#i think it’s kind of genius how this show gets you with the gore and the shock factor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

plenty-lost-minds · 2 years

Text

drive me crazy

spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: smut, p in v, enemies to lovers, riding, semipublic, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it besties), pull out method, mentions of gore (talk of past case), word count: 3.1k

Spencer Reid knew just how to piss you off. He knew just what buttons to press to incite anger. After a year of built tension and feelings confessed in a small car in the middle of the night, it leads to other things.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

There are three things certain after an official year of working in the BAU. One, you were practically built for the job. Two, the coffee machine in the office was terrible.

Three, you hated Spencer Reid.

The boy genius had done many things over the year to justify this hatred. Whether it was refusing to accept the fact you were clearly right about something, getting coffee for everyone in the office except you, or constantly striving to prove himself better then you, he always found a way to make your skin crawl.

You had joined the team along with Emily Prentiss, Agent Hotchner having had already approved our entry to replace Elle Greenaway when Emily Prentiss was also pushed into the team. After some adjustments, the team had settled with seven members.

Quickly after joining, Spencer had something against you. Despite your attempts at kindness, he always found a way to dig into your scalp and pluck any patience you had in you.

The first case you’d worked with the team had been a hard one.

Eight 13 year old girls in Florida had been stabbed and dumped on the side of different highways. They had laceration marks on their wrists and ankles, showing that they’d been kept tied somewhere. The unsub would keep their victims for three days. The part that had thrown everyone off was the fact that every victim was found with their hair cut off and were placed in pajamas post mortem.

At first, the initial profile pointed to a preferential offender but you’d suggested the team keep their minds open because something about the profile felt off to you.

After the discovery of more evidence, you’d concluded and presented to the team the the unsub was in fact a women and the profile was incorrect.

Spencer was quickly at your throat.

He’d argued that the violent M.O. did not in anyway point to a woman and the case was clearly and simply just a hyper specific offender.

Due to Spencers resistance, the team subtly sided with him, continuing to proceed searching for a man.

When the team had unknowingly talked to the unsub in order to find the man who was the current suspect, it led to her almost killing the kid she was currently holding, and the rest of the team decided to take a look at your perspective.

That had led to the arrest of the true unsub. After that, the team quickly trusted your input. Well, everyone but Spencer.

Now, at a restaurant, the entire team was celebrating yours and Emilys year BAU anniversaries. After Derek and Penelope dragged Spencer to the dinner, it was sure to be an interesting night.

“You know kid, you’ve sure made a presence on this team, even after just a year.” Gideon told her.

“You think? Sometimes it feels like there’s never anything i could do to feel like im a part of it.” You responded.

“You mean Spencer?” He he said, more like an accusation than a question.

You smiled at him, implicating his correctness to him. He laughed slightly and looked across the long table at the boy they spoke of. He sat in between Derek and Penelope, struggling with a pair of chopsticks.

“He’s intimidated by you.” Gideon said.

You shook your head, denying his allegation. “No, i think he just hates me.”

“No. His behavior around you is strange. You say he hates you but he subconsciously looks for you. When he’s next to you, he leans into you just enough to not be hate. You intimidate him and yet he looks up to you.”

You barked out in laughter, stifling enough to not draw attention. “Im sorry Gideon but that ridiculous. He’s a living search engine. He’s not intimidated by me.”

“Why do you say that. Your not any less capable then him. Sure you don’t have an eidetic memory and all but out of all of us, on paper you’re right next to him when it comes to education and intelligence. You’ve done plenty enough in your career for him to be intimidated by you.” Gideon said nonchalantly, catching you off guard.

You paused, your grip on your fork steady and your eye pasted onto your plate. Gideon turned to talk to Hotch who sat on his other side.

As you ate your food, he hairs on the back of your neck stood. Your eyes flickered from your plate and up, scanning the table to see whose eyes were caught on you.

You huffed a breath of air from your nose when your eyes met the devil you spoke of.

His eys didn’t flicker or waver from yours. His face was unreadable and slightly hostile. You found his gaze to be a challenge, you the opponent.

You settled your fork besides your half eaten plate and leaned back against your seat. You crossed your hands over your chest defensively, shielding from his threatening eyes.

What is he thinking, you asked yourself.

Suddenly, he broke the eye contact and turned to the tipsy Penelope besides him and chatted away like nothing just happened.

From then on, the dinner was simple and happy. After a few drinks and painfully long good byes, everyone went their separate ways.

As you stood outside in the cool fall night, your nose and cheeks pinked with the bitting chill of the air. You tightly wrapped your thick coat around your body, ducking your head to attempt to avoid the cold.

As walked to your car you thought about the past year. About the things you’d seen and felt in the past year at the famous BAU. The horrors your eyes had witnessed were beyond you’d imagined. This job was not made for the sensitive. The images haunted you in you sleep and it never left your mind.

But, the job wasn’t all bad. You’d met your best friend, Emily after the two of you joined together, sticking to one another as the newbies. You’d helped families and caught the monsters that lurked our crowds. But sometimes, it seemed like it was never going to end.

When you reached your car and sat down, you put your key into the ignition and turned.

The depressing whine of the engine made your heart drop. You tried over, and over, and over again. In sterling and removing the key over and over.

Fuck Fuck Fuck you thought. In a burst of anger, you hit the steering wheel again and again, becoming desperate and irritable.

You snatched your puse from the passengers seat and stood out of the car, slamming the door slightly more aggressively than you intended. You leaned on the door and threw your head back and took a breath.

You were about a 30 minute drive from your house, it was late at night and your phone battery was lower than you would’ve liked.

“What did the car do to you?” A certain voice called out.

Oh not now, you thought.

“How long have you been standing there?” I asked, turning my head to look at the boy standing a few feet from me.

“I was walking to my car and i saw you beating the shit out of yours.” Spencer said, a snarky smile on his face.

“Wont turn on. Been meaning to go get a new one but I think with our job its impossible to find the time.” You said, not knowing why you felt the need to converse with him.

You sighed deeply and dug into your purse and dug out your phone. at this hour, there had to at least be one text available.

“Well, night Reid.” You said, beginning to walk past him. You heard him sigh as you passed. After you’d made it a few feet, he tuned and called for you, stopping you in your tracks.

“I cant in good conscious leave you here.” He said, looking everywhere but at you.

“And that means?” You pressed.

“And that means im offering you a ride. your place isn’t that far off of my way.”

You paused and looked at him. You weighed your options.

Any other person would say it wasn’t a choice. That it was obvious getting in a car with him is better than finding a taxi. But you’re not any other person. So you hesitated.

On one side, taking him up on his offer would mean less time in this cold, no money spent, and even though Spencer and you may not be the best of buddies, it was are with him. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, no matter how much it seemed like he wanted to.

“Fine.” You said quickly.

His eye seemed to widen, slightly surprised.

“What you think I was going to chose to stay out here?” you said sarcastically.

“I guess not.” He mumbled.

The walk to his car was silent and tense. Like there was a bubble surrounding the two that slowly leeched of any oxygen, depriving them from their breath.

Finally they reached the car and got in. You were almost scared to move, afraid even the slightest twitch would incite anger. Spencer turned on the car and quickly went off. In your peripheral vision, your could see Spencer slightly turn his head towards you, catching a look or two. You pretended to not notice and look straight ahead.

It was too quiet.

You earned forward to turn on the radio, the static of the radio station filling the car. You flipped through the stations until you landed on a soft pop station. The words of the song got lost in the air, the gentle flow of the music making the tension in you release slightly.

As you looked out the window, you hard the statin suddenly change. when you turn your head you see Spencer skipping through the stations.

“That was a good song.” You said in a matter of factory tone.

“No it isn’t.” He responded.

“Can you at least let the song finish?” She asked.

“No.” Was all he said.

You remained staring at him was an expression of utter disgust. He looked at you, his eye flickering between your expression and the road.

“What is your fucking issue with me?” You suddenly yelled, slightly louder than intended.

“I dont know what you’re talking about.” He responded.

You barked out in a humorless laughter. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

You sat staring at him, almost as if you were expecting him to actually answer that. Spencer felt heat bubble in his cheeks at the confrontation.

“Pull over.” You instructed firmly.

“What? No.” He snapped back.

“PULL OVER!” You yelled back.

Following your orders, the boy pulled into the closest parking spot on the road.

“Every single day from the second i joined the BAU you’ve acted like a fucking pretentious, rude son of bitch and i don’t fucking know why. I have never done anything to try to hurt you or direct malice. And yet you still treat me like shit. You are a grown man and you need to fucking resolve this or else-“

You were cut off by the last thing you thought you’d be cut off by.

His lips.

They were on yours.

You sat frozen at his extremely unexpected response.

He backed away, eyes soft and almost guilty. Fear was etched in his face, especially as he looked at your utterly shocked face.

Stuttering to get any words out, your hands gravitated to the car door,searching for a handle.

“Y/n-“ Spencer pleaded, seeing your body was prepared to flee.

When your hand found the handle, there wasn’t a second of hesitation to swing the door open, you almost falling out with it.

You stepped out and stood on the empty pavement. The chill of the air hit you, the shock paired with a freeze.

“Y/n.” Spencer called as he got out of the car and walked around it to you.

“Y/n im so sorry i don’t k-“

“Is that why you’ve been rude to me? Some little schoolboy strategy of getting the girl?” She interrupted. “Cause you have some fucking crush on me?”

“Its not a crush, y/n. Its not some stupid crush. I- I cant handle this y/n. Attaching onto somebody. From the moment i met you, you were smart, and kind, and beautiful and i got scared to attach. It doesn’t excuse how terrible I’ve treated you and im so sorry for that. And the way i just handled this situation wasn’t my best moment.” He explained, holding her elbows the entire time.

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to laugh at the sheer stupidity of his reason but you wanted to keep yelling at him for his harmful manner. But most of all, you wanted to kiss him.

Oh how the boy knew to press all your nerves, but sometimes, they were the wrong nerves.

There was no denying, even the rest of the team noticed the carnal tension between the two. The arguing voices were more like pleads of the desperate.

Yes, his sharp stabs at your ego surely ignited rage, but, when the rage is coming from a too slick smirking pretty boy towering over you, the rage sometimes evolved to something else.

So, you decided to take a leap and listen to your head. Now, your head was telling you to take the puppy-eyed boy in front of you and teach him just how terrible he was.

Gripping onto his face with both hands, you took the lunge and caught his lips to yours.

To your surprise, he returned it with the same passion and confidence.

Now standing below the dim streetlight, the only warmth between two bodies filled with unresolved issue, everything felt ten times stronger.

Spencers hands found their way over your shoulders, on your back, wandering fingers falling to you hips, squeezing just enough to pull a whimper from your lips.

The noise flipped a switch on the all to ready Spencer. He pushed his hips onto you, leaning you onto the car.

“We’re closer to my house.” You said in between desperate breaths.

“Not close enough.” He said before dipping down and opening the car door behind you and with on hand on your lower back, bringing you forward.

Catching what he was insinuating, you turned and bent over to lean the chair all the way back. While you did, you pressed your backside onto Spencers crotch, using your position as an advantage to tease. If you weren’t going insane, you could swear you heard him whine.

Expecting you to lay inside first so he could be on top, he was surprised when you grabbed his shirt and pushed him in first. But, he wasn’t about to question you.

When he laid down, he stayed on his elbows looking at you with a smile of excitement. You looked at him as you undid you took off your coat, tossing it over him onto the drivers seat.

You ducked in the car, straddling his hips, one knee on each side. You shut the door and turned down the heater.

“Are you ok. It kind of confined in here.” He said, his hands going to the sides of your thighs.

“Don’t worry about me pretty boy.” You said, leaning down and kissing him.

His hands slid up from your thighs and under your dress, both hands flat on your ass.

You began to slightly grid your hips right over the imminent bulge tenting on his pants. With a tilt of your hips, you grinded over your clit.

You moaned into his mouth, which he replied with his own.

He whimpered at the pressure your movements had on his dick. You repeated the actions, slowing down and moving painfully slow.

“Fuck y/n, please.” He mumbled into your lips.

You slowed your hips even more, almost halting. Spencer tried to move his hips, but your hands pressing down on his pelvic area revenged him.

“God.” He groaned, his head pressing down into the seat.

“Does it hurt?” You asked.

“Y-yes.” He sputtered.

“Good.” You responded.

You sat back up straighter and brought your hands to the button of his pants, undoing them and lifting your self enough to push them down. His boxers had a wet stain of his precum on the grey fabric.

“Y/n please.” He begged and you palmed him over the boxers.

“I like it when you beg.” You laughed lightly.

You pressed down slightly harder on his boner, earning a whimper.

Your own eagerness began to make it difficult to continue teasing. You pulled down his boxers, his hard dick springing out.

You stroked him a few times as you positioned yourself.

“What do you want baby.” You purred, holding yourself above him.

“You.” He groaned, hands flying to your waist, encouraging you to lower on him.

You followed his pleads. You moved your panties to the side and sunk into him, moaning out and supporting yourself with one hand on his chest and another on the window.

A string of murmurs spilled out of his mouth as you lowered, putting a smile on your face. He returned you with one of his own, shaking his head to get hair out of his face.

You began to move, bouncing on his cock. Moans and whimpers filled the car, your movements making him hit your sweet spot.

“Just like that.” He moaned, his hands remaining on your hips.

You slightly leaned forward to avoid hitting your head on the roof of the car. The lean helped him go deeper, making you call out.

“Spencer.” You panted in between kisses. “Im close.” You said, acknowledging the knot forming in your lower abdominal.

“Me too.” He whimpered. One of his hands dragged down from your hip down to your etching core. His thumb found your clit immediately, tracing circles. The stimulation brought you over the edge. Your movements became inconsistent and slowed.

Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, sprouting from below your stomach.

“Im gonna-“ Spencer muttered, moving your hips off of him. You followed his directions and flopped onto the drivers seat quickly. Right when you came off of him, he finished with a twitch of his body, his cum pooling onto the part of is stomach that was revealed by his lifted shirt.

You watched him there, laying and panting, his eyes hooded and his shirt messy. The image brought a smirk to your face. He turned his head towards you.

“What?” He asked, noticing your amusement.

“Nothing. Just you look very… Amicable right now.”

You leaned over the center console and kissed up his neck. When you reached his ear, you bit it gently.

“My place is less than five minutes from here.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #derek morgan #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #cm smut #aaron hotchner smut

1K notes · View notes

spidergutz-writes · 1 year

Note

Dear genius;; do you perhaps have more headcanons for Otis with Baby's best friend? Just anything!! ;;w;

-meadow! My dear friend hello again :D! I truly hope you enjoy these (givin me my favorite tropes, i see what your doin 😁)

anyways, I hope you enjoy these!! —

So. Much. FLIRTING.

and not just regular flirting, though. Oh No no no.

what? You thought OTIS could flirt normally? No. That man’s shoving a live human heart in your face, while telling you how nice and soft your precious skin looks.

lemmie tell you this, if your baby’s best friend, you’ve either been with her from the beginning, or your just a morbid person and they kept you around for that.

and if you’ve been with her from the beginning? You can at least tolerate morbid stuff.

so there’s a lot of…dark flirting.

example:

“I’d love to cut you up and make a masterpiece outta you, doll”

“I’d let you do it.”

definitely also makes you little gifts. Like, little portraits of you, figures made of bone or cartilage.

puts his hand on your shoulder a lot. Your his, and he needs others to know that. (you just don’t know it yet, and he probably doesn’t either)

otis is also a very blunt person, so he’s more than likely invited you to his bed more than once

”yknow sweetheart, my beds always open for you”

often uses you as his muse, blatantly telling you it’s because your hot/pretty as fuck.

you two probably have rant sessions too.Your mad about something, he’s mad about something, so you both just vent to eachother about it.

you laying on his bed, him pacing around. Your waiting for him to finish so you can console him, then go on with your own rant,

which you know he’d be there to listen to. After you listen to him ofc.

”can’t believe tiny almost let my muse escape! Do you know how long it took for me to get this detrimental wall of art block broken down? Fucking, forever!! If it wasn’t for me being there, just in time, that bitch would’ve ran away!”

so many late nights spent outside when neither of you can sleep, so you just talk.

talking about anything and everything, till eventually one of you falls asleep (typically you)

and by saying that, there’s been a few times where you woken up in Otis’s bed while he’s passed out on the very edge of the bed.

hes a sadistic, psychotic, homicidal maniac, but for some reason, you, baby’s best friend, the one person he’s NOT supposed to be kind, and all that gooey stuff with, makes him want to be nice to you.

doesn’t want to actually carve your face off

he wishes to keep it on your pretty/handsome face :((

lots of meaningless banter —

”your face is dumb”

”yeah? Well you have more wrinkles than my grandmother”

”oh really? Well- your probably not even a natural blond!”

*LE GASP*

HORROR MOVIE MARATHONS. y’all will stay up ALL night watching shitty old horror movies and criticizing it

saying how fake and un real it is

”the gore is so fake, I mean cmon!!”

“…idk, the gore is pretty good, but the acting is shit.”

“You think that’s real gore? Gimme a second sweetheart, LEMMIE go grab my muse. I’ll show you real gore!”

”OTIS NO WHAT ABOUT THE MOVI-“

yeah. You’ll have to clean up all the blood btw.

man is caked in layers of blood, and constantly smells of Pennys and nickels.

ITS SO LATE RN BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE THESE IVE POURED SO MANY HUMAN EMOTIONS INTO THIS-

#otis driftwood #otis driftwood x reader #otis firefly #house of 1000 corpses #house of 1000 corpses x reader #Ask #otis #driftwood #x reader #babys best friend

131 notes · View notes

spielcave · 4 months

Text

God of War Valhalla DLC (Aka, 'Kratos and Mimir go on a bro trip that ends up being Therapy')

Just wanted to start by saying thank whatever is out there for Santa Monica Studios, for their phenomenal work into giving Kratos some much needed development and exploring his complexity. I'll explore this game in subsequent posts and maybe any suggestions you're welcome to shoot my way.

Spoilers ahead!

I think it's a testament to how beloved the Norse games have been through the amount of cheering the second Kratos came on the screen during the reveal trailer for Valhalla, Mimir in tow. After rewatching the "Raising Kratos" Documentary on YT, I know the team at Santa Monica Studios really feel the love from their fans. If they intend to make a game about Kratos going to another mythology, I really hope Mimir is with him. It's clear they've gotten very close between 2018 and Ragnarök with how at ease and personal they get, especially since I'm pretty sure if Kratos left him with Freya, she's likely to 'misplace' him in the Lake of Nine. I found the different difficulty settings interesting when you first chose Valhalla at the main menu. I started on the 3rd (the very middle) and am currently working my up when I feel it's getting to hard. Right now I'm at the one right before "Show Me Mastery" (the names escape me lol). I'm not expert at Rogue-Likes, but the consensus I seem to see is that the gameplay of God of War really lends itself well to the style of game. And what a genius way to utilize what was previously, I felt, an underused character, Tyr! Even when you free him in Niflheim, I feel I was waiting for him to do more outside the post-story interactions you get to get glimpses to his character (and potentially hint and later games). Him being Kratos' therapist is really demonstrates how similar they both are, how strong Tyr is, and what we can hopefully see Kratos grow into moving forward. As someone who recently started therapy around the same time as this DLC came out, I couldn't help but feel connected to Kratos myself. Especially Mimir. I, too, have been trying to improve from someone I wasn't proud of and as a result I'm too hard on myself sometimes. It limits me from achieving personal acceptance, like I don't deserve the good things in my life. What this game puts Kratos (and myself by proxy) through, is how to accept his actions, his mistakes. To acknowledge who we were and to not let it stop us from embracing the chances to do better. Now, you don't have to have killed entire pantheons, your family, and plunge a society into destruction with mountains of innocent lives at your feet... but I think we can agree that kind of message resonates. The scene where he sees his younger self in that throne just HITS. Kratos admonishes his past self for doing such awful things and being such an awful person... but also accepting him/himself to be more complex than that, he always has been. In a way, it sticks it to the people who said (prior to the 2018 game) that God of War is just about over the top violence, blood, tits, gore, more blood is missing the forest for the trees. They're big trees, sure, but not the whole forest. There was always more to Kratos that violence and the hack and slash genre, dude is a massive greek tragedy. And in Norse, he's putting Hero's Journeys like he was born for it.

The side conversations with Mimir hit me the hardest, grappling with your own self esteem when you feel you aren't enough for our loved ones, hearing about he and Sigrun first met, how utter in love he was with her throughout the last two games and here. It strikes a familiar cord... which is why I'm so glad he was able to let go so she can find herself in the end and the support he has from Kratos. We talk about all the time how the wise and loving decision is usually to let go (as it is!), but I think it must be said how hard it can be. It's the right choice, ultimately, but damn if isn't difficult to actually get there. I think my take away has been more of an affirmation that letting go is what I need to do, and the way to help ease the transition is to make sure I have a support system and learn to love time with myself in order to value my own merits, even if I have shortcomings. "Does she not deserve the smartest man alive?" CHILLS On a less serious note, it's good to see Freya out and about! Finding her freedom and stepping up as a leader for the 9 realms. It's good to see that post story, she does care about the both of them. Maybe they parted ways for a bit as Freya takes a more public role in organizing her council, but their journeys (which we can assume all side objectives you can do with her are canon) brought more than a professional connection. Like,

(sorry for shit quality) Totally gives off "Wife found Husband doing something reckless/stupid" vibes. And I'll admit, I am like... 85% if not 90% on the Kraya/Freytos/Warflower train. Baldur's death really does weigh on my mind when I think about Freya and Kratos as a pairing. And I do also like the idea of them being good friends as time goes on. Not to mention Kratos likely still holds Faye close and Freya's last marriage was fuckin bonkers. But I still do like to see these grieving parents, comrades at arms, finding a home in each other, a connection that makes each one feel safe, real, and loved. Not without bumps in the road, but they'd make an awesome power couple. And the shameless smut, but it goes without saying. Oh and whatever reaction it would get from Atreus would be hilarious.

In the end, this DLC really leaves me wanting more, theorizing where the story goes from here. I see a lot of people throwing out ideas on what mythologies they go to next, who's our next playable character. I feel it's still gonna be Kratos, but I also feel it has to make sense to his story. He's become very developed in this DLC, when you have a character who becomes so developed, there is little room/reason to really keep telling their story, at least in a way that can translate to an action pact video game epic. The only thing I can think of for Kratos, is we get to see him follow through with his development. And that, my friends, is another post. Until then! I hope enjoyed my ramblings!

#writers on tumblr #gow #god of war #gow ragnarok #warflower #kratos #mimir #freya #not bad for a first post #review #really just me gushing lol #images are from google #I do not own them

30 notes · View notes

green-loser-lover · 5 months

Text

Imitation X (au)

Im sure that you guys have heard of theories for different shows? Not the interesting MatPat kind, the horror/bizarre ones that suck the childlike wonder from kids shows? Like the Phineas & Ferb theory or the Rugrats theory (both saying that all the kids are dead except for Candice/Angelica)? Well theres one for PPG called "the imagination theory" and my au is based off of it. (if interested keep reading but it gets long and i dont want clutter)

The imagination theory while interesting doesn't get.. explored often and just gets explained by youtubers some times? If you don't want to read all of it: the girls are normal and just play pretend superhero, the villains are all people from their lives and the Professor is their dad (duh)

I think the entire concept could be expanded on without changing the whole "normal girls thing". Enter imitation X! Basically everything happening is through the girls eyes and equate to something in the real world! Monsters are like shootings/bombings, villains are ordinary people, everything that happens is just them coping with their less than ideal lives. So i want to fit all the characters (main ones at least) into that idea as well as different episodes!

For now though lets start with the girls (this post is too long bezus)

Blossom

In Imitation X her real name is Blaine (meaning yellow.. yk how the prof gives bubbles/blossom names based off of how they act and buttercup just bc it also starts with b? yeah i kinda did that to bloss bc i wanted their named to sound similar oops)

When the girls came up with the game she was the one to make the rules which really just meant she tried her hardest to make up reason after reason for her to be special while her sisters couldn't do half the stuff she could. Eventually she just started having fun with the game and stopped being so controlling. When Buttercup/Bubbles played at first the whole thing was a mess (Butter wanting all gore and Bubbles wanting all cutesy stuff) so she came up with the girls backstory and set a middle ground for them

Shes not smarter than her sisters! I'd say shes more clever/quick to think but shes not like a super genius or anything and shes wrong pleanty. In imitation X Blossom is extremely responsible as always but she can also be selfish and throw the other girls under the bus. Out of the three of them shes the most willing to deal with their real world problems without the game and is the most tethered to reality. Which is how i think she can get away with things she herself did and blame it on buttercup or bubbles!

Buttercup

Her name is Briar (meaning thorny patch/strength or exalted one)

She loves all things superheros(in this au at least), so she was the one to come up with the game HOWEVER it was a totally gritty solo game that she wanted absolutley no one else to take part in.. until she got lonely lol. 1 punching all your villians with no plot gets boring quick. Eventually she asked bubbles to draw her superhero for her (her supersona??) and bubbles wanted to play bc it looked cool. Ofc Buttercup put her through different trials to let her join,, and even then Bubbles became her sidekick at first (which led to squables)

Shes willing to deviate from their game to hang out with her friends who think its lame or whatnot (did i mention theyve been playing since they were five up until theyre 12?) She made the whole game as an escape from the real world so its pretty easy for her to get back into it after a while. Buttercup isn't a hot head in imitation X! She gets angered/annoyed easily but instead of blowing up she. freezes? up? She'll stop talking when shes been angered and isolate herself! Which is why Buttercup (in game) is so violent! Real world Butters cant express herself the way she wants so she uses the game as an outlet. Shes very defensive of her sisters (for reasons that will be revealed later) but at the same time shes very ready to abandon them when they get on her nerves. And i mean abandon, she will leave the house for days!

Bubbles

Last but not least (shes my beloved guys i just never mention it) Blair! (meaning dweller on the plains and is meant to invoke images of meadows/fields.. shes the main character if you didnt notice /j)

When Buttercup told her to draw for her she fell inlove with the idea of being a superhero and was willing to do all the trials and whatnot just to play. She ofc loved being a powerpuff and made the strongest connection with the game.She did get tired of being a sidekick though bc she got to make almost no choices so she came up with monsters and played as them until she got tired of it and started to argue with buttercup about the whole thing. Yeah it def took time for her to become a real superhero duo w/ Butters but when it happened she'd never been happier

Bubbles constantly sees things through the game. No shes not crazy she knows its not happening but she almost never stops pretending. It took a long few years before Blossom got her to stop at school (for the most part). Bubbles goes through the most in the au and therefore she likes to actively cope. Its extremely hard for her to snap into reality and when she does shes really not herself, very muted and disgruntled. It takes her a surprisingly long time to start coping again as well, awareness throws her for a loop and she will make a fuss of it. Shes more of a crybaby and is easily scared in the real world (she tries not to cry in front of others though ofc) people like her but she'd rather stay to herself than be around other people. Bubbles in the game is far more sassy than she is because she wished she did speak her mind and do whatever makes her happy whenever she felt like.

Thats! It! For the girls lol Professor, Mojo Jojo/rrb, or HIM will probably come next because they are all significant in the AU! After them probably the Mayor, Bellum and Sedusa or the GGG! Hope you enjoyed and stick around to read more :3! R&R and have a good day!

8 notes · View notes

goingrampant · 11 months

Text

The Boys #1 notes: cover to page 2

Alright, so The Boys was written by Garth Ennis, a man who hates genres and tries to end them with satirical fiction. The Boys is his attempt to end superhero comics. Alan Moore previously attempted that with Watchmen by portraying everything with deadly seriousness. Obviously, he failed and Watchmen was ultimately subsumed into the DC universe, but his effort shows genuine human empathy as comes from understanding the genre, recognizing how people actually behave, and presenting something people would develop a real emotional response to. Garth Ennis basically shits all over that and that's what The Boys is: Watchmen covered in shit. I don't usually get so graphic, but the sheer repugnance of The Boys demands a bit of rhetorical oomph.

Darick Robertson does the illustration. He also deserves some of the blame for making everything look like a fascist's satirical representation of degenerate art.

The first issue, released in October 2006, is given the appropriate title "This Is Going to Hurt".

Cover: Oooh, we're so edgy! Look at these tough guys and one girl ready to beat up the viewer in a bit of gangland violence. You'd have to be a reeeaaal tough guy to read it, right?!

Title page: A parody of Greg Rucka's Wonder Woman: The Hiketeia's depiction of Wonder Woman stepping on Batman's head, here distorted into a gross image of a boot (Butcher) stamping down on the face of a Captain America knockoff (Soldier Boy) and seriously mashing up his face in horrific gore. Like, this is completely unnecessary, just "Oooh, we're edgy!" to start off the edgelord book and let you know you're in for an edgy time.

Thematically, it nods to the communist idea of the working class rebelling against the oppressive capitalist class. Butcher's boot is the working class leather lace-up used as a symbol of the hard-working common man often seen in communist propaganda. However, it's also consistent with fascist art about a Volkish uprising against Jewish elites (national socialism borrowing various actual socialist concepts and grafting them to far-right antisemitism). A lot of stuff in The Boys feels fascist-friendly, if not centering them as the target demographic.

The title card tells us this arc is called "The Name of the Game: Part One".

Pages 1-2: We're introduced to Billy Butcher, an assholish looking black leather-clad man on a park bench with his bulldog named Terror. For some reason, female The Boys fans love this dog. Like, they love this dog. I guess he's kind of cute before Butcher reveals how he's trained him, but... I don't get it.

Butcher looks up at some superheroes flying overhead and pledges to get revenge on one of them (Homelander), calling him a "cunt". Now, the word "cunt" has different levels of obscenity in the U.S. vs. the U.K. In the U.K., it means something like "asshole" and is regularly used against men, while in the U.S., it's a misogynistic slur exclusively used against women with the connotation that they're only valuable for sex and shouldn't be considered real people. I think if a man were to call another man a "cunt" in the U.S., it might be taken as a rape threat because the concept of being used for penetration is bound up in it.

Butcher is a working class man from England, so he can use "cunt" in the freer way, but I really get the sense that Ennis (from the U.K. himself) specifically included a character from this demographic so that he could get away with plastering the pages with what American readers would read as a misogynistic slur. It's set in America and marketed to Americans. Ooh, edgy!

Now, what Butcher says is "I'm gonna fuckin' have you, you cunt." With the American connotation, that sounds like a rape threat. Our hero, everyone, starting things off with a rape threat.

Something I'm going to be saying a lot is "The show spins this progressively." The show is genius, finding the good parts in the dung heap. The "cunt" thing is spun in an interesting way commentating on American culture, challenging notions of obscenity, and fits into a pattern of musing on gender roles. Thank you, Rebecca Sonnenshine.

Next time... page 3!

#the boys notes #sexism #oooh edgy!#loose communist themes #sus fashy content #queue and i are one forever

13 notes · View notes

astralsweetness · 11 months

Note

since i follow your ao3 i know what your current obsession is, and i always find these fun, so, recommend a kdrama to tanisha!

Oh! This is a sweet ask. 🤍 @tenpintsofsundrop and I both have a sort of "anxiety" when it comes to watching new things - it's hard for us to get comfortable with the idea of starting something new, so we don't latch onto new shows easily. This also means that I literally only have five or six things I'd recommend to anyone regardless, bcs I don't watch many things period.

So with that in mind I'm gonna "recommend" something for her, not expecting her to watch it, but instead something I think fits her vibes and the things she likes!

Based on her vibes/the vibes I perceive: "Cinderella and the Four Knights". So, this is an older drama (2016) and actually the only kdrama on my "will recommend" list that is primarily romance. Wild, I know? I just usually hate romances LOL.

The female lead is very independent and repeatedly puts the men in their places (and she's so pretty while doing it gjdfghd), and it was the first (and only, I think) show where I actually was smiling and giddy when she interacted with the other lead and they acted happy and in-love. Usually it just bothers me haha. Tanisha really gives me the vibe of "beauty despite hardships", and while this is considered a "romantic comedy" something about this drama immediately made me think of her when I was like "hmm what vibes does Tanisha give me?". Something about choosing to be kind even when life repeatedly gives you no reason to be. Something about radiating a type of beauty even when life tries to dull it. Something like that.

Based on what I think she'd genuinely like: "Strangers From Hell". Is anyone surprised?? I was obsessed with this when it came out, and Tanisha is probably the only friend I have who can deal with gore and horror and wouldn't flinch away from this. It's psychological horror and everything about it is done so smart - the literature parallels are genius, the cinematography is amazing, the music direction is great, and it's really fascinating how you can look back on scenes and see how the main character was being manipulated despite not noticing it at the time. Its also got a great twist[?]-ending, and my favorite thing - it's incredibly short and there's no second season, which means my anxiety for giving it a shot was very low haha (and I'm eternally grateful I did, bcs.. wow). I hate rewatching things but I've rewatched this about three times now.

The acting is phenomenal as well and I literally enjoyed this short experience so much that I talked about it to literally anyone that would listen. It was so fascinating and I could not stop thinking about it.

#tanisha #ask #anonymous #strangers from hell #hell is other people #cinderella and the four knights #cinderella with four knights

13 notes · View notes

bloopdydooooo · 13 days

Note

i'm asking you abt your version of hamlet but you have to ask me about wtnv ghosts OR kris dreemurr, deal?

for this, i will ask you about both.

(it got too long i hid it under the read more)

ANYWAYS i had a breakthrough like. ten minutes ago cause i was thinking about how i'd put a spin on hamlet. cause i was talking w my director for romeo & juliet a while back and he said how important it is in shakespeare to have something that makes your production just a little special a little unique so people will keep coming to see it. if it's the same plays over and over presented w the same contexts and worlds and everything, no one will want to see it. (i mean i would but i'm. uh. abnormal). and i've been agonizing over what my spin on hamlet would be, were i to direct it (an idea which has taken control of my brain and will not let me go. this has become my dream in life and i'm literally an actor not a director). point is i found it.

i was thinking about Shitty College Kids hamlet and then i was suddenly struck w the passing thought of crime family. and then it kept coming back. and i think i might be a genius. hear me out:

hamlet's family, the royal family of denmark, is actually a crime family. gertrude may be the one who technically runs the show but really she's a mob wife she doesn't exactly make use of her power, instead letting her husband do it. her husband claudius, who has hamlet sr. killed and then marries his sister in law (the kind of wild bullshit i can imagine happening in a mafia movie, of which i have watched none (but will for research)) so he can take control of the family business. it adds a darker, grittier level to basically everything in the play; taking them from high society – royalty, even – to a shady crime family, and fits perfectly with my vision of the play: i crave violence in hamlet, and i think he deserves some blood and gore. its enrichment for him. with a modern take we can give him a gun to kill polonius with, shooting him through something more significant than a curtain (i wouldn't do a mirror obviously but hamlet (2009) i fucking love you for that) and the stakes are all heightened when bullets get involved. plus it really pushes the whole bit where hamlet is sent off to england (and would, i guess, be someone else's territory?), because in this everyone would know he was going to his death. there would be no naivety, no shock horror when he says he was sent to his doom, just people standing by and watching as this kid is sentenced to death. 5.2 is a knife fight, quick and dirty and scrappy – none of the class of a rapier duel – and it raises the stakes a lot. there are rules and regulations in swordfighting, not so much in a rage fueled knife fight. hamlet, in the end, stabs his uncle with either his or laertes' blade but im thinking his. there is no poison it is just a brutal, bloody slaughter. it gives me the darkness and violence i've been hungering for but were harder to push for in the context of a castle, of high society. they still have the power, the influence, but they're taken to a place where i can have all the grit my heart desires without it feeling out of place.

it also makes relationships between characters so much more interesting. hamlet, for example, is still a scholar, a highly emotional college kid who talks in flowery prose and has a passion for theater, but now he's supposed to be inheriting the Family Business and not a kingdom, where all his gayboy bullshit wouldn't be very out of place. it pushes him further as an outsider, as someone that people would turn against, would throw to the wolves. who does that make horatio? hamlet's friend from school, maybe tangentially related to the family but only really through hamlet? how about ophelia? daughter of the councilor to the 'king', is she actually someone that they would want hamlet to marry? and what to make of laertes, who seems to abandon denmark for france? he comes back and is almost instantly accepted back into the inner circle despite having requested leave and happily departed, is claudius gunning for him to take hamlet's place as next in line? rosencrantz and guildenstern? clearly hamlet's friends from within the business they're also at his university, did they follow him there or did they all happen to find themselves in the same place? we're there greased palms to get them in? what about hamlet? and gertrude! the family line ascends through her, it must or claudius wouldn't need to marry her to get the power, but she shows no real desire to exercise it, even when her son is in danger. what's her deal, what's her story? she must have one, she's a fascinating person.

tl;dr the version of hamlet i've been craving is apparently a mob boss au. and you know what? it's awesome.

also. consider the costuming opportunities. they are infinite, and they are fabulous.

i have so many more thoughts but sadly it is 3am and they will not all form properly so i will leave it at this

#cecil rambles #ask tag #go-to-the-mirror #dalek s01e06 #i have so many thoughts about hamlet why has it become my goal in life to direct this show.#IM NOT A DIRECTOR #IM AN ACORT!!!#WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!!!#hamlet #anyways i have to watch so many mob movies now i guess. cause i'm dedicated and shit.#this is so heavily inspired by my production of r&j but no one will ever know that cause tiny fucking local theater or whatever.#shoutout to olivier (that director) you're amazing and i love you forever

4 notes · View notes

insaneasgardian · 3 years

Text

Arachnid Enigma - Irondad and Spiderson

Inspired by a headcanon from @cassiecasyl

“I just had this thought... Tony suddenly gets hyperfixated on spiders and noone knows why. The first time the Avengers notice it's on a mission and it's not weird, he's a genius after all, they figure he just knows stuff. But then he begins rambling about spiders randomly. And sometimes he speaks about some issues like it's personal experience but he doesn't have a pet spider, Nat confirmed that?? What is going on???”

And an addition to it by @savvysass

“Lmao then spiderman walks in and they r like ah. Ok.”

............................................................................................

Also, this is an Irondad and Spiderson fic. I do NOT ship Starker for obvious reasons. If you do, I would like you to leave my blog.

🦸‍♀️🦹‍♂️🦸‍♂️🦹‍♀️ 🦸‍♀️🦹‍♂️🦸‍♂️🦹‍♀️ 🦸‍♀️🦹‍♂️🦸‍♂️🦹‍♀️ 🦸‍♀️🦹‍♂️🦸‍♂️🦹‍♀️ 🦸‍♀️🦹‍♂️🦸‍♂️🦹‍♀️ 🦸‍♀️🦹‍♂️🦸‍♂️🦹‍♀️

There have been several times Tony Stark has displayed a fascination with arachnids. The first time Tony ever mentioned spiders was on a stealth mission in Bhutan where a HYDRA base had been spotted. It was supposed to be relatively easy, break in, grab intel, don’t be seen, and get out. It was a successful mission but not everything went according to plan.

“I’m in” Steve spoke into his comms as he looked around the HYDRA base he had just infiltrated. “No sign of any people, just a lot of spiders and dust”, he added, eyeing the critters that scuttled around the dark and grimy area.

“Of course there are,” Tony commented, “HYDRA isn’t exactly a stickler for cleanliness, and spiders love dirty, sooty, nasty areas to live in”. Steve proceeded to roll his eyes at the obvious remark. It was just Tony being Tony.

“Has everyone managed to locate the entrance?”, The Captain inquired, getting plenty of affirmative responses. Soon enough, everyone managed to enter the building and joined Steve in the large room he stood in.

There was no illumination except for the few rays sunlight that filtered in through the cathedral window. Just as Steve had said, there was an immense amount of dust settled all over the floor, window, and grand staircase that led to the second floor, along with a lot of arachnids. Clint stepped forward, accidentally crunching a couple of spiders under his foot. Tony clenched his jaw tightly, “Don’t. DO THAT!” he hissed extremely loudly, alarming everyone.

Clint gulped, “Geez, sorry”. Unfortunately for the team of heroes, Tony had not only surprised his colleagues but the occupants of the building too. Shuffling and a lot of movement was heard, and before the Avengers could retreat, the enemy confronted them.

“Great work Tony”, Natasha mumbled angrily under her breath when she saw several HYDRA agents rushing down the stairs. Earth’s mightiest heroes worked quickly and efficiently to take out the flocks and flocks of operatives running at them. Although it wasn’t a very hard job, it still took out the stealth element out of their job.

After the oncoming threat was wiped out and the data they needed had been collected, the team swiftly exited the base and entered the quinjet where Bruce was waiting for them. “What happened?” the scientist asked, inspecting his friends who were covered in gore.

Sam sighed, “Tony happened”, he stated simply.

Another time Tony spoke of the arachnids was when they had a day off, and decided to spend them with Clint’s family at their farm. It was around now that a few of the heroes began to suspect that Tony wasn’t just knowledgeable about the eight legged critters, but he was utterly fascinated by them.

“Thank you again for having us Laura” Wanda said, earning a kind smile from Clint’s wife.

“It was no problem at all!” she responded, putting together some quick snacks for the whole team.

The Avengers had a great time with the Bartons. Chatting and laughing, gossiping and giggling. It was fun. Just before they were about to leave and as Clint kissed his wife goodbye, a little shriek was heard. It was Nathaniel Barton.

Everybody was alarmed at first, thinking something terrible had happened to the boy, but when they saw the cause, they couldn’t help burst out laughing. A large house spider was crawling on Nathaniel’s show. Although spiders were the cause of a rational phobia, the team of heroes did not fear the hairy critter before them.

Tony stepped forward and picked up the spider, placing it somewhere it would be safe, and also where Nathaniel wouldn’t freak out over it. He then turned to the youngest Barton child, “Don’t worry kid,” he began “spiders are great creatures! Honestly, they’re really cute, and nice, and brave”.

Thor snickered, “You speak of spiders as if they’re people”. Tony opened his mouth to say something, but then hurriedly shut it and looked away from the group. Tony was quiet. That was a first. What was happening to Tony?

Meanwhile, Rhodey stood in the corner, looking at the confused glances his friends gave each other as they attempted to figure out what was causing Tony’s new behavior. He smiled, and this didn’t go unnoticed by Loki who narrowed his eyes slightly and chewed his lip in thought. What did Colonel James know?

To mention one more instance in which Tony displayed an unusual interest in spiders was just the day after the Avengers visit to the Bartons. Nick Fury had brought his pet tarantula to work and the team was crowded around it.

“What’s his name?” Sam curiously inquired.

“It’s Bert,” the director responded, sounding rather bored, “I got him from Agent Hill’s house, she despises spiders”.

Tony looked at Maria, who was standing quite far away from Bert, cautiously watching him. “Don’t be scared Maria!” he exclaimed, “They’re gentle, come closer”. The agent’s eyes widened in fear and she rapidly shook her head which made a few of the Avengers chuckle. “Come on”, Tony encouraged.

Maria looked around the room for an escape, but seeing that everyone in the room had conveniently blocked the exits she sighed and walked closer. “Go on and pet him”, Fury remarked, clearly amused at the situation. Agent Hill desperately wanted to refuse but she didn’t want to chicken out so she carefully held out a finger and ran it over the tarantula’s hairy body.

She wanted to puke.

“See! It’s not so bad!” Steve said, smiling at her. Still, the agent quickly pulled away. Spiders were definitely not her thing. “Yes, spiders are just as scared of humans and some humans are of them,” Tony began, “they’re quite shy actually but very gentle! They won’t hurt anybody unless they feel provoked-”

“What is it with you and spiders?” Bruce cut him off with a playful grin. The genius billionaire playboy philanthropist froze and all the humor initially on his features disappeared. Everyone noticed this change in behavior and Bruce fidgeted uncomfortably, believing he had upset his lab buddy. “I mean... you just speak of them a lot, do you have like a pet spider or something?”

Tony remained quiet but Natasha answered, “No, he doesn’t have any pets”. The group turned to the redheaded assassin and she shrugged, “What? I’m a spy, I know stuff”.

A silence fell over once again, and it was interrupted by Tony. “Oh! I got a business meeting soon, see you guys later”, and with that, he turned and trudged away just as Phil Coulson walked in. Tony bumped into him, “Sorry Agent” he mumbled quietly before proceeding to walk out.

Phil shot Nick and Maria a confused look, and both returned it. The Avengers on the other hand knew for sure something was up.

The last time the Avengers wondered about Tony’s obsession with spiders was also the time they found out its cause. The entire team was just about to enter Tony’s lab.

“Sleep well spidey boy” are exactly the words the Avengers heard Tony whisper before they could walk into his lab. They all heard it, and looked around at each other for confirmation that they were hearing the right thing. They then proceeded to have a conversation right outside Tony’s work space. A quick one, in which they decided it was time to confront Tony about his spider problem. There was nothing wrong with loving them, but talking to a spider? This was unhealthy.

So they opened the door to the lab and walked in on a very surprised Tony Stark, his face paled, but he regained his composure. “Heyyyy, what’s up guys?” he asked, casually leaning against a wall.

His superhero friends looked at him sadly and Steve stepped forward, “Tony, I think it’s time we talked about-” he was interrupted by a snore. Captain America agitatedly glanced back, “Can you guys please be serious?”, he requested. However, everyone behind him was looking confused.

Then a cough was heard, then another, it then developed into a coughing fit. Then there was silence. Until there wasn’t. “Oh shoot! I am so sorry Mr Stark, did I disturb yo-... OH MY GOD IT’S THE AVENGERS!”, a voice came from the ceiling. The group collectively looked up and saw a boy, no older than 16 with wavy brown hair and adorable doe brown eyes gaping at them.

Tony tiredly rubbed his eyes, “Hope you had a nice nap Peter,” he said, “Come down now”. The boy, Peter, obliged and hopped down from the ceiling without injuring himself.

“How did you do that? Stick to the ceiling I mean” Bucky asked.

Peter looked at the super soldier and smiled brightly, “I’m spiderman!”, he practically yelled, “It’s what I do!”. The Avengers all looked at this young boy in shock.

“The kid from Queens?” Wanda asked.

“Yea, the kid from Queens,” Rhodey confirmed, “Tony kept Peter a secret this whole time as so not to endanger him”.

The billionaire nodded and smiled sheepishly, “Secrets out now I guess...” he murmured.

There was silence, it wasn’t awkward or comfortable. It was the kind of silence that hung in the air after a huge revelation... It was astounded silence.

Tony broke it, he placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder and began guiding him out the room, “Come on kid, let’s go get some cheeseburgers”. With that, they stepped out the lab and left the rest of the people still standing there, completely appalled.

Steve turned back to the group he had led into the lab, “Well... that kind of explains the interest in spiders I guess...”

@emma-elsa-0000 @lost-lunar-wolf @joyful-soul-collector @teammightypen @blerghfish @incorrect-spiderson @only-love-can @badmcuposts @cassiecasyl @savvysass

#Avengers #Irondad #Spiderson #Irondad and Spiderson fic #Tony keeping Peter a secret #Peter sleeping on the ceiling #Marvel #funny avengers #funny marvel #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #inspired

76 notes · View notes

dawninlatin · 3 years

Text

Happy Halloween

Part of the Manorian Teacher AU

Words: 1782

AO3 Link

Masterlist

Summary: Manon and Dorian celebrate Halloween together for the first time

Dorian Havilliard was finally beginning to understand that Manon had been serious when she’d uttered the words I don’t play Halloween. This was the first holiday they would spend together, and Dorian knew he’d be in for a rough month when his girlfriend had woken up on October 1st, a disturbing smile on her face, and declared the day to be the first of Halloween.

Manon was slightly terrifying on any given day, but Manon during the spookiest month of the year…Dorian suppressed a shudder at the thought of how she practically buzzed with giddy excitement.

And how his girlfriend, it seemed, went all out with everything.

Stepping into the kitchen, which had been transformed into the lab of a mad scientist, Dorian filled the giant bowl standing on the counter with candy for any trick-or-treaters that might dare knock on their door.

Normal people usually went with one theme when decorating their home, but theirs looked like a haunted mansion, a new theme in every room. Their garden was now a graveyard, the downstairs bathroom could have passed for an asylum, the living room was a murder scene, the hallway was filled with your average spider webs and skeletons, and in the kitchen, there were jars filled with very realistic eyes, creepy, rusty instruments hanging on the walls and vials with green smoke coming out of them. Manon had assured him whatever she was brewing was perfectly safe, «just don’t, under any circumstance, ingest it.»

Not playing, indeed.

One would think having Aelin Galathynius as a friend for most of his life would make him immune to anything spooky, since Halloween practically was a religion to her, but compared to Manon, it was all child’s play. No surprise those two had gotten along so quickly.

Throughout the month, they’d watched more horror movies together than Dorian had his whole life, and every day, Manon found new, creative ways to scare him shitless.

Dorian often wondered how he hadn’t had an actual heart attack yet, with all the ways she’d managed to make him scream in horror, whether that was by jumping out from behind doors or placing severed limbs in the fridge. Not even work was safe, since they were both teachers at the same high school.

He couldn’t help but look a little forward to tomorrow, when it would all be over, their lives back to normal. Of course, he would never tell Manon that. As much as he hated being scared, the look of complete and utter glee on her face whenever she managed to scare him made up for it.

It wasn’t that Dorian didn’t like Halloween, either, they just had completely different views on how to best spend it. His ideal Halloween meant watching a cozy movie like Halloweentown or A nightmare before Christmas while shamelessly eating a ridiculous amount of candy. Manon’s motto seemed to be the more macabre, the better.

But instead of complaining, Dorian looked forward to Christmas, when he would guilt her into partaking in every cheesy, fluffy tradition there was while feeling the joyous spirit of Christmas. He could already picture how hard Manon would roll her eyes at all the Hallmark movies he planned to show her.

After filling up the huge bowl of candy, Dorian stepped out into the hallway, placing it on the console table next to the door. Hopefully he would get to eat most of it by the end of the night, since he doubted anyone were brave enough to walk up to their dark, old house. He sure as shit wouldn’t have been.

As he passed the large, full-length mirror, Dorian couldn’t help the satisfied look on his face. He’d done an excellent job with his costume this year. A sheer blouse, a pair of high-waisted black pants, golden jewelry, golden dust highlighting his cheekbones, pointy ears, a tail, all pulled together by the goblet of wine he was holding. The one good thing about Halloween was that it allowed him to dress up as his favorite book characters.

He shifted his gaze downward for a moment, adjusting his clothes, and when he looked back up, he let out a yelp at the creature standing behind him in the mirror. Thunder crackled outside as Manon leaned her head back and laughed manically.

She was a truly horrifying sight to behold with her wholly white eyes and bloody grin. Her white hair was smeared with what could only be described as gore and her throat looked to be slit. She looked like a nightmare, and judging by the satisfied smirk on her face, she knew it too.

«You ready for some scary movies?» Manon asked him, giving his costume a nod of approval. Absolutely not, Dorian wanted to say, knowing she’d saved the worst movies for last.

Instead, he took a shuddering breath and said, «Can’t wait.» His voice was tight, shaking slightly. The look Manon gave him made him want to turn the lights on and hide under a blanket.

They were only fifteen minutes into A Nightmare on Elm Street, but Dorian was already clinging to Manon, his face buried in the crook of her neck. How could she be so calm right now? She seemed to be enjoying it, even.

Someone knocked on the door, and Dorian jumped, his heart racing. It’s just trick-or-treaters, he told himself. Definitely not a psychopath killer.

«Fucking finally!» Manon exclaimed as she paused the movie and got up, heading towards the door. Dorian was torn between wanting to run out and protect her from the killer that was surely waiting behind the closed door and begging her to not leave him alone.

Calm down you idiot, he told himself. What kind of killer knocks on the door?

Then it hit him, all blood draining from his face. It would be a genius move to just knock on the door if you wanted to kill someone.

As he was about to run into the hallway and hide behind his girlfriend as she dealt with the threat, he heard the door open, followed by the sound of giggling children. Manon’s words from earlier, when he’d asked why she loved Halloween so much, echoed in his mind: «I get to scare little children while looking awesome! What’s not to love?» The more he got to know this woman, the more she amazed him.

After a moment, Manon said something he couldn’t make out, but he could hear the kids scream as they ran away, then the door slamming shut once more. The sound of Manon’s evil laughter filled the eerie house as she stepped back into the living room. «I love Halloween!»

Dorian was sure he’d never been more relieved when the movie finally ended and Manon turned the lights back on. That relief was quickly replaced by dread though, when a loud thump sounded upstairs.

«What was that?» Manon asked, casting a worried glance at the ceiling.

Dorian eyed her suspiciously, knowing she was surely the one behind this.

«Why are you looking at me like that?» she hissed when she noticed his accusing stare. «This isn’t me, I swear!» His face paled at the truth he could hear in her voice.

«It’s probably nothing, right?» Dorian tried to hide the fear in his voice with a nonchalant chuckle. Their house was old, so it was normal for it to make a lot of scary noises. Although…

«That came from the attic, right?» Manon whispered from her spot next to him, her breath hitching as they heard another thump.

«I think so,» he said, swallowing audibly.

«Maybe we should check it out…»

Dorian shook his head. «Fuck no! The one thing I’ve learned from all those movies you’ve made me watch is to never check out weird noises.» No way was he stepping foot into the creepy attic. He’d avoided it as much as possible since moving into the house a month ago.

«Fine, then I’ll do it,» Manon declared, giving him a nasty glare. Yet he didn’t miss the way she rose a bit reluctantly, her voice shaking.

When she was halfway across the room, Dorian let out a defeated sigh, quickly trailing after her. He didn’t want to find the source of the noise, but he most definitely didn’t want to be left alone either.

He made sure to keep close behind her as they carefully treaded up the stairs, the howling wind making the entire house shake.

As they reached the top, Dorian put on a sweet face and gestured to the door. «After you, darling.»

Manon scoffed, rolling her eyes, but she didn’t move to open the door leading into the dark attic, either. Almost as if she was…hesitating.

«Don’t tell me you’re scared, Blackbeak?»

«No,» she claimed, but he could hear the fear in her voice. «ButifwedieIloveyou,» she blurted and opened the door.

Dorian knew the thought of something scaring Manon should have made him turn around and run for his dear life, but he was also eager to see what happened next.

Manon lifted a shaking hand to flick on the light, Dorian holding his breath. As her eyes fell upon the source of the noise, she let out a high-pitched shriek and ran into Dorian’s arms.

The shock of hearing Manon Blackbeak shriek erased all trace of fear lingering in him, and as he peered over her shoulder, into the attic, he leaned his head back and howled with laughter.

For there, in the middle of the floor, was Abraxos, trapped under a white sheet, a knocked-over box next to him. «Meow,» he said, as if in greeting.

Dorian pulled up his phone, snapping a picture of the little ghost. Then he turned around and took another, of Manon, who now stood at the middle of the landing, arms hanging limp at her sides, a mix of fear and confusion on her face. He should have felt guilty for laughing at her, but revenge tasted so sweet.

Her frightened look quickly turned into one of rage as she noticed what Dorian was doing, his laughter dying at the murderous glance she threw him. «Meow,» Abraxos said once more, unknowingly stopping Manon from killing Dorian with her eyes.

After freeing the poor kitten, Dorian turned towards a glaring Manon and said, unable to hide the amusement in his voice, «Is a harmless kitten all it takes to scare you?»

Her face broke into a terrifying grin. «I wouldn’t look so smug if I were you. There are still a few hours left…» Then she just turned on her heel and began walking down the stairs, glancing over her shoulder. «Happy Halloween, Dorian.»

A/N: Remember when I said I'd have lots of time to write? Yeah, me neither...

I am very sorry for not updating anything, but I barely have the energy to keep up with school these days, so things will take time:(

Feel free to leave feedback if you want to! It's a huge inspiration to keep writing<3

Taglist: @fireheartdreamerstarborn @bookishwitchling @ladywitchling @kit-12 @onfma @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sayosdreams

I keep a separate taglist for each ship, so let me know if you want to be added to this or any other:)

#dawninlatin teacher au #manorian halloween #manorian #manon x dorian #dorian x manon #manon blackbeak #dorian havilliard #throne of glass fluff #tog #sarah j maas #sjm #manorian fic #tog fic #manorian fluff

73 notes · View notes

dialovers-translations · 4 years

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS VERSUS Animate Tokuten Drama CD “Don’t stop the Jealousy!” [Kanato ver.]

Original title: JEALOUSYを止めないで! [カナト編]

Source: Diabolik Lovers Character VERSUS I Tokuten Drama CD for buying all three volumes

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Kaji Yuki

Translator’s note: I feel like this might need a tw for cannibalism... The DL franchise does like to toy around with the idea of the boys not simply craving a human’s blood, but being capable of eating their flesh as well, which is honestly pretty disgusting to me. ^^;; I know this may sound weird as someone who really enjoys the series, but I’m actually not a fan of bodily gore at all. (Which is probably why the more ‘intense’ blood sucking scenes freak me out) I do enjoy the world-building, the lore and the character development but I can’t say I’m sad about the fact they mellowed down the horror aspect a little as the series progresses. xD

Shuu ll Reiji ll Ayato ll Kanato ll Laito ll Subaru

“...!! ...Oh, it’s you. What’s the matter?”

You explain.

“Eh? I seemed a little down? ...Hah. You really think I want a lowly pest such as yourself to worry about me? ...Haah...I’m not gloomy or anything. It’s just...I was just wondering if there really isn’t a way for Teddy to live as a puppet.”

You ask him why he wants to turn Teddy into a puppet so badly.

“...Eh? Why I’m so fixated on Teddy? You want to know?”

You nod.

“Let me think...I don’t mind telling you, you know. ...However, promise me something in return. That from here on out...You won’t share that blood of yours with any of the other guys.”

You seem surprised.

“...Fufu...Ufufu...Ahahaha! That puzzled expression of yours...It’s priceless! I knew you’d hesitate! Fufu...You really are a slut, aren’t you? Even just earlier, when you showed all those faces to Reiji, I felt myself burning inside. So much so, I wanted to just cut you up and devour you whole on the spot. Not just one little finger, but your entire body...Fufu...”

You flinch.

“If I eat you, you won’t ever be able to give the other guys your blood again, right? Haah...Say, in that case, you’d no longer have to hesitate about anything either, you know? Right? Don’t you think that’s great too? Come on, we should do that after all! Aah~ I’m such a genius! Fufu...Now that it’s settled, let’s get this meal time started right away. Okay, Teddy?”

You step back.

“You want to run away? But I won’t let you...!”

Kanato pins you down.

*Thud*

“Heh...Slowpoke. You’re gravely mistaken if you think you could get away from me. ...Come on, keep still. No matter how much you scream or cry, Reiji won’t come. Now, give me your...everything...”

Kanato leans in.

*Rustle rustle*

“Fufu...~ Didn’t I tell you it’s useless? Just give up already...I’ll eat you piece by piece while sucking your blood, okay? Like that, it won’t just hurt, but you’ll be able to feel good as well. Right? ...Mmh...”

He bites you.

“Mm...Haah...Nn...Haah...Aah~ Today I’ve had quite a lot already, but I can still keep going...Fufu~ If it’s your blood...Mm...”

*Sluuuurp*

“...!! No matter how greedy I may be, I don’t get like this so easily, do you understand? ...Haah...Judging by the looks of it, you don’t comprehend at all, huh? Haah...Mmh...”

You whimper.

“How is it? Have you started feeling a little better? ...Heh. Seems like it. Just look at that shameless face you’re making. Seems like there’s really no limit to your desire. Nn...I really can’t take my eyes off you...I mean, I’m not wrong, right? The moment I leave you unguarded, someone will definitely come after your blood. That’s just how attractive your blood is. When I consider that, I just get so incredibly irritated...You are my doll after all, so I guess it feels like my toy is being taken away fro me? Also...I end up wondering if perhaps...You’re doing all of this on purpose...”

Kanato looks over at you.

“That kind of stuff is just really infuriating, don’t you think? In that case, you’d really be better off getting eaten by me. I’m sure of it...Come on...Where should I bite you next? Where do you like it?”

You tear up.

“Fufu...Fufufu...You look so pitiful...Aah...This really pisses me off...Don’t you know that the more you make that kind of expression, the more I want to completely and utterly mess you up?”

*Rustle rustle*

“Well then...Should I go for this place next? How about your ear? The earlobe seems easy on the stomach, don’t you think? Mmh, I’ve decided. I’ll settle on this spot.”

You flinch.

“Keep still, okay? If you don’t behave, you won’t just lose an ear, but I might just eat half of your face. Hehe...Exactly. Brace yourself, okay? Mmh...”

Kanato bites your ear.

“Mmh...Nn...Haah...It’s harder than I thought...Mmh...There’s tons of...blood oozing out...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Mm...Aah...No good...I want to gobble you up but...As if your blood’s begging me to stop...It keeps on flowing out...This blood makes me go mad, you see?”

*Gulp gulp*

“Aah...Haah...Hey, eating you in one sitting would be such a waste, so why don’t you just succumb and give in to me? Promise me that you won’t even show yourself to the other guys either...If you do that, I’ll slowly indulge in your body without killing you.”

*Rustle*

“It’ll be so much easier on you if you just decide to become mine, you see? I’m sure you’ll get to experience nothing but pleasurable things like this. Okay? Mmh...If you still won’t tell me what I want to hear after everything I’ve said, I really will end your life right here, right now.

Haah, haah...Hurry up and tell me you’ll be mine and mine only! ...Come on, I’m begging you! ...I’ll love you, okay? ...Please...Quickly...! No matter how long the night may be, I’m not that patient of a person, you see...”

ーー THE END ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kanato sakamaki #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

116 notes · View notes

the-roanoke-society · 3 years

Note

Is there any way you could tell us about Former Technical Officer Drake? (The one that uses Tom Holland as a face claim?) Like what happened to him that made him become a Former officer?

let’s talk about jude shepard.

and note, that i can’t talk about jude shepard without also speaking of where he died.

it isn’t often i get to tell a story that begins in one decade and ends over a century earlier.

details of violence, sci-fi-induced stressful situations and implied gore and body horror below the cut. proceed with caution.

turn back the clock to 1996.

jude—that is, drake, at the time—was one of the youngest people ever to be brought onto the basement crew. our watchers pinged him at just 14 for showing exceptional aptitude to what i would best describe as technomancy. the phrase ‘wiz kid’ was used often, and seriously. but, the then-wyvern—justine—knew that lilith wouldn’t bend on recruitment rules. she waited patiently until jude was old enough and immediately “adopted” him as a mentee.

our gate had been completely built by this time. at least, an early version of it.

but we knew way less then, than we do now.

and what we know now, we’re realizing, is still precious little.

i wish that i could tell you what happened to jude was significant. i wish i could say that it was meaningful, that it happened for a just cause. i wish i could say that for the handful of officers our homemade portal has swallowed over the decades.

but—well.

a year and a month. that was how long jude had existed fully in his role, fully as drake. justine trusted him completely, why wouldn’t she? he passed training with flying colors, of course he did, that genius born out of the bronx, maybe he’d graduate to her title someday, of course, why not, he’d make a great leader—

so of course he could do routine maintenance by himself.

of course, his hands would never slip and puncture the wrong wire, triggering an instantaneous opening that would have felt like stepping into a sauna turned way too high.

of course, he would never be snapped up, as though raptured.

but they did. and he was.

now, the good news, what slivers of it were to be found, were that we did trace his landing point.

the bad news—he wasn’t in north america in the 1990s.

he was in 19th century prussia.

and the worse news—which everyone knew was the worse news as soon as they saw lilith’s expression shift when she realized the coordinates—was where exactly in prussia he’d been spat out. it was why we couldn’t pull him back, even after repairing the gate’s puncture. why we couldn’t get a push signal to re-generate to the same point.

brennenburg castle.

she recognized it, of course she did.

alexander.

“lady,” lilith began. her eyes didn’t leave the screen, didn’t leave the green dot blinking in russia. “will you please get brosnya on the phone.”

when was it that she’d last spoken to yekatarina, the head of the order of snow and sun? a year ago? two? five?

because of the atrocities committed in that castle, the order is very—protective, of that particular parcel of land. today, as it was then, it’s heavily warded, and regularly observed. the structure itself still stands, condemned and rotting.

lilith had always run on the assumption that, surely, they’d sent field agents down into the castle’s interior to clear it. to make sure that nothing was left behind that shouldn’t be, like say—a proverbial open door.

an exquisitely, ridiculously dangerous open door.

but she still had a sense of decorum, and wasn’t about to point blank ask for some kind of verification as if it was owed to her. after all, the heaviest parts of that investigation would have been years and years earlier.

surely, they had.

surely.

but the unfortunate truth was that there wasn’t much to be done. alexander’s property was cursed, and that curse was powered by something far bigger, and far older, than us. jude was doomed as soon as he hit the ground.

the gate is our homemade doorway. we made it ourselves.

the orb that lilith desperately hoped was in the order’s protective custody, the entire reason behind the castle’s ruin? was built by something like a god. or gods. we’re—we’re not sure.

but it’s not our fault that research is limited.

remember another time we had someone try his hand at technomancy?

remember the time we hit a wall?

turns out that there is a way behind it after all.

remember, there was never any doubt that it wasn’t a wall, and a wall is not a wall without the other side.

if what had happened at brennenburg castle was anything like the world beyond the wall, lilith had zero desire for us, or any other agency, to go there.

more recently, dohbar has been sending her updates. there are seven orbs. “it’s all set up like spokes on a wheel, diana. spokes on a wheel. are we turning? where we are going? how many spokes? and where is the hub, you think? what could possibly lie at the center of something so vast? so ancient? what do you think, diana?” he was getting worse every month. she could see it in his writing. she knew ness was watching him, but not in the role of distant, mournful witness, not like she was watching him.

we have evidence that alexander managed to secure at least a beginning signal, an initial push, to this other plane.

we have no evidence that it was successfully destroyed—beyond the order’s word.

but lilith wondered.

justine was heart-broken, which is why the handle was retired for fifteen years, even as her title passed to jeremy, who followed protocol out of respect—up until he actually met drake and it felt a little too much like a ‘stars aligning’ moment.

a clever cover story was crafted for the benefit of jude’s parents. one that made his ending quick, easy. pure accident. pure fate. pure whatever would bring them peace.

lilith didn’t know it. she wept, god, how she cried, for nights, praying for the first time in what seemed like lifetimes to anybody, please let it have been quick. please let it have been easy. please let him be in peace. please let it have been quick— a never-ending mental prayer chain, timed with her heartbeats, with her jagged breaths. because she knew it had been none of those things. she knew this for a fact. but she whispered into her hands anyway, cupping her own pleas like water to offer to the universe for just this one thing.

at least... as much peace as they could offer at the price of a body. there was nothing to bury. nothing to burn. “we’re sorry. he is gone.”

they bought a plot anyway. they upturned the soil, (”ned--neddy? honey, is this--are we breaking the law?” “oh they wouldn’t dare touch this flower bed, analiese. it’s--it’s the principle of the thing!”) planting begonias. jude’s favorite flower. and yes, he has a tombstone, calling him by his names: jude levi shepard. beloved son. beloved friend. beloved, beloved, beloved.

jude was “buried” in between his paternal and maternal grandparents in a cemetery in long island.

annabelle has a saved photo on her phone from drake of the view from jude’s garden, looking at the city’s skyline.

10 notes · View notes

angstblanket1 · 6 months

Text

Dear Yuletide Writer 2023,

Thank you for writing for me or considering writing for me! Treats are enabled. Some fandoms/prompts may be more lengthy than others or different from last year- please try not to read too much into it. This is a product of many factors, but not my enthusiasm! I will be thrilled by a gift for any of these fandoms, whether you’re inspired by what I write here or whether I get to read a take on these fandoms completely different than anything I would have thought of myself!

General likes:

things that experiment with the possibilities of the medium! Whether the gradual realization of the framing device in The Strange Case of Starship Iris, or The Bletchley Circle and The Queen’s Gambit turning internal thought processes into something that is focused on (creatively, gorgeously, in a way that builds tension) instead of invisible. So for fic, anything that plays with the (change in) medium is super exciting to me- from 5+1 to epistolary to Interactive Fiction to whatever weird formatting you want to experiment with.

Using that to bring us inside the uniqueness of a character’s though process

characters or authors showing off their specialized knowledge or overanalysis for absolutely any topic

worldbuilding

bittersweet

angst

forced to make difficult choices that have no get-out-of-jail-free, best-of-both-worlds escape hatch

loyalty- against all odds, or attempted loyalty that just isn’t enough

self-sacrifice

characters who enjoy being around each other (in their own idiosyncratic way)

Relationships that are non-monogamous, shifting, complex, difficult to define, involve competing needs, require negotiation, that are platonic yet extremely important to the people involved in them, that revolve around shared interests, that are extremely strong

characters who are messed up, abrasive, solitary, and/or super smart

making yourself better

making the world better

teamwork

team as family

The Bletchley Circle- Any (Jean McBrian, Lucy Davis, Millie Harcourt, Susan Gray)

Why I love it: Smart ladies! Who specialize in math! Well-defined characters with different strengths and ways of coping with a sexist society! Beautiful cinematography! Depicting internal thought processes is a challenge for visual mediums, so I love how the show depicts it as non-instantaneous, challenging, and also gorgeous. Teamwork!

Other notes: My gift may feature any characters from the tag set

Feel free to draw from the San Francisco spinoff too, if you’ve seen it (I have).

DNW: PWP (explicit content fine, but not as the sole focus), gore (canon-typical crimes fine, just not detailed descriptions of injuries), character bashing (characters can be products of their time and have the universal trait of thinking of themselves first without being 1-dimensional antagonists)

Fic ideas: I’d love a fic focusing on any combination of 1, 2, 3, or 4 of these ladies, as a character study, friendship and/or romantic and/or sexual relationship. Some ideas:

A character’s relationship to her skills, talents, the work she does.

Bletchley era: snapshot of the work they’re doing.

Bletchley era: what kinds of relationships are going on, when they’re able to visit each other more freely?

Bletchley era: did they ever meet Joan Clarke, or Alan Turing?

Millie seems to take Susan’s decision to get married instead of travelling the world very personally. Were they in a relationship at Bletchley? What happened?

How did Susan end up deciding to marry Timothy? Does she decide to put more effort into repairing her marriage, or not? Does she succeed? Feel free to diverge before their decision to move away, or to elaborate on it.

The Queen's Gambit- Beth Harmon

Why I love it: It keeps enough of the troubled genius trope to be fun for those of us who enjoy it, while deconstructing it enough to improve on it. She's a girl! Which impacts her story without being central to it! Her character struggles are a mix of inherent and a result of her experiences! She's talented, but does better when she admits she has to practice the parts that are less fun to her! And also when she learns to accept help! And she not only realizes drugs and madness are extraneous to her success, she does even better without them!

Other notes: My gift must feature all of my chosen character tags; or it may use exceptions I explain in the form: I have listed prompts for the backstories of Alma, Annette, and Alice Harmon- if you want to focus on one of these characters, using my prompt or not, I don’t expect Beth to also be a main focus.

The extent of my chess knowledge is the basic rules and a vague idea of the tournament system. Trust me, I will not know if you are fudging the details.

DNW: PWP (explicit content fine, but not as the sole focus), gore, character bashing, Beth/Borgov

Fic ideas:

tell me more about Annette Packer, that other girl at her first tournament? It must take a different type of courage to play against guys because you want to and should be allowed to and you’re just as good as them, instead of being able to prove that you’re superior.

tell me more about Alma? It sounds like she was also very good at something (piano), and that she had to give it up, and that that cost her.

Alice Harmon is clearly also a talented woman who's been through some stuff. What made her into the person we see?

was being banned from playing chess the extent of her punishment for the pill incident? How did she cope?

Beth clearly spends a lot of time alone reading chess books, while Jolene clearly has other friends to fill her time… what makes their bond special compared to the other girls at the orphanage?

Beth and Mr. Shaibel are both very much not people people; I adore their special friendship. Maybe fill in some gaps about their thoughts during their fight? Why didn't Beth pay back the $10?

for her chess friends/sometimes-lovers, I love domesticity, bonding over the shared love of the game, and the messiness of hurting each other without meaning to. More in-between moments of studying? Post canon or in an AU, does one of the canon pairings make it work? Or does Beth have more messy, complicated relationships like the young adult she is?

It’s a shame Beth’s one same-sex encounter directly preceded a disastrous game, but hey, she’s perfectly capable of making bad decisions without encouragement. I’d like to see Beth spending more time in Paris or globetrotting with Cleo, having a fun but dysfunctional time getting involved in her polyamorous bohemian lifestyle- if you can make it a function of these particular characters in this particular time of their lives rather than an inherently dysfunctional choice, even better.

Now that Beth is at the top of the chess world at barely 20… what does she do next? How does she stay sober? Or does she fall off the wagon a few more times?

This canon is ripe for a 5+1 or something with different character’s perspectives on themes like gender, chess, genius, and/or madness. Don’t worry, I won’t be put of if you go hard on stuff like this.

Just doing something fun with formatting to show us inside her head!

I saw a suggestion that characters and events could be metaphors for chess pieces or moves, and: yes, please! Don't worry, I'm not a lit professor or a chess player, I'll eat up whatever halfway plausible ideas you come up with.

The Strange Case of Starship Iris- Arkady Patel, Sana Tripathi, Violet Liu

Why I love it: Complex characters! Who are super important to each other! And who work together! On the work of making the universe a better place! With great world building about what differences there would and wouldn't be between different civilizations! Linguistics is key to unravelling the plot multiple times!

Other notes: My gift must feature one or more of my chosen character tags (giver's choice)- I'd equally enjoy a fic about the whole S1 gang, or any subset!

DNW: PWP (explicit content fine, but not as the sole focus), gore, character bashing

Fic ideas:

Everyone has such tantalizing backstories- I want all the details.

More cultural comparisons. Do the humans learn about a Dwarnian culture different from Krejjh’s? Does the nanobot swarm struggle to understand the concept? What's the story behind fish bullying?

Arkady- being gruff and not touchy-feely, getting embarrassed with Violet

Sana- The stress of feeling responsible for everyone, does she find other “comfort out there”? Arkady/Sana/Violet?

Violet- fighting through the fear, getting embarrassed with Arkady

Brian- How did he get from grad student to criminal underworld? What else does he uncover about aliens through linguistics?

Krejjh- cultural differences/similarities, being cute with Brian

How did Arkady & Sana become best friends?

Just the crew hanging out and enjoying each others' company. Maybe they solve a manageable problem, or celebrate a 22nd century holiday.

Alternately, putting them in dangerous situations where they have to worry about each other and protect each other.

0 notes

babyboiboyega · 3 years

Text

1.01: “Pilot” Pt. 2 (SPN rewrite)

Supernatural (Rewrite)

Pairing: none...yet

Episode: “Pilot”

Summary: two brothers witness their mother’s paranormal death and are trained to fight by their father, who aims to hunt down the thing that killed his wife. While on the hunt to find their missing father, they run into an old friend.

Rated TV-14 for horror; violence; gore; some disturbing content; sexuality; alcohol; TW: mentions of suicide

Word Count: 12.3k (ya girl went off)

Babyboiboyega’s SPN Rewrite Masterlist

Babyboiboyega’s Supernatural Masterlist

Babyboiboyega’s Masterlist of Masterlists

RECAP:

As she watched, Dean nodded in defeat, but not before raising his hand and flipping Ersa off. She pretended to not see it and stood up carefully. The sound of Sam’s laughter rang through the air once again and even lightened the atmosphere a little. She was glad for this; deep down, she knew that this would be one hell of a case. (End of Recap)

Ersa did a mental once-over as soon as she and Sam managed to right themselves on the bridge. No life-threatening injuries, no cuts or scratches, but she’d have one huge bruise on her side tomorrow morning. She subconsciously rubbed at it while they approached Dean who slammed the hood of the car down.

“Car all right?”

The mud that caked Dean’s entire body was more apparent under the single bridge light, and it made her cringe inwardly.

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, it seems all right now;” he turned away from the car, his eyes scanning the night around them and his voice echoing as he raised it. “That Constance chick- what a bitch!”

Without thinking, Ersa’s hand shot out, slapping Dean’s arm with an unpleasant sound, due to the mud that still slid off of his clothes. She immediately wiped her hand on her jeans, shaking her head at him.

“Great idea, calling the vengeful spirit a ‘bitch’. That’s a good idea, Dean. Maybe next time, she’ll decide to drive the car over the bridge; then you and the car will be matching.”

She could just make out his eyes rolling at her before Sam stepped in.

“Well, she doesn’t want us digging around, that’s for sure.”

The only reply he received was from Dean, who let out a heavy sigh and sat on the hood of the car. Sam glanced at his brother before joining him on the hood, then, he looked between Dean and Ersa with a questioning look.

“So where’s the trail go from here, genius?”

She knew that what Sam was referring to had more to do with their dad than what they had just witnessed, so she busied herself by pacing a small path in front of the brothers. Her thumbs were jammed into her back pockets and she simply listened...though there was really nothing to listen to.

Dean let another sigh and threw his hands up in exasperation, letting them smack against his legs as they came down.

There was a moment of silence where Ersa found herself wondering how their current case related to their dad’s disappearance. She doubted they would share anything personal with her, so using her deduction skills would have to do. It was just hard to do that when there was barely any information for her to deduct from. She briefly had the thought that maybe...just maybe...they were as clueless as her. Maybe they didn’t know where to start, so they simply took the first thing that related to their father in any way and ran with it...only now, it wasn’t getting any of them anywhere.

The sound of Sam’s sniffing brought her out of her reverie and she paused her pacing. She looked at him, ready to hear his thoughts on the next part of the plan. Instead, he simply looked at Dean, his face scrunching into a mildly disgusted expression.

“You smell like a toilet.”

*****

The first makings of light had begun to show across the sky when they finally decided to leave the bridge. Their actions of trekking down to the embankment to search for more signs of Constance had resulted in nothing but an annoying amount of mud on the soles of their shoes. It didn’t take much for them to hop back into the Impala and get going.

The journey back to town was...quiet, for the most part. If Sam wasn’t pointing out how badly Dean smelled or if Dean wasn’t complaining about mud being in places where the sun doesn’t shine, it was quiet. She doubted that their minds were quiet, though; it was something about the air surrounding them that made it known that they were all in their own heads at the moment.

It remained quiet the entire ride, and it remained quiet even as Dean pulled into the parking lot of the town’s motel. He reached forward, taking the keys out of the ignition.

“You two are more than welcome to come in,” Ersa’s eyes pointedly looked at Dean, “maybe clean up some, while we figure out what to do next. Maybe I can talk to Jeffrey about giving you a discount on the room.” She sported a lopsided smirk as she leaned forward, resting her folded arms on the back of the front seat.

They both turned to look at her before glancing at each other. Sam nodded his head slightly.

“That sounds like a sound plan. We need to get some rest, Dean; we’re no help to anyone if we’re all sleep-deprived.”

Both Ersa and Sam watched Dean and waited for his reply, for he sat motionless, looking out the windshield of the car. She could see his jaw working as he thought undoubtedly about how this decision would affect their progress on finding their dad.

Finally, he nodded and opened his door. He quickly turned to Ersa, his eyes narrowing.

“And how can you get us a discount? What kind of favor does this ‘Jeffrey’ guy owe you?” Near the end of his question, he raised his eyebrows suggestively. It made her roll her eyes as she opened the door and stepped out of the car in one fluid motion. She leaned down to talk through Sam’s open window.

“Just give me a minute to talk to him.” She straightened up and started to walk away but quickly turned, her eyes, again, finding Dean’s through the open window.

“And don’t be a weirdo when you come in!” She didn’t wait for his reply, but she thought she heard a snort come from him as she opened the door to the front office.

Not even 10 minutes later, Ersa was pulling the front office’s door open and motioning for Sam and Dean to come in. Through the windshield, she could see Dean’s face morph into a mildly surprised expression as they stepped out of the car. They quickly crossed the lot, joining her at the door.

“So, did we get a discount?” Sam questioned, grinning. Dean eagerly awaited her answer, and she could practically feel his gaze burning into the side of her face. She nodded with a self-satisfied smile.

“Of course, you got a discount. I told you I would get you one, didn’t I?” Ersa motioned for the brothers to follow her as she stepped back into the office, walking up to the front desk. The old man behind the desk, Jeffrey, was already watching the brothers before they had even stepped foot through the door. His eyes didn’t leave their figures, even as they finally approached the desk.

Ersa watched, slightly annoyed, as Dean took out a card and unceremoniously threw it on top of the motel’s booking registry. Dean made eye contact with Jeffrey.

“One room, please.”

Jeffrey picked up the card, shooting a glance full of suspicion Ersa’s way, before looking at the card in his hand. He regarded it for a moment before furrowing his eyebrows and looking at Dean and Sam.

“You guys having a reunion or something?”

Both of them looked at Jeffrey in silence for a second before Sam shook his head, a sheepish smile on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“That other guy, Bert Aframian. He came in and bought out a room for the whole month.”

Looks of realization crossed both Dean and Sam’s faces as his words registered within their minds. Dean turned to Sam, his lips pursed slightly, before turning back to face the counter. There was a thinly veiled tone of urgency as he stepped forward and questioned Jeffrey.

“What room was he staying in? He’s our...uncle and we’ve been looking for him for a while.” He added quickly upon Jeffrey’s suspicious gaze. He watched impatiently as Jeffrey looked over at Ersa and then back to him.

“He’s in room 702. You two can have room 717.”

He must have noticed the way Dean’s demeanor had changed, for he quickly put their room key on the counter before reaching below and completing the transaction. He had barely put the card back on the counter before Dean’s hand was taking a hold of both the key and the card, and turning to make his exit. Sam followed his brother after throwing a quick, but appreciative, smile Jeffrey’s way.

Ersa caught Jeffrey’s gaze as she started to walk after them.

“Thanks, Jeff! I owe you one!”

“Don’t mention it, kid! I think we’re even!” She smiled at his words and pushed through the door, finding that Sam and Dean were already a ways down the walkway. She had to jog to catch up with their fast-paced steps, but they had already stopped in front of a door; the room their dad had bought.

Dean nudged Sam who, without a word, glanced quickly around before kneeling in front of the lock and taking something from his pocket. Ersa leaned against the wall next to the door, her eyes quickly scanning the mostly empty parking lot around them. She only turned when the sound of the lock clicking filled the air.

She watched Sam as he gently pushed the door open, stepping inside. She followed, expecting Dean to be hot on her heels, only to turn and see his backside as he still surveyed the area. Her hand reached out, grabbing the collar of his jacket, and pulled him inside quickly. The door shut behind him with an ominous thud as they all took in the state of the room.

The room was dark, but there was enough light filtering through the curtains to illuminate its contents. The contents were...unsettling, to say the least. All three of them stared with open mouths at the room, none of them knowing where to start.

There were various kinds of newspaper clippings, old photos, sticky notes, and maps that spanned across the entire room, top to bottom. The bed was unkempt, the sheets messily thrown about, with an opened suitcase laying on its side on top of the bed.

Every desk and every chair in the room had a stack of papers, books, or both on top of it.

Ersa had no idea how long they had all been standing there before Dean finally moved. His steps took him to the nearest desk with a lamp on it, where he switched it on. The light illuminated a burger in an opened wrapper that looked to be half-eaten.

Something white and powdery caught Ersa’s gaze right as she was about to move, only for her to realize that it was salt. There was a half-circle that encompassed the door made of salt; she stepped over it with a wary gaze. She walked to the nearest wall where there were pieces of paper with handwriting hanging up as Dean’s groan filled the room.

“I don’t think he’s been here for a couple of days at least.”

Sam crouched, his fingers picking up salt and letting it filter through. He looked at Dean.

“Salt, cat’s-eye shells…”

Ersa turned, looking between both of the brothers. Her eyebrows furrowed as she came to the easiest realization ever. Sam spoke the obvious.

“He was worried, trying to keep something from coming in.”

Her gaze turned back to the wall she was previously looking at only to see Dean looking at the same wall. His steps followed along the wall before he stopped. Ersa’s steps stopped right beside him.

“You see what I see?”

Dean’s head nodded as he continued to read the notes on the wall. Sam’s faint footsteps could be heard as he joined them.

“What do you got here?”

“Centennial highway victims.” Dean sounded surprised while also sounding as if he expected this. He probably had; they were talking about their father.

“I don’t get it.”

William Durrell. Scott Nifong. James Parks.

As she looked at the pictures and newspaper clippings that showed the victims, she couldn’t help tilting her head in minute confusion. The only thing they had in common was the fact that they were all men and all of them were under a headline that read “missing”.

“I mean, different men, different jobs, age, ethnicities. There’s always a connection, right?”

At Ersa’s wordless nod, he continued on with another question.

“What do these guys have in common?” Without hesitation, Ersa spoke up, offering the only “connections” they had.

“They all have only two things in common. They’re all men...and they’re all missing. Are we missing something?”

She hadn’t noticed when Sam had walked away, but as she heard another light be clicked on across the room, she finally turned to see him staring intently at a series of photos hanging on the wall. She waited for him to say something, but only heard a light scoff at first. His head shook in disbelief.

“Dad figured it out.”

At his words, Dean’s head quickly whipped around, his eyebrows furrowing in question.

“What do you mean?”

Sam motioned to the photos, his eyes now meeting Dean’s from across the room. There was a look on his face that Ersa couldn’t decipher; it was between disbelief and mild annoyance. Hell, maybe it was both.

“He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She’s a woman in white.”

Dean turned to the wall with the missing men on it. Ersa could almost hear a smile in his voice as he spoke.

“You sly dogs.” He looked over his shoulder at both of them, raising his eyebrows.

“All right, so if we’re dealing with a woman in white, dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it.”

Ersa nodded in agreement, as it was another lesson from the Hunters101 handbook: if you have an angry spirit, you get rid of it by salting and burning the spirit’s bones. 95% of the time it worked, but there were a few exceptions. Like this one, for instance. In these types of cases-

“She might have another weakness.”

Dean answered quickly in his father’s defense as he walked to where Sam stood. His eyes quickly scanned the articles and photos in front of them.

“No, dad would want to make sure. He’d dig her up. Does it say where she’s buried?”

Ersa shook her head at Dean’s words, catching his attention. An expression crossed his face, but she continued on with what she was planning to say.

“We all know that sometimes that doesn’t work, Dean. Some spirits are bound here by their bones, some aren’t. If your dad burned her bones and she’s still up and kicking…” she let him fill in the rest on his own as her head tilted. He looked as if he agreed with her, but as if he didn’t want to agree with her. He looked to Sam to answer his question from earlier. Sam quickly looked back to the clippings.

“No, not that I can tell. If I were dad, though, I’d go ask her husband.”

“If he’s still alive,” Ersa added quietly, but she knew that both of them had heard her. She took Sam’s space as he walked away, her eyes landing on the picture of a grieving Joseph Welch. They gradually traveled until they stopped on the photo of “the white lady”. She had been a hunter for the majority of her life, but even now, certain things gave her chills. The black and white photo was grainy, but one could clearly make out the woman’s white dress and her haunted expression. Her eyes seemed completely black, although it was probably because of the grain.

“Alright, why don’t you see if you can find an address? I’m gonna get cleaned up.”

A sigh left Ersa’s mouth and she turned around to find Dean not too far from her shoulder. As she turned, he quickly took a step back, his eyes meeting hers. There was a slight grimace on her face.

“Finally. I’m starting to get used to the smell of a sewer mixed with lake water.”

He sent a coy smile her way, his eyes crinkling as he did so, before turning in the direction of the door. He couldn’t help glancing around him at the room once more as he left, though his movements stopped as Sam’s voice reached his ears.

“Hey, Dean, what I said earlier about Mom and Dad...I’m sorry.” There was a sincere apologetic expression on Sam’s face as he raised his arms, letting them fall to his sides after a second. He shook his head as if he was ashamed of himself, even in the slightest, but stopped as Dean held up a hand.

“No chick-flick moments.” There wasn’t an ounce of...anger, or even grudge in Dean’s voice as he replied. Instead, his eyes had softened while he looked at his brother.

Ersa simply watched the scene, feeling like an outsider looking inside. But she had no problem with it; she had realized pretty early on that there were going to be things she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, comment on when it came to the brothers.

Sam huffed out a laugh and shook his head.

“All right, jerk.”

Dean replied without missing a beat.

“Bitch.”

He turned and finally made his exit, while Sam and Ersa stayed in their spots. Sam chuckled softly and looked at Ersa, who in turn gave him a small smile. He stepped forward slowly, almost hesitantly.

“Ersa, look...you didn’t have to help us with finding our dad- or even this case- but you are helping us, so I just wanted to say thank you.” He let out a big breath as he finished, the corners of his mouth lifting. Ersa shook her head.

“Don’t mention it, Sam, seriously. I would’ve tried to help even if you didn’t want me to.” At this, both of them let out soft laughs before she continued.

“Catching up with...old friends, while hunting a spirit? What else would I be doing?” He nodded in understanding and opened his mouth to reply...only to pause when his eyes landed on something behind her. She turned, hearing Sam as he moved past her to whatever had caught his eye.

His hand hesitantly reached out and seized a picture that had been tucked in the side of the vanity mirror. She took a step forward and peeked around his shoulder, her eyes landing on the picture he held.

There were three people in the picture, and two of them were children. She instantly recognized all three of them, for John looked the exact same as he did the last time she had seen him, and...well...common sense told her that the two children had to be Sam and Dean. She stepped back, letting Sam be as he stared, unmoving, at the picture in his hands. Instead, she stepped over to where the “woman in white” photo was, her eyes trailing down to a stack of papers labeled the same thing. Her hand grabbed the papers and brought them closer to her face as she read through John Winchester’s notes, and she stayed in that position for an unknown amount of time.

At some point, Sam had walked over to the messy bed and sat on the edge of it. He was still staring at something in his hands, but she couldn’t see what it was. She could, however, make out the faint sound of a woman’s voice coming from the phone that was now pressed to his ear. Her eyebrows raised knowingly as she cast a glance his way, to which he replied to with a playful roll of the eyes. Her attention went from Sam to Dean as he finally emerged from the bathroom.

The first thing she noticed was that he was no longer covered in mud. His ruined clothes had been switched out for the clean clothes he had bought back in from the trunk of the Impala. Somehow, he had gotten all of the mud off of his brown leather jacket and he had dried it.

“Hey, man. I’m starving. I’m gonna grab a little something to eat at that diner down the street. You want anything?”

Sam glanced at his brother but didn’t move from his position. He offered a quick “no” before turning his attention back to the voice coming from his phone. Dean stopped at the door, his jacket hanging off of one shoulder. His eyebrows raised.

“You sure? Aframians buying.” Sam simply shook his head in response, before Dean turned his gaze to Ersa. She answered him before he could ask her.

“I’ll come with, I’m starving too. How does one find the time to eat being around you two?” Her words were joking, and they even prompted a small smile to curve Dean’s lips. He opened the door, waiting for her to leave first.

“Ah, you’ll get used to it.” His words almost made Ersa pause because…” you’ll get used to it”?

The words by themselves meant that she would be around long enough to get used to it. The fact that they had come from Dean meant...he saw her being around them long enough to get used to it. It certainly made her think.

She had expected to help them with the case, maybe even help with a few clues as to where their father was, and then be on her way. Not exactly because she wanted it to be that way, but because she couldn’t see Dean or Sam asking her to accompany them on the road.

The search for their father and the search for the thing that had killed their mother was something incredibly personal; something they may have wanted to complete on their own.

Besides, even if they did ask her to go with them...she didn’t know what her answer would be. She had gotten so used to being on the road by herself, that she had no idea if she wanted to change that.

She had to admit, it felt good knowing that she had two people watching her 6 on a case...but would that be enough to convince her to change how she operated?

His words were still bouncing around her mind when she remembered that she couldn’t get food without her wallet which was in her motel room. Her footsteps stopped, causing Dean to pause and turn around. He said nothing and waited for her to explain the cause behind her stopping.

“I gotta get my wallet from my room. I’ll meet you at the car.”

His mouth opened as if he were about to say something but thought better of it, and then he nodded and turned on his heel. She watched him walk away before turning and walking in the direction of her room.

Her thoughts were preoccupied the entire trek to her room and even while she rummaged around for her wallet. So preoccupied were her thoughts that she didn’t hear the bathroom door click open until she heard a footstep ring out.

Without hesitation, she reached for her waistband and whipped out the pistol, pointing it at the person who had dared break into her room. The person quickly raised their hands and took a step back. It took less than a second for her to realize who it was.

“Sam?” She instantly lowered her gun, her eyebrows furrowing. A deep breath went through her body, and she let it out quickly.

Her mouth opened to begin chastising him for breaking into her motel room and almost getting himself shot, but the words never came out because the expression on his face made her stop in her tracks.

Instead of setting her gun down, his expression just made her grip it tighter. She stepped forward quickly, eyes scanning his face.

“What? What’s going on? Where’s Dean?”

Instead of answering immediately, he quickly breezed past Ersa to the window of her room where his hand grabbed the curtains and pulled them aside slightly. His head turned slightly back and forth as he looked for...whatever he was looking for. The entire process made Ersa even more nervous while simultaneously annoying her.

A heavy sigh left her mouth.

“You wanna tell me what the hell is going on?” Her voice was sharp, and it finally prompted Sam to turn around and meet her gaze. His jaw was set as he looked at her.

“We have to go. The cops know that we aren’t Marshals. They picked up Dean and he told me to get you and…” he took a breath where his nostrils flared in barely concealed anger, “and to find dad.”

She cursed as she sprang into action, gathering the clothes that were strewn about her room and throwing them into her bag. She threw small items such as her toothbrush and toothpaste, haphazardly into her bag before hiking it onto her shoulder. It took her less than a minute to pack her bag and grab her notes on the case; then she was following Sam out of the door.

Their steps were hurried, yet silent, as they streaked across the parking lot. They both kept their eyes out for any uniforms as they reached both the Impala and Ersa’s car.

She unceremoniously threw her bag into the back of her car before running around the back and jumping into the driver's seat. The key was shoved into the ignition before she rolled down her window, looking at Sam through it. She couldn’t help glancing around the parking lot once more.

“What’s the plan?”

“Just follow me. I have an idea of where to go next.” Those were the only words exchanged between them before Sam was peeling out of the parking lot, Ersa not too far behind him. They were the only words exchanged, but Ersa had wanted to ask more. Specifically, ask about the plan to get Dean away from the police. Sam had only mentioned finding their dad without any word of finding and helping Dean. She only gripped the wheel tighter and hoped that they would finally find John Winchester wherever the hell he was and that they could come up with a plan to get Dean.

*****

When she had followed Sam to a rundown part of the town, she had held her tongue in asking him where the hell they were, and how they were going to get Dean back. Luckily for him, he had finally explained his thought process to her while leading her to a house only he knew the location of.

“So...you’re thinking Joseph Welch can lead us to your dad.”

A quick breath left his nose as he continued to walk across the muddy ground, his eyes scanning the property around them. His head shook slightly.

“It’s the only thing we have linking us to our dad. He worked the case, and in order to figure out the case, he had to have visited Joseph Welch...which we’re doing right now.” He spoke slowly, yet his words sped up as he neared the end of his sentence. His steps also sped up as he finally found the house that belonged to the man they were looking for.

Sam’s knocks sounded dull on the rotting wood of the front door, and it didn’t take long for a man to come to the door. Ersa instantly recognized the look of apprehension on his face as he opened it just wide enough to fit his body through. Sam didn’t let him get a word out before he was speaking in a soft, yet urgent, voice.

“Hi, uh, are you Joseph Welch?” His question prompted a short nod and a quick “yeah” to come from the man’s, Joseph’s, mouth.

“Great, do you mind if my partner and I ask you a few questions? We’re reporters for a new newspaper around this area.”

“It’ll be quick, we assure you. We wouldn’t want to take too much time out of your day.”

Ersa quickly added reassurance at the end as Joseph’s look of apprehension only increased, but at her words, he sighed heavily before stepping fully out of the doorway. Once his door was closed, he motioned for both Sam and Ersa to follow him.

“Firstly,” Sam quickly walked until he was taking steps alongside Joseph, then handing him the photograph Ersa had seen earlier in the motel room to him, “do you recognize the man in the middle? At all?”

Looking from her spot on the other side of Joseph, Ersa could see how Sam’s mouth twisted in impatience and anticipation as Joseph regarded the picture. Finally, the man nodded.

“Yeah, he was older, but that’s him. He came by three or four days ago, said he was a reporter.”

Their steps crunched along the gravel as they followed wherever Joseph led them, though they both kept an eye out. There were other run-down buildings surrounding them, though neither of them had seen another person. There was a spot in the middle of the grounds where a pile of...junk sat, untouched and rusting.

“That’s right. We’re working on a story together.”

Joseph looked between the two of them, the brim of his hat now shielding his face from the sun and from their eyes.

“Well, I don’t know what the hell kind of story you’re working on...the questions he asked me-”

“About your late wife, Constance.”

Joseph’s steps slowed down as if he were about to stop or as if Sam’s words almost made him pause, but he soon picked up once again. His features were covered, but not enough to hide the mildly annoyed twist of his mouth.

“He asked me where she was buried.” Both of them could tell Joseph’s true thoughts as the words left his mouth. He sounded tired, but as if even he knew that the question was a weird one.

Sam nodded once before leaning in his direction a little, his hands fidgeting with the picture of his father, him, and Dean.

“And where is that again?”

Despite her wanting to point out to Sam just how smooth his questioning was going, sarcasm fully intended, she listened closely for Joseph’s answer. She remembered how Dean had mentioned that their dad would have already salted and burned the bones, and she quickly hoped that maybe, just maybe, their dad hadn’t burned the bones and that it would be the quick and easy solution to the entire case. She tuned back in right as Joseph started answering Sam’s previous question.

“In a plot behind my old place over on Breckenridge.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed as he glanced at Ersa, who was already one step ahead.

“Mr. Welch, why did you move?”

This time, as his steps slowed, he did nothing to pick them back up. His face was now visible as he looked up at Sam, and both of them could see the underlying pain from a number of years appear on his face. He let out a shaky breath as he came to a full stop, Sam stopping right in front and turning around to face him.

“I’m not gonna live in the house where my children died.”

It was quiet for a few seconds, and Ersa had been ready to announce that their “interview” was over, but Sam asked yet another question.

“Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?” Joseph’s answer was quick and strong.

“No way,” his head shook as he continued, “Constance- she was the love of my life, prettiest woman I ever known.”

The corners of Sam’s lips curved into a faint smile.

“So you had a happy marriage?”

Ersa’s eyebrows furrowed as she tried to see the path Sam was taking with the questioning, but she didn’t have to try anymore after the last question.

Something changed after Sam’s last question. Instead of a barely noticeable smile/grimace being on the older man’s face, now his lips were pressed into a thin, straight line. He stared, unblinking, at Sam as his head nodded almost hesitantly. She could feel the air around them grow thick, and it was all because of Sam’s question.

“Definitely.” In an almost ironic way, his answer sounded so sure, yet Joseph’s head shook instead of nodding in confirmation. His eyes still hadn’t left Sam’s face, even as Sam stepped back.

“Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time.”

Sam glanced at Ersa before motioning with his head in the direction of the cars. As they both walked away from Joseph, she could feel his stare following them. It was only when she heard the faint sound of his footsteps retreating did she move her hand from her waistband.

“Call me paranoid, but I’m pretty sure he’s hiding something.” She kept her voice down and stepped closer to Sam. They looked at each other as Sam pursed his lips, his hands fishing in his pockets and pulling out the keys.

She was going to ask what the next plan of action was, that is until he abruptly turned, his gaze landing on Joseph’s retreating figure.

“Mr. Welch, you ever hear of a woman in white?”

The older man turned quickly, his voice carrying across the grounds.

“A what?”

“A woman in white or sometimes a weeping woman. It’s a ghost story. Well,” a huffed laugh left Sam’s mouth as he started walking towards Joseph, “it's more of a phenomenon, really. They’re spirits.”

Ersa simply leaned against the hood of her car, arms crossed, and watched. It had taken her a while, but she had a sneaking suspicion of where Sam was going. One thing she knew for certain was that Joseph had been lying about their marriage being a “happy” one. That one realization made her question the entire case.

“They’ve been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places in Hawaii and Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana.” His steps stopped right in front of Joseph, yet his words continued to flow.

“All these are different women, you understand, but all share the same story.” That simple sentence from Sam made all the sense in the world to Ersa, and her separated theories and guesses suddenly clicked inside her mind.

“Boy, I don’t care much for nonsense.” Joseph’s words were clipped, and it was clear that Sam had hit a nerve, as he eventually turned on his heel and tried to walk away.

“You see, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them.” Even from her distance, she could see Joseph’s shoulder rising and falling heavily as Sam’s words continued to hit him. Sam, on the other hand, was relentless.

“Basically suffering from temporary insanity, they murdered their children. Then, once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives.” As Sam spoke, Joseph had turned around. His eyes were wide enough to the point where Ersa could see the whites of them from her position. His mouth hung open in anger, fear...maybe both.

“So not their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways, and if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him, and that man is never seen again.”

Joseph’s bottom lip quivered as he spoke, his face twisting into one of horror.

“You think...you think that has something to do with Constance, you smartass?” He stepped closer to Sam, his voice increasing in agitation.

Ersa’s eyes narrowed as she once again reached for her waistband, her hand closing around the hilt of her pistol. She doubted the older man could take Sam, but you could never be too careful. She watched his actions intently.

“I mean...maybe...maybe I made some mistakes, but no matter what I did, Constance never would have killed her own children.” As he spoke, the agitation gradually faded until only a tone of grief took over his words. His voice broke as he continued to speak.

“Now, you get the hell out of here, and you don’t come back.”

He stared, unwavering, at Sam, taking deep and shaky breaths for a few moments before turning once again and beginning his short journey back to his home. Sam didn’t move until Joseph’s figure disappeared around the corner they had previously walked around, and only then did he turn and start walking back to the car.

Ersa’s eyes followed him as he approached the Impala where he paused, his hands coming to rest on the hood of the car. He had still yet to talk, so Ersa spoke instead.

“We know what connects the victims...now we just have to find out how to stop her. And-”

“And we have to get my brother back.” He interrupted her, his gaze meeting hers with a steely expression. She nodded in agreement, walking around to her driver’s side. A small smile curved onto her face.

“I think I have an idea.”

***

The sky had already been growing dark when they finally left Joseph Welch’s place, but now, she couldn’t see where the sky ended and where the road in front of her began. She could only see the rear of the Impala as it was lit by the headlights of her car.

While driving, her mind wandered to whether or not her plan would at least help Dean in any way. It wasn’t much they could do; the police were probably looking for them too. So, they did the next best thing, and all it took was one faux panicked phone call.

The shrill sound of her phone rang out through her quiet car and her hand reached for it quickly. She didn’t bother glancing at it before hitting the accept button and bringing it to her ear.

“Hey, Dean, Ersa can hear you too.” Sam’s voice left her phone’s speaker, sounding significantly less stressed than he had since the beginning of the day. She could only guess one reason for his change in demeanor.

“Fake 911 phone call, Sammy? That’s pretty illegal.” Dean sounded slightly impressed as he quickly spoke.

“You’re welcome. It was Ersa’s idea.” A smile could be heard in Sam’s voice, and she couldn’t help smiling at Dean’s pause.

“Well...I’ll have to treat you to a beer, then. Listen, we got to talk.” Ersa hadn’t been able to get a word in before all teasing left Dean’s voice and was replaced by a more serious tone. She could feel her smile fade slightly.

“Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she’s buried behind her old house, so that should have been dad’s next stop.”

It seemed that Sam hadn’t heard the urgency in his brother’s voice as he continued to speak quickly, letting him in on all of the connections they had made.

“Sammy, would you shut up for a second?”

“I can’t figure out why he hasn’t destroyed the corpse yet.” Dean’s voice raised, just to be heard over Sam’s excited rambling. When he finally found a moment of silence in Sam’s talking, he finally spoke.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. He’s gone. Dad left Jericho.”

She barely had enough time to express her own surprise before Sam was speaking once again, his own voice expressing enough surprise for both of them.

“What? How do you know?”

A small moment of silence passed and the sound of shuffling could be heard, presumably from Dean’s side, followed by his voice.

“I’ve got his journal.” This was the most amount of worry she had heard from Dean since she ran into them at the start of all of this, and she had a feeling that it wasn’t for nothing.

“He doesn’t go anywhere without that.” Sam’s voice sounded solemn as he replied.

“Well, he did this time.”

There was a bout of silence between all three of them before Sam broke it almost hesitantly.

“What’s it say?”

An agitated sigh left Dean’s mouth, though not directed at Sam before he replied.

“Same old ex-marine crap when he wants to let us know where he’s going.” She had a clue as to where, or rather who, the agitation was directed at. Ersa knew that this wasn’t the first time their dad had done something like this just by how they spoke about him. She spoke quickly when figured out the “crap” their dad had left them.

“Ex-marine? They’re probably coordinates.”

She knew without a doubt that they were coordinates; her own father had done the same in the past, so she personally knew how annoying all of the “ex-marine crap” could get. Sam heard her words and quickly asked another question relating to said coordinates.

“Where to?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

This time, Sam’s voice raised in clear annoyance. She had to pull her phone away from her ear, as his loud voice surprised her when he replied.

“Dean, what the hell is going on?”

Less than a second… that’s how long it took for both Sam and Ersa to be caught off guard, although both for different reasons.

One second she was waiting for Dean’s response, and the next she was yanking her wheel to the side in order to not collide with the Impala which had stopped abruptly.

She only had time to cover her face before she was being thrown forward, the seatbelt straining against her body, as her car instead collided with the side of a cliff. Her body rocked back harshly once the car came to a complete stop, and a groan instantly left her mouth.

She tried to open her eyes, but every time she did, her vision continued to blur even more. Finally, she settled on keeping her eyes closed and fumbling blindly for the seat belt latch. SHe couldn't help letting out a huge breath once the clicking sound of the seat belt filled the air.

Her phone had been flung somewhere across her front console, but she could still hear Dean’s voice as he called both her and Sam’s names. She couldn’t seem to suck in enough air to call back to him.

Her hunter’s instincts were screaming at her to get out of this compromising position so that she could, at least, have a fighting chance against whatever had just caused all of this to happen. It prompted her to crack open her eyes and to reach across the front seat’s armrest, aiming to grab the door handle and push the door open. Her entire body ached as she twisted her body to reach the door, but right as her fingers skimmed the handle, it was wrenched open quickly.

Her heart thudded quickly as a light was shone in her face, completely preventing her from seeing whoever had just opened the door. The light made her already sensitive eyes squint, yet she didn’t stop moving. Instead of reaching for the now open door, her hand reached for her glove compartment, which she could easily get to.

The cold steel of her backup had just skimmed her fingers when a familiar voice called out for her, making her pause in her movements.

“Ersa! Damn it, can you hear me? Come on, I’ll get you out!”

Sam’s voice sounded winded as if he had just been running, but she knew that it was because of something only he had seen.

The light disappeared, leaving only black spots swimming around her vision before Sam carefully reached into the car and grabbed her arms.

He started pulling and she had to bite her lip to keep from groaning out loud in pain. Instead of focusing on how she physically felt, she instead focused on helping Sam as much as she could. The sound of groaning metal-filled both of their ears as she used her feet to kick away from the driver’s side of the car. As soon as she was in a good enough position, Sam effortlessly pulled her out of the car, her body sliding across the glass-covered seats.

Her feet hit the ground with an audible crunch as they landed on the discarded pieces of glass that now littered the road around them. Chest heaving up and down heavily, Ersa’s eyes found Sam’s.

“You okay? Did you hit anything?” Sam’s voice was quick, and in her disorientated state, she had to focus more intently to understand the words he said. She wordlessly nodded, her shaky hand raising to touch the small trickle of blood that had been making its way down her temple.

Sam saw her nod, yet didn’t know which question she was referring to. He cursed silently as he remembered the entire reason this all had happened, and then he gently grabbed her elbow.

“Come on, we gotta get out of here.” He started to lead her back to the Impala, only to stop when he felt her resist just a little. He quickly turned, eyebrows furrowing as he looked at her.

Ersa’s face was scrunched up into an expression of pain, though Sam could easily make out her words. He supposed that was good, that her words weren’t slurred.

“My bags. I have to...get my shit.” Almost with a newfound strength, she pulled her arm out of his grip before turning, unsteadily, and quickly walking back to her car.

She reached the trunk of her car in a matter of seconds, though it was a little harder to pry open the busted trunk. Trying for a few seconds, she quickly found that she was in no condition to open the trunk.

Seeing what she had been trying to do, Sam quickly walked over, reaching his fingers through the gap of the trunk and pulling quickly. He only saw one bag in the trunk, so he quickly grabbed it and hoisted it on his shoulder. Meanwhile, Ersa had walked around the side and opened the back door, reaching in and seizing another bag.

She had barely pulled it out of the car when Sam was taking it from her, hauling it onto his other shoulder and grabbing her hand. This time, she willingly let him lead her to the Impala.

Their steps were quick, yet careful, as they reached the Impala. Sam threw her bags into the backseat while Ersa quickly slid into the front seat, Sam following not far behind.

No sooner than Sam’s door had closed did the interior of the car become freezing cold. They could see their breaths as they panted.

“Take me home.”

A woman’s voice sounded from the back of the car, making both of them jump. A glance in the rearview mirror confirmed both of their suspicions.

Constance Welch’s cold, sinister eyes stared back at them through the mirror. Ersa could’ve sworn that the longer they sat there, the colder the car became. Neither one of them dared to move a muscle.

“Take..me..home.” Her voice filled the space again, this time sounding heavier. Her eyes shifted from looking in the mirror to staring at the back of Sam’s head. His chest heaved before he spoke, his voice slightly wavering.

“No.”

Ersa internally braced herself for the blowback from Sam’s refusal, which came only a few seconds later.

The doors of the Impala locked without either Sam or Ersa touching anything. They both frantically pulled at the locks to no avail; they certainly weren’t going to unlock for them. While in the process of pulling at the locks, there was the unmistakable sound of the gear shifting, and then the tires were squealing against the road as the Impala took off.

The entire drive, both Ersa and Sam worked on trying to unlock or open the doors. They threw themselves against the door which wouldn’t budge; they used both of their hands to pull at the locks which didn’t move an inch. They both knew where Constance was taking them, yet they had absolutely no idea what would happen once they finally got there. One thing they did know was that Dean knew where they were headed and that he would either get there before them or after...whatever happened.

As they continued looking for ways to escape, the car finally slowed down while approaching an old, dark, and decrepit house. They could see that the windows no longer held glass, but were instead covered up by planks of wood. The front yard’s fence had missing or broken planks, the white paint now brown and dirty from the years of exposure.

The bright headlights of the Impala illuminated the house in front of them, however, as the car came to a stop and the lights cut off, the house blended in with the surrounding darkness. A quick glance in the rearview mirror showed that Constance hadn’t moved an inch.

“Don’t do this.” Sam’s voice was low, but Ersa could still hear the shakiness of it.

The air around them was completely still, yet, they could see Constance’s figure flickering right where she sat. Instead of sounding...well...dead, with no emotion in her voice, Constance now spoke with a sense of unadulterated grief.

“I can never go home.”

“...You’re scared to go home.” Ersa’s voice was strong and confident, yet she quickly turned around once the words left her mouth. In the time it had taken both of them to turn around to look at her, she had disappeared...only to appear in the seat between them a split second later.

A number of events happened simultaneously before either of them could react properly.

The air was knocked out of Ersa as she was pushed against the passenger’s side door by an invisible force. It pinned her there, prohibiting any movement on her part. She could only watch as Constance climbed onto Sam’s lap, pushing him harshly against the leather seat. Her hands trailed over his chest, all but lovingly, and Ersa swore that she could feel the faint sensation of nails raking down her own chest.

“Hold me. I’m so cold.”

Sam’s face twisted as he stretched away from her, his lips pulling back from his teeth as he sneered. Her hands continued to travel the span of his chest while she watched him squirm in pleasure. Ersa’s leg twitched as she continued trying to move just one of her limbs, but whatever had a hold on her had no intention of letting go.

“You can’t kill me. I’m not unfaithful.” He spoke through clenched teeth, but his words were clear as day. He knew Constance heard him, for her face morphed into one of pure anger, but even then he didn’t stop.

“I’ve never been.”

His groans rang out as she leaned down quickly, setting her mouth just inches from his ear. When she spoke, both Sam and Ersa could hear her words as if she yelled them.

“You will be.”

Ersa’s attempts grew in desperation as she watched Constance take Sam’s face in her hands only to lean down and connect her lips with his. She passionately kissed him, but Ersa was now focused on Sam’s hand reaching for the keys in the ignition. She immediately knew what he was trying to do, and she doubled her efforts in trying to move.

Just as the tips of his fingers brushed against the keys, Constance quickly sat up, her eyes flashing. She flickered out of sight for a second before reappearing, though her face was replaced with one that most likely showed how she actually looked, under her “lady in white” facade.

The car was quiet save for Sam’s pants as they both looked around, searching for any signs of Constance. Their eyes connected and Ersa opened her mouth to ask where the hell she had gone, when “she” appeared once again.

Sam’s screams of pain filled the entirety of the car as Constance’s fingers made contact with his chest. Ersa’s voice joined his, instead yelling at the angry spirit. It was all she could do, send threats towards the woman, as the more she struggled the harder the force pressed against her.

“Look who’s unfaithful now, bitch!” Ersa yelled over Sam’s screams. Her words were jarring enough, even to the spirit, that it made Constance stop. Her head quickly turned to face Ersa, fury flashing in her eyes. Constance looked just long enough for Ersa to notice a familiar figure through the foggy, driver’s side window. The figure was quickly approaching, and she could recognize what they held in their hands.

Taking the spirit’s small slip in concentration, Ersa quickly threw herself to the side, right before the driver’s side window exploded.

Shots rang out and she felt and heard the glass of the window behind her shatter. Her hands instantly flew to cover her face, feeling glass hit the backs of her hands.

Her eyes were closed, but she could hear a high pitched hiss ring through the air, and it sounded right before Sam’s screams died down.

She opened her eyes, instantly looking for any signs of Constance, but found none. Instead, she found Dean outside of the car, his gun lowering as Sam finally sat up.

Still panting, Sam reached for the keys and twisted them in the ignition. He spoke over the loud sound of the Impala’s engine, his voice venomous and harsh.

“I’m taking you home.”

He shifted the car into the correct gear before pressing the accelerator to the floor. The lurching of the car caused the tires to burn out on the dirt as it shot towards the house.

Ersa had just enough time to turn herself around in the seat and brace herself before the car was crashing through any and everything in the house.

Both of them were tossed around as the car rolled over various types of wood and furniture before coming to a complete stop, throwing the both of them forward. Hurried footsteps approached them from behind, a voice calling out for both of them.

“Sam! Ersa! SAM!”

“Here!” Sam managed to get out a response, yet Ersa leaned against the door, trying but failing to catch her breath.

A quick thought shot through her mind, reminding her that she had been a part of two car crashes in the last 15 minutes. It had been one hell of a day.

“You okay?” Dean’s voice was right beside her ear as he leaned through the busted window of the passenger’s side. His hand landed on her shoulder, gently shaking her. She only groaned a curse word in response to his question.

“I think.”

The sound of the door being wrenched open followed Sam’s words, and she only realized it was her door when she started to lean out of the car. Dean’s hand reappeared on her shoulder, keeping her from hitting the floor but pulling her out of the car.

He waited until her feet were on the ground before letting go and turning to his brother.

“Can you move?”

“Yeah, help me.”

Her attention, which had previously been on hoping that she hadn’t sustained a damn concussion, was caught by the sound of glass slowly breaking and things being moved. She could hear Dean helping Sam out of the car, yet her gaze stayed focused on one thing.

Constance held a broken frame, the corners of an old photo peeking out from under it, and she stood staring at it. Even while Sam’s groans filled the air, she kept her focus on the picture in her hands...until she didn’t.

The sound of the Impala’s door closing caused her eyes to slowly travel up before landing on the three of them. Her eyes made a chill travel down Ersa’s spine, and she could see Dean and Sam freeze in their spots.

She continued to stare at them as she threw the frame to the ground, not caring where it landed, before quickly stepping to the side. A long dresser flew across the floor towards them, pinning them to the Impala in a matter of seconds.

Groans fell from three of their lips as they used everything they had to try and push the dresser away. While they tried and failed miserably, Constance took one step but ended up right in front of them.

Her hand raised towards them but paused on its ascend as light appeared around them.

The old bulbs of the house crackled as they flicked on and off, and the sight was soon joined by the sound of running water.

The sound came from the water running down the steps of the staircase, and just as it had gained their attention did it gain Constance’s attention. Most shockingly, her eyes softened as she walked over, or flickered over, to the base of the steps. Her eyes were focused on something just out of their sight.

“You’ve come home to us, mommy.”

Their voices were soft, but...didn’t sound right. Instead of sounding like innocent children, their voices were filled with...vengeance, when speaking to their own mother.

Out of thin air, two young boys appeared behind Constance, prompting her to turn quickly. They looked up at her as her lip quivered, and then they lunged forward...to hug her. The second their arms wrapped around her waist, her head was thrown back and she let out a shrill scream.

The spot where Constance and her two children once stood was overcome by a barrage of lights. The ground shook beneath their feet, and despite being inside of a house, the wind whipped around them enough to where Ersa had to push her hair back as her curls became stuck in her mouth or on her eyelashes.

The light seemed to grow and expand, Constance’s screams still ringing out, until it just as quickly closed back in on her and her children. As the light shrunk, Constance could faintly be seen disappearing into the floorboards, her children still hanging onto her waist.

Finally, as she disappeared, the light dimmed completely. All that was left was a small puddle of water in the same spot she had been standing.

Her screams seemed to echo in their ears as they stared at the spot she had previously been standing. Ersa didn’t know who moved first, but once they did it prompted her to finally move.

Her hands found the edge of the dresser, and with the help of Sam and Dean, they were able to effortlessly push it away from them. It crashed against the floor, smashing small trinkets and glass beneath its heavy frame.

The three of them tentatively walked over to the spot, stopping right as the tips of their boots brushed it. They all looked at it, deep breaths wracking their frames.

“So this is where she drowned her kids.”

Sam nodded, his shoulders rising as he took a deep breath.

“That’s why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them.”

Dean turned to his brother, his eyebrows raising slightly. The corner of his mouth turned up into a small smirk as he began to walk past him.

“You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.” As he passed him, he raised his hand, fondly slapping Sam on the chest. A half pained, half-humorous laugh left Sam’s mouth at his brother’s actions.

“I wish I could say the same for you.” Sam turned, his hand laying gently over his chest.

“What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?”

“You could have shot my ass.” Added Ersa, her eyes following Dean’s figure.

Dean’s answer was quick as he turned around, his finger raising to point at both Sam and Ersa. There was now a full grin on his face as he spoke.

“Hey, I saved your ass- both of your asses.” He paused as he walked to the front of the Impala, bending at the waist and scrutinizing the metal.

“I’ll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car, I’ll kill you.”

A quick laugh left Ersa’s mouth, causing both brothers to quickly look at her. She shook her head as she walked right up to Dean, her finger poking his chest.

“You know who’s car is screwed? Mine. It’s at the bottom of a cliff, totaled. Your car can take a few bumps and scratches and broken windows. After all, you were the one who thought of the genius idea to shoot through the goddamn windows at a goddamn ghost.” Dean’s eyes widened more and more as she continued to talk. His eyes glanced down at her finger where it still rested against the middle of his chest, before looking back up at her. She should’ve known what was coming when his smile widened.

“Yeah...but I saved your asses.”

Ersa brought her hand back only to shoot it forward against his chest, causing him to quickly let out a breath of air. She stepped around his figure to the door of the Impala before opening it. However, she stopped before getting in and turned to the brothers.

“And you, Sam Winchester,” Sam’s eyes widened in preparation as he waited, “you owe me. Out of all of the car crashes I’ve been in today, YOU caused both of them.”

She enunciated the end of her sentence by slamming the door after getting in.

It was silent as the boys looked at each other, and she hoped that they knew that she was only half-joking when she “yelled” at them, though she didn’t have anything to worry about after their quiet laughs could be heard.

*****

As soon as Dean had maneuvered the Impala out of the wreckage of the house, they had hit the road.

She couldn’t help thinking about the fact that they had never found the whereabouts of the multiple men who had gone missing, and now, despite them knowing the case was solved...the case would never be truly solved for the loved ones of those who had gone missing. She wondered what kind of hunters did that make them, just focusing on getting rid of the monster.

Ersa brought this up to the brothers, and Dean had simply replied “we’re not perfect. We do what we can, and then we keep on moving.”

She hadn’t expressed anymore of her thoughts as they continued to drive down the road, yet she had a lot more.

Instead of focusing on how they had left things in Jericho, she now thought about how Dean hadn’t asked if she wanted to be dropped off anywhere or if she had anywhere else to go. He had simply asked her if she needed anything before they got on the road, to which she told him that she didn’t.

The thought that she was in for the long haul excited her while simultaneously making her nervous. They would all have to learn how to trust that the others had their back. Scratch that; she’d have to learn how to trust that they had her back, and they had to learn the exact same.

All of these busy thoughts, however, were pushed to the back of her mind as Sam took out a map and their dad’s journal.

She could barely see anything in the darkness of the car, though that changed when Sam switched on a flashlight. Leaning forward, she rested her forearms on the back of the front seat, peering over Sam’s shoulder.

“Okay, here’s where Dad went.” He had found the coordinates rather quickly and now he pointed at them, their dad’s journal open on the seat beside him. The wind blew through the broken windows and he had to place the flashlight between his shoulder and cheek, his other hand holding the map down.

“It’s called Blackbottle Ridge, Colorado.”

Her eyebrows raised briefly; she hadn’t been to Colorado, yet.

Dean nodded, his gaze focused on the road ahead of them.

“Sounds charming. How far?” It took Sam a few seconds, but he finally replied.

“About 600 miles.” If possible, her eyebrows show up even higher. Were they about to drive, non-stop, for 600 miles? She let out a quiet breath. Good thing she had the entire backseat to herself.

Dean glanced over at Sam quickly, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“If we shag ass, we can make it by morning.”

In a second, with one sentence, the atmosphere of the car became tense. It took her back to the moments on the bridge where they had their argument.

Sam’s mouth opened but no sound came out; he looked as if he were trying to figure out the right words to say.

“Dean, um…” He trailed off as Dean continuously glanced over at him. Dean’s expression didn’t change much, but from the small beam of the flashlight, Ersa could see a faint frown turning down the corners of his mouth.

“You’re not going.” Dean’s response wasn’t a question, but more of a realization. A realization Sam only confirmed as he spoke.

“The interviews in 10 hours. I got to be there.”

Sam spoke with urgency, hoping to get his point across to his brother who looked away from him in disappointment. Dean pressed his lips into a thin line as he nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I’ll take you home.” A humorless laugh left Dean’s mouth as he once again focused his attention on the road, no longer sending glances Sam’s way.

Although the conversation had ended, Ersa didn’t want to move. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the two brothers, but she kept her mouth closed. The last thing she needed to do was insert herself into their family matters despite knowing exactly where the tension was coming from. It hadn’t been too long ago that she went through the same thing with her own mother.

With a soft click, Sam turned the flashlight off, throwing all of them back into the darkness. His head turned to his open window, and she could faintly hear the sound of Dean’s hands tightening on the leather wheel. She took it as her cue to slowly sit back in her seat, internally thankful for the soft rock music coming from the radio as it filled the tense and palpable silence.

It stayed that way the duration of the drive.

*****

The Impala rolled to a stop in front of a building that had lights in front of it. The lights woke Ersa, although she wasn’t fully asleep. She could tell by the look of it that it was a college dorm building as she picked her head up from where it rested against the window.

Everything was still for a few seconds, all three of them just sitting there in silence. Then, Sam moved.

He opened the door, quickly stepping out and closing it behind him. His voice carried through the open window as he leaned down, looking at Dean.

“You'll call me if you find him?” Dean’s response consisted of him simply nodding, his facial features set into an unreadable expression. Sam tried again.

“Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?”

“Yeah, all right.” His tone matched his expression when he replied to Sam, nodding once.

Sam, seeing that that was all he was going to get from his brother, tapped the frame of the car twice before straightening and turning to Ersa. She had a small grin on her face.

“It was great seeing you again, Sam. Good luck with your interview.”

The smallest grin curved his lips and he actually stepped forward, arms opening to embrace Ersa. She met him halfway, wrapping her arms around his torso gently, before pulling back after a few seconds.

“It was good seeing you too, Ersa. I’m..uh, I’m sorry about the crash. Both of them.” He grimaced, but it only made Ersa’s grin widen a little. She shrugged one shoulder.

“Ah, it’s okay. You’ll pay me back, someday.” She raised her eyebrows in faux warning and he huffed out a laugh before turning on his heel. She watched as he started to walk away, but he didn’t get far.

“Sam.”

Dean’s voice caused him to quickly turn around, and he waited expectantly for what Dean had to say.

“You know, we made a hell of a team back there.”

Sam nodded, the grin appearing on his face once more. He regarded both Ersa and then his brother fondly before replying.

“Yeah.”

The sound of the door closing echoed throughout the night as Ersa climbed into the front seat. Dean glanced at his brother once more before turning the key in the ignition and slowly rolling off. Ersa could see Sam’s retreating figure as he looked after the car, and then she could see as he finally turned and headed into the building.

The car was entirely silent, not even the radio made a sound, as Dean drove off. Chancing a quick glance over, she could see his jaw working. She thought about the perfect time to say something, and what to say when the time came. She doubted he wanted to make small talk at this moment.

Not even 5 minutes had passed when Dean suddenly jerked the wheel to the side, effectively turning the car around. The action surprised Ersa and she quickly grabbed onto the seat beneath her. Her head whipped in Dean’s direction as he pressed the car to go faster despite the already short distance.

“Uh...Dean? What’s going on, bud?” His voice was tight as he answered her, his hands gripping the wheel tight.

“Something’s not right.” Her eyebrows furrowed at his incredibly vague answer, and she prepared herself to ask for more specifics...until something caught her eye.

As they grew closer to the building they had just dropped Sam off at, there was the unmistakable sight of smoke billowing towards the sky accompanied with the smell of fire.

Without asking, she knew that Dean had meant that something wasn’t right...with Sam. It became clearer the moment she saw the smoke.

Her eyes widened, and they both gaped at the smoke as they grew closer. Finally, the car came to a stop.

The car had barely come to a complete stop before Dean was throwing open his door and running straight for the building. Ersa wasn’t far behind, but instead of following him through the doors, she stayed out front. She could only look helplessly up at the cloud of smoke erupting from a window of the building.

Out of her peripheral, she could see a person running up, their expression mirroring hers. She made sure her voice was heard as she yelled at them.

“Call 911! There’s a fire!”

Her heart sped up the longer Dean and Sam were in the building, and right as she stepped forward to go in after them, the doors burst open. A number of people ran out of the building, and among them were Sam and Dean.

She felt a huge breath leave her body, though it did nothing to calm her nerves as she realized that Dean was practically carrying Sam’s weight. By now, the students from other dorm buildings were starting to crowd around, their terrified but excited voices filling the night. Their voices were accompanied by the sound of sirens as the fire department and police finally pulled onto the sight.

Her eyes scanned both boys as they grew closer to her, looking for any signs of injury on either of them. She was satisfied at seeing that neither of them was hurt, but her satisfaction soon dwindled into worry upon seeing the look on Sam’s face.

When they had first exited the building, she had seen Dean practically carrying Sam; now, Sam was walking perfectly on his own, though his face was downturned.

He walked right past her and continued on until he reached the Impala where he instantly went to the trunk of the car. Her eyes followed his actions before turning to find Dean.

She saw him at the very back of the crowd, and she wasted no time in walking up behind him.

“What happened in there?” She kept her voice low, but she knew Dean could hear her. Without looking her way, he replied just as quietly.

“The son-of-a-bitch of killed our mom...just killed his girlfriend.”

She didn’t dare say anything because she didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry” simply wouldn’t cut it in this situation. Her shoulders sagged as she shook her head. She turned around after having watched enough of firefighters entering and exiting the building and walked back to the Impala with Dean not too far behind her.

When she reached the car, she went and stood beside Sam. She quietly watched as his hands worked through the motions of loading a shotgun. Dean stopped on his other side, simply looking at his younger brother.

The flashing red and blue lights hit Sam’s face just enough to show the tear tracks running down his face, and the sight made Ersa’s chest tighten in sympathy.

But she knew that he didn’t need sympathy. She could tell just by the hard set of his jaw and the look in his eyes as he glanced between her and Dean.

Sam sniffed and a sigh went through his body as he threw the shotgun into the trunk of the car.

The night around them was alive and active, though the three of them only had one thing on their mind as they all regarded the trunk full of hunter’s gear. Sam’s voice was hoarse but didn’t waver once.

“We got work to do.”

Oh my gooDNESS. I can’t believe that I actually rewrote the entire first episode. It may seem like a big deal some, but I have a problem with sticking through to the end with some things, and I’m just proud of myself for actually rewriting an entire episode.

ANYWAYS-

I hope you all liked this. second part to the “Pilot” episode! I’m planning on updating every (or every OTHER) Thursday!

Please like, reblog, and/or comment (seriously, when you comment it makes me smile so gotdAMN HARD)

I hope y’all are staying safe out there!

31 notes · View notes

lovinglokilaufeyson · 4 years

Text

188 - S.R

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader, Derek Morgan x Penelope Garcia

Warnings: Gore, crime, kidnapping, mentions of sexual assault, little bit of a sexual scene at the end

Wordcount: 3727

Summary: Hotch calls you in for a mission. However, your intelligence may prove as a downfall, as Dr. Reid becomes insecure, comparing himself to you. This leads to a break in the case, but is it too late?

A/N: So, once again, it looks like I’m switching things up just a bit. Let me know what you guys think! I love doing multiple different types of fanfiction, with many different characters. I will of course, still work on my Loki and Draco stuff. I also noticed that “Naughty” has reached over a thousand notes! Absolutely insane, guys. Thank you for all the love. I’ve now entered college and things are a lot different than when they were in high school. I’m a lot more invested in doing well in my classes, and it’s definitely been a large adjustment for me. Thank you all so much for your patience with everything. I also recently checked my inbox and found so much love as well as some requests that I will be working on. I’ve had quite a bit of extra time as I was exposed to COVID and I am currently in quarantine housing at my university. I’ll try to get them all done soon! Hope you enjoy this change of pace.

“For this case,” Aaron Hotchner explained “we’re going to need all hands on deck. We’re leaving in the morning.” Hotch knew exactly who to bring in. The newest graduate of the academy - he had worked with her before, and she was extremely in tune with criminology, profiling, and she had several doctorates. However, he was nervous about how one Spencer Reid would feel about one piece of information. She had an IQ of 188. If Spencer were to find out this information, he would feel - inadequate. But Hotch knew that Y/N L/N was vital to this case. They were looking for a replacement for JJ’s maternity leave. She could be the perfect fit - at least for a while. He had made his decision. Picking up the phone, he dialed her number.

You walked nervously into the BAU for what seemed like the millionth time. It was only 32, in all actuality. You’d only been asked to assist in a handful of cases, you had just graduated the academy and were therefore deemed “ready” only a few months ago. You were born ready, you thought. You took snapshots in your mind as you entered the building. You could easily tell you the exact differences between the surroundings on this day in comparison to the first 31 times. There was a cup of utensils on the very front desk starting on October 26th of last year to today. You could tell anyone exactly how many pencils and pens were there each time - including what color. October 26th - 5 black pens, 6 blue pens, and 3 pencils.

You shook your head. There were more practical uses for your “genius” brain. “Stop it, Y/N” you told yourself. You entered the elevator, when you were stopped by a tall, lanky boy about a few years older than you. He was quite attractive, but you were awkward in these situations. When you were simply playing a part, it was a lot easier to “play” guys. However, when you were actually attracted to one? You couldn’t handle yourself.

You let him in, immediately asking “what floor?” “7th” he answered, neglecting to make eye contact. However, upon glancing at the buttons, he realized that you too, were heading to the floor of the BAU. He couldn’t stop himself from making a slightly rude remark - accidentally, of course. “Do you have the wrong floor?” “Shit,” he thought to himself, facepalming internally. “There’s a cute girl, Reid. Don’t be an idiot.”

“Oh, the BAU is on the 7th floor - right?” You responded quickly, to which he nodded. “My bad.” “No worries” you noted, kindly.

The boy was wearing a maroon colored cardigan, a light blue button up, a navy tie, and black slacks. He had a brown over-the-shoulder bag at his side, and he twittled his thumbs quickly. “Was he nervous?” You asked yourself. Or bored? You couldn’t get a proper read on him. He made you feel - odd. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it. You couldn’t wait to get out of that elevator.

After what seemed like days (26 seconds) you were out of the elevator. Thankfully, Agent Hotchner was there to greet you immediately. “Agent Reid, I see you’ve met Y/N L/N. She’s assisting on this case.” Hotch nodded at Reid, who had finally made the connection. “Not properly, but it’s lovely to meet you, Y/N.” Spencer made a point to smile at you, who came off as young and naïve. You had to have been a few years younger than he, Spencer thought.

Hotch lead you into the debriefing room, where you met one Penelope Garcia. You immediately smiled at her presence, Penelope seemed to light up a room with no effort. “Oh, she’s a cute one, isn’t she!” She remarked, smiling at you. From a few feet away, in the doorway, Derek Morgan stared in amazement at Garcia’s kindness towards the new member. Derek then approached, going to shake your hand with ease. Afterwards, he let his hand travel to squeeze Penelope’s waist, teasingly. He lightly kissed her cheek. “Alright, you two. I need to debrief Y/N on this case. Go ahead and - do what you need to - elsewhere, please.” Hotch shook his head. The pair headed towards the door, where Morgan placed a large slap on Penelope’s ass. You winced, slightly uncomfortable with the sexual gesture. “Don’t worry - they specialize in different things here. Derek’s out on the field, while Penelope works as a technical analyst.”

You sighed in relief. You never did take well to sexually affectionate partnerships. You always felt - awkward. You never knew how to handle it. You assumed, however, that other people felt the same way. Hotch began going over the case, and you seemingly remembered every single detail. 3 police officers have been kidnapped in Boise, Idaho. You remembered the locations, the appearances, the crime scenes, and the badge numbers of the officers. In your head, you made a map of the unsub’s comfort zone. You began thinking of what the officers were kidnapped for - no dead bodies had appeared yet. Each were physically fit, attractive, between 25-30 years of age. There’d be more time to think of theories, you thought to yourself. Hotch, now exiting the room, gave a quick “wheels up in 30.”

You took this as a signal to leave the room as well, leaving the file that Hotch gave to you on the desk. Soon, you’d both realize, that this was a mistake. Upon entering the plane, you snuggled soundly into a seat, hoping to get some rest before arriving in Boise. They had quite a while before arriving. You calculated, with turbulence and other factors, as well as averages, that they would be there in roughly 6 hours and 12 minutes. Your to-go bag was safely stashed in the backside of the plane for now.

However, you forgot one key detail. The team was heavily up for a discussion with regards to this unsub and their victims. In order to prove yourself, you thought, providing information to the conversation was incredibly important. Even in your sleep, however, you could probably retain key points from the conversation. Nonetheless, you sat at attention, ready to discuss this police kidnapper. Suddenly, the pilot’s voice came over the intercom. “Secured for takeoff, our approximate flight time is 6 hours 15 minutes.” You couldn’t help yourself. “Actually, with turbulence, average flight times, and wind speeds right now, it should be more like 6 hours and 12 minutes.” You cursed yourself immediately after the words came out of your mouth. Prentiss, who had not yet introduced herself, smiled and muttered a quick “Slow down there, Dr. Reid.” When she looked over at Reid, he looked relieved, as if you beat him to it.

Prentiss now went to greet the you, apologizing for not doing so sooner. “Emily Prentiss,” she reached out her hand. You smiled, shaking Emily’s hand. “Y/N L/N. Lovely to meet you.” Hotch came out with several files, all pertaining to this case. You had worked with kidnapping of law enforcement several times, which is why Hotch felt you would be such an asset to the team’s efforts.

“Alright, let’s begin.” Hotch sat down. Opening his file, he began to look over the scenes where officers were taken. “Each of the men were taken on duty. There’s no evidence of them being taken, besides the fact that they left their patrol cars out in the open. The keys were thrown out beside each one of the cars. No blood spatter at the scenes. They may still be alive.”

“Maybe the unsub is a rejected or former cop?” Prentiss suggested, and the team nodded in agreement. “These police men are some of the most successful and attractive in the field. It’s possible that this unsub feels “less than” them.” Morgan added. Turning to a screen showing Garcia, “Baby girl. I need you to search for fired, laid off, or rejected police officers from the Boise Police Department. Check for within the last month first - that could have been our unsub’s trigger.” “On it, sugar!” Garcia signed out, ready to search for whatever was out there.

“Reid, Derek, and Y/N, head to the abduction sites to analyze once we land. Prentiss and I will meet Rossi at the station to speak to the families, as well as any other officers that were on duty at that time.” You were excited, hearing Rossi’s name. You had met and worked with him several times before, and were a bit of a fan. Not that you’d ever admit it.

“The faster we build this profile, the higher our chances of saving these men.”

By the time you arrived in Boise, it was mid-afternoon. The first scene was relatively untouched, a parking lot in downtown Boise. Owen Thomas, 24, was on duty there, and was kidnapped around 10:30 pm. At this time, he stopped responding to any calls. You suddenly spoke: “It’s an obvious blitz attack. If our theory is correct, then the officers wouldn’t have responded positively to the unsub.” “Y/N’s right. These officers probably don’t have a good history with someone rejected from the force. It could’ve been someone they went to the academy with.” Prentiss agreed.

Prentiss met up with Hotch during break, which left you and Reid. You were nervous. He made you nervous - more so than usual. You both weren’t very hungry, and decided a small coffee shop would be the best place to go. “So, did you just do generals at the academy?” Reid asked, and you smiled, nodding politely. “I’ve always found it difficult to only be interested in one thing. That’s why I’ve found myself pursuing so many different paths.” You stated. Reid stood in awe for a moment. He honestly felt the exact same way as you. “You enjoy aerodynamics?” He asked, and you nodded once more. He was obviously referring to the estimations you made on the plane’s route. “Yes, but that’s not one of my main studies.” Reid looked at you, perplexed, almost. “I have Ph.Ds in criminology, medical science, medicine, and modern languages. Two bachelors, psychology and engineering. I’m looking into another one as well.”

Reid sat dumbfounded. He felt, for the first time in his life, less than someone else. Is this why Hotch called her in? As his replacement?

“That’s cool - I have three doctorates and B.As.” You looked at him in amazement, now. It wasn’t everyday that you met someone as young as you with roughly the same amount of knowledge. “What are they in, Reid?” You asked him. “Ph.Ds in chemistry, engineering, and mathematics. B.As in psychology, sociology, and philosophy.” “Wow, that’s amazing.” He felt like you were teasing him, in a way. You weren’t, in all actuality. Reid just couldn’t seem to rationalize his emotions. You had a nice time with Reid. You just weren’t entirely sure if the feelings were reciprocated. Reid excused himself to the bathroom, where he quickly called Garcia. “Garcia, I need everything you have on Y/N.”

Spencer, after being teased relentlessly by Garcia, would soon discover a lot about you. You were born in Y/H/T (your/home/town) and you studied, at a very young age, at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. You received perfect scores on both your ACT and SAT, and you had an IQ of 188.

You studied last crime scene along with Prentiss and Reid, though it was getting dark. The most fresh, you noticed that some dirt nearby looked as if a body had been drug through it. This unsub, despite going through months of relentless physical and mental training - could not fully lift up the body of any of the victims. Instead, they had to be dragged to where the unsub wanted. None of the victims were presumed dead, which means the unsub was using them for something. Reid had disappeared, supposedly off into the crime scene further.

“Prentiss, I think we’re missing something.” You announced, and she nodded, agreeing. “Do you think the unsub could be a woman?” Her eyes widened, but she nodded. You immediately called Garcia. “Garcia. I was wrong. I was convinced by the overwhelming statistics that this unsub was a male. I think this unsub’s a woman. Look for woman in the area that recently lost family members, possibly an officer and a child.” “On it, sista. I’ll hit you back.”

In the meantime, Prentiss reached out to Derek, Rossi, and Hotch to discuss the profile. They all agreed with you wholeheartedly. However, there was something on your mind. Reid. He had completely disappeared from the crime scene. You were worried. You tried calling his cell, which you quickly learned, was a failure. The call went straight to voicemail. God. No. God fuck. Not one of your own. Prentiss and yourself immediately called Hotch, who told you to get back to the station as soon as possible. You headed there, your mind filled with thoughts of Dr. Reid.

Hotch realized that delivering the profile was the most important in order to obtain Reid safely. “I believe the unsub is a younger woman, who’s looking for replacements from a lost husband and child.” You stated as soon as you approached. Hotch nodded, hoping you would slow down and become less anxious. You wouldn’t. You simply refused to. Reid was out there. He was in danger, on your watch.

“She’s probably around Reid and I’s age, so 20-25. She must’ve lost the child and her husband in some sort of freak accident.”

“What are you proposing, Y/N?” Derek asked quickly.

“I think the unsub is using the officers to become pregnant.” You shivered in horror at your own words, anxious at what would be happening to Reid. “Ask around, ask the officers here if something happened to one of their coworkers. It could be on the federal level as well.”

“We believe the unsub we’re looking for is a white female between the ages of 20-25. She recently lost a husband or partner, as well as a child. This loss has triggered a need for family once more. She has kidnapped several officers as well as an FBI agent. We believe she gains their trust by either impersonating an officer or by asking for help in some way. Then, she lures them towards her vehicle or a more convenient location, where she manages to blitz attack and kidnap them.” Hotch started.

“This woman is in a very fragile state due to this loss, and can become very hostile and aggressive if she has what she wants taken away from her. Though she may not be armed when we find her, it is very important to be cautious around her.” Prentiss stated.

While the rest of the team was giving the profile, you were hoping that Garcia would be able to ping Reid’s phone at some sort of location that could lead you to him. Unfortunately, the phone was dead and the process, therefore, was unable to receive any location from Spencer. You were scared out of your mind, and Penelope’s nervous energy didn’t help you much either.

A call back from Penelope distracted you from your nervous thoughts. “Sugar, I’ve found something really interesting to peg your brain with. I’ll let Hotch know about this soon. All of the kidnapped victims are from Nevada.” “Okay - I’ll think on that Garcia, and let you know. Maybe crosscheck the families from before and find out which of those moved to Idaho from Nevada in the last few years?” “I already checked, baby, and nada. I’ll check with Hotch and the others to see if they have any ideas.”

You soon met up with Derek, Rossi, Prentiss, and Hotch once more. They had gotten Garcia’s call, and they were brainstorming ideas on who the killer could be. Somewhere, somehow, the profile was incorrect. “Okay, if I was a kidnapper - I’m taking law enforcement personnel. To fill some kind of void. But why would I have to fill that void?” You asked.

“This person obviously underwent some kind of loss. Somehow. We just need to figure it out.” Hotch spoke.

“Do you think there was another victim, originally from Nevada?” Prentiss asked. The team nodded in agreement, and Derek dialed Garcia’s number. “Hey babygirl, we might have a lead. Do you have any victims from Nevada or Nevada cases that involved a male victim who was kidnapped?” He started.

“Quite a few. You’re gonna have to give me a bit more than that, sugar.” Derek nodded, before Hotch stepped in. “Garcia, were any of the males law enforcement? Possibly unsolved?” “Yes, yes.” She started, “one Ryan Walker, a police officer, was victim - in Carson City Nevada. They did find the perpetrator, 16 year old Ashley Davey. She was visiting on a school trip. He was able to I.D. her, as she kidnapped and raped him using chloroform and - viagra to get him up. This was after he rejected her advances - looks like she lured him by asking for directions and then using a taser to knock him out. Apparently he tricked her into believing that they could be together, and she let him out of his restraints, he made a run for it and escaped.”

“How was she able to keep him, Garcia?” Rossi asked, curious. “Looks like her Grandma and Grandpa owned some isolated property in Carson City, she stayed a few days after the trip had ended. She had a ticket back but didn’t use it. And - oh my god.”

“What is it, Garcia?” Hotch questioned her. “Apparently the sex with Mr. Walker was also unprotected, she gave birth to a baby boy 9 months later.” “Where is the child now?” “Joseph Davey is currently in foster care, after the mother was deemed unstable by the state. Walker filed a restraining order, and Ashley is not allowed to contact him in the slightest. She spent several years in a correctional facility for troubled teens and young adults - and she is currently residing in her parents’ home here in Boise.”

“Address please” you begged. “Sending it to you now.”

You immediately rushed towards the door, waiting for the team to follow. Yes, it was late, but you were deeply worried about Spencer. Who knows what could be happening to him right now. You took off towards the address, and once you arrived, you immediately noticed a shed near the back. That had to be it. You and Derek headed towards the shed, while Rossi, Prentiss, and Hotch headed into the house. It took one simple kick from Morgan for the door to slam open. Inside, you found several men. The three police officers, all tied up but - relatively sound. Spencer was laying on a small cot in the corner of the room, tied to the bed. You immediately went to him. He was drowsy, in an almost relaxed state. Each of the men were stripped down to mere boxers, they looked very cold. Derek undid knots for the three officers, helping them outside.

Meanwhile, you struggled. Spencer must’ve fought more - that’s why the knots were so tightly bound around his limbs. You also struggled with the strange state Spencer was in. As soon as you released one arm, his hand was around your waist. “I want to fuck you.” Spencer stated, and you continued to work at the second knot. “Reid, you’re in a hypnotic state. Don’t trust yourself.” The next thing you knew, Spencer’s hands were settling on your ass as you worked at the last two knots around his ankles. These two were a bit easier. You decided to let his hands be, what harm could they do? He was just in a delirious state, you told yourself. However, once you released the last of his limbs, he launched himself upon you, grinding a bit on your heat. “Reid, Reid, don’t do this-” It felt good, and yes, you liked him and were attracted to him. But not like this. Not with his fragile mental state and aphrodisiac coursing through his veins.

You somehow got Reid up off of you, and you slugged his top half over your shoulder, his legs walking next to you with ease. As you walked out of the shed, Morgan and a paramedic were waiting. They took Spencer off of your shoulders, and a huge weight was lifted. He’d be okay after being stabilized at the hospital. Morgan went to assist the others, and you got the okay from Hotch to ride with Reid to the nearest hospital.

You were the one that Spencer woke up to. He saw your face immediately, smiling almost instantly. “You okay, Spence?” He nodded. “What happened?” “Well, um- Ashley Davey kidnapped you, along with the other officers. You were given a pretty hefty aphrodisiac, so you were really out of it when we got to you. But good news - they ran a rape kit on you and there was no evidence of rape or sexual assault. We think we got there just before it was about to happen.” You sighed. Spencer looked at you gratefully. “Thank you, Y/N. I’m sorry I ran off at the crime scene. I was feeling insecure.” He stated.

“It’s okay, Reid. But why?” You questioned, and he sighed. “My IQ is only 187.” You had to hold in a fit of laughter. “Spencer. Oh my god.” He looked at you, puzzled. “Only 187. I know, it’s a number. And it’s wonderful it’s a measure of your intelligence and ability. However, you don’t have to let that number define you. We’re both, technically geniuses. But we have different interests, different specialties. Our IQs do not define who we are. Us geniuses have to stick together, not tear each other apart.” Spencer smiled at your remark. He felt drawn to you, to put it simply. He reached out towards you for a hug. Afterwards, he lingered just a bit, and you looked at him. He had to have something to say. “What is it?” You asked.

“Y/N, could I take you out on a date when we get back to Quantico?” He looked at you hesitantly. You could tell he was nervous. “Spencer Reid, I would absolutely love that.”

49 notes · View notes