#like... anyone of you could be its next victim- sort of thing

[girl-bateman]

Today on the subway, a wasp sat down on my upper-lip and because this is Sweden, no one else acknowledged my predicament and I felt super embarrassed about the whole thing 😍👍

[gummy-cat-writes]

save it for a rainy day | spencer reid x bau! fem!reader

synopsis: while on a case in Seattle during a particularly rainy week, the team learns that you've never been kissed, a fact Spencer didn't realise would both him so much

content warnings: criminal minds typical themes (discussions/descriptions of violence, injuries, death, trauma and generally not great things) please read at your own risk!! also minor spoilers for s7 ep19 (heathridge manor)

ingredients: mostly fluff, she fell first, he fell harder, I got carried away so it's basically a casefic, inaccurate depictions of the US/how the FBI works (sorry I'm not American), a bunch of random facts since its literally Spencer's main love language (cannot guarantee the legitimacy of said facts they were from singular google searches), limited use of Y/N (I tried) and I'm not entirely convinced the plot exists sorryyy

word count: 6k (like I said I got carried away whoops)

a/n: eek this is my very first attempt at posting my writing on tumblr, and also my very first x reader fic! (finally living up to my username lol) I got a bit carried away with this and it is just a tad self indulgent but I hope you all enjoy and if I missed any content warnings please let me know!!

Spencer Reid couldn’t stand the rain. His hair was hard enough to keep presentable when dry, but being wet it made him look like a soggy cat. Much to his dismay, the current case happened to be in Seattle, Washington, right in the middle of their rainy season – perfect for an unsub who liked to drown their victims in rainwater.

Spencer had only just stepped out of the jet when he felt the light downpour beginning to dampen his head and shoulders, squinting up at the sky with a disgruntled look.

“I hate the rain,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, thankful he’d long since transitioned back to contacts, as wearing glasses in this weather would have made the trip entirely more frustrating.

“Aw, come on,” a voice chirped up beside him. “It’s not that bad,” You were much more prepared than him, already opening a brightly patterned umbrella as you descended the plane steps. “It smells so nice.���

Without being asked, you lifted the umbrella higher so he could duck beneath it. The two of you began the walk across the tarmac, following Hotch and Rossi, with Emily, JJ and Morgan bringing up the rear.

“The term for the smell we usually associate with rain is actually called petrichor,” Spencer said, unable to help himself. “The word was coined in 1964 by Australian scientists, it’s a mixture of water and other compounds like ozone, geosmin and plant oils.” He wrinkled his nose, the aforementioned smell filling the morning air. “It gets particularly strong during a downpour like this.”

You chuckled. “Well, I think it’s romantic. I always imagined my first kiss would be in the rain.”

Spencer ducked as you closed the umbrella, arriving at the terminal entrance. He watched as you held back, letting the rain fall on your face for a moment.

“Was it?” he asked.

“Hm?” You blinked, before shrugging. “Oh, I wouldn’t know,” you said, in a surprisingly casual tone. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

This statement somehow caused Spencer’s stomach to flip, and he found himself unable to form words.

Emily, who’d overheard the tail-end of the conversation, did not have the same issue.

“You’ve never been kissed?” she said incredulously, already grinning at your now somewhat sheepish expression.

“I’ve sort of being saving it,” you admitted, smiling nervously. “I just think that being kissed in the rain is so romantic.”

“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Emily responded fondly. “Wait ‘til Penelope hears about this.”

You groaned, your cheeks reddening. By now, JJ and Morgan had caught up, the former eyeing Spencer with concern.

“Spence, you okay?”

Caught off guard, Spencer’s next words came out a little harsher than intended.

“I don’t care if it’s romantic,” he snapped. “I still hate the rain.”

Spencer had no clue what was going on. It had been ages since your conversation on the tarmac, but your words kept replaying in his head. It was one of the few times he loathed his eidetic memory, as the visual of you standing calmly in the rain, water dripping down your face – more specifically your mouth – swam in his brain whenever he closed his eyes.

“-and Reid can share with her.” The sound of his name broke him from his reverie, and he looked up frowning. The team had dropped by their hotel to freshen up before heading to the precinct, and were discussing who would be sharing a room together. Typically, they got four rooms, with six of them pairing up and one person getting a room to themselves. JJ was looking at Spencer, that concerned look on her face again.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked.

Spencer’s brain rebooted awfully slow. “I- what?”

“Room shares,” Emily cut in, looking amused as the others chuckled. “You’re good to share a room with Y/N, right?”

All Spencer could do was glance between his team, his eyes landing on Morgan.

“What about Morgan?” he asked. Something about sharing a room with you made his chest tighten uncomfortably.

Morgan laughed. “Sorry, pretty boy, it’s my turn in the solo room.”

“I don’t mind,” you piped up, glancing at Spencer with a friendly smile. “Spencer?”

“Do you kids need to do rock-paper-scissors to decide?” Rossi’s tone was exasperated. “Me and Hotch, Emily and JJ, Reid and L/N and Morgan on his own. Simple.”

There was little more arguing Spencer could do without being obvious, so he reluctantly followed you down the hall to your room. Why on Earth was such a short, insignificant conversation making him feel like this? He’d shared rooms with you on cases before, what was so different now?

You unlocked the door to the room, completely unaware of his inner turmoil. For a moment, Spencer could forget it too, watching as you examined the room, enthusiastically dropping flat onto one of the twin beds.

“This room’s a lot like the one we shared in Massachusetts,” you mused absentmindedly. “The layout’s the same. I like the old-fashioned look.”

“You know, the oldest hotel in the world is the Nishiyama Onsen Keiunkan,” Spencer said. “It’s a ryokan, which is a traditional Japanese-style inn, and was first opened in 707 AD.”

You smiled. “Oh, yeah?” Sitting up, you looked up at him with a genuine interest that always made him falter his words.

He cleared his throat. “Um, yeah, it was created by the son of an aide to the 38th Emperor of Japan, Emperor Tenji. Actually, quite a few of the world’s oldest businesses are in Japan. There was a report published by the Bank of Korea that found that 56% of the around 5,500 companies older than 200 years are in Japan.”

“Damn,” you said, still smiling. “Well now I want to go to Japan.”

Spencer chuckled, averting his gaze. His rambles were typically met with disinterest, yet you were one of the few who would properly pay attention. You too were prone to rambling, though your tangents tended to be more anecdotal than random facts. But why now was your attention so nerve-wracking?

“Spencer?” Your voice once again pulled him from his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” you finally asked, frowning at him. “You’ve been really space-y today.”

“I’m fine!” His voice rising in octave definitely didn’t sell it. “I’m just… tired.”

He gave her a tight smile, hoping you’d drop it. He busied himself with setting his go-bag onto his bed.

“Do you think I’m weird?”

That caught his tension.

“What?” Spencer stared at you, concern that you’d ever think that overruling his current dilemma. “What are you talking about, you’re not weird you’re- you’re you-” He cut himself off as you laughed.

“Spencer, I’m in my 20s and I haven’t had my first kiss. That’s pretty weird, isn’t it?”

He blinked. “I didn’t have my first kiss until my 20s.” he pointed out.

“Yeah, because you were, like, twelve in your senior year. It would have been illegal to kiss you,” you said, amused. “I think I’ve only ever held hands with one person all through school.” Your smile faded a little as you fidgeted with your sleeve. “I guess I always expected dating and romance would just happen, like in the movies, and it never really did.”

“Well, in the US, the average age of the first kiss is fifteen, but even that varies between regions.” Upon realising his comment wasn’t helpful in the slightest, he back-tracked. “But everyone has their own timeline. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

You sighed, standing up. He could tell now that despite your casual tone on the tarmac earlier, it really did seem to bother you. Something about the melancholy look on your face stung something deep in him.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you said softly. “I’m going to go shower.”

The Seattle Police Precinct was a buzz of activity – the media had been all over the murders since a sixth body had been discovered, which was why the BAU had been called in. As Penelope had explained in the briefing, so far the unsub had killed six women over the course of two and half months. All six victims were women in their 40s, who all went missing a few days before their bodies were found in empty lots, significant amounts of rainwater in their lungs. With no other injuries on the bodies, it had been difficult to determine a clear motive.

Upon arriving at the precinct, Hotch set about delegating tasks so the team could build a profile. Spencer was strangely relieved when Hotch sent him to the medical examiner with Morgan. It wasn’t that he didn’t like working with you, but your comments had stuck with him more than they should for someone he saw as a friend, and he knew the longer he spent around you, he’d likely make a fool of himself.

The ME went over the autopsies with them, noting some of the interesting findings.

“So, it appears the victims spent a significant amount of time in water before they died,” she said, frowning at her clipboard.

“How can you tell?” Morgan asked.

She walked over to one of the tables, lifting the sheet covering the most recent victim, pointing at her arm. “See how the skin is thickened here, and the sores? She must have been in the water for good while, for the skin to do this. They all were.” The ME crossed the room to pick up a tray, bringing it over to show the two men a cutting of fabric. “The clothes they were wearing were beginning to mould, which can happen with water damage. These women were fully submerged for days before they died.”

“And you can confirm they died from drowning?”

“It’s quite difficult to determine if drowning is the official cause of death,” The ME replied. “But given how much water was in their stomachs and lungs, and the foam present, I’d say so.” She grimaced as she read through her notes. “It certainly wasn’t done quickly either.”

Morgan frowned. “This is similar to the case in Oregon, at that manor.” He paused, glancing at Spencer. “Reid,” he nudged him. “You good?”

“What? Oh- yeah, I’m fine.” Spencer stuttered, very aware he wasn’t convincing his colleague in the slightest. “The case in Oregon?”

“The way the victims were submerged in water, it’s similar. Do you think this unsub is also torturing?”

Spencer forced himself to focus, frowning at the body in front of him. “It seems it serves as both a way to torture, and to kill. The Oregon ones were killed with nicotine poisoning.”

“I also noticed something else,” the ME spoke up. “I found bits of rust stuck to their hands.” She moved the sheet, turning the victim’s hand over. Flakes of deep orange speckled the skin of her palm, which was reddened and raw. “I think they were holding onto something for quite a while, something metal.”

“Didn’t the Oregon unsub submerge the girls in a well?” Morgan said. “Perhaps we’re dealing with a copy-cat.”

Spencer shook his head. “Those details weren’t released to the press, it can’t be. Besides, if they had, they would have the grazes on their bodies from the rocks of the well, wouldn’t they?”

The ME nodded. “Aside from the hands, they’re relatively unharmed. That, and a bruise to the back of the head.”

Morgan nodded, putting the pieces together. “So the unsub hits them over the head to stun them, takes them somewhere and keeps them in a body of rainwater until they’ve drowned and dumps them in lots?”

“He’s gotten better, clearly,” the ME mentioned. “The first two victims had multiple wounds to the head, whereas the more recent ones only had one.”

“So,” Morgan said, seemingly talking to himself. “How long until he attacks again?”

Spencer leaned against the car, trying to read while Morgan phoned Penelope to update her on the unsub’s MO. Emphasis on trying. He’d been re-reading the same page over and over, and when one can read at his speed, it got repetitive rather quickly.

“- great job, baby girl, keep it up,” Morgan was saying as he returned to the car, putting his phone away. “So, Penelope is going to look into places where the unsub might have been able to keep the women, but that could be anywhere-”

“Ow!” Spencer looked up, offended, having just been flicked in the forehead. “What was that for?”

“You’ve been acting weird all day,” Morgan stated, eyeing the younger man. “More than your usual weird. What’s going on?”

Spencer rolled his eyes, looking back down at his book, only for it to be snatched from his hands. “Hey, give that back-”

“Not until you tell me what’s up,” Morgan’s voice was serious, using a similar tone Spencer had heard him use with his sisters. Firm but compassionate. “It’s pretty obvious something is wrong.”

Spencer’s shoulders sagged, and he let out a huff of frustration. “If I knew, I would tell you,” he grumbled, hesitating before he continued. “I- Y/N told me this morning that she’s never been kissed, and I can’t stop thinking about it-”

He was interrupted by Morgan’s hearty laughter. “That’s it?”

Spencer stumbled over his words, his face flushed. “It doesn’t mean anything, I’m not-”

“Pretty boy has a crush~” Morgan teased, the smirk on his face not shifting, even as Spencer smacked his forearm to get him to shut up.

“What? No, that’s ridiculous!” he snapped. “She’s my co-worker, my friend! I just-”

“Realised how much you’d like to be the one to kiss her?” Morgan finished for him, getting into the car. “Did you only just come to this conclusion today?”

Spencer scowled, climbing into the passenger seat. “What are you talking about?”

“Reid, you’ve been ogling her since she first started working here,” Morgan pointed out. “I know we’re not meant to profile each other, but it’s textbook-”

“You have no clue what you’re talking about! We’re just friends!”

Morgan chuckled. “If you say so. But, if you ask me, I don’t think she’d be too opposed if you asked her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Infuriatingly, Morgan chose then to finally fall silent.

You couldn’t understand what you’d done wrong. It had been two days since the team had arrived in Seattle, and Spencer was 100% avoiding you. He averted his eyes every time you spoke, made excuses to leave the room when it was just the two of you together, and barely spoke when you finally returned to the hotel to rest. Surely he wasn’t put off by what you’d told him at the airport?

When you’d said you were saving your first kiss to be in the rain, you were only half lying. A kiss in the rain would be romantic, but you desperately wanted it to be with him. It had been a little over a year since you joined the BAU, and you’d spent practically every day since then head over heels for Dr. Spencer Reid.

Who wouldn’t? He was your type in every way – nerdy, awkward and ridiculously good-looking.

So far, you’d managed to keep it hidden from most of the team, save for Emily, JJ and Penelope. Curse those women for being so good at their jobs. And curse them for teasing you every chance they got.

“What are you looking at?”

Speak of the devil, and doth shall appear, looking exactly like Emily Prentiss. She set a coffee down next to you, choosing to lean against the table rather than sit, giving you a knowing grin.

You quickly looked back down at the files in your hands. “Nothing,” you mumbled, convincing no one.

“Honestly, you are lucky the boy genius is the most oblivious man in the world,” Emily said, frowning at Spencer, who was discussing the case with Rossi and JJ. “I’m surprised he hasn’t caught on yet.”

“Would you keep it down?” you hissed, swatting her with a file. “I don’t want the entire precinct to know.”

She cackled, nudging you with her leg. “I figured you could do with a push in the right direction,” Leaning down, she lowered her voice. “That direction being a certain doctor’s bed-”

“Emily!”

“I’m just putting it out there, you should go talk to him,” She stood up to avoid any more file assaults. “You can’t avoid him forever.”

Fortunately, the lecture was interrupted by Hotch walking into the room, a particularly stormy look on his face. “There’s been another kidnapping,” he said. “Let’s go.”

The team bundled themselves into the cars, heading to east Seattle, where a staggering amount of police cars and media vans were already gathered. Breezing past the officers and into the house, you followed JJ and Emily into the bedroom.

The previous women had all gone missing while at home, all living alone, or when their partners weren’t home. This time, it was clear the victim’s partner had been home. He was laying on the bed, blood splattered everywhere and a pillow covering what was sure to be fatal head wounds.

“Monique Johnson is currently missing, the neighbour found this after hearing their dog barking inside.” Hotch said as he followed in behind you.

“Clearly the unsub didn’t expect the boyfriend to be home,” JJ muttered. “This is overkill, he lost his cool.”

Hotch nodded. “We need to give the profile.”

“We believe the unsub is a white man, likely in his 30s. He’s not very noticeable, blends in with the crowd,” Hotch began, arms crossed as he presents the profile to the Seattle Police. “Given how he manages to break into the victims’ houses with little to no trouble, it’s possible he has experience with burglary, and may have a criminal record.”

“The victims all resemble each other physically, and in personality,” JJ continued. “It’s possible the unsub is viewing these women as surrogates for someone in his life, possible a sister, or a mother, given the lack of sexual components to the crimes.”

“We’ve classified him as a control-oriented killer,” Morgan picked up. “The method in which he drowns his victims over a gruelling multiple days is his way of being in control. Though he is very intelligent, and manages to limit any physical evidence left behind on the victims, he clearly struggles when plans don’t go his way.”

“The most recent victim is Darius Bowers, 47,” you spoke up. “He was killed during the abduction of his girlfriend, Monique Johnson. This is the first time the unsub has killed a man, and it is very clear it wasn’t meant to happen.”

“He knows we are getting close, which means we only have a limited time to find Monique alive.” Hotch concluded.

As the officers dispersed, you breathed a sigh of relief. Delivering profiles was nerve-wracking, but it was good to know you were on the right track.

“What are you- hey!” Spencer’s voice shot up an octave as you grabbed him by the sleeve, all but dragging him into a nearby hallway. He looked as if he were caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

“Have I done something wrong?” you asked, trying and failing not to sound desperate. The reality was the distance hurt, more than you could admit. “You’ve been avoiding me this entire case, and it’s clear I’ve upset you, which is the last thing I wanted, so would you please just spit it out?”

Spencer stood there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, utterly speechless. Then, slowly, a deep red flush crept up his neck and he cleared his throat.

“I- I don’t know.”

It was rare to hear that phrase from him.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s- You haven’t done anything wrong, I just-” He was stuttering, eyes directed towards some far off thing as he struggled to explain himself. “I think I’ve come to realise how much you care about me, and-”

“Guys, it’s Penelope.” JJ said sharply, peeking around the wall.

You let out a huff of frustration, storming after the blonde woman, leaving Spencer nonplussed and red in the face.

The team huddled around the table, where Morgan’s phone on speaker in the middle, playing the upbeat voice of Penelope Garcia.

“Alright my lovelies, so I have been fighting tooth and nail with these files, trying to find a link between the victims and let me just say, it would be easier to get Hotch to smile, it is difficult-”

“Garcia-” Hotch’s tone was warning.

“Sorry sir,” she quickly added. “I think I’ve found something. Weeks before Janet Burgess, the second victim, went missing, she payed a fee for a lawn service through Green City Lawn Care-”

“Isn’t that where Monique Johnson works?” Spencer piped up, frowning.

“Why indeed, boy genius, and get this, Danna Howell, the fifth victim also had her lawn mowed by the same company!” Before anyone else could interrupt, she continued. “Now, you’re probably thinking that it’s just a coincidence, but the universe is rarely so lazy, so, I dug a bit further and found out that all the victims at some point used the service in the past six months, and three of them left quite scathing reviews of the company.”

“That’s great, baby girl, but we both know you can do better,” Morgan teased.

“I was getting there, chocolate thunder-”

“Garcia-” Hotch warned, a little more impatient.

“Sorry sir, so I went through employee records and just seven months ago they hired a Tristan Murray, who has only just completed 15 years in prison.”

“What for?” Emily asked.

“I’m not-so glad you asked,” Penelope said, her cheery voice becoming more grim. “Burglary that ended with assault of the homeowner.” A rapid sound of typing was heard. “Looks like he had quite a nasty childhood, his biological mother was only 16 when she had him, and put him into the foster system. He got with the wrong crowd, spent time in and out of juvy, and oh god-”

“What?”

“Apparently he was arrested for the burglary charges when police were called to a cafe for a verbal altercation between 19 year old Tristan and his biological mother. Police reports say she came there to meet with him and he wanted to have her in his life but she didn’t, and this made him very angry.”

“Where is his mother now?” Rossi asked.

“Uh, it looks like she is still in Seattle but- oh no- she got a restraining order against him just recently.”

“That’s the trigger,” Hotch said. “Alright, Reid, L/N, Morgan, you take officers to Green City, JJ and Emily head to the mother’s place and Rossi and I’ll go to the unsub’s house.”

Green City Lawn Care was a run-of-the-mill lawn care company, nestled in a mostly suburban part of Seattle. The sky was a deep grey, not yet raining but clearly it would soon, if the rumbling thunder was any indication.

Spencer couldn’t say a word to you, his mind still reeling from your earlier confrontation. As he strapped on his bulletproof vest, he snuck a glance in your direction, and when his heart jumped at the focus in your expression, he felt yet another wave of confusion.

Following his conversation with Morgan, he’d been going over every memory of you in his mind, analysing your behaviour and he’d come to the shocking realisation that maybe his colleague was right.

The shy smiles, a kind tone reserved only for him, flinching when your hands brushed and the occasional flush to your face when you spoke to him. While Spencer knew he was blind to subtle social cues, re-examining all those behaviours were blatant indicators of at least some level of affection beyond a platonic line.

Had he only missed it because he couldn’t imagine you – or anyone, for that matter – seeing him in that light? Or was Morgan also correct about him? Had he been so caught up in watching you he hadn’t actually seen you?

Observing the way you frowned as you buckled the clips of your vest, the variety of your expressions flashed in his mind, your smile, your laugh, your pout, it all burned itself behind his eyes, causing some unknown feeling to bubble in his chest, threatening to burst free.

“Ready to go?” Morgan asked the both of you, adjusting his earpiece.

You nodded, and he turned away to check on the Seattle officers.

Spencer opened his mouth, your name on the tip of his tongue, and as you made to walk towards the building, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist.

The sky above rumbled, and a few drops of rain hit his shoulders, darkening the fabric.

“Listen, I need to-” he began, unsure of exactly how to explain his feelings, but knew he had to tell you, before it consumed him.

You stared up at him, conflict crossing your face as Morgan called the two of you. Giving him a brief smile, you gently pulled your arm from his grip.

“After, alright?” you said.

When did you become able to so easily steal the air from his lungs?

“Reid, come on.” Morgan said, frowning.

The three of you took the lead, crossing the car-park towards Green City Lawn Care as a few officers brought up the rear. Guns ready, Morgan paused outside the front door, directing some officers to go around the back, before nodding at you and then Spencer.

The door chime jingled as Morgan walked in, body tense as he directed the baffled receptionist to head outside, asking him if Murray was in.

“He- He just came by, said he was grabbing supplies-” the man babbled, pale in the face of three armed FBI agents. “What’s this about?”

“Let’s go,” Morgan ordered, ignoring his questions, taking the lead as he jumped over the counter, gun ready as he opened the door to the back supply room.

The three of you filed into a large garage, which held a few lawnmowers, and various other lawn care equipment.

“You two, take that side.”

Spencer followed as you crept around the right side of the garage. There was a clatter of something hitting the floor, before the face of a man poked up between the machinery.

“Tristan Murray?” you called out, pointing your gun at him. “We just need to talk!”

The man didn’t hesitate to bolt, and Spencer’s heartbeat thrummed faster as the two of you chased after him, Morgan a ways behind, radioing for back-up.

Running to the back door of the garage, the man dashed outside, disappearing around a corner. Without a second thought, you ran after him, and Spencer couldn’t stop himself from sprinting after to you. He could see the figure of the man darting down a side street, which lead to what appeared to be an abandoned construction site.

The rain was heavier now, blurring Spencer’s vision as he watched you slide between the gates, running straight into the site. He somewhat clumsily stumbled into the gate, pulling it open, while trying to keep you in his line of vision.

Morgan had caught up by now, the two of them squeezing through the gates into the site. It was clearly meant to be a building, but hadn’t been touched in a while. The pelting rain soaked the dull grey concrete foundation blocks as the two men squinted through the downpour.

“Where’s L/N?” Morgan shouted.

“She went after him, I-” Spencer tried to catch his breath, his lungs burning.

“Murray, this isn’t going to change anything!” Your shout caught their attention, but the following cry of pain chilled Spencer to the core.

Sprinting in the direction of the scuffle, he found Murray on top of you, a metal pipe pressing against your throat.

Before he could really process what he was doing, he grabbed Murray, pulling him off you, managing to take the man by surprise long enough for Morgan to catch up.

“I’ve got him!” he shouted, tackling the man to the ground, silver handcuffs already being clipped around his wrists.

Spencer whipped around to you. You were on your feet, muddy and a bright red streak of blood coating your right arm, running down your hand.

“Spencer, she has to be here!” you said urgently, looking around. “He ran here for a reason, this is where Monique is!”

“Where is she?” Morgan shouted at Murray, hauling him to his feet.

The man bit his tongue, angrily glowering at them all, still attempting to struggle against Morgan.

Your eyes darted from foundation block to sodden wooden pallet. And then you ran off.

“I’ve got this, go after her!” Morgan said.

Spencer was already chasing after you, as you jumped down, following the gutter down some slippery wet grass to where a large storm-water drain sat.

“She’s here!” You shouted, already pulling against the metal bars. Spencer all but stumbled down beside you.

A woman was in the drain, gripping on to the bars with all her strength, the rushing water from the pipes bubbling over her face. “Help me lift this!”

Spencer nodded, grabbing one end of the grate, and the two of you managed to lift it just enough so you could grab Monique’s shirt, dragging her out of the drain.

She was pale and barely conscious, but thankfully coughing up water. You held her shoulder as she heaved, relief clear on your face.

“Your arm-” Spencer said, heart rate slowly ticking down to a normal rhythm.

It was as if you barely noticed the wound. “I cut my arm when he tackled me,” you wheezed. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”

Something about you, covered in mud and blood, your cheeks flushed from the exertion, asking if he was okay, confirmed what he’d been questioning all along.

Despite their victory, the rain didn’t let up by much. Spencer was positive he looked ridiculous, soaked to the bone, but he didn’t care. He walked over to one of the ambulances, where an EMT was stitching up the cut to your arm. It looked pretty nasty, but without the blood dripping everywhere, it was certainly improving.

You glanced up as he approached, giving him a tired smile.

“You okay?” he said, as the EMT finished covering the wound, excusing herself.

“I’ll survive,” you replied, examining the wound. “Might get a cool scar. It’ll make me look more badass.”

Spencer chuckled. The two of you looked around at the scene, blue and red lights reflecting off the rain. Monique was being wheeled away in a stretcher.

“Hotch is going to be so mad at me,” you muttered. “I shouldn’t have gone after him alone.”

Spencer shook his head. “I’ll vouch for you. If you hadn’t, Monique would’ve drowned.”

You nodded, but your expression was bitter. “She’s about to find out her boyfriend is dead,” you mumbled. “I can’t imagine anything worse.”

Standing up, you sighed, tilting your head up as the rain soaked your clothes once more. In contrast to how calm you’d been on the tarmac, your face was melancholy.

“You were right,” you said, dejected despite the success of the case. “The rain isn’t that romantic afterall.”

Spencer looked down at you, then up at the sky. The events of the past few days replayed in his mind, and the revelations that had come with matched the steady rhythm of his heart. He reached out, almost imperceptibly, letting his hand brush against yours.

“It’s beginning to grow on me,” he said softly, glancing back down at you, his lips twitching up into a small smile. “Thanks to you,” he added, and when you linked your hand with his, he tried not to let it show how breathless the action made him.

Your smile was nothing short of beautiful.

As if sensing the troubles were passing, the rain lightened up as the team returned to the precinct to wrap up the case, and then headed to the hotel. Cases like these always seemed to drag on when you’re in the thick of them, but the moment you’re done, you swear no time has passed.

Spencer headed out of the hotel, spotting the brightly coloured umbrella you’d brought before he saw you, standing in the rain. Your go-bag was on the steps of the hotel, sheltered from the light downpour.

He walked up to you, gently tapping the fabric of the umbrella so you’d lift it up for him to duck under. “Is your arm any better?” he asked after a moment.

“It stings a bit,” you replied. “I’m fine, though.” There was something in your voice that told Spencer you weren’t.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but we did good,” he said softly. “You did good.”

“Why do people do things like this, Spencer?” you asked quietly.

“Do you want the statistics?”

You huffed a small laugh, leaning into him a bit. “Yes.”

“Humans are, and have always been a naturally violent species out of all the mammals,” he said. “Studies show that in most mammals, deaths caused by others of the same species accounts for 0.3 percent of deaths, and typically the reasons are practical; food, territory, et cetera. The rate of lethal violence in humans is almost seven times higher,” Spencer couldn’t resist gesturing with his hands as he spoke. “We kill not just for those reasons, but for seemingly insignificant or even perceived transgressions. Anger is particularly potent, and it makes us do terrible things. Combining that with an often hostile and intolerant society, it makes us predisposed to kill.”

“We’re kind of awful, aren’t we?” you said bitterly.

Spencer nodded slowly, glancing at you. “Some more than others. Some less. If its any consolation-” he hesitated for a full 30 seconds of rain before continuing. “You’re one of the least awful, in my opinion.”

He loved the way your smile grew, gradually reaching your eyes and filling his chest with warmth.

“Thanks,” you said genuinely. “For making this case a little less awful.”

“I’d like to make it not awful at all, if you’d let me.”

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Wordlessly, Spencer reached up, taking the umbrella from your hand and closing it. Gently dropping it by your bag, he took your hands, leading the both of you properly out into the rain. You stared at him, and something clicked, your smile faltering in favour of a more surprised expression.

Spencer tentatively touched your cheek with one hand, fingers barely grazing the skin, as if he was scared you might shatter.

“May I?” he asked, his cheeks going pink at how his voice cracked.

Your small nod was all he needed. Spencer leaned down, his other hand drifting up to cup your jaw with more confidence as he pressed his lips to yours. He kissed with intent, he always did. He couldn’t help it, using the kiss as a way to almost press the words he wanted to say into you.

You let out a muffled squeak of surprise, tilting your head back as your hands found the slightly damp fabric of his cardigan. You kissed back, clumsy and inexperienced, but neither of you cared. The rain was chilly, you both knew you’d be uncomfortably damp for the flight home, but those were small prices to pay for a moment that Spencer realised you’d been right about.

Kissing in the rain was indeed, very romantic. It was romantic in how despite knowing that your clothes were getting wet, your hair was ruined and you were shivering slightly from the cold, all you wanted was the moment to drag on forever.

Finally, you were the first to pull back, grinning up at Spencer with bright eyes and a wide smile, cheeks flushed. You were both vaguely aware the others were watching, Emily and Morgan snickering to each other in your peripheral, but it didn’t matter.

Spencer Reid couldn’t stand the rain. His hair was hard enough to keep presentable when dry, and he knew in this moment he probably resembled a soggy cat. However, for you, he’d gladly make an exception.

thank you for reading <33

[slashisms]

𝓦𝓘𝓝𝓝𝓔𝓡 𝓣𝓐𝓚𝓔𝓢 𝓐𝓛𝓛;

ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧＳ: Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher

ＲＡＴＩＮＧ: E

ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ: MINORS DNI, all characters are 18+. dub-con, but not really, spanking, name-calling, overstimulation, (un)protected sex, anal, etc.

ＷＯＲＤ ＣＯＵＮＴ: 6k

ＳＵＭＭＡＲＹ: Billy and Stu have a disagreement regarding your sex life.

Ａ/Ｎ: special thanks to @blackterrae who sent me a lovely ask that pretty much motivated this fic.

Your relationship with Tatum and Sidney was cordial, for all its ambiguity. You challenge anyone to think of a fitting adjective for the person who unknowingly stole your boyfriend, but saved your life in the process because said boyfriend was planning to kill you gruesomely. None of the questions raised by Billy and Stu’s seemingly random decision to dump both their girlfriends one day mattered once the bodies started dropping.

You were supposed to be their first victim, a red herring before Casey Becker’s murder, but after a failed attempt neither of them will cop to– they decided to pursue you instead. The timeline had been notably suspicious and eventually led to your discovery of their ‘extracurricular’ activity.

With the amount of convincing it took to get them to direct their murderous intentions towards Billy’s adulterous father and stage the whole thing as a murder-suicide with Neil Prescott as the culprit, you figure that sort of makes up for your part in the breakup. When Sidney and Tatum got together some time later, you were hoping for an opportunity to move past any lingering awkwardness.

Mentioning it to Billy and Stu was probably a mistake. They could care less about maintaining boundaries with an ex and considering how Stu’s last relationship ended, they probably thought they were doing the girls a favor by giving them a chance to befriend you. It would move them to the bottom of Billy and Stu’s list of potential victims, at least for a while.

A few weeks after you bring it up, they suggest you go to Sidney’s place to hang out. Perhaps you had been a little naive in thinking the two of them would agree to spend time with their exes’ new girlfriend without any hidden motives. Taking one girl’s boyfriend is bad, but taking two is downright sleazy. You should have been more wary of payback, especially since they knew exactly what pushed your boyfriends’ buttons.

Honestly, it would have been less exhausting if they hazed you to hash things out.

It starts after the end of the gore fest Billy forced everyone to watch. You’re too wrapped up in their flirting to notice the way Sidney and Tatum glance at you before sharing a long look. Tatum yawns dramatically, reaching for the remote to pause the credits with a bored expression. “I think that’s enough sex and stabbing,” she says, rising from the couch and wandering to the kitchen. “Let’s do something fun!”

Sidney rolls her eyes as you try to get Billy and Stu to take their hands off of you long enough to pay attention to the blonde. The two finally settle down when you pinch them in the side, fixing them with a look that has them heeling like two trained dogs. She’s reluctantly impressed by your handling and becoming more convinced that you’ll be fine after they’re done stirring the pot. Tatum returns with a bottle of liquor, swinging it triumphantly as Sidney shakes her head in feigned disapproval. “It’s not a party without vodka!” 

Before you can ask her what she means, the doorbell rings. Sidney gets up to answer it while Tatum silences your protests, tugging you out of Billy and Stu’s arms as voices begin echoing from the entrance way. Stu laughs and Billy smirks at the look of betrayal you give them as she pulls you towards the stairs. Your eyes widen at the crowd of people suddenly swarming the front door, catching a glimpse of Sidney speaking with a nervous looking Randy before handing him a twenty dollar bill.

The next thirty minutes is spent fending off Tatum’s attempts to ply you with vodka and put you in increasingly revealing outfits as she applies mascara and lip-gloss to you while lamenting not having any foundation in your shade. 

You compromise on two shots and a tastefully revealing pleated skirt and crop top before she leaves you to arrange your hair to your liking. Billy and Stu are standing outside like two pathetic puppies when she opens the door and Tatum rolls her eyes. You were wasted on these idiots, she thinks before seeking out her girlfriend. 

Stu wraps his arms around your waist while Billy approaches you, tilting your chin as you pout up at him. “Way to give me a heads up,” you gripe. 

Billy tuts softly, moving your head back and forth as he peers at you. “And give you a chance to run? No way,” he replies, pressing a kiss to your glossy lips. 

“Don’t worry, babe, we won’t leave your side,” Stu promises

Unbeknownst to you, Tatum and Sidney were counting on it. 

They hover by your side like two gargoyles for the duration of the party, guarding your drink as you become progressively tipsier. By your third (and last) drink, you’re ripe for the picking when someone exclaims, “Let’s play truth of dare!” 

You tug your reluctant boyfriends along, sitting on the couch with one of them on either side of you. The game is fairly innocuous for the first round, prepubescent memories or equally embarrassing dares before it delves into raunchier topics. Billy and Stu quickly become bored of torturing their classmates, a direct contrast to the lovey dovey way they treat you that Randy points out with accusatory gagging motions. 

“I’ve got a truth for you Randy,” Billy says, a smug grin on his face. “Are you a nerd because you’re a virgin or a virgin because you’re a nerd?” 

Stu snickers into your neck, kissing your skin in a pointedly mocking manner as you fight down the blush rushing to your face. Randy would usually slink away from this confrontation with his tail between his legs or backtrack with his belly up, but he stands his ground with an uncharacteristic confidence. “I’ve got one too, not for you kind sir, but for our Juliet here,” he says, setting you on edge. “Is there a ranking system to your Romeos or are you left twice as disappointed?” 

When you consider Randy’s part in provoking Billy later, you really think he should have asked for more than twenty dollars to take the beating the two of them dole out. You try to stop him when he rises from the couch, but he shakes you off easily as Stu’s playful grin falls and he follows suit, stalking towards Randy. You sigh when Billy grips Randy’s collar and delivers two blows to his face with the back of his hand without a word, pushing him into Stu’s waiting arms. The party goes wild as the two heft him over their shoulders, tossing him into a rowdy crowd surf that ends with him crashing onto the coffee table. 

Yet as the two slink back to your side, the seed has already been planted. You’re guiltily holding back laughter while they size the other up, oblivious to the signals that you should address the issue and drunk enough to believe that kicking Randy’s ass has resolved everything. You miss the silent communication that seals your fate: an annoyed quirk of Billy’s brow, an obnoxious grin from Stu and a glance at you and the exit. “C’mon, let’s ditch this snooze fest,” Stu insists, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

Your protests are quelled by the look Billy gives you, though it doesn’t take long for you to realize something’s up as they silently escort you back to the car. Billy gets in the back with you, barely closing the door before he’s pushing you back onto the leather seat. Stu starts the car while Billy climbs on top of you, hands roaming over your body to grope at your curves. His voice is deceptively calm when he speaks. “Hey, babe,” he says, pressing a biting kiss to your neck. “What did you think about that loser’s question?” 

You blink, brain crashing to a halt as Billy makes room for himself between your thighs. The two were definitely different, but they were plenty skilled at satisfying you that it never occurred to you to compare the two. From the way Billy stares at you, brown eyes glinting dangerously, he’s expecting an answer. “Uh, I think he was pretty stupid to ask something like that without wearing a cup,” you reply, trying to diffuse the thick tension in the air.

He smirks, tilting his head to the side as his hand moves to the edge of your skirt, slipping under it as he hums softly. “Well it’s started a debate that only you can solve,” he says. “Stuart here thinks he screws you better than I do.” 

Your breath catches as he pinches the lace band of your panties, snapping it against your skin. His words ignite a fire in your gut kindled by the thumb he’s swiping back and forth over your pulsing core. He presses a kiss to your mouth before biting meanly on your earlobe. “He thinks he fucks this pussy better than I do,” he whispers in your ear, using two fingers to caress your slippery vulva. 

You let out a weak cry when he parts your lips, rubbing tiny circles over your clit as he sucks a bruise into your neck. “I don’t think words are gonna get through to that type of delusion,” he says, ignoring Stu’s scoff. “So we’re gonna settle this tonight.” 

You have a moment to cope with the dread his words dredge up, the idea of being chewed up like a toy to settle a score makes you wish Randy never opened his big mouth. Billy’s fingertip grazing your entrance distracts you from your thoughts as trails his lips over your chest. “Make sure to keep track, princess,” he orders. “I’ll be taking your first.” 

Your hands grip at the seat as he continues kissing his way down your body before lifting your skirt. He pushes your knees apart, tugging off your panties and tossing them up in Stu’s direction. Billy rolls his eyes when he sees him bring the moist fabric to his face and inhale with a throaty groan. You feel the shift of tires on gravel under your head as the car swerves and Billy curses, striking the blond on the back of the head.

Despite his warning to pay attention, Billy cups both of your tits roughly in his palms and tugs on your top and bra to create an enticing image that threatens to divert Stu’s gaze from the road all over again. The drive to his place feels like it takes forever as Stu has to listen to Billy eat you out. He can picture the way the other is trailing kisses up your thighs—and bites, judging by your yelp, before lapping at your opening, swiping his tongue over your twitching hole.

He spits on your clit, sucking it into his mouth with a messy slurping sound and licking at you with exaggerated noises. Stu grips the steering wheel until his knuckles ache at your whiny moans and Billy’s encouragement, his cock painfully tight in his jeans as it throbs against his zipper. “That’s it, pretty girl,” he hears Billy murmur after dragging his tongue over your slit for the nth time, groaning at your taste. “Just relax and cum for me.” 

Stu’s doing twenty-five over the speed limit and he’s ran the three last red lights, but it’s worth it when he finally pulls into his stupidly long driveway. Once the car’s in park, he whips his head around to see Billy’s hand moving under your skirt as he sinks his middle and pointer finger inside you to the knuckle. His fingers press into your quivering walls as he mouths lazily at your clit, scissoring you open.

You back arches, overwhelmed by the constant stimulation to your sensitive bundle as his ruthless fingers dig into your body. You thrash weakly underneath Billy as he brings you to orgasm with just his tongue and two fingers, trembling thighs wrapped around his head. Stu grinds his teeth when Billy pulls back, smirking at him triumphantly as he removes his fingers from your body and sucks them into his mouth. “That’s one for me,” he jeers.  

“Fuck off,” Stu says, climbing over the seat and launching himself at him. 

You’re too busy catching your breath to care about the ensuing scuffle, rolling over as they begin trading blows. They don’t pull any punches either, going at it like wild dogs. In the enclosed space, Stu has the advantage and he catches Billy off guard with a hand in his jeans and a biting kiss. He groans as Stu grips his erection, roughly thumbing the head as he pins him to the car door.

The brunet can only watch as Stu fumbles for the handle, nuzzling Billy’s chin with his own and grinning at the mix of fury and arousal in his brown eyes. “My turn,” he whispers, opening the door and shoving him out before locking the car.

“Uh, was that such a good idea?” You ask, glancing at Billy, who’s banging on the window and cursing profusely. 

Stu turns to you, grin stretching across his face. “Focus on me, babe,” he orders. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard, that shit looked weak.” 

Before you can raise any concerns, Stu’s tongue is in your mouth, filling it with the coppery taste of blood. He grips both of your knees and pulls them apart, gazing down at you like he couldn’t care less that you were ruining his seats. One of his hands reaches out to glide through the mess on your thighs, coating his fingers before pushing two inside you. “As if he’s better at making you cum,” he grumbles, hooking his fingers and scraping them along your walls. “Look at how your pussy is sucking me in, she clearly likes me best.” 

You shudder, annoyed at how he manages to make his petulant whining sexy and Stu leans forward, smashing his lips to yours. “I’m gonna show you and him,” he growls. “Who owns this fucking pussy.” 

You gasp into his mouth as he fucks his fingers deeper into your body, smirking when you tighten around him. He leers at your bouncing chest, biting harshly at your nipple and sucking it into his mouth. You dimly hear the sound of the car unlocking as he moves on to the other nipple, but Stu just snickers. 

Luckily, Billy seems to have cooled off by the time he climbs in the front seat, opting to observe the way you fall apart under Stu. The man in question turns to him, pushing a third finger past your entrance with a satisfied grunt. He pounds into you with relentless force, licking his lips as he taunts, “I don’t even need to touch her clit to get her like this.” 

Stu uses his other hand to pin your flailing body down, smirking at the sob you let out when he does graze your clit. “Watch closely and take notes,” he says, the words nearly drowned out by your moans. 

If you didn’t look so debauched, there would definitely be another fight breaking out, but Billy just rolls his eyes, taking in your blissed out expression with an obsessive gleam in his eye. The spirit of competition was at its peak and you were in for a long night.

Convincing them not to completely wreck Stu’s car takes long enough that you’re able to regain some semblance of control. Not enough to stop Stu from tossing you over his shoulder and carrying you inside, but at least he takes you to his bedroom instead of the nearest flat surface in his house. There’s a temporary truce as your boyfriends strip away every article of clothing, leaving you and them bare.

Before they can start arguing about who’s next, you insist they cooperate before you dry up at their incessant bickering so they stick to alternating. Billy hovers over you, thick cock bobbing between his legs as the flushed tip leaks precum while Stu hovers in the back, stroking himself to relieve his tension. “He thinks he’s doing you a favor by ignoring your sweet spot, baby girl,” Billy sighs, giving you an apologetic kiss on your forehead. “Let me show him what that cute little clit’s for.” 

Billy slides down your body, grabbing your ankles and placing them on his shoulders as he moves forward. His hands cup your thighs and your cunt throbs under his stare, legs quaking when his thumbs spread your folds, revealing your glistening bud. His tongue darts out, flicking over it with pointed swipes as you bite your lip to suppress a wanton moan.

It doesn’t take long for him to work you to your peak, the simmering fire in your gut from your two orgasms easily paving the way to a third as he slurps at your clit before nudging at your opening. You let out a moan when he pushes past your entrance, groaning at the way you tighten around his tongue. His fingers come to play sloppily with your clit, the sound echoing in the room as he scoops you open. He hums in approval when you scream his name, pinching your clit between his fingers to make you scream louder.

Billy grinds against the edge of the bed as he gulps down your slick, sealing his lips over your cunt as he inches his tongue deeper. Stu curses as you toss your head back, eyes rolling back to your skull as Billy stops pinching your clit to strike it with a loud ‘smack!’ You whine as he pulls his hand back, landing a wet slap directly to the over sensitive bud. He pulls you further into his face and buries his nose in your mound, watching your tits bounce as you rut your hips against him.

He loves watching you chase your pleasure, forgetting to be self-conscious about how you look the closer you get. Your orgasm catches you off guard, the coil in your gut snapping after Billy delivers three stinging swats to your pussy, heat bursting between your legs as you weep. “Fuck!” You shout, convulsing as you gush into Billy’s mouth. 

Billy moans, slurping your cum into his mouth with his tongue as the rest drips down his face and onto the sheets. He reluctantly pulls away after a few more kisses to your throbbing clit and Stu approaches, staring down at your twitching body with a possessive gaze. Your heart pounds when they switch places, Stu prowling over you as his eyes dart over your face, breasts, and cunt. His fingers swipe over your puffy labia, hooking one inside to feel your walls ripple with the aftershocks.

Normally they would have been fucking you silly at this point, but Stu is determined to eat you out better than Billy, ignoring the painfully hard erection jutting against his belly. Though he can’t resist grabbing your ankles and pushing them towards your ears, lining his body up with yours to nudge his cock against your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he sighs, tongue lolling out. “I’m gonna fucking destroy this pussy.” 

You groan at his words, staring at him with bleary eyes as he pulls back, sliding his hands down to cup the meat of your thighs. He holds you in place as he bends down to press his lips to your vulva, kissing it the same way he does your mouth, forcefully and with too much tongue. It feels like you’re being roasted alive as your ankles tremble by your face, your nerves overloaded as he pays almost punishing attention to your clit. 

After your third orgasm, the stimulation is almost too much. “Please, no more,” you plead. “Just fuck me already.” 

Billy curses behind you, the sound of you begging for their cocks has always been a weakness of theirs. Stu clicks his tongue, squeezing your thighs until you whimper softly. “Just be quiet and cum,” he orders, nibbling at the engorged bud. 

You have no choice but to obey, Stu’s iron grip on your thighs preventing you from moving an inch as he makes out with your clit, curling his lips around it and sucking as his thick tongue swats back and forth, making you squeal. One of your thighs falls onto his shoulder as he slides a hand to your entrance, poking and prodding before pushing three fingers in at once, smirking at the undignified howl you let out as he forces your body open.

He spreads his fingers, moaning at the feeling of your body giving way to his hand. You take in a shuddering breath as another orgasm builds, your clit pulsing against his tongue as he forces it out of you. Maybe that’s why it feels different and your brow furrows as you struggle to gather your wits to warn Stu. “W-wait, it-it feels like—”

You gasp as a hand covers your mouth, gaze flickering to where Billy is hovering over you, preventing any further arguments. You’re less than an active participant at the moment, they just want you to lay there and let them make you feel good. Your eyes squeeze shut as your climax crashes into you like an electric shock, leaving you jerking and squirming in Stu’s grip. 

“Oh fuck, dude, she just squirted,” Stu says with a shit-eating grin, pulling away with your cum dripping down his chin. “Shouldn’t that count for two?”

“Fuck no!”

“C’mon, you scared you can’t make her do it?”

You’re. Fucked. 

Stu cackles, swiping his tongue over the remnants of your cum on his face as Billy pushes him out of the way. “You’re gonna have to replace this shitty mattress,” he threatens as they swap spots.

Billy cups your cheek, glaring down at you like it's your fault they’ve reduced you to an overstimulated wreck. His other hand jerks himself off slowly, eyes moving from your face to your trembling body. “Look at you, cumming so easily after begging to stop,” he sneers. “I’m gonna pound this desperate little cunt until you’re begging for my cock.”

Despite his vicious words, he kisses you gently, pushing his tongue into your mouth until you taste yourself. He kisses down your neck and both of you groan when he braces his arms on either side of you, sliding his cock through your folds with slow rocking motions. “Motherfucker thinks I can’t make this pussy squirt,” he hisses, gripping his cock and pushing the bulbous tip inside you. “Just wait, you’re gonna be gushing around my cock.” 

You’re speared open as Billy sheathes himself inside of you in a single motion, pushing past any resistance with a groan. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your walls clinging to every ridge and vein of his cock, slipping in easily after Stu’s fucked you open. His fists grip the sheets as he pulls out, slamming back in with a grunt.

His pace is savage as his hips slap against yours, carving a space in your body as he kisses you to smother your screams. Your back arches and your hands slap at his chest, scratching your nails down his skin when he grinds against that spongy knot of your cervix. Billy’s hand comes up to your nape and tilts your head, tapping your cheek. Your eyes flutter open, meeting his piercing gaze. “Look. Look at this greedy fucking cunt,” he orders, until you’re both staring at where his cock is disappearing inside you. “She’s gripping me so fucking hard, this tight little pussy doesn’t want to let me go.”

His hips never falter as he pummels into your body, his thrusts rocking the mattress until it’s creaking obnoxiously in concord with the ‘shlickshlickshlick’ of his cock thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. It’s impossible to gather a coherent thought as you watch and listen to the symphony of your bodies, but you vaguely hear yourself telling him you love it, begging him to go harder, deeper, to cum inside you so you can feel it.

You’ll say anything as long as he keeps delivering blazing jolts of ecstasy to your cunt, rendering any chance you’ve got at higher order thinking futile. Billy laughs at the glassy, dazed expression on your face as you fall apart underneath him. “Fucking cock drunk already, huh?” He laughs. “I’ll give you every goddamn inch since you want it so bad.”

He nuzzles closer to you to stare into your eyes, pulling your legs around his waist and bringing you in to meet his hips. You shake your head when he brings his thumb to your swollen clit, moaning at the way you milk his cock when he applies the slightest pressure. He squeezes your lips into a pout, shaking you like a rag doll when your eyes start to shut. “Don’t you dare close your eyes, you fucking slut,” he hisses. “You’re gonna remember who’s making you cum like this.”

You can’t even remember your own name, mouth dropping open in a silent gasp as drool slides down your chin and tears pool in your eyes. They spill over onto your cheeks, dark tracks of mascara falling onto the sheets as Billy pinches and strokes your clit. “Aw, you’re such a crybaby,” he teases. “Beg me and I’ll stop.”

“Please, please, please stop,” you comply immediately. “I can’t–can’t take anymore, it hurts.”

“Good girl, you’re so pretty when you beg,” Billy coos with feigned sympathy before drawing in and out of you until it feels like you, or the bed frame. is going to break. You gasp, staring at him with wide eyes when he pulls out to the tip, tapping it against your clit before angling his cock back at your entrance. “Billy, you promised!” You whimper, glaring at him with tear stained lashes.

“I lied,” he says before slamming back in, listening to you cry out. 

He fucks you hard and fast, ignoring your hiccuping pleas as his fingertips glide over your clit mercilessly. Billy grunts with every roll of his hips, covering your mouth as he plants his feet in the mattress and jackhammers against your g-spot, sparks shooting up your spine until your pussy undulates deliciously against every curve of his cock.

Billy curses when your teeth sink into his palm as you finally cum, eyes rolling back into your skull. His hips keep moving even as you clench around him, jaw aching as he fucks you through your orgasm. “C’mon, give it to me,” he growls, brutalizing your walls. “Soak my fucking cock, nasty girl.”

Your fifth orgasm is an out of body experience, your throat scraped raw as you yell against his palm, lower body exploding in a rush of slickness. “That’s it, baby,” he moans, balls tightening as he ruts his cock into your cervix before spilling inside you. 

You shudder at the warmth of his cum, moaning into the kiss he gives you as you come down. Billy slips out of you, reluctantly allowing an impatient Stu to take your place. You blink at the sensation of his shadow falling over you, vision blurry with tears as you look up at his dark expression. “Shit, babe,” he breathes softly, pupils blown as he caresses your overwrought form. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

You would laugh at the idea of being sexy while laying there like a wet noodle if you could manage to gather any air in your lungs. Stu leans forward, nuzzling your chest before swiping his tongue over your nipple. He grabs your trembling thighs and pulls your limp body into his lap, tongue moving over your chest and collarbone, groaning at the taste of your sweat. He cups your face with both of his hands, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he grinds against your pussy.

Stu shivers at the feeling of cum dripping onto his cock, the wet glide of your bodies finally providing some relief to the ache in his balls. Watching Billy fucking you without joining in was torture and his patience is wearing thin. He gives you a moment to catch your breath then slides his hands down to your thighs, lifting you slightly in the air before dropping you straight onto his cock. 

He laughs at the squeal you let out as your head knocks against his shoulder and your body curls into his chest, practically strangling his cock. He grips the globes of your ass, yanking you off and slamming you back down. Stu fucks into you like a rabid animal, teeth pulled back into a snarl as he bites and sucks at your neck.

He grins as you sob into his shoulder, impaling you on his cock with a loud squelching noise before jerking your hips up and down to meet his, shivering at the sensation of thrusting into your cum-filled hole. “Yeah, it’s good, huh?” He taunts. “Then take it, take it–take it all, you fucking bitch.”

He bounces you in his lap like a flesh-light, grinning at Billy as he spreads your cheeks wide enough to reveal your puckered asshole. The brunette’s gaze is drawn to the winking flesh as Stu inches one of his slender fingers towards it, pulling a nervous whine from you. “We should fuck you here too,” he purrs. “A whore like you isn’t satisfied until all your holes are filled.”

You moan softly and Stu smirks, smacking your ass and watching the flesh jiggle reverently. You let out an anguished cry of pleasure when he swipes his hands through the mess of cum dripping from your cunt to slick up a finger and slips it past the tight ring of muscle, curving his finger into your ass. You nearly bite down on your tongue when he sinks in a second finger, scissoring them using Billy’s cum as lube.

Stu groans as your entire body locks up, squeezing around him in a vice-like grip as you’re pushed to the edge from being penetrated at the same time. He hitches your hips into his, grinding deep into your gummy g-spot. You’d never thought you’d despair at the thought of your clit being touched but when he lets go of your hip to paw at the nub furiously, you think you start crying again. 

“Billy was right. You are a crybaby,” Stu coos, swiping his tongue over your salty tears. “Too bad it only makes me wanna see you cry harder.” 

You have to hold onto his shoulders or risk toppling over as he pounds into you, his thighs quaking as he propels his hips into yours. Your entire body is starting to feel like an exposed nerve, overloaded with a depth of sensory information that you can only process by crying out lewdly and drooling onto Stu’s skin. 

“Oh fuck, here it comes,” Stu hisses, informing you of your orgasm before you even realize it’s approaching. “Such a selfish pussy, cumming all by yourself. I guess we’ll see if you break the record tonight.”

You claw at his shoulders, back bowed and cunt pulsing around his cock as you quiver in his lap, drenching his waist as stars erupt behind your eyelids. You barely register the sound of Stu and Billy’s voices, an imploring murmur from Stu and a warning hiss from Billy is your only warning before you feel Billy’s length poking at your asshole.

You let out a weak protest that Stu hushes. “Billy wants to feel how tight you are, sweetheart, just let him put the tip in,” he croons softly, slipping his fingers out so Billy can slide the mushroom head of his cock into your body. 

“Fuck,” Billy sighs, tossing his head back at the heat enveloping him. “I love this slutty body, it’s still so tight even when we fuck you stupid.”

He pauses, a bruising grip on your hip and jaw clenched as Stu rocks your body back onto his. He gasps as you slowly sink onto him, moaning with every jerk of Stu’s length against the thin barrier of flesh separating them in your body. He swears, brows furrowing as you choke back a pitiful wail when another orgasm follows immediately, torn out of you almost involuntarily from their ruthless treatment. “Shit, she’s coming again,” Stu chuckles, pinching your clit as you whine. “I guess we’ll share credit for this one, but I’m still in the lead.” 

Billy kisses his teeth, pushing you further down as his breath catches at the friction of their cocks fucking in and out of you. He kisses your nape before biting at your shoulder. “How many times is that, princess?” He questions, gripping your chin and turning your face towards him. 

They both moan at the spaced out expression you’re wearing and Billy shakes your head to get your attention, waiting for your teary eyes to slide over to his face. “How many times did this filthy pussy cum, huh?” He repeats. “I told you to keep track, didn’t I, princess?”

You shake your head, burying your face in Billy’s palm, mumbling, “Don’t know, can’t remember, please, I can’t take anymore.”  

Billy slaps your ass until his palm stings, cursing when you seize around him. “I asked you to do one fucking thing,” he snaps, relishing in your pained mewl. “Dumb whore can’t even count when we’re fucking her.” 

Oh no. You’re starting to feel like a minor villain about to be conquered through the power of friendship, the preclude to your defeat stemming from the epiphany of two rivals that cooperation will yield better results.

Torturing others was a pastime that brought Stu and Billy together and you were no exception. If your tongue wasn’t heavy as lead in your mouth, you’d try to say something to dissuade them from doing so at any cost, but you can only hold pathetically onto Stu and hope for the best. 

“The fuck does a virgin like Randy know?” Billy growls, gripping your waist and lifting you off of their cocks before slamming you back down. “You love fucking both of us, don’t you? You cum harder when we paint your insides together.” 

Okay, maybe this was an opportunity for a quick resolution. You nod emphatically, eeking out breathless ‘uh huh’s and ‘mhmm’s that seem to satisfy Billy. You can only hope they’ll forget the competition and fuck you to completion together because you couldn’t take much more.

Stu’s breath trembles and his thighs tense as he covers Billy’s hands on your hips and shoves his cock into the hilt, sliding the hand on your clit to your stomach. “Fuck, you feel that, baby?” He moans. “I’m gonna cum here, right in this thirsty womb.”

You take a moment to be grateful for birth control as Stu buries himself in your cunt, pulsing one last time before shooting inside, moaning as Billy’s cock grinds into his from behind. You’re almost convinced that you succeeded in distracting them when they both slip out of you with a groan and Stu maneuvers you gently into Billy’s chest before getting off of the mattress.

Billy shifts your bodies off the undeniably soaked sheets to a dry spot and tangles your legs together. Stu grabs a water bottle from his mini fridge and your eyes open when you hear the twist of the cap. He holds the bottle to your lips until you gulp down half of it before setting it on the nightstand.

Your eyes widen as he pulls out a condom, glancing at Billy who takes it from him with a Cheshire grin. You watch as he tears the packet open with his teeth before sliding the condom over his throbbing cock, gripping it at the base. “We still have to settle this fair and square,” he says at your doe eyed gaze, lining himself up with your swollen pussy. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t lend each other a hand. Every magician needs an assistant, right babe?” 

Okay, so you’ve been sufficiently fucked over by two scheming lesbians, but it’s nothing less than what you deserve.

[yesihaveaobsession]

Alastor x female reader

Summary: Alastor asks the reader (you) to be his victim of affection aka his way of asking to be his Valentines.

A/N- This turned out really cute not gonna lie, I'm proud of it I hope y'all enjoy! And thank you for 600 followers oh my gosh I LOVE Y'ALL <3

Valentine's Day at the Hazbin Hotel was in full swing. Pink and red heart balloons, trinkets, and kiss mark decorations hung from the walls. Charlie was in the middle of putting icing on some heart-shaped cupcakes when Alastor strolled into the room, his usual grin plastered on his face. But there was a certain, yet different, energy about him—one that immediately caught her attention, as well as Vaggie’s, who was standing right next to her.

Vaggie raised a brow. “What’s with him?”

“I don’t know,” Charlie whispered, already brimming with excitement. “But I think it’s going to be cute!”

Alastor stopped right in front of you and adjusted his bowtie. Was he… nervous? Alastor? Nervous?

"Ah, my dear! A lovely afternoon, isn’t it?" His voice carried its usual sing-song charm, but there was a spark in his crimson eyes that you couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah, lovely,” you replied with a smile, tilting your head. “What’s up?” You were sitting on the couch in the foyer, cutting out hearts from construction paper because Charlie had some sort of craft planned. You knew barely anyone would want to do it, but you had paused your cutting when Alastor spoke.

“Well,” he began, tapping his chin dramatically, “I’ve been pondering a rather pressing question, and it appears that you are the only suitable candidate to assist me in this matter.” His grin widened—if that was even possible—as he leaned in slightly.

You raised a brow. “Oh? What question?” you asked with a slight head tilt and a polite smile. He paused for effect, twirling his microphone before placing it in front of him like a stage prop.

“Would you do me the immense honor of being my… victim of affection this Valentine’s Day?” His eyes gleamed with theatrical flair, and his voice dropped to a soft, almost tender tone at the last part.

Alastor was asking YOU to be his Valentine?

“Victim of affection?” you repeated with a laugh. “Is that your way of asking me to be your valentine?”

He straightened, his grin never faltering. “Precisely! But you see, my dear, ordinary declarations simply won’t do. I’d rather make a… spectacle of it. Perhaps an elaborate dinner, a touch of jazz, and a little magic in the air?” He gave a flourishing bow. "Only if you're willing to risk an unforgettable evening, of course."

Before you could answer, Charlie let out a little squeal.

“Oh my gosh! That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” she gushed, clutching Vaggie’s arm. “Look at him! He’s so sweet when he’s nervous!”

Vaggie smirked. “It’s definitely… something. But I’ll give him credit—it’s kind of adorable,” though she didn’t really want to admit it. Meanwhile, Alastor cleared his throat, his eyes flickering toward the two of them as they gave him a thumbs-up.

“Pay no attention to the audience, dear. The question remains: will you grant me the honor of being my Valentine?”

A smile crept onto your face as you looked at the bouquet, then back at him. “How could I say no to that offer?”

Alastor’s grin widened, and the room practically crackled with energy. “Splendid! We shall have quite the time, my dear!” He offered his arm with a flourish. “Prepare yourself for a Valentine’s Day like no other!”

You’d honestly never seen him this happy, but… should you be nervous about what the day might bring? Or what he might bring?

[justalittlelilac]

Four days.

You had four days to tell Qiu Lin you were in love with them, and you just missed your first opportunity.

Part 1

The rickety "hideout" fort creaked mournfully under you as you climbed its weathered wall, pulling yourself toward the top. Pale, sun-bleached wood like dry bones brushed your skin, and you were careful with your hand placement to avoid splinters for the thousandth time.

The fort was a skeleton of your childhood, each wooden beam a brittle rib holding together a heart that beat with memories. The wood was warping in some places, and every nail was colored with rust. At some point over the years, you had to get creative with your foot placement because the rock wall was missing its original number of steps.

You could still hear Mrs. Lin's voice from a year ago, requesting Mr. Lin to tear it down, calling it a "safety hazard." It absolutely was—is—but that didn't stop Qiu, Tamarack, and you from protesting incessantly over keeping it up. The two adults eventually relented, much to your trio's pleasure of keeping a piece of your childhood a bit longer.

As you reached the top, you thought distantly that it'd likely come down now that Qiu wouldn't be here, the true reason for it still standing gone. Nostalgic bitterness coated your throat like a sour film with the understanding that next fall, this yard would likely be empty, and this fort would be nothing but another memory.

"Hey stranger," a familiar voice called, pulling you back from the brink of your common stormy thoughts. Your eyes snapped up, and there they were—Qiu, grinning down at you with that easy, sunlit smile and amused dark eyes, crouched against the post of the opening.

It was like everything else dimmed. Your breath caught, and for a moment, your mind went blank, as if spooked by their very sight, as if you had forgotten why you were here.

They were just as beautiful as you remembered. Even more so. Their hair was half up, dark and loose, a few strands framing their face. Their grin settled into a gentle smile as they reached out a hand to help you up. Schooling your features to be more nonchalant, you readily grasped it, relishing the warmth that spread up your arm from the contact.

"Hey yourself," you replied cooly while climbing into the hideout. Your nose was filled with the scent of old wet wood and earth as you righted yourself and briefly took in the interior. The thing hadn't changed since the last time the three of you were in it—a shrine to simpler days.

The ceiling was bordered with a string of battery-operated twinkle lights—long since burned out, victims of time and the elements. A rouge blanket lay crumpled in the corner abandoned. Some well-worn comics and magazines were scattered around it haphazardly as if the group had left in a hurry and just never returned.

No time travel was involved, yet it felt like only yesterday—this time capsule of youth.

Qiu settled themselves against the far wall, stretching their legs, and you did the same across from them. There was no way the two of you could stand in the space anymore. That ended around age 14, but somehow, you kept coming back, all of you. It was like a touchstone, a headquarters.

Now, the small fort was comfortably cramped with your legs stacked side-by-side. Qiu shoved their hands in their jacket pockets and leaned their head back to look at the ceiling. It was a routine of sorts; no words are needed right away. No expectation of entertainment in the slightest. Just the quiet calm between two people who knew each other better than anyone else.

"Oh, right!" Qiu exclaimed, suddenly remembering, twisting around to reach into the back pocket of their jeans. You couldn't help but smirk; it was so like Qiu to forget why they'd asked you to come in the first place. Even still, you were buzzing with curiosity.

After a moment of fumbling, they produced something, hiding it behind their back, and paused for dramatic effect with a grin. You laughed and nudged their leg.

"Come on, you're killing me here, and it's getting cold!" The sun had already dipped below the tree line, blanketing the world in the blues and purples of twilight. It had also taken the warmth, and you could start to see your breath puff small, visible clouds. As you waited, you could faintly smell smoke on the gentle wind of someone burning leaves. Qiu chuckled in response.

"Okay, okay, I've made you suffer long enough." With a self-assured smirk, they revealed what they'd been hiding. Dangling from their hand was a keychain—a small, smiling dolphin. It spun lazily on its metal ring like a leaf caught in a gentle current.

You blinked, then reached out to take it, turning it over and brushing your thumb over the warm, smooth plastic. The words were engraved in delicate cursive on the dolphin's side: "Prism Vista City."

Where Qiu was attending school.

It had been quite a story of how Qiu ended up there. Last year, seemingly out of the blue, back from the dead, an old childhood friend, Baxter Ward, had reached out to all of you wanting to make amends and reconnect. Somehow, that led Qiu and their parents to California to visit Baxter and see the university there.

Unsurprisingly, Qiu fell in love with the city. With its warm weather, bright lights, and something always going on—ever-changing, it was right up Qiu's alley. Moreover, the university held a highly reputable program that Qiu wanted to study, and they already knew someone in the area.

Of course, they had been accepted. Of course, they had decided to go. You had been happy for them. Thrilled, even. It had seemed like such a grand adventure—a reunion, a new beginning. How could you ever be upset about that?

Your fingers tightened around the dolphin, bending its top fin slightly.

"For your keys!" Qiu said with some pride, crossing their arms. That's right, you had car keys now. At the beginning of summer, your mom relinquished ownership of the old vehicle to you and bought herself a newer one. It had made you feel invincible, like a superhero, driving Qiu and Tamarack around on those late, warm nights with the windows down and music blasting. Another memory you held dear.

"Thanks! It'll be my first one, actually. This was really thoughtful, Qiu. You didn't have to get me anything, though," You gave them a genuine smile, clutching the little gift to your chest.

Qiu beamed at you like they'd just won the lottery. For a moment, that familiar flutter filled your stomach. You could tell them now. You could get it over with and let the words out into the open air, but then what? The thought flickered, and you brushed it aside.

What mattered was that Qiu was here now, and time was slipping through your fingers like water. You could tell them how you felt, risk losing them forever, or stay silent and lose them just the same. You opened your mouth to speak, but Qiu beat you to it.

"I absolutely needed to! I was at the pier with Micah and some of our other friends—you remember me telling you about Micah, right? Well, anyway, it's actually a pretty funny story. We'd all just got out of class, and Kacy said…" The rest of Qiu's story had faded into radio static.

Your eyes trailed down to the dolphin with its mocking smile. Right. Qiu was building a life there. They already had new friends, like you knew they would. Even outside of Golden Grove, they still shined.

They were already building new memories. Memories that didn't include you.

Like watching a movie that you already knew the ending to, you felt yourself drift away from the moment, just like everything else in this damn town.

Just like everything else in your life.

If only you were more like them, brave enough to leave, to chase the unknown. But you weren't. You weren't smart like that, determined—ambitious. You had chosen to stay, to settle, and that's where your life remained buried, while Qiu's only grew like vines reaching for the sun.

"Hey, you okay?" Came Qiu's voice. You finally snapped your head up to look at them, a dull ache forming behind your eyes. They wore an amused smile until it melted off their face at whatever expression they saw on yours.

You tried to school it into something more pleasant and failed miserably. Qiu's face morphed into concern, and they sat up straighter. "What's wrong? You know you can tell me."

You shook your head, shoving the dolphin deep into your coat pocket, where it felt like a lead weight. "It's nothing. I'm just super stressed about this last exam I have to do tonight," you lied.

The words tasted bitter in your mouth. At one point in your adolescence, lying came as naturally to you as breathing. Lying to teachers, parents, and, in one case, the authorities, but never Tamarack and Qiu. Nowadays, lying comes out in 'I'm doing great's and 'Yeah, I love school!'

A rock settled in your stomach, watching Qiu nod in understanding, believing you. "Man, I feel you there. I still have an essay due at midnight," they commiserated.

"How much do you have left to do?" You inquired earnestly, happy to have the shift in conversation. Qiu's eyebrows pinched together, and they winced.

"I, uh, sort of haven't started it yet," they confessed with a sheepish grin. "I wanted to see you first. Plus, there's no way it'll take all night anyway."

"Qiu!" You groaned exasperatedly. Their eyes darted away guiltily, and you reached down to lightly smack their leg, earning another wince. "Well, that settles it." You shuffled towards the exit and began to climb down the rock wall. From behind, you heard Qiu mutter something and then sigh.

"Aw, come on! I just got back. Just a little longer?" they pleaded. Your feet landed with a soft thud on the grass below, and you turned to look up at them, leaning over the rail, just like the first time you met—except you were not as merciful as your ten-year-old self.

"Only one of us gets to be the burnout, Qiu Lin, and that role is already taken so—" you claimed with mock pride while putting your hands on your hips. In the same instance, you jutted a thumb behind you to their house. "Get to it."

Qiu's smile faltered. They never liked it when you joked about that. But it was true—you were the former gifted kid turned crash-out stoner while Qiu was…well, Qiu.

"That's not…" Qiu began, but you cut them off.

"If you don't start now, I'll make sure mom doesn't bring her pumpkin pie tomorrow," you threatened with a devilish smirk. Qiu laughed and narrowed their eyes.

"You wouldn't," they challenged.

"Find out," you shot back. Qiu's eyes widened with panic.

"Alright! Okay!" They gave a resigned sigh. "You know too many of my weaknesses; you've become too powerful." With a final sigh, they swung over the rail and jumped to the ground. You laughed at their antics. The fall wasn't nearly as high as when you were kids, but Qiu still managed to make it look daring.

In the deepening twilight, you stood there, face to face, the stars now bright and clear above you. They seemed closer here, sharper, like little diamonds twinkling in an onyx net. One of the things you loved most about Golden Grove was the minimal light pollution.

You, Qiu, and Tamarack had spent so many nights stargazing. Even more so with just the two of you. It felt like it had been yours and Qiu's thing—a private ritual. Qiu followed your gaze, and their smile grew as they looked up to the heavens.

"Jeez, I forgot how bright the stars are. You don't get that in Prism Vista," they said, almost wistfully.

"Yeah, that's cities for you," you murmured, wondering if they had looked up at the same night sky in those last few months and thought of you.

"True," Qiu replied. "Then again, with so much to do there, who needs stars? We used to stare at them for hours just to keep from going out of our minds with boredom." They chuckled softly, still gazing upward, sounding so casual.

Your heart ached. This thing that had meant so much to you was a distraction to them. For you, it had never been about the stars. It had always been about the person beside you, the one who had put them in the sky.

"…Qiu?" Your voice came out small, almost fragile. They lowered their head from the sky to look down at you, a kind smile gracing their face. Silence stretched thickly between the two of you.

Qiu's brow softened, and their smile shifted into something gentler, sending a flush to your cheeks and making your heart race. You stepped back, wussing out from whatever you were originally going to say. "Uh, we'll be over around three tomorrow," you said instead, stumbling over your words. "Mom wants us to help." Qiu blinked, momentarily thrown off.

"Oh, right. Yeah, I'll let mom know," they nodded, still looking slightly confused. You turned, eager to escape, but Qiu continued. "You don't have to go, though! If you're not busy—I mean, you could help me with this essay?" they asked, hopefully.

You turned back with a tight smile. "No, I need to get back to do that exam, and besides, you know we'd never get anything done, and then my threat would be pointless because I'm the one who distracted you," you laughed, then added, "Thanks again for the gift," You held up the dolphin and quickly shoved it back in your pocket. Qiu nodded, half-smiling.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then." With your own nod, you turned and headed in the direction you came.

"Love you!" Qiu called after you when you were halfway across the yard.

The words flowed through you, brushing delicately against your heart like a breeze, but you didn't answer, letting the crunch of leaves underfoot drown out the silence.

You pretended not to hear as you went, knowing it wasn't that kind of love and you couldn't say it back this time. That was boundary of your lying.

"I love you too," you whispered into your scarf as you went, clutching the keychain harder.

This was going to be the hardest Thanksgiving break of your life.

Part 3

[kindaasrikal]

Resurrected Morro head canons because I’m supremely bored+the ninja:

Morro cusses everyone out every two seconds. There is no ‘soft side’ this mf is a sword that never loses its edge.

Because of Wu and only Wu, Morro is a sarcastic little loser. He will not hold back on insulting someone either.

He’s actually surprisingly quiet most of the time, like even his footsteps are near silent. The ninja have gotten jump-scared by him more than they ever did when he was dead.

He cannot handle any sort of affection, care, or love given to him. Like he can very rarely do it himself with no sweat, he’s complimented Nya’s skill or Cole’s strength hundreds of times, but if anyone like Kai or Wu (two individuals known to train daily and know all that bull inside out) were to compliment him he’s suddenly a tomato. He’ll start looking away from you, acting all nonchalant but everyone can hear the way his voice goes higher each second another compliment is thrown at him.

Morro likes floating in the air, even if it’s just casually hovering or just sitting in the air he likes doing it. One time, Pixal dragged in a pile of vengestone to use for a project or something and this mf fell HARD on to the ground. As much as Pixal felt guilty, she would do it again since it helped her realise Morro was hiding some broken ribs.

Morro walks into doors, or walls, blinks, and walks away like nothing happened. (he’s trying to ignore Jay’s laughter)

After Morro and Wu reconciled and Lloyd and Morro began getting along he heard the two talking about how it would be cool if Morro could look more like Wu, just so people would stop calling Morro his ‘adopted’ son (thats his baby, nothing else) and so Lloyd doesn’t have to say Morro is just in his emo phase. As much as the convo was a joke, Morro took it seriously and the next day both Wu and Lloyd almost burst into either tears or shocked laughter when they saw the green streak was replaced by a blonde.

Morro actually isn’t emo, or goth, or punk. He’s all three at once and yet none at the same time. (Don’t be surprised when you see him wearing spiked bracelets and a pink shirt from Zane). To put it basically he has no fashion sense he just throws things together as long as it’s baggy and easy to deal with.

Edit: forgot to add, he’s old. This guy dresses like Wu and enjoys traditional clothing more than anything. He only wears anything different when going to the city and it’s still rlly baggy and basic. He somehow still rocks it.

Morro does not buy his own clothes, he just steals everyone else’s (Lloyd convinced him to do it with him.)

Even after Morro and Kai dealt with their issue they act like a toxic asian couple who are on the verge of divorce.

Cole likes to pick up the small members of the group, like Jay or Lloyd. Morro has become a victim and he bites.

He really likes reading. And history. After Lloyd introduced Misako to him they both got along so well they began sharing stories of Wu, Lloyd and Garmadon. All three are horrified at what those two know.

When Morro is floating in like a standing position, Nya likes falling out of the air or smth (she lowkey just appears) and falls on to his shoulder and stays there. Morro has learnt to accept his position as a chair.

Morro actually knows how to cook but doesn’t enjoy doing it, so Zane just kinda stares at him and pulls out something he knows Morro would want and suddenly you have two chefs with frilly pink aprons on. One is scowling as he beats the eggs and the other is smiling like he has no worries with sparkles and everything.

Morro has convinced the ninja one by one to join him in making a tornado out of each of their elements. Wu is not amused.

A lot of people headcanon Morro to not be able to do spinjitzu, so I say the reason behind that is because mini Morro was forbidden to do so by young Wu to use spinjitzu after he kept making tornados and the such and destroying part of the monastery. Morro unintentionally kept following it until one day he was asked by Lloyd why he never use it. Slowly but surely he came to the realisation it was Wu’s fault and pointed at him going like “IT WAS YOU!” And this old man was snorted into his tea. He forgot he forbade him.

When Morro gets resurrected he uses some sketchy magic book to summon Garmadon cause he was bored and wanted to someone to mess with (he missed his annoying uncle) (he called Lloyd in two second later and recorded him bursting into tears, both of them) (he froze and sweat dropped when he heard four armed Garmadon say something about his soul hurting last night.)

He’s like a hermit and a hobo combined.

As much as Morro can read, he can’t write, and as much as Lloyd can write, he can’t read. They join forces in deciphering scrolls.

Morro and Lloyd get along like burning trash. They happily cuss each other out and bully each other on a daily, they even call back to past traumas. Yet five seconds later Lloyd flops down onto a tired Morro and says “Hey do you wanna get ice cream with me? I found this place that i think would rlly suit your taste” and even after the both argue the whole time they take getting there the Lloyd actually was hoping Morro would like it because they had old man flavours. And even after Morro acts like he couldn’t care less and that Lloyd acts like a lil baby, he buys them both ice cream.

Okok im done i might do this for the other ninja i miss them ajgdjshs

[freyito]

you asked for gallagher asks and as an official gallagher simp and death denier i am here to oblige. how about gallagher finds someone flirting with reader while they were waiting for him and gallagher gets all pouty and jealous as he picks them up and takes them away bc theyre his partner dammit!! i am a firm gallagher is a clingy baby in a relationship believer

✭ pairing(s): gallagher x gn reader

✩ inspo: Real Man by beabadoobee

✧ a/n: i took a little bit of a different direction with this... but its still jealousy all the same :D!! i, too, think he's clingy... but also like scary dog privileges and all that yk...

also! i have a strawpage now!!! i mainly made it for my selfship blog (that i'm still regrettably working on) BUT ITS THERE!!! ITS A THING1!! and also ASKS ARE OPEN NOW!!! YAAAAAY!!! remember to read my rules for asks... and since this seems to be a common theme, i DONT write for fem reader :), just gn and male. i also dont answer nsfw asks on this account.

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, the guy is a creep, mentions of alcohol, guard dog gallagher -> puppy gallagher p much, not proofread

✎ wc: 1.4k

ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴍᴀɴ

He finds it laughable that some people would even try. Gallagher knows full well what the people of Penacony are like, and yet he never expected for such things to happen. Or, for him to get as jealous as he did. Even if it was clear that you were the apple of his eye, when you and him were very clearly having a nice little conversation– about a date, no less.

Now, he understands that a lot of people– even you, when he first met you– thought Penacony was the perfect paradise. Underneath all that glitz and glamour, though, it was the lowest of the low, the highest population was the sleazebags. Assholes who would swoop in and try and charm their way to your heart, only to run off with all manners of things you wouldn’t want to part with. Or, they would try to use you, take advantage of your better heart. The smarter ones stayed around the longest, sucked you dry of all your possessions, wealth, and even kindness, and left without a word to find their next victim to drain.

But the bolder ones of that population; those are the ones that truly pissed Gallagher off. Like the asshole in front of him, leaning in so close to you that you could smell the alcohol on his breath, hurling all sorts of pick up lines and sickening names at you that bordered on insults. There was no way this man was that bold. The fact that he’d look over at Gallagher every couple of seconds, the fact that he would even include Gallagher in such talk was horrendous.

‘You’ve got quite the fine catch, here.’

‘Come now, I ain’t as bad as he is, I promise.’

‘I can make all sorts of dreams come true, sweetie.’

‘I’m sure your man here wouldn’t mind sharing a little…’

If Gallagher wasn’t on the clock, he’d make sure this man would get his jaw rearranged. But he isn’t a brute, and he’s much more sophisticated than that. Though, he believes if he shows this man mercy, he’d go find some other poor soul to harass. Then again, it is also his job to make sure such things like this get punished. How unfortunate for this man to have no Bronze Melodia to read him his last rites.

With a superficial grin and barely restrained anger, he leans over the counter and catches the man’s attention. He doesn’t say much, if at all anything. He really only gives the guy a look, furrowed brows, a scowl, and the man quickly got up from his seat and ran off with his tail between his legs. 

Once Gallagher’s sure the man has given you two enough space (and is avoiding anyone else in the bar), he looks over at you with a much more docile, gentle smile.

“You alright, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice a low, near comforting purr. He reaches for your hand and takes it in his own, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“I’m fine,” You nod, “I just think he could definitely brush his teeth better.”

“Well, if you want me to kick him out, I don’t mind doing that,” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Or worse. Whichever you prefer.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I promise,”

“Okay, okay. But the offer still stands,” He looks back over to where the man ran off too, finding him huddled in a booth, as far as possible from the bar. Yet, the man was still nervously staring over at Gallagher, his earlier bravado completely dissipated. Gallagher meets his eyes for a moment, and he can see the man flinch.

You follow Gallagher’s gaze for a moment, before he cuts you off with a kiss to your cheek. You open your mouth to say something, but he catches your lips with his, pressing a borderline sensual kiss to your lips. You don’t protest, and melt into the kiss. You could ask yourself why he was doing this, seeing as he was a man who would stop PDA at holding your hand. Usually, the kinds of kisses were reserved for your privacy… or when he wants to make a point.

When you pull away, you feel your head spin a little. Gallagher chuckles and squeezes your hand, looking back over to the booth. Before he cna gauge the man’s reaction, he realizes that Siobahn has rounded to the bar. 

“Oh, shift change, perfect!” He hums, pulling away all too quickly to greet Siobahn and clock out. You raise your eyebrow as he does so, downing your drink and standing up. 

Normally, he finds an excuse to stay just a little longer, just one more drink, and so on. But now, he’s keen to leave. Which you don’t mind, but you can’t help but wonder why he’s like this. Either he wants to get off the clock as soon as possible so he’s not liable for what happens to that man, or he wants to whisk you away from that man’s sight and make sure you feel better. Both are quite endearing, in their own ways.

He rounds the bar counter, coming to your side and placing a hand on the small of your back. He ushers you out of the bar with a soft ‘c’mon’, making sure to stay close to you. You were practically hip-to-hip with him, every now and then his hand would reach for your shoulder and pull you in closer when someone looked at you for a second longer. It’s kind of cute, the way he’s protective of you. At the same time, he feels more like a clingy puppy, nosing his way into your hand when you give someone else too much attention.

When you two get home, Gallagher scoops you up in his arms with a grunt of effort, he makes his way to the couch. You don’t even have time to react, all your mind can come up with is a giggle as he sits down, setting you down in his lap. He wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your shoulder, hands splaying over your stomach.

“Mh, just like how it's supposed to be,” He murmurs, an air of… nostalgia in his voice?

“What do you mean by that?” You tilt your head, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. In turn, he hides his face in the crook of your neck, muttering something you can’t quite catch. His stubble paired with his words succeeds in only making you laugh, squirming in his arms.

“Noooo…” He whines pitifully, pulling you up closer against him, like your squirming was an attempt to get away. “Lemme just hold you. For a minute. Max. Please?”

“I never said you couldn’t, you’re just–” You squirm again, reaching up and cupping his face. “– making it impossible to sit still.”

“M’sorry,” He apologizes for no particular reason. After another moment of hiding in your neck, he finally pulls away and leans back against the couch. “Y’know… I could’ve punched him. Probably still can, bet that asshole’s still at the bar.”

“I told you it was fine, I’m fine,”

“I know, but the offer still stands. I could find him in an hour. Or less.”

“Well I appreciate the thought, but I’d rather you not resort to violence,”

Gallagher tilts his head further into your palm, looking back up at you as if to verify that what you said was true. You simply look down with a smile, and his face softens, accepting your answer.

“Okay. But you know if anyone does anything like that you can tell me, right? Even if I'm at work and you’re… shopping, or whatever, you can call me. I can play the hero. I’d like to, you know,”

You laugh and lean back scratching at his scruff. This earns you a soft ‘hmph’ in return, eyes closing with satisfaction. He’s happy if you’re happy, it’s always been this way. Gallagher knows the beauty he holds in his arms at this very moment, and that knowledge gives him quite the ego boost. He’s a humble man, and he always does his best not to let pride or anything of the sort go to his head. But he can’t help it when some people get too cocky, when he’s able to chase them away with just a look. Not that it was enough for him– clearly, he had to make his point– but there is a certain pride to keeping one’s lover safe, and letting someone so bold know just who your heart belongs to.

© freyito, 2025 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | strawpage | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[travelingmaster-inspirations]

His Point of View

I wasn't planning on using my 6 hour return flight home to recruit anyone, but once I saw the stunning beauty fate decided to sit next to me, I couldn't resist.

She was polite, but clearly entitled and it was evident from our brief exchange that she thought of herself as out of my league. I didn't mind though because it meant she didn't think twice about me and made a point to ignore me by putting on wireless noise canceling headphones once we were airborne. Her attitude allowed me to open up my computer and subtly prepare the file I hoped I would be able to have her listen to. Since she so perfectly ignored me, I couldn't use the typical 'hey want to listen to this track' excuse, but it turned out I didn't need to. About an hour into the flight, she excused herself to go to the lavatory.

Leaving her headset in her seat...

I took the opportunity to sync her headset to my computer and waited for her to return. Once she sat back in her seat, I savored her confused expression when instead of her own music, she heard bi-neural tones drift into her ears. The sound gradually increased, making her hand twitch up as if she wanted to remove the headset. However, her hand barely lifted a few inches before it settled back down on the armrest as the under-layer of specialized frequencies finally took hold of her brainwaves.

I watched the rest of her body relax in her seat, making it look as if she was simply settling down comfortably for the long flight. But in reality, the sounds she was hearing were making it impossible for her brain to form motor control signals, which effectively paralyzed her.

From the previous tests I conducted on myself, I knew that this first part was rather unpleasant because the sounds didn't make it impossible to think yet. Your thoughts become a slightly painful jumble of ideas as you try to move without success. I didn't panic because I already knew it was supposed to do that, but from her point of view, I could only imagine how bewildering it must feel.

After a while, I lifted her arm from the arm rest and watched it flop back to the seat without any sort of resistance. Having successfully passed the first hurdle, I cued the next phase and watched carefully for the tell tale signs of its effectiveness. As with the motor functions, it took a few seconds for her active thoughts to fall victim to the files' grip, but as expected, I watched her eyes glaze over and smiled. These frequencies felt a lot better than the previous ones so when someone experiences them one after the other, it becomes twice as effective. The sound waves target the part of the mind generally associated with a trance-like state and disrupts the higher cognitive processes, making it impossible to form your own ideas by constantly soothing any spikes of thought.

The experience was intensely relaxing...

I allowed the file to do its thing for almost half an hour to thoroughly massage her mind before I casually reclined her seat while I waited for an opportunity to close her eyes. Once I did and I thus confirmed that she couldn't react to outside stimulus, I cued up phase 3 as I casually confirmed to the passing flight attendant that my seatmate was taking a nap.

After all, it wouldn't do to have them wake her up before I was done...

Anyway, by that point her mind was under the full effects of the frequencies, which harmonized her mind to whatever inputs it experienced. As such, when my voice filled her ears with carefully chosen words, her mind would instinctively assimilate them and radically change its pathways to conform to the new ideas. The process took time of course, but thanks to our long flight home, that’s something we had in spades…

Her Point of View

The guy that sat next to me did a moderately good job of hiding his wandering eyes when I sat next to him so I did my best not to make a fuss about it. After all, it was a long flight and I had no desire to sit next to someone I had unloaded on for looking my way. Especially since he was such an average looking guy…

I made a point to put on my headphones as soon as I could and thankfully, he got the unspoken message that I wanted to be left alone. The flight went smoothly enough until I went to the lady’s room. After I sat back down, I put on my headphones but instead of my beats, I was puzzled to hear a set of odd tones. I looked at my phone, wondering what song I had mistakenly downloaded, and quickly realized that the song I was listening to before I got up was still paused. If it was paused, then what was I listening to?

The tones grew louder and louder, making it almost painful to listen to and very hard to think so I decided to remove them. However… My body suddenly became numb and felt so heavy that it felt impossible to lift my hand. The tones were so strong in my ears… It was like they were pushing against my brain and made it incredibly hard to do anything. The sensation was so weird!

But not as weird watching my seat mate casually lift my wrist a few inches, only to let it fall back on the armrest. My first stray thought was that he noticed something was wrong and was checking if I was ok! That made me happy! But then I noticed his smile and my joy turned to dread as I wondered how he could know that I was in trouble.

As he tested my other arm in the same way, the only conclusion my strained mind could come up with was that he knew exactly what was happening to me. And if he knew… He was probably the one responsible for what was happening! He confirmed as much when he turned and typed in a few lines on his laptop before looking back at me. My panic was, as intense as it was, very short lived as the sounds blasting in my ears shifted and made me feel like I wanted to nod off and sleep. I couldn’t allow myself to do that so I tried to fight off the drowsiness. But the more I did, the less I remembered why it was important to fight what my body obviously wanted. In fact, it was hard to remember anything specific as the sounds seemed to wash away any idea or thought I could have. Before long, there was no reason to fight… No reason to resist… There was only the soothing soundscape in my ears that lulled me into blissful sleep.

Only… I wasn’t asleep… Not really…

I was in limbo… Floating peacefully in the sounds that became my entire world. It felt so good… So relaxing… I couldn’t help but give myself to its current and follow along as a voice began to whisper words that sank right past my awareness and drifted down into my brain. They became my only thoughts… My only foundations are to form ideas of my own as they built themselves from the ground up.

The experience eventually ended and part of me wished to continue basking thoughtlessly in the sounds, but I knew that was not for me to decide. No… Only my… Master… Could decide something like that.

My Master… The thought sent a jolt of pleasure between my legs as my new self fully awakened to the reality around me. My eyes fluttered open and I was disoriented for a moment as I recalled being on a plane. I felt lost until I turned my head and saw the handsome man sitting next to me. I didn’t know this man at all and that worried me because I felt like my Master should have been sitting next to me.

But then, he spoke to me and something clicked inside my brain. There was no doubt in my mind that he was my Master! His voice was unmistakable and sent another jolt of pleasure down my spine. He asked me a few questions about who he was and what I was willing to do for him, which all felt really stupid to me because I was his slave and he could DEFINITELY do anything he wished with me. Thankfully, he seemed quite satisfied with my answers and after he checked how much was left for our flight, he told me to wait for about 5 minutes before joining him in the second lavatory so he could test my answers.

Let me tell you… Those were the longest 5 minutes of my LIFE because I couldn’t wait to join the mile high club with my Master!

[yuseirra]

Alien stage "Wiege" spoilers!

I jotted down some thoughts and analysis upon having watched that video! I really liked the song(listening to it now, too) I'm sure there are a lot of details to spot (for example I read a comment that Ruler of My Heart was indeed, Luka's love song toward Hyuna, that he had a doll with a groom and a bride on the table in that one scene he was sitting facing Hyuna's photo.. I'm sure there are plenty of things like that) what I want to talk about is more of the general stuff and character analysis.

If you think about it, Mizi and Luka were the two characters who had the least doubts about their situation at the start of the story.

Mizi even applied to join the Stage herself; she grew up with a lot of love and care, so she was quite bright and cheerful and very naive. But after enduring all sorts of hardships, she went through the biggest emotional transformation.

On the other hand, Luka was probably aware from the moment he was born that he was created to be used up like a disposable tool. Because of that, he never even had the space to question his circumstances.

In the midst of that, he met someone he truly loved, and that person became his reason to live—but now, they’re gone.

So now, for better or worse, he's in a situation where he has no choice but to change and step out of the "cradle" he had been confined to.

Ivan, Till, Hyuna, and Sua all had their own thoughts about their circumstances from the beginning of this story��whether it was resistance or doubt, they had some awareness of the problem.

On the other hand, Mizi and Luka, despite being on opposite ends of the spectrum, were both characters who never questioned the nature of the Alien Stage when they first appeared.

Mizi was completely ignorant of its brutality at first, and gradually learns the truth and changes as a result.

Luka, on the other hand, was so accustomed to and overwhelmed by the situation that he never even considered the possibility that things could be different.

That’s why these two, who started at opposite extremes, ended up meeting in the middle. One started from the very bottom as Challenger #1 and climbed up, while the other was at the top as a winner but has now lost everything. (Honestly, more than the stage itself, it really feels like Hyuna was the reason Luka was alive. I was surprised by just how much he cared—way more than I expected. It seems like he didn’t even realize what he did wrong, or that it was wrong at all. If he really did kill Hyunwoo, then maybe it's because he grew up in an environment where survival meant competing with his clones, so the idea that killing a person was wrong never even crossed his mind.)

So what happens next…? I don’t know, but I feel like Mizi is going to survive in the end.

That'd mean if it comes down to a fight between them, then Luka’s chances of survival would drop, right?

But looking at the song that just came out, are they even continuing Alien Stage? With the rocket and all, something big might happen, and they could both make it out alive. Maybe this song is setting up that possibility.

If Mizi’s arc involves not necessarily forgiving Luka, but at least reaching a point where she can acknowledge his existence, I find that would be pretty compelling. That’s an interesting direction to consider. And well, Hyuna really cared about him—she wanted him to live. I don’t think Mizi would want to kill anyone either. And she cared about Hyuna so would she have her efforts go to waste?

I think the best direction would be for Luka to start questioning his situation, leading to more development in that regard. And as for Mizi, how she chooses to view him is key. Personally, I’d rather see them meet in the middle, rather than Mizi simply taking him down—because in the end, they’re all victims of the system.

They don’t have to like each other, but more killing at this point would just be a loss for humanity. Wouldn’t that just be playing right into the hands of those who set up and control this stage? I think the right choice is to resist that.

That’s my take, but I wonder what'd happen.

Also, the way I described Hyuna’s feelings in one sentence was completely spot on. I remember phrasing her feelings towards Luka like this:

I think Hyuna actually liked Luka too, which is why facing him was so painful for her.

It wasn’t pure hatred—it was torment because, despite everything, there were still lingering feelings.

She couldn’t forgive him, but at the same time, she could see how much he cared about her. It was hard to say he acted with malice—he was too cheerful, too unaware of what he had done wrong. (That’s just how he was raised and he didn't even recognize he hurt her, did he? He just looked so happy and unknowing;)

The thing here would be that she couldn’t hate him entirely. And since she had always really liked him as well, it made things even harder.

Isn’t that what it was? In the end, her genuine feelings won out, and "even so, I still like you" became stronger than her hatred. In the end, the love out-won the hate..

She must have really liked him for it to come out that way. I did see it coming, at least partially-

So I wasn’t entirely surprised by Hyuna’s response. (What really surprised me initially was Luka’s reaction—he liked her so much that he literally couldn’t contain himself! But thinking about it, that was sort of always there..; although they kept from showing it this directly. His reaction reminds me of an overjoyed puppy who didn’t know what to do with itself. To see him get elated that much... wow.)

Seeing them going as far as married/engaged if things were to be normal was a surprise too, I figured they would have dated! I was so sure about that but marriage? Luka must have really pulled it off, huh? I hadn't imagined them actually settling down together, but it's great when canon sets things in stone lol. So they could have been that way! Great! ...and see what happened.

Out of all the characters, Luka seems like the purest one. He just doesn’t know. (and he's supposed to be the eldest one of the bunch;)

He looks experienced, but in reality, he’s never thought beyond the framework he was given.

But that’s because he was never allowed to in the first place. His life never gave him that option, so it’s partly a survival instinct.

Escaping that is like breaking out of an egg. Since he grew up in an environment where it was simply impossible to even consider another way of life, I do think his circumstances can be taken into account—but now, he’s at a point where he has to change.

Given the pace at which this story kills off characters, he might be gone in the next video, but if he does survive, I feel like his arc could lead to something really interesting.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Devil's Night: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: Halloween makes its way around again, and you and Spencer are preparing for the best holiday (according to Spencer). He keeps you busy with decorating while he makes arrangements of his own, arrangements that will completely change both of your lives for the better.

Season Six Masterlist

Author's Note: I know Devil's Night is usually the night before Halloween, but for the sake of this rewrite, Devil's Night is the weekend before.

x

You, Derek, and Emily head over to his house but there is no sign of Kaman. House is a loose word. It's more like a garage of some sort filled with gas cans, shelving units, and a small bed in the very corner. The only source of light comes from the very few lights strung about. You turn them on but they don't provide a lot of light here.

"It's like a cave," Emily comments.

"This guy hides out all year long. With burns like his, he's probably sensitive to light."

"And his own skin," Derek says. "Look around, there's not a mirror in sight. This guy doesn't want any reminder of what he looks like."

"There's nothing personal in here. For a planner like Kaman, tonight's abduction was irrational. He went on private property and took Chris with a witness present."

"Maybe he's finally starting to feel the pressure and he's reactive," Derek shrugs.

"It's more than that. He's meticulous. He'd have a plan if he got cornered. He'd have an endgame."

"He already killed the man he blames for his accident. The other victims are slights compared to that, and now he needs to hurt the person who hurt him the most. The one who drives all of this. The one who broke his heart."

"Who the hell is that?" you ask.

Al and Hotch were too late. Chris had already been set on fire. He ran into the middle of the road while on fire and died right there where everyone could see him. Al didn't have time to take Chris to a secondary location, so he abandoned the van that he used and fled the scene. He's on foot now.

Kaman targeted Chris because he was fired seven months ago. He killed Chris where he did because roadblocks prevented him from going into his comfort zone. The only things inside the van are welding equipment, cans of gasoline, and a cage. Without his car, Kaman is going to lie in wait until he can't anymore.

Then, he's gonna lash out again.

There has to be something in Kaman's garage that will tell you where he's going next. You lift his mattress but nothing is there. You lift his pillow and see a single notebook there. You open it and see multiple pictures of the same woman in there.

"Guys, I think I found something." Derek and Emily walk to your side. "A woman. I think this is a diary. He keeps mentioning the same woman over and over again."

"Jeez. We gotta find out who she is. If this guy's feeling cornered, all bets are off. Tonight's his last chance to get revenge on anyone who's ever wronged him. She's most likely his next target."

You take pictures of the woman, send them to Penelope, and then call her.

"Pen, I just sent you some photographs."

"What do you want to do with them?"

"Blow up the background and see if you can find anything that tells us who this girl is."

"I'll hit you back." You try to figure it out on your own but you don't have Penelope's skills. She calls back five minutes later with Hotch on the other line. "Friends, we're on a three-way."

"What's going on?" Hotch asks.

"Hotch, we found some pictures of Kaman's girlfriend at his place," you say.

"I blew up those pictures. In one of them, she appears to be in a restaurant, so I zoomed in on the sign that says 'O' apostrophe 'S'. I cross-checked that with restaurants in the area, and there are five diners. Three are in the suburbs, two are in Highland Park, and one is in Rivertown."

"What's the name?"

"Jay-mo's. This appears to be Kaman's and that girl's favorite place because all the pictures were taken there."

"Have you heard of Jay-mo's?" Hotch asks someone near him,

"It's a few blocks from here," Al answers.

"Good work, Garcia. We're on the way."

You, Derek, and Emily begin the drive to Jay-mo's knowing Al and Hotch will get there before you. Reports of a fire alert just went out from Jay-mo's which means Kaman is already there. Hotch and Al arrive first and immediately go inside to rescue the man who Kaman was trying to kill. Thankfully, they do, and you arrive just as Hotch pulls the man's body out of the burning diner.

"Hotch, you ran into a burning building?" Derek gasps.

"I didn't have a choice. Her name's Tracy. Kaman's trying to find her."

"That man put his life on the line to protect her. She means something to him."

"She means everything," Hotch adds.

You're already calling Penelope to give her the new information on the case. She looks more into the diner and the people who own it.

"Jay-Mo's real name is James Morris. He was married to Loretta Butler. They have one daughter, Tracy Anderson. She was born in 1987."

"Why does she have a different last name?" you ask.

"When James' wife died, his sister Susan Anderson adopted Tracy."

"Where is she now?"

"Ohio."

"No, he says she's nearby," Hotch says. "Where do the Andersons live?"

"Uh, Indian Village."

"That's three miles away."

"Let's go."

"Thanks, Pen."

While you're driving over to the house, you try to get Tracy on the phone. However, she isn't answering. The line is busy. Kaman is already there. There isn't a fire reported yet, but Al calls in medics and fire suppression just in case. Penelope looks deeper into Tracy and Kaman's relationship only to find out that Tracy got pregnant right before Kaman went into a coma. He doesn't even know he has a child.

"We're here," Al says once everyone arrives. The SWAT team is also in position, waiting for instruction. "Hold your position. We need a single rifle. I say again, all units, hold your position."

"Copy that." Derek pulls off to the side once he has Tracy's house in view. "This is the street." You look at Tracy's house and notice Hotch going inside the house... alone. "Hotch is going inside, and he's on his own."

"We should go after him, no?" you ask, worried for your boss.

"Hotch won't do anything to spin him," Rossi says.

"It's not Kaman I'm worried about."

"This isn't his first time at the dance. We gotta trust him on this."

You have no choice but to trust him, and he did what he was supposed to do. He got Kaman out without him hurting anyone else. All Tracy had to do was show him his son and that is what convinced Kaman to go to jail instead of burning the house down like he planned to do. Now that you got that out of the way, you plan for Spencer's birthday by first, setting up a nice candle-lit dinner inside your apartment the night that you get back from Detroit.

Spencer was told to stay in the bedroom while you got everything set up. Mozart is lightly playing through the old-timey record player Spencer got a few years ago, the dining table is set with a white cloth, flowers you bought before you left for Detroit, fake candles everywhere to create a romantic glow, and three presents you got last month wrapped so prettily.

"Okay, Spencer, you can come on out now," you call out. The bedroom door opens and Spencer walks into the main room. "Happy birthday."

"Wow, this looks amazing."

"I made you your favorite. I got the recipe online so I hope I made it right."

"I'm sure it's delicious," he grins.

Spencer loves Indian food so you made sure to find an authentic recipe that involves everything he likes. You and Spencer sit across from each other and immediately dig in, and he moans at how delicious the food is.

"Seriously, you did a great job."

"Thanks, baby," you grin. "So, I was thinking about something. Maybe we should plan a trip to see your mom. I know she misses you a lot and I think it would do her some good if she saw us. I mean, I don't know about staying an entire week but I don't see an issue with staying a weekend."

"Look, I gotta tell you something and it can't wait," Spencer cuts you off.

"Okay."

Spencer remembers Derek's words loud and clear. Just speak from the heart. Okay, here goes nothing.

"You have no idea how happy you have made me. When I first saw you walk onto that plane for the very first time, do you remember what you said?" You shake your head with a smile. "You said, 'Sorry, but I've read everything you have ever written especially Identifying Non-obvious Relationship Factors Using Cluster Weighted Modeling and Geographic Regression. You have a very intelligent mind.'"

"I wasn't lying," you smile.

"I thought... Wow. How can someone so beautiful and smart ever want to talk to me? I often find myself thanking Gideon for giving me those tickets for the drive-in theater we went to. I don't think I would have found the courage to ask you out if it wasn't for him. We have been through so much and I know we're going to go through so much more... I want you there through it all right by my side."

Spencer reaches into his breast pocket inside his jacket and pulls out a small black ring box. The fork you're holding drops to the table, making a loud clanging noise as it hits the ceramic plate. Spencer gets up from his chair only to kneel on one knee right in front of you. Tears immediately spring to your eyes but you try not to let them fall.

"Spencer..."

"You're my best friend, the love of my life, and I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me. Will you marry me?"

"This is supposed to be your birthday," you cry.

"Marrying you is the best present I could ever get. So, will you marry me?"

"Yes," you giggle and hold your hand out.

As soon as Spencer slides the ring onto your finger, you pull him in for a kiss. Both of you stand and embrace each other. The high you're feeling right now is like none other because you can now start to plan the rest of your life with Spencer by your side. You slide your tongue into his mouth only to pull away seconds later.

"Is this why you and Derek have been acting weird?"

"I needed his help," Spencer shrugs shyly.

"I'm gonna be Mrs. Reid," you giggle happily and kiss him once more.

Frank wants nothing more than to go over to your apartment and beat the ever-living shit out of Spencer. No one touches what's his. Clarissa has always said he had a bad temper when things don't go his way and she's been trying to get him to work on thinking before acting out. Frank leans back in his seat and clenches his hands by his side.

Think, Frank, think. Frank could storm into your apartment and steal you away from Spencer, but that would only put the FBI on his ass and ruin everything he's worked so hard for. No, he can't do that. The only other option is to wait and come up with a plan. Frank wants you. It's as simple as the day he first saw you. Big beautiful eyes, such soft and supple skin. You're in every one of his fantasies and he's not going to let someone like Spencer take that away from him.

No, if he's going to separate the two of you, he has to get creative... even if it means punishing himself to do it. Frank grabs his phone and dials the one person who he knows will get him out of this alive.

"Frank, I was wondering when you'd call."

"You knew this day was coming."

"I've been counting down since you gave me one of your kids. Two of them, in fact. Such pretty little girls."

"Yes, I bet they're gorgeous." Frank rolls his eyes. "Listen, I need to cash in my favor."

"What do you need?"

"Let's just say I might be visiting you a lot sooner than I wanted. You know Y/N?"

"Who doesn't? All you do is brag about her."

"Yeah, well, she's engaged now and that just won't do. I think it's about time she finally knows who I am."

"Are you sure about that? You're going to go to prison for a very long time."

"That's where you come in. Are you still as good as they say you are or should I go with someone else?"

"You know I'm the best," the man smirks. "Don't worry. You sort your shit out and I'll make sure your cell will be ready for you when you get here."

Frank smirks and hangs up soon after before watching you and Spencer celebrate on camera. You have no idea what's coming for you...

"Love feels no burden, thinks nothing of its trouble, attempts what is above its strength, pleads no excuse for impossibility, for it thinks all things are lawful for itself and all things are possible." - Thomas A. Kempis

x

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[sunshowersanddandelionwine]

Hi regarding your Haunts post. It was so cute! Ghost got immediate brownie points for taking care of Soaps sister, I hope the rest of the group leave needing a change of cloths.

Haunts are usually seasonal right? (Idk I’m not American) So Ghost could be working at it whilst on leave as a favor or it could be one of those community outreach/recruitment things the army sometimes hosts or a family fair/expo they also attend.

What would everyone’s costumes be?

Would there be a competition on who could get the most scares? (Excluding ghost) who would win?

If Soap joined Ghost the next year would they do a couples costume?

Anyway cool post thank you for sharing it.

thank you!!! :D and yeah, ghost might be dressed as a crazed masked killer but hes not gonna just let this kid sit in the middle of a dark maze with a bum ankle lol he might play a monster but hes not actually one. and while its against policy to stalk guests through the whole grounds (something something harrassment something something liability blah blah blah), price lets this one slide because he heard maggie backstage and was very much not impressed. gaz and roach might have joined ghost in the stalking. just a little ^-^

and yeah, most haunts (at least in the US) are seasonal! they typically run from sometime in september through halloween or occasionally early november. there are a few year round houses thought! a local haunt in my city actually runs all year, and its located inside a mall! but youre right, he could just be on leave for a month or so to help out with community outreach! i think id want the rest of the riley family to be alive in that case just so he and tommy could cause a ruckus together XD

as for costumes... i definitely see ghost as a slasher villain type character, sort of in the veins of jason voorhees or michael myers. its probably cliche but i think it fits the vibes! gaz would kill (hee hee) as a vampire, either in just stage makeup or full special effects and prosthetics. price is probably either a werewolf or in a ghillie suit for jumpscaring. nikolai doesnt work as a scare actor himself (he works backstage) but if he was forced to, hed want to be a victim lol. laswell is a mad scientist type, no question. roach pulls of a zombie way too well. once she joins the haunt, maggie would be a slasher too as ghost's protege. (dont tell anyone but he teared up a little when she told him.) if soap joined the team, hed probably work backstage with nik, and like nik he'd want to be a victim XD

oh for sure theres a competition for the most scares, and theres also a competition for the most creative scares! like you said, ghost wins the most scares almost every year, but roach has come very very close many times! hes a sneaky little bug, and he always catches people completely off guard :D the most creative scare the last year went to nikolai, who did some wizardry with the lights and sound effects and nearly gave price a heart attack.

a trophy is waiting for anyone who manages to scare laswell. no one has ever been able to claim it skfjhsdlkfhsdl

OHHHH ABSOLUTELY GHOAP WOULD!! i love that :DDD i think the whole haunt has a costume contest for the end of the season afterparty, and its the most ridiculous thing ever. ghost gets soap to come as his plus one, and its adorable! idk what their costumes would be tho so if anyone has suggestions please let me know!

[newrhys]

im insane and a nigel defender for life so heres my theory/take on like minds

i truely think that its likely Alex was the manipulator and nigel was the victim (to a degree).

this is kinda all over the place and just my thoughts so take everything with a grain of salt im just bored

we all agree that Alex is an unreliable narrator, and when it comes to the interrogation, it would but likely that Alex changed the story for a “solid” alibi to seem at least not guilty, which is very common behavior for people, especially younger people who have committed a crime to do.

most of my reasoning for this comes from the fact that he makes sure to include the detail that *somehow* nigel got into his room in the middle of night (assumably) and put a bloody knife and playing card on his desk.

it could be very likely that he had this whole alibi, that he "missed" his date with susan was entirely made up, that he made it seem like nigel was the one who planted the knife for "for fingerprint insurance” making nigel seem like this criminal mastermind to a degree.

that and also the hand that nigel “gifted him” could have also been a cover up for (maybe) that alex could have very likely been the reason why his friend let go of the train, by messing with his hand. idk on this one tho for sure honestly, though i feel like nigel care a lot about anatomy and dissection that it would be out of character for him to sever a hand.

AND that when alex was asked “how he was sure it was his friends” he said that it wouldnt make sense otherwise (or something along those lines) which honestly is kinda strange bc i would rather rationalize that its not my dead friends hand and just some fucked up prank but maybe thats just me.

you can look into real interrogations and its not unusual for people to make up these crazy complex and wild stories to victimize themselves to seem innocent, even when the story is strange or off putting or has holes.

especially because this is a time when the attention is all on them and what better way to ganer sympathy and attention that alex could have possibly lacked in his childhood then now in the interrogation. with someone who alex could have possibly seen as some sort of mother figure, because she listened to him, and embraced him when alex talked about nigel.

“well susans body was “disected” it had to be nigel” it could have also been alex copying in the way of something that nigel would have done to again, make the evidence point at nigel.

now, this theory is a bit spotty and honestly its not great I KNOW its just my thoughts ive had that ive wanted to share, because honestly i dont have a great reason for why nigel would have invited alex over to his house if not for nigel being a little shit, but who knows, that could have also been made up, and alex really was planning on killing nigel, and just happened to show up at that time

but that being said, im also not saying nigel has never killed anyone, i am just saying alex’s series of events is a bit weird, i do think nigel has some issues, but those probably due to the obvious abuse he as suffered as a kid, and his weird interest could be a symptom of that and his curious for dead things, i wouldnt be surprised if he had witnessed death early as a child seems how it was mentioned in the show that it can result in mental illness.

which kinda leads me to my next point, at the end, when alex totally doesnt kill nigel, and nigel kills himself, alex has a sort of smile at the end, that either he was happy nigel died or that he, really *did* kill nigel and he “enjoyed” it.

to add onto this, alex never really cried when he talked about his friends dying, he cried when he talked about how it made *him* feel and how when nigel had wanted him to get “freaky” per say with susan, he was crying in the interigation because it upset *him* and it was something bad that happened to *him*. im not a professional at all and i only know a little bit about mental illnesses but in certain personaility disorders,, its not uncommon for people to have intense feelings when it comes to something that effects themselves, and apathy towards other people.

and at the very end of the show, it shows that alex clearly has a pattern of this behavior, of manipulating people in certain ways. that its not something unusual for him to do, when he asks the teacher if it’s possible to get into someones head, its likely because hes the one who, atleast thinks, he has control of nigel.

anyways thats kinda just my collection of thoughts ive had about this movie for a long time so i thought id throw them out here, do with this as you wish. dont be too mean tho i am dyslexic and not the smartest lmfao. i just like yapping. obviously i dont know everything and i likely got information wrong which like whatever.

anyways im sick and bored and wanted to yap so maybe someone actually read this

[gyumibear]

💖 create a sim(p)! — 25: rough

synopsis — after stupidly claiming on stream that you’ve been dating popular youtuber choi beomgyu in secret after accidentally creating an identically looking sim, you beg him not to reveal your lie to the public when it goes viral. weirdly, he agrees and you two begin to fool the public. can your lie become the truth or will it eventually catch up with you?

prev / masterlist / next

warnings — swearing + heavy angst, bad coping mechanisms, yn's not thinking things through. allusions to “suicide”, but there’s no suicide. (wc: ~1.4k)

It was like time had stopped.

Your eyes were glued to the screen in front of you, the blue light reflected in your eyes. Long had the screen gone black, evidence of the ended stream in front of you. You could vaguely feel Yeonjun’s presence next to you, but the ringing in your ears subjected you to only be able to stare forward. 

Why. Why? Why?!

Beomgyu. Why would he- why? It was so hard to fathom; what could he have been thinking? Did he really think everything would be fixed after that? That everything wouldn’t fall apart even more than it already had?! Now, you were off even worse than before.

He was selfish.

So unbelievably selfish. Because he couldn’t ‘keep up the charade.’ No. He wasn’t selfish. He was a fucking liar. A manipulator. Going out of his way to make sure that everything would leave him looking like the victim. The way he worded the stream, blaming everything on you. The fake dating had been your idea, yes, but he was just as involved! He didn’t have to agree! He could’ve fucking said no! No, he only sold you out because… Because… Because?

You didn’t know.

“Hey…” Warmth enveloped your torso, Yeonjun’s strong, assuring arms wrapping around you. “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen.”

You just let him drag you along, not having the mental capacity to fight back.

He released you when you plopped into the barstool of the hotel’s island counter. Crossing behind the other side of the island, he reached into the fridge to find something. You didn’t know what. You weren’t exactly focused on the black-haired model in front of you. You were too occupied calling Beomgyu every negative adjective conceivable in your head.

A crisp bottle of water slid in front of you, your eyes unfocused on its shape.

“You should drink this. Tears cause dehydration, you know…” Yeonjun spoke softly from somewhere in the room.

You were crying? You hadn’t noticed.

“I’m really sorry, Yn…” He kept speaking, barely making it past the ringing. “He’s so… Stupid.”

Stupid was an understatement.

“How bad is it?” Your own strained voice.

“How bad is what?”

“The backlash… Am I trending?”

“I don’t know… Don’t worry about that right now.”

“What am I supposed to worry about then, Jun? My career… Shit, what am I supposed to do to fix it? Everyone thinks I’m a liar. A user.”

“Not everyone.” Arms again around your body, you nuzzled your back into his chest. “We can fix this.”

“We?” You asked. “Jun, you don’t have to help me. We barely know each other.”

“That doesn’t matter. You’re my friend… And this is sort of my fault.”

No. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but Beomgyu’s.

“If I hadn’t gotten so close to you–”

“Can we talk about something else… I just– My head is pounding.”

A lie. You currently felt nothing. But, you didn’t want Yeonjun to have to dwell on feelings that were not his fault. Nobody was to blame for this, but Beomgyu. He was the problem. He was the cause.

“Drink your water.” He scolded you lightly, “I told you tears cause dehydration…”

–

“We came straight here.” Soobin stepped into view before your vision became obscured.

Kai threw himself at you, his familiar hold making you tear up once again. He squeezed you firmly, but not enough to hurt. Just enough to comfort. He murmured apologies, ones he shouldn’t be making, holding you as you’d disappear into the ground if he let go of you just for a second. You had a feeling he’d be mother-henning you for the next few days if he wasn’t stopped. 

You didn’t think you’d argue against that. Not right now anyway.

“Thank you for taking care of her.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” Yeonjun responded in kind, “You must be Soobin.”

Soobin nodded, pointing slightly in your direction. “And that’s Kai.” 

When Kai finally let you breathe, you pulled back enough to see that his eyes were red. Probably matching yours. But his face wasn’t streaked with tears, not like yours. That led you to the conclusion that he probably hadn’t slept since the stream came out. Oh, Kai…

“Ning, have you slept?” 

“No. How could I?” He pursed his lips before speaking again. This time not to you. “What do we do?”

“We go home,” Soobin shrugged. “We kick that… We kick him out. Then you and Yn get some rest.”

You and Kai nodded solemnly, both not wanting to argue.

“I hate to ask, but can I come? I feel like I and Beomgyu have a lot to talk about.”

“Mm.. ‘s up to you.” Soobin shrugged again. “As long as he gets out of my house.”

You felt like the next few hours might take some years off your life.

–

Coward.

He was a coward. That was what your mind told you when the four of you had made it to your front door. The house was intact, doors locked securely. But… There was a sticky note, most likely from your room, left right dab smack in the middle of the door. It read: I’m sorry. I took all my stuff and I got a motel. I know you don’t want to speak with me, that’s okay. I’ll be going home soon anyway.

“Well, that’s that I guess.” Yeonjun broke the silence, all of you turning to look at him.

“Maybe it’s better off this way.” Soobin turned to unlock the door for you all. “I don’t think anyone was really ready for a confrontation.”

You stumbled into the apartment behind him, Kai and Yeonjun taking up the rear. Everything inside was normal too. Nothing out of place or taken, not that you thought he would steal. However, you thought bitterly to yourself, you thought Beomgyu wouldn’t do a lot of things. Clearly, this time of you getting to know him was a waste. God, you had the worst case of judgment sometimes.

“So what now?”

The boys started chatting, trying to figure out the next move. You tried your best to listen along, but you just… couldn’t. The longer you stood there, the more your mind was being made up. Soon, you excused yourself from the circle, complaining of a headache. ‘Just going to lie down.’ You spoke. Their worried eyes bore into your back as you disappeared into your room.

You were going to crumple into your bed, but your tired eyes noticed something first. A letter. It was laid neatly on your bed, words written almost neatly, but also as if whoever had written them was rushed. You were going to ignore it, but you knew your curiosity would win. It was a human thing.

You picked it up, letting your eyes glide over the words. Face neutral, your eyes took in every word but widened over time as an indescribable rage filled you. You got to the last line of the letter, letting you know who had written you this bullshit of a final letter. ‘Love, Beomgyu.’ 

You crumpled it into a ball, throwing it into a corner of your room. Full of shit. He was full of shit. How could you have ever thought he could’ve really meant something to you? He was nothing.

And soon, /you’d/ be nothing too.

You made your way over to your computer, typing in the website for your streams. Scrolling until you found what you were looking for, your eyes bore into your screen. It was like time was moving slowly again, as your conscious tried desperately to get you to stop before making the worst decision of your life. But, you were determined to finish this. 

You had to. You couldn’t back down. You clicked your mouse once, mind made up.

The recording light lit up, letting you know you were now live.

As your chat filled, you heard an audible sound of confusion come from your living room. You forgot Kai had your streaming notifications on. You had to move quicker than he could get to you. You ran to the door, locking it before your friends could come to stop you. 

You could hear the banger from the door. You could hear them. Soobin loudly asking what you were doing. Kai begging you to open the door. Yeonjun pleading that you stop recording and come out the door. You couldn’t let them stop you. Not this time. You knew you might regret this, but soon /you/ wouldn’t be around to care.

“Hi.” You spoke bluntly into the camera. “Welcome to DigitalGirl’s final stream.”

a/n — so... how y'all doing? *sips tea* um, i’m not exactly good at writing super angsty stuff, but i hope y’all still enjoyed! anyways, what do y’all think the letter said? and what do you think yn’s gonna do/say in her “final” stream? lmk!

© GYUMIBEAR. do not repost, modify or translate my work onto other social media sites.  

[poorlemons]

For Clear Image Michael:

Is her body facing trouble after being in the Distortion? How's that holding up for her as time goes by? (I know we discussed a bit but I'd love to see you elaborate)

Also, how has she reacted to the loss of people she knew before the Distortion? (e.g. Gertrude, Gerry (from what I recall you had them know each other? I could be wrong), maybe OG Elias, her old cat...)

How's our favourite lady coping in this day and age with the world? Opinions on capitalism? Maybe the coffee shops are under new management and don't know her order anymore? What's a newly discovered pet peeve regarding fashion, or traffic?

Has she ever known how to drive? If so, would she consider getting a car or is a bike good enough? (Tall person on bike hmmmmm)

ohh good questions good questions!

yeahh!! she's absolutely facing troubles. I cant imagine your bones being rearranged by some eldritch entity feels particularly nice! First and foremost is the fact that she's definitely aching all the time. Usually smthn dull and in the background, but its There. Her body isn't used to being set up like a... well, normal human being, and it physically protests it. I feel like things do get dislocated easier, i mean, all of her bones being in her hands b/c no bones anywhere else is going to cause issues. And her hands- those ones are big problem children, I don't think they're still 100% right on the inside, stuff shifts and gets locked up and a bunch of other painful shit. she mitigates that with compression gloves, physically holding her hands together as they should be. honestly she probably has a good few braces for herself depending on what decides its not real at any given day. I also think her vision got Way worse. Its just all sorts of wrong, she has very thick glasses now. And i do think she's more prone to headaches and stuff like that, bright lights, flashing images, strong smells, it all can set off a headache. One fun trait she has now has sharper senses (ignoring eyesight) in general. this is fun in some cases and not so fun in others. The hallways were designed to be sensory overload n confusing and whatever and her body kinda adjusted to be able to parse out things through that. Also she's a bit taller, as a treat

2. Loss... oh i think that one is conflicting to her. I think at first, she doesn't really... register it? She'd been something Else for so long that the passage of time and the *changes* hadn't settled in for her yet. But after a little while... and a little while of settling back into the archives, it really hits her. and i don't think she really understands how she feels. Specifically about Gertrude. Gertrude is definitely a touchy subject for Michael. I think she has a lot of anger harbored in her towards the old Archivist, and obviously for good reason. But I don't think she has the energy to be truely angry, she is *so* tired. Michael held Gertrude dear, they'd worked together for so long. Its like a hollow rage and sadness mixed together into to form numb acceptance. It happened, nobody stopped it, she couldn't have stopped it, so she just... gives up on the directionless anger. Clearly it wasn't getting her anywhere. Is this healthy? probably not but she has issues, OK? Maybe it wasn't familial or friendship, but Gertrude was a persistent *presence* in her life. there was trust there, and it was ruthlessly thrown aside. which leads me into my next thought. Michael absolutely has like. attachment issues now, hands down. Gertrude used her trust against her, Emma kept her ignorant, anyone remotely nice to her down in the archives fucking died, she was literally the embodiment of lying and fake friends and shit for a while- oh she's not going to be going into any relationship easily. Sure she'll interact with people and stuff, she is so desperate to have *people* around her again, not just victims to the Distortion. But they're at an arms length, yknow? She's weary around a lot of people, Basira kinda reminds her of Gertrude, Tim has a painfully recognizable anger and grief, Melanie is angry but in a way that's normal-scary... but i think, i think she has an interesting dynamic with jon, and eventually the others, probably but that's not what this section is about. Uhh no she doesn't know Gerry. Sorry all you doorkeay/gerrymichael enjoyers. I like my michaels miserable, lonely and despondent. If the Distortion every hung out with Gerry (like in my bookeater au) uhhh I don't think that really translated much to Michael Shelley's feeling on him. She's distantly aware of him, and feels very bad for him, as Eric's son, but it wouldn't have been *her* that knew him. It was the Distortion. OG elias... that one confuses her. Elias getting bodysnatched is baffling to her. They probably smoked together once or something but that would have been decades ago. She can't even feel any grief or anger because its just so perplexing. Like. Genuinely what the fuck is even going on anymore. HONEYCOMB..... fuck... FUCK.... she misses her cat SO MUCH!! its who she grieves the strongest. Like, that was her baby and she LEFT HER!! Actually agonizing for her, she breaks down crying over that one. That was her one true, honest companion, everyone else used her, but Honeycomb just loved Michael with all her little heart could muster. And Michael *left* her. Even if it wasn't her choice fully, she still feels that guilt.

3. Poorly. She is coping poorly. She has no money, no ID, no home, and not cat. Michael is doing Badly. No one really remembers her (but maybe, just maybe like, one or two staff members in a coffee shop- or a regular or smthn- do and it literally means the world to her. Maybe i will make Michael some outside-the-institute friends) and the world has moved on without her. In a way, she is displaced in time without ever having to discover time travel. Modern trends are absolutely lost on her, and also on me so I cant even begin to think of what bothers her. Though she's also in her like, 40s so honestly nobody bats too much of an eye at her not keeping up with the youthes. Also she will always have beef with capitalism. Shit is wild.

4. Do not put her behind a wheel, the poor thing has anxiety. I just... can't imagine she'd do well with that, even before the distortion. Michael would absolutely choose to struggle with a bike over having to drive, she's stubborn like that. And post-distortion, with how easily she gets overwhelmed by stuff, I think it'd be a bad idea.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Y'know, if Lila was just a one-off character for Volpina and we never saw her again, a few tweaks in that episodes writing could have made it a good lesson about not letting your temper get the best of you, even in a situation where your anger is justified

This is in reference to the post where I discussed how terrible Volpina's lesson is and I agree with the proposed change. If Marinette has to be in the wrong here, that's the only way to make it kind of work. In fact, this is what I thought the episode was trying to do on my first watch. When the next season started with Lila gone, I thought, "Okay, so that episode was supposed to be about being the better person and having a more measured response when you've been wronged. I don't think it did that lesson super well, but I can see what they were going for and we'll give them some grace. Definitely one that I wouldn't just give to a kid, though. Way too high a risk of them internalizing a very wrong message."

I only gave the writers that grace because I assumed that Ladybug had truly humiliated Lila out of Paris off screen (remember, we only see Ladybug out Lila to Adrien even though Lila was lying to everyone) and that is a pretty extreme punishment for a teenager making a dumb choice. Even then, saying that Ladybug was in the wrong feels a little too victim blame-y for my tastes. Lila was the one telling the lies and using Ladybug's name for clout on a city-wide scale or possibly even a national/international scale depending on the Ladyblog's viewership. By telling those lies, Lila was harming Alya's credibility and presenting herself as a sort of authority on Ladybug, a position that she was going to use to her advantage as we saw with her manipulating Adrien. She was also putting herself at risk if Gabriel or other villains believed the lies and saw her as a way to get to Ladybug.

That means that the lies Lila told aren't exactly minor, victimless crimes like the lies Marinette and Adrien tell to hide their identities. Lilia's lies needed to be outed on the same scale that they were broadcast and there's no kind way to do that. It's going to have a brutal edge no matter how pretty the words are.

There are times when it's right to be "the better person" and let a thing go, but it's hard to view this as one of them because this was not a nuanced situation. There was no reasonable option other than issuing a public retraction and Ladybug didn't even go that far! She had a single, private confrontation with Lila and then let the matter rest. A better version of this episode might see Alya and Marinette giving a really mean retraction on the Ladyblog that they then feel bad about because they should have been more professional, but that's about it as far as possible improvements go.

If we look at what the episode actually gave us, it feels like another Gamer situation. An episode that blames Marinette for impure motivations while ignoring anyone else's faults, creating a nonsense moral that just makes me mad. Ladybug-is-wrong-for-confronting-the-liar-for-impure-reasons is certainly a take. It's just not one that I'm ever going to agree with. To give a recent, real-world example, do people really feel that James Somerton was the wronged party because his many, many lies and instances of plagiarism were outed in a brutal public takedown? (Context part 1 & part 2, though part 2 is the one to watch if you only want to see why letting lies from respected sources go unchecked can be so messy.)

To be clear, I don't think that Lila's lies were Somerton bad in Volpina, but they were starting to go down that road and they arguably reached Somerton levels by season five. Fakes identities, almost getting Marinette expelled, using her lies to get social power from Gabriel, the list goes on, which is yet another reason to hate Volpina. Its nonsense moral is a big part of why Lila could do all of that. Ladybug should have outed Lila! Society suffered and will continue to suffer because she didn't. That's why you have to stop misinformation as soon as you possibly can, but that wasn't actually the moral of Volpina. The moral was that Ladybug was in the wrong for being mean to the liar. Maybe if she'd been nicer, then Lila wouldn't be so evil now which is a very gross moral! Volpina really does feel even more victim blame-y now that Lila is the new big bad.

That's a good segue to circle back and finish off my original topic: I gave the writers grace for Volpina until Lila returned and established that she'd never been publicly outed. At that point, Volpina lost any chance at me giving it charity. The lesson was worse than I thought and I was fully justified in hating it. It's one of the ones I use when I explain why I wouldn't want a child getting into Miraculous because the problem with Volpina's moral is pretty straightforward.

[maple-the-awesome]

You Sacrifice Yourself for Them Part 2/3

Part 1 || Part 3

Pairings: Four, Hyrule, & Warrior x GN Reader

Requested by anonymous: HIIIII OMG I JUST WANRED TO SAY i lovelovrloveloveeeee the way you write so much!!!!!!! ur recent loz post had me kicking and squealing in my sear hehehe T_T could i request a scenario with the chain in a situation where the reader sacrifices themselves to protect the boys? im imagining things begging the enemy to take them instead, protecting them from a hit or even something funny like taking the blame for a mistake they made!!! id love to see some angst from you!!!!! THANK U AND HAVE A GREAT WEEK!!!!!💖💖💖💖

Zelda Masterlist 💙 Fandom Masterlist

A surprise attack - that's what had awaited the group. They had their guards only slightly down, still keeping an ear for danger, yet that didn't do much to protect them from the onslaught of monsters who soon surrounded everybody faster than anyone could draw their swords.

It wasn't a huge deal at first, at least for ten seasoned heroes. They've been in troubling situations before, both during their own journeys and when together, so they all know how this sort of thing works, in fact some were even having fun with it, making a competition out of how many enemies they could each take down. Then everything went south - fast, too.

That troublesome lizard the Chain has been tracking for weeks - or has it been months now? - appeared without a sound onto the battlefield, going successfully unnoticed amongst the chaos as he creeped through the shadows waiting for an opportunity to strike. Everyone had gotten pretty spread out from each other, pushed apart by their enemies not that they took the time to notice nor worry. This meant the lizard could've realistically chosen anyone as his victim, it was dumb luck that his eyes landed upon Four who was finally beginning to break a sweat as he tried to one-up a Moblin.

Maybe a second passed between that Moblin disappearing into purple smoke and a blur entering his vision. All Four knew for certain was that he just barely blocked the lizard's sword which had been swung his way with such force that it knocked him off his feet. He's been knocked down before, though, and planned to fight without hesitation until -

"- GET AWAY FROM HIM!" It was you. Four didn't even realize you were so close and before he could object, you were engaged in your own little battle with that lizard, successfully drawing its attention away from your downed friend, however your efforts were not without cost. 

You got hurt. Bad, too (although Four would say any injury is horrid if felt upon your skin). You were thrown to the ground just like he had, the difference being you weren't as fortunate as to block the lizard's sword, rather taking a direct hit which sent you crumbling to your knees. Any other day, Four would've been amazed by your determination when you still tried to stand your ground with a wobble, but it was no time to be in awe of your skill. He doesn't doubt that if it wasn't for Warrior and Twilight taking on the lizard next, you wouldn't have won that battle you so desperately fought.

Now Four feels as if his breath is caught in his throat while he stands by, helplessly watching as Hyrule heals you. You're in better spirits than he thinks you should be, awake and alert, but winching in hissed breaths whenever moving too quickly. He can't help feeling responsible for this, cursing himself for not having seen that lizard earlier. If he had, he would've been able to hold his own ground better, giving you no reason as to rush in so suddenly. Of course, you have a different outlook on the situation:

"I hope you aren't kicking yourself too hard over there, Smithy," It's like you can read his mind - or perhaps you can just read his facial expression. You raise an eyebrow at him almost teasingly as if your tunic isn't stained in your own blood, "I was the one who decided to jump in, you didn't ask me to - and I'd do it again if it means you're safe, just so you know."

Four huffs from where he sits mere inches away from you. Simply happy to see you alive, he didn't have time to care about the fact that he’s been holding your hand nonstop since first getting you out of the fray which had been a good ten minutes ago, "Shouldn't I be the one saying that, not the other way around? What is this, the second time you've saved my butt?"

"I don't think you almost falling off a stool counts," You argue, but after a moment of thought, you give his hand a squeeze, your voice a bashful whisper, "...And who says we can't both say it, hmm? Both be willingly to protect each other with our lives?"

"Because then it would be contradictory - If I'm willing to die for you and you're willing to die for me, then we'd both die" 

"At least we'll still be together.”

Four frowns, but to your surprise, he proposes no argument. He instead nods eventually, squeezing your hand back as he looks off across camp in silent thought, “...I guess that’s logical. I’d just prefer we stay together in life, though.”

"You guys are sappy as hell."

"Shut up Legend."

You've had a well deserved afternoon of peace - at least the best you can probably wish for given the circumstances. You don't necessarily have a lot of scented soaps on hand or even access to a proper bath for that matter, and despite being near a town, you’ve been rationing your rupees since it’s slim pickings collecting them from only monster drops and those clay pots everyone fights over. Still, you did manage to sneak away from all the boys for some time alone, soaking in one of the nice little hot springs found around Death Mountain.

Still patting your hair with your now damp towel, you wander back into camp with dreams of a pleasant meal to finish your day with, after all this is Wild's universe, so you would think he'd know the area well enough to bless you all with something wonderful made from nearby resources. With this said, you're pretty surprised when your nose scrunches up in disgust upon a disastrous smell filling your nostrils. 

It doesn't take long to notice the source, having to push through a few bodies to discover what everyone is glaring at: a pot of bubbling soup of a color you hadn't realized could even exist...and a texture you wish you didn't know existed.

"What happened?" You whisper to Legend who's closest to you. He shrugs as if this sight isn't all that bad, although you're certain he's already thought of some excuse that can get him out of eating tonight.

"Hyrule messed with Wild's cooking again."

"How? Wild's been watching him like a hawk since the last time."

"He wasn't here. He came down to the shops to get some things and when we all walked back together, we found the food like this."

Oh yeah. You remember now. Having overlooked an ingredient for his soup, Wild decided to run down to Goron Town where the others had already gone for a quick supply run and to question locals about weird portals. Soon after he left, the Traveler promised to watch over camp while you went to check out the hot springs as you’ve been dying to do. During your excitement, it failed to cross your mind that he’d be left unattended with Wild’s half-finished food.

"What did you add?" Wild has a hand on his hip, the other holding a ladle that's pointed directly towards Hyrule's chest accusingly as the poor boy sinks into himself, trying to stumble out a response. 

This is far from the first time he’s messed with cooking despite everyone agreeing he should be banned from so much as touching a spoon, yet you can’t help feeling bad for the hero regardless of his bad habit in not keeping his curiosity under control. Hyrule did help you today. If it wasn’t for his kind offer to watch over camp on his own, you would’ve had to put off visiting the hot springs until the others camp back, drastically lowering your chances of being able to sneak away for some alone time. 

“I’m the one messed with the soup,” All eyes are suddenly on you, not a single one looking convinced, but you continue anyways, “You said that you thought it needed ‘a little something more’, so I figured I’d try to help with that. I didn’t expect my additions to cause such -...mildly repulsive results…I’m sorry, Wild. I’ll remake dinner tonight if you want.”

Wild narrows his eyes, humming in thought for a good few seconds before announcing, “I don’t believe you! But…”

He then turns on his heel, dramatically dipping his ladle into the soup. The quote-on-quote ‘liquid’ doesn’t drip back into the pot once he brings up a ladle-full, instead sticking to the utensil before flopping into the soup with a heavy ‘splash’, “...I might be able to fix it if I add more broth - but this is the last warning I’m going to give: the next time anyone tampers with my cooking, I’ll only be making food with a jar of goron spice added in from then on, you hear?!”

Everyone is quick to agree, although Hyrule shows some brief hesitation until you elbow him roughly in the side. At that point, he eagerly nods, giving Wild a little piece of mind as he tries to figure out how to fix this dinner ‘you’ve’ so cruelly ruined.

“...Thank you for that,” Hyrule whispers to you, bashfully joining you beside fire as you lean back and shrug casually, “I really owe you this time.”

“Eh, don’t mention it. I already owed you for allowing me a nice break,” You nod your head towards the path that leads to the hot springs before peeking open an eye and glaring at him, your voice suddenly stern which sends shivers down his spine, “But seriously, dude, do. not. touch. Wild’s cooking again. Forced to eat meals laced with goron spice is where I draw the line in my love towards you.”

“N-Noted.”

No matter how tightly he squeezes his eyes shut, all Warrior can see among the darkness is stars that seem to glow brighter whenever another wave of pain shoots through his nervous system. He'd like to say he's had worse, although this is truly in his top five - maybe even top three. He can't adjust his body without grinding his teeth, yet he tries anyways, digging the end of his sword into the ground and using it as support to get himself up, but each inch he moves is agony to his battered body.

The moblin - if he remembers correctly, it's from Sky's universe - follows the bloody trail that had been left behind after it had previously tossed Warrior, stalking closer to the downed hero who can only curse his luck. Of course something like this happens on his turn to patrol. He shouted for help not long ago, although given the distance he's gone from camp, it's fairly possible no one heard. Even with the moblin raising its spear, he finds himself more concerned with the others than himself, praying to Hylia they don't get ambushed like he had -

"- HEY! OVER HERE YOU OVERGROWN PIG!" The moblin pauses, forced to turn its entire body to see where the voice had come from. This allows Warrior to see around it, spotting you running towards them with your sword drawn. He might've been relieved at this point if not for quickly noticing the fact that you're completely alone.

"N-NO! Don -...DON'T!" Warrior tries his best to stand up and reach for his sword, however he immediately crumbles onto his knees, hissing in pain as his free hand hurries to cover his wounded side. 

You don't listen, although you most likely didn't even hear him, too busy going face-to-face with the moblin. It reacts to your charge by holding its shield out in front of itself, yet you take no issue in running right up it, stepping onto the top edge which you use to kick yourself into the air over the moblin's head. You successfully catch yourself on your feet behind and, before it can recover from this surprise, you attack, hitting the monster as many times as you can manage. 

It cries out and angrily swipes its spear towards you (while Warrior holds his breath in worry), but even then you're faster, swiftly leaping out of harm's way and slicing its side in return. The moblin huffs, raising its spear to throw, however it stalls, eyes rolling back into its head before blood loss finally overcomes it, causing it to crash into the ground with a loud 'THUD'.

"Warrior!" You take no time celebrating your victory, hurrying to your friend where you fall to your knees and immediately begin looking over his injuries. His tunic is soaked in crimson at this point particularly around his side, making it difficult to pinpoint the exact damage. You curse yourself for not having gotten here sooner even though you truly did run as quickly as your feet could carry you after hearing his distressed shouts for aid. Thank Hylia you happened to have been foraging not too far away. If you had stayed in camp with the others, you would've surely lost a beloved member of your group.

"Here. Stay still," You order, reaching into your pocket and uncorking a bottle you kept there. A pink glow is free to flutter out and to your friend, practically dancing over his wounds in careful work that brings instant comfort shown through his sigh.

"...Why'd you do that?" Warrior wonders aloud, earning a confused look from you.

"Would you rather me have dragged you back to camp for Hyrule -?"

"- I mean why did you take on that moblin like that? Alone no less."

You huff, taking offense despite knowing full well that he isn't insulting your skill. He’s just terrible at wording stuff (all Links are), "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to steal your thunder there. I was only thinking it would be better to save your dumb butt than to take my time personally gathering an army to collect your corpse afterwards.”

Warrior clicks his tongue, forcing his eyes away from you, "...I'm thankful, don't get me wrong, but it was still incredibly stupid...You could've gotten just as hurt as me..."

"Hypocrite," You huff under your breath, although he still hears and pouts as a result. Gently, you take his chin, directing him to face you again, "I get that you're a captain and all, thus you feel responsible for protecting others, but there's nothing wrong with admitting defeat and trusting someone else to take charge if necessary. Your ego isn't worth your life, after all, I’ll only mourn one of the two.”

Warrior blushes, trying to look anywhere except your eyes, yet you refuse to let him do so, too amused by his adorable embarrassment to let go of his chin right away.

"I...I suppose you're right."

"I always am."

"...I'll be sure to remember that from here on out."