#SAD the hollow road isn't here. but I will just have to make do with him making hands out of mud & pulling the cuirassiers down w them

[fluentisonus]

guy who's only ever read one literary account of waterloo reading another: getting a lot of les mis vibes from this

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Cradle To Grave: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: Your experience in prison isn't what you thought it would be. You're feeling everything and you don't know if you'll be okay when you finally come out of it. Meanwhile, the team notices a change in Spencer as he tries his best not to miss you too much.

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

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

Emily has noticed a shift in Spencer ever since you got arrested, and it hasn't been a good one. He's more distant, has hollow eyes from the lack of sleep, and he's not as interested in the job. He does what he can to help the team but he'd do better if you were by his side again. She feels so bad for him knowing he's crazy in love with you. It's not fair how you're sitting in a jail cell for something you didn't do while the rest of them do their jobs without helping you. She hates it.

Spencer reaches into his pocket and takes out his wallet where there is a picture of you two taken in a photo booth. He has two while you have the other two in your wallet. The first picture is you two laughing at something he said right before the picture was taken. The second one is you sitting on his lap looking at him while he looks down at you with a loving smile on his face. This isn't fucking fair. Before he knows it, a tear drips down onto the worn leather of his wallet.

"I know we all sound like broken records, but she is going to be okay," Emily says.

"They're not doing anything to help her, Emily." Spencer sighs shakily. "We shouldn't be working this case. We should be working on hers. I don't care what Strauss says."

"I agree with you. Maybe we can work on it but it's gonna have to be in secret. After this case."

"Yeah. Okay," Spencer agrees.

Emily walks closer to the spot where Kristie was found and looks around the area.

"So, there are no tire tracks. The body wasn't dumped that far from the road. This guy doesn't care about them, not enough to even hide them very well."

"That's why this doesn't make any sense. Dump sites reveal something about the unsub. At the very least, a geographic familiarity, a place he knows he won't get caught."

"He knows this road, except he abducted Kristie in Farmington and dumped her in Rio Rancho. It's a hundred-and-seventy-five-mile drive. Why drive that far just to dump a body on the side of the road?" Emily asks.

"A forensic countermeasure? Covering his tracks by sheer distance?"

"The geographical profile won't do us much good."

"No, it will, just not with the victims. We profiled that it's the babies that he's interested in. That's where he'll reveal himself. Through the adoption company he sells through, and whatever network of resources he uses. He makes shortcuts there for convenience. No one's gonna drive a hundred miles for diapers or for a public notary for legal paperwork. If the babies are in the system, they'll lead us to him."

Spencer's mind returns to you once he and Emily leave the dump site. This is only your first week in prison and you already want to die. Everyone around you has done something bad, so bad that you can feel their guilt, their anger, and their sadness all rolled into one as if it's your own. You're trying really hard not to break down crying right now. If you're seen as weak, then your time here isn't going to be very fun. Still, your hand trembles, and your breathing shakes.

Lunch time comes quicker than you think which is something you've been dreading. You feel like you're back in high school with the way there are already cliques sitting together. The mean ones who don't take shit sit in one corner, the loners who keep their heads down are in another, and two types of gangs hang out separately. The feeling of not knowing where to sit is still present as if this is your first day. You've been lucky and have had a table or section to yourself but not today. Almost every table is full of women scarfing down food as if they hadn't eaten in months.

The panic must be evident on your face because someone calls out your name from the right. You turn to see one of your cellmates waving you over to her. She's the one who you got the friendliest vibe from when you first arrived. You quickly rush across the cafeteria over to her and take a seat across from her.

"I'm surprised you know my name," you say and stick your fork into the mystery meat they've served.

"I heard some guards talking about you. You're fresh meat. Everyone knows you're here."

"That doesn't make me feel better."

"I'm Ashley. I've been here long enough to know you need friends in your corner, and you seem nice enough. You're not gonna kill me in my sleep, are you?"

"No," you chuckle. "Whatever you heard about me isn't true. I shouldn't even be here."

"What do you mean?" You look up at her and her eyes widen in realization. "I'm sorry. That's none of my business."

"No, it's okay. I was framed for something I didn't do. Someone wants me in here suffering for what they did. I can't get into the details of my case since it's open right now, but I've never harmed someone much less killed them. I guess I have to hold my head high and keep moving on."

"I'm so sorry. I know how you feel. Do you mind me asking what you did before coming here?"

You look around the cafeteria and lower your voice a few octaves so others don't hear you. There is something about Ashley that tells you she can be trusted.

"I'm an FBI agent." You return your voice back to normal. "I help people. I bring justice to those who deserve it. I put away the bad guys and bring peace to families. This isn't me. This," you gesture to the prison, "isn't me."

"Yeah, I know something about that," she sighs.

"What do you mean? What's your story, if you don't mind me asking."

"I was a babysitter for the longest time. I love kids. I love being around kids. I accepted this job as a babysitter for what I assumed was this nice older couple, Roger and Anita Roycewood. They had young kids, so I figured they were either adopted or grandkids. Either way, I was eager to start. I thought everything was going well until the husband was paying more attention to me than his own wife. I never pictured myself as a homewrecker and immediately put a stop to it. I wanted to leave but I needed the money. 

"When his wife found out he's made multiple passes at me, she got pissed. So pissed that it scared me. She was throwing things and breaking things so I fled to the basement. He was guarding the door, and I didn't want to think what would happen if I tried to leave that way. I saw the children down there in locked rooms. I immediately called the police, but the couple managed to convince them it was me who did this, that I came into their lives, took control over them, and locked their kids down there.

"I was sent here with no chance of parole. It's been a couple of years, and even though I'm on good behavior, they won't reconsider my sentence."

"Ashley, I am going to get us out of here. My team is the best in the business, and I know they will help us both get out."

"I lost hope a long time ago," she whispers.

"I'll have it for the both of us. I promise."

She gives you a small smile but there is no hope behind it. She thinks she's stuck in here, but you're going to prove to her that people like you two deserve second chances. Meanwhile, JJ and Rossi talk with CPS back at the police station. One agent was more than happy to come down and spill the tea, as you like to say.

"Child trafficking is huge in other countries, but it's mostly a myth here."

"Why is that?"

"There's an easier and legal path to take--adoption."

"There'd be a paper trail, though, wouldn't there?" JJ asks.

"Not always. There are ways to hide your tracks."

"There must be a way to identify all these kids."

"There is a court record for every adoption."

"Give us the records. We'll start weeding them out by date," Rossi says.

"The adoptions in this state are closed. The files are sealed. It'll take time."

"That's a luxury we don't have. There's a child at risk right now," JJ urges.

"All children who go in and out of the adoption system get basic genetic screenings for pre-existing conditions. We have their DNA."

"We can use that," JJ says to Rossi. "We can match the maternal DNA with the babies in the system."

"You're still talking hundreds of kids, if not more," the CPS agent warns.

"What if we give you one of the babies' DNA?" Rossi asks.

"That would make it go faster, yeah."

JJ is confused about how to get the baby's DNA if there is no baby to test, but Rossi immediately explains.

"He kills these moms so soon after they give birth so that secondary DNA could still be on their bodies. Maybe even an umbilical cord."

"I'll call the ME and have Morgan go down there." 

JJ steps off to the side and calls the ME to prepare for testing. There have been three victims to surface from this unsub, and the two most recent ones didn't have any DNA on them. The only one who might have it is the first victim, Monica. She is already buried, so she calls Monica's parents to ask permission to dig her back up. It takes them twenty minutes to come down to the station so she can ask in person rather than over the phone.

"Agent Jareau?" She turns to see an older couple walk through the doors. "I'm Conrad Winmar. This is my wife, Jane."

"Thank you for coming in. Why don't we talk privately?" JJ takes them to an empty office and explains to them what is going on. "I know it's hard to hear, but we need to examine Monica."

"You want to dig up our daughter?" Conrad stutters.

"We think the unsub might have left DNA on her. The last two victims didn't have any, but because Monica was the first, he might have made a mistake."

"Back when they found her, the detectives said they didn't find his DNA."

"It's not his DNA we're looking for. We suspect your daughter gave birth while she was captive."

"What?" Conrad whispers.

"The unsub has gotten all of his victims pregnant. He might be putting the babies in the adoption system."

"The baby is alive?" Jane asks.

"Possibly. If we can find placental tissue on Monica, we can test the DNA against the state's records."

"Give us the release forms," Jane sniffles and holds out her hand.

JJ does as she's told, and both parents sign the papers as fast as they can. If their grandchild is alive out there, then they want to find him or her as fast as possible. Once it's signed and filed, Derek goes to the ME's office where Monica's body is currently. The ME thought she was just another girl on the street, not caring what she did to herself, that he never thought to check for the umbilical cord still inside her. The child should be about four now, and Derek takes the umbilical cord to get tested for DNA.

Once he's done, he heads back to the police station where Penelope is on the line talking to the rest of the team.

"Okay, know this, most adoption folks are the nicest, most dedicated people in the world. There are, however, one or two skeezy ones."

"How skeevy?" Spencer asks.

"Super skeezy. I've got a spreadsheet from one of them expecting compensation for the baby I'm having."

"Something you want to tell me, Garcia?" Derek asks.

"Oh, that's the sad part, my Prince. The genetically perfect offspring of Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan wouldn't fetch top dollar. White babies are in higher demand than minorities. Boys are more popular than girls, at least this year, anyway. Then there's the Swedish supermodel rule."

"The what?" Emily asks.

"If I were to deliver a blond-haired, blue-eyed bundle of joy, I'd be set for life. I would."

"Garcia, did the baby's DNA turn up in New Mexico's adoption records?" Hotch wonders.

"No, there are no hits on her profile. It's a her, by the way."

"This unsub could still be selling babies, just not through the system. That's gonna make him a lot harder to catch. Alright, it's late. Let's get some rest. We'll hit this fresh in the morning."

"Garcia out."

As the team is packing up to go back to the hotel, Hotch stops Derek and pulls him off to the side.

"Morgan. I'd like for you to write up a preliminary profile."

"We don't have enough for that."

"That's why it's preliminary. A work-in-progress profile helps show us what we're missing."

"Okay, sure," Derek nods.

Derek leaves with the team, leaving Hotch and Rossi alone.

"How are you holding up?" Rossi asks.

"We just wasted a day looking into a black market that probably doesn't exist."

"That's not what I mean. I've heard whispers. You're getting some heat."

"It's this whole Y/N thing. It's all coming back to me. I'm handling it, though."

"I have no doubt that you are. So, do you think we have a tunnel vision problem?"

"I think we'd like to believe that we could save those kids, but look what he does to the mothers. That's a lot of anger. He's probably doing the same thing to the children. His own children," Hotch scoffs.

"Maybe. Garcia said something interesting. Blond-haired, blue-eyed babies get top dollar in the adoption system. All the mothers have blond hair and blue eyes. We can start there in the morning."

x

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[toscrollperchancetomeme]

Lestat de Lioncourt - A playlist

So, guess who made a Lestat Playlist (like there aren't enough already) and decided to sit down for 4-6 hours to find some excerpt corresponding with each song? Featuring 80s and 90s music (clearly showing my age...) as well as many european songs and showtunes. Enjoy!

1. Cathedrals – Ramin Karimloo (Original by Jump, Little Children)

In the cathedrals of New York and Rome There is a feeling that you should just go home And spend the lifetime finding out just where that is

And that was not a good year for me. I was wandering aimlessly. I was sick of things. I was furious with myself that the „beauty“ of life wasn't sustaining me, wasn't making my loneliness bearable.

I wanted to join them. Always do want to join them and never do. „Go home,“ he whispered. - Prince Lestat

(I actually feel like there are quotes that would correspond to this song in every one of the books and indeed have not yet found any other song that captures the general spirit of The Vampire Chronicles as perfectly.)

2. Edge of Seventeen – Stevie Nicks

Well, I went today Maybe I will go again tomorrow Yeah yeah, well, the music there Well, it was hauntingly familiar Well, I see you doing what I try to do for me With the words from a poet and a voice from a choir And a melody, and nothing else mattered

He sat next to me, hugging me and asking me why I was crying, and though I couldn't tell him, I could see that he was overwhelmed that his music had produced this effect. There was no sarcasm or bitterness in him now. I think he carried me home that night. And the next morning I was standing in the crooked stone street in front of his father's shop, tossing pebbles up at his window. When he stuck his head out, I said: „Do you want to come down and go on with our conversation?“ - The Vampire Lestat

3. I ain't scared of lightning – Tom McRae

No I ain't scared of lightning And thunder never killed I was born in a summer storm and I live there still

I wasn't part of the world that cringed at such things. And with a smile, I realized that I was of that dark ilk that makes others cringe. Slowly and with great pleasure, I laughed.

And the labor that brought it forth was rapture such as I have never known. - The Vampire Lestat

4. Junge Roemer – Falco (Young Romans – Full Translation)

Don't ask for new old values See white light, see only feeling The night is ours till morning We play every game Don't ever let this journey end The doing comes only from the being Only from dimensions, that Are worth illusions and sensations Give me more, give me more, give me more...

... and again she laughed. „Ah, but we are splendid devils, aren't we?“ „Hunters of the Savage Garden,“ I said. „Then let's go into Paris,“ she said. - The Vampire Lestat

5. Running up that hill – Candy Says (Original by Kate Bush

If I only could, I'd make a deal with God, And I'd get him to swap our places, Be running up that road, Be running up that hill, Be running up that building,

„Not even with Nicolas?“ „No, god, no!“ I looked at her. She nodded slightly as if she approved of this answer. „Why not with Nicolas?“ she asked. I wanted this to stop. „Because he's young,“ I said, „and he has life before him.“ - The Vampire Lestat

6. Florence – Notre Dame de Paris (Full Translation)

The little things always triumph over the large And literature will kill architecture The school books will kill the cathedrals The Bible will kill the Church, and man will kill God This will kill that

„I never lived in it. I push against the glass. But how do I get in?“ „I can't tell you that,“ I said. „You have to study this age,“ Gabrielle interrupted. Her voice was calm but commanding. He looked towards her as she spoke. „You have to understand the age,“ she continued, „through its literature and its music and its art. You have come up out of the earth, as you yourself put it. Now live in the world.“ No answer from him. Flash of Nicki's ravaged flat with all its books on the floor. Western civilization in heaps. - The Vampire Lestat

7. Go your own way – Fleetwood Mac

Loving you isn't the right thing to do How can I ever change things that I feel

If I could maybe I'd give you my world How can I when you won't take it from me

You can go your own way You can call it another lonely day

„Keep your promise,“ she said. And quite suddenly I knew this was our last moment. I knew it and I could do nothing to change it. „Gabrielle!“ I whispered. But she was already gone. - The Vampire Lestat

8. Désenchantée – Olympe (Original by Myléne Farmer - Full Translation)

If death is a mystery Life isn't exactly tender If heaven has a hell Then heaven can still wait for me Tell me how to handle this headwind Nothing makes sense anymore, nothing's fine

Laughter. That insane music. That din, that dissonance, that never ending shrill articulation of the meaninglessness... Am I awake? Am I asleep? I am sure of one thing. I am a monster. And because I lie in torment in the earth, certain human beings move on through the narrow pass of life unmolested. - The Vampire Lestat

9. A kind of magic – Queen

The bell that rings inside your mind Is challenging the doors of time It's a kind of magic The waiting seems eternity The day will dawn of sanity

And quite completely I understood that it was looking for me, this sound, it was seeking me out.

Blood like light itself, liquid fire.

It seemed beneath the roar of the flow he spoke. He said again: „Drink, my young one, my wounded one.“ I felt his heart swell, his body undulate, and we were sealed against each other. I think I heard myself say: „Marius.“ And he answered: „Yes.“ - The Vampire Lestat

10. La quête – Bruno Pelletier (French version of „The Impossible Dream“ from Man of La Mancha)

To try when your arms are too weary To reach the unreachable star

This is my quest To follow that star Ooh, no matter how hopeless No matter how far

I would remain in New Orleans if New Orleans could only manage to remain. Whatever I suffered should be lessened in this lawless place, whatever I craved should give me more pleasure once I had it in my grasp. And there were moments on that first night in this fetid little paradise when I prayed that in spite of all my secret power, I was somehow kin to every mortal man. - The Vampire Lestat

11. Wicked Game – Chris Isaak

What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you

Yet Louis gained a hold over me far more powerful than Nicolas had ever had. Even in his cruelest moments, Louis touched the tenderness in me, seducing me with his staggering dependence, his infatuation with my every gesture and every spoken word. - The Vampire Lestat

12. Do I disappoint you – Rufus Wainwright

Do I disappoint you, in just being human? And not one of the elements that you can light your cigar on Why does it always have to be fire? Why does it always have to be brimstone?

„And suppose the vampire who made you knew nothing, and the vampire before him knew nothing, and so it goes back and back, nothing proceeding from nothing, until there is nothing! And we must live with the knowledge that there is no knowledge!“ „Yes!“ he cried out suddenly, his hands out, his voice tinged with something other than anger.

And then I sensed it. He was afraid. Lestat afraid. - Interview with the Vampire

13. Ordinary World – Duran Duran

What has happened to it all? Crazy, some'd say Where is the life that I recognize? Gone away

But I won't cry for yesterday There's an ordinary world Somehow I have to find And as I try to make my way To the ordinary world I will learn to survive

I do not remember when it became the twentieth century, only that everything was uglier and darker, and the beauty I'd known in the old eighteenth-century days seemed more than ever some kind of fanciful idea. - The Vampire Lestat

14. I'm still standing – Taron Egerton (Original by Elton John)

And there's a cold lonely light that shines from you You'll wind up like the wreck you hide behind that mask you use And did you think this fool could never win? Well look at me, I'm coming back again

But after the third night up, I was roaring around New Orleans on a big black Harley-Davidson motorcycle making plenty of noise myself. […] I was the vampire Lestat again. I was back in action. New Orleans was once again my hunting ground. - The Vampire Lestat

15. Catch my fall – Billy Idol

I have the time so I will sing, yeah I'm just a boy but I will win, yeah Lost song of lovers, fellow travelers, yeah Leave me sad and hollow out of words

It could happen to you so think for yourself If I should stumble, catch my fall, yeah

I've survived, obviously. I wouldn't be talking to you if I hadn't. And the cosmic dust has finally settled; and the small rift in the world's fabric of rational beliefs has been mended, or at least closed. I'm a little sadder for all of it, and a little meaner and a little more conscientious as well. - The Queen of the Damned

16. I want it all – Queen

I'm a man with a one track mind So much to do in one lifetime (people do you hear me) Not a man for compromise and where's and why's and living lies So I'm living it all, yes I'm living it all And I'm giving it all, and I'm giving it all

It is not enough any longer that my little rock band be successful. We must create a fame that will carry my name and my voice to the remotest parts of the world. - The Vampire Lestat

17. Let me entertain you – Robbie Williams

Hell is gone and heaven's here There's nothing left for you to fear Shake your arse come over here Now scream

I'm a burning effigy Of everything I used to be You're my rock of empathy, my dear

So come on let me entertain you

"I AM THE VAMPIRE LESTAT!" I shouted at the top of my lungs as I stepped way back from the microphone, and the sound was almost visible as it arched over the length of the oval theater, and the voice of the crowd rose even higher, louder, as if to devour the ringing sound. - The Vampire Lestat

18. La bien qui fait mal – Mozart l'Opera Rock (Full translation)

I can feel a violent urge I feel like I'm sliding towards the ground If I don't find out where this plague is coming from I adore having it under my skin Bewitched by mad ideas Suddenly all my cravings take off The desire becomes my prison Until I loose my mind

Yet I was in her arms in this chilling darkness, in the familiar scent of winter, and her blood was mine again, and it was enslaving me. When she drew away, I felt agony. - The Queen of the Damned

19. Tainted Love – Soft Cell

And you think love is to pray But I'm sorry I don't pray that way Once I ran to you Now I'll run from you This tainted love you've given I give you all a boy could give you Take my tears and that's not living, oh

„What do you think I am that I am so easily swayed? I was born a Queen. I have always ruled; even from the shrine I ruled." Her eyes were glazed suddenly. I heard the voices, a dull hum rising. "I ruled if only in legend; if only in the minds of those who came to me and paid me tribute. Princes who played music for me; who brought me offerings and prayers. What do you want of me now? That for you, I renounce my throne, my destiny!" What answer could I make? - The Queen of the Damned

20. Dancing in the Dark – Ruth Moody (Original by Bruce Springsteen)

They say you gotta stay hungry Hey baby, I'm just about starvin' tonight I'm dyin' for some action I'm sick of sittin' 'round here tryin' to write this book I need a love reaction Come on now, baby, gimme just one look

"I want you to put the book aside and come join us," he said. "You've been locked in here for over a month." "I go out now and then," I said. I liked looking at him, at the neon blue of his eyes.

"Do you love me now?" I asked. He smiled; oh, it was excruciating to see his face soften and brighten simultaneously when he smiled. "Yes," he said. "Want to go on a little adventure?" My heart was thudding suddenly. It would be so grand if- "Want to break the new rules?" "What in the world do you mean?" he whispered. - The Queen of the Damned

21. I want you – Savage Garden

Oh, I want you, I don't know if I need you But oh, I would die to find out

"You don't think you'll be back?" he asked. "I think you will, whether I call or not." Another little surprise. A little stab of humiliation. I smiled at him in spite of myself. He was a very interesting man. "You silver-tongued British bastard," I said. "How dare you say that to me with such condescension? Maybe I should kill you right now."

I thought of David Talbot's face, and that moment when he'd challenged me. Well, maybe he was right. I'd be back. Who said I couldn't come back and talk to him if I wanted to? - The Queen of the Damned

22. Lay your hands on me – Bon Jovi

I'm a fighter, I'm a poet, I'm a preacher I've been to school, oh baby, I've been the teacher If you show me how to get up off the ground I can show you how to fly and never ever come back down

I sat down on the bed beside him. And then I bent down and kissed his face again gently, as I had in New Orleans, liking the feel of his roughly shaven beard, just as I liked that sort of thing when I was really Lestat and I would soon have that strong masculine blood inside. I moved closer to him, when suddenly he grasped my hand, and I felt him gently push me away. „Why, David?“ I asked him. He didn't answer. He lifted his right hand and brushed my hair back out of my eyes. „I don't know,“ he whispered. „I can't. I simply can't.“ - The Tale of the Body Thief

23. 20th Century Boy – Placebo (Original by T-Rex)

I move like a cat, charge like a ram Sting like a bee, babe, I wanna be your man, hey!

He drew back with a speed that astonished me, cleaving to the wall. „Don't do this, Lestat.“ „Don't fight me, old friend. You waste your effort. You have a long night of discovery ahead.“ - The Tale of the Body Thief

24. Way down we go – KALEO

Oh, Father tell me, do we get what we deserve? Whoa, we get what we deserve And way down we go

„In chains, to my friend and my scribe, I dictated these words. Come with me. Just listen to me. Don't leave me alone.“ - Memnoch the Devil

25. Personal Jesus – Depeche Mode

Reach out, touch faith

"Don't tell me," Gabrielle said slurringly, "that it's a matter of faith." She sneered and shook her head. "You come like doubting Thomas to thrust your bloody fangs in the very wound." "Oh, stop, please, I beg you," I whispered. I put up my hands. "Let me try, and let him hurt me, and then be satisfied, and turn away." - The Vampire Armand

26. Papillon – Editors

Darling Just don't put down your guns yet If there really was a God here He'd have raised a hand by now Now darling You're born, get old, then die here Well that's quite enough for me We'll find our own way home somehow

"And if I spill my blood down into this coffin now," Lestat asked her, "what do you think will come back? Do you think it will be our Louis that will rise in these burnt rags? What if it's not, chérie, what if it's some wounded revenant that we must destroy?" "Choose life, Lestat," she said. - Merrick

27. Sunday Light – Choir Boy

Why, why, why, are you silent on the ride home? I'd love to see the temple with you Heavenly and bright, golden angel twisted scathing You were one of us, one of us, one of us, you were one of us

"Then come, Little Brother, take me to where you want to talk," he said, and I felt the soft squeeze of his fingers on my arm. "Why are you so kind to me?" I asked him. "You're used to people being paid to do it, aren't you?" he asked. - Blackwood Farm

28. Für mich solls rote Rosen regnen – Hildegard Knef (It should rain red roses for me - Full translation)

It should rain red roses for me All wonders should encounter me The world should rearrange itself And keep its worries to itself

I want to be a saint. I want to save souls by the millions. I want to do good far and wide. I want to fight evil! I want my life-sized statue in every church. I'm talking six feet tall, blond hair, blue eyes- Wait a second. Do you know who I am? - Blood Canticle

29. Constant Craving – K. D. Lang

Even through the darkest phase Be it thick or thin Always someone marches brave Here beneath my skin And constant craving Has always been

I was hunting, thirsting though I didn't need to drink, at the mercy of the craving, the deep agonizing lust for heated pumping human blood. - Prince Lestat

30. Kalte Sterne – Jan Ammann (Cold Stars from the musical Ludwig² - Full translation)

Get up, ride home, on your horse, through your land Across the morning with your reins trailing behind you Build a castle like a dream, build it with mighty hands And it shall be named „future“

Build a castle like a dream Up from the ashes and close to the heavens Build a castle like a dream And realise the future as king

If we wanted to survive, if we wanted to inherit the millenia […] then we had to meet the future with respect as well as courage and count fear and selfishness to be small things. - Prince Lestat and the realms of Atlantis

31. C'est une belle journée – Mylene Farmer (Full translation)

I'm going to bed To bite eternity With my mouth wide open It's a beautiful day

And I felt the cold numbing shell of alienation and despair which had imprisoned me all of my life among the Undead – I felt that shell cracked, broken, and dissolved utterly into infinitesimal fragments. - Blood Communion

32. Princes of the Universe – Queen

Fly the moon and reach for the stars With my sword and head held high Got to pass the test first time, yeah I know that people talk about me, I hear it every day But I can prove them wrong 'cause I'm right first time

„I know that you meant full well to bring Rhoshamandes down, of course you did. But you had no way of knowing that you could. And no one would have predicted that you could. And with the willingness to die, you gave yourself over into his hands... and you disarmed him and destroyed him.“ – Blood Communion

And finally, because I can, a bonus track:

33. Primadonna – MARINA

And I'm sad to the core, core, core Every day is a chore, chore, chore When you give, I want more, more, more I wanna be adored

[eveenstar]

ᴄᴏʟᴅ sᴛᴀʀs (ᴍᴀʀᴋᴜs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

Summary: You’ve been a gifted child since you could remember, and even though most say it’s a good gift, you feel like this is more of a curse. A death curse.

Tags/Warnings: Attempted suicide, overall angsty and sad. 

Note: This is probably the most heavy one-shot I’ve written so far. Also, this is my first time writing for Detroit: Become Human so hello people and let’s pray Tumblr doesn’t mess up my tags again :D I wrote this with Markus bc he’s my favourite and one of my comfort characters. The idea came up with this vid youtube and bc this day has been rather dull for me. Please, anyone who struggles with depression (or any other) and has suicidal thoughts, you are not alone and I’m here if you want a listening ear. 

You glanced over to the glowing street lights. The diverse cars going left, right or straight ahead to their future. You wish you could have that future, but you couldn't. At least, you felt like you couldn't. Focusing enough, you'd hear the sirens, the phones ringing and the chatting of the people above you. This building was tall enough to almost touch the sky, but that was your imagination; it only took you 10 minutes to climb up the stairs and get to the rooftop. Was this really the ending for you?

You let out a nervous breath, your mind floating into old memories. You were a gifted child since you could remember, but everyone around you overlooked that. You knew you were special, you knew you were different from the others. However, it didn't matter anymore. Your life was ruined because people were careless. Why have a child if you don't plan on loving them? You were left with your own conclusions to why you were different, so you distorted it and later, you felt guilty for being different.

The cold wind kissed your cheeks as you stared at the pale moon, which seemed to be gloomily staring back at you. All those stars out there, hanging on the dark sky, remind you of yourself. They all seem so alive, yet if you look close enough, they're dead. Just like you. You stared at the even vaster buildings in front of you, then back down at the busy streets. Your heart jumped at the thought of falling. Would it hurt much? Or maybe you weren't going to feel a thing.

Markus.

How would Markus react to your death? He probably hasn't noticed you've been gone for long, but he most definitely did. He's not a human, he's much more intelligent than one. Is he looking for you right now? You wished, you deeply wished you wouldn't hurt him but you can't take the pain anymore. Not just any pain, it's the hollowness inside. You laugh, you smile, you have your happy moments but the emptiness is still there. Eating you alive, destroying and burning you from the inside out. Maybe in an alternate reality, you're happy. Not this one thought, this one has been a bumpy road of life.

Cold tears fell from your eyes, they were as cold as your hands. You tried warming them, but you weren't wearing any good winter clothing for that, and now they're red. Probably not a good sign. The snow reminded you of christmas, and in fact, it would be in two weeks. You told Markus you wanted to decorate the tree this weekend, and now he'll have to do it alone. A quiet sob escaped your lips; how much you missed to do that every single christmas, for some reason you found it peaceful. Not that christmas is a huge thing for you, because it isn't, it stopped being important after childhood. After you realized how much in your life is wrong. After that hollow hole in your chest grew. You can't remember how it was to live without any trauma or mental issue. You could use a hug now.

"(Y/N)?"

You gasped and quickly turned around, just to meet Markus, your boyfriend.

"Markus?"

There was a silence, an extreme silence. You didn't know what to say, but you also didn't need to. He already knew what you were planning to do, and if he arrived just a couple of minutes later, you'd be gone in the blink of an eye. But for now, you were here. Markus tried analyzing your expression; Despair, fear, sadness.

He stretched his hand to you, silently begging you to take it and leave the edge of the roof.

"Please," Markus said, "Come to me, sweetheart."

As if time had stopped itself, you stared at the android. A part of you wanted to accept it, and the other didn't.

You don't know what happened, but your feet moved towards him and you rushed onto his arms. Letting out uncontrollable sobs and apologizes, you hid your face in his chest.

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm here now, " A harsh breath escaped past his lips, "I love you so much, I'm here for you. We'll get through this together."

He almost lost you, the love of his life. He'll make sure you get all the help you need, and Markus will make sure you know you aren't alone in this journey. 

[chasholidays]

It IS too early, but I look forward to these from you every year so I'll just mumble to myself about where the summer has gone and isn't it June still... I would love a time stamp of East, West. Anything goes, but for a one word prompt: Spring.

Original fic here!

spring.

“Well, he really did it.”

Clarke looks up from her needlepoint and immediately stabs herself with the needle. She’s not good at sewing, and she doesn’t know why her mother is trying to change that.

“Who?”

“Marcus Kane really is bringing an orphan home for his father.” Her own father squints, eyes narrowing. “Two, maybe.”

“Orphans?”

Her father pats the chair next to him, and Clarke joins him. It’s early evening and not quite warm enough for them to be outside, but her father loves the new spring weather and she loves being with him.

“Mr. Kane is getting too old to handle the place by himself. I thought Marcus might come back to help him, but I heard he was going to the orphanage to get him a boy.”

Clarke makes a face. “A boy?”

“To help out with the work. It looked like there might have been a girl too. I wonder where she’s going.”

He doesn’t have to wonder for long. By the next morning, the whole town is wild with the story. Mr. Marcus Kane returned from the city, and instead of staying to help his father like he ought to, he went back to the mainland and came back with a pair of orphans. The boy is fourteen and his sister is nine, and the boy is from somewhere foreign, maybe, so gossip wonders what Mr. Marcus Kane was doing, bringing someone like that to the island.

At twelve, Clarke is stuck between the two siblings in age, which is irritating. If only the girl were fourteen, and the boy nine. The Kane farm borders theirs, and it would be nice to have a friend close by, nearer to her own age. But nine sounds very young, and the only boy she’s friends with is Wells, and she only sees him at Christmastime, when her mother takes her back to the city to visit her grandparents.

But of course she’s still curious. Most of the children on the island, she’s known for her entire life, and having new ones come in is novel. She doesn’t think they’ll be friends, but she does want to know what they’re like.

“We need to give them time to settle in,” her mother says, when she asks when they’ll go and call on them. “I’m sure it’s a big adjustment for Mr. Kane. He hasn’t had children around since Marcus was a boy, and he had his wife then.”

“You weren’t here then, how do you know?” Clarke asks, frowning.

“Because I talk to people. We’ll go next week.”

Clarke doesn’t exactly disobey her, but it’s not hard to walk home from school on the road past the Kane farm, and on the fourth day, the boy is out there, already hard at work.

She gets the chance to look at him before he sees her, and she’s not quite sure what to make of him. He’s not so very large, taller than she is without being tall, but he looks strong. His skin is darker than her father’s even in summer, and his hair is an inky black tangle on his head.

When he looks up, she can see freckles dotting his cheeks, and it’s only then that she realizes she’s been staring.

“Are you Mr. Kane’s orphan boy?” she asks.

“I’m Bellamy,” he says. “Who are you?”

“Clarke Griffin.”

He blinks a few times, squints at her. “You’re Clarke Griffin?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

He shrugs. “I thought you’d be a boy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she demands.

“It sounds like a boy’s name.”

“Well, it’s not.”

He inclines his head, accepting that. “Good to know. Was there anything else? I have work to do.”

It’s not much to develop a grudge over, but Clarke doesn’t have much trouble developing grudges. Just because she was disappointed he wasn’t a girl doesn’t mean he gets to be disappointed that she is. There are plenty of boys around. He’ll be fine. She’s the one who doesn’t have any girls living nearby, except for his unknown, nine-year-old sister.

“That’s all. Nice to meet you, Bellamy,” she adds, because she was raised to be polite.

“Nice to meet you too,” he says, and goes back to work.

So they aren’t going to be friends. It’s decided.

summer.

“So, you’re leaving.”

Clarke startles at the unexpected voice, but relaxes again as Bellamy sits down next to her. Of course he’s already heard; he was in town, he probably asked at the post office on his way back. And of course he knew where to find her, even out here in the woods. Bellamy probably knows her better than anyone, somehow. He knows all her favorite places to hide.

“Not right away,” she says. “But I did get into university.”

“Congratulations. I knew you would.”

“You would have to,” she points out. “If you’d tried.”

“I would have. But if I left, Mr. Kane would have to sell the farm.”

“Mr. Kane,” she repeats, and he cocks his head. “I don’t know. It’s been six years, I would have thought you’d call him something else by now.”

“He never told me to.” He wets his lips, looking over at her, nervous. Part of her feels as if there must be something inappropriate about this, about being alone in the woods with him, but it’s only because she’s become so aware of him, recently. Sometimes, she tells herself they aren’t even friends, not truly, but others, she thinks there’s no one in the world she trusts so much.

Sometimes, she’s sure if she was staying, he’d ask her to marry him. She knows that if he did, she’d say yes.

“I’m really happy for you,” he says. “The first girl on the island to go to university.”

“I almost can’t believe it. My mother’s saying she’s going to come with me.”

“Is she?”

She stretches her arms out, sighing. “I think she will. The island never suited her, if we’re being honest. She’s always happier when we leave for Christmas.”

“But your father will stay?”

“He loves it here.”

“I’ll check on him for you.”

She smiles. “I’m not leaving today, you know. Not until the fall.”

“I know.” He clears his throat. “Still, you’re going to be busy. You have a lot to get ready for.”

“I do.” She worries her lip. If she wasn’t going, she feels sure she’d marry him. Even now, if he asked her, she would say yes. But it doesn’t feel right, to bring it up herself. She’d be asking him to wait years for her, until she was done with her schooling, and that’s not fair to him. If he wanted that, he could ask her. “I’ll miss you,” she says instead.

He smiles, a little sad. “You’ll know where to find me.”

Her own expression mirrors his. “I suppose I will.”

fall.

Of course, she’d been expecting Bellamy’s engagement. Even before Gina Martin had entered the picture, she’d thought he’d marry someone, someday. He’s too good a prospect to stay unattached forever, and she wouldn’t have wanted that. He deserves a good life, a wife who loves him, a big family, everything he wants. If he can’t become a doctor or a teacher or a scholar, at least he can have the home he wants.

But she can’t help noticing that he tells her he’s engaged only after she told him that she’d be staying in school for a few more years, to become a nurse. It feels as if she’s being egotistical, to even think she’d have any influence on his plans, but–it’s not as if she couldn’t. Maybe, if she’d written him that she’d be coming back home once she was done with school, he wouldn’t have proposed.

She did think about it. She loves the island, but there’s so much more she wants to do, so many things she hasn’t done yet.

“Bellamy Blake is engaged,” she tells her mother, with a smile. It’s even a real one.

“Send him my congratulations,” says Abby. “Who is the bride to be?”

“No one we know. Gina Martin. She’s the new school teacher. He’d been mentioning her more, I’m not surprised he proposed to her.”

“Do you think you’ll have time to go back for the wedding?”

She looks back down at the letter, sees the words, accepted my less-than-inspired proposal, and makes herself smile. “No. I doubt I will.”

winter.

Clarke never reads her letters from Bellamy when she’s with Lexa, although she knows she could. Lexa knows about Bellamy, and almost certainly knows that Clarke had feelings for him. It’s not the sort of thing that bothers either of them, these days. Lexa has her own lost loves, the same as Clarke has. It’s foolish to pretend they don’t have separate pasts of their own. But reading Bellamy’s words with Lexa nearby always makes her feel strange and a little guilty. It’s not that she’s still in love with Bellamy, far from it. But he feels like one of the last vestiges of a life that doesn’t belong to her anymore, a life she can’t imagine Lexa in. Lexa is a city girl through and through; being out on the farm would make her miserable.

Octavia has never written her before, though, and it’s amazing how panicked it makes her, to see that Blake’s name as the sender, and not Bellamy’s.

“What’s wrong?” asks Lexa.

“I don’t know. It’s from Bellamy’s sister, we don’t usually correspond. Something might have happened to him, let me–”

“Of course,” she says. “Do you need to sit?”

Clarke’s already ripping the envelope open, eyes roving over the letter, looking for the explanation. I’m sure Bell will write soon, but I don’t know when he’ll have time, and I know you’ll want to hear this soonest. Gina took a sudden chill, and she passed away last night. She went in her sleep, which is a blessing, and the doctor said she didn’t suffer too much.

It’s the guiltiest, most awful form of relief, her gladness that he’s alive coupled with her sorrow for him. The two of them were happy, and now it’s over, and Bellamy will have a whole new life to figure out.

“Is everything all right?” Lexa asks, gentle, and Clarke realizes she’s blinking tears out of her eyes.

“His wife passed away,” she says. “I never met her, but–I know how much he loved her. I need to write him right away, let him know–” She lets out a hollow little laugh. “There’s nothing good to say, but I need to say it.”

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

It’s the first time it occurs to her that Lexa knows this too, that Lexa is as aware of Clarke keeping her separate from Bellamy as Clarke herself is. It’s not as if she thought she was being sneaky, keeping it to herself or anything like that, but–she didn’t mean to be obvious about it.

“Yes. I’m sorry, it’s just–”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. Give him my condolences, if you think it’s appropriate.”

“I will. Thank you.”

It takes her the whole afternoon to manage a letter, and it still feels like a failure, like she should have come up with something better.

It feels as if she should be there for him, for all she hasn’t seen him in years. For all she doesn’t even know if it would even help him. It’s still where she should be.

Let me know if I can do anything, she writes, an empty offer, but when he writes back, he thanks her for her condolences and the offer.

She might not have done the right thing, but she could have done worse.

spring.

It’s a bright day in early spring when Clarke, walking back from the post office, sees Bellamy in his sister’s fields, working on a fence repair. It’s a big project, too big for Lincoln alone, and Bellamy’s been helping out for the last week.

So it’s no surprise, but it is striking, seeing him back on the old land. He doesn’t help out so much anymore, with so much to do for their own home, and it feels a little like stepping back in time.

She leans on the fence and he looks up at the sound, smiling. It’s easy to still see the boy she first met in him, the same messy curls and freckles, the same tan skin and broad shoulders.

But she likes this version of him better.

“Heading home?” he asks.

“I want to have tea ready for Reese when she’s done with school.” She cocks her head. “You know this is where we first met?”

He stretches, looks around. “Is it?”

“I saw you on my way home from school. You were expecting me to be a boy and I decided we were never going to be friends after that.”

That makes him laugh. “That was why?”

“That was the first thing. You did plenty of other things later to make me dislike you too.”

“You gave as good as you got.” He cracks his neck, checks his progress on the repairs. “I think I can be done with this for the day. Can I walk you home?”

“We’re married,” she teases. It’s been less than six months, and she still feels as if she’s not used to it. But it’s the nice kind of not being used to it, the kind where it still feels too good to be true. “I didn’t think walking me home was very exciting these days.”

“It’s still exciting that it’s our home.” He hops over the fence, offers her his arm. “Shall we?”

Clarke accepts the arm and leans her head against his shoulder, just for a second. “Yes,” she agrees. “Let’s.”

[ellesjournals]

The Calm Before the Storm

The 10th day of January marked the last day of the break just before the start of the second semester. Following the not-so-good first semester of my freshman year, the second semester meant two things to me. First, it meant a new beginning, a chance to make up for my mistakes and for the times I failed myself, and an opportunity to apply what first sem has taught me. Second, it was a challenge, really. I won't deny that it's a lump pushing its way out of my throat, a hollow feeling in my stomach. It's scary, coming off from a really horrible month (or should I say sem) since I felt the need to bounce back and that I can't fail again.

In an attempt to calm myself down, I decided to fight my urge to stay in the comfort of my bed in my dormitory room. I strolled around the campus, ignoring the fact that though I like walking and observing lifeforms, I hate how every now and then, I have to face the perennial challenge of confidently crossing streets on my own. I brought a piece of yema with me, jokingly thinking that if I'd miraculously bump into someone I know, I'd give it to him. (Yes, I said "him".) I wore a white jacket, held my phone in one of its pockets and played some music through my earphones, and finally headed to the Acad Oval. I saw the trees exhibiting crown shyness, the empty benches, and the ice cream cart. I tried to slowly breathe and take in everything because I knew that after that day, I'd be experiencing a major change. College has its own state of nonpermanency: I have to take new classes, which meant new schedule, new professors, new readings and new set of faces to know. Even though I didn't like the first sem that much, I knew it won't be easy to grow out of something I'm used to. No more blockmates. No more routines my body has memorized. No more one and a half-hour or three-hour breaks in between, the ones that took me some time to figure out how to spend wisely. No more late Tuesday and Thursday classes. Somehow, I knew I had to re-learn many things again. That sunk in all at once: I knew it won't be the same anymore. I took in everything with that in mind, knowing that the next day, the campus won't be as calm again. The next day, should I choose to walk around the oval again, I knew I'd be seeing a lot more people and a lot more cars. It would feel more alive and though I love seeing signs of life, it would also mean there would be a lot of energy to absorb and sometimes it exhausts me. I like solitude.

I decided to write one last piece because I knew that when the sem starts, I won't have much free time anymore and besides, I knew I didn't really have a productive break for I had other things to do. It was also like my gift for myself since I know the feeling of accomplishment I get whenever I finish a piece, no matter how badly-written it is. So while going around the oval, I was trying to form a narrative, was jotting random concepts here and there until the storyline became somehow clear to me. My heart was heavy and I guess that translated to my writing because before I knew it, I already had something that is somehow sad. After I had keyed in all ideas, I wanted to settle down so I walked to the Sunken Garden, sat on the grass and started properly working on the piece. I came up with like a short scene in which the girl was narrating how she felt as she and the guy said their goodbyes, not knowing when they'll see each other again, unsure if the guy would even think about her ever in the future. I like capturing mood rather than exploring what happened (and I hope it was what my writings project).

It took me some time to finish it, but I was somehow satisfied that I actually got to finish it, that I didn't have to let it sit for like five days before I reopen it in a time when I'm not in the momentum to write about it anymore. I stood and went to the other side of the Sunken Garden, and read my draft again, just wanting to see it with fresh eyes, and correcting minor errors that I found. I sat on one of the benches, browsed through my gallery, edited a photo I could attach to it when I'll post it, and decided to walk back to the dorm. I was feeling fine. Not the happy-and-energetic okay but just the okay okay, the I'm-not-gonna-cry okay. After all, I was feeling satisfied. And this is when one of my favorite moments happened.

I crossed the street, paying much attention to the car that was about to pass, running a little. When I successfully came to the other side, I was surprised to see a person, a friend who I really, really love. A surprise it is — he was the one I was thinking about giving the yema to. However, I ate the yema at the oval since I knew it was more impossible than possible to see him around that afternoon. So, back to the surprise — I saw him and for a moment, I thought my mind was messing with me. I thought I was thinking too much and my mind was tricking me into thinking he's there when he isn't. But it's real, he was really standing in front of me. He said that the figure of me using my phone looked familiar.

I was already thankful for that, he's so close to my heart and was one of the people who kept me sane during the very difficult first sem days. Seeing him, being in his presence, getting to experience knowing I have such a friend — that was enough for me. That already lifted my heavy feeling and I may have uttered a prayer of thanks. God must have known I needed that.

While we were walking, he asked me to sit down for a while and we settled in one of the benches in front of the College of Engineering building. We talked about a lot of things. He's a very academic man and is a little more mature than I am. The things we talked about ranged from me taking up chess class — a class he has taken during the previous semester (with him giving me a crash course even if I audibly said "ayoko sayo" when he asked me to play with him) — to the names of my siblings to the posture of people who are jogging. He was the one who took the lead, asking questions that he may seem to have pre-planned in his mind. After all, in our friendship, he's the more organized one. He was very patient, too. We reminisced some moments from our own highschool lives. Of course, we also talked about the upcoming sem and how we felt about it. We may or may not have joked about a few things in between our "serious" discussion. I felt less alone. I learned a lot from him, like I always do; I also learned a lot about him.

As a person who prefers to capture the mood more than the plot, I can't really tell all the topics we touched on, but I know I can tell how I felt. It was a rare feeling but I only know a few people who had made me feel like that. It felt as if I am in a dream. The world looked dreamy, hazy and bright; I felt like it was easy to forget I am sitting in a bench because everything felt light, as if I am floating. It was one of the few days when I am aware that I am smiling. It felt good, it felt comfortable, it felt right. Though we talked in a place which is basically just on the side of the road and vehicles and people were passing by every once in a while, it felt as if they are less important, that they are just part of the milieu. I felt very in the moment, which is odd since an unhealthy habit I have is the fact that I either think too much about the past or the future.

When it was already getting dark, we decided to walk back to our respective dorms (his was kind of adjacent to mine). It felt like the first semester, the nights when we were walking from our philosophy class, the times when we would have little conversation about our lives (though it was just mostly me ranting and telling him how tired I am). He's a very kind man. I knew I wanted to hug him that much because if you'd ever meet such a beautiful person, I swear that would be your first instinct.

When it was the time to say goodbye, I hugged him a little longer than usual because I knew it would be long before I'd get to do that again and also because I really, really do love him. I felt strong and I felt a little more ready for the second semester.

It was so satisfying to have hugged him like that. When we parted, I knew I miss him already, but it was the satisfied kind of missing him, not the I-wish-I-did-this-I-wish-I-told-him-that kind.

It was a fairly beautiful day. It was definitely the calm before the storm. I may or may not have thought about it before I went to bed that night; I still think about it now. | elle