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etherrealoblivion · 4 years

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Drive Me Insane

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer Reid is always getting on your nerves. Tensions rise and one day, he pulls you into the file room and snaps… just not in the way you think….

A/N: Early-Season-Twelve!Spencer. this is full-on HATE SEX fulfilling this request by @safertokiss and this request by @mggswhore. It’s rough and v sexy and angsty. Gif is mine! Enjoy! <3

tags: smut, penetrative sex, hate sex, enemies to lovers, angry sex.

RATING: EXPLICIT

Words: 4,363

MASTERLIST

You fucking hated him! You HATED him!

“REID!” storming out of the elevator, you headed straight for the desk of the asshole who had pulled the worst prank ever. “What the fuck is this?!” you screamed, slamming your coffee cup down on his desk, the beverage slightly spilling onto his work papers.

“Hey!”

“Don’t you fucking ‘hey’ me!” you were trembling with anger, bouncing on the balls of your feet and trying to ignore the people staring around you. “Explain yourself!”

The little cockfuck put on the most innocent expression you’d ever seen him manage.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, more to the onlookers than you. “Is there a problem?”

“Did you put him up to this? Did you tell him to write that?”

“Write what?”

Huh. He actually looked genuinely confused. But you weren’t buying it. You knew how evil he could be, always teasing you, correcting you, moving your stuff around, pulling pranks. If it weren’t for his stupid, pouty face, you’d slap the look right off of it. Oh, and you were coworkers but that was honestly more of an afterthought.

When it came to Spencer Reid, there was nothing that could stop you from exacting your revenge. Except maybe Unit Chief Emily Prentiss. Who, conveniently, hadn’t arrived yet.

“Don’t bullshit me, Reid! You fucking told the barista downstairs to give me some phony number! What’s the joke? I call it and it’s a phone sex line? A suicide hotline? What?!”

But Spencer simply stared at the cup, mouth dropped open and staring at the ten neatly written digits gracing the side of your coffee cup, a little heart to the side of them.

Clearing his throat, he finally spoke, “I didn’t… I didn’t do this, Y/N.”

A refute to that was on the tip of your tongue but he suddenly looked at you and you noticed a slight tint to his cheeks that for some reason, had you believing him.

“Wait…. You mean…?”

“Yep.” He stood suddenly, chair flying out from behind him with the force with which he stood. “Looks like you’ve got an admirer. Excuse me,” he grunted, storming off down the hall, leaving you thoroughly perplexed.

“What…. What just happened?”

Tara approached you, placing a light hand on your shoulder.

“You got a dude’s number and thought it was a prank by Reid. Happens to the best of us.”

Well, yeah, that was rather obvious. You were more referring to the fact that he had stormed off once he came to the same realization.

But, as always, before you could think for too long, Garcia sent out a mass text alerting you to a new case. Your contemplation would have to wait for another time.

“Maybe he just didn’t want anyone to see him?”

The team was gathered around a roundtable in the dingy police office of Wamego, Kansas, discussing why the unsub was dumping the bodies so far on the outskirts of town.

“No, that doesn’t make sense,” Reid blurted, gesturing toward a map of the area. “There are more than enough areas to hide a body within the town’s limits. Plus, he dumped in the middle of the day so being seen isn’t his issue, he can hide easily in plain sight. The edge of town somehow connects to his comfort zo…. What?”

He trailed off once he noticed the grumpy look on your face. It wasn’t like you could help it! He was always refuting every little thing you said and constantly interrupting everyone.

“Well, Reid, if he’s so interested in the edge of town, why are all his victims abducted from the town square?”

Spencer stepped closer to you, eyes narrowing and lips turning downward.

“Maybe, Y/N,” he bit back, “he’s not picking these women at random, but targeting those he sees that look so obviously vulnerable. His end goal is to dominate them.”

“Seriously? Alexa Wells was a blue belt in karate and Tala Williams took a regular self-defense class. There was nothing vulnerable about these women at all!”

“If you weren’t so busy fretting over their physical capabilities maybe you would have noticed, they both possess a petite stature, making them more susceptible to attack.”

He was towering over you and staring at you with anger in his eyes. You, too, were having to fight back the urge to scream at him.

“So, what, you’re saying everyone with a small stature is asking to be dominated!”

“Nope, just you.”

He looked more shocked at his words than you did, taking a step back and glancing around the room for a moment before referring back to the map.

“I’m-I’m saying that the-the victims were all-all small—of-of small stature and that’s a-that’s a connection. Excuse me.”

And he bustled out of the room, leaving behind an audience of your coworkers whose gaze fell on you. Uncomfortable with the weight of their eyes on you, you excused yourself as politely as you could despite the anger and confusion rising in your throat. You didn’t return until you managed to compose yourself, and by then, the team had a new lead and Reid’s outburst was forgotten.

But not by you.

If the word ‘hate’ was a face, to you, it’d be Reid’s. To be fair, his face did possess a very… slappable quality. But, of course, you’d never act on that impulse. He never could quite push you to that edge. But, oh god, he got close sometimes.

Jesus. It was nearly 6:00 AM and you’d gotten a text about fifteen minutes ago from Garcia, summoning you in. Now, sitting in the briefing room, your thoughts had begun to wander into very vulnerable territory.

“Y/N?”

His voice grated your ears like sandpaper, the perfect tool to snap you out of your reverie. Why the hell did he have to arrive so goddamn early?

“Yes, Reid?” you replied, putting on the most bored voice you could manage, not even bothering to spare him a glance as he sat down in the seat immediately next to you, shrugging off his shoulder bag.

“Why are you here so early?”

You looked at him, startled by the question. Who the hell was he to ask you that? He came in early all the time and you never bothered him about it.

“None of your business,” you snorted, glancing down at your phone, trying to get back to reading your article. But with Reid in the room, it was hopeless.

“Jeez. Okay. I was just asking a question. You know, when someone is so defensive it actually has a lot to do with their social life. Usually, they aren’t getting enough mental stimulation outside of work and in rare cases, it attributes directly to whether or not they’ve been receiving enough pleasurable intercourse.”

He nodded curtly as he finished, his own gaze dropping to a regular manilla folder, not even taking in your expression of pure shock. He must’ve found your silence startling enough because soon after, he looked up at you, crooking an eyebrow.

“What?” Quickly, his expression shifted to a mix of understanding and his cheeks went red so quickly. “Oh! I wasn’t saying that-that-that you weren’t… that you aren’t… I mean, not that you are… I just mean that….”

“What, you’re saying I’m not getting fucked properly?”

His mouth dropped open just as Rossi and Alvez entered, conversing loudly enough to miss your snarky comment. Clearly, though, they could detect the charged atmosphere in the room.

“Are we interrupting?” Rossi, the bastard, asked coolly, taking a seat as Luke did the same.

“Nope,” you smirked as more of the team entered. “Not at all.”

Although there was a pressing case to focus on, you couldn’t help but glance at Reid a little more often than usual.

“Alvez, Lewis, you two talk to the parents. Reid, Y/L/N, go to the BDSM shop and see what they can tell us about the whip.”

The urge to roll your eyes and groan was almost too great. Being in a car with Reid for too long gave you hives and as you typed the address into your phone, you glared at your phone for displaying the time to get there as a whole half hour. In a car. Alone. With Reid.

Strangely enough, it had been about a week or so since he’d made any snarky comments to you, seemingly preferring to keep his distance. You wondered what being stuck in a car together would be like. Hopefully quiet. Silent, ideally.

You really shouldn’t have raised your expectations.

“So, the whip is actually a pretty common item so if he paid with cash, it’s likely there won’t be much of a trail. If you wanna wait in the car, I understand, I can just run in and get the info.”

Huh?

“Why would I wait in the car?” That might’ve been the first genuine question you’d ever asked him excluding when you’d first met and asked his name. Since then, it had been a whirlwind of sarcasm and rhetoric.

“Y/N, it’s a sex shop,” he said, a slight glance over to you as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel slightly.

“And?”

“Well… I mean, you don’t wanna go in there.”

“Says who? Reid, it’s part of the job. I’m not scared of sex like you are.”

That got him stuttering, huffing and puffing, and trying to backtrack so fast he might as well have thrown the car in reverse. But you had arrived before you knew it, settling into an empty spot right in front of the store.

“I-I’m not s-scared of… of… I’m not scared of that!”

Unbuckling your seatbelt, a surge of confidence rushed through you as you exited the car, quickly quipping, “Oh, I can tell judging by how easy it is for you to talk about. It’s okay, Reid. Not everyone can handle dominating someone. Certainly not someone as submissive as yourself.”

As you entered the shop, you could feel his tension next to you the whole time you questioned the woman at the front desk. But there was something… off about it. It was like he wasn’t nervous being in the shop, he had no issue making eye-contact with the witness, speaking calmly and coolly, and not avoiding looking at the various sex toys scattered about. No, he was nervous about something else. Something you had said?

But it wasn’t like you didn’t tease him ruthlessly and regularly anyway. Had you struck a nerve? What was different?

Maybe he just didn’t like talking about sex stuff with you. It made sense, he hated your guts. Still…. There was something.

Something that didn’t get brought back up again until a week later, when the two of you were sitting at your desks during a lunch break with everyone gathered around, conversing quietly. Then Alvez had to go and stir the pot like the little pot-stirrer he was.

“Well, I’d have killed to see how Reid acts in a sex shop. Hey, Y/L/N, please tell me there were lots of dildos,” he joked, earning a laugh from the majority and a groan from Reid.

“Actually, he was much less freaked out than I expected. I assume it’s because he didn’t know what half the stuff in there was.”

Sparing a glance at Reid, you were startled to find he wasn’t looking away in embarrassment, but staring straight at you, glaring daggers.

The laughter bubbling up inside your throat at the teasing immediately subsided, replaced with a sudden rush of… fear? No, that can’t be right. You weren’t scared of Spencer Reid. The guy was harmless. Right?

“Can I talk to you privately, Y/N?” he hadn’t said it like a question you could say no to, rising from his seat and storming off to the file room.

Resistance was futile, and in this case, unnecessary, because whatever Reid had to say to you in that room, you could easily turn against him. Ricocheting his remarks came so naturally sometimes you didn’t even notice you were doing it.

You entered the filing room, fully expecting to see Reid shuffling papers and mumbling, working up the courage to yell at you.

Which is why you didn’t expect to be shoved up against the door as it slammed shut behind you, Reid pinning his hands on either side of your head, holding your faces inches apart. Your breath left and so did the words you’d been rehearsing on the short walk to the small room. You felt your mouth drop open and your gaze unintentionally fell to his lips. It took you a minute to realize he’d been talking. Desperately trying to play back what he’d said, you felt your earlier anger rise back up in your throat.

“What’s your problem with me? Huh?” he was unrelentingly forcing you to meet his eyes. “Why are you always coming after me for the stuff I say? Jesus, you’d think you’d show me a little compassion sometimes, but nooooo. Little miss princess just gets off so good making the team punching bag feel like a piece of shit.”

At his words, you finally found your voice.

“Me? You’re always the one fucking correcting me and bossing me around! You pick fights with me all the goddamn time!”

“Name one time.”

“Hmm, let me see, the time you told Garcia you needed her to hack my phone for a case! The time you fucking told me I was asking to be dominated. Just last week you assumed I didn’t wanna go into a sex shop because, what, I’m too innocent? Or maybe you just want to think of me that way and you hate that it’s not true. Hey, how about the time you pulled me into the file room and pinned me up against the door like a goddamn butterfly?”

You were getting to him, you could tell. His face had slackened but his gaze was much stronger, scrutinizing all of your features carefully.

“You know what else? You’re the only one on the team that calls me by my first name. And I have no idea why! Is it just to bother me or do you actually just not care about giving me any indicators that you respect me? I’ve been a profiler for ten years now and I still can’t read you for shit! You’re so fucking hot and cold you give me freezer burn! Christ, Reid. Sometimes I can’t tell whether you wanna fight me or fuck me!”

Three seconds. That was the time it took you to register that his lips were suddenly on yours, biting and nipping, tongue fighting to get into your mouth.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the FUCK!

Okay, listen… Normally, if someone you hated with all your heart pressed you up against a door and started to make out with you with the force of a thousand suns, you’d do what any sane person would do; shove them off of you and kick them in the junk.

But Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane.

So, when you suddenly found your hands grabbing his face and pulling him in closer to you, opening your mouth enough to let him devour you whole, it wasn’t all that much of a rational decision. In fact, a whole series of irrational decisions happened in quick succession.

He was pressing you against the door so harshly, it felt safe to let your feet leave the ground, legs coiling around his hips and gasping into his mouth as you felt his length brush your inner thigh. Fuck, he was hard. Oh god. The pressure must have caused your mind to really comprehend what in the fuck was happening here.

Spencer Reid was kissing you up against a wall at work. But that wasn’t even the weird part. The weird part was... you actually liked it.

So, pushing down the thoughts of what a terrible idea this was, your hands gripped the lapel of his suit jacket, frantically pushing it off of his shoulders. As it hit the floor, he groaned, seemingly realizing where you wanted things to go.

He pulled back, tearing open the buttons of your blouse, words falling from his beautifully swollen lips.

“You’re such a goddamn tease. All the time. Wearing these tight little tops and expecting me to not rip it off of you?” he tsked, pulling open the top to reveal your bra, stopping in his tracks at the sight.

He was taking too long. Too fucking long.

Your hands reached for his belt, hurriedly sliding the leather from the strap, snapping it off of his pants and pushing them down.

“Don’t act like you didn’t want this to happen,” you snarked as he picked you up and plopped you down on the small metal table in the center of the room, brushing aside all the papers atop it. Your back hitting the cool metal made you hiss but you went on, “I bet you brought me in here because you knew if we were alone together for more than five seconds, you’d snap. You wanted to fuck me, Reid.”

You were trying to sound like you still had some wits about you, but the truth was, they’d all flown out the window the moment his lips met yours. Those fucking lips.

He didn’t bother denying your claims, opting to roughly pull down your skirt and underwear, one strong hand tightly holding your bare thigh the whole time. Those fucking hands.

“Maybe,” when he spoke again, his voice had dropped two octaves, a register you’d never heard before that sent a flicker of pure delight through your veins, “you’re projecting, Y/N. I think you’ve wanted me to hold you down and fuck you this whole time. You’ve wanted me to shut that pretty little princess mouth up in any and every way possible so you rattle off teases and insults to make up for the fact that you’re just a little whore who is begging to be fucked.”

You heard your moan echo around the room before you even noticed you’d opened your mouth. Quickly, but not quickly enough, his huge hand snapped over your lips, stopping any further sounds from escaping. His other hand dug into his pants pocket and you could hear the crinkle of tin as he rolled on a condom.

All you heard before the world disappeared was, “Shut the fuck up,” as he slid into you in one perfect thrust, his left hand roughly digging into your hip as he grunted with the effort of holding back. But that wasn’t what you wanted. That wasn’t the point of this. And you told him just that.

“Reid,” you groaned through his hand and he relinquished his hold, “fucking fuck me!”

Apparently, you didn’t need to tell him twice.

He didn’t even bother trying to ease you into it, roughly grabbing your hips and pulling you against him with each sharp thrust. It took all you had to keep from screaming as a wonderful mix of pain and pleasure pushed you closer to the edge. Jesus, you were close to coming already after barely a minute.

It was like you said, Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane.

Still, you weren’t quite ready to submit to him completely. There was still quite a bit of fight left in you.

“I bet you’re loving this. Thinking you’re finally in charge of me. I got news for you, Reid,” grabbing his shoulders, you pulled him down so you could whisper in his ear, relishing in the hiss he emitted at the change in angle. “I’m more than you can handle.”

Saying he went wild would be an understatement. He somehow managed to lift you all the way up off of the table, spin you around, and reenter you sharply within the span of two seconds. This time, you couldn’t stop the pathetic mewl that left your throat at the feeling of him inside of you.

Actually, what probably got you was the horrible, dirty things he was whispering in your ear unrelentingly as he pounded into you, one hand on your hip and the other yanking your hair back roughly.

“You think I don’t know how to handle a spoiled little princess? Tell me, who’s the one moaning and writhing underneath me? Huh? Oh, can you not answer because I’ve got my cock buried in you?” He slipped the hand that was in your hair down to your cheeks, squeezing and forcing them into a pucker. “Answer me.”

You could feel how close you were but his thrusts were so slow and patient now. He wasn’t nearly as close as you were. If you were doing this, you were making him come first. You needed to keep some power. You did decide to relinquish a bit of control to him.

“P-Please, Reid….” you whispered, smiling to yourself as he responded exactly as you’d expected.

“Please, what?”

He was moving so slowly now, barely giving you any relief, slowly pushing in the tip only to pull out hastily, leaving you grinding back on his for more.

“Please… please tell me you don’t actually believe that,” you snarked, pleased with the way he suddenly froze, seemingly not expecting to hear that from you.

Your shock, however, didn’t last long. Because after a very pregnant pause, you heard the rush of air come from behind you. Because you felt a sharp, sudden, stinging pain on your left asscheek. Because Spencer Reid had just fucking spanked you.

“Ahh!” you yelped as the heat flared up your body as he sped up his thrusts, entering you deeper and deeper each time.

“I think someone needs to teach you a lesson about what happens when you mouth off to the wrong person. This,” he added with a particularly sharp thrust, “is your punishment, princess. You actually thought I couldn’t handle dominating a little brat like you? You’re the one begging to be filled up like a little whore.”

“Reid,” you let the name slip, feeling yourself slowly giving in more and more the further he pushed you.

“Say my fucking name, princess.”

“Ah! Spe– fuck! Reid!” you keened, happily letting your body give in to the feeling of being totally and utterly used by him, barely noticing almost calling him his first name.

“Tell me, princess, do you even know how tight your little cunt is bouncing back on my cock? I bet I feel so big inside you. I guess you finally got what you needed: to be fucked properly. You’re lucky that I’m the one to do it. I know just how to handle you.”

You groaned as he snaked a hand around you to circle your clit relentlessly, barely managing enough energy to squeak, “I hate you.”

There was anger behind the words, but not honesty. And Spencer knew. It was clear as he leaned in to whisper in your ear a final time, he also knew exactly how to push you over the edge.

“Prove it.”

And in an instant, your climax hit you, washing over you like a waterfall, feeling your walls clench and tighten around Reid’s cock. Drowning in the pleasure of your orgasm, you didn’t even notice the way he grunted as he spilled himself inside of you.

You definitely didn’t notice the way he planted soft kisses to your shoulder blades as he pulled out, whispering small strings of praise. Or the way he stroked your thigh as he carefully pulled your underwear back up. You definitely didn’t notice that.

You hadn’t quite regained your energy, but you knew you had to stand up. Every muscle in your body, however, begged you to collapse to the floor. Luckily, Spencer caught you, prompting you to look up at him, trying not to show the hope that was so obviously shimmering in your eyes.

Strangely, he seemed to be looking at you in a similar sense. Not exactly hopeful but… worried?

“You okay?”

You nodded weakly, breaking the eye-contact and pulling away from him, scurrying to put your clothes back on.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

You knew you sounded curt but you just couldn’t bring yourself to express emotion right now. It was stupid, you knew, but in the heat of the moment, you had felt… connected to him. In a purely animalistic way, surely. In a ‘fuck me so hard you impregnate me’ way.

Pushing the fact that that thought got you a little excited to the back of your mind, you turned back to Reid who had also fully redressed. He was shifting on his feet, avoiding looking at you fully.

“Well, now we know what to do next time we butt heads,” you joked, smiling softly to diffuse the tension.

He laughed but you could tell it was superficial. There was something the two of you weren’t saying and you were both waiting for the other to say first.

“We should probably get back out there, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, coughing and doing a ‘ladies first’ motion towards the door.

“Thanks,” you muttered, opening the door slightly, then glancing back at Reid, seeing him looking at you with the words neither of you would say.

“Hey, Spencer?”

He tried not to let his shock show but he did a horrible job. You couldn’t blame him though, it was the first time you’d ever called him by his first name.

“Y-yeah?”

“I… I don’t hate you.”

It wasn’t much, but he smiled liked it was everything. Maybe, in your own special way, it was.

“I don’t hate you, too.”

Giving him a little nod of your head, there was no way you could suppress the joyous smile that lit up your face as you exited the file room. Your coworkers would surely be suspicious, but you didn’t want to think about that right now. Spencer was the only thing on your mind the whole rest of the day and you were sure he’d stay there well into the week.

After all, Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane. Now, you knew, in more ways than one.

TO BE ADDED TO TAGLIST

(sorry if the tags aren’t working! i’ve been having some trouble)

@whollytaciturn @101donuts @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss @cielo1984 @thupidalthea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid@aloha-ashley-taylor@justchiara-02@spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin@dreamy-reid @brokenanxiety @thatsonezesty13 @psychedelic-phase @beautifulalmondstudentduck@awhollandx@baddreamsandbrokenhearts@simp-for-mgg @swagdaddycam@gejatume@url-under-construction@krymson182@addie5264 @pinkdiamond1016 @gublergirls @georgia4287 @thineeminnie @untainted-memories @cm-is-kinda-cool @le-vie-en-amour1 @happyiidiot @wechillingcoop @blankets-for-bees @stewie-castle @dolanfivsosxox

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid gifs #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #matthew gray gubler #fanfic #fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #fandom #etherrealoblivion #smut #season twelve reid #reid #spencer

3K notes · View notes

boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Hypothetically | Chapter 16-20

summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

Word Count: 10k

chapter 16

It was 7 am when they got the call. Y/N had barely gotten any sleep that night, Spencer was adamant that laying on the left side helps maximize blood flow. Meaning she faced the wall all night with him happily cuddled into her back. She hated it.

Between peeing 100 times a day and the constant heartburn, she couldn’t really pick the worst part about creating a human.

It fuckin’ sucked and no one thought to warn her.

She dragged herself out of bed, trying her best to do her morning routine with only one eye open. Spencer, on the other hand, seemed to bounce out of bed like he slept 12 hours. Dancing around the kitchen as he poured his coffee and took a smoothie out of the fridge for Y/N.

He fed the cat, changed the litter and even took out the garbage by the time she pulled herself from the bathroom and to her closet.

Her jeans didn’t fit, she let herself take a minute to cry out of frustration in the closet before she looked for anything presentable. The only pants she could get into were a pair of leggings, and at that point, she didn’t care anymore. She was probably going to stay back with Penelope anyway.

She threw on an FBI sweater to hide her bump from the rest of her co-workers, grabbed the rest of her shit and followed Spencer to the car. Getting in the passenger seat and immediately closing her eyes again.

“Wake me up when we’re at Quantico,” she told him. Leaning against the window, ignoring the world.

Maternity parking was the only bonus, she only had to walk 4 feet from her car to the elevator. She felt lazy, but she was allowed to.

“Hopefully,” Spencer finally spoke to her as they entered the elevator. “At the end of this week, your energy should return as your placenta is done developing. You’re the most tired right now because your organs are working 3 times harder than they’re used to.”

“I’m tired because I had nothing to cuddle with all night, but thanks for the insight,” she tried her best to be cheery.

The door dinged, opening to the rest of the team standing in the entryway. “What’s up?” Y/N asked them.

“Hotch got a call, we’ve got a weird one coming in, he’s in his office talking to someone right now,” Morgan said. He looked just as tired as Y/N.

“Are we going in?” She asked, walking past them and towards the bullpen.

She rushed through the room and waddled up the stairs, searching for a chair before she actually passed out. Everyone followed her soon after, patting her back as they walked around the table to their seats.

“Over the past few months 6 feet have washed up on different beaches along the coast of Maine,” Penelope started explaining the case while Hotch was still on the phone in his office.

“6 feet belonging to 6 different people, all incredibly hard to identify. Interpol, Europol, the RCMP and the FBI have all been in communication with each other as no one knows where the feet washed in from. International Water laws prohibit just one of us from taking jurisdiction until we identify the nationality of the victims.”

“How are we going to Identify the feet?” Prentiss asked.

“We’re currently running the DNA against missing persons along the east coast as well as anyone who recently travelled to North America by boat, so far we don’t have any matches. We do know all 6 feet are white so hopefully, hopefully,” Garcia repeated for extra magic help, “this isn’t a refugee transport gone wrong.”

“We’ve been seeing an increase of boating accidents from Syrian refugees recently,” Spencer added. “The wars in the middle east are continuing to push people from their homes in mass numbers, meaning a lot of the boats are overpacked and capsize mid extraction.”

“So we’re probably looking at someone from North America who is using their own boat to sail out and release victims,” Y/N added. “Do we have the ME reports on the 6 feet?”

“Oh, yeah,” Garcia said, flipping through papers and handing them to her.

She read it over carefully, trying to see through her new blurred vision. Another wonderful pregnancy symptom. “Normally when feet wash up on shore, they’re in shoes. If a body is lost in a boating accident or drowning, the rubber soles will always want to float to the surface. When a body is decaying in water long enough the bones will separate, and when the ankle bone goes, the feet float to the surface,” Y/N explained.

“How do you just know that?” Rossi asked.

“In Nevada, we had a lot of drownings in a man-made lake, people would get stuck at the bottom on tree roots. And every year a few feet would wash up,” she added. “I only explained that because it says in the ME report that the feet were cut with a sharp blade, all clean cuts with no shoes or socks. So someone is cutting these bodies up and bringing them out to sea, probably to use as bait for a big catch.”

“It’s weird to me that the feet are the only parts washing up?” JJ’s face was absolutely puzzled as she flipped through the files.

“Not really,” Y/N argued, “I’m more concerned with why he’d even cut the feet, to begin with. With most shark attacks they go for full limbs, if I was the unsub and I was cutting the body up for bait, I wouldn’t make the pieces so small. There isn’t enough blood or flesh on feet to entice a large fish or shark to take it.”

Rossi was tapping his fingers against the table, “Do you think he wants us to find the feet?”

“I’m not sure, but it doesn’t look good.”

Then, Hotch finally walked in. “Which 3 of you want to travel to Maine to take a look at all the findings?” Prentiss, Morgan and Rossi raised their hands, “alright, meet me on the runway in 20. The rest of you, find a way to identify the feet.”

—

She sat at her desk most of the morning, munching on a bag of animal crackers to keep her nausea at bay. JJ brought her a cold ginger ale around 11, rubbing her back for a bit while she flipped through files.

She had a doctor’s appointment during lunch that day, so she headed downtown to give blood in the hour she was permitted. Knowing that she could be late and no one would really care.

She waited in Dr. Korrapati’s room patiently, looking at her arm as she rested it on the table. Her veins were more prominent now than they had ever been in her life. JJ insured her that they would go back down but it did make her a little self-conscious.

“Hey mama,” Dr. Korrapati cheered as she walked into the room. “How are we feeling?”

“Good, tired but good.”

“Work kicking your butt?” She asked as she prepped her arm for the blood draw. “Or just the baby?”

“Having a hard time finding a comfortable sleeping position, I’m probably going to get one of those long pillow things to help,” she rambled to take her mind off what was going on with her arm.

For someone who looked at dead bodies as her job, seeing her own blood freaked her out. Dr. Korrapati noticed she was a little stressed, “how about when I’m done here we take a look at your little person?”

That piqued her interest, she sat completely still and looked away as the nicest doctor she could’ve asked for, got the test over and done with, in record-breaking time.

“Do you have any other symptoms that are bothering you?” She asked as she wrote the exact tests down in her paperwork.

“Yeah,” she struggled with the sleeve of her shirt as she tucked her arm back in. “The nausea is driving me nuts, I’m living on animal crackers and ginger ale.”

“If you eat small meals every few hours it should settle it out,” she explained. “But if it is really bothering you we can give you some anti-nausea medication.”

“I tried that, everyone keeps bringing me snacks and trying to take care of me but I don’t want anything because I’m so tired,” she ranted as she climbed onto the exam table.

“Have you tried sleeping on the other side of the bed?” She asked.

“no, why?”

Dr. Korrapati laughed, “you sleep on the left side of the bed right?”

“Yeah?” She questioned, wondering how an OB could profile so well.

“So I'm assuming your smart and overprotective boyfriend has advised you to lay on your left side like he told JJ?” She smiled. “And because you sleep on the left side of the bed already, that means you’re not cuddled into him. He’s the big spoon now and you hate it.”

It was like a lightbulb went off in her head, “oh my god?”

They laughed at the fact it was so obvious and she never clued in. “It happens all the time, you’re so in a routine that you don’t realize you can just switch sides and it’ll work.”

“You’re so smart!”

“Ready to hear and see this baby of yours?” She asked, waiting for Y/N to raise her shirt and lower her leggings to expose her lower stomach.

“Can we?”

“Yep,” she nodded, “you’re in week 9, so you’re exiting the embryo stage and moving towards the fetal stage. We’ll be able to see the fetus and hear the heartbeat.”

“Can I record it for Spencer?” She asked, not wanting him to miss it.

“I’ll do you one better and put it on a disk for you.”

Just like that, she was smothering her stomach in warm jelly. Spreading it around with the ultrasound wand before she began to search for them. Pressing in slightly on her right side, she heard her own heartbeat whooshing. The closer she got to the centre, the more they heard the second.

Her baby’s heartbeat was strong. She saw them on the monitor, they had changed from being a jellybean to actually looking like a person. 4 strong limbs were stretching and moving, growing faster than she thought possible.

“That’s insane?” She was in such awe of it, “when will I feel the kicking and stuff?”

“In a few more months, they’re only the size of a green olive. You’ll probably feel it around Christmas?” She guessed. “You’ll be 16 weeks around then.”

“Wow okay,” she was just astounded by the magic of growing a child, she felt like absolute shit but it all made sense at that moment. In just a week, muscles and limbs formed and her baby grew the ability to self-soothe in the womb. Growing 10 fingers and toes that they already knew how to put in their mouth.

She cleaned the gel off Y/N’s stomach and began exporting the files for her. “So, I will call you when the results are in, and I can just email you guys a copy and go over it with you on the phone when you’re free? I know your job is unpredictable?”

“That would be perfect, thank you. We’re working on an international case right now so for all I know I’ll be in Ireland next week,” She laughed.

“Of course, take care of yourself make sure you’re taking all the vitamins and having 8 cups of clear fluids a day, you have to stay hydrated.” Dr. Korrapati handed her the disk in a sleeve as well as her contact card.

“Yes ma’am, I can’t wait to hear from you,” she smiled before leaving the office.

—

Y/N walked back into the BAU around 1:15, wandering down the hall to Penelope’s office to get a rundown of what she missed.

Spencer and JJ had the same idea, all turning towards the door as Y/N walked in, “hey.”

“How was it?” Spencer asked softly, beckoning her to his lap.

She sat down on him softly, “I got a DVD copy of the ultrasound.” She waved the disk around. “But, we can’t watch it until I get a rundown on what we know so far.”

“I hate how professional you are sometimes,” Penelope huffed. “Luckily, it is very important.”

“We matched a tattoo on one of the feet to a missing person’s case in Nova Scotia. So we focused our efforts on missing person’s cases who fit the same features and backgrounds as her,” JJ explained.

“Okay cool, who was she?”

“Andrea Carlton, 18. She was hitchhiking, apparently wanting to run away to meet her boyfriend in Newfoundland. I traced her transactions before she disappeared and it looks like she bought a ferry ticket, however, there are no reports of her ever getting on it,” Penelope added. “So I’ve looked into other people from Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick and Newfoundland, who went missing hitchhiking or after booking a ferry ticket.”

“Smart, how many matches did we get?”

“5,” She laughed.

“You’re kidding?”

They all shook their heads, “nope. And we were able to match all the feet to them.”

Y/N handed the ultrasound video over to Penelope. “Your reward.”

She snatched it from her hands so fast, taking it out of the packaging and shoving it in her CD port. Loading the file within seconds.

She watched Spencer’s face the whole time. Already having seen the footage herself, knowing the real show would be his reaction.

He was so mesmerized, his eyes blown up in awe as tears welled. His grip on her leg was more intense, he was squeezing along to the beat of the baby’s heart, absentmindedly. He shook his head in disbelief, that was his baby in there.

The phone rang before they could really talk about it, Hotch requesting the team hop on a plane and meet them in Nova Scotia. The RCMP and the FBI have taken sole jurisdiction over the case.

Y/N was able to convince him that it would be best if they get some sleep before they go. He agreed, telling them he expected to see them in Canada at 10 am sharp.

“Before we go home tonight can you cross-reference freelance charter boats or fishermen in the area the day each victim missed a ferry? Someone desperate to get a ride might be willing to hop in a boat with anyone going where they are,” Y/N suggested to Garcia.

“I’ll run it in the background, you two go home and get some rest so my god-baby can get big and strong!” She hugged her lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Y/N and Spencer didn’t need to be told twice, practically running to their car. She let out the deepest sigh ever once she had her seatbelt on, so excited to go home.

Spencer drove them home, getting used to it as she got more pregnant. Soon she’d be too big to drive at all let alone stay awake the whole time.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asked as they cleared the security check.

“Good, Dr. Korrapati is going to email us the results when they’re in and go over them with us on the phone. I told her we’d probably end up going out of the country soon,” Y/N recalled the day.

“The ultrasound was so cool,” he gushed.

“Yeah,” She smiled. Reaching to hold his hand on the centre console. “She also suggested we switch sides of the bed so that we can still cuddle while I’m on my left side.”

“She’s a genius.”

“that’s what I said!” She laughed, “literally how dumb are we?”

“187 till I become a dad and then I’m an idiot,” he smiled back at her quickly. “I’m glad you had a good day. Now we can go eat and get a full night’s rest.”

She let out another deep breath, “I can’t wait to cuddle.”

—

Garcia was waiting for them at the elevator the next morning. “Patrick Timmins.”

“Who?” Y/N asked, fully awake and ready to go, just confused by the ambush.

“I ran the perimeters that you asked for and I found a freelance fisherman slash charter service run by a guy named Patrick Timmins,” Garcia explained. “The townspeople call him Patty Tims, they think he’s fine and lovely according to his Yelp page but his criminal record tells a different story.”

“Really? I thought that was such a long shot!” Y/N was cheery from the extra sleep she got with Dr. Korrapati’s advice.

“The plane is ready when you guys are, I have all the updated info in this as well as some snacks for the plane,” she handed Spencer a cloth bag.

“What would I do without you? My pretty penny,” she kissed her friend on the cheek.

“If it means I get some sugar from you, I’ll do anything,” Garcia flirted with her in the absence of Morgan. “Go get on your plane, I will see you when you return my loves.”

They landed in Nova Scotia around 10 am like Hotch had requested. Bypassing customs and driving directly to the RCMP headquarters. They needed to come up with a plan, they had no idea how to find a man who travels by boat and lives at sea.

“We could always send undercover’s out in the areas he’s picked up before, have them dress as hitchhikers, miss the ferries and wait and see who tries to pick you up. Everyone will have a team watching and police boats on standby?” Morgan was theorizing as Spencer, Y/N and JJ walked in.

“We have report’s that he’s in the bay, if we’re going to do this we need to do it now,” An RCMP officer she hadn’t met yet announced to the room. “Who here is comfortable posing as a vic?”

JJ raised her hand, “get me some dirty clothes and I can be ready in 5.”

They raided the lost and found, they filled a backpack with random things and tried their best to dirty her fingernails and hair. She looked like she had been travelling without a proper place to stay for a while.

They managed to hide a wire on her, prepping what she was going to say if she was in danger and they needed to move in. Hiding a gun and a knife in her socks in case she needed them later.

They drove her down to the bay dropping her off 1 kilometre away, letting her walk into town while they parked closer to watch with binoculars. They planned it for her to arrive as the ferry pulled out of the bay.

She ran down the dock, trying to catch the ferry. Putting on the best performance of: “fuck, I missed the boat!” That they had ever seen.

“She’s going to win an Oscar,” Morgan whispered in the back of the surveillance van, trying to make Y/N laugh.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” They heard over the wire, trying to identify the source of the voice. The man was standing on his boat, hanging over the edge to get JJ’s attention.

“I missed the ferry, do you know when it’ll be back?” She played dumb. “I promised my mom I’d be back tonight and now I won’t be.”

“I can give you a ride, for a price,” the man suggested. “Names, Patty Tims.”

Hotch turned around from the front seat and motioned for Y/N and Morgan to head out quietly without making a scene. Listening in their headsets as JJ replied. “How much?”

They hid around the corner of the ticket booth, watching as the undercover officers walked around the civilians.

“Just a simple photo, I like to put a face to the stories I run across. Come on up,” he motioned for her to get on the boat.

She walked closer to him, “I don’t know sir, I should probably wait for the ferry.” She smiled.

“No,” he ground his teeth together and clenched his jaw, reaching for her.

She grabbed his arm and flipped him, getting into the boat and pushing him to the ground. She cuffed him by the time Morgan and Y/N could board. “What the fuck is this?” He struggled in her grasp.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of 6 people,” JJ replied, about to tell him his rights.

“Only 6?” He laughed.

JJ shoved him into the floor harder, reading him his rights before lifting him to his feet and shoving him off the boat and into RCMP custody.

Y/N lifted her hand up to high five JJ, pulling her into a half hug as they walked back to the surveillance van.

She never had a sister before, JJ was probably the only woman in her life that she felt this close to. It was mostly to do with the fact she’s always been so wonderful to Spencer. She helped him feel loved before Y/N, and that was important to her.

“Can we search the boat? Or are we still waiting on the warrant?” Y/N just wanted to check with Hotch before she barged onto the boat. Not wanting to jeopardize what they’re allowed to enter into evidence.

“We got it, you can start looking,” Hotch said, handing her a pair of gloves and a handful of evidence bags.

JJ went with her. They walked in together, noticing that he wasn’t lying about wanting a photo to go with the story. Below the deck, the entire wall was filled with Polaroids of terrified people moments before their deaths.

They bagged them all into evidence, dreading having to put them all into the system and match them to missing person’s reports. Delivering the news that someone’s loved one was gone for good was never fun.

Telling 58 families that their loved one was dead was a nightmare.

chapter 17

She’s a little confused when she wakes up to the sound of geese honking. Rolling away from Spencer’s embrace and immediately being blinded by the sunlight in the room. She sat up in a small panic.

She had forgotten that they stayed the night at the new house.

The large windows in the bedroom faced the water. She could see the sun’s reflection on the lake as it stretched over the house from the east. It was absolutely stunning. She could get used to waking up early with a screaming baby if this was the view.

Then she remembered it was the day they got their test results, she bounced a little as she reached for her phone to check her messages.

“Morning bunny,” Spencer’s groggy morning voice startled her a little.

“Bunny?” She questioned, never hearing him call her any form of nickname before.

He reached out of her, wrapping his arms around her growing belly, resting his head in her lap. “Have you ever noticed you hop a little bit when you get excited?”

“Yeah, it’s called Asperger’s,” she smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s honestly better than bugs bunny though, just don’t throw carrots at me okay?” She laughed to herself as she recalled the childhood trauma.

It was a little funny, looking back now.

“Never, you’re my bunny. I love my bunny.”

He was so soft in the mornings. Snuggling in against her skin as he slowly woke up. He stretched and yawned a bit, making the cutest little sounds as he did so.

She kept her fingers in his hair, twirling the ends every once and a while. Mostly running her nails along his scalp, soothing that big beautiful brain of his that she loved so much.

“We find out what the sex is today,” she reminded him.

He lifted up her shirt to expose her belly. Kissing the skin as she laid back against the pillows.

“What’s going on in there today?” She asked softly.

“They’re the size of a prune,” he mused. “speaking of, as you enter the fetus stage this week you’re going to get constipated.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “thanks that’s exactly what I wanted to know!”

“Right now the fetal development is focusing primarily on the bones, tummy and teeth,” he explained with the largest smile on his face.

“There we go.”

He hovered over her, brushing the hair from her face so he could look at her, “You look so beautiful right now.”

He said that as if he wasn’t blocking the sun from her view, perfectly casting a halo glow around him. She placed her hand on his cheek, “I love you.”

He leaned in and kissed her, pressing his body softly against her’s. “I love you,” he whispered between kisses. Covering her face and neck with small pecks, making her laugh as he covered her body in kisses.

The phone rang on Spencer’s night table causing him to press his forehead against her hip, letting out a deep sigh. Y/N reached over and picked it up. “Doctor Spencer Reid’s phone,” she answered. “He can't come to the phone right now, can I take a message?”

“Funny,” Penelope replied.

“We have a case,” Morgan added.

“What time do we need to be on the plane by?” She asked.

“Uh, it’s 7:46 now, so you’ve got an hour, tops?” Penelope guessed, “why?”

“I said he was busy. I’ll see you later.” She hung up.

“You did not just do that?” He looked absolutely horrified, his whole face turning pink.

“They could either think you got some, or you could actually get some?” She teased. “We have an hour.”

—

“All 3 Vic’s had been strangled and raped before they were wrapped in plastic and released into the river,” Garcia explained to the team over the laptop as they travelled through the sky. “Washing away all of the unsub’s DNA, however, they did find carpet fragments under the victim’s finger-“

“Like the ’84 Oklahoma Child Murders,” Y/N cut her off.

“What?” Garcia asked.

“Oklahoma 1981 to 1984. Local black children between the age of approximately 6 and 17 were being abducted, raped and murdered. Their bodies were mostly discovered in wooded areas and along the edges of the river, never submerged. The BAU worked the case, only ever being able to solve the last 2 murders before the Oklahoma governor, I think, kicked you off the case, right? They cared more about the money going towards the investigation than the black children going missing,” She explained.

“Gideon and I tried,” Rossi said. Still very bothered by the ending. “We wanted to catch the guy, the last 2 murders were so different from the others and yet the local cops considered it the same guy. Much like this new unsub, he raped young men before strangling them and dropping them in the river. All the way down to the carpet fibres.”

“It ended up being a local man named Oscar Pope, they caught him dumping an older male victim at a police checkpoint. They matched carpet fibres at his house to the 2 rivers Vic’s, but none of the children,” Prentiss cut in. “This has to be a copycat right?”

“We don’t know that,” Y/N added. “The BAU was working the angle that a local boy who knew the majority of the victims was in on it. Um, Daryl Livingston, he was in foster care at the time. He was the 7th boy to go missing and then every one of his friends was found dead after that. However, his body was never found. They suspected that he formed a bond with his captor and offered to bring him, other boys, if he let him live.”

“Any chance that this unsub could be the same kid, using Pope’s tactic to get our attention back on him?” Morgan asked.

“I was about to say that too,” JJ cut in. “they might’ve even been a team back then as well. That would explain why the murders stopped when Pope was caught but they still never found that boy.”

“That’s possible. They concluded that the last victim Pope dropped into the river was a long-time, secret boyfriend of his who found out what he was doing to the children. His MO changed when he didn’t want people to tie the murders together,” Spencer provided the extra information. “Only backfiring when local cops patrolling the river heard a splash.”

“Garcia, can you see if any of the Vic’s have any relation, contact or even geographical coincidences with the original murders?” Rossi asked. “If this is a victim continuing Pope’s work we need to find out who knew him.”

“Sir, Oscar Pope is still alive in a local correctional facility,” Garcia added. “I’m going to run background checks on all contact he’s had in his entirety at the prison, it might take a while but I’ll get it.”

“Garcia, I can go to the facility and just read everything they have there. It might not be all digital yet,” Reid offered.

“Good idea, take Y/N with you. You two bounce ideas off each other better than the rest of us,” Hotch agreed. “Morgan and Rossi join the search teams at the rivers. JJ and Prentiss, we’ll set up communication with the locals and go through old case files.”

“Reid’s good at bouncing somethin’ off her, alright,” Morgan teased him. “You were on speaker this morning.”

Spencer turned bright red once again, burying his face into the table as everyone laughed, reaching across the aisle to give Y/N high fives.

—

Being in a prison was always weird for her.

Having to hand in her gun just to read papers in a dusty office made her uncomfortable. She understood the protocol and she knew the guards would keep them safe, but knowing she was near men she helped put away, that scared her slightly.

“I’m not finding anything,” Spencer sighed. “There was a flood 2 years ago that destroyed most of the files near the ground. Including the Pope documents.”

“We can always just go ask him?” Y/N suggested, “he’s in D cell, he’s behind bars. We can just talk to him from the hallway unofficially. Pretend we’re here for someone else. I’ll say I never thought he really did those murders and gain his trust, see what happens.”

“I don’t like it but, I think we have to,” he agreed. Opening the office door for her to lead the way, “after you.”

Spencer felt very protective, she could tell. He was never pushy or controlling with her, but for some reason, he was now manhandling her. Making sure she walked on the inside of the hallways, closer to the brick walls so that no one could get her through the bars.

“So Doctor Reid,” she picked up the conversation as they hit the D block. “I was reading the book you lent me about engineering.”

“Oh,” he tried to play along. “How did you like it?”

“It was good,” she replied while trying to look at each inmate she passed. “I loved page 187— oh my gosh?” She stopped at Pope’s cell.

“You’re Oscar Pope?” She pointed at him.

“and you’re?” The old man questioned her. “A fed?”

“We’re here for something political, nothing to concern yourself with,” she lied, getting closer to the bars, whispering. “I just want you to know I never thought you did all 16 of the child murders back in the day.”

“Thank you,” he was suddenly enthusiastic. “Now why can’t all the fed’s be as smart as you?”

She laughed, tapping his arm through the bars. “How are you doing? Is there anything I can get you while I’m here?”

“Phone privileges!” He answered quickly, “the mail’s taking forever and I’ve got people to talk to before I croak in here.”

“I’m sure you do sir,” she smiled at him. “I’ll pull some strings, you have a good day!”

“You too, beautiful!”

Spencer placed his hand on her hip and led her away from the bars, she waved as they walked away.

“Agent Y/L/N,” a voice stopped her at the end of the hall.

She turned to see a man sitting cross-legged on the cell floor. His orange jumpsuit gathered around his waist as he sat in an undershirt. She glanced over his body, stopping at his face. She’d know those eyes anywhere.

“Didn’t I say only good boys get to talk to me, Bitch?” She snapped at him.

“Congratulations on the little one.” He replied. Laughing as Spencer placed his hand over her small stomach and led her out of the room, through the big metal doors.

“Keep walking with me,” Spencer insisted. “Or I will turn around and I will kill him.”

She huffed and continued down a narrow hallway with him. “We need to call Hotch.”

“Yeah,” he flipped his phone open and hit the speed dial.

“Reid?” She heard Hotch answer.

“We couldn’t get any of his information from forms, they all had water damage so Y/N and I walked past Pope’s cell and struck up a conversation,” He explained.

“And?”

“She got on his good side, pretending that she could get him a favour while she’s here for political reasons. He said he’s desperate to make a phone call today.”

“I’m on my way, get Garcia to prep paperwork to allow us a meeting with him now,” Hotch instructed, hanging up.

Y/N dialled Garcia on her phone. “How’s it going love birds?”

“Not good,” she replied. “We need you to get the paperwork going to allow us to sit down with Oscar Pope today. And we’re going to need to tear through his cell.”

“Oh, damn okay,” She replied. “Ask him about Cody Kollins.”

“Who?” Spencer asked as his phone rang again. He flipped it open, “we’ve got Garcia here too.” Putting it on speaker.

“Morgan and Rossi just intercepted a man dropping a body in the river,” Hotch confirmed. “I need you to rush that paperwork.”

“Sir, what was the man’s name?” Garcia asked.

“Cody Kollins.”

They sighed at each other, “let’s do this.”

—

Y/N watched him through the mirror. She could see him fidgeting. He was frustrated. He was exhibiting the exact same behaviour as he was when he was caught the first time.

“Every time we one-up him, he breaks down,” she whispered to Spencer. “Even in his interrogation tapes, he was like this. When they found the single patch of carpet left in his closet and were able to match the fibres, he lost it. He likes to play it cool and under control, he wrote the story and he wants us to stick to it.”

“How upset do you think he’d be if we went in there and told him we actually caught the original killer and he’s going to be released pending DNA testing?” Spencer suggested.

She tilted her head, biting her lip as she thought. “I think he’d be violent.”

“Sit here,” he said as he walked into the interview room.

She hated having to just watch. It helped that Pope was cuffed to the table, and the table was drilled into the concrete floor, Spencer wouldn’t get hurt. The guards are right behind the door. It’s fine.

“Sorry for the abrupt interrogation, I promise this isn’t what you think,” Spencer smiled softly. “We have reason to believe that the original killer has returned, the state is running the DNA now.”

Y/N watched as Pope’s right eye started to twitch, his finger on his leg was tapping at an odd rhythm as Spencer talked.

“The second we can prove you had no hand in any of the killing’s we’ll issue a pardon and your discharge papers will be filled out,” Spencer finished his sentence and moved to open the door once more.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot,” he hissed. His voice was completely different than it was when they were speaking in D block.

“Why?” Spencer asked, easily playing the innocent and stupid role.

“You think some crazy-obsessed, fuck toy of mine whose doing half-assed attempts at my signature, is the real killer!!!” Pope spat his confession out. Literally covering the table in spit as he became more feral. Shaking violently.

Spencer walked right out of the room. Y/N watched as Pope smacked the table, tugging violently at the cuffs, scratching himself all up. The guards had to run in and hold him down, shooting a sedative into his neck.

“Jesus,” she whispered. Taking her phone out of her pocket to call Garcia, when she noticed the voicemail notification in the bottom corner. She ignored it, calling her friend instead.

“Hey,” Penelope answered quickly. “So turns out we were right, who would have thought, Cody Kollins is actually Daryl Livingston.”

“We just got a confession from Pope,” Y/N shared her news. “They had to sedate him so we’re going to come back to the station. Wait until tomorrow to interview him again.”

“Yeah, sounds good, Hotch and Morgan are in with Livingston right now,” she updated them. “Make sure to eat something when you get there.”

“Yes mom,” she teased, hanging up and smiling.

Spencer put his hand out in an invitation to hold it. She interlocked their fingers and followed him back to the filing room, gathering their things before exiting the prison.

She sat on the passenger side of the SUV, she and Spencer just sat there and took a few deep breaths. Processing everything the exact same way, quietly and on their own.

She cut the awkward silencer by taking out her phone and playing the voicemail. Putting it on speaker.

“Hi Y/N, this is Doctor Korrapati calling. I’ve emailed you your results. The gender is at the bottom, under the little read more button, in case you wanted it to be a surprise. Call the office and let us know when you’re free to go over the results and we’ll book you in, as far as I can tell everything looks good, so don’t feel the need to rush. Take care!”

Spencer looked over at her with a soft smile on his face, reaching out for her hand once more. Holding her hand with both of his now, “do you want to do this?”

“I’m ready if you are?”

He nodded, watching her contently as she opened her email up, finding the right one and scrolling to the bottom. Her heart fluttered a little as she looked at the read more option.

She took a deep breath and clicked on it.

Chromosomal sex: XY

“Well?” Spencer asked softly.

“I’d really love to tell you,” she bit her lip trying not to laugh, “but I don’t remember what this means?”

He laughed, shaking his head as he looked at the screen. He blinked with glossy eyes as he read it, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he cried softly.

It had to be a girl, she knew he wanted one. She convinced herself in that millisecond that it was a girl.

He reached over and placed his hand flat against her belly. “Hi Matthew,” he said softly.

“You’re kidding?” She couldn’t stop herself from crying.

Spencer wrapped her up in a hug, the two of them happily crying into each other. She wasn’t sure if she was giggling or sobbing, she just knew she was shaking in Spencer’s arms with happiness that this was her little family.

He kissed all over her one cheek as he held her close. “I love you so much,” he reminded her.

She pulled back, wiping her tears off on her shirt sleeve, laughing at the serendipity of it all. “I love you too, dad.”

“I have to drive, don’t make me cry again,” he laughed, wiping his own tears before tucking his ever-growing hair behind his ears.

“Let’s go.”

—

Y/N sat beside JJ in the break room of the police station, salad bowl in her lap, shovelling the dressing-covered leaves in her mouth.

They weren’t tasked with anything until Hotch and Morgan attempted to get some info out of the unsub. “Were you crying earlier?” She asked.

“A little,” Y/N smiled at her. “We’re having a boy,” she whispered.

“Oh my god!” JJ whispered back at her, reaching out for her arm and shaking her a little. “I have a feeling your little guy will be bigger than Henry was so he’ll fit into all Henry’s summer stuff when he’s born!”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah!” She confirmed. “By the time he grows out of everything I might have a second boy and we can rotate it around again,” she laughed. “This is going to be so fun.”

“Matthew and Henry are going to be best friends,” Y/N smiled.

“Matthew,” she repeated. “That’s a nice name, I like it.”

“My brother’s name is Levi, I thought it was a nice way to keep a family name in my baby’s life, and his middle name is going to be Gideon,” she spoiled it for Spencer.

JJ looked a little emotional, “sorry it’s just so surreal thinking about me and Spencer having kids who are friends.”

Y/N moved her dinner out of the way and hugged her then, holding her tightly. “You better not be pregnant too,” she whispered in her ear. Not wanting to give it away if she was.

JJ just laughed, rocking Y/N back and forth in her embrace, not answering. “Right?” Y/N asked again.

“We’re trying, so who knows,” JJ replied.

“Shut up?” Y/N pulled back and stared into her eyes to see if she was telling the truth or not. “Holy shit? Since when?”

“Honestly, I think the night we celebrated Canadian thanksgiving,” she laughed. “You and Spencer got us talking about babies, and you got Henry to sleep through the night, so this is technically your fault.”

“JJ,” Y/N started to cry, “I’m so happy for you.”

“They’ll only be a few months apart, so they’ll be best friends too,” JJ smiled. “This is going to be really fun.”

chapter 18

For Christmas this year, Y/N just wanted to be fully moved into their new home before they had to leave for Vegas. Spencer followed through with the present. Inviting the entire team over for drinks if they promised to stop by Y/N’s apartment and bring a few boxes to the new house. It was basically just free labour.

She spent the night nesting while her friends drank in her kitchen. They understood why she was nervous, she was going to tell her parents about the baby and the engagement, and the house, in 3 days.

It was all going to be a lot.

She was 16 weeks along as of Christmas Eve. Waking up the morning of their flight to a weird twitching sensation in her gut, like butterflies or a muscle twitch but right where the baby would be.

“Spence,” she shook him awake. “Spencer.”

“What’s wrong?” He sat right up, squinting at her as he tried to figure out what was going on.

“It’s like, I don’t know how to explain it?” She worried.

Spencer placed his hand on her belly feeling the slight flitter. “He’s kicking.”

Spencer’s early morning smile was the best, he tackled her back against the pillow and dug his face into the crook of her neck. “That’s my baby in there.”

“I wouldn’t have known,” she laughed, wrapping her arms and legs around him. “We have to go to the airport soon.”

“I know,” he mumbled into her neck.

“If you get up now, we can go get breakfast before we have to board?” She enticed him, “we can get sprinkle donuts for the flight.”

“Okay,” he said as she freed him from her grip. “Are you nervous?”

“I know they’ll be happy, just not ready for them to ask why I didn’t say anything sooner,” She explained. “I’ve been really distant since I got the job, I’m really excited to spend time with them this weekend.”

“Same,” Spencer smiled. “Come on you two.”

They took a 9 am flight one-way to Las Vegas. Y/N slept most of the ride, spending the last 45 minutes just snuggled into Spencer’s shoulder as he watched a documentary on some form of science or math. She couldn’t hear what it was about, all she saw was a man writing out numbers on a chalkboard.

She ran her hand over her belly lightly. There was no way she could walk into her mother’s house in a few minutes and just pretend it wasn’t there. It was there. So were the 5 pounds of baby weight on her hips and the swelling in her face and knuckles.

She was pretty quiet during landing and baggage claim. Thinking in her head what she was going to say to everyone, how she would explain it. She sat in a cab beside Spencer, absentmindedly following him through the airport they’ve both been through at least 20 times.

It was a short trip to her parent’s house. Spencer traced little shapes into her leg with his finger to distract her. A flower, a 4D cube, the words I love you. It was sweet, non verbal comfort was very important to her.

When they arrived, she stayed in the cab to pay while Spencer got their bags out. Taking as long as possible so she could avoid it a little longer.

Biting the bullet, she took a deep breath and walked out into her parent’s front yard. Taking the handle of her suitcase and dragging it up the walkway.

She walked right into her house, her parents and brothers all standing up from the living room and rushing into the entryway. She was wrapped up in 7 hugs within a matter of seconds.

“You look so different,” her mom said as she pulled back from her hug. Holding her arms as she examined her, “what did you do?”

“I got pregnant,” she replied, scrunching her face as she waited for their response.

She could’ve sworn she went deaf at that moment, reaching down to cover her bump as everyone cheered and jumped around her. She was pulled into a group hug before she could process anything. Laughing awkwardly at the whole experience.

“Be quiet, he can hear this week!” She laughed.

“He?” Her father inquired.

She looked back at Spencer, smiling at him. “It’s a boy,” Spencer confirmed.

“Holy shit!” Her brothers cheered, high-fiving each other. “When are you due?” Harrison asked.

“June,” she smiled. “3 days after mom’s birthday, see I do remember it.”

“Come sit,” her mom insisted, pushing everyone out of the way and dragging her to the couch. “Put your feet up, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N insisted. “You’re almost worse than my co-workers.”

“Are they taking good care of you?” Her father asked.

She waited for Spencer to join her on the couch, they had all been so excited about her they forgot he was there. “Yeah. Um, we have a lot to tell you,” She explained, holding Spencer’s hand for comfort.

“I asked Y/N to marry me,” Spencer announced. “I am so in love with her, this baby is a dream come true and I’m very excited to become a part of your family.”

Her mom cried, tossing her hand over her eyes as she sobbed. “Mom,” she was so overwhelmed with everything she started to cry too.

“You’re a wonderful man Spencer,” her father interjected. “It’s an honour to have you.”

Spencer smiled and nodded towards him, silently thanking him for the approval.

“So, it’s kind of insane how it all happened. It wasn’t intended, but we love him so much already,” Y/N glowed as she spoke. “Are we going to tell people the name yet?”

Spencer nodded, “we can.” He smiled down at her with such wonderment, the moment she had been scared of for 16 weeks turning out to be the best time she’s had with her whole family in one room.

“His name is Matthew Gideon Reid,” Y/N smiled. “After my favourite brother, no offence Harry, and Spencer’s mentor.”

Levi was her more emotional brother. He was her best friend growing up. The 5 year age difference gave them the time to grow up separately but still find common interests to bring them together. They were the closest in the family before she moved to Virginia full time it became hard to keep up with him as much.

Now they were both parents, their kids only having a 3 year age difference. Meaning next year there would be 2 little ones at Christmas.

“That’s a lovely name,” Levi smiled. “Thank you.”

“It’s whatever, don’t expect our kids to have your name either,” Harrison replied as he held his wife close, pretending he was a little offended.

“We also got a house,” she added to change the topic, “Jason Gideon, he kinda gave us his place in Virginia.”

“You’re kidding me?” Debbie gasped. “For free?”

She laughed, “it’s complicated.”

“I grew up without a father, and Gideon neglected his son for his work at the BAU,” Spencer chimed in. “We bonded, and he wanted his house to be used for good. He specifically asked for us to fill it with love and laughter. We’ve just finished moving into it. You can visit any time!” He panicked and rambled by the end.

“I don’t know if you know this,” her mom tried to joke with them. “But there’s this thing called a phone, where you can call your mother and tell her these things.”

“I wanted to!” she hurried the words out. “But I’m still working in the field, I was weary with who really knew besides the team. It’s my only weakness on the job.”

“I get it,” Debbie smiled. “Honestly, I’m so happy for you both.”

“Thanks, mom,” Y/N choked back tears. “Sorry,” she laughed. “Pregnant things, y’know.”

—

Visiting hours at the nursing home changed during the holidays. Spencer and Y/N were permitted to enter anytime between 8 am and 10 pm, giving them lots of time to spend the afternoon with Y/N’s parents before visiting her.

They borrowed her dad’s truck, driving to the nursing home with a special gift for Diana. Spencer had spent the last 2 weeks making a scrapbook page about Matthew for her, he knew how much her book meant to her and he wanted to add to it.

Her mom’s co-workers all stared at them as they walked in hand in hand. Her bump on show under the T-Shirt she chose to wear.

Diana was in her room, then walked down the long hallway to her suite. Knocking lightly on the door, waiting for her to greet them.

The door swung open, “Spencer!” She cheered. Hugging him tight in her arms.

“Hi mom,” he held her just as tight. Knowing he was a mama’s boy always made Y/N’s heart flutter.

She pulled back and looked at Y/N, “you look so nice!”

“Thank you,” she smiled. Stepping in close to give her a hug as well.

Diana welcomed them into her room, closing the door behind them. Y/N took a seat on the couch while Spencer looked around at the new things she had on display.

“I made you something,” he said softly, taking off his bag and pulling the pressed cardboard out of the protective sleeve. “here.”

She held it in her hands, looking at the ultrasound photo they got a few weeks ago at the anatomy scan. “What is this Spencer?”

“You’re going to be a grandmother,” he explained. Watching her run her fingers over the words on the paper. She was in shock, she had nothing to say. She just looked at the photo.

She quietly walked over to Y/N and sat beside her, “may I?” She asked, holding her hand up.

Y/N leaned back a little, “absolutely.”

Diana placed her hand on the bump lightly. “I was so worried I wouldn’t get to really experience this one day,” she whispered. Trying her best not to cry. “Thank you.”

Y/N cried, not realizing how special this must be for them. She was so focused on her family that she forgot that this was going to change Diana’s whole world. She now had 2 boys to love unconditionally.

“His name is Matthew?” Diana asked, running her hand over the bump softly.

“Yeah,” Y/N smiled. “He’s due in June. If you can, you can fly out and stay with us for a little?”

“I’d love to,” Diana replied. “I have enough points for a trip, and I’ve been feeling really good on my medication.”

“If your doctors clear it all, Debbie and you can fly in together,” Spencer confirmed.

“Wow,” Diana smiled like Spencer. Wide thin lips, straight white teeth, big rosy cheeks and glistening eyes. She hoped Matthew inherited it too. “This is my best Christmas yet.”

—

Y/N woke up Christmas morning with Spencer cuddled into her side in her childhood bedroom. She slipped out of his grasp and sat in her windowsill instead.

She pulled her knees to her chest as best as she could now that she was pregnant, looking at the lone swing across the street that swayed in the December morning breeze.

It should be 8 am back at Quantico, her parents must have let them sleep in while they opened presents. She could see Chloe in the front yard trying out her new car. Levi smiled as he pushed her down the road, Lizzie filming the whole thing on her phone.

Her whole life was so different from the last time she really sat on the windowsill in her bedroom. Back then she was about to move to Virginia, graduating college in Nevada and getting into the training program at the academy. Harrison was already there at Fort Meade, she was about to move into his house with his wife for the first semester before settling into DC. Levi and Lizzie had just started dating, Chloe wasn’t even conceived yet. And she had no idea when she’d run into Spencer.

She rubbed her hand over her belly as a tear rolled down her cheek. She couldn’t wait for the day that she was pushing her own child on that swing across the street. The day she and Spencer tell him about the love story that bubbled between two kids with books who looked at each other for years before they fell in love.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, removing her from the moment she allowed herself to have.

She wiped the tear from her cheek, “they’re happy tears. Go back to sleep.”

“Come cuddle?” He pouted, his big puppy dog eyes drawing her back to the bed.

She snuggled into him, running her fingers against his bare chest as she watched him breathe. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always,” he kissed the top of her head.

“When I was 17, I had my appendix out.” She rolled over and laid back, showing him the 3-inch scar on the right side of her stomach. “It was pretty bad, they said I would have died if my mom waited 15 more minutes to get me to the hospital. They had to fix parts of my stomach and intestines that were eaten by the ruptured appendix bile.”

“I had no idea,” he whispered, running his finger along the scar. “I always thought that was just a scratch.”

She shook her head lightly. “It was December 5th, ’98. They uh,” she took a deep breath before resuming. “They put me on a drug called Dilaudid, they told my mom it was a non-addictive version of morphine and that I’d be fine but, I kinda got addicted to the pill version when they let me out,” she scrunched her face as she told him. Not wanting his opinion of her to change.

“You’re kidding?” He asked, a chuckle fell past his lips as he sat up. “In my second year at the BAU I was kidnapped by a man with dissociative identity disorder and he drugged me.”

“Dilaudid?” She asked, sitting up too and shaking her head in disbelief.

He laughed at how absurd it was, “yeah.”

“I moved to Benadryl for the sleepy and calm effect after I couldn’t get any more refills and didn’t want to admit I had a problem, and weed in college” she added. “but I haven’t even taken a Tylenol in the last 5 years now.”

“I had a small problem with it after everything, but I’m also clean now,” Spencer smiled at her. “Why did you want me to know?”

“Because I don’t want to take any drugs when I deliver the baby, even if I beg for them I don’t want them to give in. I talked to Dr. Korrapati about it but I wanted you to know too,” she explained. “Being in here all night got me thinking about a lot.”

He wrapped his arms around her and tackled her back against the pillows. “I love you,” was all he said.

“I love you too?”

“Seriously,” his voice was so soft and low. “I’ll never stop.”

chapter 19

She woke up to the feeling of hair tickling her face. She swatted at her face to try and get it to stop before opening her eyes. She blinked into the early morning sunlight, only to Spencer looking down at her, his hair long enough to tickle her skin.

“You were snoring,” he whispers down to her. “Also, Happy Birthday.”

She smiled, pulling him down and into a hug. “Thank you.”

Every morning with Spencer for the last 10 months had been special. Something about the warmth of his body against hers, and the sunlight bouncing around their new bedroom made this morning her favourite.

It was so calm on the water. She could see the snow settling on the ice as the sun made it glisten like diamonds. The birds had all but disappeared for the winter, the stillness in the world was lovely. It was like time stopped with Spencer laying in her arms.

“What do you think Penelope has planned at work today?” She asked him softly, playing with his incredibly long hair. It was almost longer than hers now.

“She told me to bring you in after 8.”

“So does that mean you have to distract me for a little while, Doctor Reid?” She teased him.

He pushed himself up, leaning on his arm as he hovered over her. “Any requests?”

She spread her arms and legs out like a starfish. “Have at ‘er,” she couldn’t stop herself from laughing as Spencer just shook his head.

He dipped down to her belly, blowing a raspberry onto her protruding bump. “Good morning to you too little dude,” he whispered against her skin. “Go back to sleep.”

She shoved him lightly, not able to stop herself from smiling, “he is asleep, leave him alone.”

It was the best morning ever.

Every time she thinks that she’s reached peak happiness she discovers another level. It felt like every time he touched her, she wanted to describe it as the best she’s ever felt.

When they finally got dressed and made their way downstairs for the morning, she found it incredibly odd that he wasn’t asking her what she wanted for breakfast, like he did every morning. Very concerned that she had all her meals and then some.

She fed the cat, picking him up and giving him a little snuggle after he finished his breakfast. “You are getting so big and chunky buddy, I might have to change your food timer.”

He meowed at her, sounding really pissed, making her laugh. “Fine but when you can't climb all the stairs in this house it’s your fault.” She placed him back on the ground and watched him wander into the sunlight. Plopping onto the hardwood and stretching out. Just living the life.

“Ready to go?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah, are we stopping for breakfast?” She asked, the second trimester making her hungrier than ever before.

“Penelope has it covered,” He said, placing his hand on her back as he leads her to the foyer.

“Oh this’ll be good,” she smiled, putting her shoes on before arming the alarm and heading outside.

Spencer locked their beautiful green front door, it was colder out than they had expected. He held her hand as she shivered slightly, they walked down the 3 steps together, Spencer not wanting her to fall if it happened to be icy.

Seat heaters were a blessing from god. The car was freezing when they first got in, the heater barely kicked in by the time they reached Quantico. Living 10 minutes away now was really nice.

Up the elevator they went, she was basically bouncing with excitement. “See?” Spencer nudged her with his shoulder. “Bunny.”

“Shut up,” she smiled as the door dinged before opening.

They walked into the bullpen to find it empty. She took off her coat and placed her bag on her desk before slowly walking up the small set of stairs and heading towards the briefing room.

All her co-workers were sitting around the table waiting for her and the boy wonder to arrive. Strawberry cheesecake danishes sat on a tray on the table, a strawberry milkshake in front of Y/N‘s regular spot.

“Happy Birthday!” They cheered as she walked in.

“You guys!?” She was so flattered. Never in her life has she been thrown a party by someone who wasn’t her mother. “Thank you.”

“Sit, sit,” Penelope insisted. Placing a danish on a napkin and putting it on her spot on the table. “I know you can’t have ice coffee right now, I thought a milkshake was the next best thing.”

“I seriously love you, come here,” she pulled Penelope into a hug, kissing her right on the mouth as everyone cheered.

“See that?” Penelope blushed. “Kisses are how I should be thanked around here.”

“HR already hates us,” Hotch made everyone laugh, “don’t push it.”

They all ate breakfast together, sharing stories from their weekend. They decided to spend New Years’ apart, everyone taking time to themselves for the first time ever.

“Where did you go, Prentiss?” Morgan inquired.

“Sin to Win weekend in Atlantic City,” she sighed and leaned back in her chair.

“Oh my god?” Y/N looked at her with absolute astonishment.

“What’s that?” Morgan and Spencer asked at the same time.

“Nothing.” Emily and Y/N replied in unison. Making a look at each other that screamed: ‘tell anyone and I’ll hurt you.’

Like a saviour, the fax machine in the briefing room turned on, spitting out 15 sheets of paper in a few minutes. Penelope cleaned off the table while Hotch ran everything over.

“Last night a family in Boston had their home burned down with them inside it,” Hotch explained.

“How is that something for us to look into?” Rossi asked.

“Because the unsub broke in and turned the water off and tampered with the gas system, causing CO2 to render them unconscious. He stabbed the father to death in the bed before laying gasoline all over the floors and lighting the house on fire.”

“Damn,” Y/N whispered under her breath. “That is personal.”

“I’d say,” Hotch agreed.

“Who was the family?” JJ asked.

Garcia looked through the sheets of paper spewed across the table. “Thomas Greenway, 61. His wife Alison 43. And 2 children aged 8 and 12.”

“We need to head to Boston,” Hotch announced. “I’ll call about prepping the plane. Y/N you can stay here with Garcia if you’d like, your insight will aid her search greatly.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind,” she smiled at Garcia. “Good luck out there.”

“Wheels up in 30.”

Everyone sighed before standing up. Spencer leaned in and kissed Y/N softly before standing up. “I’ll see you later.”

“Come home to me safely Doctor Reid.”

He smiled down at her, fixing his shirt before he left with Morgan.

“I hate to see him go, but I love watching him leave,” She said softly towards Penelope, making her laugh in the process.

“Come on mama, let’s go to my office,” Garcia said, putting her arm out for Y/N, the two of them skipping down the hallway with their arms linked as the team filled the elevator.

Y/N sat in Garcia’s office and immediately put her feet up, still drinking her milkshake as she flipped through the case files. “Can I suggest possibly the dumbest thing ever?”

She laughed, “shoot.”

“So, homeboy here breaks in and knocks out a family with co2 poisoning, just to stab the father to death and light the house on fire.” She ran it down once more, “What if we just search mothers stabbed before dying in a fire and just see if this is some traumatized kid, at this point that’s what they all end up being.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Garcia said, typing away as she added the parameters. “It’s like you can see the fucking future?”

Y/N threw her head back in a laugh, “did you get something? Seriously?”

“Adele Hollis was found dead in a burning apartment building in Boston in 1978. ME reports say she was already dead from co2 poisoning before she was stabbed 6 times in the chest. The whole apartment complex went up in flames after the unsub doused the bed in gasoline and lit her up.”

“Well fuck,” Y/N replied. “Does she have children?”

“Yes, her son Cameron was at school when it happened. He was 8, he moved in with his step-dad shortly after, they ruled him out and never found the guy,” Garcia added.

Y/N leaned across the desk and dialled Hotch, the plane hadn’t even left yet. “I think I found the unsub?”

“How?” Hotch asked.

“I jokingly asked Garcia to search and see if there are any men whose mothers died in a fire after being stabbed cause we deal with sooo many traumatized kids, and we found one,” she laughed at just how insane it sounded.

“Video in and give us a rundown.” Hotch hung up. Ever the conversationalist.

Garcia and Y/N squeezed into the same frame seeing everyone gathered in the little plane seats. She gave them the basic rundown of her findings, watching them all shake their heads at the fact she solved the case already.

“Have the local PD issue a warrant and bring him in. Can you check and see if he knows the victims?” Hotch asked.

“On it sir,” she smiled, clicking away.

“How did you do that so fast?” Morgan has to ask, “it’s not human.”

She laughed again, “If I’ve learned anything in the last 10 months it’s that traumatized little boys can fuck up a lot of people’s lives.”

“Preach,” Rossi added.

“Um, guys,” Garcia’s tone changed. “Cameron Hollis’s birth father is the father who was stabbed in this case.”

“You’re shitting me?” Y/N couldn’t believe it. “Do they have any kind of relationship?”

“His father is on the birth certificate but it looks like Adele left him when Cameron was 3, after some domestic disputes that had the cops at their door. She was remarried when he was 6, it doesn’t look like they ever really talked,” Garcia explained while continuing to dig.

Y/N watched through the monitor as the team gripped their seats, the plane was taking off now. They would be in Boston with this guy in just a few hours.

“Thanks, Lady Wonder,” Morgan winked at the camera for Y/N before leaning in and turning the monitor off.

She sat back and put her feet up once more. “Best birthday ever.”

—

They had Cameron Hollis in custody with a full confession before 5 pm that day. Everyone was beyond thankful that they would be back home with their families shortly.

Y/N had said goodbye to Penelope shortly after, driving home to have some alone time. Rossi would drive Spencer home, they lived close enough now that they could all carpool if they wanted.

She had never been in their new house all alone before. She took the time to just walk around and admire everything, being thankful that her life ended up like this. Not taking a second of it for granted.

She sat down on her bed finally, taking her phone out and calling JJ.

“Hello bestie,” she answered.

Y/N smiled, “Hey, do you think Will could find a babysitter tonight?”

“Probably, why?”

“Tell him to drop Henry off and head to my place. I’m going to have pizza delivered and you can come here with Spencer when you land,” Y/N offered. “Have a date night with us.”

“That would be amazing, I’ll call Will right now. See you later,” JJ sounded happy. It made her smile.

“See you.” She hung up, laying back against her bed softly.

She changed quickly before heading downstairs, wearing a pair of leggings and an academy t-shirt. She was getting too big for almost everything she owned now.

She placed an order for a few pizzas to arrive at 8:30. Next, making sure she had more beer in the fridge, for the nights when Will wandered over with JJ. They had visited almost every weekend since she and Spencer moved in.

That’s when she saw him.

chapter 20

Previously...

The dream was always the same:

A man would get into their home, he knew their schedule, he knew when she’d be alone.

He’d get in without any trouble and he never made a sound. She wouldn’t even know he was in the room until she felt the cold metal gun press against her face, as shaking hands instructed her to tie her own behind her back.

He’d always use her supplies. Duck tape, shoelaces, scarves. Anything at his disposal that he didn’t have to bring with him. Almost as if he didn’t fully choose her to be his victim until the very last minute.

He assaulted her all for what felt like hours, stopping occasionally to cry in the bathroom or eat a snack in their kitchen. And he always showered at the end. Sometimes, he’d wrap her up in a housecoat, put her sheets in the wash and sincerely advised her to invest in a better lock for the sliding door.

Then he was gone.

Slipping into the night, on his way to become someone else’s nightmare...

There was a man in her yard, he was dressed in all black, with a backpack wrapped around his shoulders and a ski mask on his face.

He couldn’t see her from where she was in the kitchen, but she could see him. She ducked to the floor and crawled towards the stairs, booking it up the steps and grabbing her gun. She made sure it was loaded, grabbing a second clip from her nightstand and tucking it into her pocket. Then she detonated the alarm system from the remote on Spencer’s bedside table.

She crawled into her closet, making herself look like a pile of clothes.

And she waited.

She felt a little insane, she tried to convince herself that it could be anyone from a neighbour to a lost person from the trail. For all she knew, it was someone from the academy lost in the woods.

She tried to calm her breathing, calling Will with her cell phone. “Hey, JJ just filled me in-“

“There is someone in my backyard in all black with a backpack, how fast can you get here?” She panicked in a whisper.

“Fuck, okay, I just dropped Henry off at the sitter. I’ll be right over, stay put and I will call you when I’m there,” his southern accent came out more when he was stressed.

“Okay, thank you,” she hung up and took a deep breath.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sounds in her house.

She remembered what the house sounded like that morning. The stillness, the quiet peacefulness of her and Spencer in the bed only 12 feet away from where she was now hiding.

She remembered the way the floors creaked as it popped and settled with the heat, how the tree outside would sometimes tap the window, the sound of snow tumbling off their roof. Passing cars on the main road kicking up gravel, the odd bird singing in the cold breeze, her own heartbeat in her ears.

Then she heard the alarm turn off with its overly happy welcome home chime. Only knowing one man would be able to disarm her alarm system without a code, and he was in the air right now.

“Open,” she heard the alarm’s voice as the door opened.

Footsteps travelled along the hardwood floor in wet shoes. She listened to the sound of the wet rubber on hardwood explore the first floor.

There were 2 people in her house, splitting up as one went to the kitchen and one went up the stairs.

She aimed her gun at the doorway, aiming to shoot anyone who walked through the door in the leg. Not wanting to kill anyone who she knew that might’ve gotten in for a different reason, unannounced.

In the rare happenstance that this wasn’t her worst nightmare coming true.

Her hands were shaking as she kept the gun pointed for what felt like hours, just waiting for him to find her. The door handle started to turn slowly, she heard the sound of the old metal grinding ever so slowly.

The first thing she saw were his eyes, yet again. The same eyes that haunted her dreams, the eyes every woman she spoke to for 2 years remembered from behind the ski mask.

Fuck Wichita, he was her own personal nightmare. He had been for a while. Those eyes, big and black all the way around, not a single glimpse of colour or life or hope. Every single dream came flooding back as she saw him in her doorway, the same aura of death, destruction, loneliness and despair from all those months ago was now filling the most special place in her home.

He still hadn’t seen her in the closet, looking around the room carefully as she watched him. Waiting for him to get closer, and closer to where she was. Finally peeling back the wooden closet door.

“Surprise, bitch,” She said before aiming higher and shooting him between the eyes, knocking him down.

She stood and stepped out of the closet, “Travis fucking Johnson,” she shook her head as she looked at the man bleeding on her bedroom floor. Taking his pulse to ensure that he was dead.

She couldn’t hear anything for a second, trying her best to zone in on the sound of someone tiptoeing in her kitchen, “WHO ELSE IS IN MY HOUSE?” She screamed.

Suddenly she could hear the sound of a car on the gravel and then a door slamming. She stepped into the hallway, gun pointed, looking over the railing towards the front door.

“Y/N?!” Will yelled. Gun pointed as he entered her house.

“I’ve got one down, I think there’s another in the kitchen,” she replied.

“On it.”

Y/N looked down the hall, none of the upstairs rooms were open, every door exactly how it looked when she ran up the stairs. She headed down the steps when 2 shots were fired.

She quickly ran to the kitchen to see another man on her floor behind the counter, his feet the only thing she could see as he laid there, dead. Will was standing over him, taking his pulse.

“He’s gone,” Will confirmed.

Y/N finally let herself panic, shaking as she tried to catch her breath, pulling out a chair from the counter and sitting down. Her adrenalin was running wild in her bloodstream, she didn’t even know how to speak let alone think about what had just happened.

“Y/N,” Will’s soft voice brought her back to reality. He was right beside her, wrapping his big strong arms around her to try and calm her down. “Shh, it’s okay.”

“Who was it?” Is all she asks him.

“I have no idea, who was upstairs?” Will asked.

“Travis Johnson, from my first case with the BAU,” she calmed down a bit, breaking away from the hug to get off the chair.

She walked around the counter island, looking down to find another man she knew, bleeding on her brand new hardwood floors. “Oh my god,” she felt sick at the sight.

He smelled the same, stale and rotten. The same look on his face even as he slipped into eternal damnation. Empty as when he was alive, pure evil down to his core. Dead to match how he felt inside as he did those awful things to undeserving mothers.

The second worst man she’s ever come in contact with.

The Winnemucca Womb Raider.

She backed up into Will, he held her close so she didn’t drop to the floor, helping her back into the chair. “Do you know him?”

“Yeah,” she felt herself starting to cry. “How? They were both in prison?”

“We need to call the police,” Will said softly before taking his phone out.

“911 what’s your emergency?” She could hear the muffled woman’s voice as he pressed his phone to his ear.

“This is Detective William LaMontagne Jr. Two men just broke into my friend’s home and tried to kill her,” he explained the situation, making her shutter.

She watched as he talked to the woman, suddenly not able to hear anything as her body slipped into shock. She was completely numb. In the last 10 months she hadn’t fired a single shot on the job, and yet on her birthday, the one time she's alone, she has to kill someone in her own home.

The place where she was supposed to feel safe and happy. Where her new life with Spencer and Matthew was supposed to start. They promised Gideon love and laughter, having that dream stripped from them when Pure Evil stepped over the threshold.

It was just like the dream, the last one she had before Spencer wrapped himself around her, calming her down.

This time he wasn’t here, he didn’t even know that this had happened, he wasn’t always going to be there to save her. She pulled herself back into the moment, calming herself like she had all those years before him.

She wasn’t a damsel in distress, he knew that.

A man walked into her home, the one time he knew she’d be alone and vulnerable.

That was the only part of the dream that matched.

Unlike her dream, she wasn’t a victim. Not in this house. Not in her space. Not ever.

The sound of the sirens echoed in her ears finally, she turned to the commotion of officers running into her new house. Will walked them through it all, telling them who Y/N was and that this was her home. How she saw a man in her yard and hid before killing him upstairs.

“Ma’am?” A stranger in a uniform tried to get her attention. “Ma’am, can you come with me?”

She nodded, standing up and finding support in the man’s arms. He wrapped her up in a silver blanket before he led her outside and into an ambulance. She had her vitals taken and an oxygen mask placed on her to help her calm down.

“Is the baby okay?” She asked the EMT, pulling the mask off her face so he’d hear her.

“Yes,” he smiled. “Strong heartbeat, no signs of distress but you need to relax so we can keep it that way.”

Will climbed into the ambulance then, taking her hand in his, “hey doll, are you okay?”

She nodded, “just a little shook up.”

“I called Spencer,” he said softly. “They’re 30 minutes from landing, then him and the team are on their way. No one told the team about the prison break in Oklahoma, they didn’t even think to connect them back to you.”

She sighed, “two cases in 2 different states, where the offenders ended up going to a 3rd state to meet and do time together and bond over the women who put them away. Makes sense.”

“You put them both away?” He asked.

She nodded again. “I basically made it my life goal to get Travis Johnson, he’s the reason I have this job, he’s the reason I’m pregnant right now,” her words trailed off into whispers. “I saw him in November, he congratulated me when he saw the bump.”

“Who was the other guy?”

“The Winnemucca womb raider, he would kill pregnant women by strangling them before removing their wombs,” she looked at him, horrified. “They wanted to kill us...”

She wrapped her arms around her own stomach, she had almost forgotten to worry about him. To even think that she was more than just one person at the moment.

They weren’t after her, they were after the most important thing to her. Her son, her baby boy. Like all the mothers before her, like their own. They wanted her to suffer, for her son to be spared a future worse than death in their opinion.

All the images from the cases came flying back as she blinked faster and faster. Strangled women, removed wombs, thanking God for a second that Spencer was the one to see the recovered organs in his trailer. A sick feeling bubbled in her body, a chill ran deep in her bones.

Then everything went black.

—

The first thing she remembers when she gained consciousness again was that Spencer was furious. She could see him and Hotch in a heated conversation from inside the ambulance, she tried her best to wake up and zone in on what was going on.

It was too dark for her to read their lips, but he was angry.

JJ was sitting beside her now, holding her hand. “Hey, bestie.”

“Did the cat get out?” She doesn’t know why that’s the first thing she asks, “the door was left open, did he get out?” Still in shock, still trying to understand everything.

JJ shushed her, petting her hair as she leaned in close, hugging her softly. “He was in the laundry room, Will said he made sure to find him when you were getting checked out.”

“Good,” she nodded along as she listened. “I’m so overwhelmed.”

JJ let out an awkward laugh, “I can imagine.”

“I’m also starting to fall in love with your husband,” she found her sense of humour then. “He has perfect timing.”

JJ laughed a little harder, causing Spencer’s focus to shift to the ambulance. Y/N watched him run towards it and jump in.

“Y/N, oh my god,” Spencer wrapped his arms around her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “I’m safe, the baby’s healthy,” she assured him.

He kissed her all over her face, making her giggle when he wouldn’t stop, repeating kisses all over her face, her ears and her neck. She could hear JJ also laughing as she watched with Hotch just outside.

He finally stopped to catch his breath, hugging her again with his face in her neck. “I love you,” she reminded him.

“You love me?” He pulled back, “I love you so fucking much, I am never leaving you alone again.”

“Spencer,” she laughed, “I think I handled it pretty well.”

He huffed and shook his head, “you shouldn’t have had to handle this in the first fucking place! It’s not that fucking hard for someone to call the god damn FBI and say hey two psychopaths that your genius new girl put behind bars, fucking escaped!”

She finally knew what Hotch meant when he said Spencer’s anger scared him. She looked at him like he was a whole different person, “Spence, baby, I know. It’s okay, I’m fine see?”

She placed her hands on his cheeks as she looked into his beautiful hazel eyes, watching his pupils change size as he focused on her. Love and life behind them, true happiness clouded by horror at the thought of losing the love of his life.

He was what a true man was supposed to be, a real genuine person with love and kindness, and empathy. Her soulmate, her Spencer.

“We can’t control everything, that’s what you told me. We handle what’s in front of us, and we do it well,” she smiled as she reminded him.

Spencer started to cry, pulling her in close. “I can’t lose you.”

She cried at the sound of his voice, his heart shattering as he cried in her arms, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Terrified on a level she’s never seen in him before.

She rubbed his back as she held him, rocking him lightly as she shushed him absentmindedly. Soothing him as if her life depended on it, it broke her heart to see him this broken about the idea of losing her. She loved him so much it made her heart physically ache in her chest as she held him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised, whispering against his hair. “I’ll kill a million men if it means coming home to you.”

He laughed in the middle of his cries, she could feel him smile softly as he sniffled against her shirt. “Promise?” He asked as he pulled back to look at her.

She wiped the tears from his cheeks, his beautiful eyelashes clumped together in the wetness. He was so sweet, she couldn’t help kissing him quickly, “promise.”

—

Hotch insisted they head to the BAU with the rest of the team while he handled the crime scene and the forensic clean-up, knowing on a personal level what it was like to clean Evil’s blood out of your bedroom carpet.

Y/N was sitting in the car waiting to leave when she saw Will coming out of her house with 3 pizzas. “I forgot I ordered those,” she gasped at the sight.

“You should’ve seen the look on the delivery guy’s face,” JJ laughed.

It was really bizarre having a pizza party in Rossi’s office after shooting someone in her home. Everyone was trying to be as chipper as possible to try and take the tension off the situation, but Y/N was pretty quiet.

Morgan got everyone to settle down before closing the office door, sitting close to her and Spencer. “Everyone in this room has either been shot, in danger, held hostage or worse,” he offered her some support.

“If you want to share anything, express any feeling or just tell us to fuck off, you can,” his words were soft, she watched him with soft eyes as he spoke.

“The only thing I can think of is that fate is fucked up,” she replied, the honesty slipping off her tongue like it was made of butter.

“You have the floor,” he insisted that she continue.

“I moved into a tiny apartment, farther away from my job, because I needed somewhere to live, and I found Spencer in the hallway. Spencer led me to you, and you guys helped me find Travis Johnson, my personal nightmare case of 2 years,” she explained like they never knew that. “But it’s so much more than that now.”

“We ran into Travis at the prison in Oklahoma a few months ago,” Spencer added. “He noticed that she was pregnant and congratulated her.”

“But the thing that’s fucking me up the most is that, and sorry TMI,” she warned them before continuing. “but we conceived the baby in Kansas when we caught the VICAP counsellor, only a few towns over from where we arrested Travis. Then we ran into him on a different case in Oklahoma, and he happened to be in the same prison as a man from New Mexico I put away for killing pregnant women. Something about this all lines up so perfectly... I hate that I find it so interesting.”

“That is kind of insane,” Morgan agreed. “I think it just means you and Spencer are being pulled together by something with bigger plans than you realize. And you’re a good shot, so thankfully you have nothing to worry about now.”

“Thanks,” she smiled.

She held Spencer’s hand, looking down at the ring on her finger that meant she was his forever. As much as she hated the idea of a man owning a woman, she loved the idea that Spencer was her person forever.

They were tied together in a way no one would understand, she loved him deeper than she ever thought possible.

Everything happened for a reason. Her reason just so happened to be Fate wanting her to spend the rest of her life, Happily with Doctor Spencer Reid.

—

She woke up around noon the next day, Spencer was sitting up beside her reading a book when she finally clued into where she was. They had spent the night at Rossi’s house while the forensic cleanup team handled her kitchen and bedroom.

“Good morning,” she smiled up at him, stretching against the sheets as she fully woke up.

He put his book down and joined her, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her neck softly.

“Good morning,” he replied finally. She loved his voice when he hadn’t spoken yet. His vocal cords yearning to be used.

She smiled against his skin, holding him against her chest as she breathed him in. Her safety, her cosmic soulmate.

Everything just felt better in the world when they were pressed this close to each other. This was how they were meant to be.

“How are you feeling?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

She rolled him onto his back, snuggling into his chest and lifting a leg over him so the baby wasn’t squished. “Good, I’m excited to go back home later.”

“You’re not scared,” his fingers ran through her hair as she felt his breath on her face.

“No,” she shook her head against him. “Yesterday could’ve been a lot worse, but I’m trained to think on my feet and the danger is gone now. I’m never going to let myself be a victim in my own home.”

“I love you,” he reminded her. “And after yesterday-“

“I want to get married soon too,” she cut him off, getting up and sitting on his hips. She ran her hands over his chest as she looked down at his beautiful, still puffy, morning face.

He beamed up at her, “I feel it too, I want to make it official. I want to shout it from the rooftops that the love of my life chose me too.”

She nodded softly, “and we agreed that in April this year we’d go to Vegas, and we’d do it. I think we still should, I just want to plan it a little.”

“Of course,” he agreed, squeezing her thighs in his excitement. “Come here.”

She held his face in her hands as she leaned down, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip as she looked at him ever so softly. “I love you,” she said before kissing him.

His hands wandered over her back, holding her into the kiss. Breathing in deep through his nose, kissing her as if they hadn’t seen each other in months.

Spencer was desperate to love her, and she was desperate to be loved by him.

She broke the kiss to just look at him, moving his hair back and pressing her forehead against his. “The park across the street from my parents house,” she whispered.

“Mhmm.”

“I want to get married there, I want to start the rest of my life in the spot where I first really fell in love with you,” she explained, her lips close enough to him that the words could have stuck to his skin.

“I think I can pull some strings and get us a permit by April,” He smiled against her lips, “what day are we thinking?”

“The 23rd, 1 year exactly,” she said before Spencer pulled her back into another kiss, this time it’s soft and delicate. “Until forever,” she whispered against his lips.

“You need to promise me one thing,” he added. Feeling her nod as she kissed down his neck. “I know you said you’re fine, but the second you’re not I need you to tell me.”

“Okay,” she agreed, sitting back up as she straddled his hips. “You have to do the same, I can’t handle you crying in my arms like that again, it really broke my heart.”

He held his pinky out to her, she smiled as she wrapped her own around his. Both leaning in to kiss the other's knuckle, a small tradition Y/N adored.

—

They were back at their house by 5 pm. Hotch had ensured that everything was completely cleaned and there was 0 evidence that a crime had even taken place on the property. Penelope on the other hand had taken it upon herself to break into their alarm system and reset it for them shortly after everyone left.

They changed the code, closed the door and sighed at the beautiful home that felt a little different now. “I think I want to paint,” she announced.

“Yeah?” Spencer laughed at the suddenness.

“It’s too blah, y’know? I see what they were doing with the whites and beige for all the light. But, I’m thinking green in here to flow with the cabinets in the kitchen,” she walked through the foyer as she imagined the colours that would look good. “Like an olive or forest, maybe even jade. It’ll look nice with the dark wood.”

“That would be nice,” Spencer agreed. “Make it feel more like the old apartment.”

“Exactly,” she smiled. “I miss the clutter and the intimacy of the last place, and I know you miss the look of books everywhere.”

“I’m still alphabetizing them in my office,” he added. “I’d like to paint in there as well, I’ve been looking at antique chairs and couches for my reading.”

“Hotch is going to make us take 2 weeks off again,” Y/N looked at him with excitement. “We can put all our energy into this place now.”

“Let’s make it ours,” He agreed.

“Wanna go to the hardware store and look at paint samples?” She hopped with excitement, grabbing his arm and tugging on him.

He laughed, pulling her into his chest. “Sure, bunny,” he pressed his cheek to the top of her head as he held her. “What about Matthew’s room?”

“Oh, me and Penelope have it all planned, all the stuff is being delivered next month. She kinda went a little nuts,” Y/N laughed.

“He’s going to be one loved little boy,” Spencer chuckled. “Come on, let’s go.”

#hypothetically #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader

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sugar-petals · 4 years

Text

hey angel (m)

♡ sub!felix + reader

↳ The JYP Halloween party is ditched on short notice. That means: You have a down-to-celebrate boyfriend in full angel costume on your hands.

words. 5k

tags. domestic au, finger sucking, hickeys, latex, corruption kink, fingering, vaginal sex, footjob, harnesses, cunnilingus, kitten antics, edging, aftercare

★⎡CARO’S NOTE⎦› here goes the cutie on duty 👼

genre. domestic + smut/crack

„So sorry mate,“ Bang Chan’s voice resounds through the speaker. „I thought it could work but… We can’t celebrate tonight. Really sorry, Felix. Changbin and I already got dressed up too, but, you know things got shut down. JYP won’t let us with the Corona rules and stuff.“

„Oh no…“

„Yeah, man. Looks like we’ll have to do it next year.“

„You even prepared the food already, right?“

„We’re handing it out to staff and eat it at home. I know, it sucks. I spent half the morning in the kitchen. I can like keep the pumpkin cookies so you can eat them tomorrow after practice or so.“

„I feel so sorry Chan… and thank you.“

„I’ll be calling Hyunjin and Han now as well. Really sorry we’re cancelling short notice. I hope you’re still having a nice evening bro. Maybe we can make it happen for Christmas.“

„Okay. Cheers mate.“

„Yeah, cheers.“

Felix puts his phone down looking more than deflated in his angel costume, puffs out a big sigh. You can tell he really looked forward to this. Just an hour before, you bothered to sew the wings in place rather than rely on the wobbly back-pack like construction that came with it.

They’re firmly attached to his white top now, and all for nothing. He glued them together by himself with a pack of synthetic feathers ordered on Etsy for a ridiculous shipping cost, along with a little halo that he clipped into his hair. Which, because maybe it really does sense his mood, dangles low and even a bit lopsided over his head.

„It’s the party of the year,“ Felix flops down on the living room couch. “I can’t believe this.“

You sit down opposite to him, starting to clean off the table where masses of cosmetic products and leftover feathers have piles up.

„Next time, Lixie. We can keep the costume. Poor Chan, he organized the living shit out of everything.“

„I’ll just go and shower, get this off, and stuff,“ he points at his face. Felix applied his own makeup with a little help from you here and there, including some golden sparkles. Just yesterday, he bleached his hair. It’s sculpted down to every strand with hair spray now. Felix unties his sneakers with the little gold stars on. Just before he starts plucking off his halo, you get an idea, pick up your phone from the table.

„Wait— Let’s at least make some pictures with your phone, you put so much effort in this. You look so cute. The fans might want to see it as well.“

„Oh! You’re right,“ Felix stops right in his tracks. „For Instagram.“

After tightening his sneakers again and you making sure the halo sights right, Felix walks around your flat in search for a nice backdrop. You follow, quickly flipping through some filters to try, and adjusting the flash on the camera.

After posing at the fridge — strange idea — and in the bathroom turns out a little awkward as well, you decide that such an elaborate costume needs a themed background, and only the bedroom offers just that. You recently changed the duvet to sky blue sheets with clouds on them. The overall interior is mostly clean white as well, with some thrifted vintage furniture. Fairy lights, heavy curtains, a wooden ceiling. Perfect.

„We’ll caption it as… post your own stay-at-home costume, something like that,“ Felix plops down on the bed, acting as if he just took a seat on the cloud in the very middle.

„Sounds pretty good,“ you press release, and the first picture pops up on your screen. „Can you turn a little towards the light? That the sparkles are showing.“

„Yay, I love the sparkles!“

„Just like this, just like this. Don’t move. The sparkles!“

A five-picture series of more snapshots ensues, with you adjusting Felix’s face a few times by hand, even, turning his chin by sheer millimeters to find the perfect angle. He’s stunning.

„I have another idea.“

„Oh?“

„I remember what I wore for Halloween three years ago. The costume must be somewhere. I think it fits together with yours.“

„What, oh wow?“

„What was it again, wait…“

You already begin to sort through your wardrobe, checking each hanger, each drawer, end up where you store your socks, and finally pull out a larger plastic zip bag from the very depths of all that chaos. There it is. Nice.

„Lix, if you’d turn around for me, please.“

He immediately does. Blushing.

„Thank you, angel.“

You pull off your sweat pants, your grey shirt, socks, your bra. Time to dress up. Only your simple black panties stay on. On goes a pair of scarlet stockings, snug and high. Then, a dark red latex skirt that goes in big circles and flounces, down to the mid-thigh.

Added: A tight sleeveless peplum top that admittedly… and deliberately squeezes your boobs a little. Not too much. More important is that your nipples are showing right through, and the cleavage is sweeping, every demon would be salivating at your feet. If an angel does: Remains to be tested.

Around your waist and chest and over your shoulder goes a black harness, pulling everything together. Some very pointed, glossy pumps with thin heels complete the costume. They’re not crafted to be walked on in the very least, their balance is terrible. You’re planning something else with them. Cherry on top: Devil horn headband. Really curved and pointy, too. Can’t go wrong. You click your tongue and take a spin. The skirt flares out perfectly. Ready to go.

„Felix, time to turn around.“

He does. You can tell he didn’t cheat.

„You’re, you’re so hot in this,“ Felix buries his face right in the comfort of his sweater paws, hoping they would not give away his embarrassed little face. But — his voice does, effortlessly so.

„Come on, have a look at me. Real closely, angel, come. You’re allowed to.“

Felix gazes through his fingers with what sounds like a little meep! in a much more high-pitched tone than his usual speaking range. He’s cute.

„Hey pum’kin. Miss Lucifer speaking. Where’s the barbecue?“

Felix and you recently agreed that hell must be one big and extremely hot cave where everyone’s grilling and having a good time. Australia, essentially.

„Welp!“

„Damn right. Infiltrating God’s realm one cloud at a time. Any last words?“

„It’s so intimidating!“

Felix digs himself into a mountain of pillows on the bed, with only his eyes and nose peeking out. You shrug, adjust your horns.

„Hm. Time for my first satanic act I guess.“

„Oh no!“

„Wait just one minute, be a sweet and patient boy.“

You leave Yongbok confused given that you’re quick to hurry to the kitchen. However, what you return with puts a giggle on his lips right away.

„Boom. It is served.“

„Yes, yes, please!“

Poufy black cocoa cupcakes. The ones with the cute little ghost frosting on it, and the melted chocolate inside. Felix finds them irresistable since the last Halloween party, to the point where you bake them mid-July. The current set of cupcakes was meant to be a contribution to Bang Chan’s eerie and delectable buffet. As for now, they’re in deep need of someone hungry since you made a lot of them, assuming a post-workout Changbin would devour at least five or more.

„Good move,“ he admits, a little shaky, and you proceed to tray the cupcakes on the bed — stuffing Felix for a solid ten minutes until there’s chocolate all over his face. What you’ll be quick to confess is that you’ve been deliberately messy feeding him, with all the crumbs in particular.

„Spoiled honey bun,“ you plant a kiss on top of his head.

„These taste so good, I swear.“

Next up is Felix who has to carefully maneuver the sweet treats into your mouth without spoiling your outfit.

„If you get crumbs into my cleavage, I can’t put your face in there later you know.“

Fierce nodding.

„That’s the spirit.“

Under your eagle eyes, he proves to be an obedient little cherub doing his job pretty well. The cakes are delicious in how spongy they are, and the liquid chocolate warms up so well on the tongue, it melts even more. You’re more than pleased and have Felix store away the remaining four pieces only after quite a while.

„I’ll have them for Brekkie, woo!“ is what he’s fast to proclaim, and you agree he’ll need them the next morning. Once you’re done with him, that’s gonna count as a hangover even Chan’s wildest party couldn’t give him.

„We’re talking dinner first, Felix.“

At this point, all the sugar is kicking in. Or it’s the chocolate being some kind of aphrodisiac. Whatever, could be either, you’re feeling like you’re up there at the ceiling, and you’re not the only one. Felix coming back to the bedroom so bouncy and cutieful just gets you even more in the mood.

You sit at the edge of the bed, slanting backward just a little. „You look like you need some more corruption, I won’t lie,“ you pat your lap, beckoning. He can ditch wifi because this is his favorite hot spot waiting for him. Felix sits down looking tiny as ever, eyes full of anticipation and his pants full of… big fat late night erection.

„I don’t mind at all, Miss. I don’t, oh my god…“ he mumbles into his nonexistent Aussie trucker beard, and you’re clear that whatever the skirt did to him, his brain must be doing kangaroo somersaults right now. In the meantime, something very eager is poking right at your lower belly. Captain Boomerang already came fully armed tonight and the Suicide Squad isn’t even anywhere near to be seen.

„Oh hey hey, cupcake. Getting really big there,“ you wipe at the curled little corners of his mouth. Some crumbs come off. His lips already twitch the way you know they want to do naughty things on you. He doesn’t seem to notice. Autopilot Felix has already taken over.

„Don’t hurry with it,“ he stares, mouth half-open, but his little grinds prove him a dirty — in an entirely direct sense — fucking liar. Like he’s literally rubbing himself against your stomach.

„Boy oh boy. You’re not even trying.“

„I’m fucked!“ is what Felix soon realizes with the daggers you’re shooting at him through your hopefully very satanic-looking eyes right now. Alongside catching up with his darn hips doing their own thing.

„You are.“

„I’m sorry for grinding, God help me!“

„He won’t. Cuz I’m here on your cloud. Cue stage number two of my demonic plan. Safeword?“

„It’s chocolate!“

„Mh. Good pick.“

The rest as usual. Tapping the thigh, yellow for pause, towels plus water ready, and always double-checking the lube in case of Jisung putting a glass of vegemite under your bed as his latest practical joke. Yes, it happened. It’s a whole new level of demonic. On the other hand: perhaps Felix’ ass could’ve actually handled it, Made in Australia it is.

„Let’s go honey angel,“ you curl at his hair with a little finger just to tease him a little more. The answer is a little meow, at this point Felix’ communication skills have simplified to kitten vocabulary which always happens when he is nervous and looking forward to something.

Next thing poor Felix knows, his face has entered the scorching satanic abyss that is your cleavage. Literally, you’re burning up. It’s fucking October and Felix has you breaking a sweat from all your horniness (literally, your horns are just that chic) already. Twice the reason to punish the shit out of him. If that can be considered anything near a punishment.

A shower of various „Mh— nh!“ and mewling noises comes to rain down on you while Felix face takes a trip down mammary lane, and that, too, is literal. He’s salivating. So much about rain. Actually, great lubrication. Felix always does things best by instinct.

„Yes, good boy. Great job.“

Now that his mouth is wet already, you’re unceremonious about shoving your fingers right down his throat after he resurfaces. Blushed, hard, and ready to choke himself since he’s already running short on breath. It doesn’t take long until he’s gagging himself stupid and the sparkles under his eyes start running.

„Pretty, pretty,“ you lean down a little, kissing his nose. „Give me all you got.“

„Gh—gch—“

The answer is as slobbery and unintelligible as can be. To a normal human, at least. You’re a demonic top. That automatically means having an Ivy League major in gag noise translation.

„Oh yes, I know,“ you stroke his hair, using your free hand that usually rests at the back of his neck. „Talk to me about it. Exactly what I was thinking. Do go on.“

And he does, louder than ever. If there’s one satisfying sound, it’s this, that heavenly deep voice doing all kinds of nasty acrobatics is making you go crazy. That Felix is absolutely close to cumming in his angel pants is very much clear to you given how the veins and muscles on his neck are having a chaotic Halloween party on their own.

Which includes his tongue taking turns on your two fingers as well. And a wide-eyed Felix struggling, swallowing, holding on to your shoulders with his little feet twitching in their sneakers. Like mad… and you love it. But also — hopelessly sucking and moaning and slurping and squealing until his neck has way too much saliva on it for you not to make it your next target. Felix is so good at this. Way too good.

„Looks delicious,“ you lean in, your hair tickles his ears. And now, you’re busy nibbling, biting a little… and most importantly, giving Felix a wet hickey that will send his makeup artist — my God, you really torture the unsuspecting man almost weekly — into a meltdown. Rowdy and unholy is the look you’re going for.

In the meantime, Felix is still wrapped up trying to hit your fingers at the back of his throat. If his cute bouncy run and rude boner moment didn’t turn you on already, now you would be. The way he’s just sucking in his own spit makes you realize that you won’t ever need a fire brigade for your flat.

You emerge from his neck and raise your brows. Felix is just hard-wired to impress. „Just how much saliva can you produce!“

„Ch… Mnh— Nh…“

Hitting some more complex syntax and consonants there, is he.

„Oh, I get it now. You stayed hydrated during the day. Thanks for explaining, mate. That’s the secret.“

Whether that’s perfectly scientifically correct down to the enzyme theory and shit neither of you can google right now. At least you know that you’re both drenched on either end so that’s that.

Once Felix is so horny from deepthroating your damn hand that he has pull off and yellow-word, you’re already prepared for introducing a new position which you can prepare while he’s gathering himself and wiping off his chin. You hand him a second towel for his neck, and present him a little hand mirror to see how the hickey turned out.

„It’s shaped like, hm,“ he pants, words still slurring a little. „I dunno! It’s really cute!“

„Let me see… No doubt that’s a rice cake hickey. That’s the shape.“

„You’re right!“

And off he goes snapping a selfie with it while you get comfortable on your back, cleaning your own fingers.

„Just don’t upload that one to Insta instead of the cloud shots, we’re not gonna survive another Manager call at 1:15 AM.“

„Can I use your phone for it? That’s where it’s supposed to be on, anyway.“

Felix giggles a little. That cute brat. Always knowing how it’s done.

„Sure babe!“

And voilà, Felix is already occupied setting a good view of his new rice cake-shaped friend as your phone background. Good thing, helps his erection cool down a little, he was about to blow up his poor white pants. The acceptable unfair feat being that he’s just riling you up even more like that on the other hand.

„If you come to mommy now,“ you wriggle one foot in the air, the other splayed on the duvet, knee slightly bent. „Rubbing her pussy and doing your thing, you know how it goes.“

„Angel duties calling! What am I doing!“

At the speed of sound, Felix stores your phone back on the bedside table and crawls over in an instant. He props his chin on your abdomen and blinks.

„Sorry Ma’am. At your service. Never wanna keep you waiting.“

A big smile rouses his cheeks, and you boop them from either side. His peach fuzz is so soft and his eyes are so beautifully dark. You don’t waste any time keeping your skirt down for any longer. Another blink and Felix is already pawing — well, kneading and caressing technically — between your legs. He’s visibly understanding just how wet the whole finger sucking circus has left you now.

„What if I used my heels on your cock, boo. Still no cumming. Just my heels and my lil’ prince.“

Satanic plan stage number three. Felix has gotten to savor it last Christmas and for his birthday, and some time around the holidays in summer.

„I love it yay!“ Felix claps his hands. Baby, baby.

„C’mere then. Just keep on rubbing.“

His arms are fairly long enough. While you’re dragging the slender heels of either shoe right across the outlines on his crotch, Felix, eyes loosely closed, maintains a steady rhythm on your clit with three fingers lined up on the fabric of your panties.

„Oh fucking hell, Felix, shit—“

Whenever you masturbate, that alone would never do. You’d get frustrated after a while. Need more stimulation. But when Felix is on angel duty to keep your pussy soaked, it doesn’t need much to make your clit throb, even with your underwear still on. Guess that God’s little helpers know how to work their magic to make your head spin.

He’s hitting the right spot, with the right moves, and his other hand doesn’t miss out on a single opportunity to stroke at both the in- and outside of your thighs. The touch is so subtle, you twitch. Felix strokes on, delirious himself. His eyelids flutter.

„Fuck…“

Despite the little pause from earlier taking out most of his tension, your heels leave Felix with pants that are even more bulged out. That’s making it easy to direct your feet to jerk up and down at either side. You’d never know either of you would be so into this. Foot fetish and all.

Once he’s edged you to the point of moans, last thing you properly remember is calling it quits with the panties and telling him to line himself up. The heels kicked off, the skirt still on, you decide that unpacking your Halloween treat has been long overdue. You slide his pants down, roll down a pink condom, and grab his cock at the base to glide it all over your wet lips.

„Lix, come fuck me. You got me all horny. Satan is recruiting.“

„With me it’s not sinning,“ he smiles, brighter than the sun and you do right along. It’d be hard not to. Felix truly has the innocence of a virgin, the subtle confidence of an intermediate, the caution of a pro, and the kindness of a real veteran.

„You’re right about that Felix,“ you say, prop your entrance at the very tip, let the wetness do its job. „Come kiss your honey girl.“

And he does. Entering you with care for the right angle, letting your hip do the rest. What’s been circling and sucking your fingers so deliciously is now doing a hot job teasing and pleasing your tongue all over. His lips are amazingly soft and plump, they open so gently and feel electric on yours. A gentle squeeze around your left breast sparks a moan into the kiss from you. It’s Felix massaging your breasts while deepening his penetration, and you can tell the vegemite can stay under the bed today. You can tell Felix is getting more than flustered knowing it was all him who made you this dripping wet.

Even his dick seems to blush in sync. It’s fucking pink and red. Oh wait, that’s the condom. But knowing him and from your viewpoint, it’s still more flushed than before, no kidding. Faithfully pumping in and out of you at its full length now. You wrap your legs around his waist, the thrusts become deeper, shorter, parting you open much more, and filling you out so properly.

„So good. Right there, angel. Just right there. I’m loving that.“

Felix has a great dick. Best handy size, the girth’s comfortable, all nice and bendy, virtually no curve, you can always gyrate on it in any way and even take a complete 180 if you go from cowgirl to reverse (which you’d be doing right now but he’d crush his wings if he were on his back like that so no). Cherry on top, compact but soft balls that don’t steal the show but still do the trick during doggy. They’re whipping up the best cum in the world, so.

The slow kissing goes on and on and Felix tries to walk the tightrope of neither letting your pussy lips suck the orgasm out of him, nor making you cream his cock with shaky legs from all that gorgeous sloppy friction, and the kissing, and his sweet cherry shampoo scent that has your brain in absolute limbo.

With everything hanging by a thread like that, every kiss becomes special and full of a suspense that makes your lips tremble — either set, and Felix can hardly bear it himself.

His little halo is dangling back and forth, and you can tell by his face that all that thrusting has him in serious trouble. And you? Are fucking leaking and groaning, and that little shallow series of first contractions before your orgasm is already preparing you.

The sugar high from the cupcakes is fading, but your adrenaline is sure to replace it. You just want Felix to fuck you more and rock against him, and hold his head, and kiss him. God, his mouth is so warm and inviting, tastes so good like cocoa.

The pace joins yours without any effort, it adapts when your rhythm changes, and it stabilizes everything when you’re currently riding the high of his cock really filling you out so you can clench your muscles around him, feel him and tell him just you wait, I’ll milk you. He’s such a good kisser. You can feel all of your wetness running down your ass like it’s Christmas.

„Felix, I’m overflowing.“

„I’m so sorry,“ he whines into the kiss. „I’ll be washing the sheets.“

„Listen, baby,“ you break the tongue-on-tongue, „you doing laundry is really sexy. But the overflow is the best part. Just look what you’re doing to my body.“

You could ravage him on the spot. He’d probably lose it and cum in two seconds. Holding yourself before the edge is so tough right now.

„Shit… yellow again. Need a moment.“

Felix has to resort to a bit of cockwarming, and you use the little break to rid yourself off the harness. It’s not perfectly comfortable when you’re lying down. You’re about to fling it off the bed that Felix asks to wear it. Oh. Very well. It actually goes as a nice contrast on his white top, and the straps make it easy to adjust to him. And he wants it to sit on him really tightly. Oh again.

You realize—

On you, it’s only a fashion piece. Something random that came with the costume.

On him: It’s kinky.

„Hey hey. You look sexy, pum’kin,“ you pat at his chest. „Look at your waist, wow.“

Your sweet boy. It’s like it’s made for him. So cinched and the exact opposite of his costume. He’s a corrupted, dirty angel now, it’s perfect. With his pink neck and all sweaty face, and his little puppy gaze that will haunt you in your sex dreams because it literally just gets into your pants so much. Oh god, you just wanna cum. You have to distract yourself with chaste images of Felix washing the dishes or writing grocery lists with little hearts and emojis on them but that just makes it five times worse.

The way he puts the harness on with his dick inside you is so mouthwatering and cumworthy, you can’t wait to resume and switch your own brains off on that angel cock. Once Felix is ready to exit phase yellow and resume the session, your hands magically gravitate towards the straps of the harness at this waist.

„Can I?“

„M—hm!“

You have the time of your life grabbing and guiding him by the harness, controlling every thrust. Felix clenches up his teeth from how lavishly his cock is squeezing into your pussy.

„Oh babe,“ you groan out. „Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Come on, angel.“

He’s not going to take it much longer. Felix is tensing all over, neck to the knees, it’s a huge shock wave in the making. That climax is going to be like a fucking punch into outer space.

„I’m really at my limit, I’m, I’m…!“

„Cum for me, angel,“ you reach to his neck to bring his lips down again. Your mouths going into shaky contact brings a big soaring moan with it.

„Ahn—!“

You lock lips, his face scrunches up, and you can tell that cum worth of three orgasms is currently pooling into the condom. You don’t belong to the mile high club, but going by how far up this feels, you might as well be. Those sweet shivers. And the little whines. It’s all too much for him, this one got him bad. Felix cumming is like the angels really are singing. With bells and harps and all that shit at once.

After pulling out, the ruined condom goes off lightning fast. Felix’ cock gets some much-needed cooling, but his face is on heavy duty. How he does it after almost getting his lights turned off, it’s a mystery, it must have been six whole loads he shot into you. You’d already be collapsing in his shoes. Felix still being able to put his mouth to work is an act of divine intervention. Honestly though, it doesn’t even take half a minute. Sloppy head from Felix is cryptonite, your stamina comes tumbling down. His tongue just knocks you out with an overwhelming rush of pleasure.

“Oh— yes...”

What is gravity? You don’t know what north and south mean anymore. He laps and sucks you through your high and your legs give up their soldier service. All you see it fluffy blonde strands of hair peeking from below your skirt, a glimpse of the harness, the rest is heavy growling and swearing from all of the contractions and Felix getting raw and dirty Down Under with no fears, literally none, to bury his face and move it around and let his tongue loose. Time and again Felix shows you he’s a swallower. Satanic agenda: success.

For tonight, your pussy will be nothing but glitter, cum, and spit. Swollen like crazy, properly fucked, and tipped to the absolute limit. Felix keeps on slicking up his face completely, and then brings you into the afterglow with his fingers. One at a time, barely adding stimulation. Just fetching you where you are and climbing down. Looks like you’ll share the cupcakes, this is a couple hangover in the making. In Felix’ case in particular. It’s like he signed up for testing a mad scientist’s latest designer drug.

„Wow wow… So you served me choco cupcakes and God’s menu,“ is the last thing he can say in his delirium before falling over. He’s so fucked out and went so wild on eating you, a part of the harness came off. Thank god his nose is so small, all that swiping could’ve broken the bridge and whatnot. And his lips, they’re twice as plump. You really have to compliment in on what his mouth has done today because that was some champ shit.

You’re both buffering on the sheets for a solid five minutes until you roll to the side. Towel… water… forehead kisses. Yes, forehead kisses most importantly. After gathering yourself a little, you pamper Felix into a heart rate around 90 rather than 120. And with the onset of exhaustion for the two of you, that’s not too hard after some minutes passing. Whispering sweet nothings and praise is all you do up until 2 AM and after. Felix is somewhere between worlds, one foot in the door of the dreamland, the other soaking up the care and the intoxicating, thick scent of the room that has a lot of cherry shampoo in it.

At some point. You loosen the harness, pull off his shirt with the wings attached. The halo you unsuccessfully try to spot in his hair. Turns out: It flew off. Felix really must’ve made Satan proud if it fell down just like that. Good job. Felix has earned a title of being a dirty angel now, and by the way he’s chugging water now, a wet one on top of that.

Five tons of spit, six, seven, who knows how many he’s afforded for today. A head pat is not enough, it has to be several, and Felix passes out onto the pillows. As good as you can, you wipe him down, bin the condom, get off his shoes and his half-pulled down trousers. After staggering to the bathroom, your skirt and peplum shirt follows, the stockings stay on, they’re cozy as hell. Last but not least, you remove your devil horns. It feels like they granted you the most unknown demonic powers.

Next time Felix is on his way to making you cum again, you’ll be wearing them, and you’ll last the way you did tonight. Meanwhile, Bang Chan is blowing up your phone because Felix pressed send by accident earlier, but you don’t notice. It just keeps on vibrating on the bedstand and Chris will have to riddle over the rice cake selfie for the rest of November.

Felix dozes with an angelic little smile on his lips and puffs his cheeks in his sleep, his makeup wiped and his hair truly messy. Instagram can wait. Maybe you’ll get to brush your teeth a little later, it usually takes some time until you wake up again and topple to the sink. You huddle together, tuck your sweet baby pum’kin into his second favorite spot at your chest. Ah, the glory of Felix little spooning.

As the last signature, you nibble at his ear, call him your cutie pie, and switch the lights off. You have to listen closely but if you do, it’s like Felix is purring in his sleep. Whatever your own dreamland is planning to launch on you tonight, you’re looking forward to it.

PS — oh, my good ole fellas, a last cursed disclaimer. i must insist on the following for obvious reasons. vegemite makes for some terrible strap lube okay 😂🇦🇺

like my writing? donate: ko-fi

#felix x reader #sub!felix #felix smut #skz #stray kids #felix x dom!reader #skz smut #lee felix #lee felix smut #lee felix fanfic #skz fanfic #female reader #sub!skz #sub!stray kids #sub felix #sub skz #felix fic #original content #hey angel

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akajustmerry · 3 years

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Wait what’s wrong with the suicide squad 2021?

i'm so glad you asked!

putting harley in a frilly dress, where she sees flowers and daisies while killing people, and having her say benign high one-liners isn't true to her character at all! it's actually just infantilising her while at the same time objectifying her. the way her torture scene was sensually framed made me fucking ill. harley is a person who feels pain, not a manic pixie sexy murder doll. she and i quote, has a phd motherfucker

also sorry but if you think her speech to the duke guy or whatever is groundbreaking just say u didn't see birds of prey.

viola davis was beyond disrespected in the 2021 movie, in fact she was degraded. amanda waller is a fucking authority figure and to have her so violently put down in the 2021 movie was dehumanising and had the added effect of lowering the stakes IMMENSLY for the overall plot. at least in the 2016 movie, the explosive collars were an actual threat.

i cannot express how fucking racist and tone-deaf the 2021 movie is i actually do not even know where to start. how about treating brown ppl as interchangeable and casting a Maori man to play a Portuguese woman's father? how about making up a country and casting non-descript brown resistance fighters from that country just so the protagonists can kill them on mass for a gag with zero consequences? how about another ongoing gag being that no can pronounce the country they're in? for a movie purporting to criticise american military imperialism, it sure is bulging with ugly american imperialist attitudes.

and the tone-deafness? in 2021 you made a movie where a Black woman threatens a Black man by telling him his Black daugher will get raped in prison?? what the FUCK is wrong with people they think that's good writing?

the fucking toilet humour oh my fucking god. whatever you have to say about 2016 movie at least it didn't rely on fucking 69 jokes and dick jokes. at least 2016's humour actually was in the physicality, performances and chemistry between the characters

the plots of 2016/2021 are mostly the same except instead of having a skybeam of death, 2021 had a killer starfish which just looked fucking corny. it wasn't even consistently written?? they pulled them off their face once and those fuckers didn't even try to attack them??

at least the 2016 movie leaned into a sort of honour among misfits theme as a personality for the film. this new movie's whole personality is LOOK HOW HORRIBLE AND VIOLENT THESE PEOPLE ARE ISN'T THAT NIFTY. newsflash: being openly unlikeable isn't what makes characters likeable, a personal code does, which none of these characters had so i didn't give a fuck. again, in the first movie they actually took the time to establish the unique moral codes of each of the characters!!

people saying the 2021 movie was paced better are fucking kidding themselves. this movie is way too long and takes 40 minutes before the main plot even is announced. at least in the 2016 movie they streamlined that with waller's fun profile montage, which again this movie did copy but somehow people think this movie is ✨different ✨

i don't give a fuck about millenial jokes but its a red flag to me if a movie is making a joke at the expense of its major target audience in the first 20 minutes. huge red flag,

idk i could go on and on but there really isn't a single thing this movie improved on. the characters were less interesting, mostly the actors who played them were sleepwalking through their performances, soundtrack sucked, the costumes were awful, the cinematography had way too much exposure and everything about it felt gimmicky in the worst way, king shark wasn't even characterised as the intelligent Atlantis king he is. a fucking waste of time.

this movie had one ONE good moment and that was killing captain boomerang or as i call him captain cultural appropriation.

anyways all of this is a huge reason why I am always sceptical when something is praised en masse for being groundbreaking because it generally means it actually is just appealing to existing horrible tastes.

#the suicide squad #birds of prey #harley quinn #anon #fk this movie

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adhdeancas · 3 years

Text

Dean Winchester (and the script leaks last night) possessed me to write this.

Dean happens upon Chuck's latest book: Carry On. Except it ends differently than it really went, and the ending? It's really fucking bad.

tw: suicide mention, transphobia (quickly shut the fuck down)

Dean doesn’t make a habit of going to bookstores. Not because he hates books, contrary to what Sam might think; he just prefers to buy used books. There’s something comforting about a book that has already been worn and read over and over, that already shows how much the previous owner loved it. Plus, y’know, big corporations are evil and all that. And Dean only allows himself to overlook that when his stomach or his wallet wins over his hatred of the shitty mass-produced products.

This time it was Jack who won; he’s obsessed with this new fantasy series and the new book just came out, so there’s no way he can hunt it down on Ebay. He makes his way to the fantasy and sci-fi section, eyes roaming over the displays of new releases, and his eye catches on something that turns his blood cold.

“Supernatural: Carry On, The Final Book of the Winchesters’ Epic Journey” takes up a whole table, the generic and overly serious cover jeering out at him.

He storms over to the display, anger covering up for the way his body feels light as a feather and like lead all at once, and picks up a book. “Why is Sam always fucking shirtless?” he mutters, the only thought that allows itself from the mess inside his head to his mouth.

“Book sales.” A voice behind him says. He turns to see a teenager with their arms crossed over their work polo, pierced lip fixed into a customer-unfriendly frown.

“People want to see that?”

They snort, a small grin turning up the corner of their lips. It reminds Dean of Cas. “No. But that’s what advertisers think all ‘women’ want,” They use air quotes.

He raises an eyebrow and asks. “Women?”

They shrug and uncross their arms, leaning back against the display table behind them. Their nametag says Jadyn. “Supernatural’s biggest block of readers is queer. I’d go out on a limb and say a lot of those the marketers think of as ‘women’ aren’t, or if they are, they aren’t itching to see Sam’s six pack.” Jadyn smirks.

Dean takes a second to digest that, then grins down at the book, thinking past Sam’s apparently badly-received nudity now. “So how’d they like it?” he asks, waving the book a bit and looking up at Jadyn. Apparently they know a lot about the fans of the books, and for once, he’s proud of the way the story ended.

Jadyn’s face sets into all hard lines. “Most people fucking hated it.” they say bluntly, then, probably remembering that he’s a customer, correct. “Sorry. I mean, it got some good reviews, mostly from people who like Wincest, but beyond that, it had some problematic plot points.”

Dean winces at the reminder of the ship between him and his brother, then scrunches his whole face together in confusion. “Wait, what? Why?” Why would Wincest fans like it? What was problematic about their end?

Jadyn shifts from foot to foot. “I don’t wanna spoil anything for you-”

“I don’t care about spoilers, just give me the short version.” Dean says quickly. A quiet panic is rising in him, and suddenly he has a horrible feeling that he’s not holding the truth in his hands anymore.

“Uh, okay… Well, the most obvious thing is the bury-your-gays thing, then there’s the fact that it completely contradicted the rest of the lore. And it was ableist, misogynistic, and messed up, like, every character’s arc.” they take a breath, clearly worked up by it. “Even if they changed any of the details too, it was all built on Dean’s death, and that’s just bullshit. Sorry.” they apologize again, apparently mistaking Dean’s stricken expression to be in reaction to their rant and swearing.

“No, nah, you’re… you’re okay. Uh, thanks.” he waves a hand and wanders away from them, only remembering Jack’s book when he’s almost to the register. He manages to make his way back and find the damn thing, but he’s still in a fog when he gets to the register.

“Did anyone help you in the store today?”

“Huh?” he looks up and meets the middle-aged cashier’s gaze for the first time. Brent, from the nametag, looks at him impatiently. “Oh, yeah, uh… Jadyn. Jadyn helped me.” Brent scoffs and starts typing with a shake of the head. “Uh, is there a problem?” Dean asks, a little annoyed at this cashier’s unnecessary attitude. He usually doesn’t care if an employee’s rude, because they have to deal with assholes all the time and honestly Dean isn’t much better, but this one gives him a bad feeling.

“No, no, sorry. It’s just - “Jadyn’s” got this idea that he’s a girl. Makes everybody call him that name now too. Just-” Brent shakes his head. “I mean, you get it. Their generation, everybody wants to be special.”

Dean glares. “No, I don’t get it, Brent.” He says through gritted teeth. “Seems to me like Jadyn probably deals with enough assholes like you that her asking for a little basic decency is the exact opposite of special. Sounds pretty normal, actually.” He can see the fear creep into Brent’s eyes, and he knows the cashier is reacting to the murderous look in his eyes more than his actual words.

Brent hands Dean his bag of books with a quiet, “Here you go.”

Dean snatches it away. “Oh, Brent?” he checks over his shoulder to make sure they’re alone and then leans across the counter into Brent’s space. “You should find a new job, one where you don’t have to interact with other people. At least until you learn how to stop being a piece of shit.” He starts to ease away but thinks better about it. “And if you think that’s a suggestion, it’s not. My husband likes this book coming out next month that I’ll need to buy, and if I see you here when I come, well… it would be really embarrassing for you to tell all your little friends that you got your ass beat by a ‘special’ guy, huh?” He pats Brent on the cheek condescendingly and leaves with a huff.

Damn transphobes.

He only remembers the book once he’s back in Baby, and he takes the time to drive out of town before he pulls over to read it. It’s an old abandoned church, the cross long since fallen from the roof and the doors hanging off their hinges. He sits on the steps just because being in Baby seems claustrophobic for once in his life, and going back to the bunker to look at this is just… not happening.

Dean only skims the beginning to see that it starts the same. The ground erupting with bodies, hell spitting out its most-conveniently placed nasties, Rowena sacrificing herself, Cas leaving. His throat closes up at that, at Chuck’s description of Cas’s heartbroken expression as he climbs the stairs of the bunker. He clears his throat and skips to the end, right past Cas’s death that he doesn’t have the time to think about right now, past them defeating Chuck and then stops. He goes back a few pages, trying to find the disconnect.

The story’s different.

After Jack takes on God’s power, in the book, he’s totally fine. Not almost vibrating out of his skin or anything, not crying like the three year old he is because he’s scared. Not like it really happened. He just smiles and leaves him and Sam, and they let him go.

Dean scoffs, skimming over the story as it just gets more ridiculous.

In the book, he doesn’t even try to save Cas. They barely even mention him. And they never mention Eileen, either. In fact, Dean notes disbelievingly, practically the only characters in the last few chapters are him and Sam. They’re hunting again.

“What, is Chuck trying to keep the series going?” he whispers to himself, anger flaring through him. They let Chuck live, and he decided to write obnoxious fanfiction about them? He’s gonna kill that shameless little fucker. For real, this time. He deserves it.

In the book, Sam and Dean torture some vampire mime, and they enjoy it. Dean cringes; this is really what Chuck thinks of them. Then they tussle with more vamps in a barn and-

Dean’s brain stops working. He rereads the scene again and again.

“There’s something in my… something in my back. It feels like it’s right through me.”

Dean Winchester dies in a dirty barn, on a piece of freaking rebar.

More than that, Dean realizes on his fourth read-through. This Dean? He tried to drag out his speech, Dean can tell by the way he pauses for fucking drama. He would never do that. He would never talk to Sam for fifteen hellish minutes when he could be trying. Trying to live, so he can actually get his life back on track, get his family back. No, he made that speech stalling. He made that speech so Sam wouldn’t try to save him.

“You gotta admit, I had one helluva ride.” He was strangely calm.

Chuck made him kill himself.

Dean reads the rest of the book through blurry eyes, reading an ambiguous and nothing-ending, one where he’s somehow happy to be dead and driving around in heaven alone while Sam raises a kid into hunting and cries about Dean decades after he’s died. Eileen isn’t mentioned. Cas is mentioned once, and Bizzarro-Dean doesn’t even think about seeing him, apparently. The whole book ends with a hug between him and Sam, both dead. Both alone.

Dean rips the ending up. He tears through the stupid paper covering and keeps ripping the pages up until they’re the size of confetti. His lower lip wobbles. He throws the whole thing against the side of the building, and it tumbles through the broken doorway and drops into a pile of dust and dirt. “That isn’t the fucking ending.” he grounds out, knocking his hand against the flimsy handrail. It gives a little under his fist and he kicks at it. “That isn’t the fucking ending!”

He’s having a panic attack. Again. He tries to take deep breaths, but they’re gulping, too big, they’re making him panic more. He scrambles back to Baby and grabs his phone, presses the first number on his favorites list and waits for him to answer on speaker phone.

“Hey Dean, what’s up?” Sam sounds like he’s been laughing. There are voices in the background, and Dean tries to convince himself one of them is Eileen.

“Hey Sammy.” he chokes out, trying to sound normal. “You busy?”

There’s a pause, and then the sounds in the background. “Nah, Rowena’s just over.” he says casually.

“So those voices in the background were-”

“Rowena and Eileen, yeah. They’re trying to convince me we need to go to Mexico. For the beaches.” A smile in his voice. Dean lets out a sigh of relief. What’s up, Dean? You need something?” The smile drops, and Sam’s worried.

Sam’s okay. Sam’s okay. “No, nah. Hey, you heard from Donna lately?” Dean just needs to triple-check.

“Uh, no, not since Sunday dinner… Dean, you okay?”

“Yeah, she just- she hasn’t been answering my texts. Just wanted to make sure.” Dean lies quickly. His breathing is still uneven, but his body is settling into uneven shakes.

Sam sounds skeptical. “Yeah, well, she did tell us it’s been pretty busy at work lately. Y’know, everybody going out for the first time with COVID, getting stupid. Plus, y’know, nowhere’s drowning in EMTs right now.”

“Right. Yeah.” Dean takes a deep breath, a distant memory of Donna talking about that coming back to him.

“Pretty sure you were setting up a D&D session with Charlie while she was talking about that,” Sam laughs. Dean knows he means it as a subtle jab, but there’s too much relief flooding through him to care. Still, a string is pulled taut in him, and Sam can’t fix that completely.

“Gotta go, Sam,” Dean hangs up before Sam can say anything else, and goes to his next contact. It rings for far too long, and Dean’s heartbeat picks back up to thundering.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas,” Dean breathes out. “Cas, you know I love you, right?” He needs to test all the bounds of this, to make sure, just to make sure. Make sure Chuck isn’t still fucking with him. Because apparently, Chuck won’t let him be queer. Not in his story. Not out loud.

He can hear Cas’s eyebrow raise through the phone, and his chest is overcome with stupid fondness. “I would be a little worried if you didn’t.”

Dean grins widely. “Like, romantically. I’m in love with you. Because you’re the love of my life and I’m bisexual.” He says it all like it’s a checklist, like he expects some cosmic being to slap a hand over his mouth before he gets each next phrase out.

“Yes, Dean. We’ve been married almost two months.” Cas is smiling. It happens everytime he talks about their wedding. Dean adores it. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, now it is.” His whole body relaxes, still vibrating with leftover panic, but satisfied. “I got Jack’s book.”

“Oh, good. He’ll be so pleased.” Cas pauses. “Dean, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dean eases off the ground and sends a last look at the dilapidated church before climbing into Baby. “Just- read a bad book. I’ll tell you about it later. When I get home.”

#i fixed it #god fucking damn it #dean winchester #destiel #saileen #saileena #sam winchester #castiel #eileen leahy #castiel winchester #jack kline #roweena #my writing #ficlet #deancas #trans dean #trans woman OC #tw: transphobia #tw: suicide mention

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calliopesstories · 3 years

Text

We’ll Be Reunited Again - Chapter 1

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Dad!Bucky and Daughter Barnes

Warnings: 18+, violence, blood, mass death, torture, mutilation, thought of suicide, scientifically inaccurate (not a scientist so it might be a bit of a stretch), blackmail major character death ? /!\ Not proof read and non-english speaker writter /!\

Summary: After everything he had been trough Bucky has finally the life he deserved. It was almost too perfect. He had a wonderful wife and an amazing daughter, a house in the suburbs and he’s integrated in this century he knew so little of. Of course it was going to go south, he had been happy and lucky for to long and Fate had decided to take everything from him. But he wouldn’t let happiness run through in fingers now that he had a taste of it. If he had to search the entire planet to find his family, he would do it because this time he would care to kill his enemies.

Words: 2,946

Author’s Note: I’m a huge zombie movie fan and knowing there’ll be a What If...? that’ll use the zombie universe of the comics, I just couldn’t help myself. Marvel + zombies = happy me! But I won’t use this storyline for my story in case you’re wondering. It’ll be mainly Bucky’s POV with Y/N’s POV time to time.

Part 2 here

“If you have time, can you go to the pharmacy take Becky’s cough syrup. I won’t have the time to do that in addition to go take Becky at day-care, make diner for tonight…oh no!”

“What it is, love?”

“I have to buy groceries, we’re out of everything at home” you growled, hitting your forehead with your phone. “I’m such an idiot!”

You heard Bucky’s laugh at the other end of the line. If he hadn’t been gone for almost two weeks you would have strangled him. You wanted to make his favourite meal but your lazy ass had pushed back the chores until you had no other choice.

“I have to go honey, see you tonight. I love you.”

“Not as much as I love you.”

A smile curved your lips. You still had a busy day ahead of you but you couldn’t wait to have Bucky back home, you hated when he was away with Steve, Sam and Natasha doing God knows what. He didn’t like it either but fighting is what he does best, so until he finds a real job, he’s helping the Avengers – let’s be honest, being a superhero isn’t a job it’s more charity work than anything else.

Your day ended later than expected, one of your colleagues had asked you to stay a little longer to help him prepare the academic decathlon. You parked your car, knowing perfectly well that your daughter was watching your every movements impatiently. Just as you entered your daughter ran to you, her arms wrapping around your legs.

“Mrs Barnes,” oh, how you like being called like this. You turned around to see a young woman, in her early twenties. “Hi, I’m Claire. I thought you might want this; Rebecca have done it this afternoon.”

It was a drawing of a white cat. The same white cat she had drawn for about three months, since she had seen a reality TV taking place in a shelter. The first drawing had been subtle, she had drawn the three of you with a small kitty but as time passed Becky’s drawing had been more centred around the white cat. Nonetheless you took the drawing in one hand and your daughter in the other.

Groceries took an hour and a half because Rebecca had the amazing idea to put everything with a Disney character in the shopping cart and of course you only realised it before getting in line to pay. It’s a good thing you are patient but Bucky would hear about this. Yes, it was his fault and you both knew it, every time he came back from groceries you saw the same things Rebecca had put in the cart. You loved them both but the were driving you crazy. As if seeing you out of your mind was a sport practiced by the two of them.

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“That’s not too hard to be away from home for so long?” asked Sam during the flight to get back home.

“It’s maybe my last mission with you guys, so I won’t complain,” Bucky had traded his uniform for civilian clothing. He was the first to be dropped home and although Shuri had managed to camouflage his arm as a flesh one, walking in the neighbourhood with a big A for Avengers wouldn’t help the three of you. “It was more difficult when (Y/N) was pregnant but she’s handling things superbly.”

“Isn’t it Becky’s birthday in a week?” Natasha casual tone was something Bucky had learnt to be suspicious of, so he simple nodded, waiting for the ex-KGB spy to tell him more. “How old is she going to be?”

“For her godmother it’s not a good sign that you can’t remember when she was born,” mocked Bucky. You had been the one choosing Natasha as Becky’s godmother because you knew Bucky would choose Steve as the godfather, it was the most obvious thing in the world. The moment you had learnt you were pregnant you had told him you were in charge of the godmother.

“We’re almost there, Buck.”

Being back home was the best feeling there was for Bucky. Steve landed far from the habitation, there no need to attract all of Buck’s neighbours with the quinjet, if you both had moved to the suburbs it was to have some peace and have a family of your own.

It didn’t take long for Bucky to arrive home. The simple sight of the front door filled him with joy. He stepped inside, throwing his backpack on the floor her could hear you talking to Rebecca while you were cooking. You had no yet heard him enter so quietly he made his way to you; you had your back turned to watch if your meat was burning. Once he was assured scaring you wouldn’t cause an accident, he wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed the back of your neck.

“Holy shhhhh…. iva,” you managed to keep your language appropriate for your three-year-old but you were so happy to see your husband it almost slipped of your mouth.

“Daddy!” Rebecca ran to her father. Bucky intercepted his daughter and spined her before tickling her. “Stop it daddy!” she laughed. “Stop it, stop it, stop it!”

“Are you giving me orders Rebecca Barnes?” the little girl frantically nodded. “Can you believe that?” Bucky turned to you but you were already laughing, siding with your child.

“Well, she’s the boss. I suggest you don’t bother her otherwise Miss Barnes might throw one of her famous tantrums,” you kissed the top of Becky’s head and the lips of your husband. “She misses you a lot. And I think I’m right when I say she’d rather play with her father than being tickled by him, am I right?”

“But, you’re a big girl. So I’m gonna make a deal with you. No tantrum and tomorrow we’ll spend the day together, sound good to you?” Becky wrapped her arms around her dad’s neck and yelled a big yes. “So it’s a deal. Now we let mommy make diner otherwise we’ll end up the same way as this poor chicken.”

“You’re damn right! Get out of my kitchen,” you used your spatula to gently spank Bucky’s ass. He turned around, sparks a mischief in his eyes. You knew if your daughter hadn’t been in the same room, you wouldn’t even have the time to run away.

The father and his daughter went to the living room where most of Becky’s toys were. She took a doll to tell the fantasied story of Auntie Nat or how a badass ballerina was fighting aliens before a representation of the Nutcracker. She tasked her father to play the sidekick slash prince because he too was a dancer and a superhero.

Diner was ready before the ballerina had the time to destroy the mothership, Becky tried to bargain for five more minutes but you ended the story on your own: the ballerina had previously put a time-bomb on the main engine and the mothership exploded while she was safe and sound on the ground performing the last act of the ballet. Happy with the story Rebecca gladly followed you to go eat. If getting her to eat was a challenge, then putting her to bed was the Olympics and Bucky always had the gold medal.

As he put his daughter to bed, he thought of the years he had lived since he knew you. The two of you met thanks because of were an old friend of Sam. You had loved his old fashion way of seducing you, he was so refreshing compared to the bunch of losers you had dated before. Then you had moved together in your apartment in New York but it hadn’t last long. Quickly you had started thinking about kids and you had found your house. Bucky had popped the question the day you would have remember as the worst of your life if this hadn’t happened. You had came home screaming and complaining about how everyone was trying to get you insane, then you had screamed after him because you couldn’t find him but when you had you were left speechless.

But four months later you had to postponed the wedding. You were pregnant and there was no way in Hell you would get married pregnant. Your dress was tailor-made, you preferred to wait nine months rather than asking to make your dress more fit for your pregnant belly. Bucky learnt of your pregnancy after you gave him on his birthday a stuffed bear similar to the one his uncle had bought for his birth with a bib saying Daddy’s Little Treasure. It took him one solid minute to realise what all of this meant. But he became a wonderful father, he helped you throughout your pregnancy whenever you he was around.

He had to admit you were the best wife he could have ask for. You were the only salary in this marriage for now, you worked your ass of to keep the family afloat and as a science teacher it was easy every day. You had never stopped working even pregnant. You had nearly given birth in your classroom if it had been for Natasha visiting you. bucky was the Avengers but you were the badass in this couple, let’s face it you married a former HYDRA assassin and bore a super soldier child for nine months without suffering from internal damage which worried everyone Bucky being the first one. Even if Rebecca shown no signs of the serum, she had been tested by Doctor Cho who had confirmed the strong presence of the serum within your daughter’s DNA.

“She’s sleeping,” Bucky sat next to you on the couch. “How was your day?”

“It was…” you sighed. You just wanted more time with your family. Bucky kept stroking your hair, he knew how calming it was for you. “I do twice the work other teachers do; I always work overtime but I’m not paid more! Maybe I should go work with Stark. What do you think about moving to California?”

“If you think you’ll be happier, then let’s move to California. But I got a job interview next week. If I’m taken you could stop overtime work and we’ll have more time the three of us. Would you like that?”

“I’m too tired to show it but that will be perfect.”

As you rested your head on your husband’s shoulder, loud bangs against your front door echoed in the house. At first you were clearly surprised but as the bangs continued you were more and more annoyed; Rebecca was a light sleeper and you didn’t want her to be awaken. Bucky got up to open the door. It was your closest neighbour: Emelia Jones. Her and her husband Edgar were living on the house on your left. She was covered in blood. You were quick to your feet and helped her sat on the nearest chair. She was speaking too fast for you to understand but you could see she needed time to clear her mind. Bucky brought her a glass of water.

“Emelia what happen?” you asked concerned.

“Edgar…my poor Edgar. I don’t know what happen, one minute we’re watching Jeopardy and the next minute he’s attacking me. Look! He bit me!” a part of flesh was missing in her left forearm.

“Oh my god! Bucky look! We have bandages upstairs I’ll fetch them and see if Becky’s still asleep. If this hadn’t wake her up it’s a miracle. Stay with her.”

Bucky watched you take the stairs. How many times had you taken care of his own wounds? He had lost count but right now you were the most qualified to take care of Emelia. His attention was brought back of the old lady when she started coughing again. He took the glass to fill it up again but realise she was coughing blood. Cautious he approached the elderly. He put his right hand on her shoulder and before she could even think of taking it, he hit her with his vibranium arm. Emelia let an animalistic growl left her mouth. Her eyes were bloodied and veins covered her face but the most shocking feature was the strength she had.

It was by pure instinct that made Bucky took a kitchen knife and sliced her throat but it did nothing. Emelia kept trying to bite him, fortunately she was targeting his left arm but she managed to take the knife off his hand. She pinned him on the floor, her teeth at mere inches of his face. Another kind of bang resounded in the house and Emelia’s head exploded. Bucky turned his head towards the stairs where you were, a gun in one hand and bandages in the other.

“You saw what happen, right? I’m not crazy,” gently Bucky took the gun off your hand. “What the fuck happened?”

“I’ve seen enough movies to be sure that... that this was a zombie! Look, I know it’s not possible but…”

“Honey we are attacked by alien every two years; nothing is impossible anymore.”

“Buck, if she’s a zombie, it might be because of her husband. If she had let the door open who knows what Edgar could do.”

“You stay here. You sealed every doors and windows in the house. You do not open to anyone unless it’s me and you stay with Rebecca. If anything happen you know where my guns are and I know I can trust you with them. I’ll go check if Edgar hasn’t gone too far and if he’s like his wife, if he is… well I’ll take care of it.”

You exchanged what felt like a last kiss, you wanted to tell him how much you love him but he refused to hear it otherwise it would feel like you’ll never see each other again. You open your mouth to say something but he shut you up with a kiss.

“Don’t worry, nothing is going to happen. We’ll see each other in no time. I promise you.”

As soon as Bucky was outside, he heard you locked the door and the roller shutters being activated. The Jones’ house was five minutes away from your home but already he felt something was wrong. The street was quiet, too quiet. And the same went for the Jones home. Bucky heard no TV or beastly growls identical to those of Emelia’s. He entered the house and saw how messy the confrontation between Emelia and Edgar had been.

He was in the garden when he finally heard the growls. It was Edgar, but not only. A man he had never seen before was accompanying the elder man. If he had to believe all those movies with zombies you had made him watch the best way to get ride of them was to shot their brain. It works for the young but Edgar had tackled Bucky on the ground. He had tried twice to put the gun in the right angle to shoot the old man but the easiest way to have the upper hand was to punch Edgar with his left arm until the zombie let go of his grip on him. The horror of the situation struck Bucky as he saw his neighbour in such shape.

His legs had a mind of their own, he had only one thing in his mind: getting back to you and your daughter. He heard a scream coming from your house. He yelled your name at the top of his lungs oblivious to the fact that the scream sounded nothing like your voice or a baby’s scream. Bucky had just witnessed his quiet, seventy-year-old neighbour eat a police officer before attacking him with the strength of a young man. Poor Edgar, Bucky had never intended to smash his head against the wall but he had left him no choice.

Bucky entered his house to find blood on the walls, corpses on the floor and furniture smashed here and there. He called your name yet again but silence was his only answer. His first instinct was to check if you hadn’t hide in the basement or the attic, the basement had a secret passage leading to the sewer and the attic permitted to go to the roof then to the garage to take one of your cars. It was precaution he had taken in case of HYDRA has the stupid idea to take you and your daughter away from him. He just wanted to be prepared but he had never thought those passages would be use during a zombie outbreak.

You were nowhere to be found. The nursery was untouched, just like you had left it after tidied it. The same goes for your bedroom, nothing had been moved hence you either had no time to pick up things before leaving the place or you had a chance to escape, you took it but didn’t think of taking anything. Or you were…no! He refused to think of that. If he couldn’t find you it was simply because you were gone to some place safe. Yes, you were clever, he had no doubt you had found a solution for you and your baby girl, he had to trust your guts.

That’s was before he found a piece of paper, bloodied and torn but he couldn’t mistake the handwriting for someone else’s than yours. There was two simple words Find us. The end of your “s” showed him that you had written the note in a hurry and had to leave quickly.

“I’ll find you. Believe me, we’ll be reunited again.”

Taglist: @ginger-swag-rapunzel

(find the taglist here -> ♥)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #zombie au #mcu imagine

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randomrosewrites · 4 years

Text

An eternity more

AO3

A special Alastor x reader fic just in time for Halloween!

Word count: 2000

Warnings: Mild language

Summary: Alastor and his partner celebrate Halloween.

In Hell, there was one day a year in which the usual brutality and gore that occurred was not only just commonplace, but treated as a festivity.

Halloween. Sometimes referred to as Hallow’s eve, or Samhain.

Every circle always had some type of event going on. Violence had fighting matches all throughout the day. Gluttony had haunted house walks and tours in their suicide forests. Even unpopular circles like Limbo got into the Halloween spirit by having small carvals pop up here and there.

For the denizens of Hell, Halloween was a day where every sicko, nutjob, and crazy could find something that tickled their fancy.

On a night of such horrors, many people expected that of the Radio Demon to be doing something horribly violent; Engaged in some form of terrorism or inspiring fear into the masses via one of his broadcast.

Instead, though-

“Darling! Look over here, they’ve got handmade masks!” Alastor says to you, excitedly dragging you along the streets of Pentagram city.

-he’s quite the opposite

While Alastor was more than happy to spend his nights prowling the streets and seeing the fear ignite in people’s eyes, he enjoyed other things besides that. He wasn’t entirely diabolical. Why go around causing chaos like some petty ruffian when there were other superior activities to engage in?

Tonight, as you walk the streets alongside him, the city is busier than ever. The night sky is stained a dark garnet and the cold air makes you snuggle closer into your coat. Pedestrians pack together in the streets, a huge mass of limbs and bodies.

Vendors and shops have their doors wide open, showing off their merchandise or advertising for one thing or another. There’s food stalls, costume shops, drug vending machines, antique stores, and the like. Alastor zig zags from stall to stall, checking out every and anything that catches his eye.

His own usual outfit is changed for the event, instead of the normal red he’s changed into a dark burgundy, so dark it almost looks brown. One of his red-gloved hands holds yours, dragging you along with him. You have to nearly run to keep up with his long strides.

He comes to a stop, the action so sudden you bump into him.

“Ow - why’d you stop-”

You look at the building you’ve stopped in front of. A bright neon sign reads ‘The House of Haunted Horrors’

A bloody haunted house.

Alastor looks at you, excitement shining in his eyes. “Shall we go in?”

“Al, you know I get scared easily-”

“Great!” he says before you can finish, dragging you through along with him into the entrance.

“No, wait! - Oh my god no Alastor, Alastor!” you protest to no avail.

After a brief talk with the receptionist, (who’s eyes nearly bulged out of their skull when they saw him) you’re ushered into another room where the attraction begins.

The employee tells you the backstory for the situation. You’re a scientist trapped in an underground laboratory where demons were experimented on. After a sudden outbreak has cut off all power and communication, you’ve got to find the exit before the creatures in the dark can get to you first.

You’re utterly horrified. Alastor’s delighted.

She hands you each a flashlight and wishes you good luck before closing the door and leaving you to begin.

“Well, let’s get going, shall we?” Alastor takes your hand (Which you cling onto tightly), flicking on his flashlight and starting down the hallway.

The hallway is dark and grimy. The flashlight can’t shine very far so you can only see whats a few feet ahead of you at a time. Your footsteps echo through the eerily quiet corridor. The only sound is of your tense breathing and your heartbeat in your ears.

“I hate this, I hate this-” you groan, latching yourself onto Alastor’s side and burying your face in his coat.

“Don’t worry darling, it’ll be fun!” he reassures you, patting you on the back. It’s at that moment that a hollow groan rings through the hallway, making your entire body tense.

“Oh fuck - I hate this, I hate this-” you hiss.

“What about this do you hate?” Alastor asks, keeping one arm around you and one on the flashlight. “The dark? The feeling of not knowing what lies ahead? The weight of-”

“Al,” you snap. “Not. Helping.”

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Apologies. I couldn’t help myself. Fear is a wonderful emotion on you, dear.”

Though for as much as he teases you, you can by the way he keeps a firm grip on you and the whispered assurances he utters periodically that he does care about you. You also know he wouldn’t hesitate to get you out of there if you truly were terrified.

The two of you explore different hallways and rooms, slowly making your way through the attraction. You pass by corpses (that you hope are just fake) covered in blood, scratch marks on the walls ripping up the wallpaper, dismembered limbs, empty cages and cells, and other grotesque, creepy sights.

In one room, you open the door to see a stuffed bear sitting on a chair in the far corner. When you enter and explore the room, you look back to find that the beat has moved towards you.

Yeah, no.

“Fuck this, fuck this, fuck this-” You run out of there as fast as possible, slamming the door behind you. Alastor laughs at your reaction, jogging to catch up to you.

You continue further into the attraction. Occasionally a gust of wind or a nearby whisper will make you whip around and press closer to Alastor, heart hammering in your chest, but you’ve seen no actors yet. Are there any? Or have they all been scared into immobilization?

You’ve just about let your guard down when you open the door to the next room and are met with a looming, black figure standing in the corridor.

They’re tall, much taller than you, with long black limbs and two glowing eyes. You’re so surprised at the creature’s sudden appearance that you don’t even think to scream. From the mass of black, a cavern opens up - its mouth - emitting a hisss sound. When the figure reaches out towards you, your mind goes blank with terror.

Behind you, you can feel Alastor’s form shift.

One note about Alasotr’s demon form - you’d seen it hundreds of times before. You’d seen his pupils go black, seen him stretch until he was a tall, lanky stick figure with teeth that took up half of his face more times than you can count.

A lot of things might scare you, but Alastor doesn’t.

But it definitely scares the worker. He drops his act, taking off into the darkness like his life depended on it.

When you look at Alastor again, he’s returned to normal. He has the same smile on his face, but he seems slightly disappointed.

“How pitiable.” he murmurs, before saying to you in a much lighter tone. “Shall we continue?”

There’s little else to the haunted house. A few more creepy sounds and flashes of moving figures from the corner of your eyes, but nothing else quite like the cryptid in the doorway.

When you finally do exit into the noisy streets of the city, you breathe and sigh of relief.

“That was quite charming, yes it was!” Alastor chirps. “It could have been more frightening but all-in-all, it was quite entertaining. Don’t you think so too, dear?”

You clutch his suit under your bloodless knuckles. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Alastor gives a hearty laugh, giving you a reassuring rub of his arm. “You did very well.”

As you leave, you spot some of the employees from the haunted house. Their costumes are half-off and they’re hugging the wall of the building, warily regarding the Radio Demon, looking utterly terrified - even more scared than you ever were.

And for a second, you agree with Alastor - fear is a wonderful emotion.

---

By the time you return home to your quiet home outside of the city, it’s almost midnight. Alastor makes the two of you supper and you eat it by the fireplace, the bright flames casting off every shadow in the room.

“Did you enjoy yourself today, darling?” He asks after a few minutes into the conversation. He’s changed into a casual sweater and vest. It isn’t anything groundbreaking, but the outfit is so fitting and looks so good on him that you can’t help but stare.

“I did,” you say, then with a bit of salt- “Even though you forced me to go into that haunted house.”

“Yes, but it was fun, was it not?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” you admit. “But that’s probably because you were there with me.”

“Wonderful! I felt as though the actors could have been more adequate. Back in my day, even the worst of performers could do a better job than those buffoons.”

You take a bite of your food, hiding a smile. “I think you’re the reason they were so scared, Al. After you shifted into your true demon form and scared them, no one else dared to try and piss you off.”

“But I wasn’t trying to frighten them off entirely!” he whines. “What kind of a person goes around scaring people for their occupation but can’t handle a little intimidation?”

“People are scared of you, love.”

His nose wrinkles. “That I am more than aware of,” his expression softens. “But you aren’t.”

“No,” you reach across the table to squeeze his hand. “I’m not.”

The conversations steers elsewhere and the two of you finish dinner. After the dishes are done, you coax Alastor into joining you on the couch. You lay on top of him, pressing your ear to his chest. Your fingers rub against the soft cotton of Alastor’s sweater, drawing patterns on the material.

“Do you like my clothes?” He asks. Not accusatory or demanding, simply curious.

“Yes,” you slide your fingers up to play with the collar of his shirt. “Very much so.”

“Then by all means, play to your heart's content.” His hands go to your waist, sliding his thumb underneath your shirt to rub at your hip.

You hiss. “Your fingers are cold.”

“Apologies,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “I can’t help it.”

He always ran a cooler temperature, no matter what. He was like a cold-blooded lizard, always leaching off of your warmth whenever he could. His favourite thing to do was to slip his cold hands along your neck when you weren’t expecting it, just to hear the noise that would come out of you.

Your hand trails up, along his neck, over his jaw, and rubbing against his lip. He carefully nibbles on one of your fingertips, staring at you intensely. His teeth clamp down not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough so that you feel the pressure from them.

“Beautiful…” you breathe. His hand slides up your back, running along your spine.

Your free hand travels further upwards, nesting in his hair. The tips of your fingers stroke against the firm cartilage of his ear and he inhales sharply, ears folding to his skull.

You hesitate. The ears slowly rise again.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask.

“No…” he whispers, releasing your finger from his mouth.“You can keep going. Just unused to it…”

Carefully, gently, you rub his ears. They’re quite soft, but also quite delicate so you’re careful not to overwhelm him. A hum emerges from Alastor’s throat, vibrating through your body. He’s tense at first, taught like a bow string, but over time he relaxes, melting into the couch.

His hands seek out the small crevices in your body as well, your sides, your shoulders, your neck. A few times he has to seek the solace of your neck, whining and nipping kisses underneath your ear.

Touching each other, exploring the way you each react to touches, giving soft affections - It doesn’t go farther past that, but none of you are seeking anything else from it. Every touch is for no greater reason other than it simply feels good.

You let the time pass. It’s impossible to tell how long exactly, but it’s a while before you’re both satisfied. You wrap your arms around his torso and press your face into his shirt. He smells like rich wood and strong spices. Most of all, he smells fresh. There’s simply no other way to describe it.

“I wish we could stay like this every night,” you sigh, “Tonight...and the next night..”

Alastor kisses the top of your head. “And then the next night...and the next...and the one after that, too…”

You lift your head to kiss him on the lips. “And for an eternity more.” His eyes flutter wide open, blinking just like a dazed dear. You want to giggle with how cute it is.

His expression melts into one of pure bliss, red eyes hazily gazing into yours. He chuckles, kissing the tip of your nose. “And for an eternity more.”

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor imagines #fluff #halloween

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iamtrebleclefstories · 4 years

Text

maybe it’s wrong to say I love you - part two

Part Two: Home

people I’ve loved, I’ve had no regrets... some I remember, some I forget...

So... this monstrosity of a fic was supposed to be a miniseries, but it’s obviously evolved into this giant. Hope you enjoy it and let me know what think and what you hope to see next!

If you haven’t read Part One, you can find it here!

p.s - You might wanna get the tissues out for this one

TW: Mentions of suicide, self-harm, and abuse

Part Two: Home

-Wish I were with you, but I couldn't stay-

-Every direction leads me away-

Leaving Seattle was probably one of the most difficult decisions Jo had ever made. And that was coming from someone who’d lived through some really crappy things in her twenty-eight years of life. When she turned her resignation into Webber, he did everything in his power to get her to stick around. He pointed out that it was kind of ridiculous to just up and leave one of the best residency programs in the country because of a guy. Normally, she’d agree. She’s worked way too damn hard in her life for it to come to this. But Alex wasn’t just a guy. He was her person. He was her family. And sometimes you needed to sacrifice things in order to keep your family safe and happy.

When Webber realized that Jo was not going to change her mind about moving, he offered to put her in contact with an old colleague who was the chief of surgery at a hospital on the east coast. That’s how she ended up on a six and a half hour flight from Seattle to Florida. She started working at the Jacksonville branch of Mayo Clinic about a week later.

It was different. Very different from Seattle. It was hot and humid all the time. Sure the beaches were nice, but Jo didn’t think she’d ever lived somewhere so unbearably hot in her entire life. Something that was nice though was the rain. Because even though Florida was nicknamed the Sunshine State, she felt like it was constantly raining. It reminded her of Seattle. It reminded her of home.

Months passed and Jo felt like she was finally starting to heal, albeit very slowly. But she was healing nonetheless. She could go an entire day without even thinking about Alex Karev and how he was probably living it up with his wife. Sure, those days also just so happened to be days where Jo literally did not have the time to think of him, but she was grateful for the slight reprieve that work had given her over the constant influx of painful memories.

By the time the end of her third year of residency was coming to a close, she thought she’d finally done it. She made it an entire week without crying over Alex and everything that they had lost. She was proud of herself. So proud, that she thought maybe she could try to move on and start dating again.

She was on her first date post-Alex when she saw the news on the bar television. Mass shooting at Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital in Seattle, Washington. Multiple lives lost, many injured, including some of the doctors and staff.

Jo felt absolutely sick to her stomach. She excused herself from her date and rushed back over to her apartment and searched for the little black book where she’d written down the phone numbers of all her friends before throwing out her old phone and getting a new number. She found it and shakily dialed the first number she saw—Meredith’s—and prayed that someone on the other line would answer.

“Hello?” A tired voice croaked.

“Mer?”

“Jo? Is that you?”

Jo let out a sigh of relief, “Oh my God. I saw the news. Are you okay? Is everyone okay?” There was a sob on the other end of the line, making Jo’s heart beat wildly against her chest. “Meredith, what happened?”

“It was horrible,” Meredith cried, her sniffles being heard from Jo’s end of the call. Jo waited patiently for Meredith to calm herself enough to inform her of what happened. “Today was the worst day of my life.”

“Did anyone we know—“

“Yes,” Meredith stated quietly. “Derek was shot in the heart and almost died. Cristina saved him, though. The doctors are optimistic. Owen got shot in the arm. I lost my baby—“

“You were pregnant?” Jo’s eyes began to water.

“Yeah,” Meredith whimpered. “I had a miscarriage today.”

“Mer, I’m so sorry,” Jo felt a couple tears escape her eyes. “What about everyone else?”

“Bailey watched someone die in her arms,” Meredith shared. “His name was Charles. He was a resident. He was new, but not so bad. This other girl named Reed died. So did a couple nurses and security guards. No kids, though. Lexie is okay. Mark is okay. Arizona and Callie are okay.”

“Mer, you haven’t said anything about Alex. Why aren’t you saying anything about Alex?” Jo’s heart hammered inside her rib cage. There was silence coming from Meredith’s side of the call. “Meredith. Please. Tell me he isn’t dead.”

“He isn’t dead,” Meredith stated. “But I’m not completely sure he’s going to live.”

Jo heard the sob before she registered it was hers, “What happened?”

“He was shot in the chest,” Meredith’s voice quivered a bit. “Lexie and Mark found him, but by the time they found him he’d already lost so much blood. They put in a chest tube and tried to do as much as they could in the conference room on the fourth floor. But he hasn’t woken up yet. Someone needs to make some decisions regarding his care. The bullet ripped through his lung. They need to figure out whether they’re gonna take him back into surgery or just hope he makes it through the night.”

“Oh God,” Jo felt the tears stream down her face. She took a couple deep breaths. “Okay. Okay. What’s Izzie going to have them do?”

“Jo, Izzie isn’t the one who’s going to make those decisions,” Meredith said cautiously.

“What do you mean? She’s his wife isn’t she? What is she going to have them do?”

“You don’t know?” Meredith asked.

“Don’t know what?” Jo shook her head. She couldn’t figure out why Meredith sounded so weird.

“Um, nothing… it’s just… we were looking at Alex’s medical forms and you’re Alex’s power of attorney.”

“What?” Jo’s eyes widened. “Why me? Why not Izzie?”

“I guess he trusted that you’d make the right decisions,” Meredith paused. “You don’t have to come. I know it might be too hard for you.”

“No. No, I’ll come,” Jo decided and began to quickly pack an overnight bag. “I’m coming right now.”

Less than ten hours later, Jo was standing outside of Alex’s hospital room standing next to Meredith and Cristina as she spoke to the doctors about Alex’s health. After deciding the best course of treatment, Jo turned to look at her friends, “Where is Izzie?”

The two women exchanged a look. Cristina let out a sigh, “She’s visiting her mom. I don’t know if she knows.”

“Oh,” Jo nodded. “Maybe it’s better if she doesn’t see him like this.”

“Jo, you know that Izzie and Alex got—“Meredith started, quickly being interrupted by Jo.

“No, you know what? I don’t need to know,” Jo shook her head. “The one thing that coming here has taught me is that I’m still in love with him and that means I can’t be here. I can’t hear about his relationship with Izzie. Not today at least. Maybe in a few years when I’m over him and I don’t cry at the thought of him being with someone else, but not today.”

“But Jo, they’re—“ Cristina tried to get a word in.

“No. It’s okay,” Jo stuck her hand out, signaling Cristina to stop talking. “I did what I had to do and I’m going back. Don’t tell him that I was here or that you have my phone number. Please. I love you guys, but I need to leave.”

Her friends nodded and wrapped her in an uncharacteristic hug. Mer whispered in her ear, “Be safe. We’ll keep in touch.”

“Goodbye.”

————

-Just looking for shelter from the cold and the pain-

-Someone to cover, safe from the rain-

Jo kept in contact with Meredith. The months following the shooting were difficult ones and Jo would often hear her phone ringing as Meredith called or texted her various updates regarding everyone’s lives. Everyone except Alex’s life. Jo was clear that she didn’t want to know what was going on in his life and perfect marriage with Izzie other than the fact that he was doing okay and thinking about specializing in peds apparently.

She was about four or five months into her fourth year of residency when Jo was given an invitation to attend a medical conference in Orlando. Jo called Meredith immediately after and suggested she take a few days off to come attend the conference with her.

“Jo I’d love to. Let me talk to the chief and see if I can get a few days off to visit you,” Meredith replied.

About a week and a half later, Jo was picking Meredith up at the Orlando International Airport, “Mer!”

“Jo!” The women embraced and Jo helped Meredith stuff her bags into the trunk of the car as they drove over to the hotel where the conference was being held.

“How are you? How is everyone?” Jo asked.

“We’re getting there. Things still aren’t as good as they could be,” Meredith shrugged. “Cristina got married.”

“She what?” Jo’s eyes widened. “To Hunt?”

“Yup,” Meredith nodded. “She isn’t doing surgery right now either. I tried to convince her to come with me, but she wouldn’t listen.”

Jo sighed, “I wish I could see her and literally slap some sense into her.”

“You might be the only person who’d be successful at getting her to feel something,” Meredith chuckled. “It’s not the same without you there, Jo. Everything is so… boring and dull.”

“Boring and dull might just be the last thing you call Seattle Grace,” Jo wrinkled her face in amusement. “Especially since Mark Sloan got Callie pregnant. Poor Lexie.”

“I know,” Meredith shook her head. She stood quiet for a moment before speaking. “Don’t you ever miss it? Home?”

“Every day,” Jo answered. “Sure, I have some acquaintances, but it isn’t the same.”

“So why don’t you come back?”

“You know why,” Jo gave Meredith a pointed look.

“But the reasons--”

“Mer, stop. I told you I don’t want to know about him and Izzie,” Jo shook her head.

“If you’d just let me talk you’d find out that things aren’t as perfect as you think they are,” Meredith crossed her arms.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jo took a deep breath. “No one, in the history of my life has ever loved me and hurt me more than Alex. And if I want to keep loving him and not hating him for making me love him, then I can't know about his personal life. I can’t.”

“Okay. We won’t talk about Alex anymore,” Meredith sighed. What she’d been trying to tell Jo was that Alex and Izzie had gotten divorced over a year ago and in an effort to cover the pain of losing the two women he loved, he’d reverted back to his days as a diseased man-whore. But Jo wasn’t having it.

The first two days of the conference were fun and informative. Jo and Meredith used the time they weren’t in sessions to get some much needed rest. The third day of the conference Jo and Meredith were getting ready to walk in when Jo saw him. She knew immediately who it was as soon as she saw the back of his head. She’d never forget that man as long as she lived.

Meredith must’ve realized how Jo went pale and started to tremble because she placed her hand lightly on Jo’s arm in concern, “Jo. Are you feeling okay? What’s wrong?”

“I⎯I have to get out of here,” Jo grasped Meredith’s arm tightly. “Mer, I need you to get me out of here right now.”

“Okay,” Meredith pulled Jo out of the hotel conference room and into the lobby where Jo finally let out a cry, startling Meredith. “Jo, what’s going on? I need you to talk to me.”

Jo had begun hyperventilating at some point and was struggling to catch her breath as she saw his name on the speaker schedule for the day on the poster outside of conference room doors. She didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed it before. She didn’t know how she could’ve missed it. Why was he here? Had he found her? Did he know she was in Florida?

“Jo!”

“Huh?” Jo turned to Meredith with scared eyes.

“Jo, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. You begged me to get you out of that room. What happened?”

“I⎯I’m married.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m married to a man who almost beat me to death. I ran away from him eight years ago and never divorced him because I was afraid he’d come find me and kill me,” Jo shared, body shaking in fear.

“Does Alex know?” Meredith asked, brows furrowed.

“He’s the only person I’ve ever told,” Jo nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “He knows everything. About Paul, the abortion, how I ran away and changed my name. Jo Wilson isn't even my real name.”

Meredith wrapped Jo in a tight hug, “You’re okay. I’m here and I’m not leaving you alone. Not for one second.”

They found out that Paul lived in Florida, Orlando, specifically and had been working at Orlando Medical Group for the past five years. He was a speaker at the conference and would be giving a presentation on minimally invasive surgery techniques. They’d been in their hotel room for a few minutes when Jo finally spoke again.

“Meredith, what if he sees me? What if he comes to hurt me?” Fear etched on Jo’s face. “He’s here. He’s here and I don’t even have Al—I don’t have anyone.”

“Do you want me to call him?”

“No.”

“Jo, let me call him. Please,” Meredith squeezed one of Jo’s hands. “He’s going to want to be here with you. He misses you. He still loves you.”

“Meredith, stop,” Jo looked up at the ceiling. “If Alex were here he’d just do something stupid and get himself killed or wind up in jail or the hospital and I refuse to put him through that.”

“Okay,” Meredith sighed. “But you are not alone. You have me and we’re going to find a great lawyer who’s going to get you a restraining order and a divorce, because no one should be tied to a man like that. And I will stay here as long as I need to, to make that happen.”

——————

-The echoes and silence, patience and grace-

-All of these moments I'll never replace-

Realistically, Meredith couldn’t stay with Jo the entire time it would take her to process her divorce. The next few months after submitting the request for the dissolution of marriage were full of Jo looking over her shoulder practically every minute of every day.

It was on a Tuesday in February when it happened. She’s just got out of a surgery with Dr. Baker, their chief of surgery when she heard the most chilling sound.

“Hi Brooke. Or should I say Jo? It is Jo now, isn’t it?”

Jo turned around slowly to face him, eyes flitting over to Dr. Baker who seemed to be watching with concern, “Paul. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know, just checking up on my wife,” Paul sneered. “A wife I had not seen in eight years, so imagine my surprise when my lawyer presented me with divorce papers that my wife had filed not long before and that a court date has been set a month from today.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Jo glared at him. “I have a restraining order. It’s all supposed to go through the courts. We aren’t supposed to have any contact with each other.”

“I know,” Paul flashed her a disarming smile. “I just couldn’t resist coming to pay you a visit. Especially when I found out that you were living in the same state.”

“You need to leave before I call security,” Jo stood her ground. “You are not supposed to be anywhere near me, so you need to leave and go home.”

“No… you know, I don’t think I will,” Paul answered, his menacing grin sending her heart beating wildly. “I think I’ll stick around and—“

“Is there a problem here?” Dr. Baker stood behind Paul, arms crossed as he took in the man’s tall frame.

“No sir there’s no—“

“Yes,” Jo looked at Dr. Baker and nodded. “Yes there is a problem. This man is my husband whom I am in the process of divorcing. I have a restraining order on him and he is not allowed to be within a thousand feet of me.”

“Sir, I am going to need you to leave the premises immediately,” Dr. Baker pointed towards the exit. “Remove yourself or you shall be removed. And if I hear or see that you are anywhere on or near hospital grounds, I will not hesitate to call security.”

“Fine. I’ll leave,” Paul sent Jo an angry scowl. “But just so you know, you better watch your back. I have no plans on making this easy for you. I’ll see you in court.”

Jo watched as Paul walked out of the hospital and waited until he was out of sight before crumbling onto the floor. Dr. Baker kneeled down beside her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Is there anyone you like me to call for you? I know you used to work with Dr. Webber in Seattle. Would you like me to call him?”

“No,” Jo shook her head. “No it’s okay. I’ll be okay. I can take care of myself.”

“Wilson,” Dr. Baker’s stern voice warned. “You should not be doing this alone. And you definitely should not be staying in your apartment alone. If you aren’t going to call anyone to come be with you, then you should let us help you. Why don’t you stay with my wife and I for a few days until we know he’s gone?”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t be,” Dr. Baker shook his head. The older gentleman was not taking no for an answer. “Stay with Lisa and I. Just for a few days. Until Friday.”

Jo sighed, “Okay, fine. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Dr. Baker squeezed her shoulder lightly. “I’ll have my assistant give you my address so you can head over there as soon as your shift is over today.”

Jo thanked him again and watched as her chief walked away, leaving her in the hallway alone. Jo searched around for the nearest on-call room and reached into her pocket for her phone, dialing a number as soon as she walked inside.

“Hello?”

“Mer?”

“Jo? Hi. What’s going on?” Meredith answered, the sound of the hospital buzzing in the background.

“He came, Meredith. My husband? He came and found me. He was here. He came to the hospital,” Jo felt her body shake as she recounted the day’s events.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Meredith asked frantically.

“No he didn’t hurt me. But he threatened me. I think,” Jo shrugged.

“What do you mean you think he threatened you? Jo, he’s not even supposed to be within a thousand feet of you. We made sure of that.”

“He told me to watch my back. He said he wasn’t going to make this easy for me,” Jo sniffled and wiped a couple straying tears.

“Jo, I think it’s time to tell Alex.”

“No. No, Mer we can’t tell him. He doesn't deserve to get caught up in my mess. It’s my mess. I’ll deal with it.”

“Don’t be stupid. Don’t play the martyr.”

“This isn’t about me playing a martyr Mer,” Jo huffed.

“Then what is it? Because I’m not understanding.”

“He didn’t choose me!” Jo exclaimed. “That day he told me that he was going to marry Izzie, I told him that I’d do it. I’d divorce Paul. If he wanted to be committed, if he wanted to be married, that I’d get a divorce. Even though I was terrified of this exact thing happening, I was willing to do it for him. I was willing to put it all on the line to just be with him and he still chose her. He chose Izzie. And I can’t get over that Mer. I can’t get over the fact that the one person that I love more than anything in this world, saw that I was willing to give it all up for him, and still didn’t choose me.”

“Derek chose Addison, and now look. Addison is in LA and Derek and I are married.”

“That’s not the same and you know it,” Jo sighed, a few tears escaping her eyes. “Derek was married before you two met and fell in love. Addison cheated on him with his best friend. He chose her out of commitment and loyalty to his marriage. Alex didn’t do that. Alex chose Izzie because he wanted to, knowing that he had the option of marrying me. After promising me over and over again for the better part of a year that he’d wait for me and telling me that he loved me and only wanted to be with me. It’s different.”

“Is it though?” Meredith asked. “Because at the end of the day, both of them chose women they didn’t truly love. And both of them suffered because of it.” There was silence on the other line for a moment before Meredith spoke up again, “Look, at the end of the day it’s your decision. But I think you should know that he still talks about you. At the most random moments, too. They’ll serve hotdogs in the cafeteria and he’ll comment how you hated the hotdogs they’d serve. Or we’ll be passing by a patient and their family and he’ll mention how you used to have the same scarf as the woman in the group. Or when he’s talking to a kid and they tell him that their favorite color is blue, he’ll say ‘that’s my best friend’s favorite color too.’ Not a day goes by where he doesn’t think of you, Jo. Just think about it.”

“We’ll see,” Jo let out a breath. “I need to get back to work. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright. Please be safe, Jo. Goodbye.”

After hanging up the phone, Jo buried herself in her work until it was time to leave. She drove over to Chief Baker’s house and was welcomed in with open arms and a hot meal on the stove. The few days she stood there were nice. Dr. and Mrs. Baker had been married for thirty-seven years and had two children and five grandchildren. Mrs. Baker—who insisted on being called Lisa—was actually a nurse practitioner that had tons of experience working with ICU and CCU patients.

For the first time in a long time, Jo felt like she had people. The Baker residence was warm and welcoming and nothing like the many homes she grew up in as a child. The Bakers cared. Maybe that’s why she found herself opening up to them about her past and why she was hiding from Paul in the first place. Along with their help and some digging done by their daughter who was a private detective, Jo was able to find enough information on Paul to give her lawyer to put together a strong case that would ensure that Jo was granted all of the conditions of the divorce she sought after, mainly that Paul would not be able come near her and hurt her after the trial was over.

On the day of the trial, Jo was absolutely terrified. She was about to confront her abuser in court and did not know how to handle the nerves coursing through her. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to cry and run away and never look back. She wanted to change her name again so that Paul would never be able to find her.

But that was the easy way out. She’s done enough running in her life to know that fleeing never truly solved anything either. It only made things painful. Still, Jo couldn’t shake the nerves she was feeling coursing through her. For the first time since this process began, she cursed her stubbornness for making her feel like she had to go through this alone.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jo spotted something that caught her attention. It was an old pay phone, much like ones that she hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. Jo walked up to it and searched around her purse for some coins to get the phone to start. As soon as it did, she found herself punching in the phone number she knew so well and waited as it dialed.

“Hello?”

Jo let out the tiniest sob, “Alex.”

“Jo? Jo! Oh my God, is that you? Are you okay? Are you crying? What’s wrong?”

Jo’s sobs grew louder and stronger as she heard his worried voice on the other line.

“Jo, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Where are you? Do you need me to come get you?”

Jo placed a hand over her mouth and attempted to quiet her cries, “No, I’m okay. I just… I really needed to hear your voice... I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Alex breathed out. Even though she couldn’t see him, Jo could picture Alex’s face scrunched in sadness and worry. “Please come home.”

“I can’t,” Jo shook her head. “I, um, I’m doing something today. Something that I probably should’ve done a long time ago. I almost chickened out, too. But, I know I need to be brave. And I need to be strong. Anyway, I just wanted to hear your voice one last time before I go through it. You make me brave.”

“Go through with what? Jo, don’t do anything stupid. Please. I know I hurt you and I probably don’t deserve your forgiveness, but please, I need you safe. Wherever you are. So, if you’re gonna⎯”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you wanted me to be,” Jo felt a few tears run down her face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you needed back then.”

“All I needed was you. That’s still all I need.”

“I wish that were true,” Jo whispered and wiped her face. “You probably won’t hear from me after this. I wish things were different, but they’re not.” She paused. “I love you. Goodbye.”

Jo hung up the phone quickly and took a deep breath, running her sweaty palms along the skirt of her dress in hopes of calming some of her nerves. She knew now what she had to do. She had to step into that courthouse and break things off with Paul once and for all.

Back in Seattle, Alex was pacing frantically in the resident’s lounge, trying to call her back only to find out that the number she’d called from was a payphone.

“Dammit!” Alex yelled and punched a wall. It had been almost two years since he’d spoken to Jo. Two years of wondering and worrying if he’d ever see her again, only to hear her voice on the other line of a pay phone for about thirty seconds. Alex sunk down onto the floor in the corner of the lounge and ran his hands over his face, trying to conceal the tears that were slowly falling down his cheeks. “Dammit. Dammit.”

“Alex?”

The voice startled him, causing him to look up at the source. Cristina was hovering over him with a concerned expression on her face. “What the hell is going on?”

Alex shook his head and wiped angrily at the tears, “Jo called me.”

“Jo? Jo called you?” Cristina raised her eyebrows. “Is she okay?”

“She was crying,” Alex trembled slightly at the thought of the conversation he’d just had. “She said that she was doing something today, but she wasn’t sure if she should go through with it and she wanted to hear my voice one last time before she made her decision. She told me she loved me and that I probably won’t hear from her again, then she hung up. I tried to call her back but she called me from a freaking pay phone, Yang. Who the hell uses a pay phone these days?”

Cristina stood silent and sat down beside Alex, waiting for him to say what he needed to say. After a minute, he spoke again, “I just keep getting these horrifying scenarios in my head. She said she wanted to hear my voice one last time… and all I can think is, what if she’s going to hurt herself? What if she's going to hurt herself right now and I’m not there to stop her? She’s done it before. She told me she almost ended it all, once when she was back in college. When she was with… but she chickened out and didn’t do it. I swear to God, Cristina, if she dies… I don’t know what I’d do.”

“She’s not going to die,” Cristina shook her head. “She can’t die. I’ve lost too many friends. She isn’t allowed to die.”

“This is all my fault.”

“No it’s not,” Cristina squeezed his knee. “You aren’t responsible for the decisions other people make.”

“This time it is though,” Alex bit his lip as he looked out into the empty lounge. “I’m such an idiot. I love her. I still love her… I always screw myself out of everything good.”

“You’ll find each other one day. You’ll see her again and be together and be happy. I have to believe that,” Cristina sighed. “Now get up off the floor and wipe your face. You’ll scare the kids.”

————

-Pray for tomorrow, but for today-

-All I want-

-Is to be home-

After Jo’s divorce was finalized and the legal protections were put in place, she considered returning to Seattle. For the first time in almost a decade, she was finally free to do as she pleased. To live her life without the fear that Paul still had the upper hand. Because he didn’t have the power anymore. She’d made sure of that. In her quest to gain her divorce, Jo found out about other women who’d been abused by him in the years since she’d left New Jersey. All of their testimonies led to victory in the civil case against Paul and the beginnings of a criminal trial thanks to the charges being pressed by Paul’s current girlfriend, Jenny. The criminal trial was the main reason Jo decided to stay in Florida. She wanted to be there to testify and see the look on Paul’s face when he finally got what he deserved.

Still, sometimes Jo would look out the window of the hospital she worked at, see the rain, the cars, the bustling, and remember the friends she’d left behind. The family she’d grown to love and care for. But the longer she remembered that, the sadder she got. It hurt too bad to think of all the what ifs. It hurt to picture her people moving on without her.

So, Jo did what she did best. She worked. She worked hard to make sure that she was focused and the best in her class. Jo got the best surgeries, she had every attending surgeon’s attention, she was a rock-star and was even in the process of raising up her own set of baby interns.

Being away was hard, though. Jo found herself walking up to the nursery and NICU to look at the babies like she and her friends had done so many times their intern year. There was something precious about that period in life. Something so fresh and hopeful and exciting. Maybe that’s why she gravitated towards maternal-fetal and pediatric surgery. It helped that the hospital she was working at was nationally ranked in obstetrics and gynecology. She found herself spending more time on the L&D and peds floors of the hospital, assisting complicated and rare surgeries. By the time she was in her fifth year of residency, she’d decided that maternal-fetal surgery was the way to go. She found so much joy in safeguarding the future of the tiny little lives that would soon be brought into the world.

Her purpose in life wasn’t the only thing that she found on the L&D and peds floors of the hospital. It was also where she met Jason. Jason Myers was an OB resident she found herself spending an increasing amount of time with. He was hot and charming and funny and he was the first guy Jo truly dated after leaving Seattle. It was casual and fun, something that Jo hadn’t experienced in a long time.

They’d been together for about four months when Jo noticed a couple red flags. It started when she began traveling for her fellowship interviews in the last few months of her residency. Jason began to get demanding and possessive. He grabbed her roughly on a couple occasions and had stumbled into their apartment completely wasted and smelling of another woman’s perfume.

“I think I’m going to have to break up with my boyfriend,” Jo sighed as spoke into the phone to Meredith.

“You’re finally going to break up with that asshole? Thank God,” Meredith replied. “Jo, you could do so much better.”

“I know. You were right,” Jo rolled her eyes as she pictured Meredith’s smug face. Before she’d even started dating Jason, Meredith told her that it was a bad idea, despite having never met him. “It was just so easy in the beginning. Sure it’s been fun, but I knew it would never be more than just this. But for the past month, he’s just been so mean and nasty. A complete douchebag. I don’t have time for this. I’m leaving for Michigan in a few weeks, for crying out loud.”

“You know, Dr. Herman still hasn’t filled her Maternal-Fetal Surgery Fellowship position yet. You should reach out to her and see if she’ll take you into consideration,” Meredith suggested.

“Mer, the Maternal-Fetal Pediatric Surgery Fellowship at UMich is a fantastic program,” Jo said as she continued to walk down the halls of the hospital. “Besides, I don’t think I’d be able to face Alex after all these years.”

“Jo, you wouldn’t have to,” Meredith paused. “Alex got into Hopkins’ Pediatric Surgery program.”

“He what?”

“Yup,” Jo could almost hear the smile in Meredith’s tone as she filled her in. “He’s going to Baltimore to be a peds fellow.”

“That’s amazing,” Jo breathed out. Truly, she was so proud of how far he’d come in his career. “I knew from the moment you talked about the Africa project that brought you Zola that he’d be going into peds. But Hopkins? God, I wish I could tell him how proud I am.”

“I’d say you could always call him, but that suggestion would fall of deaf ears,” Meredith chuckled lightly. “Anyway, he’s leaving so there's nothing stopping you from coming to Seattle. Come home, Jo. I’m sure UMich is great, but Herman is the best of the best. Plus, we’re here. Me, Cristina, Lexie, Bailey, your new niece. We’re all here in Seattle. Come be with us.”

“You know what, I think I will apply,” Jo said after a moment. “I’m tired of running.

“I’ll email you Herman’s contact information,” Meredith exclaimed excitedly. “Good luck with your break up.”

“Haha, thanks.”

—————

-People I've loved, I have no regrets- -Some I remember, some I forget- -Some of them living, some of them dead-

The plane crash was the true turning point for Jo. That call wrecked her in ways she didn’t know she could be wrecked. She wanted to go over there as soon as possible, but Jo still had two weeks left of her residency to complete before she made her final decision about which fellowship position she would choose. However, as soon as she was relieved from her duties at Mayo in Jacksonville, she found herself engaged in a very nasty break up with Jason and lugged all of her belongings across the country. Four days and some three thousand miles later, Jo found herself on the doorstep of the frat house face to face with a tired looking Meredith. Jo immediately wrapped her arms around her friend as she cried for the sister she’d lost. Jo rubbed comforting circles on Meredith’s back before she looked up and locked eyes with Alex. He froze and if it weren’t for the small child he was holding in his arms, Jo was sure he might’ve passed out with the way his eyes widened in disbelief.

Jo ushered Meredith back into the house and motioned Alex to the door, where he went to grab her bags and pull them inside. Meredith grasped at Jo’s arms as they sat side by side on the couch, “Lexie is dead. Mark is dying. Arizona is dying. Cristina won’t speak. Derek’s arm is ruined. And I… I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay, Mer. I’m here. I’m here,” Jo smoothed down Meredith’s hair soothingly as she attempted to keep her own tears at bay. “You don’t have to worry about that right now. You don’t have to be in control. You don’t have to care of everyone. Just rest. You need to rest.”

A couple hours later, Jo was sitting on the couch with Meredith’s head on her lap, finally sound asleep. Jo had been staring out the window, lost in thought when she heard a couple footsteps come down the stairs. She looked up and saw Alex staring at her with a strange expression on his face.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Jo breathed out in response.

“I just put Zola to sleep,” Alex pointed up to the second floor. He stared at her in silence for a minute more before speaking. “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” Jo gave him an almost imperceptible nod. “I’m here… what are you doing here? I thought you were going to Hopkins.”

“I told them I needed to hold off for a month because of Robbins. How do you know…?”

Jo motioned to the friend that was currently asleep on her lap, “We’ve kept in touch.”

“You what? You guys talk to each other?” Alex asked, his brow furrowing.

“Yeah. About once a week,” Jo whispered nonchalantly.

“You two talk to each other. Once a week?” Alex scoffed. “And you didn’t think to, I don't know… maybe call me? Meredith didn’t think to tell me that she was in contact with you?”

“I asked her not to say anything,” Jo eye’s moved away from his face to look at Meredith’s sleeping form.

“I was worried about you. I thought you were dead,” Alex glared at her.

“Wait, what?” Jo’s face wrinkled in confusion. “Why would you think that?”

“Because of that phone call a year and a half ago!” Alex whisper-yelled. “You called me from a freaking payphone, sobbing and said that you needed to hear my voice one last time before you went through with ‘it.’ I had no idea what the ‘it’ was. You have to know what that must’ve sounded like from my end. I’ve been playing that conversation over and over again in my head for the better part of a year and a half, wondering if you killed yourself.”

“No, Alex I would never… I mean, I know I tried it once, but I value my life now. I would never do something to intentionally harm myself.”

“Then what the hell were you doing calling me and scaring me half to death like that?” Alex crossed his arms and looked at her seriously.

“I…” Jo took a deep breath. “I got divorced from Paul that day.”

“You’re free?” Alex’s face softened slightly.

“I’m free,” Jo confirmed, eyes watering. “I got legal protections that day as well and I made the decision to testify in Paul’s criminal trial that would determine whether he was guilty of the charges his then-girlfriend, Jenny accused him of. I wasn’t the only girl he abused, but I got to make sure that he never gets the chance to do it again. He’s currently serving five years in prison for domestic violence, abuse, and a couple of other charges.” Jo paused. “I called you because I almost didn’t walk into that courtroom. I couldn’t bear the thought of being in the same room as him, even with everyone else around. But you always did have a way of making me feel like I could do anything.”

The pair got quiet. They stood in the tense silence before Alex asked the question he’d been wondering since she walked in through those doors, “How long are you here for?”

“I’m here to stay,” Jo shared. “I’m Dr. Herman’s newest maternal-fetal surgical fellow. I came as soon as I could when I heard about the crash.”

“Maternal-fetal? What happened to ortho?”

“What happened to plastics?” Jo's mouth twitched up into a small smile. “So, peds, huh?”

“Turns out I’m great with those little suckers,” Alex chuckled lightly.

“Me too,” Jo smiled shyly. “I’m especially good when they’re in-utero though.”

“Guess I’m the out guy,” Alex shrugged, a comfortable smile on his face.

“Yeah,” Jo bit her lip lightly. “Where’s Izzie?”

“You don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?” Jo tilted her head in question. “Oh God, don’t tell me she died or that her cancer is back.”

“No,” Alex breathed out a laugh. “Well, honestly, I don’t know. We got divorced. I haven’t spoken to her since then.”

“You what?” Jo’s jaw dropped. “What⎯when did this happen?”

“About four months after you left.”

“I need to go,” Jo gently moved Meredith’s head from her lap and slipped on her shoes, making her way towards the door.

“Where are you going? You just got here?” Alex moved close. “You can’t leave, not with Mer like this.”

“Relax, I’ll be back before she wakes up. I just… I need to get out of here. I need to get away from you,” Jo walked out the door into the warm June night.

She considered finding a hotel or going to the bar, but Jo was too exhausted from her four day trek to Seattle to go anywhere. She unlocked her car and jumped into the back seat, situating the seats so she could sleep there for the night and avoid the many, many problems until morning.

In the days and weeks following, Jo became an invaluable asset to Meredith as she navigated the many hardships that came with the plane crash. She moved into her tiny apartment and Jo began her fellowship and started working at Seattle Grace Mercy West once again, to everyone’s pleasure. For the first time in forever, Jo was surrounded by people that she knew and loved, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was utterly alone. Maybe it had to do with the fact that ever since that night she arrived, she hadn’t talked to Alex. Apparently he must’ve noticed, because one day he got fed up.

“Jo, come on. Please talk to me,” Alex grabbed her arm and pulled her into an empty on call room. “You’ve been back for over a month. You’ve talked to our friends. You’ve been getting to know Avery. You got friendly with Kepner before she got fired. You helped Cristina pack her things to go to Minnesota. You can’t ignore me forever. You’re a fetal surgeon. We’ve already had five cases together this month alone. Are you just trying to hold out until I leave for Hopkins? Well guess what, I’m leaving tonight so time’s up. You need to talk to me.”

It was true. In the month since their conversation at the frat house, Jo and Alex had an unusually high number of cases together that required that they spend quite a lot of time together. However, aside from the hours in the OR that she was required to spend with him, Jo found herself purposely avoiding him. The past few days had been especially difficult for her as she found out some unexpected information and was doing her best to avoid him so as not to fall apart in his arms.

“Shut up, Alex. Shut up before I punch you in the face, because I swear to God I am so angry with you right now,” Jo was seething, doing everything in her power to keep from screaming at him.

“What the hell did I do? I haven’t had a chance to get on your nerves,” Alex scrunched his face in confusion.

“You haven’t had a chance?” Jo threw her arms up in the air. “You divorced Izzie?”

“First of all, she divorced me,” Alex held up a finger. “Secondly, why the hell do you care?”

“What do you mean why the hell do I care? How dare you screw this up? I left and practically handed you to her. But you went and divorced her? And now you’re some man whore who doesn’t care where he sticks it?” Jo threw her hands up angrily. “How the hell could you let Izzie go? Why didn’t you chase her and beg her to stay? Why didn’t you swear you’d do better? Why didn’t you fight for her?”

“Because she wasn’t the one I wanted to fight for!” Alex shouted. The room went silent. So quiet that you could probably hear a pin drop. The pair stared at each other tensely, no one daring to move. Alex finally huffed a breath. “I could’ve fought for her. I could’ve made it work. But I didn’t want to.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah I know.”

“No, I’m serious Alex. Do you know how ridiculous you sound right now?” Jo clenched her jaw. “Why did you even marry her?”

“I—I don’t know,” Alex shrugged.

“I don’t know? I don’t know? That’s probably the most moronic thing that I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. And that’s saying something because you’ve said some pretty stupid things,” Jo turned to face the wall and leaned her head against it. “I told you not to do it. I told you not to marry her. I told you that I was willing to put my own safety at risk to be with you and you chose her. You still chose poor, sick Izzie. You chose her and broke every single one of the promises you made me. Then you got divorced? And you didn’t even bother trying to fight? What the hell was it all for?”

“Don’t act like you’re innocent in all this,” Alex scoffed. “You were the one who left me. With a fucking letter, of all things! You didn’t even have the decency to say it to my face.”

“Because you wrecked me!” Jo yelled. “I gave you everything I had to give. I let you into my life, my bed, my heart. And somewhere along the line you decided that I wasn’t good enough or worth the wait. And stop talking like we were together. We weren’t together when I left! We were never together because you squashed that possibility before we even got the chance!”

“It doesn’t matter because you were my best friend! You were my best friend and you left and didn’t say goodbye. You didn’t leave a phone number, an email, and address. Nothing. You just disappeared. And when you did, it felt like I was a kid all over again. With no one who loved him or cared around,” Alex retorted.

“That’s a load of bullshit,” Jo spat. “You had a wife. You had friends. You had your home. Me leaving didn't completely upend and disrupt your life! I lost my home. I lost my best friend. I lost the only family I had ever known all so that you could have a chance at making your marriage work. Because I knew that if I was around, you’d only feel guilty. So I took myself out of the equation. I did it for you! I loved you enough to lose you, to let you go. Do you have any idea the amount of pain I’ve been in the past three years? Wishing I was here in Seattle, but constantly reminding myself that I left so that you could have a happy life with Izzie and so that I could heal. So imagine what a punch in the gut it feels like to find out that you haven’t even been with Izzie. You’ve been sleeping around with anyone and everyone easy enough to let you get into their pants, while I was in pain, all alone in Florida with nothing and no one but my chief of surgery and my douchebag ex-boyfriend.”

“Well things weren’t exactly sunshine and rainbows here either! But you wouldn’t know because you weren’t here! You’re so wrapped up in how much it all cost you and how much you sacrificed, but I never asked you to do any of it! You decided what was best for the both of us. You decided to leave, when all I wanted was to have you around. Because I have never loved anyone in my life more than I loved you. And that probably sounds pretty screwed up because I married Izzie, but it’s true. Do you know what a slap in the face it was when you left? Do you know that I cried in shower every once in a while because I missed you? And it wasn’t even the sex. It was the friendship. I missed your voice and your laugh and your advice. I missed you. But you decided to pretend like we didn’t matter and didn’t bother to leave me a way to contact you. So, let me make this easier. We don’t matter to each other! Not anymore because I’m done!” Alex bellowed. He took a steadying breath and laughed bitterly. “You know what, it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m leaving tonight anyway and you’ll never have to see my face again. Have a nice life.”

Jo waited until Alex finally turned around and walked out of the on-call room before she crumbled onto the floor in tears. She pressed a hand to her chest and tried her will herself to calm down, but it was too much. None of it was supposed to be happening this way. She wasn’t supposed to come back to Seattle only to find out that Lexie died, Cristina left, and that Mark Sloan was getting unplugged tonight. She wasn’t supposed to see Alex at all. She wasn’t supposed to find out that he was divorced. She wasn’t supposed to watch him leave her. She wasn’t supposed to be making one of the hardest decisions in her life like this. Maybe that’s why she took out her phone and looked for Jason’s phone number and hit the dial button.

After he left the on-call room, Alex was a whirlwind, trying his best to make it to the airport with no more interruptions. What he didn’t bank on was running into Meredith.

“Hey! So that’s it? I’m not even as good as one of your intern girls, huh? You’re not gonna say goodbye to me?” Meredith stood in front of him.

“Mer, what are you doing here?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Meredith narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t make this a thing,” Alex rolled his eyes.

“Don’t make this a thing? Mark is dying right now, and that’s it. You’re just gonna leave too?” Meredith shook her head in disbelief.

“I’m just—I’m gonna be on the other side of the country. We’ll talk—“

“That’s what Cristina said. It’s not the same thing,” Meredith frowned. “Nothing is the same. Everything is different. Everyone is leaving and everyone is dying.”

“Don’t make this my problem,” Alex scowled. “I’m finally getting the hell out of here. I can’t keep standing around being the guy that should’ve been on the plane that crashed. I shouldn’t be here, Mer. I should be dead. Or I should’ve left months ago.”

“Alex!” Meredith grabbed on to his jacket as he tried to walk away.

“Get off,” he pushed her hand away. “Look, I’m not going to stay in Seattle just because you don’t want to be alone.”

“This isn’t about me not wanting to be alone. Because I won’t be alone. Jo’s here now, remember that? Remember the girl you’ve been in love with since our intern year? The one you’ve been pining over ever since she left three years ago? Well, you’re finally in the same city again. Are you really going to let that go?” Meredith stared at Alex intensely.

“Jo doesn’t want me here. I just cause her pain,” Alex replied simply. “It’s time for me to go. I need to get out of Seattle Grace Mercy Death. I need to build a home and Hopkins won’t wait forever. I have a plane to catch, so, bye.”

With that, Meredith scoffed and turned on her heels, walking away.

Alex watched as his friend walked away in anger and frustration. Shaking his head, Alex turned around and started towards his terminal. He was about to board the plane when he realized that he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t leave and upend his life without knowing that it was the right thing to do.

That’s how he found himself sitting at the bar beside Meredith at the terminal lounge.

“What are you doing here?” Meredith asked.

“Hey! Who is that?” Cristina’s voice sounded from Meredith’s iPad. “Point me.”

“I’m sorry about before,” Alex cast Meredith a sideways glance.

“You should be,” Meredith raised an eyebrow and sighed. “I’m sorry, too.”

“I thought he said he was leaving⎯I thought you said you were leaving,” Cristina commented.

“The guy replacing Robbins is gonna mess the place up,” Alex moved his face into the view of the screen. “Besides, I don’t even like Boston.”

“So what are you saying?” Meredith scrunched her face.

“I couldn’t get on my plane, okay? I couldn’t go,” Alex admitted.

“You’re saying you ditched the flight because you chickened out?”

“What a loser,” Meredith’s mouth twitched and she pulled Alex in for a hug.

“You’re staying for Wilson right?” Cristina looked at him expectantly through the video chat.

“I don’t know… maybe?” Alex shrugged. “All I know is that the thought of leaving without trying to at least fix my friendship with her makes me feel sick. I don’t even know why I care, though. She obviously doesn’t. She left me once, who’s to say she won’t do it again?”

“Wow, you are an even bigger idiot than I thought you were,” Cristina shook her head. “Of course she cares. Who do you think made your medical decisions or paid your bills after you got shot?”

“Wait, what?”

“Jo called me after the shooting. When we realized that she was your proxy, she took a plane to Seattle, decided on the best course of treatment, cried, held your hand for a little, and left all before you even had a chance to wake up,” Meredith shared.

“She did?” Alex struggled to comprehend how he’d never known about her trip all those years ago to take care of him.

“Yeah, she did,” Cristina nodded.

“So, did you just ditch tonight’s flight and you’re planning on taking another one another day or are you going to stay for good?” Meredith waited for him to reply.

“I don’t know yet,” he shook his head. “I don’t know what I should do.”

“I think you know what you need to do,” Meredith eyed him carefully. “Alex, you found your family in Seattle and now you have a second chance to fix things with Jo and you’re really going to leave?”

“You know, I’ve been trying to leave Seattle because for the longest it just didn’t feel like home,” Alex took a swig of the beer that the bartender had placed in front of him. “I felt like I didn’t belong. I wanted to go and find a place that felt like home, but I guess I’m realizing that home was never a place. It’s Jo. It was always Jo and now she’s here and I’m not about to be the idiot that runs away from home again.”

“So, you’re really going to try? You’re not gonna screw up and break her heart again? Because you know that Jo could do so much better than you?” Cristina asked pointedly. “I’m asking because I’m protective of my hairball and I won’t hesitate to come beat your ass if you do. Fear of flying be damned.”

Alex let out a soft laugh before growing serious again, “She deserves better. She deserves someone better than me. But I don’t want her with anyone else. So, I guess I’m just gonna have to be better. I have to become the man she deserves, because she’s everything. She’s home.”

-All I want-

-Is to be home-

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noirwritingtime · 3 years

Text

r e a l i t y ?

So I use different fonts for this, and I'm not sure what the best way to put an easier translation for that would be... I will reblog with translations in that post !! If you have any ways that others do this to make it easier to read lemme know, please! Thanks! :]

Also! I don't know proper coding terms so,, please don't harass me for that xD I just want stuff to sound cool and get the point across--

I'm quite proud of this one, even though there are scenes that make me go why??,, but I like this one.. It is longer than what I can usually pump out so :D

TW: self-doubt, strong(?) language, pain, torture, drugs, syringe usage, implied death/suicide --------

He's done it. Finally... All of the egos are in his hands, trapped under his control.

His chest pounds with a feeling of pride and yet- a sense of unending panic. He's never had something quite this large of a scale work before. He takes quick breaths, still trying to process what is going on.

He did it. All of them..trapped. Trapped inside his computer.

He's not entirely sure if this will keep working like it is- but! He got them all inside, so that's a start.

After letting his head attempt to wrap itself what he's seeing, he finally takes a seat and messes with the program he designed specifically for this. With quick, shaky fingers, he types in the deciding code. Starting the simulation for all of the egos inside.

He did it.

The glitch takes a moment to just listen to the computer work, hearing all the pings and the low hum it emits. It relaxes him a bit, and he sighs against the wood of his desk.

P̺͆r̺͆o̺͆g̺͆r̺͆a̺͆m̺͆ r̺͆e̺͆a̺͆d̺͆y̺͆... --e̺͆g̺͆o̺͆s̺͆.e̺͆x̺͆e̺͆

A̺͆l̺͆l̺͆ s̺͆y̺͆s̺͆t̺͆e̺͆m̺͆s̺͆ w̺͆o̺͆r̺͆k̺͆i̺͆n̺͆g̺͆. -n̺͆o̺͆ e̺͆r̺͆r̺͆o̺͆r̺͆s̺͆.

After a moment, he stands up. He grins wildly and stretches before leaving his room- needing some food after starving for weeks.

A̺͆l̺͆l̺͆ s̺͆y̺͆s̺͆t̺͆e̺͆m̺͆s̺͆ r̺͆u̺͆n̺͆n̺͆i̺͆n̺͆g̺͆... s̺͆y̺͆s̺͆t̺͆e̺͆m̺͆ c̺͆h̺͆e̺͆c̺͆k̺͆-

..... N̺͆o̺͆ e̺͆r̺͆r̺͆o̺͆r̺͆s̺͆.

This pleases the glitch as the program had been online for a full twenty-four-hour period and there had been no mess ups so far. He runs a hand through his hair and laughs breathily.

"It's working! I did it and no one realizes it! Haha!" He smiles and his chest feels light, is this what success feels like? He likes the feeling. "No one can stop me-"

O̺͆n̺͆e̺͆ e̺͆r̺͆r̺͆o̺͆r̺͆.

... T̺͆h̺͆r̺͆e̺͆e̺͆ e̺͆r̺͆r̺͆o̺͆r̺͆s̺͆. R̺͆u̺͆n̺͆n̺͆i̺͆n̺͆g̺͆ s̺͆y̺͆s̺͆t̺͆e̺͆m̺͆ c̺͆h̺͆e̺͆c̺͆k̺͆...

E̺͆r̺͆r̺͆o̺͆r̺͆ i̺͆n̺͆ s̺͆y̺͆s̺͆t̺͆e̺͆m̺͆- -e̺͆g̺͆o̺͆s̺͆.e̺͆x̺͆e̺͆

His eyes widen and his body lights up with sparks. "What!?" He is at his desk in a flash, his quick hands searching for the problem.

"No no- Not today pesky magician!" His eyes flash as he runs one of the emergency codes. "That should keep you out of it-" He looks at the program overview, a sigh escapes his mouth.

A̺͆l̺͆l̺͆ s̺͆y̺͆s̺͆t̺͆e̺͆m̺͆s̺͆ w̺͆o̺͆r̺͆k̺͆i̺͆n̺͆g̺͆.

He shakes his head and grips it, muttering curses of relief. "I knew he would be trouble."

His body shudders in a wave of glitches, a result of adrenaline. He waits out the adrenaline attack before doing a quick virus check, finding nothing for now he decides to take a breather.

"God fucking dam- stupid bitch!" He screams in frustration, dealing with yet another reoccurring problem.

It has been one month, and at one point all of the egos had found out- he did a mass memory wipe. This was good...until their character files started to break under the buildup of commands. The room has not been quiet for a long time, the glitch making noises of frustration or rambling about one of the egos.

Right now, it is extremely loud. Anti does another memory wipe and hits his head with his wrists. "Just- stop breaking already!"

The doorbell rings.

His eyes snap open wide before he remembers he ordered pizza. He stares at the computer for a moment.

S̺͆y̺͆s̺͆t̺͆e̺͆m̺͆s̺͆ o̺͆p̺͆e̺͆r̺͆a̺͆t̺͆i̺͆n̺͆g̺͆... .. r̺͆u̺͆n̺͆n̺͆i̺͆n̺͆g̺͆ e̺͆g̺͆o̺͆s̺͆.e̺͆x̺͆e̺͆ c̺͆h̺͆e̺͆c̺͆k̺͆u̺͆p̺͆

... ....T̺͆w̺͆o̺͆ f̺͆i̺͆l̺͆e̺͆s̺͆ c̺͆o̺͆m̺͆p̺͆l̺͆e̺͆t̺͆e̺͆. F̺͆o̺͆u̺͆r̺͆ f̺͆i̺͆l̺͆e̺͆s̺͆ b̺͆e̺͆i̺͆n̺͆g̺͆ w̺͆i̺͆p̺͆e̺͆d̺͆- P̺͆r̺͆o̺͆g̺͆r̺͆a̺͆m̺͆ S̺͆t̺͆a̺͆b̺͆l̺͆e̺͆.

He decides the break to get pizza is fine and leaves his room.

"Here you go sir, sign here.." The deliverer eyes the glitch a bit, curious- but doesn't say anything.

Anti gives them a fake smile. "Thanks for the pizza." He takes the box after paying and shuts the door, his face immediately dropping into a tired bitch face.

I did it...

He chants this to himself under his breath, in another crisis with the egos stuck in his computer. Weird how much trouble they're giving him considering the situation. Stuck in a computer, odd.

Anyways, the glitch shakes and runs a hand through his hair, some of his hair coming with his hand from the amount of unhealthy stress- completely brought on by himself.

He notices and breaks a little. "No... no- I'm fine and I'm not breaking! I'm not!" He slams his hand down onto the desk, trembling at this point. "I did it! So- That means nothing is wrong!" The strain on his voice just gets worse as time goes on.

The computer makes a noise, something else gone wrong.

He holds his face for a moment, breathing shakily.

...

S̺͆y̺͆s̺͆t̺͆e̺͆m̺͆s̺͆ f̺͆a̺͆i̺͆l̺͆i̺͆n̺͆g̺͆. e̺͆g̺͆o̺͆s̺͆.e̺͆x̺͆e̺͆ c̺͆o̺͆r̺͆r̺͆u̺͆p̺͆t̺͆..

S̺͆i̺͆x̺͆ s̺͆u̺͆b̺͆j̺͆e̺͆c̺͆t̺͆s̺͆ w̺͆a̺͆i̺͆t̺͆i̺͆n̺͆g̺͆ t̺͆o̺͆ b̺͆e̺͆ e̺͆j̺͆e̺͆c̺͆t̺͆e̺͆d̺͆, e̺͆j̺͆e̺͆c̺͆t̺͆ s̺͆u̺͆b̺͆j̺͆e̺͆c̺͆t̺͆s̺͆ ?

P̺͆r̺͆o̺͆g̺͆r̺͆a̺͆m̺͆ u̺͆n̺͆s̺͆t̺͆a̺͆b̺͆l̺͆e̺͆.

...

"N̸O̸!" He panics, his voice breaking down into its base mode. Glitching and staticky. "Y̸o̸u̸r̸e̸ n̸o̸t̸ g̸e̸t̸t̸i̸n̸g̸ o̸u̸t̸ t̸h̸a̸t̸ e̸a̸s̸y̸!!" He types in some commands and tries getting egos files working again. His hands shake and he almost mistypes every word.

He breathes erratically. "I̸m̸ n̸o̸t̸ f̸a̸i̸l̸i̸n̸g̸ n̸o̸w̸!" Static fills the air, surrounding him and near choking him. He blinks hard to focus, his eyes twitching and trying to shut.

P̺͆r̺͆o̺͆g̺͆r̺͆a̺͆m̺͆ u̺͆n̺͆s̺͆t̺͆a̺͆b̺͆l̺͆e̺͆.

R̺͆e̺͆b̺͆o̺͆o̺͆t̺͆?

He shakes his head, trying to fix this before it decides to take all of his work away and boot the egos out of the computer.

"Don't you dare- don't do it! I have c̸o̸n̸t̸r̸o̸l̸!" The glitch races to fix the errors and build it up better, keeping an eye on the egos files.

P̺͆r̺͆o̺͆g̺͆r̺͆a̺͆m̺͆ r̺͆e̺͆s̺͆t̺͆o̺͆r̺͆e̺͆d̺͆. e̺͆g̺͆o̺͆s̺͆.e̺͆x̺͆e̺͆ r̺͆u̺͆n̺͆n̺͆i̺͆n̺͆g̺͆ p̺͆r̺͆o̺͆p̺͆e̺͆r̺͆l̺͆y̺͆..

S̺͆y̺͆s̺͆t̺͆e̺͆m̺͆s̺͆ w̺͆o̺͆r̺͆k̺͆i̺͆n̺͆g̺͆ a̺͆n̺͆d̺͆ o̺͆n̺͆l̺͆i̺͆n̺͆e̺͆.

He cries in relief and laughs. "ⁱ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ" His body nearly collapses, but he keeps himself up and awake. He can't relax now, it got too close to breaking for him to rest.

The room is quiet again but with a low static buzz, the glitch still on edge.

S̺͆y̺͆s̺͆t̺͆e̺͆m̺͆s̺͆ w̺͆o̺͆r̺͆k̺͆i̺͆n̺͆g̺͆.

P̺͆r̺͆o̺͆g̺͆r̺͆a̺͆m̺͆ S̺͆t̺͆e̺͆a̺͆d̺͆y̺͆.... e̺͆g̺͆o̺͆s̺͆.e̺͆x̺͆e̺͆ r̺͆u̺͆n̺͆n̺͆i̺͆n̺͆g̺͆.. - n̺͆o̺͆ e̺͆r̺͆r̺͆o̺͆r̺͆s̺͆.

The tired glitch can't believe the words on the screen, it had been two weeks since the last breakdown and there had been no problems since. It was almost too good to be true.

He sits back and exhales, tired and starving. His eyes burn from strain and there's a low-hanging headache permanently wrecking him. Did it even feel like he was winning at this point?

A voice interrupts the static room. "So, this is what you've been doing?"

Anti glitches up into an aggressive position, ready to attack- or so he thinks. He stops seeing who was there.

"Why aʳᵉ you heʳe?" His voice cracks from the excessive screaming and lack of hydration.

The intruder chuckles lowly, folding their hand behind their back.

"Oh Anti, did you think I wouldn't notice the lack of activity?" They smirk. "You take the role of idiot effortlessly."

Anti twitches and glares in response. "SHᵘT ᵘP, DᵃʳK." He swears internally from the voice cracks.

They hum and step inside, taking a quick look around to be condescending. "Where have you been keeping them?" They raise a brow.

He snarls and goes to push them out. "Gᵒ awᵃʸ-!" His throat tears slightly and he is stopped by a cane at his chest.

"Tsk..that's not a good answer, glitch." They put their cane to the floor, stretching their neck. "I'm here with curious intentions, not going to ruin whatever low-grade scheme you have." Of course, that last part is always debatable. Dark loved messing with him, taking away whatever footing the glitch manages to get.

He rubs his chest and glares, not trusting Dark. "It's nᵒt for ʸᵒᵘ to knᵒʷ...ʸᵉt." He twitches and points to the door. "ᵒᵘt."

Dark chuckles and shakes their head. "Stubborn as always. I will find out, by any means. Why don't you make this easier for your tired, strained, self?" They raise a brow with a slight smirk, knowing the glitch is on his last few straws.

His eye twitches as he glitches heavily. "Yᵒᵘre smᵃʳt. Fiᵍᵘre it oᵘᵗ." He points at the door again, keeping his gaze off the computer as it is on and displaying the codes and programs running.

Dark tilts their head, looking Anti up and down. "I should have known, obvious isn't it?" They smile and look at the computer. "Your computer is overheating and I know you quit your.. unnecessary habit long ago."

Anti storms over and blocks them from getting to the computer. "Gᵉt ᵒᵘt. Thᵉʸ'rᵉ gᵒⁿᵉ nᵒʷ." He shakes with glitches as he tries to keep up a barrier.

They smirk and pat his cheek. "Was that so hard? Though, I'm shocked at your ability to do this. That requires planning and the ability to get the job done.." They give him a condescending look. "I would never use those words for you."

He sparks and grabs Dark by the tie. "ʰᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵐʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ?" He surges with heavy glitches, and lines of code start wrapping around Dark- rendering them immobile. Their eyes widen slightly as the glitch's abilities work much faster than anticipated, but due to their current state of being- they are able to halt the coding and glitches.

"You forget. I am in better standing than you." Their body pulses with reds and blues, breaking the thin lines that Anti was able to conjure at such short notice.

He shakes and leans against the desk to stay upright. He just watches, too tired to do anything else.

Dark fixes their suit and holds their cane, standing powerfully in front of the glitch. "You're weak, out of shape, and a failure. I don't know how you've managed to keep them trapped, but I know that it is a waste." They grab his chin and force him to meet their gaze, smirking.

Anti glares tiredly in defiance, but too weak to do much else. "ⁱᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵉᵃᵏ" His voice wavers.

They chuckle. "Keep lying to yourself." They stand back up, releasing his chin. "Free them or I will."

He glitches and shakes his head. "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿᵗ! ⁱᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ʸᵉᵗ, ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵐᵉ!" I've come so far, I just need to perfect it- His thoughts are interrupting Dark clearing their throat.

"Anti. Make this easier for yourself and just give it up, you were never made to succeed." They come closer, trapping him against the desk.

The words and thoughts break his confidence slightly, cracking his tough shell once again. He stares at Dark.

"ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿᵗ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵒˡ ᵐᵉ-" He didn't expect the hand squeezing his throat and he grabs at it weakly.

Dark sighs, disappointed with Anti. "You never learn your place, do you?" They choke the glitch with ease, keeping him down.

The glitch feels himself start to slip into unconsciousness. "ⁱ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁱᵗ..!" I'm not a failure... He falls limp in Darks grasp, weakly glitching.

After a few days, Dark figured out how to free the egos and they did so. They'd rather have pawns to mess with than let the glitch feel any sense of control. More entertaining that way.

The glitch had stayed unconscious, with the help of Dark drugging him. They've dealt with unruly egos many a time.

They smirk, overhearing the egos deal with Anti's unconscious body and talking about what they will do.

My job here is done. They disappear, leaving the glitch to his punishment.

[ 'torture' starts ]

Anti wakes up, finally, and squints his eyes open- sensitive to the brightly lit room. He tries moving but is stopped by straps. Straps? He wakes up a bit more as he realizes he can't get up.

"Looks like someone finally woke up to face his crimes." Who- Jackie. That was Jackie's voice- how is he speaking to me? Anti struggles a bit, not wanting to accept that Dark let him out.

"You can't escape, your glitching is useless and ve're all vell rested." Henrik- No, no no- NO!

"No-" His voice cracks from inactivity and he thrashes under the bindings. "You didn't stop me! This is just a setback!" He pulls with all his strength to escape the table he's restrained on, with no success.

"Just give it up Anti! You lost and you're going to pay for your crime!" Jackie slams his fist down by Anti's head, stilling the glitch by shock.

Anti looks up at him with fury and determined madness in his eyes, unwilling to accept that he failed.

Jackie looks down at him, enraged and ready to hurt the glitch. Just waiting for the time to do so. "You're going to pay. You hurt us all and for what? To feel good about your pathetic self?" He snarls a bit.

"You can't hurt me!" He screams, glitching from the outburst.

"Oh but I can, Hen has been perfecting some drugs." He leans down, gripping Anti's hair. "You'll be in pain for a long time, Anti."

He glares at the hero ego, still thinking he'll just get out of this. "You wouldn't."

Jackie shakes his head, slamming the glitch's head down. "We will, and are going to." He walks over to Henrik, looking at the doctor's work.

Anti winces and bares his teeth, watching Jackie. When he sees the counter, he feels his heart stop.

He now feels the tubes.

He now feels the incisions.

He remembers what the doctor is willing to do.

He feels fear.

"You cant! You guys wouldn't do this to me-" He thrashes again, watching Henrik set up a syringe.

Jackie sees the glitch panic and doesn't hate how seeing him scared feels good, for now at least. He nods to Henrik and leaves the room.

Henrik turns and smiles at Anti. "It's going to sting, a lot." He approaches Anti. And with the doctor's strength, holds Antis's head down as he injects the drugs into the glitch's neck.

The glitch gasps and pulls against the straps, his skin starts to feel like it's on fire and stinging. He bites down on his tongue, holding back his noises of pain.

The doctor makes sure to get it all in the glitches system before taking the device out, smirking at how quickly the drug takes the first effects.

"I'll be back tomorrow to give you the next dosage." With that, he leaves the glitch to writhe in agony alone.

[end for that part ]

Jackie was waiting outside for Henrik, his arms crossed. When he sees the doctor leave the room, he moves to follow him. He was having his doubts now that it was actually happening.

"Henrik, what if this.. is the wrong thing to do?"

The doctor looks to Jackie and shakes his head. "Don't vorry about it. He needs to know what he did is vrong, zhis is vhat vill get zhrough his thick skull."

Jackie frowns a bit but nods, seeing sense in the doctor's words. And conveniently forgetting that Henrik has his moments as a madman as well. Sometimes the only difference between him and Anti is their name.

"Makes sense.. thanks Doc."

Jameson holds himself with his arms, it's been a couple weeks and Anti is still being tortured by Jackie and Henrik. His thoughts are interrupted by someone holding his shoulder.

"Hey bro..you doing alright?" Chase speaks gently to him, knowing that the mute was not as accepting of the doctor and hero's plan.

He shakes his head. 'It is so wrong.. yeah he trapped us but does he really deserve this?' He looks at Chase, showing how uncomfortable he is. Jameson was never one to believe in hurting those that could change.. and Anti is someone he believes could. With the proper help, of course.

The dad sighs and nods a bit. "I know. This is what we think will get to him, and he's done more than this, you know that."

JJ shakes his head. 'It's inhumane! Cruel! You guys are no better than him now!' He tears up a bit, he had been holding back his feelings since the others were so upset at the glitch. Rightfully so.

Chase seems to finally get how JJ feels and he slowly wraps him up in a hug. "Oh my god...I never thought of it like that. I'm sorry James.."

[brief 'torture' start]

Anti cries dryly, having run out of tears, and gasps, his head burns and he lost his sense of feeling beyond the fires of drugged-up hell. The glitch had been so tired and pained, even before being tortured. And for what? He wanted to feel control... Why? Was it some instinct, coded deep within him that makes him do this or is it something else that brings up a whole dilemma of what trauma explains his actions? He's not sure he could ever answer that. Especially not now.

He hears the doctor return and he pleads with his eyes, even with knowing that this won't stop.

The doctor readies up another syringe, with a different substance, and comes over to Anti. "You deserve zhis. Zhis is your fault, Anti."

Anti nods, having lost his will too. "Hen..." He whimpers, feeling his head be pushed down.

"You vill never be forgiven and you deserve every bit of pain you get." Henrik's words sting into the glitch's mind, ingrained itself deeper into his thoughts. The doctor injects the new drug and watches for the glitch's reaction.

He whimpers and breathes heavily, his body going still against his will. "I know... I'm sorry.." He cries out, unable to move his hands or any other part to deal with the pain.

[end]

"Enjoy zhe new-" He looks to the door, seeing JJ come in. "Jameson? Vhat are you doing?"

The mute silently gasps, seeing Anti for the first time since he was taken away. 'Stop..you're not a monster Henrik' He signs even though his hands shake.

Henrik frowns and glances at Anti. "He's a monster, he needs to learn his lesson."

JJ shakes his head, looking at Henrik with hurt and almost fear in his eyes. 'He's confused and he needs to be guided- not this! You're better than this!'

He looks at JJ for a moment before sighing. "He.. vhat do zhe ozhers zhink?"

'He..we're going to do something different. No more drugs.'

"Alright... I'll take him off of zhem." He doesn't want to, but Jameson is the sound of reason now.

The mute moves closer, looking at Anti. He stares eye to eye with the glitch, seeing his pain clear as day. He touches his face and holds his cheek, hoping to reassure him. Anti whimpers, not able to move into his cool touch.

"I need to go there, Jameson."

The mute hesitantly pulls away, watching as the doctor administers something to stop the drugs and get the glitch to normal. He hears the doctor mutter under his breath, but he doesn't care. He focuses on the glitch.

The way he starts calming down and closing his eyes, ready to die. How he seems to be barely holding on anymore. Just wanting the pain to stop.

Jameson frowns a bit, going to have a stern talking with them all.

Henrik watches Anti as he slowly sits up, his muscles had atrophied and his health nonexistent at this point. He notices how the glitch, shrinks in on himself but doesn't hold himself. Perhaps he didn't want to heat up?

The doctor leads the way out for Anti. "Don't try anyzhing funny."

Anti nods and looks down, following him slowly. He can't help that, no muscle and all that jazz. He doesn't dare look around. Pathetic. Can't even fight back.

They get to the living room, where the others are waiting- besides Robbie. They decided to let the zombie rest and not be involved as long as he wanted. And honestly, who would blame him?

Henrik gestures for Anti to sit down and watches as he does so shakily as if he was the one abused. Oh, wait. Henrik shakes his head as he crosses his arms, looking to the others.

"Right. Jameson, do you vant to explain to Anti vhat ve'll be doing instead?"

Jameson nods and looks at Anti, the glitch just barely looks up at him. Enough to see what he's signing. 'You wont be given drugs..instead, you will just be under house arrest. And your computer will be taken away.'

Anti seems to lift his head up more. There's a certain look in his eye, something wrong. "No- I want my computer.."

Jameson shakes his head. 'No can do. You used it to trap us.'

He nods slowly. "Okay.." He glances at Henrik. "Can I go..?" Something is wrong.

Jameson looks at Henrik before nodding. The doctor sighs and nods. "Yes-" Before he can lay down more rules, Anti glitches away. "Shit-" He rushes up to Antis room, thinking that's where he went with JJ and the others following behind.

Anti appears in his room and he rushes to his computer. "I can't stay here I failed I'm weak-" His voice is just above a whisper, cracking from the emotions he is going through. I won't make it. He looks at it, runs his hand along the side before finalizing a decision.

"Anti! Vait!" Henrik bursts into the room and eyes the glitch down.

Slowly, the other turns around. His eyes showing a determination within them despite his worn down exterior.

"I'm not staying." He says quietly, the shake strong in his voice.

Henrik shakes his head. "That's not-"

"Goodbye." He disappears before the doctor can finish his sentence.

He frowns and looks around. "Vhere did he go?!" The others move to look around the house, and some go out into the city. None of them noticed the computer.

D̺͆e̺͆l̺͆e̺͆t̺͆e̺͆ A̺͆n̺͆t̺͆i̺͆s̺͆e̺͆p̺͆t̺͆i̺͆c̺͆e̺͆y̺͆e̺͆? ....

.... ..

10 notes · View notes

deargodsno · 3 years

Text

Last year, as the initial round of COVID raged and much of MAGA nation refused to mask or socially distance, it was common to hear folks refer to the Trumpian right as a suicidal death cult.

Most recently, MSNBC’s Joy Reid and Stephen Colbert agreed with the designation during a discussion on the latter’s program. According to both, refusal to get a vaccine as the Delta variant surges, and the seeming willingness of Trump’s followers to continue risking illness or worse, qualifies such persons as members of a death cult.

There were, of course, the requisite Jim Jones analogies.

But as much as I respect both Reid and Colbert (the former is a friend whose show I’ve been on several times), this position has always been wrong.

The truth is worse — and here I am speaking specifically of those who are resisting obtaining the vaccine, rather than those whose access is limited by location, poverty or issues with mobility to a vaccine center.

Stories are spilling out every day — outpourings of regret from persons who steadfastly refused to get the vaccine, now awaiting intubation, coming to realize they were wrong.

That they are bellowing contrition and asking for prayers in the hopes they won’t die proves this is no suicide cult.

Few of the 900-plus at Jonestown drank the Kool-Aid only to sputter at the last minute, “Oh wait, you mean it’s cyanide?! Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

The members of Heaven’s Gate didn’t don their black Nikes, take phenobarbital, tie plastic bags over their heads, cover up with shrouds, and then start praying to see another sunrise.

They laid down to die, expecting to be spirited away in a UFO behind the Hale-Bopp comet and have everlasting life.

That is a suicidal death cult.

This is different, something more dangerous, sociopathic, and sadistic — not suicidal but homicidal.

As I said last year, this is a mass murder movement.

These are people who didn’t and don’t want to die. They simply thought there was no way they would.

To them, COVID was a virus of the big city and those who live there, of old people, or persons with multiple pre-existing conditions (of which they didn’t believe their cholesterol-lined arteries and COPD qualified as examples).

It was only killing the weak.

And they were strong — cowboy strong, to be precise, or at least Sturgis motorcycle ridin’ strong.

High on a delusional mix of rugged individualism, toxic masculine bravado, pseudoscientific faith in vitamin supplements, and a belief that God would pull them through, they were convinced they were safe.

Only others were at risk — the less good people.

The ones who don’t do CrossFit, or go to a megachurch, or better still, a CrossFit in a megachurch.

The ones who don’t settle for the “power of positive thinking,” like FOX host Jesse Watters, who insisted that’s all he would need should he become infected.

The ones who place their faith in science rather than a Bible study group.

And for people like that? Who cares? To the right, those people don’t count.

Indifference to the suffering of others is why Trump’s minions wouldn’t mask. They didn’t care that they might infect people, despite being asymptomatic.

When you would tell them repeatedly that wearing a mask was less for the wearer than for others, they shrugged. If other folks are at risk, they should stay home and let the rest of us get back to the gym, the hairdresser, concerts, movies, and tailgate parties before the big game. I mean, this giant foam finger isn’t gonna wave itself.

Their freedom to do as they pleased was more important than other people’s lives.

Suicidal people don’t act or think that way. Homicidal people do.

Indifference to others is why they routinely violated social distancing requirements in stores, getting in people’s faces, coughing on them, yelling at them, just for being asked to wear a mask in keeping with a retailer’s policy or state or local mandate.

Because although they weren’t concerned about getting COVID themselves, they ultimately didn’t care if you did.

Suicidal people don’t act or think that way. Homicidal people do.

Most who refused to mask (and reject the vaccine now) are not full-blown virus deniers. Instead, they simply didn’t believe — and still don’t — that it can harm people like them.

But if you know it can harm others who aren’t like you, and you still refuse to take the measures that reduce the risk of spreading the virus to them, you are a sociopath.

If you refuse a vaccine when you have no valid health reason to do so (as almost no one does), thereby keeping the virus alive longer by increasing the risk of mutations, you are saying that other people’s lives don’t matter to you.

And if you expected to be infected, hospitalized, and die, you would never take these risks.

That’s what these ICU confessions signify — that they care about their own lives quite a bit, whatever they might think of others.

Now that it’s caught up with them, the tears flow, and the panic sets in their faces as they wonder what they’ve done to themselves.

Because they never wanted to die, they just didn’t care if other people did.

#covid 19 #trump supporters

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gleekto · 4 years

Text

Roommate Wanted (10/11)

Summary/Prompt (stolen from @hazelandglasz - thank you!): Straight guy (Blaine) worries he’s being homophobic to gay roommate (Kurt), then realizes he’s fallen for him. NYADA AU. Blaine POV.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six (Interlude (Kurt POV), Seven, Eight, Nine

Ten

Blaine knew the time would come sooner or later. It’s 8pm on Friday night, and Kurt has a date. With Adam. It’s been a week since their last date, and from what Blaine knows, Kurt’s barely seen Adam at all, other than a few chats in the NYADA hallways. But it was inevitable that they would, of course, go on another date at some point.

“So I’m going out with Adam tonight?” Kurt says as if it’s a question.

“Oh! Oh yeah, okay. Of course. I mean that makes sense. It’s the weekend and-” Blaine can feel himself rambling.“Well, of course you are.”

Kurt is wearing a bright yellow button down shirt, ridiculously tight grey jeans (Is he trying to tease Blaine?), and a blue scarf to complement the yellow. Or maybe to cover up any remnant of the purple now fading on his neck from last Saturday. Wouldn’t want to have that awkward conversation. “I’m not sure when I”ll be home but-”

“Yeah,” Blaine dismisses. “I won’t wait up.” Blaine is sitting curled up on the corner of the couch. He folds his arms on his chest and closes his eyes as the door clicks shut. Blaine remembers interrupting Kurt and Adam kissing on this couch. How flustered he got. It’s obviously uncomfortable to walk in on anyone making out, PG as it may have been, so there’s that. But also, he knows it now, it was Kurt. Kissing. And a week after that gentle stirring, it was somehow Kurt kissing him, not quite as PG. Where he wanted to be. Whatever was unclear about identity in that moment on the dance floor, that he wanted Kurt was obvious. A week later? Still obvious. The thing about falling for someone is that it makes it pretty easy to define the label. He knows he’s gay. And now he’s also painfully jealous.

...

Blaine can’t concentrate - forget homework, forget practicing piano, even forget those websites. Kurt is on a date with Adam and he’s sitting on his couch reimagining great romance scenes where he runs to Adam’s apartment, sweeps in and convinces Kurt that he’s his handsome prince, and not Adam, and they ride off on his horse and make love on fields of lilac into the night. But this is not a movie and they are in gritty New York City and Kurt may or may not have sex with Adam. And he will simply have to live with it and his feelings until this all passes. He can at least start by telling Kurt he’s gay. Tomorrow.

Tonight, Kurt is on a date with Adam and he’ll just cope by baking cookies, the cure for all things. There’s something meditative about the pouring and mixing and dropping little dough balls on to the greased pan that calms his mind, especially when accompanied with the Dear Evan Hansen soundtrack, and a glass of red wine. This dough is delicious, Blaine thinks as he steals a small scoop from the first batch. It’s 9pm when the first tray goes in, and he figures he’ll have time for at least four dozen by the time the wine makes him drowsy enough to fall asleep.

The timer dings at 9:13 pm, he grabs his oven mittens, and opens the oven door. Perfect golden brown. He picks up the tray and turns to put them on the counter island behind him.

“Hi Blaine.”

“Oh my god, Kurt.” Blaine almost drops the tray but slides them on to the trivet just in time. “You scared me. I didn’t expect you-”

“Good catch,” Kurt gestures to the cookies. “I wasn’t trying to scare you - the music is kind of loud. Would hate to be responsible for mass cookie suicide.”

“Why are you-”

“I broke it off with Adam.” Kurt bites his lower lip, and looks at Blaine almost guiltily.

“You did?” Blaine’s heart starts racing but he wills himself to stay calm. This isn’t about him. “I’m-”

“Happy?” Kurt tries.

“No,” Blaine defends himself quickly. Too quickly. “I wouldn’t be happy about something like that. I’m surprised, actually.”

“Surprised?” Does Kurt look disappointed? “I thought maybe you knew-”

“Is this a trick question?” Blaine searches Kurt’s face for a clue. “How would I know? I don’t think you said anything -”

“Because all week, you’ve been -” Kurt pauses and looks at Blaine knowingly.

Oh. “Working to earn my gay membership card?” Blaine suggests and Kurt huffs out a laugh.

“I was going to say flirty. And I’ve been flirty. And last Saturday night was-”

“I think we established that it was hot.” Blaine leans forward on the counter island between them.

“Yeah,” Kurt exhales. They’re on either side of the counter, bowl of cookie dough and a hot tray of cookies between them, staring each other down. “Exactly.”

Blaine scoops up a drop of cookie dough on his index finger. “Try this. It’s so good. Seriously.” He holds up his finger but Kurt doesn’t take it. Instead, he looks at Blaine, leans forward, and sucks the cookie dough covered finger into his mouth.

Blaine feels the blood rush all over his body. “Wow. Okay. Okay,” He says under his breath, closing his eyes trying to take in the moment. When his finger is licked clean, Kurt lets go, smiling and sheepish, and his eyelashes flutter down, suddenly shy. Really.

“It’s good,” Kurt’s still looking down, smiling and blushing. He composes himself and looks back up. “So I thought when I went out tonight, you realized that-”

“That I was impossibly jealous?” Blaine finishes. “I did realize that. I wanted to be on that date - dinner, a movie, whatever we wanted.”

“That makes two of us.”

“You were jealous?”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “No. That I wanted to be on a date with you. And so,” Kurt pauses. “I guess that’s not really fair to Adam.”

“I guess not.” Blaine hopes that Kurt can’t hear his heart thumping. He can feel it on every beat. “I hope you did get to tell him though that I’ve gotten over my homophobia?” Blaine smirks.

“Don’t be mean,” Kurt reprimands. Sort of.

“So.” Blaine says.

“So,” Kurt repeats. “You want to go on a date with me. And I want to go on a date with you. So,” Kurt is smiling, happy. “Would you like to go on a date?”

“Now?”

“The night is young,” Kurt holds out his hand.

“No.” Blaine shakes his head but steps closer to Kurt.

“No? As in you’re too tired?”

“No. As in I don’t want to go out. I’m not too tired. I want to stay here.” Blaine is in Kurt’s space now. Kurt nods, but doesn’t move. The silence is charged.

Kurt closes his eyes. “We’re roommates, Blaine. We have a good thing. Don’t you think-”

“I don’t want to take things slowly,” Blaine says plainly. “I want you.”

“I haven’t had sex before.” Kurt looks down, inches from Blaine’s face.

“I haven’t been gay before. I think we’re even.” Blaine picks up Kurt’s pinky with his own, swings their hands gently. “Show me.”

#gleekto writes #roommate wanted #thanks for the story love

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lux-pain-project · 4 years

Text

Episode 01 - Mystery Pt. 1 of 4 Kisaragi Gakuen - Morning

<Previous] [Masterpost] [Next>

Touhou-Dou - Home

< Narrator > Atsuki is dreaming.

< Atsuki > As countless images arbitrarily flood my mind, I realized I had been crying and screaming out.

I was screaming and crying from the depths of my soul. Shouting, in remorse, sadness and sudden bursts of anger. I saw my younger self, sitting on top lush green grass, staring at my mother’s face. My mother, who was both kind and beautiful, was hit by a drunk truck driver. Resulting in her trajic death. I can recall the sad eyes of my father, who died two years later. On his deathbed, he wore a weak smile and told me that the world is filled with sadess and sorrow. Watching these images of my parents, I understood how much I must have loved the two of them. There was no reason, not a single one, for them to die. I remember my little sister, who always wore a beaming smile on her face. She was a girl with the most beautiful smile, intelligent and cheerful.

That little sister, was reduced to a pitiful corpse that laid on the floor of our pitch black room.

The floor had turned into a literal sea of blood, nothing of what was originally there was left.

During our sleep, these strange-looking things had suddenly appeared, attacked us and then literally devoured my sister.

I let out a scream. A battle cry, in order to burn everything in front of me down to the ground.

Against those hateful strange-looking things, against God, against everything. I’ll definitely make them pay. Pay for the price of this curse.

< Narrator > Atsuki jumped out of bed.

< Atsuki > I felt a lump, tasting like metal, tightening deep inside my chest. Filling my mouth with a bitter aftertaste.

Cold sweats sticks to my body, it almost feels like I’m covered in blood.

It has been a long time since the last time I’ve seen a dream. I can’t remember dreaming a single time after joining FORT.

< Narrator > Unconsciously, Atsuki touches his left arm.

Atsuki himself also had half of his face and his left arm devoured and ended up losing consiousness in a pool of blood

< Atsuki > I couldn’t do a thing. During the moments those I loved were so brutally killed, I could only tremble in fear and wasn’t even able to lift a single finger.

FORT - {Call}

< Nora > Good morning, did you sleep well?

Well then, I’ll start the briefing without further ado.

About the Target. Other than the fact that they have a love for art, we know nothing about them, be it their nationality, age or gender.

All we know at FORT is that the target is likely to be in Kisaragi City.

We know this because of that incident in Shanghai that was caused by a Silent Infectee.

In just three months that man managed to infect 10.000 people in Shanghai with Silent.

This caused thousands of crimes and mass suicides to happen on a daily basis.

However, when we finally identified the man and looked into him, it turned out that he was not the Original Infectee.

This means he too, was infected with Silent by someone else.

Next, when we looked into the infection route, Kisaragi City caught our eye.

By which I mean to say that the man from Shanghai, was infected in Kisaragi City.

Atsuki, your mission for the time being, is to identify those who appear to be infected with Silent.

It appears that a Silent Infectee might be involved in the incident from last night.

It might be worth looking into who they were trying to get in contact with.

The E-mail they sent was sent to the school you’ll be attending from today, right? Atsuki.

Truly a nice opportunity. Could you try and look into that for me?

I'll make sure to contact you if I find anything new on my side as well.

Aah, and also, about that curious girl from last night… We're currently looking into her.

it's uncanny how she knew you have powers.

Atsuki, if you find out anything with Sigma, make sure to contact me.

New Information Has Been Added To FORT: >Click Here<

(New) Locations Available: Kisaragi Gakuen - Courtyard

Courtyard

< ??? > “Good morning, Matsumura-sensei”

< ???(Aoi) > “Yes, good morning”

< Narrator > A petite, female teacher stood in front of the school gate.

She’s checking all the students coming to school, one by one. Her expression looks honest as she makes sure to look at them properly while she greets them.

Suddenly her gaze stops on a pair of students.

< ???(Aoi) > “Hold it right there, you two”

< Narrator > She turns and calls out to the two, a boy and a girl, who are happily holding hands together.

The soft and romantic atmosphere that was between them up until that moment, shatters in an instant.

< ???(Aoi) > “It’s not proper conduct to be holding hands first thing in the morning!”

< ??? > “W-We’re sorry!”

< Narrator > The two students quickly let go of each other and ran into the school building.

< ???(Aoi) > Wait, I haven’t seen you before, have I?

Choose: [I’ve just transferred here today] [*Sigh* Is that so?]

[I’ve just transferred here today]

< ???(Aoi) > Ara, that’s right. It’s very nice to meet you.

Ahem, well then, let me start over.

My name is Matsumura Aoi, I’m the Japanese language teacher here.

Pleased to make your acquaintance.

< Narrator > As she looks at Atsuki, Matsumura-sensei’s cheeks suddenly turned red. Whether she realized this or not, she began to talk in a fluster.

< Aoi > U-Um...

However, I suppose transferring during this time of the year must be quite hard for you.

< ??? > “Good morning, Matsumura-sensei”

< Aoi > Good morning.

Ah, that’s right.

If I’m not mistaken, your homeroom teacher Yamato-sensei, has the day off today...

So if there’s anything you need, don’t hold back and come see me, alright?

Well then, I hope you’ll enjoy your time here.

[*Sigh* Is that so?]

< ???(Aoi) > Ara? Was I mistaken?

But, I’m sure I heard that Yamato-sensei would be receiving a transfer student in his class today.

This isn’t you?

< Atsuki > ... No, that’s me.

< ???(Aoi) > So it IS you. My name is Matsumura Aoi, I’m the Japanese language teacher here.

Pleased to make your acquaintance.

< Narrator > As she looks at Atsuki, Matsumura-sensei’s cheeks suddenly turned red. Whether she realized this or not, she began to talk in a fluster.

< Aoi > U-Um... However, I suppose transferring during this time of the year must be quite hard for you.

< ??? > “Good morning, Matsumura-sensei”

< Aoi > Good morning. Ah, that’s right.

If I’m not mistaken, your homeroom teacher Yamato-sensei, has the day off today...

So if there’s anything you need, don’t hold back and come see me, alright?

Well then, I hope you’ll enjoy your time here.

New Information Has Been Added To FORT: >Click Here<

(New) Locations Available: Kisaragi Gakuen - Computer Lab Kisaragi Gakuen - Art Room

Computer Lab

< Narrator > There’s just a single male student in the Computer Lab this early in the morning.

Said student is sitting at one of the computers, working rapidly with expert movement.

< ???(Shinji) > “Alright, done”

< Narrator > It seems he finished transfering his data to a portable terminal.

The student gets up from his seat and trots over to the exit. He notices Atsuki, who is standing in front of the door.

< ???(Shinji) > Oh hi! Are you also studying this morning?

Hmmm, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before, are you a transfer student?

Well, not that it really matter, does it?

I mean, this is the first time the both of us have met, so there’s really no point in talking about stuff like that.

I'm in a bit of a hurry anyway, so be seeing you!

< Atsuki > Those people from last night sent an E-mail adressed to someone in this school. Who would they be sending it to?

Is there someone in this school, who is also infected with Silent like them?

If there IS an infectee in school, we’d be talking about a Silent with considerable power.

Which can only mean that the Original is a very powerful one.

< Narrator > Atsuki takes a look inside the PC to see if there are any relatively new Residual Shinen.

If their companion received and read their E-mail, there should be Residual Shinen left.

Invoke Sigma & Obtain: [Suicide Location]

[Suicide Location] A Shinen that was found in the Computer Lab. It’s a small Shinen that appeared when emotions lacking in any large Shinen were stirred.

< Atsuki > The Residual Shinen belonged to the young man who was just here.

From the contents of the Shinen, I can tell that he saw the E-mail in question.

However, he has nothing to do with the people from last night’s incident.

He came to school early and probably found the E-mail by accident.

Then he wrote down the adress and went home.

Judging by the contents of his Shinen Trace, it's clear he's going to investigate on his own.

< Narrator > When Atsuki tried to examine the computer he discovered that the E-mail and its data had been deleted.

It was probably done by the student from just now.

Art Room

< Narrator > Inside the classroom is a single female student who’s been working on a painting all morning.

There’s no one there aside from her. The silence is only filled with the sound of brushstrokes as she is completely focused on the canvas in front of her.

She then hold the brush in front of her and starts inspects the whole composition.

That’s when she finally seems to notice that Atsuki had entered the room.

< ???(Yayoi) > ... Good morning.

Did you also arrive early to work on your painting?

... wait, hm? I don’t think I’ve seen you before, have I?

This is our first time meeting, isn’t it...?

Ah, I see now. You must be the transfer student, right?

Our teacher said that we’d be getting a new student from today.

My name is Kamishiro Yayoi, it's a pleasure to meet you. �� If I'm not mistaken, we're in the same class.

< Narrator > Atsuki also introduced himself briefly. Then asked her about her reason for arriving early to paint.

< Yayoi > I came in early, because I was hoping that Arthur-sensei would be back by now.

Arthur Mays. He’s a world-renowned painter known for his contemporary art.

Such a famous person, is teaching us as a temporary teacher.

Don’t you think it’s a wonderful opportunity?

However is seems he hasn’t been feeling well as of late, so he doesn’t come in often......

< Narrator > Atsuki couldn’t help but notice the painting in the corner.

Because although it’s faint, he definitely felt the presence of a black, distorted Shinen.

Invoke Sigma & Obtain: [Fading Colors] [He Seems Kind]

[Fading Colors] A Shinen that’s stuck to a painting leaning against a corner of the room. It’s a small one, but there’s something abnormally dark and distorted about it slipping in and out of view.

[He Seems Kind] The first impression Yayoi had of Atsuki. She feels that he must be a gentle person.

Fusion

Obtain: [People Change]

<Yayoi > Ah, that’s right! I’m the one on duty today...

I’ll be going on ahead to the classroom. Well then, I’ll see you in a while!

< Atsuki > The Residual Shinen that was attached to that painting, was full of despair and deep sorrow

The same as the Shinen from the man that I met at Crimson Hill last night

Which probably means that the man from last night was Arthur, the painter.

And since I can sense the presence of Silent from him, he’s the most similar to our Target.

New Information Has Been Added To FORT: >Click Here<

FORT - {Call}

< Nora > Have you found any information that might help us find the E-mail’s recipient?

What do you think of that boy who was at the computer this morning?

< Narrator > Atsuki answered that judging from the boy’s Residual Shinen, he’s not involved with the incident from last night

Then reports that he's certain the boy has seen the mail in question, because it had already been deleted.

< Nora > I see, then let’s follow these two routes.

If that boy is not the recipient, then there must be someone in that school who IS involved.

So the first route is to investigate and find them

The other route is to follow that boy and take a look into his mind.

We need to know the details of what he saw of the mail’s contents.

Alright then, Atsuki. Move according to those two paths.

(New) Locations Available: Kisaragi Gakuen - Classroom

Classroom

< Aoi > Good morning, everyone.

< Narrator > Aoi said as she took a look around the classroom.

< Aoi > Ara, it looks like Naruse-kun is absent today.

Alright then class representatives, please make sure to take notes

for those who aren’t here today and show them to them later, okay?

< ???(Mika) > Sensei~, I’m sorry for being late!

< Aoi > Ara, Nozaki-san, you were absent as well?

< ???(Rui) > Sensei, it looks like Ryou is also running late!

< Aoi > Eh?! Ara, ara, he is? I’m so sorry!

So Unami-san wasn’t present either.

< Narrator > With her cheeks turned red, Aoi looked a bit embarrassed as she said so.

In that moment, Aoi gaze fell on Atsuki.

< Aoi > You just transferred and I’ve already made a fool of myself... I need to be more careful......

It might be a bit weird to ask you this right after just now,

but what do you think of this school so far, Saijou-kun?

Choose: [I like it] [I don’t really know yet]

[I like it]

< Aoi > Is that so? Thank goodness.

It might be difficult at first, but I hope we can get along.

The people in this class are all very nice, so I’m sure they’ll lend a hand if you need it.

Well then, let’s start today’s class!

Saijou-kun, do you have a textbook? Ah, looks like you do.

Then, please open page 276 of your textbooks.

[I don’t really know yet]

< Aoi > I can understand that... I mean it IS still your first day after transferring.

But, the people in this class are all very nice.

So if if you run into any trouble, I’m sure they’ll be happy to lend you a hand.

Well then, let’s start today’s class!

Saijou-kun, do you have a textbook? Ah, looks like you do.

Then, please open page 276 of your textbooks.

< Aoi > Since this is your first day, I’ll explain it again briefly for you later Saijou-kun.

This work is called “Collection of Young Herbs” written by “Shimazaki Touson“.

It uses the seven-and-five syllable meter rhythm

and is said to be an examplary poem anthology by the Japanese Romatic School.

Since last week, we’ve been working on a particular poem of the anthology.

It’s an especially famous one even among their whole collection, called: “First Love.

I’m sure you’ve also heard of it before, haven’t you Saijou-kun?

It starts like this: “You had swept back your bangs for the first time~”

Does that ring a bell?

Perhaps the next poem will come to mind more naturally?

Touson overlaps the seasonal springtime with the springtime of life

and composes poems of the sorrows youth...

< ???(Mika) > Looks like this explaination is going to take a while. Again...

Well then, I guess, everyone’s just going to do homework like usual then.

< ???(Rui) > Yup.

< Aoi > And so..., this wonderfull way of projecting love is.......

~ 45 Minutes Later ~

< Aoi > Well then, we’re at a nice place to stop, so let’s end here for today.

Saijou-kun, if you have any questions about today’s lesson,

you can come to me at any time, I’ll be in the staff room.

Alright class, next time we'll start working on "Rashomon",

so please make sure to come prepared.

< ???(Mika) > So you’re the new transfer student. I’m Nozaki Mika! It’s nice to meet you!

Aoi-sensei’s lesson wasn’t too intense for you, was it?

She’s takes her job seriously and makes sure to to teach us well,

but she has a tendency to go off on a tangent.

Especially when words like “Love” are involved. She’s already explained that part multiple times.

Alas, since we’re doing love poems this week, it looks like things will continue like this for a while *sigh*

I’m sure she’ll start the next class with the exact same explanation.

But I guess stuff like this doesn’t happen too often, so class will be back to normal before you know it.

Well, see you!

< Aoi > So how was your first class? It wasn’t too tiring?

It must be different from your previous school, so you might feel a bit bewildered at first,

but it’s alright to take it slow and get used to things bit by bit.

Oh right, now that I think about it, I almost forgot!

Please hold on a moment!

< Narrator > Aoi said as she turned around to Yamase Rui who was in the back of the classroom.

< Aoi > “Yamase-san, do you have a moment?”

< ???(Rui) > “Oh yeah, sure!”

< Rui > What is it, Sensei?!

Hm? Oh? You’re the new transfer student, Saijou-kun, right?

So, what do you need me for, Sensei?

< Aoi > I would like you to show him around the school during lunchtime.

< Rui > Hmmm, I don’t mind I guess. So, what do you wanna see?

< Aoi > ...um, Yamase-san. I didn’t mean like that, I meant show him as much as possible...

< Rui > Sure, I got ya, Sensei!

Since you help me out with homework, and take good care of me and stuff, I’ll do it.

Alright, let’s go!

< Narrator > With that, Yamase Rui takes a hold of Atsuki’s arm and starts walking.

This kind of behaviour might be natural for Rui, but seeing her link arms as if she was holding her boyfriend’s arm, Aoi’s face turned red unconsciously.

Then, she started feeling just a little bit uneasy about asking Yamase Rui.

END Ep01 - Pt.1 of 4

<Previous] [Masterpost] [Next>

#Lux-Pain #Lux Pain #ルクス・ペイン #Lux Pain Project #Lux-Pain-Project #Episode_01 #Mystery #Game Translation #Re-translation #Man translating class lectures is hard #because I don't know what they're talking about half the time #Long time no see #Have a little something #Also I forgot how to resize pctures #so the Sigma parts are huge #Sorry m(._.)m

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empty-dream · 4 years

Text

Just watched 13 Reasons Why S4

Ended up making a full blown commentary per episode because this is finally the last season and I’ve been enjoying this mess since S1. I even forgot that it was released until a friend brought it up to me. So in short,

Ep1

OKAY WHO DIES AGAIN HUH??

Clay, narrating: *I'm good at hiding shits so my parents don't notice at all." His parents: *concernedly looking at him pale and mushing food on the dining table*

The concequences of investigating murder cases and creating conspiracies instead of studying your ass off because it's a damn school really caught up huh.

Charlie holy shit I love you he's so chill and good.

It's been years I still can't believe Justin is really adopted by the Jensens. Funny that now the table is reversed, with Justin finally actually doing better and taking care of the increasingly-ill Clay.

SCOTT!! OH MY GOD! SCOTT REED!! OH MY FUCKING GOD!! AAAAAAAAAAAAA HOLY SHIIITTTTTTTTT AAAAAAAAA!!!

Wow my headcanon is approved, he already graduated by S3. No reason he didn't hang out with the gang after all the shits in S2 if he was no longer around in the first place.

He's still so nice even in Clay's trippy nightmare. Is that what Clay remembers about him? Well not really surprising, considering Scott actually was worried about him in S2.

Good god finally Clay meets a therapist- Wait a minute that's the guy from CSI:NY?!?! Isn't Clay just gonna get clobbered instead.

Okay I knew they are really close and I do adore their relationship so much but HOLY SHIT THEY ACTUALLY GO AT IT WITH ALEX AND ZACH???

Alex: *panicking over the kiss* Zach: Ayy don't worry let's just continue perhaps-suicidally hanging out on dangerous rooftops that you were almost fall to your death from. Alex: ????

Ep2

That narration of Clay ranting about college applications. I'll drink to that bruh.

Ya I too make my applications and other supposedly important matters at 3AM instead of any other more sensible time.

Oh my fucking god that is the creepiest smile I've ever see.

I feel like as Justin gets better and better with his life, Clay goes worse.

Justin is so excited about going to college! You deserve the future man.

The old-time stoners and drunkards are rehabbed or dead. Enter Zach.

Winston: *eyes and ears up to your shit 24/7*

Nobody likes Tyler in S1 but now everybody likes him.

Okay. Cops doing shit jobs at protecting. This feels too real with this situation right now.

Clay's adventure to put the trash into the trash bin.

Omg they got the paint to the lab this is going real CSI.

Idk about u but at this point I don't exactly want to pay attention to Jessica/Justin problems anymore.

I know Zach and Clay don't get along and that's why I need their adventure together.

Clay drunk-puking on Justin. Well well well how the turntables.

The return of Monet!!

"I have 2.8. If I work hard, I'll get 2.9" Winston omg same.

Tht held gaze between Alex and Winston.. Is this slow burn fanfiction???????

Yes Mr. CSI it will definitely get worse.

I know writing about your feelings can make you feel better but probably not in your college essay form.

Ep3

I'm starting to think Clay is the one who dies in the end? Idk tho.

I guess the toll of busting ass trying to save everyone by yourself is catastrophically high, huh, Clay? Funny that he now goes from 100 in S3 to 0 in here and that's actually realistic.

Alex and Winston are really pining each other with Zach in the background lmao.

"You don't wanna go on the Valentine Dance with me? Even as friends?" Well sometimes there are moments when you just don't go back to being friends. It's an actual normal thing.

And besides the last time Alex goes with Jess for something she wanna do, he ends up murdering somebody. So.

"Hey Zach. Hey punch me. Hey you pussy now? Hey hey. Bitch." *poke* *poke* *poke*

No Zach he's trying to save all of your asses. You can't just say that.

Charlie is really just there trying to do his best in this shitshow and like Justin I wanna laugh but also am proud.

Everyone: *being paranoid and unto each other* Alex and Winston: *having the date of their life*

I wish everyone doesn't have this level of trust issues but then again we won't have a shitstorm drama like this.

When did this become "what is love?" philosophy class?

"You know love but you love so fiercely and sometimes it hurts."Wow Mr. CSI you hit the mark.

How many parties can the Liberty High hold in a year?

"You go with Charlie to get back to Justin, right?" Wow Diego you HIT the mark.

I still have problems with Ani as a character, but I do like her casual banters with Clay.

You know, with all these trust issues, I'm surprised nobody actually tries to peek on other's phone. Like, I know that's low. But, you know, faster solution. And better than having mass hallucinations.

Oh God the football team really is a bunch of jerks. Good fucking thing Scott is outta here.

Alex and Winston almost die like couples in a cheap slasher movie.

"Fuck Love." Clay Jensen, 2019 (according to the movie timeline)

Ep4

Why is Charlie talking? Why is he wearing the football jersey? Who on earth dies?? Is it Zach? Justin? Somebody else from the football team? But the content of your speech man...

Ah yeah. Clay did survive a great big deal of many ugly shits. Single-handedly thanks to adrenaline, mostly.

Jess got a point tho. Ani could have followed Clay to stop him, by herself or with the gang. What did she do? She spied on Winston and Alex, and then went back to the dance. So much for handling anything themselves.

Or maybe, the gang shouldn't have let Ani and Clay take care of it themselves.

Does anybody in this show ever figure out Clay has dead people hallucinations?

Domestic Jensen family is my everything.

Charlie really out there bribing Zach with his homemade cookies I-

Ah yeah, I kinda forgot that in reality Alex and Winston have a really difficult situation. With Bryce and Monty stuff.

"Looking back on your time at Liberty, do you have any regrets?" Really? Isn't that all they have?

"Who do you trust most in your life and why?" Everybody: *immediately side-eyeing each other*

Clay c'mon wtf Justin is really just worried sick and trying to help you. Aaand he's gone.

Jess you don't put your hands into something without checking it first...

Why would you only send 2 adults to supervise 30-50 kids on a camping wildlife trip? They wouldn't be able to do shit.

"I thought you were a football player!" "I AM a football player! And so are YOU!" Gold.

Dream!Monty and Dream!Clay really sit like that and I almost laugh were it not for the fact that I do that too. It's strange to see that for once, they talk normally, heart-to-heart, without the usual snickering, chiding, all that venom.

Oh shit they really make Monty and Clay mirror each other like that. They both protect people they love but have tendencies to snap, one way or another.

Zach, dude, I know you've been a real good friend. But Alex almost died. Twice. Because of your drunken ways. And you laughed. Didn't you spend an entire season trying hard to not let him die again? What's wrong with you?

When did this become a horror movie?

The Standalls :((

CHARLIE MY MAN WITH HIS COOKIES. And incidentally, a wild Zach appears.

"So are we gonna fall apart or trust each other now!" Justin my man.

Clay dude that would have been an amazing entrance were it not for the fact you looked insane.

I can't fucking believe they just go normally at campfire like that. Two people almost died. Several got beaten. What the fuck.

Does it come from the bottom of your heart or it doubles as a threat, Clay?

Alex you had us at the first half not gonna lie.

GR A NO LA CA MP C O OKIES? ??

Wait. So who has been fucking around with the football team? Who moved Clay?? Huh??

Ep5

GUYS THERE IS A THING CALLED GPS ON THE PHONE?? What are you? 3?

Justin finally breaking down after 5 episodes being the most decent and healthy person around. Well Charlie is too but he's new, so.

Finally an obligatory meeting at Monet.

CYRUS AND THE PUNK GANG!!! God I love you guys where have you been. And you guys are computer geeks?!?!?! Perfect.

My question exactly, Clay. Good replies tho, Cy.

I'm still thinking how for a nerd, Clay knows A LOT of people and knows who to ask what.

"How am I even friends with you?" Ya Alex that's my question too. How are you suddenly bff with Zach? I don't remember you two being close in S1?

Hm. If you aren't holding his family at stake, there is no way Tony would even think to rat out.

Mr. CSI starts going CSI on Clay.

I almost forgot Charlie's last name is St. George. The cast goes by Charlie mostly so.

Justin really shows up at the party with the angry mom pose and disappointed look at Clay. The turntable, people. Flynn's voice got raspy.

Oh no no Clay you don't go there. Please don't split my Jensen-Foley brothers like that. Meanwhile the punk gang be like just watching there.

C O O KI E S??? Goddamn Charlie do you bring cookies everywhere you go??

Charlie my boy you T_T I was kinda suprised that the cookie baking actually had a sad backstory.

Clay-Zach bonding that I fucking wish for oh yeah. I definitely didn't expect it with piano and drunk singing tho.

While Clay is having the time of his life, Tony is seeing life flashes in his eyes.

Yassss he winssss!!!!

Caleb's expression when the sherrif hugs him lmfao

Nice try Sherrif but Tony knows your tricks.

"What of any of this is okay?" Wow things you'd never hear Justin says in S1.

Meanwhile, Charlie and Alex are high on weed cookies as fuck. Their conversation is the most interesting thing I've seen beside the Scott cameo till now.

The look on Justin's face when Clay pushes him :((

MY DUDES HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN ABOUT JEFF'S DEATH? WHAT HE WAS ACCUSED FOR?! You do not, under any circumstances, drive drunk.

Ep6

Clay be spitting truth.

They really be discussing Clay's chronic hero syndrome huh.

Okay. Operation Clay-Zach failed.

Weren't Zach all fuck it all yeah! kinda guy? Guess when you are the one who faces death it's not that fun anymore huh.

"One Clay Jensen is enough" Jess truth.

Do Alex and Charlie really study Spanish in front of Tony who is not helping at all? That would be embarrassing lmao.

Clay: Fuck off. Hallucination!Monty: *sits next to him*

Gotta hand it to Timothy Granaderos. He could go venomous to puppy eyed in 1 second. Amazing.

Man. School shootings are fucked up. There are many things I wonder about mankind and one of them is why is school shooting even possible?

Hallucination!Bryce: Hi I’m sorry I’m late. I hear this is time for Clay’s dead people hallucination party.

"Are you a hero or a martyr?" Wow they really throw the question.

And here is Clay sitting under the desk between his two most hated dead people hallucinations whispering moral dilemmas to him.

Meanwhile Winston and Zach got high.

Charlie helping Alex to breath.

The talk with Estella and Tyler.

"No offense, you are cool, but I don't wanna die with you." Zach chill lmao.

Are.. Are you sure outing that to Winston is a good call, Zach? For a guy who was super paranoid that his gang would narc him, he sure is loose mouthed himself.

I like how everyone from Tyler to Zach to Winston, admits that Alex is a really kind guy.

Wow Tony did you really expect anyone could do anything in that situation, in fucking Evergreen situation, for that matter?

Charlie is a great friend wow.

Cl-CLAY DON'T GO OUT that is EXACTLY what you are NOT supposed to do!!!

Goddamnit Clay. Holy shit Clay.

Dylan Minnette really worked hard in this scene.

.......... WAIT A MINUTE IT'S NOW ACTUALLY CHARLIE ALEX????? Tony be just walking in.

Ep7

Clay really got into a psych ward. Talk about darkest hour. And it’s only ep 6?

Wow Ty that's some brave lines.

Which hallucination-induced person is Clay talking to before Ani gets there?

Ok that therapy session made me tear up.

These kids are having college interviews at the worst time possible. They are all fucking breaking down one way or another.

And Charlie just, really never gives up on Alex huh.

What's most important to Clay is his friends. Real quick to answer that question huh.

God Justin lashing out at the Jensens. It's the first time he does it and it hurts.

Zach holy fuck. I appreciate you didn't out it but holy fuck you didn't have to do that are you trying to die

Clay-Tony combo is back baby I miss them so much. Although perhaps Tony you would mind a bit about Clay's health because clearly he was out of it.

This is so short. I too really don't like application essays and interviews and the inevitable revisit of the sadder parts of my life because of them.

Ep8

When did this become sci-fi apocalyptic story?

God I miss the time when Clay's dreams are just Inception-styled trippy shit with Scott randomly says hello and gets him water.

Okay. Everyone's got their own way to cope with existential and moral crisis huh.

You know what, I would like one movie out of this sci-fi dream.

I knew it Tyler was a bait to smoke out illegal gun dealers. Is that... An okay thing to do for a high schooler? Sounds fucked up, all things considered.

Yaaay Justin's got the college! I'm super happy!

Wow Estella good question.

Wow Tyler good statement. If they trust each other a bit more, everything would have been a bit better.

Ah shit. Justin relapses again.

Does Tony need to be pummelled first before he finally goes all off to finish his opponent or what?

Is this going Big Brother Is Watching

What the fuck. That locker fight scene is disgusting.

Jess and Clay might throw shades at each other but together they share one brain cell.

"I think it's a walkout, Sir" Tyler lmao

Wow Zach and Alex heart-to-heart.

Cyrus really steps on some pedestal to make his point.

Aaand Zach and Alex really go all out on "doing it right" huh.

They really have students vs cops riot at this time. Talk about timing.

It's nice to see the punk gang enjoying the fighting again.

Dude what happens if you don't have anything on your bag tho.

Aaaah the punk gang with Tyler again!!

"Why are you with me and not with Charlie?" Zach ouch that hurts.

Zach no no no Zach get out of there too Zach pls

Clay really becomes 2nd in command to Jess huh.

Charlie tries to save Clay but gets whacked on the head instead.

Tony you came back!! Oh so that college scout was.. Oh.

Oh shit Clay. Oh. Shit. I should have realized that. Goddamn.

Ep9

"I like sleep." Charlie me too.

God Alex and Charlie literally sleep together jaldjwaownaljewoalsj that some cute shit.

Wow Clay really takes Mr. CSI's advice to round up the gang and confesses. That's a step.

Charlie sometimes has a good idea, huh.

The Jensens meeting is probably the reason why the idea of parenthood scares me.

Also Clay and Justin really put the practice of "tell the parents the less-harsh-but-still-harsh truth, then ask them to get prom back" by the book. And it's awkward.

Aww Charlie coming out to his dad and the response he gets... When you put the rich fams like Dempseys, Walkers and Saint Georges together, the last one is really the only healthy one huh.

Way to go Jess!

Ah I forgot Alex has an older brother.

Aaaahhh Charlie has dinner with the Standalls! Their reaction is so sweet!

"Does he make you happy?" "Yeah. A lot." AHDKWJWOAKDUWLAOEL I mean after everything that has happened to Alex, man I am so happy he can say that with a fond smile.

WHAT THE FUCK HAHAHAHHA CHARLIE WHAT THE FUCK HOLY SHIT LMFAO I THOUGHT THIS WAS JUST AN TRIPPY ANIMATED IMAGINATION THING and Alex is so done with his extra shit.

Wow Ani you do karaoke good, asking Jess out even better.

OH MY GOD IT ESCALATED. Also Alex is right that one is creepy Charlie.

I thought by special doughnut Caleb means some diet-related stuff fit to Tony's menu for fighting. Why didn't I expect a literal Will You Go To Prom doughnuts?

CHARLIE PLEASE STOP AHAHAHAHA you dumb rich kid where did you get all those lamps and prop candles.

"Would you love me any less?" Aww Clay knows Justin loves him.

"You three all look adorable" Ya Jess, same.

Tony really out there doing the "I'm here because he's here" to Caleb.

Clay, Alex, and Charlie be like judging Zach hard.

Oh right that one kid from Cyrus's gang is gay and he brought his boyfriend!

Zach: You two sitting here like it's a funeral. Also Zach: *proceeds to continue sitting as well*

"We deserve to live." Finally something from Zach's mouth that I can agree for this season.

I love that Tony and Caleb are such good friends to Clay.

And now it's Winston turn for dead people hallucination.

..... The door to the other side again.. :'''((

CHARLIE AND ALEX WON THE PROM KINGS AAAAAAHHHHHH I mean with all those extra efforts, it'd be hard to not to. And there goes Alex finally giving in to dance.

I don't like Luke the football guy when he's the enemy but I like him when he's a friend. He's a hype man lmao.

Alex I'm so happy for you man. I'm glad you are finally happy. My heart was tight at the dance part .

Everyone: *dances* Clay: *sits there, monologuing philosophically*

I like that Clay and Ani finally being honest that they don't fit each other romantically. As romance goes there is not much romantic tension between them. And they have way too many flawed traits that when paired, would turn the relationship sour and possibly toxic in the end.

Justin do u like to show up and make everyone step aside for you or what.

I like that Clay was just watching from a distance. Then at last minute decided to join the crowd with his mother, whom he had a few trust issues with in all seasons.

Charlie: "Foundry's gay?!" Alex: "Mind's blown" Me: Same.

There has been nothing wrong going on in one episode, aside from the Zach one that's timely stopped by Charlie and Alex. I'm suspicious.

Ah. Yes. Of course.

Oh my god Justin's the one dead huh?

Ep10

Oh thank God he hasn't died. Yet.

Oh God Justin no. No no no.

Get your shit together Zach. Even Charlie tells you that.

No no no not like this not after everything oh god.

Somebody would you actually please run after Clay too.

Oh my god Clay.

Oh my god Alex you. Even when he admits it to Winston, he still covers for Jess. I- oh god.

It's been only 15 minutes and it hurts.

Charlie and Alex, the moms of the group.

You know, for a guy who says he doesn't love Justin, Alex gives a lot of shit about him. I guess you can still be around people you don't like?

I know the kiss is huge news Charlie but that's not the issue here lmao.

Zach: *hugs Clay* Clay: ????? Alex and Charlie: ?????? Zach: *pats Tyler's head* *leans on Clay*

The Padillas :''')

Clay Jensen. Class speaker. Wow.

Yeah Mr. CSI's voice is really calm, rather chilling, actually.

"You've looked at death too many times for a young person." Damn right Mr. Jensen.

Ah so that's the reason why Zach stole that letter. Makes sense, emotionally.

You know, I did say Idc anymore about Justin/Jessica problems but when it gets to this point, I can't not care.

So many people come to the hospital...

Clay and Justin's talk. I'm sorry I can't hold it in anymore. I'm fucking sobbing at this moment.

He's dead. He's dead. He's dead just like his mom. But he died not in the same way. He died holding his bro's hand. He died surrounded by his family. He died with people who loved him around.

"After everything, this is how it ends." Fucck

DID HE HAVE TO DIE??? DID JUSTIN FOLEY-JENSEN HAVE TO DIE?? Did you really have to put yet another sucker punch in the last episode of the season?? Yeah I know real kids and people do die from AIDS but really? After a whole season of Clay screaming kids wants to live to the point he lost his mind???

I spent the entire funeral screen crying. I couldn't even scream again when Scott is present in the funeral. I know he'd be there but god I can't right now.

Mr. CSI sure knows super effective ways to make Clay react.

"If Justin's dead, the none of the rest of it matters. " Clay..

He opens up.

Oh yeah I forgot Charlie is a junior.

AAAA COURTNEY AND RYAN ARE HERE!!! I MISS YOU GUYS!!!!!

SCOTTTTT!!!!!! And CHLOE TOO!! It’s nice that they come together. But they aren’t like, together, right? I mean if he is her boyfriend she would say his name right away to Zach instead of a mere ‘would you like to meet him? He’s outside.’

These 4 are such good friends to attend their friends’ graduation ceremony.

The punk guys in toga are so... Refreshing to look. Such hype men.

"It's easy to hate. It's easy to fear. It's goddamn hard to love. But it's not optional. It's essential." Jessica Davis, everybody.

Jeff, Hannah and Justin really died in the span of 2 years. Add to that is Bryce and Monty, whose deaths left uncountable traumas on top of existing traumas. Yeah. It was hellish time.

Scott’s proud small smile when Clay gives his speech. Im love.

"Choose to live. Even on the worst day, life is a pretty spectacular thing." Clay Jensen, everybody.

Ma boi Zach really teared up at Clay's speech.

Luke and one of the punk kids talking about some geek thing I am not familiar with I-

“No offense Luke. You’ve got great arm but you haven’t been known for your brain.” PETER That BURNS LMAO

Poor Winston just being alone. OH HELLO RYAN YOU ARE FAST.

Zach is gonna study music! Nice foreshadowing since he plays a lot of music this season.

Clay having a gratitude moment with his parents and Scott be like munching cupcakes in the background.

Oh god Hannah ...

Wow the old tape gang is here!! The nostalgia hurts.

They bury the tapes on the same hill again asdfwosaiofai.

Kinda salty Sheri and Scott aren’t here. But then again I guess back then Scott was just helping Clay and co when he could and mostly minding his own business. HOWEVER isn’t Sheri like in the tape and pretty prominent too :(( Like she was really cool with Clay (despite the whole guilt over Jeff), tried to make amends and really helped with the polaroid cases.

Also you can't just insert Scott in Clay's dream and then not have them interact in the end. The dream was such a perfect bait. Like we know at least they apparently get along well.

Everything in Jessica’s final conversation with her Bryce hallucination. Everything in it.

Ryan: “Gordon Lightfoot?” Ha Ryan you miss a whole lot of drama.

Fuck I'm tearing up again at Justin's essay. He deadass makes an entire essay about Clay and how he is his savior I-

Oh my god they end it exactly like S1 with Tony and Clay riding away. They are really each other’s ride or die.

That’s it. It’s over. It’s been a long trainwreck. So the 2019 class graduates, so does Justin, they are doing uni right now and keeping in touch with everyone. Bye.

#13 reasons why #13 reasons why season 4 #random saying

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