courage to kill the part of me that still cares about you

how many of us are still walking around baring the scars of too many close escapes

how many of your wounds could I count if you lay yourself bare

I’m sorry that I backed you into a corner

I should have known better having already felt the bite of an injured animal

Nine;

They say every demon wants it’s share of flesh

but I have given pound after pound

and filled the bellies of my devils with everything I have to offer

And they’ve never gotten off my back

My spine is perpetually bent carrying the weight of gorged failures

that have never once given me what I wanted

but once you sell your soul for love

there isn’t ever any turning back

I always hoped my path would intertwine with someone like you

but now our roads are diverging and I don’t want to be misery’s company

anymore

I am a slave to my sins

and hell isn’t a place it’s mindset

Do I really have to let you go for you to see that?

Ten;

If you have to go

Please be well

Please promise me

that if this small

beautiful thing had to die before it could ever begin

it might somehow act as a catalyst for your happiness to grow where once you had thought the fields were barren

I have always felt more like a lily pad than a woman

something men jump to and from before they reach what is it that they really want

I wanted you

More than I have ever wanted anyone in my entire life

and if I can’t have you

I hope that you can at least have happiness

because maybe then I can believe I will eventually have it too.

#poetry #poem #spilled ink #written word #spoken word #love #sadness #poets on tumblr #poets of tumblr

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thecoroutfitters · 7 years

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When you are in a life or death situation with just a few seconds to a minute remaining, some strategies will work better than others. Ultimately, you’ll be locked into your decision to stay and fight it out until you win or you die, or to try and escape.

Playing dead is one of these strategies: a double edged sword that you should handle carefully. It can help you, or it can also cost your life instead of saving it. In the end, it all depends on the mindset and will of those you encounter, humans and animals equally.

Let’s have a look at some different scenarios and what is likely to happen if you try to play dead. It will help you build the mindset you need to survive!

3 Second SEAL Test Will Tell You If You’ll Survive A SHTF Situation

Scenario 1: Active Shooter Scenarios

Police say most active shooters can take months to years to plan out and gather everything they need to carry out their final scene.

On the other hand, you might not be prepared to face this challenge and have to think fast to find a way to survive. So, are you going to play dead to stay alive? Before deciding, consider that:

An active shooter most likely has a real, imagined, or socially induced grudge or grievance.

The shooter has already decided that violence is the only answer.

This person has more than likely listened to music, played video games, or read materials that encourage the expression violence.

The shooter has also decided that killing others is an acceptable outcome even if they are not directly associated with the grievance or similar to those that are directly associated.

The shooter may have communicated his/her intent to others, thus making a commitment to follow through.

Has already developed a plan, rehearsed it, and acquired weapons.

Ultimately, has a sense of hopelessness, desperation, and despair.

An active shooter is locked into a drama inside his/her head, and they may or may not be paying attention to how many people they have actually killed. Rather, as long as people go down, and there is plenty of blood around, they may assume you are dead if you look dead.

During the Charleston church shooting, it was Dylann Roof’s belief that he was there to start a race war. He chose the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston South Carolina because it is one of the United States’ oldest continuous running Black churches.

Each victim was shot multiple times to ensure that they were dead. One survivor of the killing spree, did, in fact, escape detection by laying in her own son’s blood and playing dead. The survivor was very lucky this strategy worked, however not every shooter would or will just pass a still body, especially if they have a good sense of where their bullets have struck.

That being said, following the Paris terrorist attacks the United Kingdom’s Terrorism Security Office issued new guidelines that amount to:

Run – Clear the active shooting areas as fast as possible without getting shot.

Hide – Find a safe place to hide. Wait for the police or other proper authorities to come and get you.

Tell – Tell the authorities everything you saw, did, and noticed during the active shooting event.

The US Department of Homeland Security’s guide for an active shooting situation following the San Bernardino California incident also say that people should run and hide. Instead of “tell”, they recommend, as a last resort, making an improvised weapon and fighting to protect yourself and others.

But in an active shooting scenario, no professional or professional organization that I know of, recommends playing dead. I don’t recommend it because, in a split second, it is very hard to tell exactly what kind of person you are dealing with or what is going on in their sick little mind.

There have been volumes written on the difference between a crazy person acting out a drama for personal benefit and a terrorist that is more interested in killing as a social statement instead of an emotional one. In fact, some even say there is no difference at all, or that a person can change as the situation progresses.

Scenario 2: Terror Attacks

If you are in a terrorist attack, run, try to escape, and take as many others with you as possible. If you do play dead in a terrorist attack, it is likely the terrorist will not see an end of a life. Instead, they may see a body that can be used to “send a message” to anyone who is watching.

It is nothing for a terrorist to mutilate a dead body while video taping their escapades. Later on, it will become a training video and inspiration for others, as well as the means to terrorize their sworn opponents. In the end, if you can’t escape, you must fight to the death.

Scenario 3: Armed Robberies

For many people living in the cities or suburbs armed robberies are an every day event. If you cooperate with the robber most of the time they will not hurt you because they just want valuables. If you try to fight back, the robber could very easily shoot you or stab you.

On the other hand, if you fake being sick (such as having a seizure or heart attack), or pretend to fall over dead while playing sick, the robber may leave the scene abruptly.

Robbers do not want undue attention drawn to the area during the robbery. A lot depends on how the robber responds to stress and what is in their mind. Where some will run, others may kick you, stamp on you, or shoot you.

Playing dead is very dangerous in any type of armed robbery. They may even put a bullet in you just to make sure you can’t act as a witness later on.

Scenario 4: Domestic Violence

The frequency and severity of domestic violence can vary dramatically. However, the one constant component of domestic violence is one of the partner’s constant efforts to maintain power and control over the other.

Domestic violence also usually intensifies over time. It can begin with simple name calling and end up with great bodily harm and psychological damage. In all too many cases domestic violence ends in death.

Domestic violence does not always end when the victim escapes the abuser, tries to terminate the relationship, or seeks help. The abuser will continue to stalk, threatened, and try to control the victim after the victim has escaped. As a result, the victim is usually in the most danger following an attempt to exit the relationship. 20% of victims of domestic violence with restraining orders are usually found murdered within 2 days after obtaining the court order.

Quite frankly, playing dead in this situation is not a viable answer. It will not stop the beatings or the violence. If the person has decided to kill, or is in an uncontrollable rage, your stillness may be an invitation to carry out more violence until you are actually dead.

As with other violent situations, you must move to escape and ask for help, or you must fight for your life.

Scenario 5: Street Fights

If you run into an experience street fighter it means that he is strong, aggressive, and can throw extremely hard punches with good knock down power. It also means that this fighter will be willing to bite you, choke you, claw at your eyes, or use what are considered dirty tactics.

There are many methods that you can practice to take your street fighting skills to a successful level, however playing dead isn’t one of them.

Consider that it is very common for a street fighter to try to choke you. Pretending you are dead will more than likely result in your neck being twisted and broken until you are actually dead.

You can use feints or false relaxing to gain an edge, however those are advanced skills that must be carried out in a split second. You must learn and practice often to know when and how to use them. They bear no resemblance to playing dead for several moments.

Scenario 6: Animal Attacks

The best way to avoid wildlife problems is to use common sense. Be aware of what’s around you, what kind of animals you are likely to encounter, and the danger they pose. The most dangerous animals that you’ll run into in North America are cougars, bears, moose, deer, elk, buffalo, wolves, and coyotes.

When interacting with dangerous large animals of North America you may have to fight these animals in order to survive. Sometimes playing dead may be your only option to survive these vicious attacks.

Unlike dealing with humans, animals are more predictable within their species. Wild animals may maul and seriously injure a human, but they will stop short of killing and simply walk away. Man, on the other hand, kills for fun and sport; and will carry through to ending a life.

Here are some observations about wild animals you may encounter, and whether or not it is a good strategy to play dead around them.

Bear

Bears are extremely dangerous regardless of the species. They are most inclined to attack when you surprise them, they think you are competing for food, you corner them, or get between a mother and her cubs.

Even the less dangerous bear species will attack when they are hungry. Only play dead when you cannot escape and all else fails.

You might get bit, or even clawed. Unless the bear is hungry, it should leave after that. If you panic while you are playing dead, do not get up, and start to run away. The odds are the bear will run you down and kill you.

Cougar

Cougar attacks are no time to play dead or make yourself look small or weak. Under no circumstances do you crouch down or play dead. These large cats are active predators that will stalk, kill, and eat their prey either animal or human.

Moose

Moose attacks can be staved off by playing dead. Curl up in a ball to protect yourself against the kicks and the stomps. Do not move until the moose goes away or it will renew its’ attack against you.

Deer

Deer and elk attacks can also be staved off by playing dead. As with moose, curl up in a ball or fetal position to protect your head, neck, and vital organs. The animals will kick at you, but they will eventually leave you alone.

Buffalo

Buffalo are always risky to deal with, however playing dead works. These huge animals can head-butt, gore, or stomp, in a matter of seconds. If you are knocked down stay down and play dead. Normally after a buffalo has charged it will wander off and resume grazing.

Wolf and Coyote

Wolf and coyote attacks are becoming more common. These are very cunning and highly intelligent animals that stalk their prey by sneaking in from behind to nip and ripped leg muscles to disable their victim. Once you are down the whole pack will swarm in on you for the kill.

Under no circumstances should you play dead. Your best defense is to kill or injure as many as possible until you can escape. Focusing on the first attacker or dominant animal in the pack may or may not work.

How to Play Dead

It is my personal opinion that playing dead to survive a criminal encounter is extremely dangerous and could lead to your death.

If you do play dead it is a last-ditch attempt to surviving a criminal encounter where the odds are you would be shot or murdered anyway.

If you are going to play dead, don’t just fall to the ground. Make it look like the attack was so bad, you actually died.

Once you have stopped moving, try to hold your breath. When you must breathe, take shadow slow breaths.

If you want to watch what’s going on around you, keep your eyelids almost closed and look through the tiny slits. Do not make any fast eye movements.

When playing dead, be ready for the other person to strike you or take other steps to see if you are actually dead. No matter what the test is, chances are it is going to hurt. Unless you are trained to use this split second to attack, chances are your involuntary responses will get you killed.

Skills to Practice

Even though playing dead is not a good idea if you encounter a violent human, it does work for some animals. In the latter situation, you may have to play dead for several moments.

Here are some things to practice:

Breath control – know how to control breathing so that no motion is seen or felt. Use meditation to help avoid panic, and also to breathe as lightly and slowly as possible.

Be completely still for long periods of time.

Learn how to look around a room without being noticed.

Under no circumstances do you cough, burp, sneeze, pass gas, or make other noises or odors.

Playing dead may or may not work if your life is in serious danger. When encountering humans, use this method only as a last resort. You can use playing dead more effectively when encountering wild animals depending on the species.

Playing dead can be an effective and life saving strategy, however you must know how to use it properly.

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This article has been written by Fred Tyrell for Survivopedia.

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