#but she does solve quite a bit of the cold cases

[xf-cases-solved]

S2E6: Ascension

Case: Part two of our three part (+ one fever dream) arc begins with a very Will Graham-esque "this is my design" bit with Mulder visiting Scully's apartment, which has now become a crime scene. (Ik X-Files predates Hannibal, it's just what it reminded me of, leave me alone. Plus, Red Dragon predates X-Files by over a decade, soooo) 

Anyway, Scully has been kidnapped by Duane Barry, oopsie daisy! He needs someone to take his place for the next abduction, and he has selected Scully for the job. Good thing Mulder and Krycek are on the case and manage to get her home safe and sound before the end credits roll!

Or... maybe actually they do the opposite of that.

Mulder gets progressively scruffier throughout the episode and nearly kills himself and Krycek on the road bc he hasn't been sleeping since Scully got kidnapped; Scully loses her necklace for the first, but CERTAINLY not last time; Mulder and Krycek take a couple's vacation to a ski resort and Mulder holds a tram operator at gunpoint for suggesting that the tram is "not safe"; Krycek messes up his carefully slicked back hair while pistol whipping the tram operator and then fails to murder Mulder in what may or may not end up being just one of many assassination failures in his pathetic assassin career; Scully is taken by "THEM!" (whoever they are); Duane Barry is dead and the military performs the autopsy bc "there wasn't an FBI pathologist available this morning" (☹️); and Assistant Director Skinner apparently has had the power to reopen the X-Files this whole time??

Does someone die in the cold open: No, but Mulder does do the worst consoling job ever by approaching Scully's mom with Scully's blood on his outstretched hand and then staring blankly at her when she asks where her daughter is.

Does Mulder present a slideshow: This man should not be operating any sort of heavy machinery be it a car, a tram, or an early 1990s projector. (Of the three, though, the only one he doesn't operate during this episode is the projector.)

Does the evidence survive the investigation: Loooool. Nah. Scully's gone, Duane Barry is dead, Krycek has disappeared, and Mulder is left with nothing but some overgrown stubble, scruffy hair, and a worsening of his already substantial insomnia problem.

Whodunit: THEM!!! (Aliens? The shadow government? Both? Neither? Who's to say?)

Convictions: Oh hon. You had to have known Duane Barry was never getting out of this alive, right?

Did they solve it: I am going to go with "no, but." No, but Mulder (and Skinner) are at least aware that they have been massively screwed over, and so Skinner reopens the X-Files in retaliation, and I'll consider that a leveling up. You may have lost all your evidence, almost got framed for murder (tho tbf you did strangle the shit out of him), and got your only real friend in the world abducted by aliens/the shadow government/THEM, but at least you got your special files back, Mulder! I'm sure the first X-Files case you take on after their reopening will be very important, and not one that is just a fourteen year old emo kid's wet/fever dream fantasy...

But, ah, you know what? I'm getting ahead of myself. Ad break! 

[how do i determine if a case is solved? check the scale here: x]

THIS EPISODE IS SPONSORED BY: Quitting your job and disconnecting your home phone number. Are you currently leading a double life, pretending to be someone you're not in order to gain the trust of someone you intend to royally fuck over for your bosses in the shadow government? Have you completed your mission and are ready to move onto bigger and better* things? Well, then that means it's time for you to try quitting your job and disconnecting your home phone number! Don't worry, it's the 90s, you don't have a cell phone with a tracker on it, nobody will be able to find you. Go live your life, free as a bird. I mean, at least for now... *We do not guarantee that the things you move onto will be bigger, and we CERTAINLY don't guarantee that the things you move onto will be better. In fact, they might be worse. There's actually a high likelihood that they will indeed be worse. But don't worry about that right now. Everything is going to be probably possibly maybe just fine.

***

General Total Stats:

(green means stat has changed since last ep; red means new stat added to list)

Total Cases *Definitively* Solved So Far: 15 (streak not broken bc i didn't bother to restart it in the first place 👉🏽😎👉🏽)

Total Number of "Mulder/Scully, It's Me": 9 (teeeechnically she does say "mulder, it's me" in this episode, but it's the same one from the end of the previous episode, so counting it felt like cheating)

Total Number of Times Scully Has Conveniently Not Seen Something Crucial: 6

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Been in Mortal Danger: 10 ½ (if only krycek were competent 😔) 

Total Number of Times Scully Has Been in Mortal Danger: 10 (i think as long as we don't know her whereabouts it's valid to consider her as being in mortal danger)

Total Number of Sexually Charged, Uncomfortably Intimate, and/or Flirty Moments Between Friendly Coworkers: 15 (mulder climbing a hill and staring longingly at the sky is so insanely melodramatic that i'm counting it)

Total Number of Autopsies Scully Has Performed On Screen: 5 (ngl the line "there wasn't an fbi pathologist available this morning" hits the feels a bit)

Total Number of Times Scully Plays Doctor: 2

Total Number of Times Mulder Talks to an Informant: 19!! (and he was extremely unhelpful 😃)

Total Number of Times People Making Out in a Car Are Hurt or Killed: 2

Total Number of Times Someone Correctly Guesses a Password: 3 

Total Number of (Plot Relevant) Nosebleeds: 5

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Tasted/Sniffed/Touched Something Questionable Without Following Proper Safety Procedures: 3 (no, but he did completely ignore all warnings in regards to using the unstable tram thing, which is similar in spirit, if not in practice)

Total Number of Times Someone Says "Trust No One": 3 

Total Number of Times Someone Says "I Want to Believe": 4 

Total Number of Times Someone Says "The Truth is Out There": 2 

Total Number of Cigarettes Cigarette Smoking Man Has Smoked: 13 (but he NEVER. FUCKING. FINISHES THEM. look at that fucking ashtray at the end of the episode. he takes like one drag and then puts them out. why? why not smoke the whole thing?? drives me insane)

Total Number of Maggie Scully Sightings: 2! (she's not having a good time!)

Total Number of Lone Gunmen Sightings: 2

Total Number of Alex Krycek Sightings: 3!!!!!! (get outta town, rat boy! no, seriously, get outta town. we'll call you when we need you to fuck something up later)

Total Number of Times I Had to Look Up What State the Episode Takes Place in Even Though I Literally Just Watched It: 11½ (ascend to the stars, mother fucker)

Total Number of Times I Had to Look at an Episode's Wikipedia Page to Fill This Out Because It Was Fucking Confusing and/or Too Boring for Me to Pay Attention: 5

[bwabbitv3s]

Good Godfather Vlad AU - Part 2

Part 1 Those that asked to be tagged. @kaitouhime @krzys2000 @moobloomrights

~This took a few drafts to get it where I wanted. Vlad is really hard to write as getting the help he needs while still being really new to all the sudden changes. ~

Ice Machines and Fudge

The one that manages to corner him first is their daughter Jasmine. She catches him in the ice machine and vending machine room at the hotel at 3am. He is rather impressed with it as he can’t escape by using his powers as there is a CCTV camera to stop people stealing from the vending machine. 

“You need to talk to Mom and Dad tomorrow, or Dad is going to try to break into your room.” Jasmine says straight away. 

“I beg your pardon?” Vlad responds.

It is 3am, he has not slept well the last two nights. Had a very long video session with his therapist that left him emotionally drained. He just wanted some ice for a cold compress for his headache. The last thing Vlad was expecting was for a teenager to materialize out of the dim shadows between the vending machines. If he had not known better he would have suspected she was a ghost. 

“They are both spiraling from the revelation that they left you feeling abandoned for the last decade. They thought they were doing the right thing in respecting your boundaries and not pushing into your life until you reached out. Your lack of response back even years later never deterred them. They took it as a good sign that you never asked them to stop sending letters. ” Jasmine pauses for a moment.

“Dad sends you an invitation to Thanksgiving and Christmas every year, we all sign it.” Jasmine trails off a bit. 

The ice bucket nearly falls from his hands at that new sucker punch to the gut. Vlad’s family had always been small and after his parents passed he never had anyone to get together for the holidays with. Until Jack found out and dragged him to every single family holiday since. He would always play devil's advocate in the yearly debate over if Santa was real between Maddie and Jack. It was always good fun and they used the most bizarre physics equations to explain their case. At least until the accident, how many Christmases had he missed. 

The ice machine thumps as more ice fills the basin. The static humm buzz of the fluorescent lights fill the air. Jasmine does not press him to respond, just waits for him to collect his thoughts. 

“I don’t know if I am ready to face them.” Vlad says softly.

“Sometimes we are not ready for things. We just have to do them anyway as if we wait to be ready it will never happen.” Jasmine says. 

“You are quite insightful for your age.” Vlad responds. 

“Thank you.” Jasmine.

“Now how do I keep them from trying to smother me while I try to piece things back together.” he continues ending with a wry smile. 

“Well first off, fudge always works with Dad.” Jasmine smiles back. 

“He always did have a massive sweet tooth. I swear he used to live off nothing but fudge and coffee during exams.” Vlad fondly reminisces. 

“Mom is harder and I don’t think you want to be shouting out ghost, while pointing in random directions to distract her.” she embarrassingly tells him. 

“I don’t think that would help very much with this. She is more than likely to drag me after a ghost sighting.” Vlad chuckles. He pauses for a moment before a memory alights. 

“Does she still fiddle with rubix cubes?” Vlad asks. 

“Rubix cubes?” Jasmine asks, confused. 

“Your mother in college used to keep a rubix cube to occupy her hands with. Creating patterns and solving a rubix cube was seen as smart and impressive so it did not get taken away from her. She said it helped her focus on things and ground her emotions.” Vlad tells her. 

“I never knew that. That could work if you need to escape her manhandling.” Jasmine confirms. 

“Well if I am going to face them tomorrow at the brunch I should get some sleep. I will see you and your family tomorrow morning. Have a good night.” Vlad tiredly thanks her. He has to stifle a yawn at the end.

There is a teenage boy staring at his hotel room door, a very familiar looking boy. He feels a flush of warmth inside as he realizes just who has tracked him down. The boy stiffens and turns to look down the hall at Vlad. What an odd pair they must make in this dim hotel hallway. Vlad in his dark silk pajamas and matching housecoat holding a slightly melted bucket of ice. The boy, Daniel, in an oversized NASA hoodie space print flannel pajama pants with a small box?   

“Your sister beat you to it. I fear you are too late to warn me about how your parents are ready to ambush me into restarting our friendship. I have consoled myself to facing them tomorrow at brunch and the emotional encounter it will be.” Vlad dramatically sighs out. 

From the way Daniel untenses that was the right move. His hands fiddle with the small box. 

“Did she catch you in the stairwell or the elevator? I know she has been working on her elevator pitch all day.” Daniel jokingly asks.

“Her elevator pitch was put to good use in the ice machine room. Trapped me between the exit and the vending machines.” Vlad tells him. 

“I did not think she had it in her to actually stalk you. I thought she was going to just stay in the elevator and wait for you to use it.” Daniel laughs out. 

Not that it would have worked as Vlad had been turning invisible and phasing up the elevator shaft to precisely avoid encounters. 

“Never underestimate a determined young woman. Now how may I help you, Daniel?” Vlad asks. 

“Well Jazz did the hard work already getting you to face our parents. Here take this.” Daniel says stepping forwards and offering out the small box. 

Vlad takes the small box which appears to be a chocolate box of some kind. It is fairly heavy for its size. 

“Dad has not had this brand of fudge before. It should give you a solid ten minutes of him running it through his ranking system before he remembers what he had wanted to do. It won’t stop the hug but should allow you the time to remind him to let you keep your feet on the ground for it.” Daniel quickly says. 

“That is very thoughtful of you Daniel.” Vlad thankfully says

“Just Danny, Daniel makes it sound like you are going to give me detention.” Danny embarrassingly jokes. 

“Danny then. Thank you for this. I know it must be hard to find a chocolate maker that Jack has not tried the fudge for.” Vlad says. 

“Glad to help. Well I am still getting over the time zone change and need all the sleep I can. Night Vlad, good luck with Mom. I have yet to find anything to really stop her so you are on your own.” Danny says cheerfully before he sprints down the hall to the elevator. 

Vlad looks after as Danny turns a corner then disappears from sight. He sighs before unlocking his hotel room. It seems that at least the children have decided to help him take things at his own pace. He sets the box gently onto the bedside table. Put the ice that has not melted into the cold compress bag for his headache. Sets up his laptop and begins the searches for the closest store that has rubix cubes. 

If one happens to go missing from inventory the next morning. Along with several bills totaling more than the cube are found in the empty cash drawer when they go to open the register for the morning, well that is just a wonderful coincidence. 

Now with a Part 3, and Part 4

[limjaeseven]

Blood Red Love

Pairing: Jinyoung x Yugyeom

Genre: Horror, Angst, Hannibal!AU

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Cannibalism, lots of death and gore, graphic description of murder and dead bodies

Word Count: 5,919

Summary: Yugyeom should have remembered that if something seems too good to be true, it probably was, and that something, or better, someone came in the shape of a tall, handsome, psychiatrist with an impeccable taste in fashion and a penchant for the unspeakable.

[a/n]: Written about half a century late for @flurrys-creativity's supernatural collab. This was really fun to write, I appreciate the incredible sense you have of coming up with collabs themed around the exact shows I'm obsessing over at any point of time.

Yugyeom should have known better. He worked as a cop for years, he was working for the NIS for god’s sake. If there was someone who should have seen this coming, it should have been him. He had managed to miss every red flag till it came kicking his door down.

Six months prior

The day was cold enough that Yugyeom had to pull out his thickest jacket. Dusting it off took a while, he had an impressive tolerance for the cold so it got little use. Donning it, he bid his dog a quick goodbye in the form of a pat on its head before heading off in his beat up Volvo.

His new job at the National Intelligence Service was proving to be nothing short of trouble. He hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in weeks, images of his investigation victims haunting him. His “perfect empathy” had always been there, but it became an asset when he got into law enforcement and made a bit of a name for himself.

That’s when he met Lim Jaebeom, director of the Behavioural Science Unit and the reason behind Yugyeom’s torment. He had heard of Yugyeom’s skill of being able to perfectly recreate the happenings at a crime scene and recruited him to consult for a few minor cases.

Yugyeom had wondered why he had been called for it, because the cases were easy to solve, there was no way Jaebeom hadn't figured them out on his own. Well, if there's one thing Yugyeom has learned about himself, it's that he's bad at seeing things coming his way.

They didn't cross paths again for years. Yugyeom had quit the police and joined the NIS training academy as a professor. Jaebeom had dropped by one of his lectures where he offered, more like forced upon, Yugyeom a job as a profiler for a high profile case he was working on.

And that was what led him to his predicament where he's spending one of the coldest days of the year at the NIS building instead of being at home with his dog. Jaebeom wanted him to stick around after they solved the first case and it wasn't like Yugyeom had a choice. What Jaebeom wanted, he got.

“So, what does it look like?” The Director asked, having handed Yugyeom a dossier full of photos of their latest case.

“An act of justice.” Yugyeom closed his eyes and tried to concentrate but it wasn't working. “I'll need to see the scene for more, the photos don’t give me a sense of the space.”

“Well we’re basically snowed in at this point so try harder. We don't know if or when he’s going to strike again so we need to figure this out quick,” Jaebeom snapped. Yugyeom could feel a headache radiating its way up the back of his skull. Realising that his presence was probably not helping, Jaebeom left him alone to brood in his office, promising to return soon.

Sighing, Yugyeom went back to examining the photos to better understand the geography of the house so that he could piece the series of events together. Closing his eyes, he tried to picture himself in the room, turning back time on the elements around him till he was envisioning the moments before the act took place.

He found himself across from Mrs Yoo, sitting on a plush sofa in her living room. Looking down, he saw a revolver in his right hand, a glass of wine in the other. The way Mrs Yoo’s eyes shone looking at him, it had to be motherly, a mix of care, kindness and fear. She was afraid of what he had become, knowing full well that it was her fault.

Yugyeom spun the wine in his hands gently before breathing its aroma in and taking a small sip, setting the glass carefully on the side table after.

“I despise the gentleness in Mrs Yoo’s eyes. They remind me of too much pain. I left because of those eyes, because of the pity that drips from them. I need those eyes to stop staring at me, I need everyone to stop looking at me.” Yugyeom examines the gun in his hand and raises it to be level with Mrs Yoo’s head.

“I stare straight into Mrs Yoo’s eyes as she trembles in fear in front of me. She’s begging for a forgiveness she knows I can’t afford. It takes a single shot to pierce right through her left eye and end both of our misery.”

Yugyeom sighs as he opens his eyes, rubbing his face with his hands as he tries to calm his breathing. He calls Jaebeom and the staff back into the room before asking, “Does Mrs Yoo have any kids on the record, someone old enough to own a firearm?”

Youngjae, a member of the forensic team, looked through the file in his hand before replying, “Yeah, a son. He’s 25, works at a tech firm on the other side of the country. We looked into him, he doesn’t seem to have been in the area on the day of the incident.”

“Look into him again just in case,” Jaebeom said before turning to Yugyeom, “Any other possible leads?”

“Maybe an illegitimate child? It’s someone who looked up to her as a mother figure but felt betrayed. Someone into their adulthood with years to have ruminated on their feelings on Mrs Yoo and turned it into a carefully plotted murder.”

“Look into the shooting ranges nearby, see if you can link any of their regulars near the area.” Jaebeom added, pointing at the image of Mrs Yoo’s body and how cleanly the bullet had hit her eye. “Too good of a shot for an amateur.”

Yugyeom stood there, eyes wide open, feeling rattled. Doing this was hard enough when he was at the crime scene but having to construct everything just out of photos drained him of everything. He slumped into the nearest chair and let his head roll back as he tried to calm himself down. Jaebeom gave him a pat on the shoulder before leaving him alone in the lab.

It had taken him a long time to learn the best way to come down from his “sessions” without having a panic attack or scaring those around him. Some space and a series of breathing exercises were what he finally settled on, concentrating on a spot on the ceiling to keep himself focused. He was just about done when a knock on the lab door pulled him out of his head.

“Mr Kim?” The man asked. He was dressed to the nines in a three piece suit, hair perfectly styled, eyes sharp as he watched Yugyeom.

Nodding, Yugyeom stood up. “And you would be?”

“Park Jinyoung. Jaebeom’s an old friend, he wanted my help with the case.”

“You don’t look like law enforcement.”

“Oh no, these hands weren’t meant for firearms.” Jinyoung said, holding them up. “People used to say they’d be good for paintbrushes but I drifted towards scalpels first, then towards people’s minds.”

“Psychiatrist for such a low priority case?”

Jinyoung pressed a hand thoughtfully to his chin, “Would you be here if it was low priority?”

“This is not the only case of its kind, is it?” Yugyeom asked, running his hands through his hair exasperatedly.

“Fifth one in a row. Each in a different state along the east coast, all women in their late forties or early fifties. No seeming connections between them.” Jinyoung walked across the room to a table piled high with files before pulling a thin one out. “This is everything that could be found in common. We don’t even know if it’s one killer or multiple different ones.”

“And why didn’t Jaebeom tell me any of this?” Yugyeom felt anger simmer inside him. Jaebeom had done this too many times for him to be surprised but it didn’t affect him any less.

“Too many theories floating around the office. He wanted a fresh perspective.” The table was now littered with tens of photos, each one different in setting but the same in execution. “What you saw was the first one that happened three months ago. That’s why he wanted you here, because there’s no crime scene to see.”

“When was the last one?”

“Last week. Each murder has had between two and three weeks between them. Jaebeom was hoping to catch the next one before it happened but he wasn’t getting anywhere.”

“What’s your theory, Doctor?”

Jinyoung rifled through the pictures to find one of each victim, photographed from a similar angle, that of the chair opposite to where the women sat. “Odds say it was all the same killer, but it feels too intimate for that. How many years does a young boy spend at home? How many of those would he have to build a bond that burned him when it got cut?”

“They all knew each other. They planned this together. They all had to be good enough shots to hit exactly the eye from a decent distance and also have the resources to clean up after themselves.”

“Maybe the reason why Jaebeom couldn’t understand it was because he kept looking outside for answers.”

Watching cops getting arrested would never stop being unnerving to Yugyeom. After confirming the details with Jinyoung they both went to Jaebeom with their findings. It wasn’t an easy search but since they knew the killers would be inside the law enforcement system, they had enough connections.

“All foster children, brought into seemingly perfect households.” Yugyeom said as he read over the final report. He sat in Jinyoung’s office across from the man himself, a glass of scotch in his hand. “Abused for being troubled, sent to police academies to learn discipline.”

“It’s not incredibly difficult to find those of a similar disposition once inside. The cruelty of the academy breeds resentment and the resources to get away with one’s darkest desires.”

“Why left eyes though?”

Jinyoung stood up from his seat and walked over to one of the bookshelves that lined his walls. He pulled one out and handed it to Yugyeom. “Any luck reading Chinese?”

Yugyeom chuckled and flipped through the book. “My mom had one of these, she tried to get me to read it but I was never any good.”

“It’s a common text around these parts, stories, traditions and superstitions. It has a part on the twitching of eyes. Left eyes signify life in women.”

“A bit on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Maybe, but revenge blinds. It can never be measured, for it always has alterior motives.” Jinyoung took a long whiff of his wine before sipping it. “The best poet loves poetry for it’s own sake.”

“Well, glad this lot weren’t poets.” Yugyeom said.

Jinyoung laughed and raised his glass. “To amateurs, then.” Yugyeom grinned and raised his own glass. “Could I tempt you to dinner with me this weekend? Something celebratory for our accomplishment.”

“Will you tell me which wine I should bring so that I don’t pick the wrong one?”

“Find a good Chianti. Saturday, eight o’clock. I’ll have my assistant deliver you a formal invite.”

Yugyeom felt woefully underdressed when Jinyoung opened the door, dressed in another perfectly tailored three piece suit with a tastefully patterned tie. He wished he had taken his blazer to wear over his full sleeve shirt rolled up to the elbows and slacks.

“I hope this will do,” He said, extending the bottle of wine.

Jinyoung barely glanced at the label before clicking his tongue. Yugyeom felt a shiver down his spine, a sudden fear of disappointing the doctor gripping him. Jinyoung’s eyebrows furrowed for a second before they softened into a teasing smile.

“This will do perfectly. Please, come in.” Jinyoung stepped away and Yugyeom was met with an extravagant living room, decorated with utmost care. The doctor seemed like a man of exquisite taste and wealth, unafraid of indulging in the luxuries of life.

Jinyoung led him to the dining room, where a long glass topped table took up much of the space. It was decorated with an elaborate flower and fruit arrangement in the centre, with two places set up, one at the head of the table, and one to its right.

“Please take a seat,” Jinyoung said before disappearing into the kitchen. He returned with a decanter of wine in one hand and two plates artfully balanced on the other, one on his palm and the other on his wrist. With a flourish, he filled both of their glasses before setting a plate in front of Yugyeom and one in his own place before sitting down. “Stuffed Roast Heart with Devilled Kidneys and Garlic Liver Paté.”

Yugyeom stared at the food in wonder, not having seen such a beautifully plated dish before. “What is it that you can’t do, Doctor?”

“You flatter me too much, I’m merely a man of a few interests.”

“This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten, Doctor. I don’t think this comes just from being a hobbyist.”

Jinyoung smiled and sipped his wine before answering, “I started cooking for my sister young, then it became a passion, if you will.”

“Well I do hope we work together more often in the future if it means you’ll call me over for dinner every time.”

“It would be an absolute pleasure,” Jinyoung said before holding his glass up for a toast. “To Lim Jaebom, an eternal friend and pain.”

“To Jaebeom indeed.”

The joy of the night together was quickly sobered in the morning when Yugyeom woke up to Jaebeom calling him early in the morning.

“Dr Park will be picking you up soon, we need you two here stat.”

He barely had the time to get himself out of bed and dressed before Jinyoung showed up, looking as classy as ever, dressed slightly down in a shirt with no tie and a sport coat. “Did you eat anything?” Jinyoung asked as they got into the car.

“Nope, Jaebeom called me ten minutes ago,” said Yugyeom. “Also why’re you here? I could have gone myself.”

“I offered since your house was on the way.” Jinyoung paused for a second, glancing at Yugyeom before continuing, “And Jaebeom thought it’d be best if I was with you at the scene.”

Lim Jaebeom was hard headed, short tempered, rude, but he was also almost always right. Yugyeom was glad he had Jinyoung with him when he arrived at the scene. There was a small group of officers standing outside the local art museum looking rather green and it made sense as they stepped in.

The hall was large, lined with paintings along the walls. The centre of it featured only two pieces, well three now. Between the two displays, like a sculpture, stood a body. It was stripped naked, posed like a ballet dancer, one leg slightly raised, arms up in the air, held up by red ropes that hung from the ceiling. The body was so carefully positioned that it only rested on the ground by the toes of one foot.

Most notably, though, what captured the eye first was the fact that the corpse’s chest was cut open, split down the middle and flayed open, the ribs slightly pried apart to show a hole in the middle, filled with a small bouquet of flowers where the heart should have been.

“Okay after last night’s dinner this is probably not the best thing to happen,” Yugyeom mumbled, feeling light headed. “Sure you’re not serving up human hearts are you, Doctor?”

“Only the finest beef, Mr Kim. I can put you through to my butcher if you’d wish to confirm.” They both laughed a little to ease the tension but the glares from those around quieted them quickly.

Jaebeom stormed in immediately after, his voice loud and frustrated. “Get to work, the two of you. I need this sorted out and fast.”

“Any other similar cases anytime recently that you’d like to tell me about?” Yugyeom asked, trying his best to not sound accusatory.

“With parts of the body missing? Yes. With this level of… what do I even call it? Craftsmanship? Not so much.”

Jinyoung interjected before things had the chance to go awry. “Noted, Jaebeom. Lets just work with the assumption that this is a one off thing first, then we’ll try connecting the dots.”

Jaebeom nodded before leaving the two to examine the body. Youngjae stayed with them to brief them about the latest developments. “Jeong Jisub, 42. Luxury car salesman. Unmarried and orphaned. Wasn’t very well known even to his own neighbours and not well liked by those who did recognise him.”

“Unlikable doesn’t mean having enemies,” Yugyeom mumbled. “This doesn’t feel personal.”

“What, flowers are impersonal now?”

“What Mr Kim is trying to say, Mr Choi,” Jinyoung answered, addressing Youngjae, “Is that while the gesture of the flowers and the body may be symbolic and personal, the murder itself. or at least the choice of victim doesn’t feel so.”

Yugyeom nodded, adding, “There was a lot of care put into the act of rigging up the body, but it was the same to the killer as making a sculpture. The marble itself is immaterial to obtaining the final outcome.” He walked around the body, examining every minor detail. “Check the back, the kidneys should also be missing. This isn’t just art, it’s a message.” He turned to Jinyoung, “Doctor, you’re sure this wasn’t you, right?”

Jinyoung put up his hands, wrists pressed together. “You’ve caught me officer, take me away.” His tone was light and teasing, matching Yugyeom’s.

“Why kidneys?” Youngjae asked as he looked at the back of the body and noticed the small sutures present there that corresponded with where the organs would be present. The killer had carefully cut open the back to extract them and stitched it back up almost imperceptibly.

“Two organs of humanity, two organs of love,” Jinyoung said after a minute of pondering. “The Egyptians left the heart and kidneys inside when mummifying their corpses and many traditions considered the kidneys the locus of affection.”

“The flowers, what do they signify?” Yugyeom asked Youngjae.

The forensic analyst looked down at his file before answering, “All imply something along the lines of romantic interest, infatuation, crushes.”

“Our killer seems to have fallen in love.”

“Why ballet? Why the flowers of infatuation but organs of love?” Yugyeom wondered out loud as he once again sat at Jinyoung’s side at his dining table. Jinyoung had offered to cook lunch since they’d wrapped up early and Jaebeom wouldn’t be available to talk to till the next day.

“Some things, emotions, people are both delicate and sturdy at once. They’re fragile, easily disturbed, hurt, broken, but if nurtured correctly, they blossom powerfully, often dangerously.” Yugyeom felt Jinyoung staring into his soul as he spoke those words.

“Wait a minute—” He started, getting up from his seat abruptly. “You’re not here for Jaebeom or the cases are you?”

“Mr Kim, please, we can talk this out cordially—”

���No, you’re not getting into my head anymore. We’re done.”

“Yugyeom, Jaebeom asked me to do it out of concern for your well being. He told me about the dark places you retreat to after the cases. How the darkness from the killers’ minds seeps into your own and haunts you. How you lose yourself in the process.” Jinyoung’s eyes looked pleading as he spoke, “I want to help you.”

Yugyeom chuckled bitterly, “Help me or Jaebeom?”

“You, Yugyeom. All Jaebeom needs is a report saying that you’re fit enough for duty. I have that prepared here,” Jinyoung left the dining room for a moment before returning with a file. “You have the choice now. Tell me to stop and I’ll tell Jaebeom that my work is done.”

“Tuesdays.” Yugyeom mumbled into his drink.

“Pardon me?”

Grabbing his jacket, Yugeom moved to leave the room but turned just as he was about to step out, “Sessions on Tuesdays, I get off work early.”

It was difficult for Yugyeom to look Jinyoung or Jaebeom in the eye without getting angry knowing what they were doing to him, but the case forced them into the same room, the body on a table in front of them, pictures of the crime scene scattered on the one on the side.

“Yugyeom, what did you see yesterday?” Jaebeom asked.

Closing his eyes, Yugyeom envisioned himself back in the art gallery, the body that was once hung in front of him now lying on the floor next to him, not yet rigged up.

“I never saw Mr Jeong as a person. His life was worth less than an insect crushed under my foot. His death was quick and painless. I would have dragged it longer if I’d so desired, but I had other priorities. This display was everything. I needed it to be perfect.

“I spent hours making sure the pose was correct, rigging ropes carefully to hold the body in place. I placed the flowers in last, the finishing touch to a labour of love. A proposal, a request for courtship, proof of the power and devotion I held in my hands.”

Moments of silence ticked by as Yugyeom collected his thoughts. “It’s a letter, Jaebeom. The killer wanted someone in particular to see this, someone who’d understand what it meant. He wanted them to know what he was capable of.”

“Who in the world would appreciate a dead body with missing organs as a letter? Another killer? Don’t tell me we have two killers to deal with.”

“You said there were other cases with organs missing, right?” Jinyoung asked. Jaebeom nodded and handed him a case file.

“Twelve deaths over two years. All of them displayed one way or the other, clearly meant to be found. They were all far more detached than this one, though, more a show of ruthlessness than art.” Jaebeom thought for a moment before adding, “Don’t tell me our new killer is in love with our old one, that might just make me quit. I’ve worked tirelessly to catch the ‘Butcher’ as we call him, I don’t have time for another one.”

“I don’t think these are two killers, Jaebeom,” Jinyoung said, and Yugyeom nodded in assent. “I think the Butcher met someone who softened him.”

“All of these cases show someone with expertise with bodies, a doctor, nurse or mortician of some kind. One with a build large enough to carry them around and access to medical supplies and some sort of space to do the dissection,” Yugyeom noted, rifling through the photos.

“What does he do with the organs? And it's not just organs, some of them have flesh missing. Sometimes just sections, other times an entire limb,” asked Jaebeom.

Everyone turned to Jinyoung as the resident doctor, “Surgical trophies, maybe? He could be keeping them as a personal collection, a piece of every person he’s killed.” Turning to Youngjae who was working on the body he asked, “Anything in common between all the victims?”

“Nothing we could figure out. The gender division is pretty even, ages stick between eighteen and fifty. Some had families, others no one. They feel extremely random, half the victims originally from different parts of the country but all of them turned up in the general area of this city and two over.”

“I need time to think, Jaebeom. Start your search with medical professionals in the area, I’ll give you more details as soon as I can.”

Despite Yugyeom’s wishes, he ended up in Jinyoung’s office that evening. The scotch in his hand was the only thing keeping him sane, especially as he sat facing the doctor.

“I want this to be a place where you can be honest, Yugyeom. I am contractually obliged to not utter a word outside these walls. You can tell me whatever’s on your mind. I’m not here to judge, but listen.”

“You’ve lied to me before, why should I trust you?”

“Lies of omission are not the same, are they? But I’m not here to defend that. I’m sorry, I wasn’t able to figure out a better way for you to open up to me, but it was still wrong of me to. Would you be open to starting fresh?”

Yugyeom thought for a second before nodding. He pushed himself off his chair and started strolling around the office. The space was large, with a tall ceiling and a staircase leading up to a mezzanine lined with bookshelves end to end. Ladders rested against the bookcases on both floors, allowing access to the books stored up high.

Stopping by the nearest ladder, Yugyeom turned his back to it, resting a leg on the lowest step and leaning back against it. “This killer,” he started, “he makes me feel so many emotions.”

Jinyoung sat silently, his eyes expectant, waiting for Yugyeom to open up to him.

“I’m equal parts horrified and fascinated by him.” Yugyeom sighed and took a large swig of his drink. “I don’t know why I’m saying this but for a moment it felt like that letter was for me.”

Crossing one leg on top of the other, Jinyoung raised an eyebrow, “And why did it feel like that?”

“Jaebeom said that the person the Butcher is in love with, has to be a killer or someone who understands his work. Looking at the body, I could feel the emotions the Butcher put into it, I could understand the effort he went into to put it up there. It just felt like it was made for me, then. Like he knew I’d see it, that I’d understand him because that’s my job. To put myself into the heads of those who kill and find them inside there. Not see them as cold blooded killers but as people with motivations, desires, wants, needs. Maybe he hoped I’d see beyond the body, the murder, and see him in his art.”

Jinyoung stood up and joined Yugyeom near the ladder, standing close enough that Yugyeom got a strong whiff of the doctor’s perfume, a classy, masculine scent, much like the man himself. “What did you see of him?”

The image of the killer in Yugyeom’s head was blurry at best, but seeing the body, it felt like Yugyeom knew him. “A strong, skilled man. A bit traditional, trying to prove himself as the provider and caretaker but not one to be held down by norms. He kills not for lowly reasons of revenge but because he merely can. He sees his work as art, even when its cold and lifeless, he still wants it to be a spectacle.” Yugyeom stopped for a moment, arranging his thoughts. “He’s playing god.”

Those words hung between the two of them as they took them in. “What does that mean, Yugyeom? What does it mean to the killer?”

“He sees himself as above man. He wasn’t decorating the body, he was elevating it. He wants the person he likes to see what he’s capable of, how he can make something as repulsive as a dead body to art that moves.”

“Then why the trophies? Wouldn't that be uplifting the remnants of the murders a bit too much?” Jinyoung asked, pushing Yugyeom to think harder. “What could he be doing with the organs that would put himself above them?”

“I don’t know,” Yugyeom admitted. “That’s the one thing that doesn’t make sense. But I think they have something to do with the confession too.”

“Do you think that person will like it? Will they accept the courtship?”

“I do.”

Yugyeom tried his best to explain everything they’ve figured out to Jaebeom without the detail of how he saw a little too much in the Butcher’s work. It didn’t help narrow their search much but helped them build a more detailed profile of the killer. This left Yugyeom and Jinyoung free till more evidence came up while Jaebeom’s team worked on finding suspects.

“I’m heading back to the training centre, I’ve missed too many lectures,” Yugyeom said as they wrapped up their meeting.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday then,” Jinyoung said with a soft smile. They walked out of the building together and Jinyoung helped Yugyeom get into his car before waving him off.

For the first time in two weeks Yugyeom felt himself breathe. He was, even if temporarily, free of the cases and everything related to them. Driving had always been a comforting activity for Yugyeom, giving him the space and time to think for himself. He had two hours before his lecture so he decided to just use the time driving around town and maybe grab something to eat.

As he drove, he let his thoughts wander, but it kept coming back to case. There had to be something that he was missing. The question the doctor asked still bugged him. What was the Butcher doing with the organs and flesh? Surgical trophies make sense but doesn’t explain all the cases. What would he do with chunks of meat from the back, on either side of the spine?

That’s when it hit him. Yugyeom slammed the brakes on his car and pressed his head into the steering wheel. Angry horns from behind got him to snap out for a second and he pulled the car up by the side of the road and let the world stop around him.

Meat. Of course he saw the victims as less than himself. He saw them as pigs, animals meant to be grown just enough to be killed and taken apart for personal enjoyment. Yugyeom felt himself getting sick as he thought of the Butcher, of himself in the killer’s mind, eating his spoils.

He needed Jinyoung to know when he’d realised. He couldn’t deal with the thoughts alone and so he turned the car back around and drove to the doctor’s house.

Ringing the bell didn’t reward him with an answer. The door didn’t open regardless of how long he waited. That meant that either the doctor was still at his office or Yugyeom would have to wait a while for him to return from wherever he was. Just as he was about to turn away to try the office, he felt the impulse to try turning the knob on the door and he saw the door open under his fingers.

A flash of panic swept through him as he wondered if the doctor was in trouble. He didn’t seem the type to just leave his front door open. Reaching to his side, Yugyeom pulled out the gun that he’d been allowed to keep now that he was back in service. He tiptoed through the ground floor and found nothing. The house was seemingly empty.

He was about to climb the stairs to the first floor when he heard a sound. Footsteps from somewhere below him. Searching around the house, he tried to find where the way to the basement could be, till he found a door in the kitchen that looked like any other cabinet door. It led him down a set of steps to a metal room, designed much like the forensic lab at the NIS.

Turning the corner into the room, Yugyeom held his gun up but felt his grip loosening at the sight in front of him.

On a metal table lay Lim Jaebeom, very clearly dead. “Took you long enough,” A familiar voice called from behind him, forcing Yugyeom further into the room to turn to face it.

He should have known it was Jinyoung all along. It was way too obvious and that’s exactly why he missed it. “Why?” was the only thing Yugyeom could think of asking.

“You already know, Yugyeom. You explained it all to me yourself yesterday.” Jinyoung walked closer to Yugyeom despite the gun pointed squarely at his chest.

“And you thought I’d like all of this? That I’d say yes?” Yugyeom’s hands were shaking as he tried to hold his ground.

Jinyoung reached out to wrap his hand around the barrel of the gun and push Yugyeom’s arms down and out of the way. He used his other hand to grip the side of Yugyeom’s face. “I think you already have,” he whispered.

“No! I’m not a monster like you!” Yugyeom shouted as he pulled himself free of Jinyoung’s grip.

“Am I a monster? You’ve seen the inside of my head. You’ve seen what’s there. Can you look at all of that and still call me a monster?”

“Why kill Jaebeom though, I thought he was your friend!”

Jinyoung glanced at the body with a look of inconvenience, not regret. “An unfortunate casualty. I needed insurance, Yugyeom. I’m a simple man, if I can’t have what I want, I’ll burn it all down.” He looked at Yugyeom thoughtfully before continuing, “You know what I’m capable of. Walk out of here and you get framed for the murder of not only Lim Jaebeom but of all the Butcher’s victims. A perfect liar, who had access to everything he needed to carry his killings out, with medic training from his days with the police. No one would believe your innocence, I’ve made sure of that.”

Or you can stay with me. We put Jaebeom’s body up together, a proof of our courtship and then we run away. I have enough money for us to settle down anywhere in the world and never be bothered again.” He once again held Yugyeom’s face, who was shaken to his bones as he processed everything Jinyoung was saying. “You see me for who I am, not for who you want me to be. Stay, please.”

Yugyeom felt his knees weakening as a flood of emotions washed over him. He realised that some part of him had known since he saw the Butcher’s victim for the first time. He knew it was Jinyoung, that it was meant for him, and that he’d accepted the courtship.

“You knew that I wouldn’t be able to say no to you, insurance or not,” Yugyeom said.

“I had to cut off the ropes that held you here. Jaebeom would have tracked you down wherever you were if I’d left him alive.” Jinyoung held Yugyeom as he broke down and fell to his knees, finally giving himself entirely to Jinyoung.

“I’ll stay, I’ll see you for who you are,” Yugyeom whispered, “If you promise to hold dear the darkness in me too.”

“I promise.”

[mejomonster]

Okay so. My ability to focus is weak af recently. Regardless, gonna liveblog if I do manage to read ToT. I found Huai Dao Way of Evil on one of ur recommendations, as an older priest novel that kinda felt like the rough first try at the vibe Modu would nail later? (Also i have heard in reviews its uh best case cringe worst case insensitive at handling mental health issues which... modu handles so well and nuanced so, i mean i guess worst case at least things improved? But ive ran into enough (unfortunately) novels that handle the topic shittily that i hope im kind of hardened to it. Like i suspect sci mystery probably handles mental stuff suckily but im still gonna give it a shot one day for its other qualities, etc.) Anyway back to my point: huai dao may not be lets say up to spec of "wow one of my new top fave stories ever" like modu was. But hey! Still lets go on this journey! See how skills evolved, see what ideas were older and got cherished and improved ya know. (Also reasons id love to read Iterant Doctor and The Blue Seal by priest).

Also? Frankly. I love a good murder mystery. I read the first few pages. And already I can tell, at least writing style wise, ill like huai dao more than In The Dark (sorry ITD i just dont click as much style wise). Huai Dao doesnt open on a scary or mysterious scene to make me wonder whats going on: which Lie Huo Jiao Chou, Zhenhun, Modu, and Can Ci Pin all do fairly quickly (and its a good choice from my perspective lol as it gets me sucked in). But it does open with solid CHARACTERS. A couple pages in and i already have a much firmer Feel of the characters than 100 pages of In The Dark. I can tell the police girl has some vibes in common with Zhu Hong and Lang Qiao (but priest just loves a few certain Types in the investigator work groups), but she also distincrly doesnt have a Little Sister big mouth vibe of Lang Qiao and also doesnt have a cold judging but fond vibe like Zhu Hong, she feels distinct enough for me to get a sense of her as unique (something i think priest does well that... again ITD just did not really give me until maybe halfway thru book 1). The main chief boss seems a lot like ITD's chief, and Modu's. Except modu even early on had hints the chief had secrets, was a certain social class and tied to powerful city people. This chief, at least on opening pages, seems more close and friendly to his entire team and closer to their level.

And the main guy. Shen Yexi. On first impression, oh boy. I like him. Hes around my age, he got shot and just got cleared to come back to work. The setup is standard for many a mirder mystery and danmei crime novel (Poyun and In The Dark open similarly, its just a common setup). But immediately i can tell who he is on some level. He's friendly but not nearly in the way Zhao Yunlan is (not charismatic and big) and not in the show offy almost perfotmance Keep In Control way Luo Wenzhou is. He exudes a certain Serious nature (more like shen wei maybe? If anything) but also is sincere to people he considers somewhat close (like his team). Again, i deeply appreciate the way priest can immediately establish at least some specific sense of character quite quickly. Ive read bits of a few other novels lately that couldnt do that as fast, and for me unique characters i can really grasp goes a Long way into holding my attention.

Shen Yexi is about my age, as stubborn as me, probably too much of a workaholic and a touch too sincere about doing what hes intending to do (at least on first impression). And i can tell im gonna like him. As the 3rd case solving murders type priest story ive checked out (after zhenhun and modu), i was a bit worried the lead might feel like a less refined version of zhao yunlan or luo wenzhou or tao ran. Happy to say, so far, he does not. (Tao ran may be closest in temperment but... fei du and luo wenzhous point of views painted tao ran as so perfect and put on a pedestal of normal sweet noble Great that Shen Yexi just has NONE of tao rans vibe).

Anyway, expect more commentary at some point.

Btw I am reading The Way of Evil 坏道 on WOC Translations, the translation is complete:

[yanderefan-kimi]

Deitsuano: The Butterfly and Flower's Cage

I finished this otome game recently and haven't been able to stop thinking about it. If you know Japanese and enjoy otome games with a bit of horror, I HIGHLY recommend this. (It's completely free!)

I'm not going to go into why, exactly, I love this game so much because I would need to dive DEEP into spoiler territory to explain it all, but I'll give a brief introduction to the characters and story. Hopefully I'll be able to convince you to give it a try!

First, we have the heroine: Kokonoe Kasumi (her first name can be changed)

She was originally a noble, but her family fell into debt and her parents passed away. She started working as a waitress in order to pay off her debts under the assumed name of "Sakura." At the start of the story, she has been receiving strange gifts from an anonymous admirer and decides to ask her childhood friend for advice...

Her childhood friend (and my favorite character): Utashiro Tobari

He was originally the main character's fiancée before her family fell into debt. He's friendly, smart, energetic, and the heir of a wealthy family, which makes him rather popular. But he (quite obviously) still has feelings for the main character, and is often insisting that she should quit her job and move in with him.

Tobari's friend: Hirai Kyoutarou

He accompanied Tobari to hear the main character out about her secret admirer. He's a bit too serious and hates to lose, so he has trouble getting along with someone easygoing like Tobari. He's a huge bookworm and a bit shy (especially around girls,) but he's willing to help the main character without question.

The main character's regular customer: Tachibana Yahiro

He's popular among the waitresses at the café the main character works at, but he always asks for her to serve him. Despite him being a customer, the main character often finds herself confiding in him. He has even offered to help her solve the case with her secret admirer if she has no one else to consult.

The veteran waitress: Kyouko

The main character's senior at work. She comes off as cold and aloof, so many of the waitresses at the café have a hard time reaching out to her. She's also quite reserved and doesn't talk about herself much. Still, she's willing to help out the main character whenever she needs and teach her how to become an elite waitress.

~~~

I'm not going to say much else cuz I think it's so much better to experience it yourself, but believe me when I say there is a lot more to the characters than first meets the eye. It's been a while since a game has knocked my socks off with its twists like this game has.

Plus, most importantly, this is the only game that has Utashiro Tobari. No one does it like Tobari does.

All images and information taken from the official website

You can play the game (for free) here

[youhavehitawall]

Wait, BWD is your ocs?? DUDE!! I THOUGHT IT WAS OBSCURE SHOW YOU'D CARS-IFIED/CROSSED OVER I HADN'T WATCHED AND WANTED TO, I DIDN'T KNOW YOU CREATED IT, HOLY SHIT THAT'S AMAZING!!!

Have you written/made a comic or anything for it yet, or is it more along the lines of "ah yes, my ocs, time to create art with no context for anyone else" (because I do that too if that's the case LMFAO)

AHHH THANK YOUU <3! We have achieved a Professional level of Quality.... hoyl sit !

the stuff on Here is currently just art with no context, but i've got quite a bit written down around them and even more is waiting to be lovingly waxed and polished. These guys have been living in my head since 2019 and aren't going anywhere, but im still ironing out their personalities and the plot of the actual Story Itself- i originally intended to Write the story, but a Comic would also fit for a lot of the scenes i have planned

at the moment these are all future hypotheticals though. for now have a snippet of Ratchet's Horrible No Good Very Bad Day :)

[Before moving to BWD, but after escaping America, Ratchet and Austin are keeping a low profile in Melbourne. Ratchet suffers catastrophic injuries after being pushed off the freeway by a client of their American enemies. Two days after, he's released from surgery.]

Austin’s the first thing you hear. You’re dizzy and you're tired, but Austin’s light, smooth voice is nearby and you know he’s safe. Their voice is steady and constant, and you drift, aware that something is very wrong but not awake enough to parse it out. Whatever the issue is, Austin will fix it. They're good at that. 

The next time you’re aware, someone has pinged your proximity sensors. You crack your eyes open to see your hood has been removed and your engine is exposed to the open air, and you trace the lines, trying to fit the parts into a pattern, into recognisable individual components and failing. The engine is an enigma to you, warped and misaligned like it had been made of magazine clippings. 

The car that woke you is gentle, or maybe not- you realise dully that your engine is numb and cold. She isn’t a threat, poking around with something and humming at the screen, so your attention sways to the warmth along your left flank. You know instinctively that it’s Austin. You recognise his wax’s scent and the slight curve of gold in the dark, and you can feel his fuel lines pumping slowly in sleep like they’re your own. It’s night- the room is black except for the glaringly bright screens of the machines you’re hooked up to. Your vision is too blurry to make them out.

All this information is as warped and piecemeal as the engine in your chassis, like your mind is trying to solve a puzzle-box with no edges, details slipping from your grasp. You’re still not sure why you’re here so late in the night, Austin so close it feels like your flank and his are the same piece of metal.

The nurse sets off your sensors again, and you make eye contact, though barely. Her eyes are so bright in the gloom. She bares her teeth at you- no, she smiles at you. It’s meant kindly. Her teeth are flat and clean and not a threat. “Don’t try to speak, you’re not out of the woods yet.” She says. The meaning is abstract and strange. You couldn’t speak if you tried- the nerves in your mouth were just as dead as your engine, like they’d been pulled out and rewired. You’d bite your own tongue before forming a word. And you weren’t in the woods. You were in hospital, with Austin, who was alright, and you, Ratchet, were injured. You had been falling, and now you were in hospital, but alive.

“You have a roll cage, don’t you?” She continues, and this does make sense. Yes, you have a roll cage. You can normally feel it, like wearing thick armor. Its weight is a comfort.

You try to nod, your suspension making a low wailing shriek of protest like the springs were missing, and she smiles, and you don’t realise it’s closer to a frown. “You’re lucky to be alive, you know, that rollcage saved you.” She cycles air through her vents, watching the monitors you can’t decipher with an expression equally as confusing, before she bares her teeth again. “I’m done for now, so you sleep well and keep healing. I’ll be more careful of your proxies next time.”

She leaves, and as soon as she’s gone you can’t remember anything about her, though you try to, but her face is blurring in with the entire magazine-collage of the night. You’re lucky to be alive- that’s the part that sticks.  Now the dark and the quiet is drawing your mind out and idly, you wonder if this is the dream and that you’re still falling. Still hung in that moment before it all ends, body weightless, engine stalled. But the darkness is comforting and Austin’s fuel pressure is a steady, decipherable rhythm, and you fall back into sleep before the thought can complete itself.

[infiniteorangethethird]

bit lazier than some previous ones but I suppose that's fitting given the scene heh

(first / previous)

The mouth of the cave they chose as their resting spot rose above the forest, the moonlight reflecting off the leaves as they waved in the wind giving the impression of a vast ocean. A soothing sight, accompanied by the soothing sound of said breeze and the quiet crackling of fire Rowena made when the sun finally set.

Lucy pulled the hood of her sweater over her head. It was relatively warm for a winter night, which only served to remind her it wasn’t winter anymore.

“You can come into the cave if you’re cold, you know. It’s safe here. I checked.”

At the corner of her vision Rowena came to stand next to her, no doubt studying the second moon hanging in the sky among the far too many and far too bright stars. They waited like that for a few moments, contemplating the events of the day in silence.

“I kind of owe you an apology, don’t I?”

Lucy resisted the urge to give Rowena a pointedly confused look. She stuck with a pretend-careless remark instead. “Ya think?”

Rowena chuckled humorlessly. “First flights do tend to be pretty messy, if that’s what you’re worried about. You didn’t get special treatment.”

Lucy pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face in her arm and tracing scribbles into the dirt with her free hand. She hated emotional peptalks and she hated when strangers pretended to know her thoughts.

“I don’t suppose other people get dragged into their childhood classics for the experience. Or get chased to the death by unhinged medieval knights.”

Rowena’s sigh was dragged as if she was buying herself time to construct her next words.

“Look, I can’t apologize for us ending up here, because quite frankly, this is as weird to me as to you.” She settled down, one leg supporting her elbow and the other over the ledge of their little hideout. “But… you know, when I said I had training, I was saying the truth. Not just fighting but proper warrior training – stuff like surviving in the wilderness, being resourceful and basic healing techniques, all that sort of stuff. And I- I guess I’ve spent so much time around my kind, around willars who were familiar with living in unfamiliar environments- I never stopped to consider how all this might affect you, a human.”

Lucy finally dignified her companion with a look. Rowena’s eyes were fixed on the canopy stretched out in front of them, but her mind was clearly somewhere else.

“I always thought willars were more fragile, with our bones being hollow and whatnot,” she continued solemnly. “All your worries about food and getting lost and never returning home- I thought you were just saying those to annoy me. But you weren’t, were you? These things are very real problems for beings without magic, without the ability to just solve issues at the snap of your fingers.”

“Good job on noticing,” Lucy grunted. “If this is supposed to be an apology, you’re very shitty at it.”

Rowena bit her lip and Lucy turned back to her drawings.

“Well, I’m still sorry. And I’ll try to be better about it for the upcoming times.”

Lucy didn’t make any move to acknowledge the apology. It really didn’t matter whether Rowena’s intentions were genuine or not. Either way Lucy was stuck being dependent on her skills and abilities, and her best shot was to make sure their relationship was the least antagonistic as possible.

Seeing her lack of reaction, Rowena thankfully dropped the subject. There was nothing worse than someone forcing to act remorseful for the sake of someone who really couldn’t care for it. Even if it was probably the first time anyone went out of their way to admit their shortcomings to Lucy in such a way.

Anyone besides Leo, in any case.

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut to ease the sting of tears. Probably just the exhaustion.

Still, better to change the subject just to be safe.

“What does it feel like?” she blurted out.

“Hm?”

“To fly, I mean.”

If Rowena found the question strange, she didn’t show. “What, couldn’t get enough of the branches in your face?”

So much for trying to make conversation. “I assumed real actual flight doesn’t involve slamming head-first into trees, but who am I to judge.”

Rowena hummed, amused at the image. “It’s pretty good,” she replied. “Kind of like running. Except it’s a lot faster and if you stop you’ll have a lot farther to fall to the ground.”

“You have a strange definition of good.”

“I was exaggerating, you dummy,” she gently smacked Lucy with her wing. “Once you get the hang of it, you don’t really think about what could potentially go wrong. It’s just you and the endless skies and sometimes idiotic birds fly into you but that’s pretty rare.”

Lucy tilted her head up, trying to imagine the feeling. The wind blowing around you as you speed through the air, not bound by gravity and the two dimensions of a life on the ground. Must be a freeing experience.

She didn’t have to look to know Rowena was studying her. “You really wanna go for another round, don’t ya?”

Lucy shrugged, feigning indifference. “If this world is like the books, then our best opportunity would be riding dragons that try to eat you alive, and I’m most definitely not trusting you to lift me off the ground ever again.”

“Whatever you say,” Rowena snorted, before getting up and dusting off her pants. “Anyway, I think we should both rest. Humans need sleep every night as far as I’m aware, and I gotta ensure your claw marks don’t become a permanent disfigurement on my back.”

“It’s not like you don’t deserve them,” Lucy shot back, but still let herself be hoisted to her feet by Rowena’s helping hand. She was tired, after all, so there was no point in refusing the aid.

Maybe when she’ll wake up tomorrow, this will all have been nothing but a bad dream.

[itsmemateinnit]

Whitechapel series 4 press pack

Ben Bishop plays DC Finley Mansell

How do you like the new format?

I think everyone involved agrees that the last series really came into its own. To me Whitechapel isn’t just about physical gore or body parts, it’s a psychological game, and I think if you can play a game with the viewers then that’s what Whitechapel is all about. What I think is great about having three stories is that sometimes with a traditional three parter there tends to be a dip down in the middle. Here the audience is caught in, released, caught in and then released again.

Can you tell us a bit about what happens to Mansell this series?

Mansell starts to receive a lot of sinister prank calls, but we don’t know whether they’re genuine calls or something going on with his state of mind. Everyone has something going on in the series, and that’s what Mansell deals with. He also falls for Kent’s sister, who we meet in the first episode. It’s the first time Mansell has ever fallen properly for someone and been in love and in a serious relationship. She’s the one I think.

What is Mansell’s relationship like with Kent?

Kent and Mansell are chalk and cheese. Mansell is a bit more blunt, a spade is a spade with Mansell. I think he has a softer spot for Kent than we probably realise though. Kent is fiercely but quietly ambitious. I don’t think Mansell is afraid to cry, and that’s the great thing about him. I think if Mansell felt he’d really upset somebody he would be mortified and wouldn’t blame anybody but himself.

Is there a divide between characters this series?

I think Mansell clicks with Miles and Kent clicks with Chandler, and there is a bit of a ‘bromance’ going on between those two couples. That’s why I think it’s fantastic that Riley was written in. It works to have that team broken by a female, and a strong female with a stable family life. I think we’re a complete and balanced team now, Riley adds a lot of warmth to it.

Mansell is quite a comedic character, is that something that comes naturally to you?

I was always the school clown when I grew up so yeah it did. I was always interested in telling stories rather than what was being taught.

How has Mansell developed over the series?

I would say Mansell is the most emotional of all the characters, and I think that’s true of anyone who tries to hide behind gags or tries to be funny all the time. Mansell has a very strong emotional storyline in this series. I think he feels he’s discovered something real in his life for the first time. It’s a really strong storyline for him and it’s great to play.

Are there similarities between you and Mansell?

I like to think of Mansell as his own character but people always love to remind me how much of him is me! There are differences, clearly, in that I’m happily married! Mansell is a lot more of a Londoner than I am I think.

How has it been having Steve write an episode this series?

Ben and Caroline are fantastic and they’re great at writing the thrilling and psychological elements of the show. What’s been great about having Steve write one of the stories is that he knows us so well, so when he writes the character driven

scenes he is able to bring out the quirks, and really bring things to life. So it will be interesting to see how that comes across.

Are you working with new directors this series?

Yes both of the directors on this new series are perfect. They’re both really interested in making the stories character driven. I think when you’re playing cops people want to be able to relate to them, and they want them to do normal day-to-day things. The fact that we don’t solve these crimes is great because coppers do get it wrong sometimes. A lot of cases are solved by witnesses coming forward or a bit of luck and I like that that’s something Whitechapel does.

Tell us about Hornsey Town Hall and the other spooky locations?

Working at Hornsey is great, physically it’s quite cold and dark and probably haunted so that works well! A lot of the locations we film in are pretty much as they’ve been left, so if they look damp and cold – they are!

Did you know a lot about the East End before you started filming?

I didn’t know much about Whitechapel and London when I started, nor do I confess to know a huge amount about London now! I’m from Bournemouth originally. I worked on a market stall and I started in Bournemouth and then moved to Brixton doing that, so I’m a South London boy now.

How did you get into acting?

I started in advertisements. I was the face of Coca-Cola for Europe and I used to do loads and loads of adverts. It was a financial thing, but one day I just decided I didn’t want to do it anymore, I knocked it on the head and then did four years of theatre. After that I worked for Warner Brothers doing voice over animations for a long time.

What was your Whitechapel audition like?

When I auditioned I thought it was all about the character I was bringing forward, but I had about six meetings for Whitechapel and I realise now that they were sussing out whether I would fit in with the rest of the cast. You’re going to be spending so much time with a group of people that it’s about connecting as much as whether someone is right for the role.

Tell us about the camaraderie on set?

There is a great camaraderie. We have a lot of banter and it’s a lot of fun but we do take it very seriously at the same time. Phil and Rupert are very methodical and we always feel we can have an input - not necessarily creating the stories but making things the best that they can be.

[clearvoir]

abra’s  older  verse   (   the  five  stages  of  grief  )  is  a lot  more  open  for  development  and  plotting.    especially  with  her  graduating  college  and  starting  her  detective  -  esque  era  where  she  ends  up  trying  to  find  and  locate  the  rest  of  the  true  knot’s  victims,     talking  to  the  different  families  and  towns  of  where  children  disappeared  without  warning.    rose  the  hat  says  in  the  book  that  there  could  be  hundreds  among  hundreds  of  victims,    and  i  think  abra  (  being  as  justice  driven  she  is  )  wouldn’t  stop  until  she  found  all  of  them  and  gave  the  families  peace  of  mind. 

[even-disco-baby]

CINDY THE SKULL — “Evening, officers. It’s a bit late to be skulking about, don’t you think?” Though she’s lounging around the coal room door as languidly as ever, her pale eyes ringed with coal dust seem to bore a hole in your skull.

YOU — “I’m looking for a place to sleep.”

CINDY THE SKULL — She lifts an eyebrow at you and Kim. “Did the cafeteria man finally decide he wasn’t interested in keeping a pigsty?”

YOU — “No, Kim is still staying there. I just can’t pay my bill.”

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant clears his throat slightly. “Let’s not give people the impression that officers of the RCM make a habit of dodging their tabs, detective.”

CINDY THE SKULL — She glances at Kim, lips pursing just slightly.

EMPATHY — His little comment irritated her. Curious.

CINDY THE SKULL — “Tough luck, officer.” She shrugs, the faux fur collar of her coat brushing her cheeks. “There’s a perfectly good garbage bin in the courtyard. It’s got a lovely view. Real prime real estate.”

YOU — “I know. Garte said I could sleep there, but I’d rather find somewhere else.”

CINDY THE SKULL — She blinks her coal-smeared eyes at you. Then, she turns to the lieutenant. “Is he joking?”

KIM KITSURAGI — “No,” he says drily. “He is not. If you know of any… more *comfortable* places to sleep, we would be much obliged.”

CINDY THE SKULL — She stares openly at the two of you, as if in disbelief.

COMPOSURE — The absurdity of your plight has nearly broken right through her veneer of youthful detachment.

CINDY THE SKULL — “Maybe I’m the one who should be a detective. I can solve your little case for you right now.” She points to the lieutenant. “Your room.”

KIM KITSURAGI — His face is solid stone. “No.”

ESPIRIT DE CORPS — There are so many reasons why he does *not* want to do that. He has neither the time nor any desire to share them with Cindy. Or with you, for that matter.

-1 MORALE

CINDY THE SKULL — She whistles softly. “Damn. Must be true what they say about pigs and cannibalism.”

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant does not rise to her bait.

EMPATHY — But there is something playing at the downturned corners of his mouth and the furrow of his brow. Something like guilt.

YOU — “What about the coal room, Cindy?”

CINDY THE SKULL — She outright laughs at you. “Fuck no! You want in my room, get a warrant, piggo!”

LOGIC — While drug possession is not a crime in Revachol, it doesn’t stop most cops from confiscating substances from vulnerable civilians for their own personal use. Including yourself, most likely.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Hey, good idea! Cindy’s an artsy type, she’s probably got all kinds of shit to get her creative juices flowing.

PAIN THRESHOLD — And to get her through the cold and the hunger and the cruelty.

VOLITION — No. Don’t make things any worse than they already are.

YOU — “But then… where do I go?”

CINDY THE SKULL — She shrugs again. “It’s not my problem, is it? Ask your partner, here. Or maybe you should take a hint and go back home to the farm.”

YOU — “I don’t know if I have a home… I think I lost it.”

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant’s frown deepens. He stares down at his boots rather than meet your or Cindy’s eye.

CINDY THE SKULL — A long, almost uncomfortable silence. Her eyes are hardening as they take you in— you and your bloodshot eyes, your slightly labored breathing, your clothes that are certainly too thin to keep you warm tonight.

EMPATHY — She feels sorry for you, and she resents herself for it.

CINDY THE SKULL — She lets out a long sigh, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “All right, piggy. Just quit looking at me all pitiful… You saw the foreclosed apartment in the hall, right? If you wait for the cleaning lady to go to sleep, and you don’t stay long, it’s not a bad place. Better than the trash, anyway.”

REACTION SPEED — She seems to regret it as soon as the words leave her mouth. She’s not thrilled at the idea of trusting your honor not to rat out or even arrest your fellow squatters. But it’s too late now.

SUGGESTION — Wait. Is it really that simple? What if she expects something in return for the information? Or she could be setting a trap for you!

YOU — “Hang on. What’s the catch?”

CINDY THE SKULL — A wry smile breaks out across her face. It almost looks pained. “No catch, officer. I’m no snitch. Nor a pig.”

RHETORIC — You’ve insulted her more deeply than she cares to let on. She helped you because she knows your struggles intimately. Struggles that have claimed the lives of people she cared about. But now you’ve reminded her of the difference between you: she calls you pig because you sold your humanity for the power to strip others of their own.

EMPATHY — She’s sad. She was born sad and she will die sad. You are the one making her sad.

YOU — “Hey, Cindy?”

CINDY THE SKULL — “What?”

“I’m sorry. Thank you for helping me.”

“You shouldn’t judge me. We’re the same. We do what it takes to survive. You have the Skulls, I have the RCM.”

“Can’t we just get along?”

“I’ll pay you back somehow. I’ll make things right.”

“I don’t want to be this kind of animal anymore.”

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant looks up at you, startled. Concerned, even. He almost looks as though he wants to say something, but nothing comes to him. He just stares at you, at a loss.

CINDY THE SKULL — She levels you with a steady gaze. Even without the coal dust, her eyes would look sunken into her wan face. If it weren’t for the roundness still clinging to her cheeks, she would have lost nearly all trace of her youth by now.

“I don’t think you even understand what kind of animal you are,” she says coolly.

ENCYCLOPEDIA — Homo sapien.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — A tiny, violent ape.

AUTHORITY — Predator.

HALF LIGHT — Prey.

VOLITION — You’re a human, Harry. Nothing more or less.

INLAND EMPIRE — The saddest and cruelest animal of them all.

[froggy-frogz]

Could u do headcannons with jinx,Vi and Caitlyn where the reader says something hurtful to them in the heat of an argument :)

( also sorry to hear u got covid )

A/N: I'm feeling a lot better, though doing nothing all day is killing me lmao- I did start learning the ukulele today though! We'll see how that goes:,) my fingers are already t i r e d. Anyway, hope you enjoy anon hjafsdj I'm a bit tired so I hope this is good!

Jinx

Quite possibly the last person out of the three to say something harsh too in an argument, because though Jinx acts tough, and for the most part she is, some of that is just a fade, a mask, etc, and that can all fall apart if someone close to her says something about her or her past.

It was another silly argument, something that didn't even really matter but you two had gotten to the part where you two were angrily tossing around insults, ones that you two didn't even believe when you fucked up majorly.

You'd spit the fateful words; "Y'know, mayb your sister was right."

You didn't have to say anything else, but those few words were enough for the argument to stop, and for her to just, freeze.

As soon as you'd send them, you'd knew the damage was done, but before you could even start an apology, Jinx was gone.

You didn't bother going after her, you figured it would only upset her more.

You waited for her, for a while, just sitting in her hideout. It would take hours before she came back.

She might be gone for a day or two.

When she does get back, you apologize. Again and again.

You didn't mean it, you were just mad, and you knew Jinx somewhat knew that, but you did still say it.

There ends up being damage done, and you do owe her because, for the next little bit, you have to work to build back some of the trust you had broken.

Vi

There wasn't much that you could say or do that would piss Vi off. Hell, most of you two's arguments weren't really arguments, just someone would do something that the other didn't like, and then either someone would snap or just get ignored.

Though it was almost getting killed that you two had a huge argument. She was upset with you for risking your life and you were mad because you were fine, just a couple of bruises and a fracture, so why was she upset.

"Why do you care so much? I'm not dead-"

You knew of Vi's past, but you didn't know that asking "Why do you care so much" would get her going. You weren't wrong. You weren't dead. Not even close.

She doesn't leave, but you can tell that she's hurt. If not from your words, but from the entire ordeal as a whole.

Vi won't cry, but she'll get quiet, quiet enough that it flags in your head that something is wrong.

"Vi, I'm sorry." You'd sigh, "I won't pull anything like that again."

She won't respond to that, but only when you try to get close to her, only then will she grab you, and squeeze the shit out of you.

"You fucking better not."

Safe to say that you're going to be stuck to her side when you're recovering, and for a bit afterward.

Caitlyn

Like Vi, you two don't get into too many arguments, it's like a mutual understanding. Don't do stupid shit, and no one will get upset.

Though, when she does try to go solve a case by herself, and you find out? That shit ends up starting an argument.

Caitlyn argues that she can handle it, while you argue that she needs help, even if she doesn't think so, because you don't want to lose her.

This is where it gets sour, as she accuses you of siding with her parents, and you hit her right back with the, "Well? Maybe they're right."

She's wounded. You're supposed to side with her. Not them.

Instead of running off, or staying quiet, she's going to turn and leave the room, and for the next day, give you the cold shoulder.

Sadly nothing you say to her will help your case.

It's only when she comes to you, and tells you that she can handle it. She's done it before, and she's fine.

You two are going to have a long talk because while you have your concerns, they aren't going to stop her.

[rockislandadultreads]

Picks for PRIDE: Queer Historical Romances

A Lady for a Duke by Alexis Hall

When Viola Caroll was presumed dead at Waterloo she took the opportunity to live, at last, as herself. But freedom does not come without a price, and Viola paid for hers with the loss of her wealth, her title, and her closest companion, Justin de Vere, the Duke of Gracewood. Only when their families reconnect, years after the war, does Viola learn how deep that loss truly was. Shattered without her, Gracewood has retreated so far into grief that Viola barely recognises her old friend in the lonely, brooding man he has become. As Viola strives to bring Gracewood back to himself, fresh desires give new names to old feelings. Feelings that would have been impossible once and may be impossible still, but which Viola cannot deny. Even if they cost her everything, all over again.

The Perks of Loving a Wallflower by Erica Ridley

As a master of disguise, Thomasina Wynchester can be a polite young lady—or a bawdy old man. Anything to solve the case. Her latest assignment unveils a top-secret military cipher covering up an enigma that goes back centuries. But when Tommy’s beautiful new client turns out to be the highborn lady she’s secretly smitten with, more than her mission is at stake... Bluestocking Miss Philippa York doesn’t believe in love. Her cold heart didn't pitter-patter when she was betrothed to a duke, nor did it break when he married someone else. All Philippa desires is to rescue her priceless manuscript and decode its clues to unmask a villain. She hates that she needs a man's help—so she’s delighted to discover the clever, charming baron at her side is in fact a woman. Her cold heart... did it just pitter-patter?

The Hellion's Waltz by Olivia Waite

It’s not a crime to steal a heart... Sophie Roseingrave hates nothing more than a swindler. After her family lost their piano shop to a con man in London, they’re trying to start fresh in a new town. Her father is convinced Carrisford is an upright and honest place, but Sophie is not so sure. She has grave suspicions about silk-weaver Madeline Crewe, whose stunning beauty doesn’t hide the fact that she’s up to something. All Maddie Crewe needs is one big score, one grand heist to properly fund the weavers’ union forever. She has found her mark in Mr. Giles, a greedy draper, and the entire association of weavers and tailors and clothing merchants has agreed to help her. The very last thing she needs is a small but determined piano-teacher and composer sticking her nose in other people’s business. If Sophie won’t be put off, the only thing to do is to seduce her to the cause. Will Sophie’s scruples force her to confess the plot before Maddie gets her money? Or will Maddie lose her nerve along with her heart?

The Pursuit Of... by Courtney Milan

What do a Black American soldier, invalided out at Yorktown, and a white British officer who deserted his post have in common? Quite a bit, actually. • They attempted to kill each other the first time they met. • They're liable to try again at some point in the five-hundred mile journey that they're inexplicably sharing. • They are not falling in love with each other. • They are not falling in love with each other. • They are… Oh, no. The Pursuit Of… is about a love affair between two men and the Declaration of Independence. It’s a novella of around 38,000 words.

[yourmidnightlover]

never go back

Summary: spencer notices how your boyfriend takes advantage of you and finally does something about it.

TW: titty sucking, oral (female receiving), cheating, dom!spencer, scratching, slapping (only one), cursing, choking, spencer dirty talk lol, penetrative sex, creampie. *let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 3,724

A/N - i'm using noah as the 'other man' schtick in probably all of my future one shots bc i can't find it within myself to create a new character each and every time. so your douche of a bf will always be noah miller. if you ever get a nice bf i'll be sure to change his name but for now this is what we're working with. got it? got it.

masterlist

-------------------------------

there are many things that people should go back to. schooling, maybe an old job, an old vacation spot.

your boyfriend was not one of those things.

mostly because your boyfriend sucked.

it was now a fact that spencer reid himself had come to believe quite a while ago and now, well now he had reason.

he had always felt as though you were too good for noah, similar for practically anyone in existence (himself included). he was always a complete ass to you no matter the circumstance.

there was one time the entire team had been back really late from a case that took a toll on all of you. it was emotionally and physically draining. the flight back had been delayed because of weather issues in the state you had been in, meaning you couldn't leave until days after it was solved.

any time you had gone to answer the phone, spencer would be able to see your stance and body language through the glass window. you had been apologizing for something you couldn't even control. you would narrow your brows the way you only did when you were being yelled at. you bit your lip the way you did when you were being made to feel guilty.

he was guilt tripping you for something you couldn't even control.

when you had gotten back it wasn't any better. noah had been giving you the cold shoulder. he was defensive when you asked what was wrong.

and that was only 3 weeks into the relationship.

after being together for 2 months, you had gotten flowers delivered on your desk. you assumed they were from your boyfriend, reasonably so, and went to go thank him. spencer saw the shock in your eyes when you saw your boyfriend huddled in the corner with some new intern. spencer saw the look in your eye change from sadness to anger in the blink of his own.

you took a deep breath, and walked away from the situation, completely missing the way he tucked the intern's hair behind her ear as he leaned in to whisper something to make her giggle. when you got back to your desk you threw the flowers in the garbage can, not even bothering to read the note.

it was pretty indirect, but looking into it he realized it was an issue that should've been addressed. every time the team would go out together, everyone was clearly invited. you would always decline because 'noah wanted to take me out tonight' or 'noah said he needs me, so i'll have to rain check'.

it wasn't because you were a bad person, the opposite actually. it was because noah was taking advantage of your kindness.

because any time you needed him, 'noah's out with the boys' or 'noah had to work late' or, here's a kicker, 'noah had a hard time at work'. as if you don't have a hard time looking at dead bodies while he just has to write up reports.

even when you got injured during a case, shot in the shoulder, noah seemed as though he couldn't have cared less. he wouldn't even go to your apartment to visit you while you were in recovery because 'noah didn't have time to visit'.

spencer could even recall when you went out with the girls one night, spencer being the designated driver, that you had told them how 'noah didn't want you to dress too provocatively so you had to wear something more modest'.

now, spencer doesn't care all to much about what you wear because, frankly, it's none of his business. but now that he heard how noah cared oh-so-much, he decided to wrack his brain for the 'provocative' outfits you've worn. there was not a single one that anyone should make a comment about. you looked stunning no matter what you wore, so you'd grab any man's attention no matter the clothing on your body.

but spencer? he made sure to never be that much of an asshole to you. he made sure to make up for him being an asshole.

he would grab you some morning coffee like you always had before you had a boyfriend. he would make sure to tell you that you looked lovely when you were able to go out with the team. he would visit you when you injured yourself and were lonely, he even stayed back for a few days with you to help you get through it.

hell, he was the one to get you the flowers. you had been having a rough week and spencer thought it might cheer you up. he had gifted you a bouquet of 12, blue chiffon flowers because those were your favorite.

but this was his breaking point. you had come to his apartment, once again in the middle of the night, talking about noah fucking miller cheating on you.

he had done it once before when he was 'out with the boys' you decided to stop by when he said he'd be back, wanting to just be the amazing girlfriend that you are. so when you walk in and hear your boyfriend moaning along with another woman that isn't you, you immediately run back out. you run back out and drive all the way to spencer's.  

and here you are again. spencer wasn't mad at you, it was noah he was mad at. he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

spencer had always liked you, no, he's always loved you. everything about you. how could he not? you're perfect.

but loving you how he does and seeing you being used as a toy to fuck for a certain noah miller not only made his heart ache but also made his blood boil.

spencer wasn't an idiot. he had heard the way the old morgan had referred to women. the thing is, noah is way more of a fuckboy than the old morgan ever was. and that scared spencer to pieces. he knew that you would only be missing out on team outings just to get fucked by a douchebag. he knew that the only reason said douchebag wouldn't visit you was because you couldn't fuck. he knew that the reason said douchebag was cornering that intern was to fuck her, too.

so when you arrived at spencer's place, this time you weren't crying. you were furious. you were angry and upset, as was spencer.

"he did it again, spence," you breathed out as you paced across his living room floor. "i was supposed to meet him in a few hours but i was going to surprise him and i caught him with another tramp! i didn't even confront him. i just- i just left!"

"cheated? noah?" he asked as if he didn't believe it at first, not wanting to seem like as much of a dick as noah.

"yes! cheated. god! i am so ANGRY!" you ran your hand through your hair, a grunt leaving your mouth. "and... and frustrated! and... UGH!" you sighed aggressively.

"and what?" spencer asked as he stood up, slowly making his way to you. "what else?" he said, his hand now brushing that stubborn strand of hair behind your ear.

"i-i'm..." you trailed off, getting lost in his beautiful eyes.

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit how much you loved spencer. but you thought he'd never love you like that. not since you helped him through jj getting married. he really thought she was it for him, at least that's what you'd come to think he believed. over the years you had grown so much closer and grown such an attraction for each other that the other person knew about. it was ironic, truly.

"say it, y/n," spencer leaned over you, his lips ghosting over yours. "i need to hear you say it."

"god, just kiss me," you said, your hands flying to the back of his hair to push his mouth to yours.

there was no hesitation from spencer to give you everything he had. his hand on the side of your face remained there as his other hand drifted to your waist to pull you closer to his body. your tongues met fervently with covetous, passion, and longing yet with just gentle firmness that felt protecting and as if it was how everything was supposed to be.

"please, spencer," you quietly whispered once you unlatched from one another.

"please what, princess," he asked, his hand running through your hair.

"i just... i need you," she pleaded with him, her hands still tugging gently on his hair. "please," you put your foreheads together, breathing in each others air as you silently begged him to help you in any way that he could.

"i'd do anything for you," he whispered so delicately as if the entire team were standing right beside you. "you know i'd do anything for you."

"then do something," you demanded.

spencer took action by kissing you just as intensely as before, this time his hands went to your ass. he grabbed your thighs to signal for you to jump, once you did you wrapped your legs around his torso as he carried you into his bedroom. he set you down just in front of the bed before you began to undo his shirt, him returning the favor by undoing yours.

"god, i've wanted you for so long," he growled, nipping gently at your earlobe as he laid you back on the bed. "lift your hips," he ordered, you obeyed his every command. you always would. "good girl," he praised as he ran his hands down your now bare waist.

"please," you begged, your hips bucking up to get any source of friction. "spencer..." you trailed off.

"i know, princess. i know," he said before climbing on top of you, connecting your lips with his once again, this time much more eager than before if that were possible.

as you arched your back, he took the opportunity to unclasp the hook on your bra. you shrugged it off your shoulders to allow him to throw the bra somewhere else in his room. he finally took a breath, removing his lips from yours to admire the view in front of him.

"god, you're so beautiful," he growled before placing gentle but eager kisses along the tops of your breasts, massaging the one his mouth wasn't on.

he pressed his knee between your legs, allowing you to buck your hips up to get that release you wanted so bad. you whined as he took your nipple in his mouth, his tongue flicking past it rapidly as he occasionally nibbled on it gently.

"spen-spencer," you ran your hands through his hair, tugging gently on the roots.

"mmm," he sat his head up, trailed kisses up your throat. "god, i love you so much."

"i-i love you," you moaned, pulling his head up to connect your lips together. "i love you so so much."

"i'm so glad to hear that," he huffed a sigh of relief. "because otherwise it'd be awkward when i did this," he began trailing kisses down your body, leading down towards your center. "i'll show you what it's like to be with a man that actually loves and respects you, yea? show you what it feels like to actually be pleased by a man? what it's like to be with a real man?" he teased.

his fingers trailed around your entrance, gathering your arousal that'd been building for what felt like ages. he pressed gentle kisses around your pussy before finally connecting his lips with your clit, a low groan emitting from your body because of the contact.

"yes, please," you shot your head back, relishing in the feeling of the direct skin contact.

"hey," spencer slapped your thigh, your head shot back up to see him between your legs, a truly beautiful sight that you'd never get tired of. "eyes on me," he demanded before going back down on you, not breaking eye contact as he brought out sounds from you that you weren't even sure you could make. "talk to me, princess. let me know how it feels."

"fe-feels so good," you sighed, taking your breasts in your hands and massaging them. "i-i can-can't even think," you stuttered out, too caught up in the pleasure to form a coherent sentence.

you had felt so good as he sucked on your clit, succeeding in bringing you closer to the edge than noah ever has, but when he inserted two fingers into your entrance...

"oh my fuck!" your hands shot down to grab onto his locks, pushing him further into your body, a low groan leaving him.

his fingers didn't stop their work. he curled them at just the right spot, sending you flying over the edge. spencer used his free hand to grab onto your thigh to keep them from closing in completely on his head, still working you through your high. he placed a kiss on your clit once more before he brought his head up to you, connecting your lips passionately.

"could noah ever make you come like that? huh? could he make you feel so good you could barely even think?" he grabbed your chin in his hands, holding it in place to look at him as you shook your head the best you could. "no?"

"mm-mm," you tried to shake your head 'no' once more.

"did you think of him while i was going down on you? were you thinking about how he fucked that little tramp?" he asked harshly, you shook your head 'no' again. "oh, what were you thinking, princess?" he finally released your face so you could speak.

"ab-about how well you know my body. about how, how good you looked between my legs. about how much i love you," you replied quickly, knowing exactly what to say.

"right answer," he connected your lips once more. "what do you want, love?" he asked, peppering soft kisses along your jaw where his hands once held your throat firmly.

"you. i-i want you in-inside me," you swallowed, your hand finding his and pulling it up to your lips to press a kiss to it, then another, then another, then another. "please, doctor?" you used your best puppy dog eyes you knew he couldn't resist.

"god, call me that again," he rasped lowly.

"what... doctor?" you took his hand and started sucking on his fingers, letting them slip in and out slowly and then moving onto the next.

"fuck, yes," he growled as he pressed another kiss to your lips before lining himself up at your center. "are you sure, princess?" he traced your jaw with the fingers you were previously sucking on.

"yes, sir," you nodded. "i'm sure."

you felt him slowly push inside of you slowly to allow you to adjust to his size. you had your suspicions of how big he was, but feeling him inside of you made it all much more real.

"fuck, you're so tight," he moaned into your ear quietly as he slowly pulled back out, going in just as slow.

"sp-spence-"

"wrong," he slapped your face gently, a whimper leaving your lips before he grasped your face to make you look him in the eyes.

"doc-doctor," you corrected yourself.

"good girl," he said, feeling your pussy clench from the praise. "oh you like that?" he felt it again. "maybe you just like hearing me talk, yea?" his pace began picking up slowly. "you like hearing how this pussy makes me feel? how tight... and warm... and wet it is?"

"u--uh huh," you nodded your head the best you could as he began thrusting much more rapid, hitting that special spot inside of you with each movement.

"it seems like you haven't felt this good in a long time huh? haven't had your pussy pounded like this in a while?" he asked as he was catching his breath.

"ne-never, doctor," you confirmed, hands reaching around his back and dragging your nails down, surely leaving scratch marks all down them.

"fuck," he growled. "noah never made you feel this good princess? never made you forget how to speak in sentences? never knew how to get you going like this?"

"n-no, no! never! god, never!" you cried as you pulled his body even closer to you. "i-i'm close, please!"

"you wanna come all over my dick, yea? you want to show me how much your pussy loves it when a real man fucks it?"

that was it to let that spring burst inside of you, parts flying everywhere. you cried his name as he worked you through your orgasm, holding onto his shoulders and hair to keep you grounded.

"cum inside me, please," you begged. "fi-fill me up."

"fuck, whatever you want, princess," he kept pounding into you at a rapid pace. "god, i'm gonna come inside you, and send you back to that scumbag of a boyfriend so he can see that you're mine now. so he can see what happens when his girlfriend is mistreated and fucked by someone who knows what they're doing, yea?"

"yea, yea!" you whined, nails digging back into his skin as he released his load into you, thrusting it gently back inside after.

"god, i love you so much," he moaned into your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek by your ear.

"i love you," you replied, stroking his hair to help him come down, him still inside of you. he began thrusting inside of you once again.

"don't want any of it to spill out before you get to him," he felt you clench around him one more time. "you're very responsive, princess. i like that about you."

"it-it's just you, spence. it's always been you," you pulled him in for another kiss.

this one was full of passion but not the kind of eagerness. it was full of desire and longing, pent up emotions flowing out into one another fluidly.

"now let me go see my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend," you huffed as he pulled out of you, wincing from the overstimulation. "i'll see you later?"

"i'll see you later," he pressed a kiss to your forehead before helping you gather your clothes.

driving back to his apartment, you felt rather giddy with yourself. should you have felt bad? absolutely not. he's a manipulative asshole who's used you for sex on numerous occasions, so he deserved the bittersweet irony of what was coming to him.

*get it, coming to him? lol i'm sorry i had to :)*

you knocked on the door softly, greeted by a rather chipper noah who grabbed your face as soon as he saw you, connecting your lips. his kiss was nothing like spencer's. his lips weren't as soft and tentative. they weren't plump and round, they were harsh and rough and unpleasant.

he quickly led you to the bedroom, not to your surprise. he sat down on the bed, you straddled his hips, acting as if it were spencer instead - which was pretty hard to do after knowing what he was like in the sack.

you felt his boner through his pants quickly after you got on top of him. then when he flipped you over and pulled your pants and underwear down, he was met with a surprise.

"someone's excited to see me," he chuckled before licking a thick stripe from your slit to clit, very aggressive to where it almost hurt to have the pressure. "god you taste so good, doll."

he continued at this for a while, inserting his tongue to your hole very once in a while and licking up yours and spencer's arousal with it. you faked your moans and whimpers as his ministrations became more eager, not really getting you anywhere.

after he was finished with your turn - no, he didn't even make you cum - he laid back on the bed as if he were waiting for you to get on top of him again.

"actually," you stood up from the bed, pulling up your clothes with you. "i'm done with this. we're over."

you watched his face as he took in the information just released to him. it changed from surprised and shocked, to confused, to disgusted, to angry and frustrated.

"what the fuck?" he sat up from the bed, a disgruntled look on his face. "you wait until after you cum to tell me this?" he walked over to you, arms flailing in the air.

"yea. i did. and by the way, i didn't cum," you informed him. "that's something you've never really been good at making me do. although i'm not sure how you've been able to convince me to do anything with the way you treat me."

"what do you mean? i'm a good gu-"

"shut up for one second, please," you rolled your eyes, running your hand through your hair. "i know you've cheated on me numerable times. i stayed because i thought that maybe there was a reason, but i've come to realize that i was just... settling with you," you shrugged.

"you've treated me like crap since this 'relationship' started and i'm tired of it. i know someone who not only treats me with respect and kindness, but can also actually make me cum. shocker," you chuckled.

"who is this asshole? what the hell-"

"i wasn't finished, sweetie," you spat out viciously. "he's not an asshole. you're the asshole. you're the one that's getting dumped. so this is goodbye," you turned around to walk out of his room before leaving him with one more thought. "how did his cum taste with mine?" you tilted your head innocently, smiling at his shocked face as he realized what you meant before walking out.

and you were never more glad that you didn't have to go back to him anymore.

taglist:

@muffin-cup​ @greenprisca​ @averyhotchner​ 

[kunikinnie]

could i ask for a ranpo sfw alphabet? :-] tysm!!!

Edogawa Ranpo SFW Alphabet

a/n: here it is! sorry it suuuper long I tried my best to understand his character D:

BTW the version I used here is different from the Ango one. There's a version by ry0chann using the set I previously used, and I absolutely agree with what she wrote so please check it out if you haven't!

A - Attractive (What do they find most attractive in a person and about you?)

He’s not one for looks, and among the several qualities in a person he treasures honesty and kindness the most.

BUT he honestly loves any part of you that’s soft. Your chest, your arms, your cheeks, your thighs, or all of the above? As long as it’s squishy he likes it a lot.

B - Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why Not? How big?)

I think he doesn’t mind if you have one nor does he mind if you don’t. He doesn’t necessarily have a fondness for children (especially raising them as his own), so the choice of having a family falls on your shoulders. For him he’ll be fine as long as he has you and his friends in the Agency. But if you do want to start a family, just one child will do for him. He’ll also love them with all his heart since he still carries the good memories of his biological parents with him.

C - Cuddle (Do they like to cuddle? How do they like to cuddle most?)

Oh he absolutely loves cuddles. He’d want them as often as possible. And I personally think he prefers being the little spoon, especially when you’re cuddling in bed.

D - Date (Ideal date?)

Doing random things. Nah just kidding he likes taking you to wherever’s fun! but not tiring lol A part of him absolutely loves going to the amusement park, but another part is perfectly content with just lounging about at home while playing some video games.

E - Energetic (How energetic are they?)

Very. Very, very energetic. He’s only really behaved when he’s preoccupied with something like solving a difficult case or playing games. In the relationship that would mean a lot of pestering from him (affectionately) and several spontaneous activities.

F - Fight (How are they in a fight?)

It’s like he’s literally deflated. He hates being on bad terms with you, but whether or not he’s in the right he will not yield. You’ll have to make the first move unless you are even more hard-headed and can keep up the cold shoulder for longer. In that case, he’ll give in and apologize to you (although it will be very quick lol).

G - Gifts (How do they feel about gifts? How do they give them?)

OH he definitely loves receiving gifts, especially things like sweets or games. He has the tastes of a 7 year old. As for giving, he already knows what things you like and is lowkey kind of tsundere about it so he gives them nonchalantly. As in “here’s the thing you were talking about” or sometimes he doesn’t say anything. He just... slides them to you.

H - Honesty (How honest are they? Do they keep secrets?)

Generally speaking he’ll be honest with you, even brutally so. Of course there are certain things involving the Agency that he cannot share with you easily.

I - Injury (How do they react if you get injured?)

He’s not that great at treating people so he gets concerned quite quickly (but usually he doesn’t show it, he just switches to serious mode). But he’ll be majorly mad if it’s because you went ahead with doing something he specifically said you shouldn’t do (or anything reckless for that matter). Things in the ADA are dangerous whether or not you work there, and he’s doing his absolute best to convince you to stay away from fights or other physical things you cannot handle.

J - Jealousy (Are they the jealous type? How do they deal with it?)

Ranpo doesn’t get jealous easily especially when he knows you only have platonic feelings at best for that other person. But if he notices you enjoying a stranger’s company and little compliments a little bit too much, he’ll step in (quite rudely) and bluntly tell them you’re already taken OR he’ll embarrass them (indirectly or directly, depends on how mad he is).

K - Kiss (Their favorite way to kiss you?)

Quick, fleeting, and teasing kisses on the cheek or on your lips. Of course he likes deeper and longer kisses too, but those only come when the mood is appropriate.

L - Love Confession (How did they confess their love?)

80% chance you’ll be the one to confess first and he just responds to your feelings. But if for some reason you just won’t budge even when it’s clear that you like him, he’ll take matters into his own hands.

He’ll either wait for everyone to leave the agency or take you out casually in the guise that you need to accompany him for a mission or something similar. Point is he wants to get you alone. Then he’ll confront you, ask you what the heck is taking you so long to confess properly, complain to you that he’s not patient, bla bla bla, teases you, and finally asks you if you actually want to date him. To which of course, you say yes.

M - Mean (What are they like when they’re mean? Is it common?)

Well, he’s mean all the time HAHA but there’s affectionate mean and “f off” mean. It all depends on his mood. Even if you’re more on the sensitive side, he can’t help but tease you a bit every now and then.

N - Nicknames (Do they have nicknames for you? What are their favorites for them?)

They’ll definitely be variations of your preferred name. Perhaps he’ll take the first few syllables and spice them up to make them sound “cute”, then add -chan or -chi at the end.

O - Open (How long did it take for them to open up to you?)

I think he’ll open up quite quickly except for those things that he wants no one to know at all. Of course eventually he’ll give in and confide in you since you’re his lover, and he wants to at least let you know more about him than most of his friends/coworkers do as soon as possible.

P - Proposal (How would they propose? Would they propose at all?)

This is similar to the confession one imo. He might propose properly, he might not. In fact I think he’ll do it quite casually (if you’re not the type who dislikes it, ofc. If it means a lot to you then he will actually put in the effort). Like,

You two are walking home when you pass a bridge; the sun is setting, the wind is blowing, and there are hardly any other people around. Your conversation may be about anything in the world when he suddenly just asks you:

“Do you want to get married?”

How you’ll respond is up to you, but you would know he’s serious when he opens his eyes and stares at you quite seriously. He just... stands there in earnest, waiting for your reply.

Q - Quiet (What are quiet moments like with them?)

He’s only quiet when he’s concentrating on something (ex. thinking about a case or playing a game), but when he’s with you he’s usually ONLY quiet when he’s snuggled close to you. The warmth and scent of your body just calms him so much that no words come out of him (or even you for that matter): the love and understanding is all there.

R - Rainy Day (What are they like in the rain?)

I think he generally likes the rain unless it interrupts plans for the day. If he feels like it he’ll go out with a raincoat and boots to bask in all its wet glory. Otherwise, he’ll just make himself cozy inside with warm snacks and drinks, and if possible with you snuggled close to him.

S - Sad (How do they handle their sadness? How do they react to yours?)

I see Ranpo as someone who is quiet about feeling down. If it’s a mixture of anger, annoyance, and sadness, then he’ll be a bit more vocal. Otherwise he silently eats it away and hugs you tighter and longer.

If it were you who were sad, he’ll do his best to cheer you up. He’ll give you the food you like and watch the shows you love with you, etc. He’ll also tell you things he likes about you and other kind words more often. It’s not that he doesn’t have advice nor does he want to help you deal with the source of your sadness, but he believes that if you do want help you’ll open up to him on your own.

T - Time (How long did it take for you to get together?)

It’ll take sometime, but not a lot. Once Ranpo knows that both of you want to be (and can be) in a relationship he will make it happen without delay.

U - Unique (What’s an interesting thing about them that not a lot of people know about?)

He’s actually more sensitive that he lets on. When people talk shit about him, he’ll brush it off and have some witty comeback or pretend not to notice, but when he’s alone he’ll think about it a lot. He might even grumble or complain to you about it.

V - Value (What are some of the things they value most in life? value most about you?)

I think he values honesty the most. Yes, he can see right through people, but that is exactly why it hurts more if someone he cares about lies to him. He appreciates it more if someone simply says they don’t want to or are not ready to talk about it rather than lying to him. Trust is built on honesty, and in a world full of deceit and betrayal it’s a precious rarity to have someone simply be sincere. That’s no different (or perhaps even more exemplified) when it comes to you.

W - Wildcard (random fluff headcanon)

VERY random but:

Whenever you put your hand out (palm open) for whatever reason, he’ll just put his chin on it and smile widely. It’s very cute.

X - XO (Are they affectionate with hugs and kisses? If not, are they in other ways?)

Oh yes he absolutely loves receiving them (but usually only in private). If he’s the one to initiate, although they’re very common they’re very short. He’s a tease like that lol. I also see him as the type to ask you to do something trivial for him just because he’s lazy and have a kiss or something as your “motivation.” (It sometimes works the other way too)

Y - Yearn (How do they deal with yearning?)

Let’s say he has a mission in a different prefecture and needs to stay there for a few days.

He will call you everyday if he can. But if for some reason he can’t, he’ll complain about anything and everything (except about missing you) to his companion. Yes, he’ll bring out his annoying side to the 100th degree like a child throwing a tantrum on a smaller scale but for a longer time. The only thing that can appease him are good snacks. (This applies whether or not you’re dating already lol)

Z - Zen (What makes them calm?)

If Fukuzawa asks him to be calm, he might become calm lol. But generally speaking as long as there’s nothing that could potentially upset him (whatever it may be), then he’ll be relatively calm. Then again he gets upset over the most mundane things (but mostly just for show) so good luck with that.

[lipstickstainz]

true lies - s. r. (1/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: Spencer and you have your first encounter, after you left him a year ago. Spoiler: it doesn’t go well. 

Warnings: angst, secrets, swearing I think, typical criminal minds stuff

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: tadaaaaa. it’s finally here! my first series! tell me if you liked it! love you! gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

The first thing you notice is the complete silence that takes over the room. The last time you had been here, it had been crowded and so noisy that you could hardly understand your own words. People had been everywhere, talking or exchanging theories, but your gaze was fixed on the desk overflowing with books. Now there are only files, carefully sorted and stacked on top of each other.The office is empty, no agents, no witnesses.  No one. You take a deep breath.

It's been some time since you've been here. Almost a year, but everything in this building is all too familiar to you. The coffee maker just waiting to be used in the kitchen. The law books gathering dust on a shelf. It feels like you've never been away.

"Y/N," a woman's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You have to tear your gaze away from the desk in front of you, and your eyes find a tired, yet incredibly good-looking Emily Prentiss standing outside her office door, smiling at you like you just saw each other yesterday.

"It's good to see you," you say, and she wraps you in her arms after she closes the office door behind you. It feels good to finally have her by your side again; after all, you had been best friends before you left. You hug her one last time before carefully pulling away from her and sitting down in the chair in front of her desk.

"It's good to see you, too," she replies, dropping into her chair. She places her hands on the desk and interlaces her fingers. "Of course, I'd love to know how you've been this past year, but I'm afraid that will have to wait." She opens a drawer to her right and reaches for a file-your personnel file, you realize-and lays it open in front of her. "I've been informed that my request has been approved and you'll be rejoining our team," she says, smiling briefly at you. "It took a favor, but you're well worth it to me."

Your stomach tightens at the thought of Emily owing someone. You swallow the sour feeling spreading down your throat and nod at her. "Thank you, Emily."

She tilts her head and her gaze slides from your face to your kneading hands. "You're not happy with this, it seems. What's wrong?" Emily doesn't need to profile you to know something is bothering you. She knows you too well to miss the change in your behavior.

"I don't know if this is a good idea," you confess.

"And why is that?" asks Emily, but she already knows the answer. She knows what happened a year ago, and she certainly knows more than you do, because she had been here for the last year, after all. Before you can answer her, the door opens and a colorful person comes in.

"Good morning, my beautiful and strong boss," the one and only Penelope Garcia speaks without looking up from her iPad. "We have a new case that I would like to discuss with you before the whole team arrives. It's about -" When Emily doesn't answer her, she looks up and her gaze immediately lingers on you. You're surprised she doesn't drop the tablet on the floor as she rushes toward you to yank you out of the chair and into her arms. "Y/N! What a relief for my tired brain to see your beautiful face! Am I dreaming?" She breaks away from you and gives Emily a look. "Please tell me I'm not dreaming. I couldn't take it."

A smile spreads across Emily's face. "You're not dreaming, Pen. Y/N is actually back."

"Oh, how wonderful!" she squeals, pushing her glasses back up with her index finger. While she says something else to Emily, you look at her. She really hasn't changed in the last year. She's still the colorful bird of the BAU, and that's a good thing.

You notice yourself starting to smile, but then she utters the thing that erases the smile from your lips. "How's Reid doing? Have you guys talked yet?"

Emily makes a hand gesture for Penelope to drop the subject, but your expression has instantly changed when she said his name. It stabs you in the heart and cold shivers run down your spine, and only with difficulty can you suppress the tremors that want to overtake your body.

"I'm afraid the team is already here," Emily interrupts the silence and casts a glance out the window into the open-plan office. Even if you want to follow her gaze, you don't dare and your body is still in rigidity. She gets up from her chair and walks towards the door, but before she opens it, she turns to you once more. "If you need more time, that's fine. Take all the time you need. But your place is here with us, Y/N. We're your family." And with that, she and Penelope leave the office.

She's right. The BAU is your family - even if you hadn't seen or spoken to any of the family members in the last year - and walking out now wouldn't change the situation. The circumstances under which you left - had to leave - were anything but normal, and you hope that your decisions would be met with understanding, but you can't count on that. So you tighten your shoulders, push through your back, and follow them into the conference room. Your heart beats up to your neck and your hands sweat as you stop on the doorstep.

Your gaze fixes on the youngest team member, except for you. His brown curls are a little shorter than they were a year ago, and it doesn't take you ten seconds to notice that it's not the Spencer Reid you know sitting at the table. The year had changed him. Your absence had changed him.

Rossi is the first to notice you, which is because he glances over his shoulder. "Who do we have here?" he asks playfully, before rising from his chair and taking you in his arms. But you're only peripherally aware of that. Your concentration is on Spencer, who stares at you unblinkingly before jumping up and storming out of the room. JJ, sitting next to him, reaches for him, but he wriggles out of her grip and he runs past you so fast that it's easy to call it an escape. JJ smiles weakly at you before putting her hand on your arm. She doesn't need to say anything, her look tells you that she's glad you're back, but you're also aware that she wants to take care of Spencer, so you nod at her and wordlessly she follows the genius of the team.

The rest greet you with great joy, Rossi presses a kiss on your cheek and Alvez puts his arm around your shoulders, but you look out the window and see Spencer and JJ talking. His face is red and even though you can't hear his words or read his lips, you know exactly what it's about. The blonde tries to calm him down, wanting to put her hands on his shoulders to make him stop shaking, but he avoids her and takes a step back. The gesture is enough, as she drops her arms and doesn't follow him either when Spencer leaves the bullpen. You know he won't be back in the next few minutes.

Garcia tells you about the case and you try to focus on her words as best you can, but again and again your mind wanders to Spencer. His reaction to your return is understandable and you don't judge him for it. You have no right to do so; after all, you are responsible for his condition. You hope that soon there would be a quiet moment when you could talk about the past, but you are not optimistic. He pushed JJ away from him a few minutes ago, which is definitely not a good sign. You try to push the thoughts of him to the back of your mind; after all, there's a case to solve, and although the current situation isn't ideal, you're looking forward to it. It's been a long time since you've worked properly.

"All right," Emily says, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Wheels up in thirty."

"Hey," JJ addresses you as you freshen up in the ladies' room. You glance at her in the mirror and she smiles at you. "Are you okay?" You both know this question is purely rhetorical. She is, after all, Spencer's best friend. Aside from the two of you, she probably knows best what's been going on, but still not everything.

You turn around and lean against the edge of the sink. "I'm trying to get used to everything," you reply, pursing your lips into a thin line. "It's changed quite a bit while I was gone."

She nods. "Yeah, it did." She takes another step toward you. "Look, you have to give him some time, all right? This year hasn't been very nice to him. I hope you can understand that." She sounds sincere and, above all, concerned, which is why you don't resent her little speech. Of course, you're already aware of all this, but hearing it from her confirms your suspicions.

You are to blame for Spencer's condition. And there's no way you can straighten things out anytime soon.

Spencer rejoins the team only on the plane, but he avoids your proximity or your glances at all costs. He takes the seat next to Alvez, which is almost at the other end of the plane, and he is completely silent. The others, of course, notice the tension that has spread through the group since your arrival, but they all have the decency not to bring it up. But by their manner they let you know that they don't stand between you. You had been gone a long time, and they know halfway what had been going on, but they didn't take sides, and for that you are infinitely grateful.

"Alvez, JJ, Simmons. You guys talk to the families. Find out if the victims share any common traits that might connect them," Emily says, dividing the team into focus groups as usual. She glances around the group. "Rossi, Reid, Y/L/N, you go to the coroner's office while -"

"No." It's the first word Spencer has uttered since you boarded the plane. You expected his voice to be weak or to reveal any other signs of uncertainty, but the word came from his lips in a firm tone, leaving no room for discussion. Spencer looks up from the paper file and before he looks at Emily, his gaze brushes yours and at the coldness in his eyes, your blood freezes in your veins.

"All right," Emily says without elaborating. "Alvez, you switch places with Reid. Tara and I will go to the local police department and talk to the detectives. Let's catch the killer."

To say the mood on the plane hit rock bottom would be an understatement.

Forensics helps you out a bit. The victims were drugged before they died, causing hallucinations, which is probably why they self-inflicted injuries. Also, both victims have the same cut wounds in the same place. Definitely not a coincidence. Alvez has Garcia dig up some information on the way to the police station, which is why you could briefly organize your thoughts, but Rossi tells you about a new dish he'd like to cook for you sometime, and you'd been gone too long to block out your work dad. Besides, your mind would only be on Spencer and that's not moving you forward either.

"According to the relatives, none of the victims were unpopular, loners, or even depressed," JJ begins as the team gathers. You take a seat in the chair facing Spencer. When he notices, he gets up and sits somewhere else. The main thing is to get out of your sight. You sigh imperceptibly, but Luke turns in your direction and raises an eyebrow. You shake your head.

It hurts that Spencer doesn't want to be near you. In fact, it almost breaks your heart, but you can get used to that. He should go ahead and hate you. You could handle that.

The day flies by and when the team checks into the hotel in the evening, Spencer grabs one of the keys and leaves without another word. Sadly, you watch him go and Emily puts a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. Eventually, it would get better. Later on, you sit on the bed with her and tell her about the year you've been away, the people you've met, things you've experienced, but each anecdote brings you back to the one topic that makes your heart skip a beat.

"You have to tell him, Y/N," Emily suddenly says seriously, and you shake your head.

"No." It sounds almost as harsh as Spencer on the plane, but there's still some pain hovering in the air with you. "I'm not going to tell him, Emily."

"He thinks you left him because he went to prison. In his mind, you basically left him at the altar," she tries to change your mind, but to no avail. She would not succeed. You had sworn to yourself that this matter would remain a secret, something you would both take to your graves. And you have no intention of breaking that vow. "You were engaged, for gods sake" Emily's tone sharpens. "Don't you think he deserves the truth?"

"I'm not going to tell him. It's for the best."

Emily looks at you incredulously, but also knows she can't change your mind. "Best for whom?"

That night, you lie awake, tossing from side to side but unable to find sleep. You don't feel guilty about what happened. You don't question your decisions you did back then. It was the right thing to do. It bothers you because of Spencer, because of his reaction to your return, because of his hostility. JJ had asked for your understanding and you would do anything to mend fences, but you're not sure that's Spencer's intention either.

After two hours, you get up and slip into sweatpants and a sweater before leaving your room. As if of their own accord, your feet carry you down the hallway, to a destination you shouldn't be going to. As you turn into the hallway where Spencer's room is, you stop, rooted to the spot.

JJ is standing on the doorstep to his room, saying something to him before he leans down and pulls her tightly into his arms. His hair is messy, and even from this distance you can tell Spencer is leaning on JJ with all his weight. You have to swallow. How much you want a hug from him.

JJ is the first to disengage, saying goodbye to him and disappearing in the opposite direction, while Spencer stops and watches her go. There is a small smile on his face and he looks more relaxed than he did earlier in the day. As he turns to go back to his room, his gaze lingers on you. The smile disappears and his body is tense to the breaking point.

Time seems to stand still. It feels like an eternity that you stare at each other without speaking a word, but there is so much coldness in Spencer's eyes, so much pain, that you can hardly stand it and want to look away. But you're transfixed. Your hand raises of its own accord, as if in greeting, and your mouth opens, but before you can say anything, Spencer takes a step back and slams the door behind him. Only then do you realize that you've been holding your breath.

next part

- tags - 

@obsssedwithjustaboutanything // @ashwarren32 // @slytherinbth // @rexorangecouny // @candlemouse // @cloudybau

[anystalker707]

Just here because of you

Pairing: Gerard x Reader Word count: ~ 2 000 Genre: Angst / Comfort Summary: (Y/n) is never enough to their parents, who want their kid to give up on becoming a musician, but Gerard knows his partner is better than that.

Requested by anon [Hi could you do a Gerard x f!reader where she's crying because she feels like she's not enough to her parents(...)]

A soft sigh escapes my lips as I see the familiar name on the screen. The steam from the sigh quickly dissipates into the sharp night air, the very same that pierces through the bits of exposed skin that my shirt can’t cover and that the fingerless gloves don’t reach, but the latter still makes itself useful as I tap onto the screen of my phone—or at least cogitate to, twisting my mouth as I read the familiar contact name across the screen.

Reading my mother’s contact name across the screen should bring me some comfort, the same it does to the others when they grin and answer the calls with excited greetings, talking with their loved ones after being away from home for so long, busy for most of the time. Instead, a weight sinks down on my stomach like it always does, having my hands trembling a little, not from the cold.

“Hey, guys! Imma answer this real quick!” I point to my phone, receiving a few nods in response, and head off to the side of the hotel’s building to the point the guys’ chattering is muffled in the background. With my eyes closed, I exhale softly and finally press down on the screen. “Hey, mom! How are you?”

“(Y/n), sweetheart,” she says in a soft tone. Maybe it’ll be different this time. “I’m doing fine! Your father and I miss you a lot!”

“Same, I miss you—”

“We were wondering when you’re coming home again.”

My back meets the cold brick wall behind me as I squint at the woods behind the fence of the parking lot. We’re in January, it’ll end in April... “In about three months, mom. You know that.”

“Yes, but...” Mom exhales.

“We were hoping you would come home earlier,” Dad finally makes his presence known and I can almost see the two side by side as the phone rests on the counter, Mom’s eyebrows furrowed as Dad’s lips are pressed together in a tight line. Maybe he’s looking down at the phone with his arms crossed over the table like he did when I walked into the kitchen while Mom was preparing lunch, and told them my band had finally gotten the opportunity of going on another tour, a bigger one this time. “Y’know, with that shitty van of yours—”

“It’s been working quite well,” I hum, glancing at the van, seeing some of the guys are still there. “And we have backup plans in case something happens to it, don’t worry.” Which is half a lie, but hey, we all always solve almost every situation. Or Brian does. Whatever. “And we’re also good regarding money! We could even stay at a hotel this month!” Certain pride and excitement swells in my chest at the thought we won’t wake up as sore as we actually do and have access to an actual bathroom.

“This month?” Mom scoffs. “(Y/n), this is terrible!”

“But look,” I breathe, adjusting my phone against my ear, “we played the biggest concert so far! It was at a venue, Mom, and there were like, over five hundred people, can you believe it?”

“...Five hundred?” Dad hums with a fake enthusiasm, almost doubtful, and clicks his tongue—he’s probably pinching the bridge of his nose—while Mom mutters something in the background.

“(Y/n), you know how the life of a musician tends to be quite difficult,” Mom’s voice trembles a little, tight in her chest, but not as if she were trying to hold herself back from crying, but actually holding herself back from saying more than she is actually supposed to. Like always. “And we don’t want you to go through these difficult moments... You have a comfortable house, a nice bed, that job at Jack’s waiting for you. You don’t need to sleep crumpled up in a van or at bad motels. What are people going to think of you? Of all the years we invested into your studies just for you to try to be a musician?”

It’s hard to define what’s worse; if it’s the way she sounds genuinely hurt or how they do this whereas knowing what this whole pursuit means to me. If the band wasn’t signed with a label and having bigger concerts each time, then maybe I would agree with them, but we have been to a lot of new places lately, with more and more people. Seeing a hand-made shirt of our band made me genuinely want to cry last week—I had no idea we are known all the way across the country.

“I...” I sigh, rubbing my face with my free hand, trying to ignore the lump in my throat. “Thank you so much for caring, I understand your worry, but it’s not just about it. I’m even getting a new guitar soon! We could get new amps, so many new stuff, I’m so—”

“(Y/n), you’re not seeing the big picture, you don’t know—”

“Dad!”

“—you don’t know whether all that money, and time is worth investing in or not! The risk is not worth it! You’re just a garage band!” He almost shouts, then there’s a muffled sound, probably his hand meeting the surface of the counter.

“It’s not like this...” The words struggle a little to escape my throat this time, higher-pitched than I wished them to be. Deplorable. “W-We... We even opened for Nine Inch Nails the other week!”

“And what good is that band, (y/n)?” Mom scoffs. “Can’t you see how you’re wasting—”

The sound of the call coming to an end replaces my mother’s voice before I quickly turn off my phone and shove it inside my pocket, trying to get my hands away from it like it were burning. My lungs complain to me to let out a breath I didn’t know to be holding until now, and along with the soft exhale a few tears escape my eyes, rolling down my cheeks, never drawing any sob or anything from my lungs, only making the lump in my throat more uncomfortable.

Couldn’t they support me just a little? They know how hard I’ve been trying ever since high-school.

The skin around my eyes burns lightly with how the rough fabric of the gloves comes in contact with the sensitive skin as I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, trying to dry away the tears and just forget about everything for a single second, only hearing my heartbeat on the back of my head, and noticing how it doesn’t feel so cold anymore, almost too hot. Something in me always makes me want to hate this band after talks like this, to throw everything in the air and go back home to live the little perfect life my parents want me to, but it’s not that easy—it never was.

I sniffle, wiping my nose clean with the back of my hand, before I can take a deep breath of the cold air, never thinking it’d actually be pleasing. The idea of going to bed sounds so fucking good at the moment. I’ll instead shower in the morning—when it’ll be hopefully warmer—and just get my head off everything for now.

Only Brian is still messing with something on the driver seat when I grab my backpack from the middle ones and finally head to the hotel too, trying to ignore the receptionist’s inquiring gazes while they get my key, and immediately rush upstairs.

“You were fast.” Gerard has his back turned to me, shirtless and sitting on the bed as he probably messes with his bag or something. I take in a deep breath and only hum, but he still whips his head around at the same moment and furrows his eyebrows once his eyes meet mine. “They just can’t give you a break, huh?” I nod, feeling more of the hot, stingy tears fill my eyes. He presses his lips together, reaching an arm up. “C’mere.”

I immediately drop my bag to the ground, struggling a little to kick my shoes off on my way to the bed so I can just throw myself at him. “I hate it,” I breathe as I bury my face in the crook of his neck, feeling the sobs escape my lips while I hug him, but it’s impossible to bring him close enough.

“‘M so sorry about it, love,” Gerard says softly. He presses a kiss to my shoulder, his hand running up and down my back rather soothingly, but this feeling still buzzes under my skin, prickling like fire and making me want to do something, break something. “But we’re all here for you, I am here for you,” he cuts through my thoughts again. “And you’re the most talented and amazing person we could’ve found to complete the band, y’know? You fucking shred, you’re absolutely the best.”

“Thank you,” I mumble, but I doubt it sounds like something coherent or other than just muffled mumbles against his bare skin.

“The band wouldn’t be the same without you.” Gerard nuzzles me softly as he pulls me closer to him, the bed creaking a little with how we move lightly. “We wouldn’t have come so far if it weren’t because of you as well. I’m so fucking proud of you.” He pulls away, just enough to cup my face and press kisses to my cheeks, sometimes catching tears with his thumbs.

Gerard’s hands are warm under mine—a comfortable warm, not warm like the feeling buzzing under my skin, not like my phone or my gloves felt—and I lean into his touch, allowing myself to take in slow and shaky breaths until the tears aren’t so frequent anymore.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” I say quietly, afraid my voice will crack, no matter how many times I’ve cried in front of him.

“And I’m lucky to have you.” A smile tugs on Gerard’s lips as he looks at me through half-lidded eyes in a way that never fails in making my heart flutter. He leans in and presses his lips to mine, humming as I kiss back before he tilts his head to the side a little. “Do you want to take a shower?”

“I’m too tired right now.” I hesitantly let go of his hands to remove my gloves, tossing them away. “Can we just cuddle?”

“Of course.” He pecks my lips and moves to stand up for a moment, getting rid of his jeans, returning to bed only in his black boxers after the lights are turned out, while I also strip down to my underwear, sighing softly—it felt like the clothes were getting too tight, too rough.

Something makes me afraid of looking away from Gerard, afraid he will disappear in thin air, so I face him, smiling in return once he does so, his features barely seen under the orange tone of the street lights that manage to slip through the blinds.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

“I love you.” I reach for his hand, squeezing it in mine.

“Y’know, Brian managed to fix us a tour in Europe.”

“Europe?” I gasp and sit up a little to see if he’s being serious—despite the grin on his face, he nods. “Oh, fuck!” I press closer to him with a grin, quickly filling my head with thoughts about it.

“Yeah, isn’t it amazing?” Gerard chuckles, but only the softness continues in his features as his hand rests on my hip, firmer. “Look, I mean it when I say we wouldn’t have gotten here without you, okay? And... it’s hard sometimes, but please don’t give up. We need you and it’s your dream. Everyone is together in this, no one is going down alone, okay?” He pauses. “I can’t do this without you, also. You’re... You’re everything to me, okay? No pressure, though, I don’t want you to think you’re tied to this because of me either, it’s just... I needed you to know it. You’re everything to me.”

My heart flutters a little as I smile, thinking about everything we’ve been through, from helping each other calm down from anxiety attacks to celebrating him getting admitted to SVA and when I managed to get us more instruments. I peck his lips, adjusting my position a little to rest my head on his chest. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

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