I can't edit my bio right now, so I'll say it here:
I'm older than 18. If you're not comfortable with that, please leave. Thank you.
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This is my Masterlist. There's not much on it, I know. With time maybe I'll be able to write more!
Detroit: Become Human
The Society
Clark Beecher:
Caught Between The Tides
๛ The guard unexpectedly joins forces with Campbell to overthrow Allie’s leadership, leaving you grappling with betrayal and confusion. After the arrest, you do your best to avoid Clark, struggling to reconcile his actions with the loving boyfriend you once knew.
Dexter
Brian Moser/Rudy Cooper:
Shape Of You
๛ Brian takes care of your injury after you've taken a nasty fall, however you can't help but feel like something's off about the situation. Unaware of his dark thoughts and oblivious to the deeper manipulation at play, you clear your mind by focussing on his comforting presence, and things quickly get heated.
Gavin Reed:
Glued Together Pieces of Plastic
๛ Gavin Reed searches Connors' place for you and confronts you about pretending to be a human and faking your feelings for him.
¹³ Reasons Why
Justin Foley:
Messy Excuse of A Boyfriend
๛ Justin Foley has been missing for a week, but you're finally able to find him and figure out what happened.
The Devil All The Time
Lee Bodecker:
Left For Dead
๛ You're new in town and manage to unintentionally catch the Sheriff's attention. Being his girl doesn't only give advantages though.
Can somebody, anybody, please, for the love of eywa, write a so'lek/reader fic where the reader is a soldier with an avatar fighting with the RDA, and he's tasked with teaching her the ways of the Na'vi and slowly falls in love with her the way neytiri fell for Jake 😩
Warning these notes are very spoiler heavy and talks about a lot of late game content.
@elffees
These are some of Alma’s easiest to find notes and on the surface they paint a picture of a kind, maternal woman worried about the kids she was forced to leave behind. Two words jump out at me in the last two notes though “sacrifice” and “choice. I’ll talk about that at the end though. The next part is where things get messy.
These are all her notes, the rest of this is going to be a bit of a rant because these last few notes are the ones that make my blood boil.
Alma never planned on rescuing them. While putting on a motherly facade she planned on leaving all of the Sarentu survivors to rot until their life support gave out. The only thing that made her act was the fact that wonderful Priya found out we were there, otherwise no one was coming for us.
Then there is how she refers to the children in “The Final Option”. She talks about all the potential glory and accolades she’ll get once she “has” them. Not when they come to her, when she possesses them. She acts like she doesn’t know in the notes, but she admits in game that deep down she knew they were going to steal the kids and killed Na’vi and let it happen anyway so she could have her little project. This is the “sacrifice” she’s trying to frame in the note “Back to Tap”. Personally I don’t see how a genocide and kidnapping is in anyway a “sacrifice”, sounds more like a war crime to me.
Last is the School Records and two things important to note are the initials in the document and the of “additional note” versus “note”. The initials show that only two people wrote in this document AC (Alma Cortez) and JM (John Mercer). Every single section degrades the children and talks about the “best” ways to manipulate them to TAP’s goals before being followed up with an “additional note” by Alma saying the opposite. The thing is I fully believe that Alma wrote the original sections and that the “additional notes” have been edited in later to try and cover her involvement in TAP.
The thing that makes me think this is Alma’s position as teacher and Mercer’s note. Alma was the one who spent the most time with the students, she’s the one who observed every aspect of their day to day, so she is the only person it would logically make sense to write about their temperaments and interests. Mercer had other things to do besides sitting around a classroom all day watching these kids, same for Harding. They’d be able to step in as discipline and for surprise inspections, but Alma was clearly the main observer. That means all the coded talk about discipline(abuse) and skills(usefulness to the RDA) is all her.
Mercer’s note was the big tip off to me that she retroactively edited the document. Mercer’s only note is that Aha’ri was killed. It was probably entered immediately after her death, because Mercer doesn’t care. He’s meticulous, organized, compulsive, etc. He doesn’t see the children as anything more than a tool so he has no shame in updating the document like it was a regular note about a generator going out. Because he entered it immediately the entry was logged as “note”.
A lot of websites will mark a comment as edited after a certain amount of time has passed. I feel like this is the case with the “note” vs “additional note”. The second giveaway is that Alma’s final note calling Mercer’s murderer is also logged as an “additional note” when there is no reason for Alma to manually input it herself. By that logic all of the additional notes were logged long after the original document was made and it’s just Alma’s way of trying to minimize her role in the abuse at TAP. This means that all of the suggested “discipline” aka brutal bone breaking and beatings was recommended by her in certain cases.
Alma isn’t a good person, she has a toxic savior complex and will go to any means to see that vision met. She might be on the right side, she might be doing good things now, but she is not a good person. Maybe she can be forgiven one day, but she’s still in toomuch denial about her own involvement to be forgiven this day.
So, I just finished the main story of Avatar: Frontiers of Pandora - WARNING! SPOILERS AHEAD!
First off, I want to talk about the cons of the game before jumping into the pros, but to be honest with ya, the cons are few and far in between and were more about personal preference then the performance of the game itself.
For starters:
1. The Glitches - Like literally, during a few quests, there will be some dialogue, but it'll randomly cut out with the excuse that enemies are near by, when that is absolutely not the case. It was only so bad that I had to exit to the main menu and then get back on in order for it to fix, so this was minor in comparison to other glitches like falling through the map randomly (which happened to me once during my play through of Far Cry 4 :p)
2. The Language - This is just a little peeve of mine, but I wish that the Na'vi, at least when talking amongst themselves and to us, spoke in Na'vi. Like, if Ubisoft could record a whole 'nother language for Far Cry Primal, they could have done it here. And I also wish that the animals, especially the Palulukan, were referred to by it's Na'vi names rather then human names.
3. The Main Character's Name - This is minor really, but I don't like how we are not given a name. Like, I get that it's fun coming up with names for our original character, but it's a bit isolating to only be referred to as 'the Sarentu'.
Not only does it make it seem like our identity as a member of a respected clan matters more then our identity as our own complex individual, but it feels weird when you read notes and listen to audio logs about the other Sarentu kids and not one thing about us, especially when Alma talks about how they're acclimation to life in the Resistance. Like how we're developing doesn't matter at all in comparison to how Ri'nela is coming into the role of leader and Tsahìk.
Not even a mention of our relation to Aha'ri when she writes about her murder and how it could be affecting us.
Like, just a gender-neutral name to tie things in, like Dani in Far Cry 6, would go a long way to make our character feel like a part of the story and not just a nameless side character doing all the hard work, like the Rookie from Far Cry 5.
4. The Villain - This is more of a 'meh' thing for me. Like yeah, Mercer was an asshole, but again, pulling from Far Cry here, who had amazing, complex villains like Vaas Montenegro or Pagan Min, and what we get is... a entitled, racist narcissist whose barely there, and therefore we get zero from this guy. He was more annoying then anything, like literally every time he talk, my eyes rolled into the back of my skull.
Like, could you imagine if AFOP made Mercer like Pagan Min, the tyrant king of Kyrat who had a relationship with Ajay Ghale's mother to the point where he was sympathetic to the loss of his mother. Pagan Min would just randomly call Ajay on his radio like an eccentric father-figure, and in two endings of the game, he'll actually help you out, taking you to Lakshamana so that you can place your mother's ashes beside her, just like she wanted, which is very generous considering that in one of those endings, it's after you lead a massive rebellion right to his door-step, taking out his generals and so-on! (Pagan is my favourite Far Cry villain is you haven't figured that, Vaas is a close second)
If you gave Mercer that kind of depth, then maybe you can actually understand why Teylan would believe Mercer wouldn't hurt anybody when he gave the location of the Resistance Base away.
Harding as well was mediocre. Just a hard-as-nails general that's running a pouching operation on the side. Like, if you made her even a fraction of insane like you did Vaas, I could actually be into it.
So anyway, on to the pros!
1. The Gameplay - I know people moaned about the mechanics being too similar to Far Cry, but honestly, that was what drew me to it when I first saw the trailer for it! Far Cry is my favourite first-person shooter franchise (Far Cry 4 and Far Cry Primal being my favourites). The crafting of weapons, the hunting for food, skins and ingredients and the little things what made it unique was amazing to me,
The hunting was a pain, because half the time (for me anyway) I could almost never get a clean kill for the smaller or quick-moving animals, but I think it was done super well. When you hit an animal in the old Far Cry games, they either just drop dead or run away and bleed out quietly. But here, when it's an unclean kill, the animal squirms and writhes in pain before succumbing to it's wounds, really driving in the whole point of the Na'vi way of life (that's how I saw it anyway).
And the Memory Paintings, though tedious at most times, was another fun and unique mechanic to the game and felt very Na'vi to me and I enjoyed concentrating on them all and hearing the MC's interpretations of the Memory Paintings and the Sarentu Totems.
And the moments when you're flying on your Ikran or Pa'li made me feel like I was in an RPG, like Horizon, so that was a nice little touch. It was like they mashed two of my favorite games into one.
And in the end, it's not the gameplay that makes me play the game. It's the story.
2. The Harmful Effects of the RDA - There was not a minute within this story where it's quests and stories didn't resonate with me.
How the Kinglor of the Aranahe forest was displaced by the RDA's actions, giving us a Yellowstone situation where a key member of the ecosystem was being pushed out and it was causing all sorts of problems for the local flora and fauna.
The aforementioned poaching in Zeswa territory, where the Zakru were being hunted and killed for their tusks and how even their long deceased skeletons were being pilfered, very similar to elephant and rhino poaching, especially as Zakru are sacred animals to the Zeswa.
And then the Yavä, the green fog that brought sickness to the Kame'tire, something that happened, by the way, because the RDA disposed of the Sarentu's bodies by using caustic chemicals!!! (like, what the FUCK, Alma!) but anyway, is very reminiscent to the diseases that European settlers brought in to the native populace, who never had to build up immune systems for it and suffered because of it.
What I'm getting at here, is how big of a problem the RDA is, not just for going to war with Jake and the Omaticaya, but also by causing the exact same problems that people did on Earth and are still doing to Earth. In so many, seemingly innocuous way, the RDA are negatively effecting the ecosystem, the wildlife and the locals in their pursuit of a paycheck that, realistically, would never be able to use until they get off planet, and that is if they don't die on an alien moon because of all those problems.
3. The Efforts of the Resistance
Every time I got to talk with the Resistance members was a highlight for me. I truly do not understand how some people don't like Priya. I found her adorable, and she gave me Penelope Garcia vibes from Criminal Minds. And her budding romance with Resistance Pilot Anqa, whose history with incursion on her desert homeland inspired her to take action against the RDA.
Or Hajir's regrets for playing part in the Severeds origins, concluding how they are in a constant state of anger and sadness.
Or Billy, who break-dances as he's helping you escape imprisonment, before sacrificing himself to save what's left of the Resistance.
And then there's the Na'vi Clans that I just loved and each and every one of it's characters had me giddy. The playful old grandmother in Nefika and her immediate action to take us in and show us around the Hometree, the Zeswa sisters and their rightous anger over the poaching, the eccentricities of Okul and their faith in the Kame'tire's tradtions.
Honestly I could go on and on about every single character in this game. Nalin and her tentative offer to fill in the void of mother during the party, the Burden Carrier and the Milk Crafter who got drunk off their ass, saying the zakru can fly while we're trying to warn them of impending danger and Mosaka, who not only gave our clan's location away to the RDA, but used their deaths to manipulate his way into power and control over the clan by framing Anufi for their demise. (BTW, fuck you Mosaka)
That's all I got for now, but once the DLCs come in, I am defiantly playing through the whole game again and I may come back to this post with an update when that happens, along with my stance on said DLCs.
Welcome to my Masterlist for all things I've created regarding the TV Show “Dexter”! I will try to keep this as updated as possible.
Click here for my Main Masterlist
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× Contents ×
Last Updated On
Requests
🌶️ ☔ 💥 🧸 🕳️ 🎭 🔞
Writing Masterlist
Gifs Masterlist
Tag List
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1. Last Updated On
September 23, 2024
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2. Requests
Requests are OPEN for the following characters:
Dexter Morgan
Brian Moser/Rudy Cooper
You can try to request something for characters that aren't on this list as well, however it's much less likely that I'll actually write for them.
On how or what to request, please check out My Main Post About Requesting!
3. 🌶️ ☔ 💥 🧸 🕳️ 🎭 🔞
I use one or more of the 7 emojis to give you a better understanding of what the content involves. Here's a guide on what they mean:
🌶️ ➞ Smut, usually contains sexual content and/or physical intimacy
☔ ➞ Angst, usually contains emotional pain of some kind and/or evokes sadness/melancholy
💥 ➞ Action/Violence, usually contains fast-paced events and/or physical conflict, often with graphic descriptions
🧸 ➞ Fluff, usually contains feel-good situations with a focus on comfort and/or affection
🕳️ ➞ Dark Stuff, usually contains heavy, disturbing, and potentially triggering topics (Mental illness, (sexual) abuse, trauma, etc.)
🎭 ➞ Drama, usually contains intense emotional shifts and/or emotional turmoil, with moments of tension, conflict, and/or resolution
🔞 ➞ Mature Content, usually contains explicit content that is not suitable for minors (Graphic sexual scenes, extreme violence, mature themes, and/or other adult-oriented material)
‼️ These emojis are only to give you a quick overview, please still read the warnings on each story to make sure they're suitable for you ‼️
4. Writing Masterlist
Brian Moser/Rudy Cooper:
✒ Haunted Reflections
☔💥🔞(🕳️🎭)
Summary: You head to your routine appointment for a readjustment of your prosthetic leg at the Miami prosthetics clinic. This time, however, you are met with Rudy Cooper instead of your usual doctor. Unbeknownst to you, his dark secrets lie hidden beneath the surface, and you’ve unwittingly captured his undivided attention and care.
Warnings: References to Violence and Murder, mentions of Stalking, Trauma (related to losing a limb & violent incidents), Obsessive Thoughts, Unhealthy Behavior, graphic descriptions in thoughts of Gore (Violence, Bloodshed, a bit of Body Mutilation), Moral Ambiguity (we're talking about Brian Moser here, hello?), Insults (like a single word lol), mentions of Drugs (two sentences, nothing about taking them), mentions of Death
Word Count: 3.271
×
✒ Shape Of You
🌶️ 🕳️🔞(☔)
Summary: Brian takes care of your injury after you've taken a nasty fall, however you can't help but feel like something's off about the situation. Unaware of his dark thoughts and oblivious to the deeper manipulation at play, you clear your mind by focussing on his comforting presence, and things quickly get heated.
Warnings: Mentions of an injury and that it's being taken care of (nothing too graphic), Depictions of Sexual Content (Minors DNI!), Rough/Intense Sexual Content, could be considered Dubcon by coercion (not really imo, but just to be on the safe side), Themes of Possession and Objectification
Word Count: 3.271
⊸
Dexter Morgan:
✒ Nothing yet
5. Gifs Masterlist
⏯ Nothing yet
6. Tag List
I don't have a tag list yet. If you want to be tagged in the future for anything specifically (all writings for a specific character for example), feel free to let me know and I'll create one and put you on it!🙏🏼💞
Warnings: References to Violence and Murder, mentions of Stalking, Trauma (related to losing a limb & violent incidents), Obsessive Thoughts, Unhealthy Behavior, graphic descriptions in thoughts of Gore (Violence, Bloodshed, a bit of Body Mutilation), Moral Ambiguity (we're talking about Brian Moser here, hello?), Insults (like a single word lol), mentions of Drugs (two sentences, nothing about taking them), mentions of Death
Fandom: Dexter (TV Show/Series)
Pairing: Brian Moser/Rudy Cooper x F!Reader
Request by: @ireallydontknowohcrabs
Summary: You head to your routine appointment for a readjustment of your prosthetic leg at the Miami prosthetics clinic. This time, however, you are met with Rudy Cooper instead of your usual doctor. Unbeknownst to you, his dark secrets lie hidden beneath the surface, and you’ve unwittingly captured his undivided attention and care.
Word Count: 2.321
My Masterlist
A/N: Initially wasn't sure about which direction to go with this request, but I decided on one eventually.😅 It was fun to write, so I hope you guys will it!💞 Reposts/Comments with feedback are, as always, very much appreciated!!🙏🏼 And just as a reminder: My requests are currently open.🥰💙
You expected this visit to be the same as any other to the prosthetics clinic usually was.
You were going to meet Dr. Gardner, the prosthetist who had been with you since you’d first been fitted for your prosthetic leg, and he'd make a slight adjustment to it, and then you'd leave again.
But instead of that being the case, when you walked into the clinic today, you were greeted by someone else. A man, much younger than Dr. Gardner, with a tall frame and dark curly hair stood by the window and was currently slipping on his gloves. The doctor, obvious by the signature-white lab coat he was wearing, calmly turned to you with a professional and slightly reassuring smile.
“Unfortunately Dr. Gardner’s out sick at the moment,” he immediately explained, his voice smooth and composed. “I'm filling in for him, so I’ll be the one handling your adjustment today. My name's Dr. Rudy Cooper, it's nice to meet you.” He shook your hand gently before gesturing to the chair in the middle of the room. “Please, have a seat.”
You nodded, sitting down and rolling the cuff of your pant-leg up, glancing at him curiously. “Well then let’s see if you’re as good as Dr. Gardner at putting me back together.”
Brian gave a small smile as he seated himself across from you, gently lifting your leg to begin his examination on your prosthetic. “I’ll try my best. Dr. Gardner’s very good at it, from what I hear.” His voice was light, but he was already scanning you, taking in the way you moved, the way you spoke.
When his eyes reached your hands, he had to do a double take, his world stopping. Your nails, painted in the exact same way his mother used to paint hers. The hues were extremely similar, and the order of the colors was identical.
It came out of nowhere and hit him like a physical blow. For just a second his breath hitched and his usually steady hands trembled at the sight.
No. It couldn’t be. But it was.
His mother’s nails, now on your hands, like some ghostly echo of the past.
The carefully constructed facade of calm professionalism flickered for a moment as a flood of memories surged through him.
His mother’s laughter, the smell of her perfume, the soft touch of her hand as she ruffled his hair. And then… the blood. Her blood, mixing with the colors of those very same nails.
How could this be happening? He hadn’t thought about his mother in this way for so long, hadn’t let himself remember.
Blinking a few times, he quickly put your leg down and reached for your file instead, fighting to regain control over his composure.
He couldn’t lose it here. Not now. It was just a coincidence anyway. Just some random woman with the same taste in nail polish.
Still, deep down the shock lingered, sending tremors through the carefully walled-off parts of his mind.
He flipped through your file as casually as possible, clearing his throat once to keep his tone friendly, but professional. “Just going over some notes here. It says the injury happened... a few years ago? Could you remind me of what happened, just to make sure everything lines up?”
Forcing a polite smile, the mask of Rudy Cooper slipped into place, though it felt more strained than usual. His eyes couldn’t help but glance back to your nails every time you so much as shifted, the image of his mother — and her terrified eyes, her pleading hands, those painted nails — almost overlapping with you. He could barely hear your voice over the roaring in his head.
Not noticing anything off, you nodded, hesitating for a second. You hesitated, not because the incident was difficult to talk about anymore, but because it had become such a strange story to tell. You’d almost made peace with it, enough to laugh about it sometimes.
“Yeah, it was... a pretty bad day. Tried to steal some drugs. Not for me, though.” You smiled shyly, a hint of awkwardness in your tone. “My idiot ex, thought I could help him out of a mess he got himself into. But then I got cornered by three guys with a chainsaw. Like something out of a horror movie, right?” You laughed a little, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
Brian’s hands paused again, but he kept his face neutral, even with the chaos inside him growing. Drugs? That was already close enough to the horrors of his past. But then you mentioned three guys with a chainsaw, and the floor seemed to fall away beneath him. Though his expression didn’t change and he resumed his adjustment on your prosthetic, the memory inside his mind hit him like a sledgehammer, and in vivid detail as well. His mother, the men, the chainsaw whirring. He was too young to stop it, too small to save her, but the memory had never left him. The blood, the screams, the way her nails had clutched at him in desperation before the world went red.
And now here you were, sitting in front of him, your soft voice recounting a version of his nightmare.
Brian exhaled slowly, maintaining a steady voice. “That’s... an intense way to lose a leg. It must have been terrifying.” His words sounded professional, if empathetic, but internally he struggled to comprehend how this was possible. How could you have survived something so reminiscent of what happened to her?
His disbelief mixed with something darker, something predatory. He had been powerless as a child, but not now. Not anymore.
The thought of you cornered by men with a chainsaw, just like his mother, made something in him snap into place. His shock was replaced by cold determination.
It was as if the universe had handed him a second chance, a way to rewrite the past. This time was different. This time, he wouldn’t be helpless. This time, he would stop the violence, before it consumed you, too.
You gave a small shrug and kept talking, oblivious to the storm brewing inside of him. “Yeah, it was... I honestly didn't believe I’d make it out alive. But it’s been a few years now and here I am, still standing. Just… in a slightly different way.” You offered a small, self-deprecating smile. “Guess I’ve learned to adapt. Well, kind of. I’m still getting used to the leg in a way, but hey, I haven’t fallen flat on my face in a while, so I guess that’s progress.” You smiled again, this time more genuine though, trying to lighten the mood. “And at least my ex didn’t get the drugs. Silver linings, right?”
Brian’s gaze darkened slightly at that, though he kept his tone light. “I see. That’s very impressive and brave of you, as I can only imagine how tough all that must have been. I’m hoping your ex is not someone you still have to deal with on top of that?”
You hesitated, biting your lip and avoiding his eyes, a little uneasy at the topic of your ex boyfriend. “Well, actually… he’s, uh, kind of been stalking me, on and off. Nothing too serious, but... it’s still annoying, you know?”
Brian's fingers flexed around your prosthetic, the material fitting securely into place. His eyes, though still composed on the surface, deepened in intensity and became more focused. Your ex was stalking you. Lurking, like a predator. His jaw clenched, and his disbelief at the situation melted away, replaced by a new resolve.
I couldn’t save her. But I can save you.
The idea of this man, your ex, still in your life filled him with an odd sense of purpose. He didn’t care about people, not really, but this was different. You had painted nails. You had suffered violence. You reminded him of her.
He would make sure nobody hurt you ever again. Starting with that ex-boyfriend of yours. Yes, he would definitely be dealt with. Permanently.
And going further, from now on, you would become his patient. Dr. Gardner had served his purpose, but Brian knew, with a chilling certainty, that you wouldn’t be seeing him again. Not if he could help it.
He forced a sympathetic chuckle, masking his true emotions as he continued to work on your prosthetic with his usual precision. “That sounds... frustrating. You’d think he’d get the hint by now.”
“Right?” You rolled your eyes playfully, trying to dispel the tension that came with the subject of your ex. “But I’m fine, really. It’s just one of those things I have to deal with.”
Brian simply nodded, his hands moving delicately, ensuring the fit was perfect, but his thoughts were miles away, plotting, considering what exactly he needed to do next to make sure you'd no longer have to do deal with it.
He was nothing if not methodical, his mind working like a finely-tuned machine, always planning, always calculating. When it came to taking care of your ex-boyfriend and Dr. Gardner, he would need to use two different approaches, that much was obvious.
Your ex-boyfriend would be the one to pay in blood. The man had been the catalyst for your suffering, the reason you had been put in a situation that mirrored Brian's own mother's gruesome death.
So your ex wasn't going to just disappear, that would be too easy, too nice. Instead, the bastard was going to feel every ounce of pain, every bit of terror that Brian imagined his mother and you had felt. He’d stalk him for days and learn his habits, figure out where he was most vulnerable. And when he’d finally make his move, it would be somewhere isolated, somewhere he could really take his time.
The act itself would neither be quick nor clean. Instead, Brian would make it messy, and visceral. He'd use tools that mimicked the chainsaw that had haunted both him and you. While he wouldn’t use an actual chainsaw, far too noisy and difficult to control, he would choose something just as violent, perhaps a hacksaw or an axe. He would let your ex feel the terror, hear the whir of a blade, and realize that his time was up.
In his twisted mind, Brian believed that you deserved closure. You needed to know that your ex-boyfriend was truly dead. Maybe you wouldn’t know it had been Brian, but you’d know your ex had been taken care of — brutally, and publicly even. The police would find the body, bloodied, hacked apart, left in some abandoned place where no one could escape the horror of the scene. It wouldn’t be a neat kill; it would be a spectacle. The kind that left a permanent mark in the mind of anyone who saw it.
It would be justice for you, and revenge for his mother.
It would be perfect.
You were going to feel safe, knowing that the danger had been wiped out, grateful that the threat was gone.
Dr. Gardner, on the other hand, required a different touch. Brian held no ill feelings toward him, the man simply needed to die out of necessity. But the doctor was a respected figure in your life, and if he simply vanished or died a violent death, you might grieve too hard, or worse, become suspicious. So Dr. Gardner's exit had to be quiet, peaceful, and leave no room for doubt. Brian could easily make it look natural, the man was already old enough that it wouldn’t raise too many questions if he were to die in his sleep anyway.
He'd slip a small dose of potassium chloride into Dr. Gardner’s food or drink, undetectable and mimicking the signs of a natural heart attack. The man would feel a sudden, overwhelming pressure in his chest, his heart seizing painfully — but he wouldn’t be able to cry for help. And in mere minutes, it would be over, and the man would be found peacefully in his bed or his office chair, just another old guy who’d met his end from "natural causes". No one would question it, and you might feel sad for a little while, but definitely not suspicious.
And Brian knew grief over a natural death tended to fade more quickly.
Then you’d return to the clinic in need of further adjustments to your prosthetic in the future, and who would be there for you? Him. The friendly, capable replacement who’d been there all along.
As Brian thought about it all, his hands checked the fit of your prosthetic, his fingers running along the edges.
“Now, hopefully this adjustment will work perfectly for you,” he then said, his voice calm as ever. “If you need anything else, any follow-up, you can come back to me and I’ll take care of it.”
You nodded — still oblivious to anything going on underneath his professional exterior — as you softly smiled up at him and stood up, testing your leg and finding it already fitting better. “Thanks, Dr. Cooper, it’s great, and that’s really nice of you. I’ll be sure to come back if I need any more work done.”
Brian smiled back, but it was colder this time, more possessive. “Rudy, please. And I’ll be here, whenever you need me.”
As you left the clinic, you felt relieved, glad that everything had gone well despite the fact that Dr. Gardner wasn't the one doing your adjustment. Dr. Cooper, or Rudy, had been kind, careful, and understanding. He was a really nice man. Hopefully you'd have him as your prosthetist again if Dr. Gardner ever fell sick another time.
Watching you walk away, Brian was certain of your return. He intended to mold your future so that you would always come back to him.
You may not know it yet, but he was going to ensure you’d never need anyone else, ever again.
ur previously fiction was BOMBBBBBBBB♡♡, could u write brian moser x hospital patient reader that reminds him of laura? like in the sense that reader so happens to have her nails painted the same way
Hello there dear, I initially debated with myself about the direction I wanted to take this, but I finally managed to make a decision and just now finished writing it!💞
It'll be posted in a bit, hopefully you'll like it! Thank you for requesting and feel free to do so again at any time!🙏🏼
Welcome to my Masterlist for all things I've created regarding the Netflix TV Show “The Society”! I will try to keep this as updated as possible.
Click here for my Main Masterlist
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× Contents ×
Last Updated On
Requests
🌶️ ☔ 💥 🧸 🕳️ 🎭 🔞
Writing Masterlist
Gifs Masterlist
Tag List
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1. Last Updated On
September 21, 2024
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2. Requests
Requests are OPEN for the following characters:
Campbell Eliot
Harry Bingham
Grizz Visser
Luke Holbrook
Clark Beecher
Jason Alvarado
You can try to request something for characters that aren't on this list as well, however it's much less likely that I'll actually write for them.
On how or what to request, please check out My Main Post About Requesting!
3. 🌶️ ☔ 💥 🧸 🕳️ 🎭 🔞
I use one or more of the 7 emojis to give you a better understanding of what the content involves. Here's a guide on what they mean:
🌶️ ➞ Smut, usually contains sexual content and/or physical intimacy
☔ ➞ Angst, usually contains emotional pain of some kind and/or evokes sadness/melancholy
💥 ➞ Action/Violence, usually contains fast-paced events and/or physical conflict, often with graphic descriptions
🧸 ➞ Fluff, usually contains feel-good situations with a focus on comfort and/or affection
🕳️ ➞ Dark Stuff, usually contains heavy, disturbing, and potentially triggering topics (Mental illness, (sexual) abuse, trauma, etc.)
🎭 ➞ Drama, usually contains intense emotional shifts and/or emotional turmoil, with moments of tension, conflict, and/or resolution
🔞 ➞ Mature Content, usually contains explicit content that is not suitable for minors (Graphic sexual scenes, extreme violence, mature themes, and/or other adult-oriented material)
‼️ These emojis are only to give you a quick overview, please still read the warnings on each story to make sure they're suitable for you ‼️
4. Writing Masterlist
⊢ The Guard ⊣
Clark Beecher:
✒ Caught Between The Tides
☔ 🎭 (🧸)
Summary: The guard unexpectedly joins forces with Campbell to overthrow Allie’s leadership, leaving you grappling with betrayal and confusion. After the arrest, you do your best to avoid Clark, struggling to reconcile his actions with the loving boyfriend you once knew.
Warnings: Verbal Threats, Descriptions of Emotional Distress, Angst, Hurt Some Comfort, I think that's all
Word Count: 3.876
⊸
Grizz Visser:
✒ Nothing Yet
⊸
Luke Holbrook:
✒ Nothing yet
⊸
Jason Alvarado:
✒ Nothing yet
⊸
⊢ Others ⊣
Campbell Eliot:
✒ Nothing yet
⊸
Harry Bingham:
✒ Nothing yet
5. Gifs Masterlist
Season 1, Episode 10 — How It Happens
⏯ The Coup // The Arrest
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3
Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6
6. Tag List
I don't have a tag list yet. If you want to be tagged in the future for anything specifically (all writings for a specific character for example), feel free to let me know and I'll create one and put you on it!🙏🏼💞
Warnings: Verbal Threats, Descriptions of Emotional Distress, Angst, Hurt Some Comfort, I think that's all
Fandom: The Society (Netflix TV Show)
Pairing: Clark Beecher x Reader
Request by: Anon
Summary: The guard unexpectedly joins forces with Campbell to overthrow Allie’s leadership, leaving you grappling with betrayal and confusion. After the arrest, you do your best to avoid Clark, struggling to reconcile his actions with the loving boyfriend you once knew.
Word Count: 3.876
My Masterlist
A/N: Once again, I struggled. Once again, I prevailed. I hope the struggling part is not too noticable.😅 I enjoyed writing this though, so hopefully you guys will enjoy reading it as well!💞 Reposts/Comments with feedback would very much be appreciated!!🙏🏼 Feel free to request more, I may already have a bunch of them and it might take me some time to get to them, but I love the inspiration and it motivates me to know that someone wants me to write.💙
The air inside Allie’s house felt stifling. The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. You had watched in confusion as Clark, your boyfriend, along with Jason and Luke had stormed in and declared that Allie and Will were under arrest. You hadn’t expected this, Clark hadn’t mentioned anything.
But now here you were, standing next to him, trying to make sense of his words.
Allie’s eyebrows shot up, disbelief coloring her tone. “Is that a joke?”
You looked at Clark again, searching his face for something, anything that would let you know this wasn’t real, but he just stared back at her, unflinching, not saying anything.
“I’m under arrest.” Allie clarified slowly, giving pause for someone to interject, but nobody did. “For what?” Her voice was tight with shock.
Luke stepped forward, clearly uncomfortable as he spoke. “For trying to steal the election.”
Your mind went blank for a split second. Steal the election? The accusation seemed absurd, like something Campbell might have concocted, not Luke. You looked at him, waiting for some sign that he didn’t really mean it and that this was just a mistake. But his words hung heavy in the air, and all you could feel was a sudden surge of anger and bewilderment.
How could they possibly believe this?
You glanced at Clark, desperately hoping that he didn’t agree, that he wasn’t a part of this madness. But the look on his face, hard and resolute, told you everything you didn’t want to know.
Allie's gaze flitted between the group, and you could see her hurt about being stabbed in the back by her own guard in her eyes, her voice incredulous as she spoke. “You know that’s not true.”
Luke couldn’t even meet her gaze, his eyes shifting away, and for a few seconds nobody said anything. Only Clark and Jason exchanged a few glances, something heavy and unspoken passing between them that unsettled you.
Coming to some kind of agreement, both of them moved. Clark walked around the counter toward Allie, and Jason mirrored his movement, heading for Will. Your stomach turned as you watched it unfold, panic rising in your chest. This wasn’t just some disagreement. This was real.
Fear bubbled up in you, and before you could stop yourself you moved from where you had been standing and went to your boyfriends side, reaching out for him, “Clark.” Your voice was weak and shaky, but you couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. Clark didn’t even look at you though, shaking off your loose grip and continuing to push Allie back, acting like he hadn't heard you.
Your heart broke a little at that moment.
Will attempted to step toward Jason, his voice rattled, as he started: “You don’t have the authority-”
Immediately stopping him with a hand to his chest, Jason's tone was almost mocking as he retorted: “Seems like we do, though. Since we’re doing it.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, couldn’t believe that Clark was going along with this. Your mind raced as Jason pushed Will back, forcing him into a corner, and Clark did the same with Allie, backing her up with silent determination. The room felt smaller with every passing second, suffocating in its tension, until Gordie, who had been standing quietly in the background, stepped forward, his face filled with frustration.
“Why are you really doing this?” he asked, clearly upset. “Allie’s done everything in her power since she stepped up to make the best of the situation we’re in. What more could you possibly want?”
The question hung in the air, cutting through the noise in your head. Gordie’s words echoed what you were thinking, what you wanted to scream at them. Allie had worked tirelessly, had made the hard decisions no one else had the courage to. What were they hoping to achieve by doing this?
But before anyone could answer, Campbell sauntered into the room, his presence immediately commanding attention, and everything seemed to click into place.
“Allie’s been making mistakes,” Campbell said, addressing Gordie's words, his voice smooth, almost persuasive. “We need real leadership.”
Of course. It’s him. It had always been him, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. It all made sense now — the arrest, the sudden accusations. This wasn’t about the election or anything she had done at all.
This was about Campbell, manipulating everyone to seize control.
Grievances had apparently festered long enough and he had only waited for the perfect moment to step up and take over under the pretense of being nothing more than a concerned citizen. So now the guard, who had once stood by Allie’s leadership, were swayed.
But you weren’t. You could see the manipulation behind Campbell’s calculating eyes as he walked around the place like he owned it, the danger that radiated from him. Your chest tightened with a mixture of dread and anger. How could Clark not see it? How could none of the guard see that Campbell was feeding on their doubts and insecurities? That Campbell’s idea of leadership was terrifying? Power, pure and ruthless, with no room for compassion or fairness.
Allie, who you definitely had to commend for her courage, stood defiantly, and stared directly at Campbell. She obviously also realized that he had manipulated the entire situation, so she was understandingly pale, but otherwise as put-together as one could be in her position.
It irritated you that she had to play pretend like this in the first place, after everything she'd done to keep this town from falling apart. It made your blood boil.
You couldn’t just stand by any longer.
“And I suppose that real leadership just conveniently includes your best friend who listens to you like a dog these days?” you asked, stepping forward and crossing your arms, your voice sharp as it cut through the unease in the room.
You could see Clark stiffening out of the corner of your eyes, shooting you a warning look as everybody turned to you, but you ignored him, solely focussing on Campbell, whose smirk faltered slightly, his eyes narrowing as he gave you his full attention. The room seemed to still, everyone watching the shift in his demeanor. You could feel the tension rise as you met his gaze, but you refused to back down.
He raised an eyebrow, his voice now colder and sharper. “Oh, you’re quick, aren’t you?” he said, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. His smile returned, but this time it didn’t reach his eyes. “Clark’s girlfriend, right? Always hanging around, thinking you understand what’s going on.”
The way he said it had you clenching your fists at your sides and struggling to keep your facial expression neutral in an attempt to hide that his comment had gotten under your skin.
You didn't let it stop you from retaliating though.
“I understand that this isn’t right.” You insisted, refusing to stop, even though you probably should. You couldn’t just let Campbell take over without at least pushing back, without trying to make the guard see the truth.
Campbell glanced at Clark — who shifted beside you, his discomfort palpable — for a brief second, before looking back to you.
“You see, this isn’t about what's ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ though.” Campbell stepped towards you again, clearly expecting you to back away, but you responded by holding your ground and raising your chin at him. Noticing your defiance, his smile grew thin and predatory as he spoke his next words. “It’s about making the tough calls, about keeping this place running, no matter what. Allie has had her chance at that, and she’s failed. So right now, the only person who can correct her mistakes... is me.”
The nonchalance in his voice sent a chill down your spine.
He wasn't just talking about leadership. He was talking about power, the kind that meant no one could stop him once he had it.
“That’s not true at all! Allie's been doing what no one else was willing to do. You don’t get to rewrite the story just because you want control, because you like the privilege of being able to do whatever you want. You’re not just taking over by doing this, you’re also actively trampling on everything that has been accomplished so far! These people — Allie, Will — they’ve sacrificed so much to make all of this work, and you'll ruin it just because you're on some kind of power-trip!”
The words barely left your lips when Clark already moved toward you, his hand reaching for yours, but you snatched it away without even looking at him, your anger too fierce, too raw. You weren’t going to let this happen without a fight.
Campbell’s smile had faded at your words, replaced by a chilling and dangerous look. He leaned towards you now, until you were almost nose-to-nose, and you could feel the suspense in the room grow, everybody glancing between him and you.
“Careful, sweetheart, you should learn your place, before you get yourself really hurt.” Campbell said lowly, but loud enough for everyone to hear. “Because I don’t think Clark will always be able to protect you.”
Clark flinched as if he’d been struck and your stomach twisted, fright and fury both roaring in your chest at the unmistakable threat in Campbells words.
You had never liked him, not from the very beginning. But now, with him standing in your way, you could feel the real weight of the darkness in him that others usually either ignored or were too afraid to face.
Standing firm and refusing to back down, you remained strong, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened under his stare. Your every instinct screamed that you were in dangerous territory and to back away.
But before you could do anything, Clark moved toward you, his face tight with anxiety. “Please,” he muttered under his breath, almost begging. “Don’t do this. Don’t make it worse.”
Your eyes flashed in indignation at that and the urge to shout at him surged through you. “Worse? You’re the one making it worse by going along with this! Can’t you see that he’s using you? All of you?”
You finally and properly looked at your boyfriend, and for a second, you saw the boy you loved. His face was hard, his jaw clenched, and you could tell he was conflicted, torn between the two sides. Yet, he insisted: “Just leave it alone and trust me on this.”
There was a long pause as Clark and you just exchanged looks, tension crackling in the air like static before a storm. Campbell watched the exchange with a bemused expression, clearly enjoying the chaos he had caused.
You clenched your fists in frustration — your nails digging into your palms — and tears threatened to overtake you, but the last thing you wanted was to give Campbell the satisfaction of seeing you cry, so you swallowed them down.
Allie, who had been silent and just watching throughout most of this, stepped forward now.
Her voice was soft but steady as she addressed you.
“Go,” she told you quietly, her face calm. “Please, just go. It’s not worth it.”
For a moment, the room was dead silent, and you could feel Clark’s eyes burning into you. Your heart raced, anger and hurt clashing inside you. You wanted to argue, wanted to stay, every fiber of your being screamed at you to stand up for Allie and what was just. But the look in her eyes — defeated but still holding some hope — stopped you. She was telling you to leave, not because she didn’t want your help, but because she knew how dangerous Campbell was.
Tears stung at your eyes as you looked from her to Clark, torn. There was worry in his eyes, and desperation. But despite it all, he remained standing there with the others, on the wrong side of history.
You had been confused before, torn between loyalty to Clark and your sense of justice, but now you saw the truth clearly.
As much as you wanted to stand your ground, to oppose what was happening, you wouldn't be able to do it alone. It would only make things worse right now, if you stayed.
So with a shaky breath, you nodded and took a step back, sucking in your defiance at once.
“Okay..” You agreed quietly and turned to leave, exchanging one last lingering look with Clark — who had his shoulders hunched up as if ashamed — and shooting a final glare at Campbell — who just smirked, a flicker of something menacing inside his eyes.
Turning on your heel and leaving, you swallowed the knot of sorrow and doubt, heart heavy with the weight of betrayal.
You didn’t have to turn around to know Clark would be torn apart inside, but you knew that even if regretted what he'd done today, it wouldn't change anything.
As the door closed behind you, you heard Campbell’s voice once more, a foreboding undertone. “You need to control your girlfriend in the future, Clark,” he said, “Or I’ll do it for you.”
You didn’t know what hurt more — the fact that Clark didn’t stand up to him, or the fact that you knew, deep down, he was too scared to even try.
As you reached the safety of the outer corridors, you couldn’t shake the image of Clark caught between his loyalty to his friends and his love for you, a pawn in Campbell’s dangerous game.
-
The days after Allie’s arrest were a blur of emotions you couldn't quite sort through — anxiety, irritation, and resentment all twisting together until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. You had expected some sort of change, but not like this. Now, the streets felt heavier, the once-thin veneer of order peeling away under Campbell's influence.
And Clark — Clark had become a ghost, someone you avoided at all costs. Every time you saw him approaching, whether in the cafeteria or on guard duty, you ducked behind corners or would turn and walk the other way. If he managed to get close, Becca or Sam were always there, shielding you from him. You couldn’t bear to face him, not after what he had done.
Becca and Sam had become your refuge, your safe space away from the storm that seemed to be growing worse by the day. Becca would engage you in quiet conversations, Sam’s silent support kept you grounded, and Eden distracted you by being absolutely adorable and a beacon of hope in an otherwise dark situation. In those moments, you almost forgot the betrayal hanging over everything. But every time you caught a glimpse of Clark in the distance, your heart ached all over again.
"He's looking for you," Becca whispered one morning, glancing out the window of the house you were staying in while gently swaying Eden in her arms. You caught sight of Clark across the street, his eyes scanning the area like he was searching for something, someone. You.
Your stomach twisted into knots, and you immediately stood, slipping into the next room. Sam, sitting by the door, shot you a reassuring smile. “We’ll keep him away,” he said softly, putting a hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to.”
It had been like that for days, Clark trying to get close to you, trying to talk, but Sam and Becca always running interference. It wasn’t that they hated him, but they understood the weight of what had happened. They knew you needed space, time to sort out how deeply he'd hurt you.
But Clark was relentless. And one night, it became clear just how far he was willing to go.
You were staying in one of the houses a little further from the square tonight, a place where you thought your boyfriend — if you could still call him that — wouldn’t find you. It was past midnight, the house quiet except for the faint sound of someone breathing in the room next door. You were just drifting off when the doorbell ringing shattered your brief sense of peace. It was late, too late for visitors, and the tired house had already settled, so you decided to just ignore the ringing. Perhaps it wasn’t even Clark, but somebody else, and they would leave.
But then it rang again. And again.
Your heart sank immediately.
You heard shuffling and muffled curses in the other rooms as people stirred from their sleep. Annoyed murmurs filled the hallway, and soon enough, you heard someone make their way to the door and pull it open. A few seconds later, one of the girls you were housing with poked her head into your room, her eyes heavy with tiredness and frustration.
“It’s Clark,” she said quietly and you froze, your pulse quickening. “He says he’s not leaving until you come outside.”
You didn’t move from your spot on the couch, only sitting up and groaning, tension spreading through your body. “I’ll just wait him out. He can’t stay out there all night.”
Your housemate gave you a weary look. “He said he’ll ring the bell until the sun comes up if he has to. You should really talk to him.”
You hesitated, but before you could decide, some of the others in the house came to your door, clearly fed up. “Please, just deal with it,” A boy muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Make sure he doesn’t actually do it.”
“Yeah, sort it out,” another added, already heading back to bed.
Without much choice, you slipped out of bed, putting on a jacket, and headed to the front door. The girl from before gave you a sympathetic nod as you walked past her and as soon as you were outside, she shut the door behind you, leaving you standing alone on the front steps, the chill of the night air biting at your skin, even with your added layer of protection.
Clark was standing on the porch, his arms crossed. When he saw you, his shoulders relaxed a little, though his expression remained unreadable in the dim light.
“Really?” you questioned, crossing your own arms defensively, irritation clear in your voice. “You were honestly going to keep up the whole house?”
Clark shifted, sounding low and desperate. “You left me no choice. You won’t talk to me, you keep avoiding me, Becca and Sam won’t let me near you... I had to do something.”
You swallowed, not sure what to say, the emotions from the past few days swirling in your chest. You didn’t want to cry, but you could feel the pressure building.
“Can we talk?” His tone was soft now, almost pleading.
You stood stiffly in the cool night air, looking anywhere but at him, trying to keep the distance between you both. “I don’t think there’s much to say, Clark. You-” Your voice caught in your throat. “You betrayed me. You betrayed all of us.”
He took a step closer, but you instinctively stepped back, your arms tightening around yourself. His face fell, but he didn’t move again.
“I can explain,” he started, but you cut him off.
“Explain what? That you stood by while Campbell took over? That you just gave up everything we were building here?” Your voice was sharper than you intended, but everything that had been festering inside you was finally bubbling over.
Clark flinched, and for a second, he looked like the boy you fell in love with — the one who was always trying to do the right thing, who had held you close in the darkness, who had comforted you when the world had changed overnight. “Campbell manipulated us,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to, but... we thought it was for the best. Allie wasn’t-”
“I don’t care about Allie!” you interrupted him, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, tone rising in volume. “I care about what you’ve done. You helped Campbell take over, you let him take control of everything we've so painstakingly rebuilt in this town!”
Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision. “I’m scared, Clark. Scared of what he’ll do now that he has all this power. He’s dangerous, you know that, you saw what he did, and yet, you’re with him and didn’t stop him, not even when he threatened me. I-” Your voice cracked, and the tears you had tried so hard to hold back finally spilled over. “I don’t even know who you are anymore. You’re supposed to protect people, not let someone like Campbell run everything.”
Clark’s face twisted in pain as he watched you cry, his shoulders sagging under the burden of your words. “I know I’ve messed up. But I didn’t know what to do. Everyone was turning on Allie, and Campbell… he’s dangerous, you’re right. But if I hadn’t gone along with him, he might’ve done something worse.”
His eyes softened then and he hesitated for a second before admitting: “And I-.. I think I was scared of what he could do to all of us if we didn’t go along with what he said. And… I was scared that you were going to get hurt, too.”
You sobbed as the weight of everything came crashing down. You felt so small in that moment, so powerless in a world that was spinning out of control.
“Please… Can I-.. Can I hold you?” Clark asked and when you looked up at him, you saw him reaching out to you tentatively. “I just-... I need to know you’re okay.”
You hesitated and didn't say anything for a moment, the storm of emotions in your chest making it hard to think straight. But right now, the biggest part of you just wanted to feel safe again. So, slowly, you gave a small nod.
Clark stepped forward immediately and gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. His embrace was strong, familiar, and for a few seconds, you let yourself sink into it, your cheek pressed against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat grounding you, the warmth of his body calming the storm inside you just a little.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “I know I hurt you. I know I screwed up. But I’m not going to let Campbell hurt you. I swear, I won’t let it get that far. You’re the most important thing to me, and I’ll protect you.”
You closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you, though part of you still felt unsure. You wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that he could protect you from Campbell’s growing influence. But after everything that had happened, trust was fragile.
Clark’s grip tightened slightly, as if he could feel your hesitation. “I swear I'll find a way to fix this,” he promised, his voice steady now. “I don’t know how yet, but I will do whatever it takes. You don’t have to be afraid. Not of him, not of anything. I won’t let him touch you.”
You stood there in the cold, wrapped in Clark’s arms, the night stretching on around you, and for the first time in days, the fear inside you began to loosen, just a little bit.
