#it's okay that i don't know how autopsies work just go with it <3

[brothersonahotelbed]

christ's postmortem

(inspired by this art by @frankcuntstein)

***

Son of God, huh? well, let's see what you're made of.

the first incision, right down the Savior's sternum and blood spills out as freely as always. well, he bleeds like a human. a comforting thought. Doctor spreads the incision wide, show me your heart malice in his voice and he's getting greedy with it, hands groping desperately for the Savior's heart. i bet you're not fucking pretty on the inside till he pries open the curtains of his chest and

the divinity bursts out of him, blood-soaked sunlight searing Doctor's hands. it drips down the chest it is beautiful and terrifying in the way all divine things seem to be. Doctor grits his teeth and swells with pride as his hands close around the Savior's heart still warm. odd. he removes it from the body and now Doctor holds the world in his hands. she glistens with blood but underneath the coat of red there is no doubt that Doctor is cradling the earth herself, the heart. Doctor plays God, which is not uncommon, but he is amazed as he watches the Savior's heart spin on its axis, blue skies and white clouds smeared sanguine.

FOR GOD SO LOVED THE WORLD HE PLACED IT BEHIND BARS INSIDE THE CHEST OF HIS SON. NEVER TO BE REAPED. NEVER TO BE SHOWN.

in his hands, the globe seems to throb. it did not die with the Savior, for here she spins, alive as ever. she was made to be cradled.

Doctor glances at the Savior's empty chest. beams of warm, clean light are bursting from the cavity and oh. the weight of the world is making his hands ache. that is where it belongs. Doctor lays the heart – the world – back into the chest of Christ and stitches the incision back together. the light has diminished but it seems reluctant to go, as tiny tendrils of light peek out between each suture hoping to escape.

Doctor's gloves are bloody. i have the blood of Christ on my hands. he wants to suck his fingers clean he wants Christ in him inside him he wants his body to know the taste he wants to taste that which grants everlasting life but he is humbled now, having held the world with his own two hands. he is not worthy of the drink and he would rather thirst for eternity than know his lips, unclean, had lapped up the Savior's blood like a desperate dog.

Doctor removes his gloves tosses them in the Hazardous Waste bin wheels the Savior to his mortuary cabinet metallic and cold. a tomb of sorts.

before shutting the door, he gazes down at Christ. a handsome face. a full heart. who could resist falling in love with you?

he shuts the door with a snap.

and inside the chest of Christ, the world carries on.

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

Riddlers with a s/o who really likes horror movies, old ones, news one, everything in between long as it's horror? Need to know who's ear I can talk off

"Riddlers and Horror Movies" Riddler party x Reader

Several of these riddlers share direct horror movie quirks with me have fun guessing which. Also listed favorite horror film(s).

TW: horror films, blood and gore descriptions, mentions of emotional self-harm

Gotham

He's the guy who is going to contradict and tell you every medical inaccuracy of the deaths and mechanics in the movies. Yes, of course there's suspension of disbelief but at some point things are just wrong.

Babe, that should be arterial blood but they're portraying venous blood consistency :(

If you don't mind him talking at length about how these things would actually go OR conversely how well the sfx portrayed real injuries, he is your horror movie buddy! None of it bothers him considering how many real life murder, suicide and accident victims he's had to perform autopsies on.

Cuddling with his gangly legs on the couch bundled up in a big blanket with you while the sounds of screams echo from the tv and fill the room. Huge smile. He especially old classics when you're in the mood. Black and white films and transatlantic accents... It sounds like a great night to him.

Favorite Horror Movies: Might be a surprise but he really loves "Freaks" from 1932. He will talk for a long time about how, even though many of the disabled actors were ostracized on set, the fact that they were present at all is significant. The ableist assholes get theirs in the end! He also has a lot of fondness for "Re-animator."

Btas

He's the one interested in the sfx rambles. What, you think he designed a video game and labyrinth for a theme park just because he's intelligent? He likes behind the scenes work. God help everyone if he and Scarecrow decided to get together to make a haunted house.

You ever see those huge animatronics in horror mazes, especially the huge end show pieces? That's where his interest goes.

Depending on how much you watch and express interest in that kind of thing, he genuinely might start making horror animatronics and programs. He has the know-how! His would be the realistic looking ones, especially for animals. Spooky but definitely based in forms you see in real life.

Well, beautiful, you might have helped him find a very profitable side gig. Everyone else might be sore at you for a while, though, given Edward scaring the fuck out of them with holograms and mechanics. Plus more team-ups with Scarecrow.

All this because you wanted to watch horror movies with him. His darling <3

Favorite horror movie: "The Thing" (1982) and while it's not his absolute favorite, he ends up enjoying "Willy's Wonderland" a lot for both the animatronics and video game nods.

60s

The old ones with little to no gore is fine! More modern hack and slashers might be a little too spooky for him :( definitely never show him "Hostel" or anything in that vein.

Truthfully, it's not the violence or the blood, he's seen that. It's the suffering that gets him. It all seems so pointless and needless. At least when he's attempting to cut batman into tiny pieces using a comically giant fan, there's a goal or point. In his mind, anyways.

Before dating you his idea of horror was "Dracula", "Frankenstein"... "The Ghost and Mr. Chicken".... Start with horror that has a more comedic or cheesy element- "Little Shop of Horrors" to "Tucker & Dale vs. Evil." "Creepshow" 1 and 2 from the 80s! If you ease him into it and don't go too extreme, he'll love watching horror movies with you.

Favorite Horror Movie: OKAY THIS IS CHEATING BECAUSE IT'S NOT A MOVIE BUT. He'd be a HUGE fan of the "Tales from the Crypt" show from the early 90s (that is almost impossible to find streaming rip my horror uncle The Cryptkeeper). Horror plus puns. He will always take a funny, morbid pun! Plus... man can appreciate a cackle. He also has several opinions about the original "Suspiria."

Zero Year

It has to have something of a decent story or he's not paying attention. Where is the BACKGROUND? Sidenote: if you get him into something like Bloodborne (I know, not a movie) with lots of lore, expect to not see him for a hot minute as he consumes all the information he can like a sponge.

He tends to favor psychological horror- Although, if it means spending time with you and gaining favor, he would watch most anything. Especially if there's the possibility of close physical affection... ANYWAYS. He's also the one who wants to watch a bunch of foreign language film horror such as "Les yeux sans visage" in original French.

Another thing is that he will watch things over and over and over again with you if you want. Part of it is the undiagnosed neurodivergency. Part of it is because you always catch new details when you watch things again. Him noticing something that you didn't and him getting to tell you and impressing you is a special kind of high. He will talk about movies for hours afterwards. "Jacob's Ladder" has been a several hours long dissection MULTIPLE TIMES.

Favorite Horror Movies: "Angel Heart" is his top all time favorite. If you haven't seen it, he will practically tie you up to watch it together- He also really enjoyed "The Lighthouse" and "Us."

Arkham

Similar to BTAS, he is also interested in the animatronics. His, however, would lean to body horror and sci-fi. Something about biology and machine blending together... it gets him kind of excited.

He will sit and work while watching you play something like Deadspace (sorry, a game again) for HOURS. Then he wants to watch the prequel movie with you. Also if you don't mind subtitles, he has this recommendation for "Tetsuo: The Iron Man" if you haven't seen it already. And if you haven't... You are in for an experience.

In short, this man is about the body horror. He likes other horror too, but that's his bread and butter. Sci-fi horror as well. Bonus when there is overlap. He's seen "Annihilation" at least twenty times and has the books dog-eared and rough from multiple reads somewhere in his belongings. Yes, they are ultimately different, but he's in love with the concept enough that to him he appreciates both.

He is going to scare you with animatronics he makes. Sometimes intentionally. Sometimes not. Have fun with that.

Favorite horror movies: Cronenberg period but he has a special fondness for "Videodrome" and "The Fly" (1986).

Telltale

Despite it being an excellent movie, he despises "Jacob's Ladder." It brings up too many unpleasant thoughts. Movies, especially horror, with medical experimentation are a trigger though he'll never say it out loud. You find this out as you discuss watching certain movies and see the connection between all of them.

That being said, the horror movies he likes have two themes: they have meaning/ a message or they involve transformation. The first is because anything too simple bores him. The second is totally absolutely NOT because of projection of his own trauma.

Show him "Get Out" and "Nope" and he gains a deep reverence for Jordan Peele as a writer and director. Intelligent, entertaining, and the perfect amount of horror mixed in. Kind of a fan, only you know, really.

80s version of "The Fly" makes him emotional and you probably only watch it once with him. He likes it a lot! Just... the slow transformation via a science accident is very relatable. Madness overtaking you.

Favorite horror movies: "An American Werewolf In London" it's a classic. Not to mention in his opinion one of the best transformation scenes in a movie.

2022/nashton

Ha... so here's the thing. He likes "Hostel" and movies like that with lots of violence and gore. He's even seen "Wolf Creek" and got some real excitement out of it. HOWEVER. Movies in that vein are a form of emotional self-harm for him. He likes them in the moment but they also usually trigger massive anxiety and depression episodes for him later on in the day/night.

Others like "Se7en" (I know it's a thriller not true horror), "Saw" and the like are usually okay. There's a distinctive difference that may only exist in his own mind, but the more you watch with him, the more you'll find out which movies are "safe" for him. Which is good! He does like horror movies, but as we know from the prequel comics, he's not always good at taking care of himself due to massive amounts of trauma.

He loves films that are gems that aren't super well known in the US when he can find them. Have you seen the Korean horror film "The Silenced"? No? You're in for a treat.

He likes movies that have a logic or puzzle to them. Complex mechanics and traps. A sick sense of justice dispensed.

Favorite horror movies: The "Saw" series. Also "The Collector." He sees the upside down shot with the reflective contacts and the spider allegories and his eyes dilate like a cat seeing it's favorite toy.

[rivalsforlife]

tragic update. we were having a good time. and then I knew what they were saying. and then we got to the ending.

musical 4 spoilers / dgs2 spoilers / really shitty handling of colonialism under cut:

so here's a rough summary of how the musical decided to handle the plot.

-zheng fa in AA Musical-verse is first established in musical 3 as a former spanish colony, something I think they did Solely so that they could have some of the actresses do a flamenco. already this is a shitty and weird decision

-zheng fa in musical 4 is introduced as a former colony of britain that won independence from britain in a war about 30 years ago.

-later in this musical, brad menixon ambassador of zheng fa and also the killer at one point threatens the queen's life and is talked down. I did not have subtitles for this for a while.

-turns out menixon found out that britain was conspiring with another international superpower (given context from musical 3, presumably this is spain) to recolonize zheng fa. understandably this upsets him. so he tries to smuggle out the national secrets through other musical original character nina jones who workes at buckingham palace, smuggling the secrets using the book war and peace, which soseki checks out and gets inadvertently roped into the whole mess when menixon tries to kill him to get the book + secrets back.

-anyways he's found out and then tries to get away using extraterritorial rights but sholmes persuades ryuu to persuade the queen to directly subpoena him which he can't ignore.

-menixon gets found out and threatens the queen, and shares his motivations, which were basically "britain and presumably spain are trying to take over my country again and I'm trying to stop them and now I'm going to kill the queen"

-ryuu voice BUT IF YOU KILL THE QUEEN THAT IS JUST AS BAD AS THE WAR WHICH COLONIZED YOUR COUNTRY. YOU'RE JUST THE SAME AS THE ENEMY COUNTRY YOU HATE SO MUCH.

-and THEN we find out that this entire soseki death faking plot was a ruse by sholmes, who. somehow?? found out that menixon was intercepting war plans. and decided he had to stop him?? by putting him on trial where the queen herself would subpoena him??

-herlock fucking sholmes?????

-he ALSO CONSPIRES WITH STRONGHART TO DO THIS. stronghart was in on at least part of the plan (after sholmes gets arrested he sends a letter to stronghart to fake soseki's autopsy report. yeah.)

-van zieks: so you forged an autopsy report stronghart. well I guess it's fine if it's to protect government secrets

-anyways uhh I lose track of things around here. ryuu asks the queen to stall (STALL. NOT STOP) the plan to attack zheng fa. the way it's worded is like the queen somehow has no knowledge of this??

-anyways since no murder occurred (soseki faked his death) and the queen decides to forgive menixon for holding her hostage (because the empire always acknowledges its mistakes!!) menixon and nina end up having to go on trial for revealing government secrets later

-but it's okay they can start again and protect zheng fa!

-zheng fa does get recolonized. we know this from musical 3 lore.

-so they don't stop this. who knows if britain contributes but they certainly don't help

-so sholmes and ryuu basically stop menixon from getting in the way of zheng fa being recolonized

-and it's not clear?? why sholmes wanted to stop menixon so badly?? other than "smuggling government secrets is illegal :("

-queen victoria is portrayed as a likable character + very kind and noble and welcoming to foreign students + generous for pardoning menixon. sholmes is sholmes and one of the most likable characters. ryuu is our protagonist. menixon is at least portrayed as sympathetic but ultimately is considered In The Wrong for trying to smuggle secrets to protect his country

-"continue to protect zheng fa" HOW????????

-the musicals 2-4 do this where they have an actually nuanced situation and the protagonists go "well you used illegal methods so that's Bad" but offer absolutely no solution to the injustices done to these characters other than "well you shouldn't have done murder! don't worry you can change and choose a better path!"

anyways. what the fuck.

[aperrywilliams]

We Could Try (Part 6): Good Enough? (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

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Author Masterlist / Clueless (prequel)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: The BAU has to work with Valerie to solve a case, and (Y/N) needs to confront her demons to clear her head and decide if she will persevere in her relationship with Spencer.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Some strong words. Self-deprecating thoughts (Reader). Case's description. CM usual stuff. Valerie being Valerie. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: I’m back with this series! Who asked for some more angst?

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

After an excruciating silence, Emily decided to take the ropes.

"Okay. Dr. Smith. I assume you read agent Green's reports from this case. Can you tell us your thoughts about those?"

"Valerie is okay, Emily."

"I prefer Dr. Smith. If you don't mind."

"Whatever you want, agent Prentiss," Valerie returned. A smug smile on her lips.

"So, did you access the old reports as well?" Rossi hastened to ask.

"Yes. I read everything on the flight coming here. Pretty interesting, I must say," Valerie commented.

(Y/N) felt suffocated in the room. She tried to avoid looking at Valerie or Spencer. And even when she succeeded, hearing her speak didn't help.

Valerie pointed out her findings. From time to time, she looked at Spencer, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Okay. What do you think?" Prentiss asked.

"It seems neat, but the details show hesitancy and irregularities. I wouldn't say the guy knows what he is doing," Valerie concluded.

(Y/N) didn't know how she should react. There was a case they needed to solve, and focusing on how uncomfortable she was wouldn't do any good. So she tried to collect herself and bury the fact that Valerie - fucking - Smith was there.

"Last autopsy report says the unsub had access to medical tools and some kind of training," (Y/N) pointed, handling the file for Valerie.

"The access could be. But I wouldn't say medical training in humans," Valerie explained.

"What kind, then?" Prentiss asked.

"Veterinary, maybe?" Spencer indicated, looking at the victim's body photos again.

"Always so clever, Dr. Reid," Valerie remarked. Spencer sighed and immediately locked eyes with (Y/N), visibly exhausted.

"Okay. If you excuse me, I'll go back to the hotel. Boston will send more files in the morning," (Y/N) explained, quickly standing and collecting her things.

"Why so early? Just when I thought we could go for a drink to catch up," Valerie suggested. (Y/N) looked at her dead in the eyes.

Ignoring Valerie's comment, Prentiss dismissed everyone for the night.

"We are done for now. Fresh start tomorrow at eight am."

(Y/N) was already out of the meeting room. Spencer didn't hesitate to grab his jacket and follow her outside.

“(Y/N)! Wait!" He called, (Y/N) reluctantly turned.

"Spencer, not now. I'm tired," she mumbled. It wasn't a lie.

"I know. I know. But I swear I didn't know Valerie would be here."

"A hell of a coincidence!" (Y/N) mockingly parroted Valerie's words from earlier.

"Please, can we talk? I don't want this to twist things between us," Spencer wrapped his hand around (Y/N)'s wrist.

"I think it's a bit late for that. They are already twisted," (Y/N) said, frustrated and annoyed at how things were going.

"But we were talking earlier; we were getting at something," Spencer reminded her, trying to keep her from leaving without talking to him.

"And you didn't want to talk at first," (Y/N) scoffed.

"C'mon (Y/N). Talk to me. Please."

Spencer was desperate. He didn't want her to leave like this.

"I told you, Spencer. I'm tired. Maybe Valerie is in the mood; why don't you ask her?" (Y/N) told him, yanking her arm to get rid of Spencer's grasp. Quickly, she got into the first cab she found.

"Well, that was a bit rude, if you ask me," Valerie commented as she approached after witnessing the whole interaction.

"I didn't ask your opinion on this matter or any other, so stay away from me," Spencer said sternly, still looking in the way (Y/N) left.

"So dense, Spencer. I thought you were doing better after all this time. And I thought you already realized what a waste of time that woman is," Valerie taunted.

"Don't you dare to talk about (Y/N) like that. You don't know anything," Spencer grunted, turning to see Valerie. She didn't even flinch at Spencer's words.

"I know enough. And that?" Valerie pointed to the spot where (Y/N) was minutes ago. "That doesn't seem like happiness to me. But you're the genius; I think you already know."

Spencer clenched his jaw. How was it possible that of all the moments, just in the worst of all, Valerie makes an appearance? Just when things between him and (Y/N) couldn't get any worse.

Valerie saw how Spencer was about to say something, but she didn't want to hear his outburst, so she decided to leave.

"Have a good night, Spencer. I'll see you in the morning."

-

(Y/N) barely slept. Even if she was tired as fuck, she tossed and turned all night. Only at dawn was she able to sleep a bit.

Spencer didn't do better than her. He knew which hotel she was staying in, but (Y/N) made it clear that she didn't want to talk to him. For a moment, Spencer mulled around the idea that this was the end. There wasn't anything that could salvage their relationship.

The same Spencer chastised himself for even thinking of giving up. They needed to talk - with Valerie there or without her.

But it seemed futile doing it before wrapping the case.

In the morning, a confused team saw Valerie Smith in the precinct.

Emily warned: "We are working on a case. Valerie is assisting. Keep it professional."

But that didn't stop the empathetic looks they flashed to (Y/N) when she arrived. And (Y/N) hated it.

Hours later, Rossi, Prentiss, JJ, Valerie, Spencer, and (Y/N) were bouncing ideas in the meeting room.

"Okay, there is a chance he could attack soon? Three days between victims is the standard for him now," Emily pointed out, watching the board with information.

"There is a possibility. In New Heaven, he had irregular intervals," JJ informed, reading the file.

"We assumed it was because he was adjusting his targets, but not his MO," (Y/N) mused.

"It doesn't seem like that, though. Forensic suggests he's quite sloppy even in the last killings," Valerie piped.

"But the reports didn't show that," Spencer said.

"That's why I'm here, my sweet Doctor Reid," Valerie said mockingly. Spencer shifted, uncomfortable in his seat.

(Y/N) only wanted to punch Valerie to erase that stupid smile from her face.

"Okay, Dr. Smith. What did you find to get that conclusion?" Emily hurried.

"These photos show the wounds of the first victim—full of bruises. The second one is different but still has these irregular cuts. The ME report says it was because of the tool used, but they're wrong. This is a plain scalpel, number 11, maybe, and not a dented blade. You can find those on the Internet if you want."

"So, the tool is different, but it doesn't rule out the medical training," Rossi reminded.

"This kind of incision couldn't be done for someone who knows the field or even a little close to that. Not even a butcher would do it that way. That's my opinion," Valerie sentenced.

"How fits that with the profile?" Prentiss asked. "We talked about confidence and bragging."

(Y/N) felt all eyes on her. It was her profile, and the evidence wasn't supporting it.

"Consistency. The path is repeated in the second and third victims. After that, he changed to another city. But he sticks to doing the same. If we were talking about a newbie, the scenes don't show that. They are not messy," (Y/N) described.

"Nothing that a good bleach can't do," Valerie interjected. (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

"But if bragging is a must for him, where is the signature?" Spencer questioned. (Y/N) nodded.

"We concluded that the signatures were in the bodies," (Y/N) replied.

"The messy handwork? I'm not a profiler, even if I dated one," Valerie said, winking at Spencer, and (Y/N) stomach twisted. "But the signature must mean something, right?"

Not an hour in that room, and (Y/N) was fed up.

"Not to us necessarily," (Y/N) interjected.

"So you have nothing with that. No wonder this guy is still on the loose," Valerie mocked.

That was the last straw for (Y/N).

"Are you questioning my job?" (Y/N) directly spoke to Valerie, who chuckled.

"No, darling. I'm pointing out facts," she retorted. Spencer and Rossi were about to say something, but Emily spoke first.

"Hey! Stop, you two," Prentiss warned. Valerie raised her hands in surrender but (Y/N) couldn't stand any second there, so she stood and left the room.

"We are here working on a case. Let's focus on that," Emily told the group, looking directly at Valerie.

-

Slamming the bathroom door, (Y/N) locked in there and tried to calm down. Her breathing picked up, and she felt choky. She closed her eyes, leaned toward the wall, and tried to ground herself.

'I can't do this,' she thought. Not with that woman in there, not with Spencer and the whole team there. (Y/N) was losing it, and all her insecurities arose at the same time.

Valerie was right in her observations; the signature wasn't evident. (Y/N) noticed the inconsistency in the injuries too, but she didn't come up with a plausible answer. She was stuck back then in Boston, and she was stuck now.

(Y/N) needed to cool off if she wanted to solve this case. Opening the faucet, she splashed cold water on her face.

Fuck Valerie and fuck Spencer.

Minutes later (Y/N) left the bathroom, but instead of returning to the meeting room, she secluded herself in the office where she had been working, double-checking the case files.

A knock alerted (Y/N). When she saw Spencer peeking through the door, she sighed.

"What? Are you going to tell me the profile is wrong too?"

Spencer shook his head, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

"I don't think the profile is wrong. I think there is something else we do not see, though," Spencer pointed, sitting in the chair in front of her. (Y/N) scoffed.

"That I'm not seeing, and Valerie does. That's what you're saying?" (Y/N) corrected defensively.

“(Y/N)-" Spencer wanted to protest, but (Y/N) cut him off.

"Don't bother. I know she's a scientist and better than me in that field. Among others, I should add," (Y/N) let out in a bitter tone.

Spencer could see the hurt in her eyes, and it pained him. He never saw (Y/N) this insecure about her job. And he knew it was his fault.

"That's not-" He tried to explain, but she didn't let him finish.

"Yeah, it is. That is what caught your attention in the first place. She is bright. I get that," (Y/N) shrugged, fidgeting with the files on her desk, avoiding Spencer's eye contact.

"(Y/N), don't do this," Spencer demanded, looking at her intensively.

"Do what? 'Pointing facts'?" she air-quoted Valerie's previous words. He shook his head.

"No. It's not true, and you know it. Valerie can say whatever she wants, but you can't believe her. Not you, for God's sake! I am the asshole who made a mistake. You can't be the one who's doubting about yourself!" Spencer grumbled. (Y/N) chuckled bitterly.

"Well, flash news, I do! I doubt everything now. And maybe because it's true, I'm not good enough. I'm not good enough at solving this fucking case. I'm not good enough for this job. And for sure, I'm not good enough for you. I should have realized sooner."

Spencer stood and kneeled in front of (Y/N), grabbing her hands in his. She didn't push him away but avoided eye contact.

"Why are you punishing yourself like this? You are an excellent profiler and the most incredible person I have known. You stuck out with me during one of the worst times of my life. You loved me even when I couldn't love myself. You are more than enough and more than I ever wanted. My love, I'm sorry I made you think otherwise," he apologized, kissing her knuckles.

(Y/N) bit her lower lip, trying to keep at bay the tears. She wanted to believe him. She really longed for that, but her mind and heart were still a mess.

As a cue, Valerie, and agent Green entered the room. (Y/N) stood quickly and turned to the window so they couldn't see her face. Spencer stood too and looked at the pair with no amusement.

"Doctor Reid. The ME from the last two autopsies wants to talk to you and Dr. Smith," Green announced. Spencer could see Valerie's smug smile. Turning to look at (Y/N), he saw she didn't move from her contemplation state at the window. Sighing, Spencer decided it wasn't time to argue, so he followed Green and Valerie outside.

As the door closed, (Y/N) returned to her seat at the desk. Looking at the folders pile, she mulled over Spencer's words. This may be the last chance to see if something between them could work. Could she be strong enough to endure the pressure of having Valerie there?

She could try. She needed to.

Over and over again (Y/N) examined each piece of evidence in those files. There had to be something there, she was sure.

Regardless of her efforts, it seemed the world didn't want her to focus. This time, the distraction was personified by David Rossi.

"Hey, kiddo," the man made his presence known. (Y/N) looked at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"Nope. Don't even think about it, Rossi. I don't need a pep talk right now," she said. Rossi, unfazed by her words, sat in front of her.

"Maybe you don't want it, but I'm sure you need it," the man pointed.

"Now, suddenly, everyone knows what I need," (Y/N) scoffed.

"You have the absolute right to be upset. I get that. But you are better than anyone I met before to overcome something like this. I'm not quite sure where your insecurities come from now, but you need to stop," Rossi stated.

(Y/N) looked at him in disbelief.

"So that's it, uh?" she mocked.

"Bella. I know you're hurt. And I can see what that woman is trying to accomplish too. She wants you to feel self-conscious. To make you feel weak. Don't let her succeed. Yeah, she caught Reid's eye back then, but it was nothing to do with you. There were his own insecurities. Not let them become your insecurities now."

How could she explain to him that it was too late for that?

"She is smarter, Rossi. Pretty and sexy too. She exudes confidence and knows what she is capable of doing. She got Spencer once."

Rossi frowned. (Y/N) sighed.

"I know what you are thinking. How is it possible a heartbreak could do that? I'm very aware and not proud of it," she declared, resting her hands on her lap.

"Okay. Let's assume you are right. Why would that be your fault? Please, don't doubt your worth, Bella. Relationships fail because of the two people involved, not just one. In the past, you know you did everything you could. It was Reid who needed to recognize he needed to do something more to get better and stop doing nonsense. Now you both are trying. You both are pursuing to prevail over the past. He loves you, and you love him," Rossi tried to reason.

"Then why I can't stop thinking that I'm not - you know - good enough? To him, and honestly? For anything! Look at me! I'm a mess, and I can't put my shit together to solve this fucking case!" she complained. Rossi leaned in his chair to get a better view of (Y/N)'s glassy eyes.

"Kiddo. Don't go so hard on yourself. You are a good person, an experienced professional, and an excellent agent. You don't need to prove anything to anyone. Your value can't be put on hold just because someone said you weren't worthy, only to make you upset. She is taunting you. Don't let her win," Rossi recommended with a reassuring hand on her shoulder. (Y/N) huffed a laugh.

"I don't know how she fucking does it. She gets into my skin in a way I didn't think possible," she confessed. Rossi knew it was true.

"Then it's time to break that spell. I know you can do it. You deserve to be happy, Bella. Take your chance to be at peace with yourself and move on from the past. Now, come on, we need to catch this bastard," he sentenced, pointing to the files over the desk. (Y/N) nodded.

"Yeah. You're right."

"Damn right I am," the man said, making (Y/N) chuckle.

"Thank you, Rossi."

"Anytime, kiddo."

-

The connections they thought to find only made them run in circles. Every lead they got turned into a dead-end road. Agent Green couldn't hide the frustration on his face. Emily didn't do better.

The conversation Spencer and Valerie had with the ME confused them even more. Nobody could explain why the behavior evidence didn't match the victim's body marks. At some point, they thought it could be the work of two unsubs, but it didn't make sense.

Later that afternoon, watching the board with the pictures, (Y/N) saw something. Emily, Green, Reid, and Rossi were there too.

"What is it?" Emily asked.

"There. Can you see that? In her right arm?"

There was a small puncture mark at the wrist height. Checking the pictures, they saw the same pattern in the other victims. The spot was so tiny compared with the cuts in the rest of the body that no one noticed.

"Maybe he injected the drugs there?" Rossi wondered. Spencer shook his head.

"If he wanted to incapacitate them faster, the best place is in the neck. The wrist is too uncommon to do that," Spencer explained.

"So, why did he do it?" Green wondered. (Y/N) narrowed her eyes, trying to come up with some explanation. Then it hit her.

"Look at their defensive wounds. They don't have any linked to their right hand, as if they had not used it," (Y/N) pointed. Spencer's eyes widened.

"He only incapacitated their right arm. He wanted they could fight, but with a useless right arm," he elucidated.

"What does that mean?" Green asked. Rossi hummed.

"That our guy is telling us where to look. He is incapacitated himself," Rossi pointed.

"And if I have to guess, in his right hand or arm," Prentiss added.

"That could explain why the cuts are like they are. He is doing it with his injured hand," (Y/N) hypothesized.

After that conclusion, they moved fast. They filled the rest of the team with the information and called Garcia to change the search parameters.

They came up with names, but nobody fit all the killing's times and places.

"We are missing something," Prentiss pointed. Now all the team, plus Green and Valerie, were there.

The air was so tense that even Valerie kept her mouth shut from any remark or teasing.

(Y/N) didn't pay too much attention to Valerie either. She was determined to solve the case, and thinking about her issues with Valerie wouldn't help.

Spencer tried to focus on the case too. He knew they needed to catch this guy before talking to (Y/N) again.

Some hours later, Garcia called with new information.

"Hey, my people. I may have something for you," she announced.

And indeed, she was right. Garcia had found two possible names of interest to the investigation: Mark Garner, a nurse who worked in a clinic along with one of the victims. At the same time, he dated the governor's daughter years ago. The second name was Albert Conrad, a surgeon who did his internship with Garner and knew another victim from the New Haven area.

"Conrad fits the profile," Emily pointed.

"But he's not physically incapacitated, isn't he?" JJ questioned.

"His record says he had a car accident two years ago, and he has been struggling with that in his job for a while. His hours in the OR decreased substantially," Garcia informed.

"What about Garner?" Luke asked.

"He's linked to the victims. Maybe he provided the names to Conrad," Tara speculated.

"So we need to look at their relationship," Rossi said. "What do we know about that, Garcia?"

"Well, besides the fact that they were co-workers doing their internship? It seems they were both quite bright. They were tutored by Dr. William Turpin, who signed outstanding letters of recommendation for both of them."

"Williams D. Turpin? The surgeon from the Rothery's case?" Valerie asked.

"Oh. Yes. The same," Garcia confirmed.

"What is Rothery's case?" Luke asked.

"Some years ago, doctor Turpin helped the police solve the case of Albert Rothery, a reputable New York citizen," Valerie explained. "He was my professor when I did my internship too."

"Since then, Doctor Turpin has consulted other cases over the country. He's retired but has a lot of knowledge," Green added.

"Okay. We'll do this: Luke, Tara, and Rossi go to talk to Conrad. JJ, Reid will go with Garner. (Y/N), can you talk to Dr. Turpin?" Emily instructed. (Y/N) nodded. But before anyone could move, Green spoke.

"And take Dr. Smith with you. She knows him, could be helpful."

The room went silent. Spencer looked at (Y/N) and then at Emily.

"I can do that," Emily anticipated. But (Y/N) shook her head.

"It's okay. I'll do it."

Valerie looked at (Y/N), confused. 'Does she want time alone to punch me again?' Valerie thought. And as if (Y/N) could hear her thinking, she mumbled to her.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to throw you from the car," (Y/N) said, grabbing the car keys and walking outside.

Wait, was that a joke? Valerie wasn't sure but played along.

"What a relief," Valerie mumbled, following (Y/N) outside. Spencer looked in horror at how the two women walked away.

Since Valerie got in the car, there were no words between them. (Y/N) was staring down the road while Valerie was looking out the window. It was better not to say anything, right? But Valerie hated silence.

"Do you think it's Conrad?" Valerie asked out of the blue. (Y/N) cocked an eyebrow.

"We don't need to have small talk, you know?" (Y/N) said, trying to spare Valerie's attempt to do whatever she had in mind. Valerie huffed a laugh.

"It's a legitimate question, okay? Believe it or not, I am just as interested in seeing this man captured as you are. That you were on this same investigation is a bonus."

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. At least Valerie wasn't hiding her pleasure in teasing her.

"Good to know," (Y/N) mumbled, determined to avoid falling into Valerie's game. "And if you want to know, no. I don't think it's Conrad, but I don't have evidence to rule him out. That is why we're talking to Turpin."

"Why not?"

"This guy moves with a lot of confidence from one place to another. Conrad doesn't seem to have that. He has the skills, but that doesn't explain how he was able to outwit the police for so long," (Y/N) explained. Valerie hummed.

“So, do you think he’s older,” Valerie pointed.

“Yes. The profile says a white male between 45 and 55. I’m inclined toward the 55 part,” she added.

“Reasonable,” Valerie agreed.

(Y/N) wanted to ask if she really thought that or if it was a munition for later. She didn’t have the chance, though. They have arrived at Dr. Turpin’s house.

After ringing the doorbell, Valerie and (Y/N) waited silently until a man peeked out.

"Doctor William Turpin?" (Y/N) asked. The man cocked an eyebrow, a smile on his face.

"At least my birth certificate says so. Who’s asking?" Dr. Turpin questioned.

“I’m agent (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She’s doctor Valerie Smith; we are with the FBI and would like to ask you some questions if you are okay with that,” (Y/N) explained.

(Y/N) thought it was odd Dr. Turpin didn't even look impressed. But that could have been explained from so many times that he has previously consulted cases, (Y/N) concluded.

“Uhm. Of course. Your name again, sweetheart?” He asked, looking at Valerie.

“Valerie Smith, sir.”

“Did we meet before, right?”

“I did my internship with you some years ago,” Valerie explained. Turpin nodded.

“That’s it. I knew it. Please, come in,” Turpin invited.

He let Valerie and (Y/N) in and led them directly to his office.

Walking down the hallway of Turpin's house, (Y/N) couldn't help but notice the pictures on the wall. Many of them were classical paintings of considerable value. But others caught her attention, not because of cost but because of their content: human extremities in a still-life fashion. Mainly arms and hands. (Y/N) recalled seeing work like this by Joel-Peter Witkin.

‘Weirdo,’ she thought. But something in them made her uneasy.

Once seated in the office, (Y/N) explained the case they were working on and the suspicions about Garner and Conrad.

An unfazed Dr. Turpin related how he met Garner and Conrad. Nothing out of the ordinary: they both were skilled professionals, and Turpin appreciated the work they did as internships.

The conversation could have ended there, but something told (Y/N) that the doctor knew more than he said. Out of planning, she grabbed her tablet and asked Turpin if they could ask him about the case. The doctor agreed immediately.

"Dr. Smith, could you explain to Dr. Turpin our main concerns about the forensic evidence?" (Y/N) kindly asked. Valerie frowned but followed (Y/N)'s request.

As Valerie spoke, (Y/N) watched as Turpin looked excited by every detail. It was almost sinister. It was not the interest of a scientist in a subject of his specialty. It was more than that. (Y/N) couldn't help but remember the paintings she saw in the hallway, the same ones she could see now in the office.

Why did everything look so familiar?

She reviewed the little she knew about Turpin, and it was as if the unsub profile had been revealed before her.

The skills. The access. The injury?

If only she could see his hands. Why was none of that evident before?

Was it just paranoia?

When (Y/N) tried to find an answer, she was interrupted by the doctor.

"I hope you can catch him. I can't imagine what the fear of him escaping again must be like."

How did he know that? So far, no one outside the investigation has connected New Haven, Boston, and New York killings.

(Y/N) swallowed hard. And Turpin's smile told her all she needed to know. Cocky bastard. He didn't even try to hide it. Of course not: all this time, he walked among the police force without being noticed. Turpin was sure he would get away with it again.

(Y/N) thought about her options. Would it be odd to leave quickly? And if Turpin escaped before getting there again? How to alert the team without raising suspicions? She pretended her cell phone was vibrating and excused herself from taking the non-existent call in the corridor. (Y/N) quickly began typing a message to Emily. But when she was going to send it, a sharp blow in the back of her head made her fall to the floor, losing her grip on the phone. Before losing consciousness, (Y/N) knew that her suspicions were true. Turpin was the unsub, and now they were at his mercy.

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

Spencer Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19  @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @thebloomingeagle @pauline5525mgg @maltamurdock @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @chlochlosworld @milivanili99

[enginire]

snowpiercer prompts. episode 1 - 3.

you're gonna have to hide.

it's going to be okay.

be prepared to brace.

we'll do the best with what we've got, alright?

you want to take care of the food?

you really think i can be an engineer?

never forget who you are.

with all due respect, we've heard it before, and this doesn't exactly fill the belly.

if we don't do something soon, it's gonna be too late.

i don't think you've got the guts to stand with us.

you can question my plan if you want, but you question my fight, and we've got a serious problem.

we do this now before they toss us again and find the weapon.

we need to think long-term about this.

there is no long-term if we're too old and sick to fight.

you're not allowed to have better cantonese than me.

there's more violence, i heard.

alright, well. bad news travels fast.

you know you love an excuse to wear your fur.

what do you want with me?!

we've had a murder.

i guess he didn't think rich people would murder each other.

we've got a body.

if anyone can get back to us, it's him.

i think they cut him up into pieces to hide him better.

this is your chance. take it.

why would you want to go back there?

my department's responsible for smooth relations.

doors will open wherever your investigation leads you.

you want justice? clear her.

get these two out of here, i'll start with her.

give us a minute alone, or this is as far as i go.

you told them i was a cop?!

you were the only person i could think of to help.

you really pulled out all the stops, huh?

how did it go with the suspects?

there is way more to this than you're saying. otherwise, why would you be so desperate for my help?

a murder could upset the entire ecosystem. it's complex.

i thought the boss could use some comfort food tonight, and i bet you can use a drink.

we locked up the wrong person.

once this murder is solved, the other work can continue.

we stick to the script. we finish what we started.

we've got to remove the body.

nothing like mountain weather to agitate everyone further.

just what this day was missing… another corpse.

they're killing each other up there.

i think i've got a way we get out of this alive.

there's to be no more loss of live.

you have a rough day stewarding the future of humanity?

it's gonna be bumpy tomorrow.

the only reason we're here is we refused to die in the first place.

do you think i want to be here?

finally! someone with the moral fortitude to take responsibility for their actions!

they keep trying to take our dignity, but any survivor will tell you they check their dignity at death's door.

the more they steal from us, the more human we become.

you were in it to save your buddies. i don't owe you a thing.

you two are gonna have a great day.

your people killed their friends. i don't think you realise how unpopular you are.

security forces don't grow on trees.

i'd be happy to share insights if you share details of the investigation.

i'm trying to assess how far you can move a body.

it's her lips to god's ear, isn't it?

we offer epiphanies.

i'm not gonna let them pin this murder on you.

would it be so terrible if you stayed up here?

sometimes detective work requires a personal touch.

just to be clear, i've never done an autopsy before.

you're not saying this is cannibalism.

one gang in particular - they would kill anyone, eat anyone. had no choice.

we need to look in your freezer.

bet you could cut my leg off with that.

brace for impact!

we need to know if it's structurally sound.

is this what the start of a resource crash feels like?

i know. it's bad. but how bad stays between us.

if you're gonna retail him for meat, then why the torture?

he puts arms and legs in my fricking noodles.

there's no use in getting us both shitkicked.

you still care about getting the right guy?

we need every department. we need friends high and low. you see?

i swear to you, i will not stop fighting.

we're still in motion, alive and kicking, and it's not thanks to chance, or fate, or god.

you've got killers and cannibals and god knows what else up here. so don't lecture me about balance.

you'd think loneliness would be impossible all crammed in here, but this place was designed to separate us from our possessions, from our loved ones. now every last shred of us is worth something to someone.

everything's rare, so you've gotta pay with something personal.

we held onto these for a long time, but they're worth more as a commodity. to trade if you get into trouble.

by your steady hand, we will ride out this hardship and outlive the ice, bound by our cause and our need.

tell them there's unrest brewing.

let me explain clearly. we each have our place up here, our lane. and until you earn his trust, your lane is narrow.

authoritarian states usually control their own drug trades.

well, look at you, detective. already working on the case.

you should see me without the handcuffs.

false imprisonment? a cannibal ring right under my nose? it's embarrassing.

and i can't even find my underwear!

i can't wait to slap him with this.

you're at an impasse with this case. so today, i'm shaking the hell out of this tree to make something fall out.

you know how the underground works.

i see you, with your surprise casino and your roman games. you're just misdirecting us from an extinction event.

god, i wish i were welding.

i'm gonna have to ask you to leave.

well, hopefully now we can focus on our next steps.

kinda everywhere, isn't she?

i'll keep doing what i do best, and you keep doing what you do best: survive.

we're gonna get a lot more information out of her if i go alone.

i can ask if he'll meet with you.

twice in one day, i'm stuck dealing with you.

you're just pissing him off.

so you go out there, and you tell him that i've got eyes on me too.

you think i don't have more dirt on you?

me and your boss? we're getting pretty close. i could probably just make some shit up.

that shit's poison. you should be ashamed of yourself.

you don't want that kind of publicity.

if i give him something about this murder, he'll probably forget about the whole thing.

it was a great success, despite a riot breaking out - maybe even because of it.

well, i'll put the riot to bed, you put them to bed.

this whole time, i've not been seeing what was right in front of my eyes.

you don't remember me, do you? but you do know who i am.

[visceravalentines]

hey, heard youre an embalmer. Im apprenticing currently and we just had our worst case yet. Even my preceptor said she'd never had one like this. How do you deal with severe cases like that? I'm not struggling emotionally really, but more viscerally. Like, I've barely started in the industry but I already feel burnt out. He took 8 hours over two days to embalm on top of restorative art and cosmetizing/dressing/casketing. Jeez I know she said it was a one-in-your-career case but apparently they are also becoming more common,,,,,

Oh my friend. I know that feeling. I've never had one that severe, but I remember some nine-hour autopsy embalmings when I was brand new and so desperate to do a good job on my own. That exhaustion after you throw everything but the kitchen sink at it and still don't get the results you want.

This got long but I stand by it so here's the cut, I'm long-winded as fuck okay bye.

There's a couple things you have to remember, and it can be hard to remember them all at once: 1. There is only so much you can do. So many things are out of our control. 2. If anything can be done, or someone is asking you to try, you are the one to do it. It's your responsibility. You're the professional. 3. At the end of the day, if you gave it everything you had, you cannot ask more of yourself.

Is this your first bad one? I promise you, they will not all be like that. And there may be some that are worse in some ways. You will not always be able to perform a miracle. What matters is that you try. It's a balancing act, because you are putting in all that time and effort in the hopes you can make a difference for that family. And at the same time, you cannot rely on their gratitude or catharsis or understanding as the payoff. You truly have to find satisfaction in your own efforts, in the fact that you know you gave it your all, because that's the only thing you can count on.

And please please please, if this one does not go well in the end, do not let that keep you down. I remember the first time I realized that there was truly nothing I could do to make the situation any better for the family. It was the most hopeless, helpless feeling I had ever experienced. But I did my best. I did everything I could. And when it was over, I took it as a learning opportunity, and it made me a better director. And I moved on to the next one, because there is always a next one.

The burnout is real. I am in burnout recovery right now! This profession is a burnout machine. I would love to chat with you more about it if you'd like, feel free to message me.

Take care of yourself. Treat the fuck out of yourself after battles like that. I and several of my colleagues are big fans of alcoholic drinks in the shower. You put wine in a thermos so it stays cold and you lean against that wall and you just be. It's wonderful and a long hot shower clears out the formaldehyde from your respiratory tract.

Our job is to try. To be there when no one else wants to be. To be inconvenienced and frustrated. You're working so hard and I see you and your preceptor sees you and hopefully that family sees the love and compassion you put into your efforts. And even if they don't see it because they are so overwhelmed right now, you know it's there. And sometimes that's all you can ask for.

[blue-labcoat]

10. I just need the pressure

summary: spencer helps reader through an anxiety attack in the middle of the night

genre: angst, fluff, 1.0k

warnings: anxiety attack stuff, mentions of death and autopsy

series masterlist here

a/n: I don't know how I feel about this one. It's okay.

I couldn’t fall asleep. I was at Spencer’s, and he was fast asleep beside me and had been for hours. I checked my watch for what felt like the millionth time. It was 3:15 am.

At first, I hadn’t been able to fall asleep just because. But the longer it was taking me to fall asleep, the more I began to overthink.

What if next week’s trial doesn’t get a conviction?

What if I missed something on that little girl’s autopsy? What if her parents never know the truth?

What if I forgot to submit the paperwork on my last case?

What if I screwed up the PCR on that DNA sample last week, and that’s why there wasn’t a match?

What if Hotch finds out Spencer and I are dating and doesn’t let me work with the BAU anymore?

What if Spencer gets shot? What if he dies?

I could feel myself spiraling, but I was stuck. My heart began to race, and my chest tightened. I started drawing in air faster and faster, trying to take a deep enough breath to calm myself down, but I couldn’t breathe.

Sobs began to wrack my body as I gasped for air.

“y/n? What’s wrong?” I heard Spencer asking, but he sounded far away.

“I can’t – I can’t breathe,” I gasped out.

“Okay, you’re having an anxiety attack. You’re going to be fine, look at me. y/n, look at me.” He grabbed my hand and brought it up to his chest. “Can you feel my chest? We’re going to take deep breaths together, okay? Breathe in with me, and out. Big breath in, let it out.”

After a few minutes, my breathing was still shuddery, but it was slower.

“What can I do for you, baby?” Spencer asked, sitting up next to me. “I know you usually like your weighted blanket, but it’s back at your place. Is there something else I can do?”

“I just need the pressure,” I explained desperately. “Could you, just… lay on me?

“Lay on you?” He sounded doubtful. “I suppose that could help. The pressure of weighted blankets is soothing because it puts your autonomic nervous system into a ‘rest’ mode. I’m a little heavier than a weighted blanket, though.”

“Can we just try it? Please?”

Spencer rolled over on top of me. He splayed his arms and legs out, but his torso was lined up with mine, and his head was tucked in the crook of my neck.

“Is that helping?” He asked after a few minutes. I nodded. “I just- I don’t think I can sleep like this. Did you want me to drive you home so you can lay under your blanket? I’m sorry, I would stay like this if I could.”

“No, it’s okay. I feel a little bit better now. Can you just – when I was a teenager and I got anxiety attacks, my mom used to come sleep with me and she would put my head against her heart so I could hear her heartbeat, and she would rub my head. Could you… Could we lay like that?”

“Of course, come here,” he said, rolling off me. I snuggled up against him, tucking myself into his chest with my head resting over his heart.

“Did you want to talk about it? Why you’re feeling anxious, I mean?”

“Maybe in the morning,” I said. Every so often, I still took in a shaky breath, but I managed to finally fall asleep to the gentle thudding of Spencer’s heartbeat.

The next morning, I woke up in the same position I'd fallen asleep in. Spencer was still sleeping. I shifted slightly so that I could look up at his face.

His pink lips were parted slightly, and I couldn’t help but notice how peaceful he looked. I laid like that for a moment, until I heard him mutter something without opening his eyes.

“Are you watching me sleep?”

I chuckled against his chest. “I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty.” I sat up and pressed a quick kiss on his nose. He opened his eyes to look up at me.

“Are you feeling a little bit better now? Were you able to fall asleep?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry you had to see me like that. My anxiety’s been better in the last few years. At least, better than it was in med school and the first few years of residency.”

“y/n, look at me,” he said, peering up at me. “You don’t need to apologize for having an anxiety attack. You know that, right? It’s not something you can help, but more importantly, it’s not something to be ashamed about. You’ve been there for me more times than I can count after a hard case, I’m just glad that I can help you when you’re feeling like this. And, you can talk to me about what’s making you feel anxious, too, you know that?”

I nodded. “I know, Spence. It’s – the things that make me anxious in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep, they usually just seem silly and insignificant when I wake up the next morning. I just get in my head, and I can’t help overthinking every little thing.”

“I get that. I know what it’s like to be stuck in your own head. But the things that make you anxious, they’re valid. Even if they seem silly when you wake up. Everyone experiences stress differently, you know that. I just want to make sure that you know how you can deal with it, so you don’t just bottle it up inside you. You can talk to me.”

“I know. Thank you, Spencer. For being here for me. For knowing what to do, and what to say, and just being you.” I leaned over him to give him a hug. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Previous -- Next

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch.5

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4

Summary: someone please give Nicole a break for the love of Miranda. And there be smut y'all

---

Seeing Cassandra's softer side made something flutter within Nicole's chest. The brunette was a sadist through and through. Witness to that fact was the array of torture devices that littered the dungeons. Not to mention the prisoners she frequently killed, only to haul them on the autopsy tables in her study to be examined, chopped and sectioned by the both of them.

But there was an uncharacteristic sort of gentleness in the way their lips slid against each other, sharp teeth occasionally biting down on Nicole's lower lip but never enough to draw blood. In the way Cassandra would drag sharp nails against flushed skin, but not go beyond the pleasurable amount of pain. Even the glint in golden eyes when Nicole went over some old notes of hers on more tricky anatomy concepts. Having an exclusive look at this side of Cassandra felt beyond intimate and the thought almost made her miss when the brunette spoke from where she was leaning over a notebook.

"Okay let's just wrap this up, I have plans."

Nicole hummed, dropping the liver she was holding in a freezer bag. Most body parts were already bagged and ready to be picked up by Cynthia and her undercooks, they were just putting into practice some things the brunette was curious about. She dropped the now blood soaked leather gloves in the sink and went to sit by Cassandra, who was scribbling some final notes.

"In that case I'll go enjoy a cup of tea," she sighed. "Tea that I had to skip because someone was eager to start on this early."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow at her, accompanied by her usual smirk. "I meant plans with you."

Oh? That was new. The brunette laughed at Nicole's wide eyed expression and snapped her notebook shut. She took her sweet time putting it on the shelf with the others and checking the time, pretending not to notice the redhead's inquisitive expression. Then, she lifted Nicole’s chin with a thankfully not covered in blood finger.

"Don't get me wrong I love it here but," she grimaced, "it gets stuffy sometimes. Especially in summer."

Well, that much was true. The undergrounds of the castle were oddly warm, although not downright hot, compared to what one would expect from a castle. Pair that with the annoyingly humid atmosphere and having to wear a leather apron and gloves so as to not completely ruin your outfit and you got the perfect recipe for discomfort. She really ought to ask Cassandra about installing some kind of better ventilation down here.

"Meet me in the attic in about… an hour." She leaned down and their mouths were so close that Nicole could feel icy breath on her lips.

The attic? She's never been to the attic, it was not only off limits for most staff but also dangerous if rumors were to be believed. Not that she had the clarity of mind to voice any concerns when Cassandra finally leaned in to kiss her, complete with a nip on her lower lip that made Nicole’s breath hitch.

---

The fact that Nicole had no idea how to get to the attic could be a slight problem. She had asked Anita, but not only did she not know, she also seemed mortified by the idea. Another maid just gave her vague directions to look for a ladder on the top floor. As if that wasn't like trying to find the needle in a haystack. Or the needle in a giant castle.

She was just wandering around the top floor, praying not to stumble upon anyone who would be less than thrilled to see her there. A sigh of relief escaped past her lips when she heard familiar buzzing and steps coming towards her.

"Oh Cas-" she swallowed her words when she noticed red hair spilling from underneath a black hood.

"Nicole! What are you doing here hmm?" Her inquisitive hum was way too exaggerated the same way her fangs seemed too sharp when she grinned.

"I was just looking for Ca- lady Cassandra. She asked me to meet her in the attic."

Daniela's mouth fell open, almost forming an O shape. Then back to her characteristic giggle, almost as if laughing at a joke only she knew.

"What, you don't know how to get there?"

"...Not really," she sheepishly admitted.

And that was a mistake. Nicole would've preferred to wander the hallways until Cassandra eventually got bored enough of waiting and decided to come see where her glorified lab partner was. But her plan was ruined by Daniela wordlessly grabbing her arm and pulling her in the opposite direction she was going in. She even went the extra mile to partially turn into a swarm, which made Nicole's panic skyrocket. She didn't mind bugs. But having hundreds of them fly all around you, accompanied by manic giggling was a whole other thing.

Before she knew it though, Daniela let go of her arm, laughing a little at Nicole's stumbling. She gestured dramatically towards a ladder and said:

"There you go. Say hi to Cassie for me."

"Th- thank you my lady." And with a small bow of the head she grabbed the ladder and started ascending on shaky legs.

"And enjoy your date," she called out, once Nicole was at the top of the stairs.

Blushing, she decided to ignore the comment and start looking for the sister less likely to turn her into fly food.

The attic looked… old. It was obvious that people didn't come here often, although someone probably did clean it regularly as there were no cobwebs nor dirt on any surfaces, aside from some dust. It was full of neatly arranged boxes and crates, their contents as mysterious as the castle's inhabitants. Tentative steps took her across ancient floorboards, navigating old rooms.

"Rah!"

Nicole damn near jumped out of her skin, a string of curses spilling past her lips. "Jesus fucking christ Cassandra!"

The brunette only laughed, hands on her knees and pretending to wipe a tear from her eye.

"That's what you get for making me wait for so long."

"I didn't even know where the attic entrance was! Good thing one of your sisters came to my rescue." Nicole rolled her eyes at the last word.

Cassandra stopped laughing, eyes narrowing slightly. "Which one?"

"Uh- Danie-"

"Did she hurt you?" Cassandra grabbed her arms, golden eyes looking for any visible injuries.

Nicole just laughed softly, taken off guard by the display of concern. "No, no. Just gave me a bit of a fright, that's all."

With an eye roll, Cassandra guided her further into the attic, through more dusty rooms, until they reached a short corridor, light spilling from its other end. The room they entered was relatively small, almost half of it occupied by stacked boxes as if it used to be a storage room like the rest of the attic and nobody bothered to completely clear it out. A few pieces of furniture were also present: a couch with a coffee table in front of it and paintings leaning against a wall to collect dust. This room however had a window, left slightly ajar, that allowed you to see the mountains stretching on the horizon, crowned by the beautiful orange hues of dusk.

Nicole moved to the glass to take in the view, mouth almost hanging open, when an ungodly screech from outside made her backpedal straight into Cassandra.

"What the fuck was that?" She asked, eyes widening at the sight of flying creatures circling the towers.

"Mother's flying guard dogs."

"They sound the same way I'd imagine the souls of the damned do." Nicole didn’t take her eyes off the ghoulish creatures, almost as if keeping eye contact would dissuade them from attacking.

Cassandra just shrugged. "Wouldn't be too far off. Also here." She sat on the couch, gesturing towards a cup.

Nicole went to sit by her side, grabbing the mystery cup. She frowned slightly when the steam reached her nose, bringing with it a pleasant minty and honey aroma.

"Tea?"

"Since you were so disheartened about having to skip it earlier," Cassandra averted her eyes, seemingly finding the curtains very interesting.

After a long sip, she let out a content sigh. The warmth was more than welcomed, despite the weather. She set the cup back on the table and turned her attention on the brunette, now fidgeting with the corner of a pillow.

"Thank you," Nicole said, leaving a small kiss on her cheek.

Cassandra smiled and turned around, locking their lips in a kiss that at first mimicked her gentleness, but soon turned hungry when dainty hands made their way to the brunette's nape, pulling her closer. She shifted them both, pushing Nicole down on the pillows littering the couch, until she was laying on top of her, legs on each side of her waist. Her focus was on leaving a trail of nips and kisses down Nicole's neck when the redhead jumped and barely stifled a yelp at another screech from outside.

"Ugh what the fuck is today, scare me out of my mind day?"

"How are you scared of these but countless dead bodies don't phase you?" Cassandra laughed, sound muffled by her position with her mouth against Nicole's neck.

"I used to work on corpses, not on ugly gargoyles that could chew my face off!" She gestured wildly at the window and the few creatures visible outside.

"You what?"

"You...didn't know?" Nicole couldn't help a giggle at Cassandra's confused expression.

"How was I supposed to know?"

"I thought your mother told you already. Or your sisters," Nicole shrugged.

"They knew?!" And, after something seemed to dawn on her, "Oh I'm gonna kick both their asses."

Nicole couldn’t help letting out a small laugh, placing her hands on Cassandra's cheeks and, with a pout for dramatic effect, "Right now?"

As much as the sight was both funny and endearing, the warmth starting to pool at her core was making her beyond impatient.

The indignation in golden eyes was replaced by an all too familiar glint and black painted lips went back to their work on Nicole's neck. Sharp fangs pierced the skin there, just enough to draw a few drops of blood and a whine. After licking every last bit of it, Cassandra's lips moved to the collarbones and lower, hands slowly starting to undo the buttons of Nicole's pesky uniform that was in the way.

When both the button up and the skirt were discarded on the floor Nicole tangled her fingers through black hair and pulled Cassandra in for a kiss. Her free hand went to the back of the dress, pulling down the zipper and guiding it off of the brunette's shoulders. Once both of them were left only in undergarments, Nicole pulled back to look up at the brunette.

"If I knew I was supposed to dress up I would've asked the chambermaid if there's anything fancy in the uniform stash," she said, taking in the beautifully intricate lace of Cassandra's matching bra and underwear, complete with a giggle at her awful joking.

The brunette only raised an eyebrow. "Mhm I can take care of that. Not like you'll need these for long though." Her hands reached under Nicole's back to unclasp her bra and in mere moments that too was on top of the pile of clothes on the floor.

Then Cassandra bent down to crash their lips together, tongue slipping past Nicole's lips when a wandering hand elicited a gasp from her.

Cassandra was by no means a patient person. Quite the opposite actually. But teasingly dragging her nails across sensitive skin only to feel the girl under her squirm and whine when her hand just won't go where she needed it made waiting all the more sweet. Slender fingers started to toy with the edges of Nicole's underwear. After a groan against her lips and an impatient tug of hair, Cassandra finally gave in, slipping two fingers inside her. She felt Nicole arch into her, a broken moan escaping past her lips when she broke the kiss to let her head fall back into the cushions. Cassandra took that as an opportunity to kiss the length of her neck, occasionally stopping to suck or bite at a spot, enjoying every gasp and moan she drew out of the redhead.

With Cassandra's rough pace it didn't take long before Nicole was clenching her thighs around her hand. Cassandra kissed her, swallowing her moan as she came.

The small room in the attic, Cassandra's drawing room she would later find out, was the perfect secluded spot. They spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other. First evening of many.

[theninjasanctuary]

So I wasn't expecting to be quite this sad on the first Christmas without dad, but even post-PMS, I've been tearing up and crying a lot, currently 3 nights straight of tears starting to flow as soon as the lights are off and my head hits the pillow, and at random moments when I'm alone with my thoughts throughout the day. It's not great. I guess uncle's death is not helping either. He wasn't in good health at all (obesity, diabetes, he'd been living at home on disability benefits for decades) and as I was writing the Christmas cards, I actually told the boyf that there would be another funeral within the next couple of years. Well, he died the same night. The last time I saw him was in September when we visited him for his 65th birthday. He did seem down after grandma's death and obviously dad's as well, but he dutifully took over the birthday phone calls from gran for the year, and carried on feeding the many birds and the few semi-feral barn cats that are sticking around even if farming activities beyond growing fruit and veg are long gone. The Sunday night before he died, they were drinking tea in the kitchen with my cousin (just 1 on dad's side) and laughing, in a good mood, even though uncle also mentioned seeing his parents and my dad in a dream. And when cousin got up to go to work after 6 in the morning, he found uncle collapsed in the kitchen (this cousin has spent his entire career working in emergency services, mainly firefighting but also ambulance crew, so he's got who even knows how much experience with dead bodies - haven't discussed this aspect of his job too much after his early descriptions of having to remove the driver's body from a BMW wrapped around a tree -, and he said it seemed he had died a couple of hours earlier). He was past the age where you'd get a mandatory autopsy upon sudden death, and the family decided against the optional one, as it doesn't really matter in the end.

Anyway. Life goes on. The boyf got me a fancy coffee maker for Christmas, nicer than the one in the office, so for the next several weeks I guess I'll be calibrating what my perfect drink is. We'd idly ogled them for a while, not having the space nor funds, but the kitchen is due a thorough re-do anyway (need to try and save up by the summer), and he got a good deal on a machine recommended by 2 friends. Don't intend to become a full-blown coffee person, but maybe a cup a day will make me a bit more efficient.

In other news, the copious amounts of snow from early December all melted when we had warmer temperatures for a week, but more snow arrived in time for Christmas, quite a bit of it again and the city is struggling to keep the streets and sidewalks clean, so it was a relief to just stay the f home. Extended fam meetup tomorrow though. Decided to bring a Schwarzwald cake, made a small test version yesterday, which turned out okay, and a big one with adjustments today, the base came out much better on second try.

[curegbm]

Susan Foster info for health -

July 7, 2020

When I was a junior in college I went to school in Vienna. One of my friends was Martina Nicholson. She became an OB/GYN, and just retired last year. She has a colleague, Dr. Richard Loftus, who is a biohazard virology-trained hospitalist. In other words he is treating COVID-19 patients in the hospital. I've read a lot of these accounts and this is the most powerful one I've ever read. It makes you want to hand out masks to everyone who's not wearing one. I am going to print this and carry copies with me when I'm walking. I will hand this out to people who don't have masks. If anybody gives me a hard time for my post on masks, you will get a copy of Dr. Loftus' brilliant, raw, painful account of what it's like treating these patients. What really struck me is how sick young previously healthy patients are 3 – 4 months post release from the hospital. Please be careful. Do not, for one more second, doubt this is real.

From Martina Nicholson, MD:

From my friend Dr Rick Loftus, MD. yesterday (7/2/20), update about Covid-19:

I'm in a hotspot hospital in a hotspot region (Coachella Valley, Inland Empire, CA). We just converted the entire second floor of our hospital to COVID-19 care yesterday, July 1. We have 65 inpatients with COVID-19 in a hospital with 368 beds. It is the same at our other 2 hospitals in the Valley. We spent yesterday deciding the ethical way to divide up limited remdesivir (30 patients' worth) for the hospital patients. My 20 incoming interns for our IM resident were exposed to COVID 2 weeks ago during their computer chart training; apparently 100% of our computer trainers had COVID19. One intern tested positive 7 days later and I insisted we re-test them all again, as there are almost certainly other cases with minimal symptoms. I raided my household and took my entire supply of face shields to the hospital for the residents to wear on their first day, and I paid $1000 of my own money to equip all of my residents with medical-grade face shields. I require all residents to wear a surgical mask or N95 with face shield if they are within 6 feet of another human, patient or coworker.

Roughly 20% of our inpatients die. Only 30% of our ventilated patients survive. (We try to avoid ventilation at all costs. Some people insist on being full code and decompensate despite high flow with face mask, proning, dexamethasone, antibiotics, and a cocktail of famotidine, zinc, Vitamin D, Vitamin C, NAC, and melatonin--we throw everything we can at each case, so long as it won't hurt them.)

My administrative assistant, who sits adjacent to the interns, just went home with COVID symptoms. Her test is pending.

In the Southwest, we are experiencing catastrophic exponential growth. I have had multiple families--siblings, parent-child, spouses--admitted with COVID-19. I had a 31 year old come in satting 78% on room air; he had been sequestering himself in his bedroom for a week to avoid infecting his elderly parents, with whom he lived. His sister, the only person he saw outside his immediate household in the 10 days prior to onset of fever, cough, and dyspnea, had also had fevers but had tested "negative" at our other large hospital so he thought it was safe to visit her. (Sigh. The Quest PCR test is about 80% sensitive, we think--it had emergency approval to sensitivity data was not required. The Cepheid rapid COVID PCR test is 98.5% sensitive but is in short supply due to limited reagent availability.)

I'm glad some of you are sheltered from what unbridled COVID-19 looks like. It's a hell show. This is *July*. What do you think my hospital will look like in winter?...

This is real. Doctors in places with proper public health responses will see few cases in their hospitals--like UCSF--but let me tell you something: The laws of physics and biology don't change. If you're in an unaffected region, an introduction and poor governance and low use of physical distancing and masks will give you an exponential increase in no time flat (i.e. 2-4 weeks). That's pandemic math. And 20% of the population infected needs a hospital. You *will* run out of beds with an unbridled pandemic. There is almost ZERO pre-existing immunity to SARS-CoV-2. There may be some "priming" of T-cell responses due to exposure to other "benign" beta-coronaviruses, but we have no idea if that explains the 20-40% of people who seem to get minimal symptoms. Asymptomatic infected persons, however, can, and do, spread COVID to those who die from it.

By the way: I've seen scary looking CT scans of the lungs that look like terrible interstitial pneumonia in a patient who had ZERO symptoms and SaO2 94% on room air. She came in for palpitations and the intern overnight got a chest CT for cardiac reasons. We didn't know it was COVID until her test came back 36 hours later. So "asymptomatic" does NOT mean "no biological activity." The virus replicates furiously in people who feel fine. Kids can spread this as easily as grown ups, even if they feel okay.

Related: I've talked to two previously healthy patients ages 32 and 44 who are 3 and 4 months, respectively, post their acute COVID. They continue to have cough, nightsweats, fever, fatigue. How many survivors have "post-COVID syndrome"? We don't know. Less than 20% but we're not sure. I've asked my hospital to allow me to establish a post-COVID clinic to care for and study survivors. Both NIH and UW are planning similar efforts based on my dialogues with them.

Autopsies show anoxic brain injury in many patients who died of COVID, not to mention microthrombi throughout the lungs and megakaryocytes in massive infiltrations in their hearts and other organs. People get heart failure, lung fibrosis, and permanent kidney injury from COVID-19. This is a disease of the vascular systems, and it can affect any organ, with lungs and kidneys being especially at risk.

In early May, thanks to lockdown, our census of 55 came down to 10 COVID cases, and for a brief moment, I actually had hope that the worst nightmares I had about COVID, as a biohazard virology-trained hospitalist, would not come to pass. Then we re-opened, without test/trace/isolate systems anywhere close to adequate. Eight weeks ago my county decided to make masks "optional," despite 125 doctors begging them not to do that. Now we're worse than we were in April. And it's getting worse every day.

You wanna see if COVID is real? Come walk on my COVID ward with me. It's real. Hearing people talk about it as if it's an exaggeration is, well, rage-inducing, honestly. Denial is the most common reaction to a pandemic. Denial is how the US will wind up with 1.1 million deaths instead of 30,000. I saw AIDS denialists get killed by their belief that HIV "isn't real, it's a pharma conspiracy of the medical industrial complex." Yeah, right, if you say so. I watched patients with those beliefs die.

The hardest part about this is, every new case I treat exposes me. I have assiduous hot zone technique. But no technique is bulletproof. If you keep exposing me to case after case, eventually, the virus will get through my defenses. I'm a 50 year old hypertensive. I don't expect to do well if I get infected. For now, I keep going to work. I'm one of the few pushing forward on COVID clinical trials, basic science, public health messaging, and diagnostic studies at my hospital. I feel a responsibility to keep going. I wake up with nightmares every morning at 4am. But I'm going to keep going for now. I feel very alone a lot of the time. People are not taking this seriously, and it's costing lives. -R

"Everything we do before a pandemic will seem alarmist. Everything we do after a pandemic will seem inadequate. This is the dilemma we face, but it should not stop us from doing what we can to prepare. We need to reach out to everyone with words that inform, but not inflame. We need to encourage everyone to prepare, but not panic." — Michael O. Leavitt, 2007

--

Richard A. Loftus, MD

"Never be afraid to raise your voice for honesty and truth and compassion against injustice and lying and greed. If people all over the world...would do this, it would change the earth." --William Faulkner