#but he’s still DETERMINED to fit in there

[ninibeingdelulu]

—headcanons ft. michael kaiser

A/N: slight nsfw at the paragraph 6.

From the moment Michael first laid eyes on you, he was utterly captivated. In his mind, someone of your ethereal beauty and grace could only be worthy of an emperor's affections. He pursued you with the same single-minded intensity he brings to the pitch.

Despite his brash exterior, Michael dotes on you like a treasured goddess. He relishes any opportunity to lavish you with opulent gifts and attention fit for royalty. No expense is too high, no grand romantic gesture too excessive in his pursuit to make you feel cherished.

However, his arrogance demands that you recognize his sovereignty in return. Michael expects your loyalty and admiration as the "world's greatest striker." He loves when you attend his matches, beaming with unrestrained pride at his feats of skill and dominance on display.

In private though, Michael's towering ego gives way to sincere reverence and vulnerability only you witness. He's humbled by your mere presence, those kaleidoscope eyes of his drinking in every sublime detail as if committing you to eternal memory.

With you, his usually domineering presence softens into something more sensual and indulgent. Michael's touch maps every swell and curve of your body with exquisite tenderness, savoring you like the most decadent delicacy. He litters praises of devotion against your flushed skin between fervent kisses.

That's not to say his imperial confidence doesn't bleed into more...intimate scenarios. Michael views satisfying you as the ultimate conquest and applies the same hyperfocus and undying determination. He won't rest until you're a melted, whimpering mess under his skilled hands and mouth.

Though he projects cavalier charm, Michael's greatest vulnerability is the fear of ever being discarded or outshone in your affections. In quiet moments, he steals your hands in his, vulnerability shining through those expressive eyes as he begs for reassurance that he's still your one and only emperor.

[algae-tm]

KILL BILL P.10

Charles Leclerc x ex! Reader, Oscar Piastri x Reader

Author’s note : So I don’t write narrative or rather I don’t write fanfic narrative, but there’s so much I want to say in this fic that feels clunky putting in like a text message. So here y’all go. I’m not 100% satisfied with the Oscar bit but also I started writing at 2 and it’s now 3:30 am so I’m gunna go to bed and then probably write some more in the coming days, do not worry we will get more in depth Oscar lore! - Algae 🌱

••••

Despite almost being 20 years old, Charles had been just a boy when you met him. A boy with a chip on his shoulder and the world at his feet—a dangerous combination that should’ve sent you running but had the opposite effect. When you first saw him, you could practically see the gears turning in his head. He paid you no attention, probably didn’t even realise you were loitering on the outskirts of his garage, watching the mechanics run around in a dazed frenzy, but you were enthralled by him.

He stood steadfastly in front of his car, with a pinched look adorning his face, forehead creased, and eyebrows drawn together. Anyone else would’ve written him off as confused, overwhelmed, not fit to have signed a contract saying he’d be battling in F1 alongside the greats—they still wrote him off as an emotionally unstable boy. But even before you had ever spoken to him, you understood what hardly anyone else did. You understood that, while Charles Leclerc was still a boy, he was more calculating than confused. And in the years of knowing him that followed, as you’d watched him progress to f1, as you’d watched him win races, that statement would prove to be true time and time again.

As the memories of your early encounters with Charles flooded your mind, you couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. He had been so young, so full of ambition and determination. You had admired him from afar, drawn to his intensity and drive to succeed. Despite the chaos of the racing world swirling around him, he had always seemed to have a clear vision of where he was going.

But somewhere along the way, things had changed. The pressures of fame and success had taken their toll, turning him into a shell of the boy you’d met. The boy with the fire in his eyes had become a man weighed down by expectations and responsibilities. And in the process, he had pushed you away, convinced that you didn't understand the sacrifices he had to make. Convinced that he held you captive in a life you weren’t ready to lead.

Charles may have told you some bullshit excuse about children and the future but you had always been able to see through him and despite this separation nothing had changed. From the arguments in the months leading to the breakup you knew he was putting an unnecessary amount of pressure on himself, putting all his hopes and aspirations on Ferrari, despite how often that had proven to be a mistake. Yes, the stupid misunderstanding of your future together was a large part of the reason you broke up, but you had a incessant feeling that Charles had felt trapped in his life, in his racing, and had attributed that trapped feeling to you.

You did not want to forgive him. You were going to forgive him. You didn’t want to forgive him. You were going to forgive him. Those were the thoughts that plagued your mind on the 8 hour flight from JFK to Nice, and as you drove down to Monaco you couldn’t help but think about your parents. You had grown up with parents who had no business staying together, yet just couldn’t leave each others orbits. And no matter how much you cursed this dynamic as a child, you were worried that it was something you were bound to repeat. As you pulled in to the hotel you had decided to meet Charles at - nice neutral territory, you realised even if you didn’t get back together, you were going to forgive him. And it would be the easiest thing you had ever done. You checked in. Getting the key from the concierge as they told you someone had already checked in earlier.

You spotted him immediately. He was sitting at a small table near the window, a glass of something amber in front of him. He looked up as you approached, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. There he was, the man you had loved for so long, the man who had been your everything. He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. You sat down opposite him, your heart in your throat.

"Charlie," you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"Hi," he replied, his eyes searching yours. "You look good."

"Thanks. You too."

There was an awkward silence, both of you unsure of how to begin. Finally, Charles took a deep breath. "I'm glad you came," he said. "I wasn't sure if you would."

"I needed to see you," you admitted. "I needed to know if... if there's still something here."

He nodded, his expression unreadable. "I've missed you," he said quietly. "It's been strange, not having you around."

"I've missed you too," you replied, your voice cracking slightly. "But I don't know if missing each other is enough."

Charles looked down at his glass, his fingers tracing the rim. "I know," he said softly. "I've been thinking a lot about us, about what went wrong. And I realise now that I wasn't fair to you. I was so focused on my career, that I had built a different reality in my head, and that I didn't see what it was doing to us. I'm sorry."

His words hit you hard, the sincerity in his voice bringing tears to your eyes. "I'm sorry too," you said. He opened his mouth to speak, probably to say you had nothing to be sorry for, but you continued, eyes downcast "I wasn't always patient, I didn’t like that I couldn’t get a read on you. I just - I wanted us to be happy.”

"I wanted that too," he said, finally looking up at you. "And maybe we can be, but we need to be honest with each other. We need to figure out what we really want."

You nodded, wiping away a tear. "I don't know if I can go back to how things were," you said. "It hurt too much."

Charles reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "I don't want to go back," he said. "I want to move forward. I want us to be better."

His touch was familiar, comforting, but it also reminded you of the pain you had endured. You pulled your hand away gently, needing to keep some distance. "I'm seeing someone else," you said, the words hanging heavy in the air.

Charles looked taken aback, his eyes widening slightly. "Oscar," he said, more a statement than a question, “so you’re actually seeing him?”

You nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. "It’s still new, fuck it’s really new, and it wasn't planned," you said quickly. "It just... happened. After we broke up, he was there for me. He wanted me, and it started off as this petty way to make you jealous but I feel something more for him."

Charles was silent for a moment, processing this new information. "Do you love him?" he asked finally, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"No," you admitted. You could practically feel a weight lift of Charles’ shoulders "I do care about him. A lot."

He nodded slowly, his expression pained. "I understand," he said. "I can't expect you to wait for me, to put your life on hold. But I still love you, and I think we could have a future together, if we both want it."

He held out his hand to you, and maybe you were going to regret it in the future but you took it.

INSTA

carlossainz55 posted on his story

(Image 1 caption : summer with friends. Image 2 caption : reunited )

seen by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 2,344,234 others

User31 : brother what?

Used42 : oh my god please tell me they’re back together!!!

charles_leclerc : y/n isn’t going to like this. delete it now for your health

lewishamilton : so that’s where she is… tell her to message me

y/bff/n : oh brother this guy STINKS.

user32 : bop

yourusername : delete this now

carlossainz55 has deleted his story

••••

You hadn’t been ignoring Oscar, okay maybe you had just slightly. But spending the short break with Charles was, okay you don’t know what it was. You were confused. Really fucking confused. Being around Charles had encompassed you, like it always did. The week and a bit you had spent with him was a whirlwind of emotions. You spent time with Charles, talking about everything and nothing, rediscovering the things that had brought you together in the first place. You laughed together, reminisced about the good times, and shared your hopes and fears. It was comforting, but it also made you realise how much you had both changed.

But Oscar Piastri was something new. Not just new something novel, he brought fresh perspectives, and the way he made you feel was so different from how you felt with Charles, and something in you said you had to give him a chance. So you guess you had been ignoring him, but only due to the fear that he’d want answers you wouldn’t be able to give. The weeks after your ‘not date’ had been filled with constant phone calls, and texts, and despite the constant feeling to remind him that you weren’t dating you both knew that wasn’t true, you both knew there was something there. So you couldn’t blame Oscar for his eagerness, in fact you relished in it, you knew Oscar was playing it up to make you laugh, make you open up more and it was working. He deserved much better than you.

••••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee

@callsignwidow

@a-beaverhausen

@emryb

@c0deincrazy

@dontworryaboutitokie

@c-losur3

@chuxk-lerclerk

@silkenthusiasts

@ietss

@sp1rl

[itstheghostofmypast]

Fallen

Husband Choi Jongho x (F)Reader

Summary: Maybe you shouldn't bet on a drenched cat, maybe you shouldn't marry someone as competitive as you- didn't matter though, he'd fall hard everytime.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1K

Est. Read Time: 5 min

Warnings: None

Rating: SFW

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

Requested by: @justsomekpopstuff

A/N: No football teams were harmed in the process😳 💕

"Are you still upset?" Her head poked into the bedroom to find the brooding bear, curled up under the blanket, though she could see the slight movement, and hear the faint sound of a video playing- was he watching reruns of the match?

"Baby bear?" She called out, slowly walking closer to the bed, placing the plate of her 'apology' on the side table and crawling onto the bed tugging at the soft cotton, "Come on Jongho~ are you really going to ignore your wife all night because she won a silly little bet?"

Ripping the blanket off him she smile at the adorable man glaring daggers at her, phone in hand, it amused her how he still looked cute and squishy-

"Stop it." Huffing he sat up, ignoring the way she was cooing over him before scooting closer to her, letting her pull him even closer as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, his arm wrapping around her waist, "Don't look at me like that...while I'm mad at you...punk." he mumbled, his other hand softly squishing her cheeks together, though all she did was giggle in his hold, eyes twinkling with admiration at the way a small smile graced his lips.

"How'd you know they were gonna win?" He asked, letting go of her cheeks so she could answer, though his hand cupped her face, thumb stroking the apple of her cheek with love and tenderness, that was clashing with his determined eyes.

"Because everyone knows Real Madrid eats up anyone and everyone... even if it's Manchester United." She smiled back pulling him closer to peck his lips, catching him off guard, his eyes widening for a split second, so brief that if she weren't looking at him like he was her whole world -which he was- she would've missed it, and only be greeted by an eyeroll that followed.

"Aww~ Don't be like that! You know I get a bit competitive when it comes to sports - Look, I even made my carebear cookies~"

Pulling away she crawled over to the plate, picking it up and turning to show him only for him to raise a brow in question, glancing at the bear shaped cookies then her, "Don't you think bear shaped cookies is a bit too much for an apology cookie?"

"An apology - Choi Jongho, I am not apologising because you lost a bet. Don't bet on a drenched cat next time."

"A what!?"

Shrugging she took a cookie and pressed it against his lips, ignoring his little fit, "I made these before the match, was waiting to bake them and since you came here to cry like a little girl after the match..." she smiled when he took a bite, "I had enough time to bake them."

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he took the plate from her, placing it on the table next to him, only to turn back and cup her face. Truth be told, he hadn't left because he lost the match or because he upset that he had lost the bet, instead Choi Jongho had run away from the field once he realised something- throughout the game, his eyes had been glued to her, rather than the game.

He had been smiling ear to ear like an idiot, taking in her fiery reactions, the way her fingers were gripping onto the cushion, how she'd be chewing on her lower lip, to how she had flung the cushion across the room when she won, turning to her lover with a smirk, pointing at him as she called him out as a loser- if anyone else had done that, he would've picked a fight, not her though, she could call him whatever she wanted, you know why? Because during those 90 minutes, he'd watch her play with his heart like a football- he realised that he was in love with his wife, no, scratch that, he had fallen in love with her all over again, which is why he had run away, to calm down and pull himself together.

"Love?"

"Hm?" He snapped back to reality, noting the confusion in her eyes, "I...I'm sorry if I got carried away-"

"What? No!" He cut her off, leaning closer to press his forehead against hers, smiling when she wrapped her arms around him, slowly moving onto his lap, until she was sitting on his thighs, straddling him as she looked up at him, "Are you sure?" She asked. It wasn't like Jongho to hide stuff from her, but maybe she went a tad bit over board with the teasing - especially calling him a loser.

Nodding in response he pulled her closer, chest flush against hers as he sighed, "I just realised how much I love you."

"Just realised...well that's odd, we are married so-"

"Don't ruin it."

"Sheesh," she exasperated, resting her head in the cook of his neck, snuggling closer, "Not a single funny bone in my, grumpy baby bear." Feeling his chest vibrate, she giggled. Of course, her baby would hide how funny she was. There is no need to let her know - meanie.

"I love you..." he mumbled, placing a soft kiss on her head, hearing her mumble a reply, which he couldn't make out, knowing she was trying not to doze off, this was one of her favourite positions to fall asleep in, though the soft press of her lips against his skin had his heart swelling with joy, casing him to lean back, so she'd be more comfortable, cookies long forgotten, the buzz of the air conditioner and the soft beating of their hearts, slowly lulling the two to a blissful slumber.

Perhaps in the morning he'd wake up before her and sneak out to make coffee for her, so they could have her cookies for breakfast, or perhaps he'd make her sit on the counter while he'd make breakfast, having her be his personal radio or perhaps he'd sing to her in the morning, serenading her with his melodies to pull her out of her peaceful state of slumber- perhaps he'd fall in love with her tomorrow all over again, though he knew that was a definite canon event on loop.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @spooo00oky @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Kintsugi  金繕い [Spencer x Reader]

Photo credits Left (@mon-petit-coeur-noir) Center (@whoisspence) Right (@shakespearesdaughters)

Prompt: When the reader gets kidnapped for being friends with Spencer, she is mentally tormented to get back at Reid, and the reader and team, especially Spencer,  have to find a way to communicate before it’s too late for her to make it out alive. 

Pairing: Spencer x BAU-Fem!reader, Nerdy!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: angst/hurt/comfort [happy ending] 

Word Count: 15K

Content Warnings: Mention of death and sexual assault, mention of blood, mental torment [threat of assault, being unclothed, forced partial blindness - eyes glued open, forced partial deafness - loud music is played, degrading comments (reader)], physical harm [being cut with a knife, being put in a feezing unit, being beaten (reader)], distress, mentions of hospitals. If I missed any please let me know. 

A/N: Hi all! I hope you are all doing very well! If you are a student on Summer break I hope you are having fun and relaxing! As always, I return with a novel of a Spencer story. This story was requested by an Anon, thank you so much, and I hope you like it! I do throw in a few Star Trek and literary references in this fic, but I try and explain them well. My requests are open, so feel free to request a fic from me if you like anytime! I do want to encourage you to read the tags as this is a bit dark for me (though it has a happy ending). If you like this concept and would like to see part two of the reader’s healing process with Spencer, let me know. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love, you are so special. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

y/c/h = your color hair 

y/l/n = your last name 

t/c/s = tea/coffee/soda 

y/n’s head was pounding. It was throbbing with pain and the hard floor and air itself seemed frigid. y/n clutched her sides and rubbed. She was grateful that their clothes were still on. Given the unsub the team was dealing with, it wasn’t what y/n had expected. But then again, the man the BAU had been trying to find in the last week had been full of surprises. He didn’t fit the early profile the team had created, and now y/n was alone and scared, but she pulled together her strength and courage and opened her eyes. This was her job and she’d been doing it for a year. She’d seen team members taken, and harmed, and sometimes almost died, but if there was one thing y/n knew about the BAU, it was that they cared for each other. Everyone on the team would be looking for her. They wouldn’t leave a stone unturned until they found her. That was what had drawn y/n to the Unit in the first place. 

The BAU had done a joint operation with y/n’s Counterterrorism team where they were the unofficial data specialist and literary nerd. As soon as Derek had seen y/n and Reid together, he looked at Emily and said, “Well, this is going to be trouble,” to which both agents looked up and said in unison, “What?” It was during that case that Spencer had been in danger, and y/n was a bit too. Spencer had put himself in harm's way to ensure she was okay. Just seeing how the BAU responded with more than just professionalism, but also with care had sealed y/n into wanting a transfer. It wasn’t for another two years before that became a possibility. There was some issue with the documents that she had mailed to the Quanitco office, eventually, she sent fresh ones and drove them down herself. 

It was that knowledge, that the team was looking, at that filled y/n with warmth and shared determination. She opened her eyes and realized why she was so cold. From the looks of things, the white cement floor, the fluorescent lighting, and the crusted blood on the ground, y/n was in a meat packing plant. She sniffled and rubbed her shivering torso as she opened her eyes and sat up. There were conveyor belts on the far side of the wall, along with sharp meat hooks hanging from the ceiling. This setting would make sense given that the bodies of the three victims that had the team come down in the first place had seemed very fresh, even though they had passed a few weeks ago. The thought of the women and what the unsub had done to them and their bodies made y/n want to vomit. 

They had been killed excruciatingly. Not only had they been tortured, but they’d been assaulted as well. With this in mind, and possibly in her future, y/n moved away from the dried blood on the floor, not sure who or what it was from. y/n wondered how long the man kept his victims alive. The team had hypothesized that he was a sadist and loved long drawn out kills, to watch the victims suffer. The unsub had a type, and y/n fell into it. There was a sound at the far side of the room, and y/n moved to the center of the space. There was no point in cowering in the corner. She decided to face the unsub head-on. Show no fear, even if she was filled with it to the brim. The man’s outline filled the door making it unable for her to see him, but y/n knew that would change soon enough. 

As y/n waited to test wits with the man in front of her, the rest of the BAU, many miles away had set up a tent at the Kansas State Fair. Their team tent looked much less adorned than those of the food and game vendors with their bright colors and light. The satellite pop-up of the BAU and police presence were needed to gather information and vet the people leaving the fair since y/n had been taken. Their tent was on the far side of the fair. It would be unassuming if there weren’t loads of cops, police cars, state troopers cars, and a SWAT team all moving in and out of the space. Aaron and Rossi were heading up the operation and working through the bureaucratic tape and interdepartmental things that would otherwise slow the team down. There was a tension in the air that permeated each member of the BAU. It was palpable with all of them, but with Spencer, it was coming off him wave after wave. The lithe agent was with Emily and Derek, walking through the empty mirror house where y/n had been abducted. As Reid, Em, and Morgan move through each cranny and trick door for guests and employees. He caught his reflection in mirror after mirror and it all felt like a sick joke. Reid was absorbed in his own reflection for a moment before he heard Derek’s voice cut through his brain fog. Spencer snapped up and moved toward his friend's voice. Emily and Morgan were kneeling down next to an employee entrance. Reid was upset and angry, and the sight of a blood stain on the bright floor along with a few strands of y/n’s y/c/h should have made him feel good, but the blood only meant that y/n was already hurt, and probably being hurt more at this point made his stomach churn. 

Emily looked at Spencer’s serious face and re-asked “Can we get a blood sample vial, Spence?” The question finally registered with Reid and he replied sharply, “I’ll do it. Can you just step aside a bit?” Derek’s brow furrowed. He knew that Spencer had a thing for y/n. Everyone on the team did except, infuriatingly, the pining agents themselves. But that didn’t give Spencer a reason to be hot at them. Morgan replied, “Easy Spence. We’re doing everything we can.” Spencer couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Well not enough to keep her safe when she was with you both.” At that statement, both Prentiss and Derek stood and looked at Spencer disappointingly, like a child who had said a naughty word they had been told not to say. They both moved back and their physical reactions made Spencer drop his head in shame. He took a deep breath, rubbed his eyes, and said to the floor, “I’m sorry.” He was trying to hold back all the emotions. Emotions he often didn’t let himself feel. He looked up at his friends and continued, “I’m sorry. I… I don’t think I know how to deal with this. I know it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done anything, and you both care about y/n as much as I do. I let my emotions get away from me.” 

Morgan and Emily looked at each other as Reid said that they both liked y/n as much as he did, knowing it wasn’t true. Yes, they both loved y/n, but not like Spencer, and that realization justified Reid's words for them. They both moved forward. Derek gave Spencer’s shoulder a firm squeeze, and said, “It’s okay, kid. Now, have you got that vial Em needs?” Reid released a relieved breath, pulled a sample kit out of his shoulder bag, and handed it over to Emily who was back on her knees near the evidence. As she began taking the sample, Morgan and Spencer moved down the narrow trap door to see where it led and to see if there were more clues about the unsub or y/n’s location. 

As the duo moved down the narrow hallway, it became apparent that y/n must have been unconscious or tightly bound as she was being taken away by the unsub. There would have been more of a struggle on y/n’s part if she’d been awake or free, but none of the boxes or supplies for the House of Mirrors seemed to be broken or messed up. Derek didn’t know if this was a good or a bad thing, and Reid’s mind was moving too fast, even he couldn’t keep up with it. He knew the team needed to find all of the physical evidence first, to vet the guests and vendors that were leaving for information, but that could be a slow process and all Spener wanted to do was use his full brain power to think about the victimology, update the profile, make a map pinpointing the locations of the victims, but this process had to be done first. The team was a member short, and they all knew the police weren’t helpful in situations like this, so Reid sucked it up and kept moving beside Morgan, trying desperately to still his brain for once. 

Back in the freezer, y/n looked as the mountain of a man came into view. He looked disheveled and red-faced. He wore jeans and a button-down T-shirt. y/n looked at him. She wanted him to make the first move, to understand him better -- his ticks, any weaknesses he had. Anything she could use against him. Force wasn’t an option right now, but she had her mind, and that was worth a lot. The unsub grinned and said, “This will be fun. You’re prettier than I expected. That look of fear on your face, he’s going to love that.” y/n swallowed and replied, “‘He?’ Don’t you mean you. You’re the one taking and killing the woman. And thanks for the compliment.” The man chuckled and said, “You have a mouth on you alright, just like I expected. Of course, he’d like you the little bitch. And who he is doesn’t matter. For now at least. But it will be fun. Not for you of course, but for me it will be. I’ll get so, so very much pleasure from you. I just didn’t expect you to be so cute. It’s a shame, really.” 

y/n frowned. She couldn’t tell if this was dissociation or multiple personalities, but the constant mention of her looks and another person was odd. There hadn’t been any signs of a second unsub, nor was there any other DNA evidence on the victims. As the man made a fast step toward y/n, she moved away from him. This only had the unsub smile and laugh as he moved toward y/n again and said, “You can’t run away from me little bird. You’re only going to make it worse on yourself.” y/n stopped at that. y/n stopped immediately. She swallowed thickly. If she was someone else, like Hotch, Morgan, or Spencer who had the presence and size to act brave in a physical altercation she would bluster and make herself big and threatening. But y/n wasn’t them and didn’t take risks like they did. Firstly, because even y/n assumed Morgan would be physically intimidated by the man’s size and bulk, secondly, y/n was still new to the BAU. Not that she hadn’t picked things up quickly or was good at the job, but it was still more difficult for her to pick up small tells or things like Reid or Emily could. Plus, it wouldn’t help her in signaling the team in some way if the first thing that happened to her was to be fully incapacitated. 

The unsub noticed her submissive posture and liked it saying, “That’s it little bird, now I need you to get out of your things.” y/n looked up at him, biting her lip asking, “Why? What happened to the bird when it gets defeathered, defrocked?” y/n knew what to expect next, assault was part of this man’s MO and if she could postpone that, she sure as hell would. The man laughed again, harsh and cruel, like he was in on a joke that she wasn’t. The man replied, “I’m not going to break you like the others. I could, and I will if you give me too much bratty attitude, but that’s not the plan. All of that other shit with the women and how I treated them, that was to get your attention. Their attention. And I don't think physically breaking you would hurt him either, but don’t test me. However, for now, just take off your clothes and I won’t touch you, that way.” 

y/n didn’t look forward to being undressed in front of anyone. It was uncomfortable for her to be vulnerable with their body like that, even with close friends like Penelope and JJ. In fact, a memory of Emily trying to get her to buy a more revealing swimsuit for the summer popped into her mind and the coaxing it took for y/n to finally buy and wear the skimpy swimwear. Of course, Spencer’s attempt to not look over her body with rapt attention had made the discomfort worth it. When the unsub grabbed at her shirt, y/n began undoing the button of her shirt. It took longer than she expected as her hands shook with cold and fear. y/n expected the man to ask her to move faster, but he didn’t. Again, he seemed to have a sick enjoyment of watching her cower. y/n took this opportunity to think and think fast. The man had said he was trying to get the team's attention. Not only the team’s attention but ‘his’ attention. So that narrowed it down to four people. That was something to go off of. Second, this unsub was someone y/n would have remembered if she’d dealt with him before, but she didn’t, so he was someone from before her time. This was some kind of lesson. There was only a small glimmer of hope that y/n had for her health, both physical and mental because if the unsub wanted to break a member of the team through her, it was going to take more than just taking them captive and keeping them in a poorly regulated freezing unit. 

At this point, y/n was down to her undergarments, and she wondered how pushing the man would be. How quickly he would react, and with how much force? There was only one way of finding out, and she intended to know this early on. This way she could better gauge her actions and submissiveness. If that turned out to be a thing he liked, then she could use it as a small way of gaining control later. So y/n stopped when she stepped out of her pants, and the man quickly changed his demeanor saying, “Don’t stop now. I may not be interested in you, but I know he is, and it’s no good if we’re keeping this at a PG-13, scary movie rating. I need this to be the unrated version birdie, so get out of those panties and bra.” y/n now knew that the man’s emotions were volatile and could change on a dime. That was all she needed to know to get out of her last things. The cold chilled y/n further now that she was nude. 

y/n couldn’t stop herself as she moved her hands to cover her nudity. The unsub bent down not even noticing her discomfort as he picked up her undergarments and examined them to an odd degree muttering, “Do you think he knows you match your bra to your panties? Because he will soon enough.” y/n stepped back, slowly onto one of the patches of dried blood which made y/n cringe. The serious ‘he’ was back and the expression of rage on the man’s face was so intense that y/n wanted to run to the door to try and escape. Whatever this man who had supposedly wronged the unsub, there was a vitriolic rage for him simmering underneath the surface. Before y/n even had the chance to fully think through making a run for it, the man stood up and whipped his hand over y/n’s face so hard that the blow threw her back and into one of the metal supports of the conveyor belts. 

The pain in the side of y/n’s face shocked her into stillness as her jaw clicked oddly and she grunted in pain. Again, before y/n could react, the unsub was on her again. He kicked her torso, legs, and face with the steel tips of his boots breaking the skin every time another blow landed on her prone body. Along with the damage to her front, every time the man’s foot met y/n’s bare flesh, her back was pushed back and harder into the sharp corner of the convey belt. y/n quickly figured out that the unsub was being fast and efficient. When she looked up at his face, he seemed bored as he landed each kick. There was a callous disinterest in what he was doing. He seemed to not be affected at all by what was happening to his victim. Due to this y/n began planning accordingly. Shifting her position slightly so the blows landed on a more padded part of her body, and along with giving her lower back a break by shifting the hits to her lower shoulders, this meant her breasts getting hit, which was not pleasant in the least, but it was somewhere new, and somewhere padded by a bit more. 

y/n felt jostled to the core and rattled to the bone. The pain she was experiencing was blinding and she couldn’t think about much more than trying to protect her face and groin, both of which got hit anyway. What felt like an eternity’s worth of blows ended as soon as it began, and all y/n could do was lie on the ground and grit her teeth against the pain. Her attempt to stay strong physically and mentally was already being tested, but she refused to lick her wounds in front of her captor. If this was about being broken, then she wasn’t yet. The unsub knelt with a grunt and jerked y/n’s face up and into the light, looking at the bruising on her face examining her like a piece of meat for consumption. Something about her battered appearance didn’t suit his liking and he said like a painter finishing a masterpiece, “Just a bit more, right there.” His large stubby pointer finger gesticulated at her lower face and he gripped her hair more tightly and rammed her head onto the floor splitting her lip and jarring her jaw again. 

With that, the man dropped y/n’s face, stood, and walked straight out of the room. Just for the fun of it, he kept the door open for three minutes as he watched y/n turn onto her side to find any place that was comfortable enough to breathe. y/n looked at the open door and the look of delight on the man’s face as he stood by the entrance, and y/n realized that this was going to be her form of torment, an option in view but not accessible. When the large metal door finally swung shut and was locked from the outside, y/n closed her eyes and tried to use her brain. There would be time to assess her physical damage later, for now, she could use one thing that she had. She made mental notes: that the unsub walked with a limp, that he had a New York accent, that he wasn’t over fifty years old. He also had a large size footprint to match his large stature. He also had a mermaid tattoo on his left ankle. Next, she thought about his mental patterns. He was volatile and not afraid to cause harm, but he took no pleasure in doing so to her. It was about a certain result. He had also said that he had only killed those other women, and eviscerated them, to get a man on the team's attention. y/n could work with that. Try and use that to her advantage. If only she could find out who the man was. As the pain took y/n over, and her brain shut down to the basic feeling of hurt and cold, y/n’s mind turned to Spencer. How I must have looked at the moment. Stressed, tired, on edge. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, even if it was for her. She wished she could pull him into a hug and say “It’s alright Spence. I’m holding on. I promise.” The last sentence would stay silent, but he’d know. Because he always knew her. And with that thought, y/n closed her eyes, curled in on herself, and attempted to rest. 

The night was not pleasant for anyone but the unsub. But even Moore Eiarty, the unsub, was worried that his plan wouldn’t succeed, That he couldn’t break the genius of Spencer Reid. But all the pieces were finally in place, and now it was time to play. As the team finally got through vetting the people in the park, they got back to work. The main thing they had to go off of was that one of the performers, the Giant Man, was missing. He’d been added last minute to the tour and there had barely been time to get his paperwork in order before the Kansas Fair began. And it wasn’t until that evening that they discovered that the man, Mr. M. Earity, had very well-forged documents. Not just one, but all of them. That gave Penelope a lot to work on while the team took the angle of victimology and reworked the profile. The BAU had moved back to the police precinct except for Derek and Rossi. Spencer knew that Morgan was taking this especially hard because y/n had been taken while she was with him, but Spence’s head was too full of ideas and concerns to worry about how the others felt right now. 

Aaron watched the team do what the team did. Perhaps they were working a bit more hectically than normal, but this was one of their own on the line and Hotch would rather die before he stopped working to get y/n back. As he looked at Spencer, writing on over seven whiteboards with three coffees on the table, he considered that Reid might also die if they didn’t find y/n soon. That thought sat with the Unit Chief, and he tucked it in the back of his mind for later. This felt especially pertinent to this case, though he didn’t know why yet. Nothing much came in terms of developments for a few hours. JJ released a statement for the press, Derek and Rossi returned to the team, and the Fair was shut down for legal safety. The tip line ran nonstop and everyone felt the weight of time. It wasn’t until 3:00 AM that the first real forward momentum was given to the team, and target to Spencer specifically. 

It came in the form of an email from an unlisted account. It was labeled Urgent Dr. Reid - Re:y/n, y/l/n. Spencer looked at the email and decided to open it. He was tired, and his brain was beginning to numb at all the stimuli that were assaulting his mind. What he saw once he opened that email made him drop his coffee and whip his hand over his mouth in horror. Aaron and Emily were in the room with Spencer, and they both noticed their colleague’s distress. Prentiss moved to Reid’s side and looked at the laptop as well. Her mouth went slack and she whispered, “Oh my God. H-hotch…” It didn’t take Aaron more than four strides to see what had both of these friends looking like they were going to be sick. As soon as he saw the first picture of y/n, naked, heavily bruised and bloody, and head down he knew why Reid and Em had reacted as they had. y/n’s hands were forced above her head with zip ties and strung to a hook hanging from the ceiling. The position she was in had her knees barely brushing the floor which meant that all of her weight was in her wrists, elbows, and shoulders.

y/n wore a pained expression, and Hotch’s eyes darted up for a second out of proprietary. He didn’t want to have to see y/n undressed. To be forced into such a humiliating position and know others, people she trusted, would see it made Aaron pause. It hurt. He composed himself and said as professionally as he could, “We need this on the big screen. Em, can you get on that? Reid, is there any text in the body?” Prentiss and Spencer came back to themselves, though it took Spence a moment longer, and they registered their Leader’s questions. Emily nodded and moved to pull down the projector in the room and pushed some of the whiteboards Reid had been using aside; meanwhile, Reid scrolled past the 25 attached photos to where there was some text. He read it in a millisecond and said, “Yes there is. I’ll get Gacia on Zoom while you get the rest of the team in here.” Hotch nodded and took one more second to look at Spencer to see if he was okay. This was targeted at him, which was both a good and a bad thing, but right now, the smartest member of the team looked determined to get to the bottom of this, so Hotch moved to the door to get everyone else into the conference room. 

After the team looked at all of the photos and the attached email, they split into smaller sub-groups to work more efficiently. Aaron and Emily agreed to look at all of the images with a more critical eye. They would break down every angle and shot and bruise on y/n’s body. The one positive thing that the pictures did show was that y/n was alive. Or at least she had been, and given the unsub’s propensity to draw out his kills, there was a good chance that y/n was still alive. The time stamp on the email had been from only a half hour ago and didn’t appear altered. Hotch assigned Spencer and JJ to look at the body of the email. He gave this task to Spencer so he could do something he excelled at. He was the best linguist and forensic document analyst in the FBI after all. JJ was also excellent at identifying patterns in writing and could help Spencer. It also gave Reid an out for not having to look at y/n’s prone and exposed body. 

Aaron as the leader took that burden of looking at y/n with Emily because Prentiss was also very good at compartmentalizing her emotions related to her friendships and the job. Derek was working with Garcia, who was on overdrive to find the source of the email and pin down a location along with about ten thousand other things. She’d gone as far as calling in Janet, another Technical analyst at Quantico to come and help her because two computer processors and brains were always better than one. Lastly, Rossi coordinated with the police on-the-ground operation of searching for y/n. Even though a lot of moving pieces were happening at the same time, the BAU did what it always did -- work with excellence and as a team. Aaron looked at his team for a moment, proud of them. He was worried about Spencer, who was more on edge than normal. Hotch turned his eyes back to the screen, he’d check in on the genius in a few hours, for now, he had a difficult job to do. 

After a few hours that slipped by like grains of sand in an open palm, the team had discovered a few things. The first thing that Spencer and JJ broke down was the email which read: 

I have waited for a long time to get this opportunity. While I have watched you all, the most famous and infamous team in the FBI, I have been looking at one of you in particular. I wonder if you know who you are yet? Let me give you a hint. Last I saw you, you were just a child not even weaned on crimes or violence. Do you know now? Estranged from your friend, I wonder if you’re floundering like I have been before because of you. Sorry if this is all a bit obtuse, but this is fun, and I’m going to draw it out for you. Try not to get too excited yet, the best is yet to come. Rest assured that your friend will face the consequences of knowing you so well. Only when I see you so ruined as I have been ruined will I be happy. Yesterday you were so determined to catch me, do you feel that way now, or are you feeling the fear in your veins? You can find me eventually, but not before I find you. Other things may happen too. Under my control, I may make y/n do anything I want. Don’t worry though, I don’t have plans like I had for the others, this is different. Ready now. Ready now. Enough of waiting for you, and this moment. I’d start praying for y/n, and you, my friend. Dare we should meet in person and you’ll see what I’ve done to her and you’ll finally taste my revenge. 

It didn’t take Spencer more than a minute to read the ‘secret message of’ I will destroy you, Dr. Reid, in the unsubs email. He almost laughed at the grandiose nature of the writing. JJ then pointed out that y/n wasn’t even mentioned until the end of the rambling message. This told the team that this kidnapping was all about Spencer, as it was clear from the email, and had little to do with y/n. That y/n was being used as a tool to get at Reid. Of course, the pictures of y/n who was bruised heavily all over her body, showed that the unsub was still willing to inflict serious bodily harm on her. But this fact made Emily and JJ feel slightly better. 

Spencer had come up with at least seventeen facts, grammatical patterns, and hints at a personality based on egomania. After Reid had said about five of them in the span of a few minutes, Derek gave him a look and Spencer stopped talking. Aaron and Emily then broke down the patterns of bruising and how the depth of the day-old bruising was likely from one sustained moment in time. That there didn’t seem to be layer upon layer of bruising on y/n’s body. Also, from the look of it, there didn’t seem to be any sign of sexual assault. Hotch had caught onto the dark red-rimmed circles under y/n’s eyes, indicating that she hadn’t slept much if at all since she had been taken nearly twenty-four hours ago. It was also pretty easy for Aaron to tell that y/n was being kept in some kind of industrial freezing unit. This was concerning as staying anytime long-term in such a cold space could lead to frostbite and long-term nerve damage. 

After the team had gone through the information and made a start at a new profile that focused mostly on the unsubs' hatred for Spencer, this put even more pressure on Spence. The rest of the team took a small break to just breathe or step outside or get a drink of the bad coffee from the office breakroom, Reid stayed behind and furiously wrote in his notepad and looked at the photos of y/n while biting the inside of his cheek so hard that he broke the soft pink skin. Spencer turned off the bright light to let his eyes and at least his occipital cortex have a break. The rest of his body was working pell mill. Derek moved back to the room ten minutes later and Spencer was leaning, his hands forward, and head bowed toward the wooden table. He looked like he might collapse. Morgan could see his friend’s outline backlit against the brightness of the screen. He looked frailer than normal, skinnier than his usual tall body. Derek knew this was hard for Spencer because it was y/n who had been taken, and it was because of him. Even if Spencer hadn’t realized he had feelings for y/n yet, he still felt the weight of what was happening to her because of him. Morgan entered the room with a cup of coffee and said gently, “Spencer, I brought you some coffee.” Reid hummed softly like he hadn’t really heard Morgan and Derek said, “Reid,” a bit louder. Spencer’s head shot up and toward Derek and his hands gripped the side of the table harder, knuckles turning white. Spencer snapped a “What?” at Morgan before taking a breath and relaxing his shoulders. Morgan didn’t mind Spence’s tone now. It made sense. 

Derek moved into the room and said, “I brought you some coffee. Maybe we could step outside for a minute? Get some fresh air?” Reid dropped his head again and he said mournfully, “I can’t rest right now. I have to figure out who has y/n.  I don’t know who the unsub is, but they know me and I don’t want y/n to have to pay the price for that.” Derek sighed and replied, “Spence, y/n would never blame you for being her friend, for being someone special to her.” Reid sniffled and replied, “She won’t thank me if she’s dead and neither will I.” Spencer’s voice broke off halfway through his last sentence. Morgan stepped forward and placed his hand on Reid’s shoulder. He gave is a gentle squeeze and replied, “Well thinking like that isn’t going to save her. And you need that super processor of a brain of yours to cool off before it shuts down on it’s own. And y/n is a tough cookie, she’s going to make it Reid. If there’s anyone who can find her, it’s you. And if you start letting this guy get to your head, then he’s already won. And we don’t let fuckers like that win. I know y/n sure as shit won’t thank you for that. Now let's go outside.” Spence allowed himself to be led out of the dark room, and Morgan closed the door behind them. 

y/n was beyond tired, she dozed off on and off as she lay in the corner of the room. She was too sore to move around. She did take a look at her surroundings every time she woke abruptly from an unknown sound. She’d look for the man who called himself Mr. M., or to shift from side to side to try and increase her circulation and shift the pain to a new place if that was possible. Much to Mr. M.’s credit, he didn’t seem to enjoy stringing y/n up to the ceiling and he’d taken her down as soon he’d finished taking what seemed like an endless stream of photos. He’d positioned her more like a clay statue looking at angles and composition than as if she was a human in pain. This gave y/n an indication that he might be a sociopath given that he seemed immune to her pained sounds as he adjusted her body again and again. He’d muttered “He’s going to love these. To see what I’ve made of you so far.” y/n opted to stay silent. To see if she could get any more information from the man, but he didn’t do much more than complain about the lighting and make comments about the ‘he’ in question. y/n highly considered that the male member of the team could be Rossi or Aaron, whom Mr. M was muttering on about. M seemed to address this person with such dignified authority that would fit those two people on the team. But that didn’t make sense, as y/n didn’t think Hotch or Rossi held her in any higher standard than the rest of the BAU. Yes, she respected Aaron as a leader and he respected her back. And surely he was beating himself up for not looking out for her, but it didn’t seem to fit with the rage that M felt toward this person. 

It seemed even more outlandish for the ‘he’ to be Rossi. Rossi was like a father figure to y/n. He had helped her really learn the ropes of the team and cases. Especially the paperwork after a case was finished, but if Mr. M wanted to hurt Rossi, he’d surely know to find one of his Ex-wives or someone closer to Dave. It was the odd reverence that the unsub continued using that threw y/n off of the real person he was targeting. The next interaction that y/n had with the man would clear things up for her significantly, and give her an option to use her brain to help the team find her. 

Mr. M came back sooner than y/n had wished. Her exhaustion and numbness made not only her body weak but her brain slow. When she saw that he was holding her underwear and a knife, she sat up and crawled back against the wall clumsily, not liking that combination of objects together. The man snorted and said, “Trying to fly away bird, I’m going to clip your wings if you do that too much. Then you won’t be able to run, ever.” y/n slowed her movements,  not willing to test the huge man in front of her. y/n swallowed thickly and looked from Mr. M.’s passive face to his hands holding the mismatched objects. The intimate and the violent. The man watched her eyes,  tracked their movements, and when he saw where they landed he genuinely laughed and said, “I told you before, I didn’t like doing those things to those girls. It was to make a point. Touching people intimately is my least favorite idea of a ‘good time.’ I just plan on making him think I’ve had you that way. Send him a little surprise gift and watch as he tries to process his loss of that part of you.” Somehow this response baffled y/n’s sleepless brain even more. Who the hell on the team wouldn’t be upset if she got assaulted in that way? If fact y/n could imagine each member of the team taking Mr. M out in rather lurid ways. It was stupid, but it gave y/n comfort and she even smiled softly at the thought of Derek beating the man up, or Spencer setting some kind of trap of wits for him. M. saw her happy look, and struck her face with the back of his fist, now only a foot from her body. He sneered and said, “‘he’ won’t be as happy as you are right now when he gets our present.” M grabbed her left arm, placed the tip of the knife on her forearm, and pressed it into her skin. The man drew a line down her wrist. 

The red liquid bubbled up and out of the wound like a stream. The cold of the freezer numbed the pain a bit. In fact, the feeling of the hot blood dripping down y/n’s arm was warming and she would have spread it over her arm if she was just a bit more tired. However, she didn’t have the chance as M grabbed her arm in a vice grip, and with his other hand, grabbed her panties. He ran the crotch of her undergarments over her fresh cut, spreading blood over the inside seam. He then dropped them to the ground and turned her arm over. He pinched at the wound, causing the bleeding to increase and easing large red droplets onto her already-soiled underwear. 

y/n felt disgusted at being used this way and said to fill in the oppressive silence, “I don’t think Derek will find this appalling, mainly he’d going to think it’s gross as fuck.” y/n hadn’t really meant Morgan, she’d just said the first name that popped into her head. As tough as Derek was, he wasn’t great with blood, just like Gracia. The slip was the best thing y/n could do as M dropped her arm and looked at her like she’d grown a second head. He shook his head and said, “Lord, and I thought ‘he’ liked you for your brain. It seems you may not have one up there. Dr. Reid is who I am referring to bird. Not agent Morgan. Derek couldn’t figure this out if you put all the pieces in front of him on a board.” 

y/n was astonished for a moment. Not only at the apparent racism of Mr M. but his other statement as well:  Spencer! This was about Spencer! How the hell this guy knew and had been wronged by her best friend on the team was beyond her. Certainly, Reid would have told her about him if they’d had run-ins in the past. They spent so much time together that they basically knew everything about each other. The weariness and pain were starting to get to y/n and she muttered as she closed her eyes, “Why would Spence care about this, he’s seen me on my period before. He’s gotten my sanitary products before, hell I bitch at him when I get cramps, and he takes it.” M stopped looking at the work of art which was y/n’s blood-soaked underwear and said, “You really are hopeless. And I don’t see the appeal to the good Doctor. He’s in love with you and you can’t even see it. Hopeless bird, I’ll take care of that though. You won’t have to think for much longer.” The vitality that y/n had been lacking came back in a rush of heat as M said that Spencer was in love with her. y/n sat up and took her injured arm and cradled it to her chest. The pain finally registered in her synapses. She let out a prolonged breath and said. “You think Spencer is in love with me? That’s a bit of a stretch.” y/n knew in the back of her mind that this might get her hurt more, or killed, but she was finally getting answers and perhaps if she had more answers she could do something with that. Actually use her brain, which the unsub had insulted she didn’t. 

M sighed and replied as if this was a normal conversation, “Bird, the data adds up. Dr. Reid puts himself in forty-three percent more danger when you are in a dangerous postion on a case. He puts himself in the line of fire for you over and over. At least five times by the records I’ve seen. Not only that, the chronically lonely young man who shuns women’s attention chooses to spend time with you above his other friends, even the likes of Morgan or Penelope. If that’s not the start of a crush, then I don’t know what is.” y/n looked up at the man with awe. Not so much at his intellectual prowess that he seemed to think he had, but at how stupid he sounded. Perhaps, maybe, maybe, there were some more feelings between y/n and Spencrs than friendship, but the other things he said were just crap. His use of statistics, and characterizing Reid as a lonely hermit was laughable. However, y/n was more aware than ever now, and this time she kept their mouth shut. She knew that saying those things out loud might likely get her knifed to death, and although the current situation was far from comfortable, she didn’t fancy dying. M hadn’t broken her yet, and now she was more determined than ever to live through this moment. 

The unsub noted that y/n had calmed down slightly and said, “I’ll be back shortly. I can’t let you or him rest too often now. I need to pick up the pace, but I need to send this little gift his way. Any loving words you want to tell him with my little letter? Perhaps it will give the Doctor some comfort.” The man said it sardonically, but y/n pulled herself together and tried to do her best acting and used a sorrowful tone as she said, “Tell him I’m sad it was my first time like this. I’d wished that we’d done it in Tanagra when we had the chance, but he knew I wasn’t ready. I won’t be ready.” y/n let the words slip off her tongue like she’d said them with a longing sadness and it put M at unease to see the odd shift in emotions; however, he shrugged his shoulders and replied cooly, “I’ll be sure to relay your sentiments.” 

Once the man had left the room with the knife, y/n lay back exhausted. The unsub had said he’d be back shortly, but maybe he was playing a game and he’d just leave her there to rot or starve. Either way, y/n needed to use this renewed time to think, and not just about the fact that she was trying to come to terms with the fact that she might love Spencer more than she’d allowed herself to do before. She needed to leverage this situation and not let those feelings overwhelm her. She’d already hopefully set one clue and one trap, she’d just need a bit more information to let the trap work. She pondered these things as she rubbed her skin which was slowly losing sensation as the minutes ticked by. 

When the package arrived at the precinct, the team was more prepared for it this time. The police stopped the carrier to ask him a plethora of questions while the team opened the box with some apprehension. Emily took on the role of the person who opened the box. Given the nasty surprise of the pictures of y/n in a state of complete undress in the first contact with the unsub, nobody wanted Spencer to get that kind of a shock again, even if the box was addressed to him alone. Inside the well-packaged cardboard parcel was a letter which Prentiss handed over to Morgan and then she pulled aside a good deal more pink tissue paper than was needed for the pair of underwear in the box. It took Emily and the team a moment to realize what they were given the blood had caked and dried, wrinkling the thin fabric into a distorted blob shape. The team looked at the item not so much with disdain as confusion. Some members of the BAU, JJ, Emily, and Penelope, had seen y/n in her underthings when they shared rooms in a busy hotel, but none of them, especially not Spencer, could immediately identify that they were y/n’s panties until M stated that directly, and implied that he’d done to y/n what he’d done to all his other victims before slowly killing them. 

This information did seem to shock and horrify the team until Derek read this part of the letter aloud with a hint of awkwardness, “And the little bird has a song for the doctor ‘I’m sorry that this was my first time, and that she wishes you had both done it in Tanagra.’ How unfortunate for both of you that that wasn’t the case…” Spencer cut Derek off before he could go into more grotesque details from the letter about what the unsub had done to y/n by saying, “Wait, wait, say that again.” Morgan paused and the team looked at Reid with questioning expressions. Derek repeated the last sentence, and Reid let out a soft breath in relief as he confidently said, “He didn’t touch her,” then under his breath, “thank God.” The BAU was more baffled than ever, and JJ looked over at the soiled underwear now back in the box getting ready for processing by the forensics lab. With hesitation, JJ replied, “Spencer, y/n’s underwear is telling a different story, as does the bruising on her body” 

The team was at a loss for what to think. y/n had been a reserved person far before she joined the team, and the reference that she might have had sex with Spencer, or wanted to have sex with Reid was not totally a shock, given that the BAU knew the two agents were in love, even if they didn’t. But for her to state it like that either showed signs of mental duress or something of that nature. It was just incredibly out of character for her to say anything like that to anyone, even the women on the team. Reid’s response was even more shocking as he said, “y/n’s had plenty of sex. She’s been in a lot of relationships before, so why would she say this was her ‘first time.’ That doesn’t make any sense. Also, I think she would have singled out something more extreme if she had been hurt in that way. It’s all too faux intellectual.” The team stood in stunned silence for a moment before Derek said, “And you and y/n talk about your sex lives often?” 

Spencer flushed at the intrusive question, realizing that he was putting a lot out there about his and y/n’s friendship. Things they may not have shared with other members of the team and kept between themselves. But this was a case where revealing some private details could save y/n’s life, and Spencer would rather die than lose y/n, so he replied steadily, “Yes. Sometimes. When we hang out we talk about our relationships. Why they worked or didn’t? How we’re, different.” Spence omitted the line, “How we can be hard to love.” He meant it more for himself than y/n, even though she echoed that sentiment whenever he brought it up. Spence never really got that. When they’d lay sprawled out under a blanket arguing about the symbolism in Dr. Who, or what the best adaptation of Jane Austen was, he felt like loving y/n would be the easiest thing in the world. Of course, he’d never said that to her either. The team was still silent when Reid came back from his internal journey and Hotch, who most of the time came forward and realized patterns and trends asked, “And Tanagra? Is it a small island or something? I’ve never heard of it before.” Spencer’s eyes moved up and he said, “It’s a reference to an episode of Star Trek we both like called ‘Darmok.’” The team looked at Reid for further clarification because, unlike Spencer and y/n, they didn’t go on overnight watches of Star Trek the Next Generation. 

Again, Reid reddened but patiently explained, “In the episode Captain Picard gets sent to a planet without any weapons. There’s another alien there as well. The Enterprise crew thinks it is some sort of setup, as does Captain Picard. But as it turns out, Picard and the alien, Dathon, need to come together to fight a common enemy. They end up beating the enemy, but Dathon dies. The moral is that they had to find understanding to become united, not only as fighters but as a species.” After Reid quickly gave his recap highlighting the plot and moral of the episode, the team, with the new information seemed to be revitalized, and put at ease. It was just a sliver of hope because y/n had managed to gain some way of communicating with them. Aaron cleared his throat and said, “Alright, Reid, and you Morgan take the letter. If y/n is sending any other covert messages then you should be able to find them.” Hotch felt the weight of pressure from this case on his shoulders and raised a hand to his forehead closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Rossi saw his friend's distress and continued the conversation, “Aaron and I will go and check some of the places Garcia flagged as potential locations that y/n could be kept. JJ, you and Emily accompany the forensics team and get us the information once they have some, stat. Is that really y/n’s blood, are there any toxins present, all that? Okay?” Everyone nodded. Now that they all had a direction to go and a specific task to do, it felt more manageable. 

Despite the bright light and thanks to sheer exhaustion, y/n had managed to get a few hours of sleep at some point after being cut by M. She woke with the sound of the door opening. y/n had lost all track of time at this point. There were no windows to tell if it was night or day, and her circadian rhythms were off. Logically y/n knew that it couldn’t have been more than a few days, but at this point, it felt like a week at least. The constant stress, hunger thirst, and cold had drained her so much that she struggled to get up to a seated position to see what her captor was doing this time. M seemed uninterested in y/n, but he did glance at her, the door, and then at her again, as if taunting, “Try me.” The man had brought in a bigger load of items this time. Thanks to his size and strength, he could hold multiple trash bags and a backpack which he could handle all in one trip.

y/n watched M with apprehension and fear as he pulled out a multitude of lights and stands. M set up the lights like a makeup influencer might. M set what looked like extra bright lights in a square formation only a few feet off the ground. y/n bit her lip. If the man was planning on filming something, mainly her, she would be so close to the ground that it would be uncomfortable for him to have to lean down like that. The setup seemed to make no sense, and y/n didn’t like that. In interrogation training, she, along with new FBI agents, were instructed to mentally prepare for what was going to happen to them to better not spill state secrets. However, in this scenario, she couldn’t guess what would happen and it really wasn’t about her. It was about what her deteriorating mental and physical state would do to Spencer. She was important to the extent that she was important to Spencer. 

The unsubs plan became clear as he pulled out a makeshift stand that looked like a prop from a horror film where someone’s eyes get removed. The stand, which M set down and then slotted the wooden frame into was so heavy that even he grunted as he set it down with a loud clanking sound on the floor. y/n closed her eyes and began trying to move away and toward the exit. But y/n wasn’t fast enough. She felt like she was running in knee-deep water as she moved and was quickly grabbed by the hair and pulled to the center of the room. y/n muttered, “Please no, please…” Her cries fell on deaf ears as M bound her hands to the rough wooden post with zip ties so tight that they felt like the plastic was cutting into her wrists. y/n dipped her head down but it was jerked up again as M set her chin on a portion of wood with a cut out for her chin. Just close enough to the skin of her neck was a sharp piece of metal that would slice at her jaw and chin if she tried to move her head; effectively keeping it in place as the unsub lowered a heavy plate for her head and secured it with screws on either side of her face like a vice. When the lights were turned on they were so bright that y/n tried to pull her head back but was stopped by her constraints. Even with her eyes closed the light was searing hot into her retinas and there was no espacing it. Even though the light was bright, y/n took this time to try and pry more information from the unsub as he moved close by her. 

y/n asked with false confidence, “Why do you hate him so much. He certainly doesn’t talk about you.” y/n appealed to his sense of ego which worked. She could hear his heavy footsteps fall silent. There was a long pause and M finally said, “I’d hurt you for that, but I’m planning on that already. If you think this is bad now just wait.”

The words were meant to intimidate y/n, but she knew there was nothing she could do right now but get info and try and relay it to the team. So she stayed firm and didn’t show how scared she felt. Again the silence seemed like a gulf between them but M liked the sound of his own voice and he continued, “And I don’t like the doctor because he bested me. And you did too funnily enough even though I don’t care about you. I applied to the FBI Academy twice. As a Vet with an interrogation specialization, I thought I was the perfect fit, but what happened? Jason Gideon picks some lousy, scrawny kid, and appoints him to the BAU straight out of college, and he didn’t even go to the academy when I DID. Then they hire some woman who ends up leaving under dubious circumstances anyway and then you you -- whore. I don’t know who you had to suck off to get onto that team but both you and the good doctor took a spot that I deserved. I got stuck working at a local college teaching government classes, but I was planning this too. I didn’t want it, but by God am I going to make the FBI regret picking either of you above me, because neither of you will be fit to serve when I’m finished? And I’m far far from finished with you. After M said this, he opened y/n’s right eyelid and instantly she was blinded further. It was with the full intensity of the lights on her that y/n did feel like she might be broken. She didn’t know if she could handle this. But the team stayed in her mind and she grit her teeth. She’d signed up for this, and y/n did her best to remain strong for as long as possible and not lose herself. Not yet, not when there was hope. And if that hope took the form of Spencer Reid, so let it be, it could hardly be a secret to her anymore anyway. Not after this. 

By the time the team got their next message from Mr. M. a few things had happened. The first was that Hotch and Rossi had crossed out a few sectors and limited the range of where y/n was likely being held. The second was that Penelope had caught a red eye and came down from the Quanitco field office to be closer to the action. Lastly, Spencer and Derek had made a solid guess from the tone of both letters that the unsub was likely in the military or the police force and had changed career paths to something like office work or business. This would explain his blunt prose yet stilted attempt at sounding academic or over-intelligent. The team was unprepared for when loud music blasted in their ears when Penelope opened the unlisted video link on her computer. Everyone covered their ears, and Garcia quickly turned down the volume. The team watched in horror, and Pen almost felt like she was going to be ill as the unsub circled y/n with a handheld camera. He zoomed in on y/n’s eyes which seemed glued open and directly facing a very bright light.

y/n was panting like she couldn’t breathe and she hardly looked alive anymore. Not that she wasn’t alive, just that her face was either so pained or slack with the torment that she was being put through that she couldn’t take anymore. All eyes were glued to the gruesome sight and it took a moment for anyone to notice that the music had cut out and the unsub was speaking. Garcia let out a sharp breath, skipped the video back ten seconds, and then raised the volume again. Once the music was cut, and in a calm voice M stated, “Smile little bird, you’re on camera. Have anything to say to the doctor?” y/n���s mouth moved for a moment before she let out a small breath and screamed in a worn and hoarse voice, “Oedipus and his lover, Mr. Dimmesdale was great at his job.” y/n cut herself off with a lot of coughing at the effort of even speaking. Even trying to say something. M pulled the camera back to get a better wide angle of y/n as the unsub said, “Isn’t she great? She sings such a pretty song. I hope you’re enjoying it doctor because I don’t know if she’ll be singing much longer.” 

While most of the team paid attention to what the unsub was saying as a coping mechanism of not having to fully process the mental agony that y/n was going through, Emily paid closer attention. Suddenly Prentiss said loudly, “Roll it back Pen. y/n is mouthing something while the unsub is talking. I’ve almost made it out. I just need to see it once more.” The team, who was looking at Spencer to interpret what y/n had just signaled, and some of whom feared that y/n’s mind was already cracking beyond repair, looked back at the screen as Garcia went back once more. Penelope muted Mr. M, and everyone’s attention went back to y/n, who was clearly mouthing something. Prentiss said softly, and then more loudly, “There are four lights?”  Hearing this Spencer couldn’t stop the tears that came to his eyes with relief, and he sagged with those words. Derek and Rossi helped support Spencer, and the team huddled around him as he brushed the tears aside and said, “She’s okay. She’s saying she’s okay with the ‘four lights’ line. He hasn’t ‘broken’ her yet. At least not her will….” Reid couldn’t stop himself from saying, like it was an inside thing between just y/n and him, “It’s another Star Trek thing.” 

Another thrill rang through the team at this news. They knew y/n was strong, but she was also a good actress as she had played up her first statement. It became less and less of a surprise that y/n and Reid had spent so much time together. That they knew each other so well. This interaction was just solidifying what they had already assumed. But the picture of y/n’s eyes glued open and looking at the bright light also stayed with the team. Reid had his hands in his hair in frustration now trying to parse out the clues that y/n had left him, but he couldn’t fully match those pieces of information with any one person he knew. Dr. Reid did have some enemies, he did work for the FBI after all, but he didn’t think about them like that often. He didn’t just have people hating him enough to go and kidnap and torture the person he cared about the most. His brain didn’t process things like that even though he had calculated the risk every member of the team took with each case. And he did make sure y/n’s score was lowered thanks to him. But it wasn’t clicking because his brain was doing too much. Reid had jotted down a list of people that might come after him for various reasons and he’d given it to everyone in the BAU to see if they had any ideas. Of course, Penelope had made a whole spreadsheet and also found all the information about each person on the list as well. Spencer had gone over those fifteen names thousands of times now and was doing it again, trying to expand it to make something fit. 

Emily finally broke his train of thought and asked, “Spence, what about the other things y/n said? Is that more Star Trek stuff? It honestly sounded like a foreign language to me.” Only after Prentiss said this did Spencer realize that the rest of the BAU didn’t get all the references or implications in y/n’s words. Reid took a steadying breath while he composed himself. Aaron and Rossi simultaneously pulled out legal pads and pens to try and keep up with Reid’s speaking speed. Spencer started with the first part of y/n’s shouted sentence, saying, “Well. It’s kind of Star Trek. You actually just made me think of that Emily.” The parts and y/n’s wit began to click better and Spence continued, “We have to go back to the thing y/n said in her first letter about Tangra.” The team nodded and Hotch was already writing furiously, his hand gripping white on the pen in his grasp. “So Pircard can’t understand Dathon because their species speak only in metaphors, so I think y/n is giving us, me, a metaphor about who the unsub is.” This is where Hotch jumped in and said, “Then it’s not directly related to Trek. Just a way of signaling something. The first part of her metaphor was a reference to Oedipus Rex.” Everyone’s eyes moved to Aaron and they seemed surprised, but he brushed off their apparent shock at his classical literature knowledge and continued for those who didn’t get the reference, “Oedipus Rex is a tragedy about a prophecy that the son of a king will end of killing his father and marrying his mother. The king is horrified and has his newborn son, Oedipus, arranged to be killed. The man meant to kill him takes pity on the baby and spares him, thus many years later the prophecy comes true.” 

Spencer nodded along, and Garcia couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Wow, that’s really messed up.” Before Aaron could remind the technical analyst that it was a thousand-year-old work of fiction, Reid replied, “Yes, Oedipus does end up fulfilling the prophecy, but he didn’t want to. He doesn’t even know about it until later and he leaves his town to try and not fulfill his destiny, but he ends up doing that anyway. That’s why is a tragedy.” The team took in the information and Rossi offered, “So the unsub wanted to do the right thing but ended up doing the worst possible option?” Spence nodded along and then said, “And the second part about Mr. Dimmesdale being good at his job, I assume that’s a reference to The Scarlet Letter. Arthur Dimmessdale is the pastor who gets the protagonist pregnant and ends up being shunned from the Puritan society.” Emily asked, “So are we looking for someone who was thrown away for no reason? Or for doing something that appears bad?” Spencer nodded no, and thought through his list again, expanding it to the new parameters saying, “No. y/n specifically mentioned Dimmesdale, so I think we’re looking for a man. Clearly, Mr. Dimmesdale didn’t love his job because he did something that he shouldn’t have done either. He ends up having a breakdown because he can’t keep his secret. He ends up getting publicly humiliated.” 

The team thought for a moment and Penelope asked, “So is there someone you ended up humiliating enough to do something this horrible? I mean, not intentionally, but like when you were in grad school or at the Bureau? Anything?” Reid shook his head unknowingly. He couldn’t place someone he had specifically wronged except for those he’d put in prison, and thankfully many of those men and women were already dead or sentenced to life, but a picture started forming in Hotch’s head. The Unit Chief stated, “I don’t think you’d know him. Or have even met him, yet? Oedipus didn’t know his father when he killed him. He only figured that out later. So this is more about what you did to him than anything else.” Dave looked at Aaron and asked, “Do you have an idea of who he is?”  Hotch nodded and said, “Yes. This was while Jason was still here and you were ‘retired.’ You know Gideon hand-picked Spencer for the BAU much to the chagrin of the director. But it wasn’t only them, there were other members of the academy who wanted Reid’s spot. There were a few NATS that were more than flustered. Jason and I fielded quite a few complaints. There was one man in particular, an ex-Marine who threatened Gideon and me. That instantly excluded him from our recruiting, and once Gideon invited Reid, we started getting real threats. That man dropped off the map, but he continued sending threats through alternative accounts, and many were targets to you, Spencer. Garcia took care of them actually, took care of blocking them so you didn’t ever see them.” 

Spencer looked up at Hotch shocked and said, “Why didn’t you ever tell me this.” Hotch dropped his head and said, “You were so young Spencer. So much was happening in your life at that time and Jason and I thought it was for the best. I apologize. That was a mistake.” Reid let out a breath, knowing now wasn’t the time to be upset with Aaron. Instead, he asked, “Do you still have his contact information? Do you have anything at all on him?” Before Aaron could even reply, Penelope said, “I do. I keep everything, and this time it’s legal. Any threats that are filed against an agent or a former agent are kept in a database that I helped update.” Morgan said with a happiness he hadn’t felt since arriving in Kansas, “God bless you, woman. Now is the time to show us those computer skills of yours” Penelope smiled and turned back toward her screen, cracking her knuckles, “Glady my friends. Watch me do my thing.” 

y/n slumped onto the ground limp. When M finally released her from the contraption that had held her in place, y/n was too overwhelmed to do anything else but lie. Once the light in front of her had been turned off, she felt like she was in an abyss of black. Even though the man had unglued her eyelids after what felt like an eternity. Just being in front of the light with her eyes shut was still like looking at the sun without shades. Again time was a reality that had left y/n out of place, out of being. It could have been months or years since she’d been bound since she’d been put in this place. Because of the loud noise from the speakers M had brought in, y/n couldn’t hear him moving around. Her ears were constantly ringing even though the sound had ceased. Besides that, y/n didn’t have the energy to try and figure out what was happening around her; she knew whatever it was wasn’t good. At this point, y/n didn’t even feel she was in her own body anymore. She was somewhere else entirely. 

y/n didn’t register anything much apart from pain until the unsub, who had set up the room as a trap, started a livestream that he sent to Spencer, and kicked her in the side. The sharp pain radiated up y/n’s ribcage and she let out a moan though her voice was gone from screaming. Even M had to shout and shake y/n to get her to hear him say, “I’m letting you go. All you have to do is get to the door. You’re useless to me now. I don’t see your doctor coming to save you, so you might as well get out. I guess you’re not as important to him as I thought you were.” Deep down, y/n knew that the man wouldn’t let her go. She’d not leave this place alive. She also knew she was special to Spencer. That he would do anything for her, and that he and the team were still looking for her, but she was so tired and mentally broken that she began to believe it. It felt like for no reason other than to just move instead of being killed not trying, that y/n began to move on the floor. She was too weak to even get on her hands and knees.

Instead, she just moved on her stomach in a direction even though she couldn’t see anything except bright spots covering most of her vision. The rest was so blurry that it only added to the migraine she already had. y/n hardly noticed that there was glass on the ground until the warmth of the blood from her stomach made her realize in horror that she was crawling on a sea of broken glass. y/n stopped and M began berating her for not being strong enough. Not having the willpower to want to get away. That he had won. It took the last of y/n’s strength to speak her mind. To tell the man the truth. She knew it would get her killed, faster, but she would have a clear mind. 

“You’re an idiot.” Y/n couldn’t hear her own voice, but she assumed M was listening and she didn’t let anything he did distract her from continuing, “You are the dumbest person I’ve met. You got Spencer all wrong. You don’t understand him at all. He might like me, and I like him too, but Spence isn’t some weirdo who doesn’t have any friends. He doesn’t stay up at night plotting revenge on people or thinking of zany puzzles because he’s so bored and doesn’t have friends. Spencer is a smart guy, but that intelligence doesn’t push him away from people or relationships. He’s just a smart guy who works for the FBI. It’s clear to me that you’re the weirdo with no friends, and you’re just going to have to accept that you couldn’t cut it in the FBI, forever. It sucks to suck.” Mr. M moved to grab a knife he had brought in the room to finish the job. He couldn’t handle y/n insulting him,  and he was going to finish her off, slowly. He had very little restraint when he was scorned. Before he could get to y/n, he was knocked back by a load of gunfire as the BAU along with a SWAT team swarmed into the room. y/n was so far gone that she couldn’t even tell as Reid knelt next to her and wept. 

The next few days stretched into apparent eternity for many of the team. y/n was taken immediately to the hospital, accompanied by Spencer and Emily, while Derek and Aaron took the unsub into custody for interrogation and criminal proceedings. Rossi, JJ, and Penelope stayed behind to handle the police presence, forensics teams, and clean-up process. In part, the BAU was relieved to find y/n still alive, it was a weight lifted, but the reports from y/n’s team of doctors at the hospitals painted such a picture of pain and mental suffering that y/n must have endured that it broke their hearts. How they could ever forgive themselves for what had happened, to y/n? They didn’t know. But they had to keep moving because that was what the job required. That was the nature of the work, and they all prayed that y/n would get better, and also understand what they had to do. 

Spencer felt shielded from most of the work side of things, as he stayed mostly at the hospital and heard the doctors and nurses' multifaceted and comprehensive care plan for y/n with the majority of it working on how to deal with y/n’s partial loss of vision, mental health, PTSD, and the chronic pain that would likely come in the months ahead. Spencer took in this information and researched and planned and found medical trials and anything that he thought might help. He mostly did this to fill the time. y/n had been put in a medical coma to help facilitate her physical healing. Spencer knew in the end that no amount of research he did it would but y/n It would be up to her to want to keep living after this. And given all that she’d been through, he wouldn’t blame her if she decided to just be whatever was left of herself because of him. Reid was trying to take in the very real possibility that she might never want to see him again given that being his friend had made this fate happen to her. Spence was only out of the hospital when another member of the team tagged him out for a day or a few hours. Even then, Spencer didn’t rest. He just tossed and turned. 

When y/n was taken out of her coma four days later, it was Penelope who was there when her fingers twitched on the sheets and felt the crisp material. y/n’s eyes opened, seeing only the blurred brightness of the room which she quickly closed them again. Garcia leaned forward in her chair and said softly, “I’m here y/n. You just rest for now.” Penelope stayed with y/n for the next few hours as the doctors and nurse checked on y/n’s vitals and her sight and she lay exhausted in every way, just let these things happen to her. Her mind was somewhere else. It wasn’t in the hospital room, part of it was still on the team, like an outsider looking in, and part of it was at her apartment watering the one plant she’d kept alive since college, and another was in the park where they sold a t/c/s that she loved to drink and people watch with, but the majority of her brain was still in that freezer, waiting for death, waiting for the worst to happen. And even though part of her mind knew she was alive and being helped, it couldn’t register beyond what had happened to her. y/n stayed in this state of being in and out of herself and her body for another day. The next time y/n came back to herself, it was still Penelope sitting by her. 

Garcia came back into the waiting room where Spencer was, as always, sitting and waiting for news, waiting for anything. Penelope walked over to him and leaned over his seated form. Reid looked up at her, his brown eyes lit up slightly. He asked something quietly back and Penelope nodded her head. Spencer got up and shook out his legs. They’d gotten stiff with all his awkward sitting positions. He followed Garica and a nurse to y/n’s room and took the place where the blonde and spunky Technical analyst had been for the last two hours. The nurse gave Reid a few words before leaving the room. The mood shifted a bit. Penelope just lit up a room where as Spencer brought a more calm mood to the room. He looked around the space which he’d seen while y/n was unconscious. It was still light, a sad beige color, and lots of pretty soft flowers from the team and friends. It seemed that Reid could look everywhere but y/n. The nurse and Penelope had both warned him that y/n still hadn’t said a word since she had woken up apart from his name. Reid didn’t expect y/n to just become whole because he was near her, but the fact that y/n had called for him had given him hope. But as his eyes finally landed on her face which was healing from the heavy bruising she’d received, her eyes remained mostly closed, but every now and then they opened, took in whatever they could, and then closed again. One time she turned her head slightly toward Spencer, and he wondered if she could even see him, or if she knew he was there. 

It wasn’t until the next day that y/n said in a very soft and hoarse voice, “Spence?” that Reid looked up from his lap and shifted forward in his chair. He didn’t want to be imagining things, but y/n’s voice had been so faint that he could have just made his name up. Anyhow, he softly replied, “Yes, y/n. I’m here.” y/n swallowed and turned her face toward him. She couldn’t see him, but she’d left like he was there. It didn’t seem like Penelope anymore but given how she’d felt, and the things that weren’t real that she’d seen before being saved had messed up her sense of reality. Hearing Spencer’s response helped, and she held back a sob as she asked, “How do I know you’re real? How do I know if any of this is real?”

Spencer desperately wanted to take her hand and reassure her that everything was going to be fine, but he didn’t want to promise things he couldn’t guarantee. He also knew touching y/n might make her nervous and panicked. Spencer looked over y/n and replied, “It’s real because you know it is. Because you’re strong enough to wake up and talk. Because maybe life isn’t so cruel to let this be a dream for either of us.” y/n turned her head toward him again and tried to make out his face. She’d have liked to see what he looked like right now. Was he sad, relieved, or feeling as empty as she was? She wanted to know because she didn’t know how to feel or act or do. For now, there wasn’t more than resting and waiting to see if this was all a charade. To see if she’d suddenly jerk awake to see death in the face again. To be back with M. again. For now, she let out a sigh and tried to feel anything in her body. Her pain receptors were either shot from what she’d been through or she was on so much pain medication that it was intentional. Either way seemed preferable, and yet the pain had grounded her in her time in captivity and now that it was gone there was a strange void where it had pulsed all over her body. y/n rested her head in a more comfortable position and let the sleepiness come back to drag her back under. 

The rest of the BAU shuffled through sitting with y/n as Spencer got his mandated rest and time off ordered by Aaron. The presence of the others and the changes in the atmosphere with each of them helped y/n pull herself back together. The next time Spencer came back she was slightly more herself. She was sitting up on a few pillows and she sensed when Reid stepped into the room. They sat together for a few minutes in silence before y/n said, “The last time you were here you said I was strong. But I don’t feel strong Spencer. I feel broken. I mean I am broken. I can’t see anything and my hearing’s shot too.” Reid bit his lower lip and thought for a bit before responding. He could tell her that she was very likely to get her hearing back and that her vision would improve in time. That with time and care she could resume a pretty normal life. 

But a pretty normal life didn’t feel fair. None of this felt fair, and Spencer knew that. He also knew that the team in charge of y/n’s care would have told her that as well. They would have been doing everything that would attempt to boost her spirits. As it was like Spencer to do, he chose to go with a more metaphorical take on things. It was one of the things that had drawn y/n to him in the first place, and he hoped it would bring her comfort now. He focused on her hands which were gripping the sheets tightly as he said, “No one chooses to be broken y/n. That’s not their fault, but that doesn’t mean that the thing isn’t beautiful, it’s just changed.” y/n let out a breath and said, “I’m not Fitzgerald or Beethoven. I don’t think the tortured broken artist thing will work for me. I’m just a profiler. Was just a profiler.” Spencer could see the disappointment and pain on her face, and he replied, “Not that exactly, but your knowledge about art and literature did make it possible for us to find you. I was useless on this case, and I’m so, so sorry for that. You saved yourself on this one, and given what you’ve been through, you deserve a good life after this, a peaceful life if you want it.” 

y/n wanted to believe Spencer, but his speech so far was giving, “A broken clock is correct twice a day,” and that wasn’t the most uplifting thing she’d heard so far. She didn’t know what she wanted after this. Didn’t know how to want anything after she’d thought she would die over and over again. However, y/n knew that Spence wasn’t done yet. It was a tell in his cadence, and just as y/n expected, he continued, “Have you ever heard of kintsugi?” y/n nodded her head no, and Reid explained, “It’s a form of Japanese pottery. When a plate or vase or anything that’s been fired breaks; the potter puts the pieces back together with gold.” y/n let out a breath, it sounded like a beautiful thing, and it was a nice metaphor, but her pessimistic side said, “So I’m just a broken thing and painted pretty so I’m not a profit-loss?” Spencer sighed and said, “No. What I’m trying to say is that. What I’m trying to say is that things that are broken still have value and beauty. They still deserve to be cared for and looked after. They’re different, but it’s still a precious thing. It is to me at least.”

y/n couldn’t hold back the tears that were now overspilling from the corners of her eyes, and she moved her hand out, palm open. An invitation to let Spencer take it, which he did. Spencer bowed his head over their joined hands and y/n felt his soft hair on her skin. It was the first time she’d felt grounded since waking up. It was the first time she felt real again. y/n sniffled and said, “I don’t know what to do Spence. I don’t know who I am anymore.” Reid nodded and said while gently squeezing her hand said, “I know. And you don’t have to know that right now. Every part of you is still there, but it’s going to be a hard time to dig those things back out of yourself. Maybe some of them you’ll want to leave behind. But I want to be with you as you try to become this new version of you. If you’ll let me. I was such an idiot y/n. I’m so sorry,” y/n nodded and said, “Don’t be. I don’t regret it, Spencer. It’s worth it to know you. I want you here, please.” 

Spencer nodded, and y/n felt tears that weren’t her own on her hand and arm now as Spence ever so lightly brushed his lips over her knuckles. Neither of them said it, but the love in the room was so much more than what it had been before. Perhaps it wasn’t the fluffy teenage love they could have had if none of this had happened, but it was clearer now than ever, and that was worth it. There was a future in that, whatever it looked like. After a few moments y/n asked, “Can you read to me? I knew you had a book in your lap before I said anything and the quiet is slowly driving me insane.” Spencer sat up and said, “Well it’s just a collection of Ginsberg poems and I know you don’t like Ginsberg.” y/n scoffed lightly and retorted, “What do you mean, I love Ginsberg.” Reid shook his head and said, “Liar.” y/n pouted like a child at being read so easily and said, “Fine, but maybe I love Ginsberg when you’re reading him to me. Please?” Spencer chuckled and said, “Anything for you, y/n. Anything.” As Spencer began reading, and y/n listened, neither of them thought about the future or the past, they were just there, and for now, that was as meaningful as gold holding something broken yet precious together.

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[agena87]

Anselme Parmentier for @akitasimblr's Mad About Dodo BC

Age: 24 Gender: Male Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: gay Aspiration: Extreme Sports Enthusiast Traits: Loves outdoors, adventurous, self-confident A few likes (the rest should stay a secret still): mischief, fitness, gossip, pop music A few dislikes (he's a man of mysteries - not really but still - and should only tell you some of his): homebodies, cooking, small talk

---

Anselme was born in Windenburg but spent almost all his life far away from his home country. He's the only child of a couple of eternal globetrotters who have always been determined to show the world to their child and teach him about the beauty of it. He's always been a very energetic and active boy, and never refused a challenge. He started being attracted to dangerous and thrilling activities at a very young age. He was only ten when he learned to dive from cliffs, and bungee jumped for the first time when he was only thirteen. He's also been practising snowboarding and skiing since he was four, and clubbing since he was seven. Not the biggest romantic there is, Anselme still hope to find someone to share his life and passions. And forget about the man who managed to break both his leg (accidentally) and his heart (not-so-accidentally, the bloody cheater!) at the same time.

---

PRIVATE DL

[yarameijer]

On Keshin and Hissatsu

OKAY SO BUCKLE UP Y’ALL CUZ I’M GONNA RANT ABOUT KESHIN AND HISSATSU, or at least my interpretation of it, SO LET’S GO. Also I apply anime logics so shhh some things will be questionable (but we’re literally talking about GIANT SPORT AVATARS AND MAGICAL SUPER SHOTS so what did you expect????)

(This does not take the games into account, by the way, so there might be inconsistencies.)

I guess the place to start is simple: what are Keshin?

According to the Inazuma wiki, officially Keshin are described as “the ability to show a user's spiritual energy”, literally translated as their “fighting spirit”. This, obviously, doesn't tell us much. From the Keshin development we see in the anime, mostly from Tenma, this ‘’spiritual energy’’ seems to be a thing that people already have, just unused and out of reach until they are adequately motivated to use it. Tenma shows signs of his Keshin aura in the very first episode, when he stops Tsurugi’s Death Sword, a moment where he was highly determined and completely focused on one task - requirements for ‘unlocking’ a Keshin. Shortly after Shindou unlocks his Keshin, again during a moment with very high stakes and his resolve is clear (‘’fighting spirit’’).

It’s safe to assume that before a Keshin is unlocked as a Keshin, it’s already present simply as spiritual energy that’s not noticeable in daily life. Through training and willpower, it can be mastered and revealed and take on the shape of a large avatar that is specific to its user, which is classified as a Keshin.

This idea is again further supported by comparing Tenma and Shindou’s situation - both without any prior Keshin training but responding to a very high stakes moment, and yet Shindou is the one who actually manifests a Keshin while Tenma merely shows signs. Why? Because Shindou is an experienced soccer player and Tenma, while having done his own training, is still a newbie. Tenma begins showing more signs of Keshin usage throughout the anime while also becoming a better soccer player and likely increasing his stamina.

Which is one of two parts that I imagine is necessary for Keshin usage. Willpower/determination and physical training. Using a Keshin - controlling this spiritual energy - will take its toll on the physical body. After all, it’s stated multiple times in the anime and the movie that you can only call forth a Keshin a limited amount in a short time and that SEEDs can increase this limit through training - furthermore, whenever Keshin users say they’re at their limit, it’s coupled with them being out of breath, looking tired, sometimes kneeling on the ground. Clearly, using a Keshin is demanding on the body. Therefore to use a Keshin, someone needs to be physically fit enough to handle the strain.

The second part, willpower, is likely why not every adequate soccer player has a Keshin. It takes tremendous resolve and especially Fifth Sector’s type of soccer - controlled, decided, flat - does not bring the type of situations where someone would find themselves in a position to reveal their Keshin. I imagine that after Fifth Sector has been demolished, Keshin usage increases. But not only does a Keshin take willpower, it also takes focus. That was Tenma’s problem in the anime; he wasn’t focused enough in situations where he otherwise showed signs of Keshin usage, which makes sense.

Remember when he first gains his Keshin? Endou puts him as keeper, to get him to focus. Tenma is a midfielder, a dribbling expert, and ‘the wind’ is literally used as a metaphor for him, all the time. Tenma’s fluid, constant movement, flowing around obstacles rather than hitting them head-on; he’s an incredibly dynamic player and the whole field is his stage, there’s no standing still for him, there’s no pure, single-minded focus when he’s constantly looking for new places to move towards. Putting him as keeper grounds him in a way nothing else does. He can’t move away because he’ll leave the goal vulnerable, and when faced with a frontal attack? He finally focuses.

So that’s how someone gains a Keshin. To be honest, I quite enjoyed the slow buildup we got for Demon God Pegasus - Tenma showing signs, not even realizing it himself in those moments, training for it, having specific training to handle the blockade - I would’ve liked to see more of that with other characters, rather than them getting their Keshin with no prior warning. Would’ve been very interesting and also given more insight to their character and playing style!

But now for the next question - what designs a Keshin? They’re all highly diverse, yet some people have the same ones. And ooh this is a part I like.

Who have diverse Keshin? The entire Raimon cast. Strong individual players of other teams.

Who share Keshin? Nameless SEEDs.

Yeahhh. Fifth Sector obviously has an interest in Keshin - they’re ridiculously powerful when you don’t have a Keshin yourself - but as mentioned before, their soccer leaves a lot to the imagination. It's not a great way to stimulate developing a Keshin. However, Fifth Sector has a specialized secluded training facility for SEEDs. Yes, I'm talking about God Eden. 

God Eden, where these types of scenes are apparently normal.

I quote. “Bring out your Keshin. If you don’t, you will lose your life!” What kind of training is this? 

Also, who did we see with “standard” Keshin? Oh, I remember! Zero and Dragon Link. Teams that are both about as indoctrinated as they can get.

Brainwashing, abusive training, who knows what else Fifth Sector does to make their perfect soldiers. Whereas everyone who's developed a Keshin naturally has their own individual Keshin, with bright colors and details that match their person, these SEEDs seem to have been stripped of their entire identity for the sake of gaining a Keshin - ones that, I headcanon, might even have their own specific training regimes with the purpose to gain that specific Keshin.

As for everyone else… their Keshin are, above all else, individual, and fit their personality. Tsurugi has a knight. Shindou has a music conductor, a puppet master, someone who ‘leads’ and instructs other people - and Shindou is a strategist before all else (with a musical background too). Taiyou, literal sunshine child, has the Greek sun god as his Keshin.

Anyway, I’m getting back into Keshin designs in a bit, because I first need to talk about something else.

Hissatsu.

What are hissatsu, and how are they related to Keshin? Officially, they are simply described as “special techniques”, nothing more. One thing we can,  however, gather is that they’re very similar, and both involve some sort of energy that somehow can be manipulated and visualized. I assume that at the very least, they’ve got the same source, and if Keshin are ‘’spiritual energy’’ then hissatsu are, to a certain degree, the same thing.

Remember how I mentioned everyone has spiritual energy, despite not having a Keshin? This ties into that.

Hissatsu, while having technically the same source as Keshin, are applied in different ways, ‘easier’ ways. Less control is needed. Rather than bringing out and visualizing all of your spiritual energy like with a Keshin, you just manipulate part of it; you visualize something and combine it with physical movements (to varying degrees), in which the physical movement is either a way to center yourself for said energy manipulation or actual part of the technique.

Like, in some cases of hissatsu you've got these movements in which people are just standing still and doing something seemingly unnecessary. The easiest I can come up with is Manabe in Galaxy with his ‘’Defense Equation’’.

See? He stands there and simply writes an equation in the air, he doesn’t do anything considered ‘useful’ in soccer; doesn’t tackle anyone, doesn’t try to get in their way or interfere physically.This is genuinely just a way for him to focus and center himself in order to manipulate and shape the energy however he wants to. Then, when the opponent is distracted, he just takes the ball from them.

However, a lot of other hissatsu actually incorporate the movement in how they function! For example, Soyokaze Step - this hissatsu focuses a lot more on Tenma's actual movement, and doesn't even have that many ''special effects''; in this case the energy manipulation is less obvious, rather in increasing his speed/agility and giving himself a boost of speed. The actual outcome, however, is fully dependent on his actual movement.

And then there's something that’s used by both types of hissatsu that I wanted to mention: misdirection. What Manabe does is both a way to center himself, and also part of the technique to confuse or distract his opponents - and some hissatsu specifically have the aim of distracting opponents without having any physical effect. Shindou’s Olympus Harmony is actually a pretty good example for this!

Does Shindou actually do anything physical? Nah, but getting a blast of light to the face is gonna throw you off for a couple seconds either way, right? This is misdirection in its simplest form, and there are several shots that work this way - Kidou's Illusion Ball, for example.

But more physical-based hissatsu do this too, all the time!

You've got shots like Mach Wind, where the energy doesn't seem to have any purpose beyond putting on a fancy light show (which I imagine is an aesthetic choice), but you've also got hissatsu, like the penguin shoots, in which there's an actual specific and recognizable form to it rather than just a blob of energy. The “energy manipulation” in this case both serves a function and adds to distracting the opponent. Other shots, like Tsurugi's usual shots, could also function as an intimidation technique.

So that's the mechanism behind hissatsu, with varying degrees of energy manipulation, physical movement and misdirection, ranging from almost fully energy manipulation-based techniques like Shindou's Olympus Harmony to Tenma's physically based Soyokaze Step.

Basically, someone thinks of a technique that uses energy manipulation, whether as a distraction or to enhance themselves or the ball, and then they sort of work it out in terms of energy manipulation and physical movements until it works, which would also explain the 'upgraded' or 'remastered' shots - they're technically the same shots, but with small differences that improve the way they work without actually being noticeable.

The difference with Keshin is that Keshin utilize all of a person’s spiritual energy; they manifest and visualize all of it, whereas hissatsu just extend a little bit of it (maybe even energy from the surroundings, depending on how you imagine the “spiritual energy” works). Furthermore, hissatsu are always action-based, whereas Keshin are not. Keshin can be visualized and not utilized in any way beyond that; but a hissatsu has a very specific method and order and while their end result may vary (Tenma saving the goat), they can't just... pull it up and push a 'pause' button, Tenma can't just stop in the midst of Soyokaze Step, or Gouenji with Fire Tornado, they have to complete the movement for it to have an effect. Whereas you can just pull up a Keshin and sort of have it just hover behind you ominously, and then you can decide what to do with it - Keshin hissatsu are the result of that, because in that case you first pull up your Keshin and then actively guide it into a hissatsu - which obviously makes it more powerful because you're putting a Keshin's energy (AKA all of your visualized spiritual energy) into it.

And this explains why Keshin can be trained. Someone who's new to their Keshin would likely visualize it and then use that energy all at once, like you’re bringing down a wooden pole with a wrecking ball, whereas someone who's had training can visualize all of their spiritual energy but only actually use a little bit of it if they so desire - and therefore maximize the productivity of it. AKA, that's why Shindou passed out after he used his Keshin for the first time. There was very little finesse in what he did there, he just used it all up at once.

If we then get back to specific Keshin designs, this is a direct result of hissatsu techniques.

To have a Keshin is to visualize all of your spiritual energy, so why does it take the shape of some fantasy game avatar? For soccer players, who have learnt energy manipulation in the form of hissatsu, it actually is the most likely way they'd express it. They manipulate Keshin energy the same way they'd manipulate hissatsu energy.

The standard Keshin form is also likely caused by the way that Fifth Sector developed and taught it. They were likely involved in the research on Keshin and the methods in which they are used. To be honest, Keshin actually look like they might have been inspired by Endou's hissatsu techniques. Big giant godlike creatures? Sound familiar? I imagine Fifth Sector would have studied hissatsu, and realized that hissatsu techniques that brought out a lot of a person's spiritual energy had one thing in common: giant avatars hovering behind them. And so they tried to enhance that even more, and thus Keshin were discovered.

Anyway, like I said, the way spiritual energy is manipulated for Keshin usage is based on the way you'd use hissatsu. No one learns a Keshin first - rather, they learn hissatsu, they design hissatsu, they figure out what works best for them, they basically develop this sort of ''style'' - Endou with his personas, Tenma and Kazemaru with wind, Fubuki with snow and ice. And that depends on a person’s creativity and imagination.

(And that’s without mentioning any specific talents they might have - strategy, or attack, or defending, or dribbling.)

When learning how to use a Keshin, the goal is to ‘bring out all of your spiritual energy’ with no clear image beyond a giant floating avatar. In this process the energy is sort of allowed free reign in 'designing' it and thus will ‘flow’ in a way that comes natural to them - the way they use it for hissatsu. Therefore, a Keshin will mimic whatever style someone has developed for themselves. I imagine the specific shape will then be a mix of how they’d use their hissatsu and the underlying perception of themselves, or perhaps the desire of what they want to be.

And that is why Taiyou’s Keshin is a sun god whereas Shindou’s is a music conductor and Tsurugi’s is a knight.

Well, that was my take on Keshin and hissatsu, I hope you enjoyed it! I hope to eventually upload more of these rants of mine on other topics as well, if people are interested.

[toast-tales]

Cursed Cravings, Chapter 15: Over the Threshold

In which Danny finally returns home, and finds that Nathan hasn't been the only one awaiting her return. Contains: 3.8k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

The next morning came too quickly, and in no time at all Danny was standing in the entryway of Christopher’s manor, staring out at a world that seemed impossibly huge. She knew it was an illusion, and that she was only tiny inside the house, but it still made her stomach turn to see trees bigger than the tallest buildings in the world, rising into the sky like a biblical affront to the heavens themselves. 

She chose instead to turn and face Christopher. The giant knelt down beside her, holding a traveling pack full of supplies that was big enough to fit Danny and every single animal from the farm back home within it, with room to spare. 

“Are you ready?” he said quietly, managing a paper-thin smile as he gestured lightly towards the open door. He held up the pack. “Everything you need for a day’s journey should be in here. And—” he continued, noticing the way her eyes widened. “Don’t worry. It’ll be your size when it leaves the mansion.” 

Danny laughed, far and away used to all manner of magic strangeness by now. “Oh, really? I thought you were going to have me drag something bigger than a house through the woods. My bad.” 

The giant simply rolled his eyes, though she could see his grin become a little warmer.

Then Danny’s eyes widened as she realized a rather critical oversight. “Wait! I don’t…didn’t Nathan take our horse? How am I—”

“You’ll take one of mine,” Christopher interjected, having clearly thought this through more than she had. 

She tilted her head to the side, suddenly curious. “You have horses?” 

“Sam takes care of them,” he said, sadly. “I haven’t seen them in a long time, though.”

She wondered what a giant who couldn’t leave the house would need horses for, but thought it was the wrong time to ask questions. Maybe he lent them out to other people he’d eaten. She nodded. “Thank you. That’s…um, very generous of you.” 

Christopher managed a melancholy smile. “Say hello to Maria for me. She was…I’ve heard she was always the sweetest.” 

Danny nodded, and then took a long, deep breath. “Alright. I guess I’ll be going then.” She met Christopher’s eyes one last time, wondering how best to wish her giant friend goodbye. She had little time to wonder before he extended a hand towards her palm up—though when she reached out to it, he grasped her hand lightly between his fingers, holding it so that the back of her hand faced upwards. And then, the giant bent down even closer to the ground, almost on all fours as he placed his lips delicately against the back of her hand as a formal farewell. 

She stayed completely still, eyes wide as he nearly prostrated himself before her. His long hair spilled onto the floor around her before he let her hand go and raised his head again, looking just a little bit more proud of himself than before.

“Be well, Danny.” 

She regained control of her senses and gave him a good-natured smirk in return, along with a somewhat playful curtsy. “You too, Christopher.” 

She turned to face the threshold again, eyes focused on the floor ahead of her and the point she needed to cross to reach the outside world. She took another deep breath and made a few determined steps forward.

Immediately, the landscape before her changed, and for the first time in nearly a month, she was in a world that was her size again. The trees were no longer an unfamiliar height, the floor was no longer an endless ocean of tile, and—

She whipped around, and there he was—Christopher Penn, the giant, gazing at her at eye level.

They stared at each other, neither quite knowing what to say. There was an indecipherable expression on Christopher’s face, something full of longing and a sadness she couldn’t understand the depth of. And, shared between them both, a sense of wonder—both of them seeing more detail of their friend than they’d been afforded before. 

Without thinking, she reached out as if to touch him—but the minute her hand crossed the doorframe, it disappeared, falling short of him. A glance down revealed that her hand was now far below her, tiny and hovering near her feet on the other side of the door. 

She quickly yanked it back, feeling queasy at the sight, and gave Christopher an apologetic grin. 

He narrowed his eyes as if in thought. Wordlessly, he placed his own hand in front of him, spreading it out in midair as if there was an invisible wall in the open door frame—and she thought that perhaps, for him, there actually was.

She mirrored his action and slowly placed her own palm against where his rested, careful not to cross the doorframe’s magical barrier as she did so. 

She couldn’t feel the warmth of another person’s hand against hers—but the look in Christopher’s face as she did this, the look of surprise that became a genuine, almost childlike happiness—it was more than enough to make up for it. 

It was so strange to see Christopher at her size—just a normal man, at least in appearance. Still taller than her, but by comparison it was hardly a noticeable difference at all. He seemed much less imposing, and she realized most of his confident air and authority must have come from his towering height. 

Because now, at eye level, he seemed much more like a sad, uncertain child who just wanted a friend. 

He was the first to take his hand away, and he lifted up the pack in his other hand. “Sam—”

Instantly, an invisible force plucked the bag from Christopher’s hands and flew it over the door frame, into Danny’s waiting arms. Unlike Danny, it didn’t change its size when it left Christopher’s house. She slung it across her back, and gave the giant—though it was strange now to think of him as such—one last wave goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, bastard.” 

He nodded solemnly, his smile fading slowly. “Soon, doll.” 

* * * * * * * * * *

The trip back home wasn’t nearly as oppressive as the one she’d taken to get to the giant’s mansion. For one, she at least had Sam to keep her company occasionally through the mirror—she never had to press them hard for conversation. The food she’d been given was delicious, and there was plenty enough for her to not have to worry about rationing it out for the day. Christopher had also lent her a traveling cloak that far surpassed her own in quality and warmth, and likely was worth more than her and Nathan’s entire house.

Why would a giant who can’t leave his house need a traveling cloak? 

There were so many other things in her mind that those thoughts about Christopher never lingered long. It didn’t matter to her what kind of strange life her friend lived, now that she had seen what she assumed must have been Christopher’s most grievous secret laid bare before her. 

She didn’t regret keeping her memories, of course, but the events of last night were hard to banish from her mind entirely on that long journey home, just as they had been hard to forget about last night when she’d tried to sleep.

She itched with impatience the entire way, desperate to get home to Nathan, and plagued by worry the entire way—she occasionally checked the mirror for him, just to be sure his condition wasn’t worsening. 

Finally, just before dusk, the path widened and revealed a familiar landscape before her, and the old farmhouse she called home came into view.

She almost leaped off of the horse—Maria, Sam had said—but maintained her better judgment to lead her to the shoddy stables first and set her up there before sprinting across the snow to the house, a feeling of exhilaration rising up in her lungs. She felt like she could have shouted with joy. 

She was home. 

“Nathan!” she called, before she’d even reached the door. “Nate!”

The door opened just before she’d made it to the house, and within its frame stood Nathan, hardly any different than how she’d remembered him last. His eyes widened before a huge smile came across his face, and without a second thought he scooped her into a bear hug and spun her around, both of them laughing without a care in the world.

“Danny, oh my god, it feels like it’s been so long!” He gently set her down onto the ground again, though he didn’t relinquish his hug. “I’m so glad you’re back. I’ve missed you so much.”

She buried her face in Nathan’s shirt, which brought with it the familiar scents of earth and warmth she was accustomed to. “I missed you too,” she said, her voice nearly breaking with raw emotion. 

Their hug was interrupted by a spasming cough from Nathan, who quickly backed up to try and cover it. 

Danny almost shoved him back into the house. “Hey, get out of the cold. You’re sick!” She pushed him forward and closed the door firmly behind her. At least there was some warmth in the house from a crackling fireplace further in.

“I’m fine, Danny, I’m just—” He coughed again, and she could tell he sounded worse than when she’d watched him last night. 

She immediately took off the cloak Christopher had given her and wrapped it around Nathan’s broad shoulders. “Here. This thing’s super warm. Just sit down, and—”

She began to rummage through the remnants of her traveling bag, pulling out some of the food. Nathan held the delicately stitched edges of the thick coat in awe. 

“Danny, where…where did you get this?” he gasped.

She stared down at the table for a moment, a creeping sort of dread starting deep in her stomach as she tried to determine what would come next. She hadn’t thought about how to explain her situation to Nathan—it hadn’t been the most important thing to her. 

Now, though, it would be unavoidable. 

“My friend, the one I’ve been with this past month,” she began, a little uncertainly. “The one who sent you money…right?” She paused. “...Christopher Penn?”

Nathan’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment, before his face broke in recognition. “Oh, that’s right. Yes. That’s where you’ve been. I…” His face scrunched up again as he tried to recall more details, and seemed to come up short. “I don’t…quite remember what the occasion was. I don’t remember him well. I’ve met him, haven’t I?” 

“Nathan, did you receive the money from him?” she asked, a little more forcefully, hoping to banish any lingering doubts she might have had about Christopher.

To her relief, Nathan nodded. “It was…more money than I’ve seen in my life, actually,” he almost whispered in awe. “I was able to use some of it to hire some help while you were gone. I didn’t realize you knew someone so…well-off. I felt badly about accepting such a huge sum, but I figured you’d yell at me if I didn’t, when you returned,” he admitted sheepishly. 

She laughed. “Damn right I would have. Trust me, he can afford it. And you deserve it, Nate.” 

She wondered if Christopher paid Nathan because he felt guilty about eating him—if the money had been more a way to ease his conscience than to help them as a simple act of benevolence. Either way, she wouldn’t complain—and she was more than grateful for it. 

She ushered Nathan into a chair, handing him some of the food Christopher had brought. Only when she’d placed a warm drink into his hands and taken a seat next to him did she begin her story again.

She had a thought that perhaps it was best that Nathan didn’t know everything. She wasn’t sure if telling him more about what had happened to her would make him remember his own nightmare. 

If she had no plans to return to the giant’s mansion, maybe it would have been a secret she kept close to her heart. But she didn’t think she could continue to lie to her best friend if she was to leave and visit Christopher in the future, again and again. 

“Nate…” she began, hesitantly. “I…I need to tell you the whole story.” She took a deep breath. “I know you don’t remember much about him, but you did meet Christopher once. I came to find you, and you’d come across a mansion in the woods. There was…there was a giant inside. Do you remember that?”

Nathan gave her a funny look, which made sense given how ridiculous her claim was. “A giant? What do you mean? I don’t remember any mansion in the woods.”

Danny bit her lip, wondering if this would be a good idea or not. 

“Sam,” she said, pulling the mirror out from her coat and holding it before her, “show me Christopher, please.”

“Yeah, sure thing, Danny.”

“Did that mirror just talk?” Nathan exclaimed, nearly spitting out his drink. 

Danny didn’t get a chance to answer—before them both, the mirror swirled and shimmered before revealing the face of Christopher. 

She felt something pull at her heart as she saw the lingering sadness in his face, his eyes barely focused as he looked downwards at something. It was faint, but she could almost hear the sounds of a piano being played.

He plays piano? I never knew that. 

As the face disappeared, she felt Nathan beside her begin to tremble, and she looked up to him with concern. His face was ghastly pale, and his eyes widened further and further as he pulled the cloak tighter around himself.

“I…I remember,” he whispered, with a voice so fragile it could have shattered like glass.

Danny felt instant regret, and set the mirror on the other side of her, out of Nathan’s view. It pained a deep part of herself to see her best friend so distraught, to see the hurt so clearly in his eyes, and to know the cause herself. She knew very well what Nathan had gone through now.

Nathan’s head snapped to Danny fearfully. “You…he ate you too, didn’t he?” His voice was barely a whisper, strained with hurt and disbelief. 

She sighed, and tried to put on a smile for him. She wore it thin as a threadbare shirt. “He…he did, but it’s okay. I’m okay.”

She continued before Nathan could interject further. “He explained everything to me—he has to do that every few weeks, or he turns into a…a monster. I know that’s how he was when…you first got there. He…” She swallowed nervously, the memories of last night still fresh in her brain, uncomfortably so. “He didn’t want to. And he’s sorry that he had to do it to you, too.”

Nathan got out of his seat and knelt down before her, holding her face between his large, warm hands. She’d have protested him doing this if it didn’t feel so comforting, to have his steady hands against her cheeks. She’d gone too long without it. 

“Danny,” he whispered, “I’m…I’m so sorry. I…if I had known, I—”

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Nate. He took your memories, so you wouldn’t have to remember it. He offered to take mine too, but I wouldn’t let him.” 

Absolute confusion overtook Nathan’s face. “...why not?”

She swallowed, trying to maintain her previous conviction as she met Nathan’s eyes. “...because I want to go back and see him again, eventually. I didn’t want to forget him.” She held up the mirror again, which had gone back to reflecting her own weary face instead of Christopher’s. “That’s why he gave me this—to make sure I could find my way back.” 

Nathan’s hands shakily fell from her face as he stared in disbelief. “You…want to go back?” 

Danny’s smile strained a little further upwards. “He’s been good to me, Nate. He’s really not a bad guy. He’s just…he’s lonely. He can’t leave his house. And he doesn’t really have any friends.” She shrugged nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t such a crazy idea for her to return. “He showed me his library, and he said he’d teach me how to read when I came back. He’s a good cook. He even…he even made me a dress. He needs me, Nate.” She all but pleaded as she looked back into Nathan’s eyes, which swam with uncertainty and fear. “He needs a friend.” 

Nathan was silent for a long while, staring back into Danny’s eyes as if he was searching for the truth. She knew there were two things warring in his mind—his trust in her, his best friend, and the memories of Christopher he’d regained. 

“Danny, all I remember of him…he was a monster. He had…claws, and his eyes were black, and he…he ate me. I know you…you said it was some sort of affliction he had, but how do you know he won’t be that way when you go and visit? What if he…” His voice squeaked, “eats you again?”

Danny’s lips pressed together. “I guess I…won’t know for sure. But he already said he can’t eat me again. He said it has to be a new person every time.” Her eyes lowered to the floor. “And, frankly, that’s probably when he needs someone the most.”

Nathan’s face began to crumble, disbelief giving way to a strained uncertainty. “He didn’t hurt you?” 

She shook her head. “No, he didn’t. I’m fine. He treated me well, Nate. He’s a good man.”

Nathan looked as though he wanted to refute her, but he slowly nodded, even though there was still fear in every line of his face. “I trust you, Danny. If you want to go back…it’s fine. I just…I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

She laughed softly, and reached down to hold Nathan’s hands in her own. “It’ll be okay. You know I could take a giant on, anyways.” 

A grin slowly crept onto his face, recognizing the teasing tone of her voice. “You just think you could, which is part of why I worry about you.” 

She laughed, and pushed Nathan back into his chair, putting a mug of warm liquid in his hands again. And for a moment, everything felt right again. She had her life back, Nathan would get better, and she had a friend to visit. Everything was all right. 

* * * * * * * * * *

The next morning, there was a knock at the door.

Danny rushed to open it before Nathan could get up—it had been hard enough to get him to stay still and rest, and to let her take over the chores for a while. She hadn’t worked in almost a month—she felt inclined simply because of her absence to make up for it.

She swung the door open and almost immediately regretted the action when she saw the man on the other side. 

Mr. Cyrus Livingston was well-known and respected in town—and had enough confidence in the fact to swagger right past Danny into her house.

Danny tried not to scowl. She hated Cyrus. Every unfortunate instance that led to her crossing paths with the man ended up making her blood boil in some way. He held the air of someone who treated their meager amount of importance as worth much more than it actually was. He was nothing more than a banker, but he held himself as though he was some sort of royalty. His smarmy grin made Danny want to vomit. 

This better not be another fucking courting call. Cyrus had taken it upon himself many times in the past year to stop by and suggest the possibility of Danny being his wife, a suggestion she found utterly revolting. She hadn’t been afraid to tell him as much after the first five or so times he’d asked, but even that didn’t seem to deter him. He was like a pesky, disgusting fly she couldn’t swat away. 

“Miss Robertson, a pleasure to see you as always,” he crooned, taking her hand in his and pressing a kiss to the back of her palm. Danny snatched it back, resisting the urge to ball it into a fist. “I trust you’ve been well?” 

She glared at Cyrus, sensing something rather unfriendly behind his paper-thin facade of courtesy. She felt as though she was staring down a snake. 

“Mr. Livingston,” Nathan muttered behind Danny, having already risen to his feet and come to stand by her side—likely because he knew she would snap at Cyrus soon without him there to hold her back. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“The fuck do you want, Cyrus?” Danny spat, crossing her arms across her chest defiantly. 

Cyrus narrowed his eyes, though his sneer didn’t leave his face. “That’s no way for a lady to talk.” 

She snorted derisively. “Bite me. Do you not understand what the word ‘no’ means? How about ‘never in a million years’? Or maybe ‘if you were the last man on earth, I’d sooner drown myself?’”

Nathan’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “Danny,” he hissed quietly.  

Cyrus laughed in a rather unkind manner, seemingly unaffected by her insults—though she could see the way his face twitched slightly in irritation. “Oh, Danny, I’m not here to try changing your mind,” he drawled. “There’s just something a little concerning I wanted to address with you both, since I heard you were finally back from your little vacation, Danny, darling.” 

If she hadn’t felt Nathan’s hand tighten even further on her shoulder, she likely would have called Cyrus something half as flattering and twice as long. She regretfully bit her tongue.

Cyrus reached into his coat pocket and produced a folded note. “According to this, Mr. Hayes, you received a rather large sum from the estate of one Christopher Penn earlier this month. That’s correct, isn’t it?”

Danny felt something heavy sink into her stomach. 

Nathan nodded. “...yes, that’s correct. Was there a problem with it?”

“As I understand it, our lovely friend Danny has been staying with Mr. Penn for the past month, hasn’t she?”

“I have,” Danny snapped matter-of-factly. “But frankly, Cyrus, I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

“Oh, I believe you’ll find it is my business, Danny,” Cyrus sneered. He waved his arm, and suddenly a group of five burly men came into the house through the open door Cyrus had swept through earlier. Danny didn’t recognize any of them, but they were all clearly allies of Cyrus, standing behind him like a group of leering playground bullies. “You see, you’re the first person I’ve asked who seems to remember seeing Penn recently.”

“And why is that important?” Danny growled, standing up a little straighter and trying not to seem intimidated by the posse Cyrus had brought with him, for whatever reason.

Cyrus smiled like a shark. “Because, darling, Christopher Penn is a man who’s been missing for almost ten years now.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Okay, I lied about the break. I've at least got another chapter after this, and if nothing goes crazy IRL, I should be able to maintain my normal posting schedule.

The question now is: why does Cyrus care about Christopher so much? Don't worry - that question will be answered in next week's chapter, Your Humble Servant.

Thank you, as always, for reading, and for your support!

[theseancekid]

everyone stop what you’re doing and look at this picture of my lizard

[dutybcrne]

Thinkings thinkings of Fatui!Kaeya have been reawakened in reviewing Arle's teasers/animations

[nailtagyuri]

when i was 12 this was the coolest most mindblowing shit ever i was genuinely so obsessed with it I'd read it very day like the bible. I would die for a version of this with the post 3D world content over my country

[freebooter4ever]

awww basketball again

[mejomonster]

I've said it before and I'll say it again even though there's people who can say it much better than me. You're allowed to present however the fuck you want, however masculine or feminine or androgynous you want, different every single day or intensely many things at once or always mostly one way literally look and dress However you want. It's your life. Same goes with hobbies, you can be a man who likes doing makeup, you can be a woman who loves working on cars, you can be a nonbinary person who's hobbies happen to align to the gender norms society expects of men like literally just DO what YOU want. How you present in the ways you dress, ways you act, it's whatever you want. The things you spend your life doing, that you're "allowed" to do or not? Are anything you want, whatever you want. Your gender identity for that matter also does not need to fit into any neat boxes. It can if you feel it's right for you, and perhaps even your presentation you feel best with also aligns into the neat box of the particular society you live in. But society changes, and individuals change. And you are valid and awesome exactly as you are, you're real and the way you want your life to actually be matters, and always is something you deserve regardless of where those rigid boxes end up trying to shove everyone. Most people are not going to fit the Top Ideal boxes their society expects of people, you're not broken for not always fitting it, and you have a right to exist the way you want to. For necessitity, survival, to blend in, and other reasons each person may choose to conform and try to blend in with our particular society's boxes. But when it comes to actual identity, you choose it and it is however you feel. There's no hoops you have to fit through or box to smash into to deserve to be who you already are. And you don't have to follow any rules or hide parts of yourself or lie, in order to simply get to be who you are. You already are, the rest of what you do is whatever you want to do and choose to do for your sake given the circumstances we are stuck living in.

[mingtinys]

why does my brain go 100mph at any given point during the day and brainstorm these full length, complex, fully fleshed out plots with little details and pieces of dislogue for a series i could write and then shut off the second i go to actually write story ...

i'll be sooooo excited for it too. looking up lore and technicalities for the plot points. and suddenly ,, nothing. no motivation to write it at all.

like cool !! i guess that jaehyun x reader featuring dojaejung greek mythology ! au is gonna sit in my notes app forever !!!

[sunarc]

Dilf Toji fucks you nice and slow when you’re done putting Megumi down for bed. He wants to thank you for being so good to him and his son. As a single dad it gets hard so when you came into the picture offering your services it was hard to deny such a genuine offer. You’re so good to Megumi, gentle, kind and patient. Toji can’t help the growing bulge in his pants when he sees you being such a strong mother figure. He has to show you his gratitude. The best way he can do that is by having you in a mating press so he can fuck you nice and deep. 

“You like that?” his voice is a soft hum. 

You feel dizzy. His cock feels so deep. He’s stretching you out more than ever before. You call out his name in a soft whimper.

“Yeah? I’m right here doll don't worry I’m not going anywhere” he groans.

Toji’s obsessed with the way you look taking his cock. Your hole looks so perfect clenching, barely able to fit all of him. You look so full, Toji can’t help but imagine how full you would look with his cum drooling out of you. He has to see it. He’s determined to fuck you full of his cum. His cock plunges in and out of you creating a pattern. Your moans fall past your lips making a tune Toji never wants to forget. 

“That’s it, good girl, say my name” you sound so pretty to him. “Tell me who fucks you this good, say it , tell me no one can make you shake like this, no one can fill this pussy up the way i can”

He’s never felt himself lose control like this before. There’s something about you, something that leaves him desperate for more. He craves you, desires you every waking second. The way your lips part letting pleads and moans drip off your tongue has him losing his mind. He can’t get enough of you. He knows he should be quiet but the way your cunt feels squeezing him so tight he thinks he just might lose his mind. “That feel good baby? Yeah I know” he coos “I’m gonna fuck you so full” his pace is picking up speed. 

His mind is practically blank thinking of how he wants to fill you to the brim with his cum. No that’s not enough he needs to give you every last drop he has. 

“You need my cum don’t you” he’s desperate to hear you say it. He’s practically begging to hear you asking for his cum. Tell him how much you want his babies. He can make you a mommy. Don’t you want him to make you a mommy?

“Our baby is gonna be so beautiful” he whispers. He isn’t sure if you can hear him but he doesn’t mind as long as you’re still losing your mind calling out his name. 

“That’s right” he growls “Say my name while I fuck a baby into you”

His hand push your thighs further down so he can reach deeper. The way he drags his cock past you slick walls has you shaking. Your words come out slurred. 

“It’s too big” you whine as he goes deeper

“No no you can take it.” he bites he lips continuing his long deep strokes. He knows you can take it. Your eyes roll back when he begins grinding his hips into you. He knows he’s hit the spot he’s been searching for. 

“There she is” he chuckles. 

You can barely contain the moans now. Your body is shaking uncontrollably. 

“Please” you gasp “S-slow down, I’m gonna make a mess” you cry.

Toji loves the sound of that. He thrust pick up speed, fucking into you even harder. 

“That’s it, just like that, make a mess on my cock.”

He’s desperately chasing after his own orgasm. He wants to cum with you. His thrust are sloppy. He’s moaning your name pleading for you to cum for him. 

“Cum-fuck Now” he demands. 

You can’t help the juices the splatter against his abs as he fucks his load into you. The two of you are a moaning mess. You ramble incoherent words paired with his name. His eyes are glued on the sticky mess between the two of you. The squelching sounds of his cock fucking his cum back in fill the room. 

“What a pretty sight this is. I hope it’s a girl” he moans “She’ll have your eyes” 

You can barely give him a reply to focused on the way his cock is still plunging in and out. 

“It’s too much” you slur.

“No baby it’s not enough” he groans “I gotta make sure this tummy is full of my cum. One more just one more okay”

Toji has plans on fucking way more than just one more load into you. He has to fuck you full until he’s sure of it you’ll be the one carrying Megumi’s little sister.

[xanaxspritz]

an: a continuation of these perv!nanami headcanons. im a journalist for my work and i had so many deadlines this past week. sorry for slight inactivity !!!

synopsis: nanami knew he was in trouble when you mentioned you were a virgin. he's been obsessed with bedding you ever since then

cw: perv!nanami, creampie, overstimulation, slight power imbalance, virgin afab! reader

nanami felt his own heart pounding when he opened the his apartment door for you. you looked so sweet, so delicate in the mini soft pink sundress you wore. your lips upturned into that shy flirty smile of yours that always drove him crazy. you looked good enough for him to eat whole.

he wondered if his intentions had been clear enough when he invited you over for the first time. unknowingly or not, you teased him relentless for weeks and weeks, from batting your doe eyes at him to slowly, day by day, showing up to his office at work in a much more revealing outfit than yesterday. you made him mad with lust.

and now he has you squirming on his couch, panties soaked and pulled aside with his thick fingers sliding in and out of you, thumb rubbing on top of your clit.

"that's it princess. you're doing so good," he says softy into your thigh, digging his fingers even deeper inside you. "need to stretch you out first."

"p-please i can't..." you mewl out. "it feels too g-good!"

"i know, i know. don't fight it, stay with me love." he reassures. determined to give you your first orgasm, he took out his digits and fully removed your pretty pink panties, diving into your wet heat, savoring and licking up all your deliciousness. the deep heat you felt down inside blossomed into a bright, mind numbing feeling that took over your whole being, as if you were floating on a cloud.

"good?" he asked.

you nodded, your head in a haze. never in your life have you felt this good, and you didn't want him to stop.

"im going to fuck you now. okay?"

"o-okay..." you watch him strip down to boxers, wondering how much trouble you would be in taking his girthy length.

"just relax," he whispers hovering on top of you, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

you felt his tat tip rubbing at your slick entrance, feeling every inch of him slide into you until he was fulling seated. it felt like he was slowly ripping you apart.

"kento, it hurts..." you whine.

"shh..ill go slow."

your pussy was intoxicating, so tight and snug around his cock, like a fitted glove. the fact that he was even fucking your little virgin pussy made him want to cum instantly, but he refrained, fucking deep long stokes into you.

"so fucking good," he moaned. "like you were made for me."

your eyes started to roll into the back of your head with pleasure as each stroke of his fat cock filled your pussy up. the living room filled with your soft whimpers and moans that made nanami's cock impossibly harder.

"i want to cum in your sweet little pussy. will you let me?"

too much of a daze, you nodded your head yes. loads and loads of his warm cum filled deep inside your womb. nanami pulled out, leaving the rest of the sticky substance to drip on to your inner thighs.

you didnt realize how tight you were gripping nanami's shoulders until he pulled off you, red finger marks rippled along his collarbones.

still fucked out, you rolled into his arms, where he holds you so dearly as if you were a piece of fine china he was scared to drop.

"good girl," he mumbled into your hair. "taking my cock so perfectly."

next time he would fuck you even harder, faster. he wanted to absolutely drunk on his cock, like it was only thing you knew. and since he was so blessed to be the one to take your virginity, he wouldn't let anyone else inside you.

[ohwowimlonley]

ohhhh free use with poly!marauders would be something like the boys making it hard for reader to do watch a movie because they keep using her holes and passing her around. imagine the boys sitting in one couch and the reader is seated in remus' dick, waiting for him to cum until she is passed to the other boys 😵‍💫

Changed this a tiny bit to fit a bit better but here :) (btw its roommates!marauders)

Cw for free use/advanced consent

-

You’re alone in your room, curled up in the corner of your bed, blanket covering your thighs as you finally start watching you’re favourite movie. It’s the middle of the day, so you’re the only one at home while the boys are out at work. See, you and your roommates had come to an agreement; they would go out to work and pay the rent and bills and buy groceries (and occasionally gifts for you), allowing you to spend your days as you please. In return, they ask for only one thing: your advanced consent.

Now, let’s not get silly here, you can always tell the boys no at any time, and they constantly remind you of that fact. All the agreement means is that they don’t have to ask you, and sometimes they pull you away from what you’re doing when they really need you. There are also a few rules in place. For example, you shouldn’t wear panties around the house (that is, excluding extenuating circumstances), and you shouldn’t touch yourself before asking for their help first.

Just as the plot starts to get good, your bedroom door creeks open. You jump, not expecting anyone to be home for at least and hour and a half, but relax when you see it’s only Remus. Once he determines you’re not in the middle of something vital, he pushes the rest of the way into your room. He doesn’t say a word to you just yet, just pulls his tshirt over his head and works on unzipping his jeans, pulling out his cock from his boxers and tugging on it.

“Rem! You’re home early,” you grin up at him, not bothering to ask him why, it doesn’t matter so long as he’s home. He makes a noncommital ‘hmph’ sound as he clambers up next to you, grasping at your him and turning you onto your stomach, letting your shirt rise up and expose your pussy to the room, still puffy from James using it this morning.

“Shush,” he grunts, but he doesn’t really mean it. He just wants to get inside you as quickly as he can, “boys’ll be home soon, wanna have you first,”

You go to respond, but Remus interrupts your train of thought by letting a fat glob of spit fall from his lips onto the folds of your pussy and follows it with scraping his fingers through the stickiness. He wastes no time at all before slipping his cock into you, not going slow like he usually does to let you get used to his size.

You whine loudly at the burn his cock leaves you with, and while he doesn’t slow down he does set a soothing hand on the small of your back and bends over yiu to press a kiss to the bcak of your neck as he starts up his fast pace. It doesn’t take long for you to get used to the stretch, and you let your mouth drop open in a long, continuous moan.

You lose yourself in the sensations, almost forgetting about the movie still playing in the background as your roommate manhandles you all over your bed, using his full strength to let out his frustration on you. Remus hears the soft click of the front door opening, but you don’t, so you let out a confused whine when he pulls out of you.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he soothes, seating himself at the head of your bed and pulling you over his thighs, slipping himself back into you, “boys’re home, gotta make sure they don’t take my girl, huh?”

You don’t respond. You can’t, what with Remus slipping his fingers against your poor, aching clit. The door to your room is already wide open, so James and Sirius can see the two of you as soon as they get to the upstairs landing. James clears his throat and you whip your head around to see your two other roommates standing side by side, watching you take Remus’ cock. You make eye contact with Sirius, and he rolls his eyes playfully.

“Told you he’d get home first,” he jabs his elbow into James’ rib before taking his hand and sitting on the end of your bed with the other boy in tow.

“Your fault really, Pads,” he points out, then smiles up at you, shrugging his shoulders, “the boys were arguing this morning about who got to have you first when we got home,”

“I was gonna share with Jamesie here, but Moony’s a stinkin cheater,” the boy in question doesn’t pay them any attention, just renews his grip on your hips and brings them down to meet his own thrusts.

“Rem!” You protest, turning back towards him and putting your palms on his chest to keep your balance. You can feel him throbbing inside you, a telltale sign that he’s close, and thank goodness for that because you’re getting there too, and on days where they pass you back and forth like this, it’s best if you cum as little as possible in the beginning.

“Who’s it gonna be next, love?” James is always more careful with you, his voice always questioning, never demanding. This by no means indicates that he isn’t just as desperate as you. In fact, on days where it’s all three boys, theres never a time where he isn’t practically forcing his cock into you.

There’s no opportunity for you to even try to answer his question, because Remus is anchoring you to him and spurting his cum deep inside you.

Sirius goes to tug you from Remus’ lap, but he locks his arms around your back and prevents you from moving even an inch further away from him. Sirius and James let out grumbles of displeasure.

“Rem, honey, share,” you remind him. When he eventually lets you go, James gets to you first, “can I face this way? I wanna watch my movie,”

All three boys chuckle amoungst themselves, and silently vow to make it as difficult as possible for you to watch your movie.