#painted up like a fucking crime scene

[overuseduniverse]

tbh I'm scared of ever being in a relationship again bc I don't think I'd find anyone else who'd actually be okay with the amount of sh scars I have 👍

[strangestcase]

The worst crime a version of Jekyll and Hyde can commit is be unappealing. If you aren’t anticipating the next scene no matter how unpleasant it will be then it has failed.

[rileyslibrary]

may i request ghost seeing reader making something (maybe a get well soon card or a papercrane or sth idk) and then someone accidentally ruining it? like how would he react? what would he do next etc

doesnt have to be a fic if you decide to write it, could be bulletpoints or something ez🥰🥰

thankyouu🥺✨

I love getting requests like this one; thank you @lululandd! Also, there’s a very important A/N at the end, so meet me there. Buh-bye for now, enjoy! 🍫

———————————————————————

Price got hurt. It was a terrible hit, and everything happened so fast. You were there, at the crime scene, as everything unfolded right before your very eyes.

His injury, however, wasn’t the result of a mission gone wrong; no. Some idiot forgot to put the warning sign on the wet floor, which caused the poor man to fly into the air and crash to the floor.

The good news is that he's recovering quickly and is now being held at the medical centre until he's ready to be released.

The bad news? Without a captain to guide the team, there was no mission to undergo. And, without a mission, none of you had a clear direction or purpose, leaving you all floating in a sea of mundane tasks and boredom. So, for the past few days, you and the rest of the team have been doing mind-numbing chores ranging from scrubbing the kitchen’s greasy ovens to meticulously organising the cluttered armoury.

While Soap and Gaz are on patrol, you and Ghost are taking a break in the mess hall. He’s cleaning his gun by disassembling it and wiping all its metal components with an alcohol solution. You sit across from him, working on a different kind of project: making a get-well-soon card for Price.

Last night, you snuck into HR’s office and “borrowed” some supplies to help you with your craft: a piece of white paper from the printer, some markers, and a pot of blue-coloured glitter dust you found in one of the drawers. It was a mystery as to why the military’s Human Resources department possessed glitter. Still, it will undoubtedly prove helpful with your "crafty" mission.

You also went to the doctor and requested some “normal-sized” bandages to help with your secret project. The doctor leaned back in his chair, raising one eyebrow. He asked why you wanted the bandages, but you were so vague with your answer that he became suspicious of you. So he pulled his desk’s drawer and gave you one fucking bandage—just one. So you had to make it count.

You folded the white paper in half and carefully attached the bandage horizontally to create the outline of Price’s body. The only thing left is to paint his face on the bandage and draw a hospital bed underneath it. That, and getting the team together to write some kind messages on the card.

Ghost looks at you every now and then, mildly intrigued by your artistic creation. You catch his eye, and he quickly turns away.

“Do you like it?” you ask.

“It’s a bandage on a piece of paper,” he says, shrugging. “What is there to like?”

“It’s not just a bandage on a piece of paper,” you explain and gesture to the figure on the paper; “it’s supposed to be Price lying in his hospital bed, recovering.”

His response comes in the form of a lengthy, dismissive snort. He points to the glitter pot in front of you.

“Why the glitter?” he asks.

“It’s for the bedsheets,” you murmur.

“I didn’t know they transferred Price to a love hotel,” he mocks, turning away from you to resume his task. You roll your eyes in response and shift your focus to your craft. This is the same guy you’ll later ask to write a few pleasant words on that card. Fun stuff.

You can still feel his gaze on you as you work on the captain’s card. Despite his best efforts to appear apathetic, you notice him leaning in slightly, pretending to stretch or yawn while sneaking peeks at your project. His body language betrays him; even though he tries to be tough and keep up the act, you know that deep down, he’s a huge softie who can’t resist a heartfelt gesture. He coughs, pretending to clear his throat, and you stifle a laugh at his failed attempt to seem disinterested. You roll your eyes and slam your hand on the table.

“What’s your problem, Lieutenant?” you ask with an amused smirk on your lips.

“I just don’t understand,” he says as he wipes the gun barrel. “Why bother making a card from scratch when you can buy one?”

“Because it’s more meaningful,” you explain. “When you take the time to create something yourself, it shows that you care. It’s not a generic card; it’s a heartfelt statement.”

He lets out a sarcastic scoff.

“I’d do the same thing for you, you know.” You whisper.

He puts down his rifle and looks at you. “You would?” He asks, surprised.

You nod. “Of course, I would,” you reply, “but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that; I’d rather you stay injury-free.”

He chuckles and turns to look at the mess hall doors as they open, with Soap and Gaz carrying a large box and approaching you both.

They slam the box on the table without assessing its weight, causing the entire surface to shake. The impact knocks Ghost’s alcohol solution over, spilling it all over the table and, even worse, all over your hand-made card.

Your heart sinks to your stomach as you helplessly watch the liquid soak into the card, smudging the ink and warping the paper. Ghost throws the gun on the table and grabs your card as quickly as he can. Soap curses under his breath, and Gaz grabs some paper towels from another table, attempting to rescue anything he can. But it’s too late; the damage is done.

You look up to see Ghost standing there, pinching your card between his fingers.

He is livid.

“What the fucking fucking shit, sergeants?” He murmurs.

“Apologies,” Soap replies, utterly unaware of what he’s done, “Hope we didn’t ruin anything important.”

“This,” Ghost says quietly as he raises the destroyed card, “was a get-well-soon card for Price.”

“Sorry guys,” Gaz apologises as he wipes the table off. “Soap and I will go buy another o-”

“SHE MADE THIS!” Ghost yells at him, “SHE MADE THIS WITH HER OWN HANDS!”

Soap furrows his brow. “Why would you make a card when you can buy one?” he wonders.

Ghost slaps his thigh, muttering profanities under his breath. You try to convince him that it’s alright and that a store-bought card will do just fine, but he cuts you off and looks at the sergeants.

“Why make a card instead of just buying one?” He asks and brings the tips of his fingers together, waving his hand back and forth in front of the two sergeants. “Because a hand-made card is more meaningful and personal than buying a generic one, you dimwits,” he lectures them and turns to you.

“Can you make another one, Y/N?” He asks softly.

You lower your head to the ground. “I’m afraid I’ve run out of banda-”

“SHE DOESN’T HAVE ANY MORE BANDAGES, YA PRICKS!”

“And I had only one sheet of paper.”

“AND SHE HAD ONL-” he pauses. “How come you only got one sheet?” He asks, and you explain that you weren’t supposed to be on the HR premises, so you had to act quickly. Ghost lets out a deep sigh as he looks at the ruined card.

“Sergeant Mactavish, go get a few sheets of paper from my office,” he instructs before turning to Gaz. “Sergeant Garrick,” he orders, “go to the medic; tell him that your new boots have caused blisters on your feet, and you need a few bandages to patch them up.”

They both nod and leave to go fetch your supplies. Ghost turns to you and crumbles your—already—destroyed card.

“Don’t be sad, kid,” he comforts you, “I’ll help you make another one.”

“Really, Lt.?” You ask, grinning.

“Damn right I will,” he says as he takes off his gloves, “and it’ll have bandages and bedsheets full of fucking glitter and everything nice on it.”

———————————————————————

A/N: The card was inspired by this tutorial from Jennie Moraitis; all credit goes to her. Here’s a picture of the card from her website!

[madlori]

Hey how about some ART TALK

Art history is a bit of a hobby of mine. Last weekend I went to the Frick in Pittsburgh because they had a special exhibition we wanted to see, and in the gift shop I picked up a book that told the story of a series of acknowledged masterpieces. The first one in the book is Birth of Venus, the second is Mona Lisa, and the scream I scrumpt when I turned the page to see the third:

Let me tell you about Artemisia Fucking Gentileschi.

She was a 17th century painter and one of the first women to be admitted to a Florentian art society and is widely regarded as one of the finest of the Italian baroque painters. She was raised by her father, who was also a painter who studied Caravaggio, and early in her career she had to put up with people saying that her paintings surely must have been painted by her father (despite her father himself saying she was a peerless artist and super accomplished).

As a young woman she was raped by a colleague of her father's. Her father sued the rapist because he hadn't married her (THIS was the crime, not the rape itself, of course) and Artemisia was tortured with thumbscrews to verify her testimony. Some of the...ahem...feelings about this entire episode definitely come through in her work.

Contrary to how these stories usually go, Artemisia had a long and productive career, was well paid for her work, enjoyed the patronage of the Medici family, and traveled widely. History, however, has only recently come to appreciate her and name her among the great painters of the period.

Let's talk about THIS FUCKING PAINTING, though. Judith Beheading Holofernes. Probably her most famous work.

The story is one of Judith, a Jewish woman, who got the general of the army about to invade her city to come have dinner with her, got him drunk, and chopped his head off. Then she paraded his head out to the army, like a boss. It's been painted a number of times but this one...this one really brings the rage. Look at Judith, the strength in her arms, how she's got a look of steely concentration. If you look closely, you can see she has her knee up on the bed behind him to get more leverage. Her maidservant is helping hold him down. Neither of them look horrified or hesitant, they're ready to cut this motherfucker. (also that's definitely Artemisia as Judith. She put herself in a lot of her paintings)

It's an apt interpretation of the verse from the Book of Judith, which is admiringly succinct:

Her sandal ravished his eye, Her beauty made captive his soul, The sword passed through his neck. — Book of Judith, 16:9[7]

It's got a real "the tiger is out" energy, right?

Now let's look at the same scene, painted by Caravaggio, who was no slouch at painting, but...come on.

Judith looks like a scared teenager. She's holding him at arm's length as if that's gonna work. Her maid is a crone, lurking at her shoulder like Wormtongue. This does not, imho, compare to the power of Gentileschi's version.

Artemisia painted another image of Judith holding the severed head. And a lot of other paintings. I'm just thrilled to see this one in this book, as it's one of my favorites. We have one of her paintings here in Columbus and I always visit it when I go (when it's up, that is).

[couldsewyouastitchandsavenine]

Blank Spaces [Javier Peña]

a/n: she’s done it, she’s written smut. y’all can blame the couch. yeah, that couch. be gentle with me. it’s my first time.

pairing: javi peña x reader

word count: 5.1K

warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, mastrubation, strong language, references to violence and trauma, drinking & smoking, infidelity, pining

The crime scene is a blood bath and it looks as if every police officer in the city is here. There are red lights and blue lights, flashing through the jungle, and the cicadas screaming into the acrid night. There are loud voices and sounds, and there is silence, loudest of them all. 

You crouch over a body.

Or… well, what’s left of one before the narcos had their way with it. 

They like to send a message, and this one couldn’t be clearer if they’d painted it in ten-foot high letters with all the blood that’s pooling around your scuffed boots: no one fucks with the Medellín cartel. Not judges who can’t be bought. Not politicians who don’t know their place. Not innocent bystanders who get caught in the crossfire of this endless, senseless drug war. And sure as shit not some insignificant DEA agent from America who can’t mind his own fucking business.

Adjusting the focus with hands that tremble from exhaustions and other things you don’t care to examine too closely, you try to remember the last time you slept.

It’s been days, but it feels like weeks; months. A fucking year.

—

You hear him before you see him, the sound of his footsteps as familiar as your own heartbeat. Even in the chaos of the crime scene, with the crunch of gravel under dozens of boots and crackle of police radios, you would know him anywhere. It’s in the way he moves, the cadence of his walk. Authoritative. Unhesitating. Like he’s going somewhere important and he knows exactly how to get there. 

Even with your eyes on your work, you can’t help but track him from the corner of your eye. Watch him as he exchanges greetings and handshakes with other agents and members of CNP. You catalogue the details like you’d do when staring at the surveillance photo; you just can’t help it. The hair that’s just a tad little too long, curling slightly against the nape of his neck. The moustache that should look sleazy but instead makes him seem rakish. Dangerous. The ever-present cigarette dangling carelessly from his fingers. 

His gaze lands on you and your breath catches in your throat as you fumble with the rewinder. And then he’s walking through the sea of uniforms and grim faces until he’s standing next to you. Zippo between his fingers flicks to life and he inhales a lungful of smoke, exhaling through his nose seconds later. 

“Tell me you got something,” he says by way of greeting. 

You stand, joints protesting, and turn to face Javier Peña.

“And good evening to you too,” you reply, aiming for sarcasm but landing closer to weary resignation. “I got plenty, but you ain’t gonna like any of it.”

He squints at the tarp-covered lump that used to be a human. Clenches his jaw. Rubs a hand over his face and you watch his throat work as he swallows. He looks how you feel, you think. Wrung out and nauseous.

Catching yourself staring, you quickly look away, heat crawling up the back of your neck. You then snap a few final shots of the scene, just to have something to do with your hands, and pull the camera strap over your head.

"Buy you a drink?" he asks, already turning to leave, confident you'll follow.

So, you do. Just like always.

—

The bar is a dive, but that's nothing new. It’s the kind of place where the floor sticks to your shoes and the air tastes like stale cigarettes and broken dreams. Javi sits with his back to the wall, one booted foot resting on his opposite knee, his posture seemingly relaxed. You know better. 

He knocks back two fingers of bottom-shelf whiskey like it's the water. You do the same. It burns going down but you almost welcome the pain. Anything to feel something that isn't the cold, creeping despair.

You don’t talk much, but that suits you just fine. There is no energy left for conversations. Or empty platitudes about how you’re fighting the good fights, how your work matters. It’s all so goddamn futile.

Still, there are worse ways to spend an evening than getting wasted with Javier Peña, you suppose. Even though you’ve heard the rumours about him. That he’s a cowboy. A hothead. Quick with his fists and even quicker with his dick.

But, you’ve also seen another side to him these past months, ever since you got assigned to assist DEA as the body count rises and the streets run red. You’ve watched him sketch portraits of the victims so their families will have something to bury. Seen how he never flinches from the brutality of his job, just squares his shoulders and wades back in. Seen him wrap a trembling, half-naked body of a young girl with his jacket, shielding her.

He's a good man, Javi. Rough around the edges, sure, but who isn't in this place? You’re all hip deep in shit creek without a paddle,  just trying to keep your nostrils above the stink, long enough to do some good.

“Another one?” 

He doesn’t wait for your answer, just signals for another round. His knuckles are bruised and you wonder who he hit this time. 

When you lift your gaze, you find his eyes are already on you, dark and glittering in the dimness of the bar. And it feels as if he’s pinning you down, flaying you open. Reading. Observing. Trying to see right into the marrow of your bones. It sends a shiver down your spine and you look away. Wrap your trembling fingers around the cool, rigid surface of your glass, condensation dripping onto the scarred table.

Javi’s hand then reaches for yours, and for a reason you can’t explain, you don’t pull away. Don’t tell him to fuck off, to keep hands to himself. Instead, you let him. Let him trace idle patterns across your wrist, each point of contact searing you like a brand. You should stop this. Should make an excuse and leave before you do something stupid. 

But you’re tired. So fucking tired. Of death and of ugliness; of feeling numb. You want to feel alive, if just for a little while. Want to feel something. Anything. 

When he speaks again, his voice is low, suggestive. “Wanna get out of here?”

Warning bells clang in your head like a distant echo of self-preservation, but you ignore them as you nod once, decisive. “Yeah.”

—

Javier’s apartment is bigger than yours but darker. The AC-unit rattles but it barely makes a dent in the oppressive heat as you stumble inside. Sweat prickles along your hairline and between your breasts as he crowds you against the door. 

His mouth is on yours before you can overthink it. Whiskey and smoke. Tongue and teeth. It’s not gentle but that’s okay. You don’t want gentle. You want to be consumed. Want to forget. And he is ready to give you what you want because his hands are like a fever on your warm skin, pushing under your shirt to palm and cup your breasts—callouses rasping against your nipples. You arch into him. Shameless. 

Fumbling with his belt, you get a hand into his underwear and take him into your fist. He’s hard, and hot, and throbbing against your palm. You stroke once, twice and he groans into your mouth. 

“Fuck. ”

Moments later, Javi’s boot slams against the doors to his bedroom. Walks you back to the bed; a graceless tangle of limbs as he bears you down into the mattress. Rips your shirt as he yanks it over your head. Still, you can’t care less. Because it’s what you want. What you need.

Heat. Fever. His skin against yours. 

After that, everything narrows to physical sensation and a handful of filthy words. The slick slide of your tongues. The ache between your thighs as he wrings orgasm after shuddering orgasm from your willing body. You scratch angry marks down his back and he hisses but doesn’t stop you. Just grips your hips hard enough to bruise and thrusts into you harder. 

It’s messy and it’s desperate. Artless. There’s no finesse, just a furious coupling. An exorcism. You cry out his name over and over again and for a few blissful minutes the rest of the world ceases to exist. 

Afterwards you lay side by side, not touching. Chest heaving. You stare up at the nicotine stained ceiling and will yourself not to cry. It’s just sex, for fuck’s sake. A means to an end. You don’t need it to mean anything more. 

You’re still telling yourself that an hour later as you hunt for your underwear in the golden glow of his bedroom. They’re a lost cause, ripped and unwearable. You ball them up and shove them in your pocket as a memento of Javier’s impatience. 

Behind you, Javi lights up a cigarette. Clears his throat. 

You ignore him. Focus on the task of getting dressed; of putting yourself back together piece by piece.

But then he says your name. And it's so foreign coming from his mouth that it stops you in your tracks. It's as if he's tasting your name on his tongue for the first time, savouring the way it feels; the way it sounds.

You tense, your back to him as you button up your jeans with shaking fingers, trying to brace yourself for the inevitable brush-off. 

“This can’t happen again.”

Even expecting it, the words still land like a punch to the gut. You force yourself to turn around and face him. He's sitting on the edge of the bed, sheet pooled around his waist, looking as wrecked as you feel, and it would be funny if it didn't hurt so fucking much.

“I know,” you say.

And you hate how small your voice sounds, how pathetic. Hate yourself for even thinking that this could be anything other than what it was — two broken people using each other to feel something other than despair for a little while.

So you leave without another word. Walk home in the hazy dawn light, feeling emptier than ever. Later, in the shower, you stand under the spray until the water runs cold. Let it wash away the smell of him on your skin. You place Javier Peña and the ghost of his hands on your body into a box in your mind and lock it tight, throwing away the key.

Tell yourself it's for the best.

And if you slide your hand inside your panties night after night to thoughts of his mouth between your thighs and his fingers digging into your hips, well. No one needs to know.

—

Six months later…

"So I hear congratulations are in order."

The words startle you so badly that you nearly drop the tongs you're holding. 

You've been hiding out by the grill for the past twenty minutes, using the excuse of tending the hamburgers to avoid making small talk with Steve's DEA buddies from Miami. It's his birthday cookout, and it's the last place you want to be, but Connie had insisted, and you couldn't think of a believable excuse fast enough.

You paste on a smile that feels more like a grimace and turn to face Javier Peña, smirking at you over the rim of a sweating bottle of Corona. You've barely seen him in weeks, your paths crossing only when strictly necessary, and even then, you've done your best to avoid being alone with him. Still, you can’t deny that he looks good. Too good. The bastard.

"Excuse me?" you say, trying to keep your tone light. Casual. Like your heart isn't suddenly pounding in your chest. Like your palms aren't slick with sweat that has nothing to do with the heat of the grill.

Javi leans a hip against the table, his body loose and relaxed in a way you never see him at work. "You and Golden Boy. Connie says it's getting serious."

Golden Boy. That's what they call Michael Whitman, the attorney sent to DEA from the Langley office that the Murphys have been not-so-subtly throwing in your path for months. You'd finally agreed to a drink with him just to shut them up, and had been pleasantly surprised to find that you actually have things in common beyond a mutual love of cheap tequila and bad action movies.

He's not the kind of guy you usually go for — too clean-cut, too earnest, with a boyish charm that makes you feel old and jaded in comparison. But he's funny and smart, and most importantly, uncomplicated. There's no baggage there, no messy history. Just easy conversation and the promise of something simple. Something you can control.

"I don't know if I'd call it serious," you say carefully. "We've only been on a few dates."

Javi takes a long pull from his beer, his throat working as he swallows, and you look away, suddenly fascinated by the pattern of char marks on the hamburgers.

"He's here today."

It's not a question, but you answer anyway.

"Yeah, Connie invited him." Your voice sounds distant to your own ears, like it's coming from somewhere far away.

Javi makes a noncommittal noise, a hum that could mean anything or nothing at all. You risk a glance at him, and immediately wish you hadn't. He's looking at you with an intensity that makes you want to squirm. Then, his gaze drops to your mouth. Lingers there for a moment that stretches into eternity, and you feel heat crawling up your neck. 

"He seems nice," Javi says finally, his tone carefully neutral, and you almost laugh at the banality of it. Nice. The ultimate kiss of death, the faint praise that damns with its very blandness.

"He is." The words come out more forcefully than you intend, and you punctuate them by flipping a burger with a vicious twist of your wrist. Hot grease splatters your bare arm, and you swear under your breath, reaching for a napkin to blot at the stinging pain.

But Javi is already there, his long fingers wrapping around your wrist in a touch that is achingly familiar, a sense memory that transports you back to that night, to the heat of his skin against yours.

He examines the angry red welt rising on your forearm, his brows drawn together in a frown of concern. "You need to run this under cold water."

You try to pull away, but his grip is implacable, his fingers like bands of steel around your wrist. "It's fine," you mutter, avoiding his gaze.

Your name falls from his lips, low and serious, and the sound of it sends a spike of heat straight through you, pooling in your belly. 

Memories of the last time he spoke to you in that voice, mouthed your name into the sweat-slick curve of your neck as he moved inside you, threaten to overwhelm you, and you ruthlessly shove them aside. 

That way lies madness, a rabbit hole of longing and regret that you can't afford to tumble down.

"I said it's fine, Javi." You finally manage to twist out of his grasp, taking a deliberate step back. 

Hurt flashes in his dark eyes. It’s brief, but there nonetheless. Then, he nods once, a sharp jerk of his chin. Message received.

"I'll leave you to it, then." He turns to go and you exhale shakily.

But then he stops, his back to you, his shoulders tense beneath the thin fabric of his t-shirt. 

"I'm glad you're happy," he says quietly, his voice barely audible over the hum of conversation and the sizzle of grease on the grill. "You deserve it."

And then he's gone, striding across the lawn without a backward glance, leaving you staring after him, your heart in your throat and a hollow ache in your chest.

Are you happy? You’re not unhappy, that’s for sure. 

So why does it feel like Javi just ripped the scab off of a wound you thought had long since healed, exposing the raw, festering hurt beneath. You shake your head in disgust at your own weakness. At the part of you that still years for his touch, his taste. The way he made you feel alive in a way you never had before. 

This is ridiculous. You are being ridiculous. It was one night, months ago. A mistake. A moment of weakness that meant nothing. Less than nothing. And you need to get over it. Need to move on.

So, you focus on the task at hand, determined to push all thoughts of Javier Peña out of your mind. And as your brain struggles to do so, a pair of arms circle your waist from behind. You stiffen for a moment, but then relax, recognising Michael’s clean scent of soap and aftershave. 

“Hey you,” he mumbles, nuzzling your ear, blissfully oblivious to your inner turmoil. 

“Hey yourself,” you answer. Force yourself to relax into his embrace. Tip your head back onto his shoulder and let him press a chaste kiss to your cheek. Curse your traitorous body for yearning for another man's touch, a man who made it clear he doesn't want anything more from you than a quick fuck.

You just need time, that's all. Time and distance. A chance to let the wounds Javi inflicted heal properly, without constantly picking at the scabs.

And if your heart feels like it's breaking in your chest, if every breath is an effort, a reminder of the emptiness that yawns inside you... well. That's no one's business but your own.

—

You join the others at the picnic table and you let the conversation wash over you. Laugh in all the right places. Deflect Connie's good-natured ribbing about your cooking skills. Studiously ignore Javi where he sits at the other end of the table, a pretty secretary hanging on his every word. You think the girl's name is Maritza. Or Mariana. Something with an M. You try not to care.

It doesn't matter. You and Javi are ancient history. You were never even history to begin with. Just two people seeking oblivion in each others' bodies for a few hours. Hardly the stuff of epic romance.

So you smile and nod and make a show of enjoying Michael's arm around your shoulders. Listen attentively as he tells a funny story about a deposition gone wrong.

He really is a good guy, Michael. Steady. Dependable. The kind of man you could maybe build a future with someday, if you could just get Javier fucking Peña out of your system. Out of your head. Out of your goddamn heart.

But every time you look in Javi's direction he's already watching you, dark eyes inscrutable. It's unnerving. Like he's trying to see right into your battered, cynical soul. You drop your gaze to her plate, appetite gone. Push potato salad around with your fork as your stomach churns.

The seconds drag by with agonising slowness but finally, blessedly, the party starts to wind down. People drift off in twos and threes until it's just you, Michael and the Murphys left. You make your excuses, pleading an early morning at work. Hug Connie and wish Steve a final happy birthday. Determinedly don’t look around for Javi. He slipped away at some point without saying goodbye, Maritza, Mariana, whoever giggling on his arm as he escorted her to his car.

And that's just fine. It's not like you expected anything else.

Michael drives you home, one hand resting warmly on your knee. You lean your forehead against the cool glass of the passenger window, watching the city lights blur past, and try not to compare the feel of his fingers to another's. Rougher. More gun-callused. It's a losing battle, and you know it.

When he walks you to your door, you half expect him to try and invite himself in. Brace herself to demure. Things between you haven't progressed much beyond some heated kisses on your couch but you know he wants more. Can feel him holding himself back, trying not to scare you off.

But he just smiles. Touches your cheeks with tenderness that makes your heart ache. Tells you he'll call you tomorrow to arrange some plans for the weekend. You nod vaguely, murmur a goodnight and escape into your apartment. 

The door closes behind you with a muffled click, and you sag back against it, the exhaustion hitting you like a physical blow. You feel wrung out. Hollowed out. Like someone has reached inside you and scooped out all your vital organs, leaving you empty and aching.

"Get it together," you grit out. Push yourself off the door and head for the bathroom, stripping off your clothes as you go. A shower. That's what you need. A long, hot shower to scour the day from your skin. 

You stand under the spray until the water runs cold, forehead pressed to the slick tiles. Think about the night six months ago when you let Javi fuck your sadness and self-loathing into something resembling peace. 

And the memories come in flashes. Teeth sharp at your throat. Fingers dragging down your sides, digging into your hips, holding you steady as he pushed inside you, stretching you, filling you, his eyes locked on yours in the dark, seeing you, all of you, in a way no one else ever had.

You shove a hand between your legs almost angrily. Find yourself wet and wanting. It only takes a few rough strokes before you’re coming with a bitten off cry, Javi's name trapped behind your teeth.

And only after, when it’s over, you stand with your face tipped up into the spray of water, allowing yourself to cry. 

—

The next morning you’re in your cramped closet of a darkroom, a negative strip held up to the low light. You look for patterns in the grain. Clues to illuminate the black and white. Explanations that make sense. Pieces to solve the bloody puzzle. You hang the sheet with steady hands and reach for another. This is your comfort. Your penance. Your grace. In this red-tinged womb of a room you reconstruct narratives and build cases, one damning frame at a time. Javier Peña and his big sad eyes and dangerous hands have no place here.

Except the door is opening behind you, a sliver of fluorescence creeping across the floor to illuminate those shoes. Black boots. Great. Just what you need today.

You sigh and square your shoulders.

“Something I can help you with, agent?”

You don't turn around. Focus instead on the photos in front of your face. If you ignore him maybe he'll take the hint and fuck off.  But Javier Peña has never been one to fuck off when you want him to.

Instead, he steps fully into the room and closes the door with a soft snick. The darkness swallows you once more. And once more he says your name. Low and rough like the rasp of his calluses on your skin. You shiver despite yourself. Set down the negatives with fingers that tremble.

“What do you want, Javi?”

There's a rustle of fabric as he shifts his weight, and you can picture him perfectly, even with your back turned. You imagine him placing his hands on his hips, his head cocked to the side. That stupid stance he adopts when he's trying to be casual. Harmless. As if a man like Javier Peña could ever be harmless.

“I want to talk.”

“So talk.”

A frustrated exhale. “Can you at least look at me? Please?”

The ‘please’ snags at your chest like a fishhook. Pulls you around to face him against your better judgement. He's haloed in the dull red glow, edges lined in shadow, and he looks like something out of a fever dream. Or a nightmare. You can't decide which.

“I'm looking. Talk.”

He drags a hand through his hair, already mussed from the humidity. Or maybe from someone else's fingers, and you stomp down on the curl of jealousy that licks up your spine, hot and bitter.

“I don't like how we left things.” 

You nod only once and look down at your hands. “Well, you made yourself pretty clear, Javi. “This—,” you gesture between you, “can't happen again.”

“That's not…” He makes a frustrated noise, moustache twitching as he presses his lips together. “I didn't mean for it to sound like that.”

You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling exposed, vulnerable, in the thin cotton of your tee. "How did you mean for it to sound?" 

He takes a step forward, then another when you don’t immediately back away. “I'm not good at this. Relationships. Emotions.” He says the word like it tastes foul in his mouth. Like it’s a foreign concept he can’t quite wrap his head around. “I’m fucked up. You know that.”

"Everyone's fucked up," you counter, your tone flat, unimpressed. "What's your point?"

"My point," he grits out, his jaw clenching, his hands curling into fists at his sides, "is that I care about you. More than I should. More than is wise, considering our line of work."

"You care about me." It comes out flat. Disbelieving. "Peña, I've got work to do...," you trail off, hoping he will take the hint. 

He doesn’t. Instead, he sighs, shoulders slumping. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Yes, you want to say. Yes, it's hard to believe that a man like you could care about someone like me. A man who could have anyone, anything, with just a flash of that devastating smile. A man who fucks his trauma into faceless, nameless women and tosses them aside like so much garbage when he's done.

But that's not fair, and you know it. Javi's not that man, not really. Oh, he plays the part well enough, all swagger and smirks and devil-may-care attitude. But you've seen beneath the mask, seen the wounded, vulnerable boy lurking in the dark wells of his eyes. The boy who's seen too much. Lost too much. The boy who's just trying to survive in a world that wants to eat him alive.

“Javi,” you start, then stop. Swallow hard. “What do you want from me?”

He's close enough now that you can feel the heat of him. Can smell the familiar mix of cigarettes and cologne that always makes you want to bury your face in the crook of his neck and breathe him in. His eyes are intent on your face, searching for something you're not sure you can give, something you're not sure you have to offer.

"I want..." He pauses, his throat working as he swallows, his eyes never leaving yours. "Fuck. I want everything." His hands come up to cradle your face, his thumbs sweeping over your cheekbones. "I'm so tired of pretending I don't feel this," he murmurs, his breath ghosting over your lips, his forehead pressing against yours. "So goddamn tired."

And you know the feeling. That soul-deep exhaustion that comes from holding yourself apart. From denying what you want, who you want, because it's safer that way. Except it's not safe at all, is it? It's just a different kind of pain.

"What about your reputation?" you ask, trying to be cheeky. Trying to lighten the mood, but your voice comes out breathless. Shaky. "Wouldn't want to soil that with something as pedestrian as feelings."

Javi huffs a laugh, warm and fond. “Fuck my reputation. Fuck everyone else's expectations.” He leans in, nose brushing yours. Voice dropping to a rumble you feel in your bones. “I just want you.”

It's too much. The words. The weight of his gaze. The nearness of him. It's everything you've ever wanted and everything you've ever feared, and you can't take it anymore. 

You fist your hands in his shirt and yank him down into a bruising kiss. He makes a hungry noise against your mouth, a growl that vibrates through your entire body, and angles his head, deepening the kiss until you're dizzy with it. Until you can't tell where you end and he begins.

He tears his mouth away from yours, blazing a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, his teeth scraping against your pulse point, his tongue soothing the sting. 

"Fuck, you feel good," he mumbles into your skin, his breath hot and damp against your flesh. "Been wanting this, wanting you."

"Javi, please..." 

"Please what?" He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck. Your shoulder. Slips his hand beneath the waistband of your underwear, his fingers finding your slick heat. Circles your clit with a teasing touch, a barely-there pressure that makes you want to scream. "Tell me what you need."

You writhe against him, shameless. "You," you gasp, your voice raw, ragged. "I need you."

And then he is lifting you onto the counter, scattering negatives and bottles of chemicals. You’ll care about that later. Right now all you can focus on is the heat of his skin against yours as he peels you out of your tee. The scrape of his stubble on the tender skin of your throat. The sound of his belt being unbuckled and the rustle of his jeans. The perfect stretch and ache as he pushes inside you, filling you up until there's no room for anything else. No room for doubt or fear or the certain knowledge that this will end in disaster.

You wrap your legs around his waist and urge him deeper, your fingers digging into the shifting muscles of his back. 

“Fuck—” he grits out, hips snapping into yours at a punishing pace.

You gape, unable to breathe, the cry lodged somewhere in your throat as your head rolls into his neck, your entire body surrendering to the pleasure. He doesn't stop, though. Just keeps going. Thrusting. Claiming. Filthy words in a mix of English and Spanish falling from his lips and into your ear. Words you both understand and have no idea what they mean.

Javi slides a hand between your sweat-slicked bodies, finds your clit and rubs in tight, focused circles, and you keen. Tip your back against the wall as pleasure crashes through you in waves. He follows a moment later, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin as he pulses inside you. 

You stay like that for a long moment, trading lazy kisses as your heart rates slow and your breathing evens out.  Finally Javi pulls back to look at you. Smiles the way you’d never seen him smile before. 

"This is probably a terrible idea," you say, only half-joking.

His mouth quirks. "Probably.

"We'll probably blow up in each other's faces.”

"Most likely.”

You sigh, looping your arms around his neck. "But you still want to try?" you ask, your voice small, uncertain, afraid to hope.

He kisses you again, slow and sweet. Rests his forehead against yours. "More than anything."

And God help you, but you believe him. Believe in this impossible, improbable thing between you despite every instinct screaming that you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak.

But that's a worry for another day. Right now, at this moment, you have everything you want. Everything you need.

The rest you’ll figure out together.

[samandcolbyownme]

I spent a lot of time writing and rewriting this. Adding detail taking too much detail, so I figured I’d just start right when it gets good and go from there and make a KILLIONAIRES series.

This is Part One.

Warnings are for the WHOLE SERIES | SMUT18+, strong language, swearing, enemies to lovers, mentions of weapons, knives, guns, gunfire, KNIFE PLAY, blood, injuries, wounds, arguing, some physical fighting, mentions of drugs, smoking weed, mentions of car accident, fbi!reader, reader being restrained, kissing, biting, hair pulling, scratching, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (m rec), violence and filth

Word Count: 5.7k | unedited

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

It’s been one body after another, sometimes two or three at once scene, if they are feeling up for it.

It’s been weeks and you and your team still don’t know who they are.

Billionaires are the target, why? No idea.

That was until you walked into the latest crime scene and the first thing that caught your attention was ‘They're not an inspiration, they're soulless scumbags’ spray painted on the wall in red.

“Heathers.” You snap and the officer turns towards you, “What’s up, y/n?” He looks from you to the wall and you tilt your head, “Did Gerald have any investments in anything?”

Heathers shakes his head, goes down over the report again, “Um.. oh wait.” He turns the paper towards you, pointing at something that sticks out.

“These people are after billionaires because they’re taking away from the people who barely have enough money to get by.” You turn towards the officer, “I need a list of people around here who have a background with the police.”

“Anything else?” He takes out his note pad and writes down what you told him. You shake your head, “No, as of right now I’m going to finish my look over here and then I’m going back to the station.”

“I can wait for you, take you back myself.” He shrugs and you nod, “Okay.” You smile as you walk away, finishing gathering everything you need.

You fill the chief in on what you told Heathers to do and he nods, “You’re onto something, y/l/n.” He looks around, “That thing Heathers pointed out, that I think was a plan that was talked about months ago.”

“What plan?” You tilt your head and he sighs, “A few people came together to buy an area of older apartment buildings on the west side of town.”

“The west side is where-“

“Exactly.”

You purse your lips, “Okay. I have everything here. I’m going to go back with Heathers to the station and start coming up with a list of possible suspects.”

“Thanks for coming on such short notice. You’re one of the best. We’re lucky to have you.” Chief smiles and you nod, “It’s the least I could do. You helped find the guy who shot my brother.”

“A few other officers are heading back to the station now.” Heathers walks up and you nod, “Alright. I just filled the chief in on everything.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

You both nod to the chief and head towards the car. As you get in, you let out a sigh, “I just can’t help but feel like we’re so close, you know?”

Heathers nods, “No, I know exactly what you mean.”

“Thank you for watching out for me. I know you and Ben were close.” You smile over at him, “I truly appreciate it, Heathers.”

He chuckles, “Would you please call me by my first name?” He shakes his head, coming to a stop at a red light, “Cody is not that card to remember.”

You laugh, “Sorry. Ben always calls you that, so it just stuck.”

“I just hope he’s back on his feet here soon.” He sighs, “Sucks that that even hap-“

Your body is jolted to the side, the air bags go off and glass flies everywhere. The sound of tires screeching to a stop fill your ears before you’re slammed back against the seat, falling unconscious.

——

You weren’t sure how long you were out for, but you were hurting.

You groaned as you lifted your head, but the pain in your neck caused it to fall back down. You heard distant bickering, “I told you not to hit the fucking passenger side of the car..”

“You fucking moron, you could have killed her. That’s not what we are trying to do.”

“Fucking Christ, I’m sorry if I missed the road and had to do a U turn… She’s here… what more do you fucking want from me?”

All of them were different voices.

You finally lifted your head, seeing four blurry figures in the distance. You tried to pull your hands, but your wrists were bound to the chair behind you, same with your ankles to the chair legs.

“H-hello.” You try to yell, but your voice was raspy. Your throat was dryer than fuck. You tried swallowing, trying to clear your throat before you yelled again, “Where the fuck, am I?”

“Shit. She’s awake.”

“Now if you look to your right, asshole.” The one figure motions towards you, but he’s talking to the other guy, “You’ll see that your target is alive.”

“Where’s Cody?” You ask, breathing heavy as the pain starts to set in worse, “Fuck.” You pull your wrists, but you freeze as the one man walks over and bends down between your knees, “I wouldn’t struggle sweetheart.”

Your eyes scan over his face, taking a mental image for when you do finally escape these psycho fucks, “Who are you?”

“Well, I’m Jake.” He lays a hand on his chest as he turns, pointing to each of the guys who walk forward behind him, “That’s Sam, Colby, and then the asshole who hit your side of the car when he was told not to, is Johnnie.”

“In my defense, I don’t have a license.” Johnnie shrugs and you just look at them so confused.

“So, by your face, I can tell you’re confused.” Jake moves to sit where he was just kneeling, his tattooed arms come up to wrap around his knees, “So let me break it down for you, y/n.”

“Where my badge.” You state and Jake just laughs, “y/n, sweetheart, I don’t need a badge to tell me who you are.”

Your heart thumps in your chest, what the fuck is happening?

“Listen. It’ll all make sense in a second, but right now..” Jake leans forward, “I want to know how bad you want to live.”

His statement makes your skin crawl.

“What do I need to do?” You ask, “Money? I can get money.”

“I mean, money wouldn’t be a bad idea, right?” Johnnie asks and Colby smacks him upside the head, “Can you be serious for once in your fucking life?”

Why were these men so hot?

No. No. Stop that.

You clear your throat again, “Can, I.. get some water please?” You look up between the guy on the floor and the blonde who speaks, “Oh she’s polite?” He raises his brows as he walks over with a water bottle, “Didn’t expect that.”

He opens it and holds it up to your lips, allowing you to get a long awaited drink. You lean back, looking down, “I’m not going to pass out or start foaming at the mouth in two minutes am I?”

“She’s funny.” Colby says tilting his head, “No, y/n. You aren’t. But.. Why are you so calm?”

“I’m an FBI agent, but..” you tilt your head to Jake, “I’m sure you already knew that.”

Jake smirks and nods, “Yeah, we’ve been, well.. I’ve been following you for a while. You’re the talk of the town you know. Super sexy fbi agent solves ten year mystery in a week.”

“What’s your point?” You sigh and Jake tilts his head, “You are going to be our little spy.”

“Your little spy?” You furrow your brows and then it all clicks, “Killionaires.”

“What did you just say?” Jake asks leaning in and you swallow, “Each case we have we give nicknames too. I’m assuming.. you’re the ones who are killing the soulless scumbags who aren’t an inspiration to any?”

Jake purses his lips, a smirk forming as he nods, “You got my message.”

“I was literally at that scene.. well, I don’t know how long I’ve been.. here.” You look around and Jake shrugs, “Five hours, give or take.. and we left your fuck buddy super trooper in the car, along with your phone and anything else that could be tracked.”

You stare at Jake, “How do you know about that?”

He smirks, letting out a sigh, “Like I said. You’re the talk of the town, babe. I knew they were going to bring you in for us, so as soon as we started planning this, I had to get a head of you.”

“You fucking stalked me?” You scoff, “What the fuck.“

“Like I said. Right now, I want to know just how much your life is worth to you.” Jake stands up, “When ever you’re ready to tell me I’ll c-“

“I want to live. Okay.” You look up at Jake and he walks over to you, hands resting on the arm rests as he is inches away from your face, “I don’t think I believe you.”

You lean in, getting closer, “Do you want me to fucking cry? Beg for my life?”

Jake shrugs, eyes moving from your lips back up to your eyes, “Why do you want to live?” You hold your ground, “You seem to know all about me, you tell me.”

Jake chuckles, looking back to his friends then back to you. His laugh stops as soon as his hand is around your throat, a gasp from the sudden action escapes your lips, “The attitude was hot at first, but now you’re just pissing me off.”

A smile forms on your lips and he scoffs, shaking his head as he stares down at you. His voice is low, “I couldn’t kill you even if I had to.”

He runs his thumb over your bottom lip and you snap your head away, “If that’s why you br-“

“No. We brought you here because you can help us take out all the billionaires easier, fucking rob their bodies for what they got. Give back to what they want to take away and leave them out to fucking rot.”

You couldn’t lie. The motive behind Jake, and friend’s, ongoing crime, was valid, but with you being an active investigator, you were sworn to put these guys behind bars, not become a pawn in their scheme.

“We just want you to get information for us, mainly people who are really fucking people over.” Sam steps up and you look over at him, “What’s in it for me? Like.. I help you, I go to prison.”

You scoff, “Do you know what they do to agents in prison?”

“That’s the thing, sweetheart. You help us, we help you.” Jake explains, “All we want is the information on who’s planning to buy and knock down that hospital.”

You knew exactly what he was talking about, too.

“That hospital is in an area where kids are constantly falling and getting hurt. You have to see that we aren’t doing this just to get a thrill out of killing.” Colby steps up, “I mean, they deserve it, so it’s very satisfying, but we do it because we want to help people and no one wants to do anything about it.”

You look between them, your breathing growing more rapid, “Yeah, m’gonna pass o-“

——

You bring your hand up to your face, rubbing your eye before you stop. You pull your hand away and open your eyes, sitting up quickly when you realized you weren’t tied to the chair anymore.

You sit up quickly, and a little too quick at that, “Fuck.”

“Yeah I wouldn’t move, too fast.” Sam’s voice causes you to jump, “Sorry.” He chuckles, “Jake still thinks you’re a flight risk.”

You raise your brows, rubbing your hands on your wrists, “So where are we?”

“About three hours from New York City.”

You were surprised Sam told you, but then again, you felt oddly safe with them. You didn’t feel like you needed to be ready to fight off someone.

You didn’t feel on edge.

“Are you going to kill me?” You look over at Sam and he shakes his head as he stands up, walking over to meet Jake when he walks in, “Hey.”

You nod, “Hi.”

“Do you remember our-“

“Yes.” You cut him off, “I do.”

He nods, staring at you for a few seconds, “Do you hurt? Do you need anything?” He reaches up, fingers gently brushing over your bruised cheek, “Anything at all. You tell me, okay?”

Your eyes stay locked on his and you nod, “Thank you.”

He leans back, “We’re going back towards the city. If you made up your mind, we can take you back with us and you can walk in saying you don’t remember anything.. or-“

“I don’t want to die, Jake. I told you that.” You stand up, closing your eyes as you feel dizzy, “I’ll get you the information, but you have to keep my name out of it if you get caught.”

“That wasn’t the deal.” Jake shakes his head and you scoff, “You said, if I help you you help me-“

“We’ll be back.” Jake turns around and you walk over to him, “I’m coming with you!” You push his back and he turns around, leaning over you.

You lean back slightly as you stare up at him, “I’m coming.”

He tilts his head, “I would know if you are.” He winks and you roll your eyes, stepping back as you cross your arms, “What do I have to do to get you to believe that I won’t snitch?”

“I’ll get you the guy that wants your brother dead.”

You freeze, “W-what? No.. that can’t be possible the guy that shot him is-” Jake cuts you off, “A cover up for the guy who actually did it.”

You stare at him, “Who.”

He shakes his head, “No. Not until I get the information I want.” You step closer to Jake, “I promise I won’t do anything. I just want a name.”

“We all want names, y/n. The faster you get me what I want, the faster you get what you want.” Jake tilts his head, “Do we have a deal?”

You chew on your lip for a few seconds before sighing, “If you’re lying to me, I’ll kill you myself.” You lay your hand into his and shake it as he smirks, “Feelings mutual, babe.”

——

“I just want you to know that you’re safe.” Jake’s voice breaks the silence and you look over at him, “What do you mean?”

“With us. Without us. Either way. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You laugh slightly, “I just don’t.. know how you expect me to be okay with this.”

“The only thing I expect from you is names, y/n. Everything else is on you.” Jake shakes his head, “I don’t want to kill you. If I wanted you dead or even thought about wanting you dead, you’d be dead.”

“You’re a killer, either way, Jake.”

“I’m a goddamn hero.”

You scoff, “Whatever. I’m going now.” Jake laughs, “Could have went twenty minutes ago.”

You roll your eyes, “No one told me that. I’m afraid if I make any sudden movement I’ll be sniped on site.”

Jake snickers as he shakes his head, “I’ll be seeing you around, y/n. Good luck.” You don’t say anything, you just get out and start walking down the dark alley. You did look pretty beat up, so wandering away from the scene is more than likely a believable story.

You hoped it was, at least.

You walk in and three officers quickly rush over to you, “Oh my god.”

“Someone get the Cheif!”

“Y/n, hey. What happened, where were you?”

You looked around before you pretended to pass out again, dropping to the floor. You laid there, eyes closed as you focused on your encounter with the Killionaires.

You feel people moving you, trying to shake you awake, but you don’t budge. You give it a few more minutes before you snap your eyes open and gasp.

“We have an ambulance coming for you, y/n.” The chief says as he bends down, “Can you tell us what happened?”

You shake your head, “I-I do-n’t.” You couldn’t lie, the feeling of agreeing to do this was weighing on you hard, but at the same time, you felt more safe with a group of random killers than you do right now.

You didn’t know what to do but start crying, “The acci-dent.. Cody..” you look up, “I-is he okay?”

The chief nods, “He’s in the hospital still, but he’s been asking about you. He woke up and you were gone. No one knew where you were.”

You let out a sigh, “O-okay.”

The EMT’s come in, telling people to make room and you’re taking to the hospital.

You were admitted almost immediately. They wanted to run all the tests so you were stuck there for a night.

It wasn’t long before Cody was pushed in, smiling as soon as he sees you, “Where the heck did you go?” You shrug your shoulders, “I couldn’t tell you, Heathers.”

He tilts his head, “Y/n.”

You sigh, “Cody. Right, sorry.” He shakes his head, “You call me whatever you want.” You smile and let out a sigh, “I remember I was in the cruiser with you, then we were hit and then I blacked out for a while.. I must have gotten out and went to the woods or something because I woke up under a tree.”

“You’re lucky to still be here. The damage to the car is.. I’m surprised you’re still here.” He moves closer and takes your hand into his.

“Was it a drunk driver?” You ask and he shrugs, “It was just me at the scene when someone else came rolling up onto it and called it in. I’m not even sure what happened myself.

Good, good, you think to yourself, “Hopfully we can figure it out. When are they discharging you?” He shrugs, hopfully this afternoon.”

“What time is it? What day is it?” You look around and Cody squeezes your hand, “Hey. Relax. It’s nine thirty in the morning and it’s Wednesday. The accident happened last night around seven.”

Sounds about right, or at least you thought it did.

You relax into the bed, “So I was thinking.” Cody chuckles, “When are you not thinking?” You smile and shrug, “I’m not sure, but anyway. I want to look into getting information about that hospital that’s closing its doors, maybe we help it stay open, get better supplies for it. There’s a lot of kids in that area, Cody.”

He stays quiet for a few minutes as he thinks, “We can move the families and such into protective custody.” He nods, “Y/n. That’s genius.”

Oh fuck.

You swallow, “Y-yeah. It is.”

——

“Everything came back normal. You were dehydrated and you’ll have a few bumps and bruises the next few weeks, but you’re going to make a full recovery.” The doctor smiles at you, closing your folder, “I’d stay out of work a few days, but other than that. You’re good to go home.”

You nod, moving the blankets off of your legs, “Thank you so much.”

“I’ll have someone come in and remove that IV for you.”

You nod and rest your head back, waiting patiently for the nurse to come in, which is rather fast in your opinion. She comes in smiling, settting stuff beside you before grabbing gloves.

There’s a knock on the door and it slides open, “I hear they’re discharging you. Is it safe to come in?”

“Yes, Cody. You can come in.” You laugh slightly as you watch him walk in. The girl puts a bandage on your arm and walks out.

“I just have to change and then I’m free to leave.” You stand up and Cody moves next to you. As much as you liked Cody, and as much as you shouldn’t, you couldn’t stop thinking about Jake.

“Y/n?”

“What?” You look up at him, “Sorry. I’m so tired.” You laugh slightly as you move your hair for him to untie your gown.

“I brought you a change of clothes. I figured you wouldn’t want to put your dirty ones back on.” He lays the stuff on the bed and you nod, “Thank you.”

——

Cody walks you up to your door and you get this odd feeling not to let him in, “Thank you, again. I will be sure to give my brother a call and let him know that I’m home safe and sound.”

“I can stay if you-“

You cut him off, “It’s okay. I’m home. I’m going to be home. I’ll call if I need anything.” You reach out and touch his arm, “You’ve done so much for me already.”

He nods, leaning in to kiss your forehead, “I mean anything.”

You nod, “I know.” You watch as he walks back to his car and as soon as you turn back to your door, you twist the knob.

To which is already unlocked.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.” Jake says as he stands up from your couch, “Cute little place you got here. It’s nice to actually see the inside.”

You close your door, letting out a sigh as you set your paperwork on the counter, “Do you have to make everything weird?”

He walks over and leans down on the counter, “I mean, I’m just that kind of guy I guess.” He smiles and you aren’t sure if it’s the pain killers, or what but you liked his smile.

“What did they give you for pain, y/n?” You toss the bag with the medicine bottle inside and he nods, “C’mon. I have something better for you.”

He holds his hand out and you feel like you have no other choice but to follow his orders, you and now your brother’s lives are at stake.

You intertwine your fingers with his and he leads you outback to your patio. It was fairly private, so you didn’t have to worry about nosey neighbors snitching on you to your bother, or even Cody.

You sit down on the patio couch, Jake sitting next to you after pulling something from his pocket. Your eyes go wide when you see what he’s lighting and you stand up, “Jake. I cannot do that.”

“Just sit down. You don’t do it regular so it’ll be out of your system in like three, I don’t know five days tops?” He takes a hit and you don’t know if it would be considered Stockholm syndrome or what, but you felt like you needed this man sitting before you.

“You said three days?” You ask sitting down next to him and he nods, exhaling the smoke, “Three days, baby.”

“Don’t call me that.” You scrunch up your nose, slowly bringing the joint to your lips and inhaling. You close your eyes, instantly feeling the high setting in, “It’s weird.” You breathe out, handing it back to Jake.

“Take another, sweetheart. You deserve it.” He pushes your hand back up to your lips, encouraging you to take another hit, to which you do.

Your body relax into the patio couch, you cough with this one, covering your mouth as Jake takes the joint from your fingers.

Once you calm down, Jake looks at you, “Why do you trust me?”

“I don’t.”

“Yes you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t have drank the water, hit this joint, or even sat in the car with me for twenty minutes when you could have left.”

“I was thirsty enough. I’m in that much pain, and I didn’t know if I was going to get shot or now.” You shrug, smirking as he just stares at you.

You tilt your head, “Why don’t you want to kill me?”

Jake laughs, giving you back the joint, “Alright, now you’re pushing it.” He looks over at you as you take another drag, “You can get something I need. Why would I want to get rid of something that benefits me?”

“I mean..” You exhale the smoke, “..I guess that’s fair. I don’t know.” You shrug with a laugh. Jake shakes his head, “You are pretty hot. I will give you that, too.”

“You’re not so bad lookin’ yourself, you know.” You purse your lips, “So what else do you want from me? I feel like you’re being too lenient with me. Aren’t murders supposed to be. scary?”

“You’re saying you’re not even the slightest bit scared of me, or any of my friends you’ve met?” Jake raises his brows and you nod, “I wouldn’t be sitting here, doing something I shouldn’t be doing, with someone like you.”

“I’m just..” he shakes his head, “Amazed, I guess? I was expecting you to put up a fight once you woke up.”

“Well, with the way Johnnie hit me, I won’t be fighting for a few weeks.” You sigh, “So what? Are you just going to keep killing?”

“While you work to get me the names I need, yes.”

You nod, “Okay.” You look down, “I know this is wrong.. but..” You look out into your yard and Jake tilts his head, “Say it, baby.”

You side eye him about the nickname and shake your head, “I agree with what you’re doing. I do, I’m just.. also under oath to protect and serve and this is not me protecting and serving.”

Jake turns towards you, hand reaching out to gently turn your head towards him, “I promise, y/n. When this is all said and done, you won’t have to worry about anything ever again.”

“I just want my name kept out of it. I can’t go to prison, Jake.”

He nods, “You’re too pretty for that place, they would eat you alive, literally.” He smirks slightly and you roll your eyes, “Oh my god. You’re right, but knock it off.”

He smiles and you shake your head, “I’m serious. I’ll get you the list of names, but that’s it.”

“Can you do one other thing for me?” Jake tilts his head and you sigh, “What.”

“I’ve always wanted to cross off fucking an FBI agent off of my bucket list.” He smirks and you stand up, “We can’t do that, we might fall in love.”

Jake stands up, following you inside, “What’s so wrong about that?”

“Everything is wrong about that. My life is on the line no matter which way you look.” You take a deep breath, “I’ll make a call, I’ll have an officer bring everything to me. I’ll have someone email me a list of potential names but Jake..”

“What?”

“You have to move fast.” You swallow, “I said something about getting a list of names and they’re probably already looking at moving them into protective custody.”

His jaw clenches and you could tell he was pissed, but he wasn’t going to take it out on you, “I gotta go. If we’re doing this, you need to get that shit tonight.”

He walks towards your back door and you just stand there, you didn’t know what to do about this situation. The only thing you could really do in general is get that case information brought over, as soon as possible.

——

You stand up as there’s a knock on your door. As you make your way over to look out, you see an officer from the station and you let out a slight sigh of relief.

“Hey Nat.” You smile, moving away so she can bring in the box, “You can just get it down on my coffee table in the living room.”

You close the door and walk in. She looks up at you, “How are you feeling?”

You shrug, “Doc gave me pain meds. They seem to be helping. I want to come back.”

“You take all the time you need, we aren’t sure what this accident was, and if it was about the current case..” She shakes her head, “We need you safe.”

“I know. I know.” You laugh slightly, “I get so stir crazy. Nothing like this has happened to me before.”

Especially the part where you were kidnapped and bribed by the current suspects in a massive case.

“I get off at five. I can bring dinner?” She tilts her head and you nod, “Please.”

She gets a call in her radio and she raises her brows at you as she answers, “McAndrews responding.” She looks up at you, “Duty calls.”

You smile and walk over to the door, closing it as she runs down the steps. You turn around and gasp, body jolting as you see Jake and Colby standing there.

“Sorry.” Colby laughs, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Uh huh.” You walk but then stop, “We’re you watching me?” You look at Jake and he smirks, “How was your nap?”

You ignore him and walk back into the living room, “This is everything, but go into my bedroom or something. They’re going to have people checking in and doing surveillance.”

Jake bites his lower lip, looking at you as Colby grabs the box, “The list of names in there?”

You hold your stare on his, “Should be right on top.”

His eyes move down to your lips and he smirks, “Thank you Agent Y/l/n.” He goes to turn and you grab his arm, his head snapping down to look at your hand, “What.”

“Where’s your end of the deal?” You push him to face you and he steps closer to you, “I don’t think you can handle taking care of a man like this.”

“What makes you say that?”

At this point you were both whispering to each other, bodies inches from each others, anger rising quickly within you, “Huh?”

He raises his brows, “I think, you’re all bark. No bite. You shoot when you have to, not when you want to.“

“What aren’t you telling me?” You furrow your brows and Jake chuckles, “What do you mean?” You shake your head, “There’s more to it, Jake. Isn’t there?”

He shakes his head, looking away as he tries to figure out something to say.

You challenged him more than he knew, and that’s never happened to him before.

“You’re smart.” He says as he looks back at you, “Figure it out yourself.” He goes to walk away and you don’t even think, you shove him in the back and he whips around, backing you into the wall.

He just stares down at you. You clench your jaw, hands pushing into his chest, “We had a deal.”

“Yeah? And? What are you going to do? Turn us into the cops?” He leans in close, lips brushing against yours, “Let me tell you something, sweetheart, we go down. you go down, too.”

You watch as he leans back, looking you up and down, “I see why your best friend’s brother loves to come over after shifts. I wouldn’t be able to stay away from the fire either.”

He walks backwards, turning as you stay silent and watch him go back the hall.

You couldn’t lie, you were absolutely flustered, but pissed.

You walked back the hall, leaning against the doorframe as you watched them go through the folders, “Try and keep everything where it was please.”

Your voice was quiet and Colby looks up, giving you a nod, “We will.” There’s a knock on your door and you whip your head over, “I don’t know who that is, so just please. Go into the guest room and please..” you look at Jake with a pleading look, “Stay in there.”

He stares at you as another knock on the door sounds and he nods to Colby, “C’mon.”

You watch as they go in, “They look in the windows, stay hidden.”

“I know the drill, babe.” Jake winks as he closes the door and locks it. You sigh as you rush to the door, opening it to reveal the chief of police, “Hey, y/n. How are you feeling?”

You motion for him to come in, “I’ve been better.” You laugh slightly and he nods, turning to look at you, “Yeah, yeah. Did McAndrews being over the files and stuff that you asked for?”

You nod, “She did. I actually, passed out while going over them.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” He shakes his head, “I just came by to tell you that we decided that since we have no information on the other driver of vehicle, I’m going to have an officer posted here until we get to the bottom of this.”

“Whatever works best for you, Chief.” You smile and he walks towards the door, “If you need anything at all. Please do not hesitate to let whoever know. You know all of them.”

You laugh as you open the door, “Thank you. I’ll be sure to keep them in the loop.”

“Alright. Rest up, don’t strain yourself.” He points and you point back, “You know I can’t help it.” You close the door and let out a sigh, locking it before going back to your bedroom.

“I told you to-“

“I know what you said.” Jake says, “But we don’t have time to waste.” He stands up, “Colby. We got it.”

Colby moves, glancing at you as he walks by you. Jake stops right infront of you, chest almost on yours, “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

He leans in, gently pressing his lips to your temple and you close your eyes, taking in a slow breath as he tilts his head down, lips right at your ear as he whispers, “I hope this was enough time for you to fall in love with me.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“I’ll think of you when I do.” He winks and leaves with Colby, sneaking out without a trace of them even being there.

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

Holy fuck. Okay. Please for the love of Jake Webber tell me how this was !! I need to know! I love you all, thank you so so so much for waiting on this, I know it’s not exactly what I had originally planned, but TRUST!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[reyadawn]

Masked Desire - One Shot

*image not mine, credit goes to owner*

Summary: Reader is a live-in friend of Bad Omens who is in love with Noah Sebastian and best friends with Joakim Karlsson. Noah keeps reader in the friend zone while she watches him with other women. *Similar concept of "Love You More" but with varied differences...you'll see*

Side Note: Im not good at angst writing but Im not feeling the best today...struggling with self-image and self-esteem. Needed to let it out.

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x OFC, Jolly x OFC (platonic)

Warnings: Angst, language, eventual friends-to-lovers, eventual smut so dont read this if you're under 18.

Word Count: 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Please, bare with me on this guys...

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Laughter echoed around the dimly lit livingroom of the two story beach house. A large black leather 'L' shaped sectional was filled with the members of Bad Omens as well as thier female counterparts. The glass coffee table was littered with various beer cans, pop cans, random bowls of party mix and a few laptops. The end tables housed speakers and the low sound of country music wafted through the air.

I leaned against the large archway that separated the livingroom from the large chef's kitchen, arms crossed in front of my chest as I took in the scene before me. Jolly, my best friend and partner in crime, had his legs stretched out in front of him with his feet propped up on the end of the coffee table and was absentmindedly strumming his guitar. Folio was next to him with a redhead in his lap wearing jeans so tight they look painted on. Every now and then she'd flip her long hair over shoulder and would hit Jolly across the side of his face.

Jolly threw the occasional dark look to Folio but didnt say anything and I chuckled. Nicholas was engrossed in a book about tattoo designs while being sanwiched between two girls. Both of them kept running thier hands over his legs but he barely even glanced at them. The last girl, a dark brunette with pigtails, was planted in the corner of the leather sectional on Noah's lap and was currently shoving her tongue down his throat, dark hair creating a temporary curtain to hide thier actions from view. Fucking tramps. They were all probably so loose that it was like throwing a hot dog down a hallway.

I turned away, stomach rolling and heart clenching. I would never be anything more to Noah than a friend. A confidant. Video game partner. I looked nothing like the girls he took home. I wasnt thin, at all. I wore no make up. No designer clothes, just tummy control leggings and loose shirts to hide my insecurities. I rarely dressed up unless the ocassion called for it. My long hair was either in a messy bun, ponytail or side braid. My self-esteem was ground zero, I just hid it well.

I busied myself with making a steaming cup of lavendar tea. I walked around the large island which was centered in the middle of the kitchen and frowned. Various bags of chips, popcorn and candy lay scattered along the surface with random glass bottles filled with amber colored liquid. I hated drinking but the way I felt had me considering adding a splash or two to my tea. I reached above me into one of the cabinets by the refridgerator in search of my favorite Halloween cup and noticed it got shoved so far back on the shelf I couldnt reach it.

I bit my lip in thought before hoisting myself onto the counter on my knees. Before I could do much more, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around my waist, pulling me off the counter. I spun in anger towards my assailant and stopped, staring at Noah in shock and anger.

"What the fuck, Sebastian?", I all but growled. Noah threw his hands up in defense.

"Chill out, Angel. Was just trying to make sure you didn't get hurt. What were you doing, anyway?", he replied, moving to stand closer. I retreated a step back, earning me a frown of confusion across Noah's dark features. His shoulder length brown locks were touseled, full lips kiss swollen and clothes partly disheveled. Internally, my heart broke at the fact I wasnt the reason for the current state he was in. Externally, I rolled my eyes.

"I need my tea cup so I can go upstairs", I replied, pointing to the top shelf. Noah stepped closer to me, reaching over my head to pull the cup from the shelf. I was so tempted to wrap my arms around his 6'3 frame. I wanted and needed so many things from him that I wasnt allowed. He'd never look at me the way I wanted him to.

A light brush to my cheek snapped me from my train of though. I looked up at Noah as his fingertips grazed my cheek, pushing my hair behind my ear.

"Where did you go just now, Angel?", he asked softly, eyes roaming over me. I gently took the cup from him and turned to the stove to get hot water boiling in the copper kettle. "Nowhere", I mumbled.

"Why do you want to go upstairs? You always party with us. What's wrong?", he asked, moving closer once more. He tried moving a few lose strands of hair away from my face but I pulled away. The battle to keep my distance from him yet crave his touch was exhausting.

"Please, Noah...dont do this right now. I really need to be alone for a while", I said, reaching for the kttle as it whistled. I poured the steaming water in my cup, reaching for a teabag from the box sitting by the sugar jar.

"Why?", Noah pushed. I sighed in defeat before turning to him. I slowly raised my eyes to him. Choclate meeting chocolate and he reached his hand out, thumb wiping away a lone tear spilling down my cheek. Giving him a watery smile, I walked past him and through the opposite entrance towards the upstairs.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Noah stood rooted to the spot, confusion and hurt swirling within him. What was going on with her? Why was she so sad? Did someone hurt her? Anger began to surface and Noah was ready to throw hands, figers gripping the counter tightly until his knuckles turned white.

Jolly entered the kitchen in search of a beer when he took in the sight of Noah before him and cocked his head to the side.

"Descided to come up for air?", he asked with a smirk. Noah turned to him with a scowl.

"I think someone hurt her...she was in here alone, crying and when I tried to comfort her she rejected me. That's really unlike her. I dont fucking get it, man", Noah replied, running a hand down his face.

Jolly rolled his eyes before pulling a beer from the refridgerator, popping the top to take a healthy drink.

"You're a fucking moron, Noah", he deadpanned.

"What the fuck, J? Where do you get the balls?", Noah snapped. Jolly tipped his head back and laughed.

"Dude, that girl has been in love with you for years. Practically throws herself at you and follows you around like a damn puppy. Anything you ask her to do, she does; books our flights, hotels, cleans this massive fucking house top to bottom, does all our laundry and makes sure to work the merch table at our shows when we play in town...for free, I might add. This goes way beyond her being just nice", Jolly explained, arms folded across his chest, beer can forgotten.

Noah stared at Jolly in shock before running his fingers through his hair, gripping the strands in irritation.

"Noah...do you know how hard it is for her to see you with other women? Like, tonight for instance. She watched you tongue fuck that chick on your lap and I thought she was going to break", Jolly added.

"How in God's name do you know all of this?", Noah asked, voice hardening in irritation. Jolly chuckled.

"I'm her best friend, you dunce. We share everything except a bed. It's not like that with her. She's like the sister I never had", Jolly explained. Noah sighed. "Look, if you don't feel the same way about her then you need to tell her so I can prepare myself to pick up the pieces of what will be left of her. If you do feel the same, you need to grow a pair and tell her. Either way, she deserves to know where you stand".

Jolly walked away, leaving Noah to his thoughts.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

I didn't hear the knock at my bedroom door. I barely registered Jolly's soft voice or the feeling of his arms around me as they lifted me from the bathroom floor to cradle me against his chest.

The sobs that escaped had me shaking and trembling. Jolly's grip tightened as he whispered softly in my ear, trying with everything he had to comfort me. Hot tears poured down my cheeks as my hands fisted the material of his shirt.

"Easy, sweetheart. I'm right here...I'm right here", Jolly said, pulling me fully into his lap.

I don't know how long I stayed in Jolly's lap but I suddenly woke up and I was in my bed, alone. My room was dark and I pulled myself into a sitting position before getting out of bed to meander downstairs. Raised voices had me pausing in the hallway to eavesdrop.

"Goddamnit, Jolly, why didn't you come and get me when you found her like that?!", Noah screamed.

"Dude, calm down before you pop a vein", Nick said. I slowly peered around the corner, looking down from the banister. Noah was in a standoff with Jolly in the livingroom while Nick, Nicholas and Matt were onlookers.

"If you gave half a fuck as much as I do, you would have gone after her but instead you bed that stupid whore from last night to hide the truth of it all!", Jolly fired back. You could have heard a pin drop as all eyes turned to Noah.

"Jolly, you're like a brother to me but right now I'm two seconds away from decking your ass. She's fucking everything to me, to this band. None of us would survive without her. We'd all fucking starve to death", Noah explained. My breath caught in my throat as fresh tears filled my vision.

"Go tell her you love her, you fucktard, but you better do some hefty begging though. She's liable to lay you out flat before she lets you fuck her", Matt said with a grin, popping a few M&M's in his mouth. Noah, Jolly, Nick and Nicholas all turned to him before laughter erupted. I had to admit, I loved the sound.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

I stood looking out my window, fresh from a shower, towel still wrapped around my frame. Dark blue sky, not a cloud in sight, sun shinning. Days like this normally made me happy but a dark cloud of confliction loomed over me from what I had witnessed downstairs.

I was so lost in my train of thought that I didn't hear anyone come into the bedroom. I sighed loudly as I heard the door close.

"Not now, Jolly. I'll come down soon", I said, still gazing out the window.

"Jolly has seen you in a towel but I don't get to?", Noah's deep voice rang out. I spun, clutching the towel to my breasts.

"What the holy fuck, Sebastian?! Do you know what knocking is?", I all but screamed.

"I did knock but you didn't answer. I got worried and let myself in so I could check on you", Noah replied, walking over to the bed to sit down. I rolled my eyes and proceeded to walk by him and retreat into the bathroom but his hand shot out and latch onto my wrist, stopping me.

Noah rose to full height, engulfing me in his size. He hooked a finger inside the knot at my chest, yanking me so hard against his chest the towel came loose and fell to the floor. I craned my head back to stare up at him in shock as he brought his head down to brush my lips with his. I parted my lips as he fully slanted his across mine, his arms encircling my waist to hold me close.

The kiss was so soft and gentle, that hot tears prickled beneath my closed eyes. I whimpered and grabbed his forearms, my legs trembling. Noah rained gentle kisses down my neck to my collarbone as his long fingers gently carressed between my thighs before giving them a gentle tap. I parted them just enough and his middle finger slid between my folds to soflty swipe across my clit.

"So soft...so wet", Noah murmered against my skin. I whimpered again, a small plea for him to give me more. "Use your words, Princess. Tell me what you want".

"Please...I need more...I need you", I whispered, gripping his forearm even tighter.

"Good girl. Come here", Noah said, pulling his fingers from me and pulled me after him to the bed. I suddenly became aware of my nakedness and tried to cover myself up with my arms. Noah looked down at me and chuckled.

"My fingers have been in your pussy and you're worried about how you look? Lay down for me, beautiful and spread those pretty thighs", Noah smiled reassuringly. I bit my lip nervously but did as he asked. I hated the way my body was even more laying down than when I was standing.

I felt the bed dip as Noah layed down, face inches from my dripping pussy and I had never felt more vulnerable, exposed or turned on in my life. Without bothering to ask for permission, Noah's tongue swiped through my folds to run light circles around my clit as he slowly pushed two long fingers inside me up to his knucles. I could almost feel him at my cervix because his fingers were so fucking long. I gasped as he slowly thrust his fingers in and out of me, circling my clit a few times before plunging his fingers back inside me.

I gripped Noah's hair as he suddenly wrapped his lips around my clit while curling his fingers into a 'come hither' motion to rub that spongey spot inside me and my hips shot upwards. Noah chuckled and placed his free hand over my lower stomach to hold me in place, picking up the pace of his fingers.

"Please, please...I'm gonna' come...please, more, faster", I begged, throwing my head back against the pillow.

"Please what, Angel?", Noah asked, raising his head to look up at me. His dark eyes glittered with his own arousal.

"Please, make me come", I all but begged.

"Please ...?", Noah trailed off.

"Noah! Please, Noah!", I cried, thighs shaking. He smiled and lowered his head again to take my clit back in his mouth and suck hard while fucking his curled fingers inside me at an almost painful pace. I screamed out as my release coated his fingers and his hand. Before I even had time to recover, he positioned himself between my thighs and thrust his cock inside me until he was fully seated, triggering another orgasm as I raked my nails down his shoulders and arms.

I couldnt even think straight enough to try and figure out how he got his shorts and boxers off. Noah's thrusts were slow, deep, powerful even as his cock slowly dragged from my body only to spear back inside me until I felt the head hit my cervix. Noah lowered himself to capture my cries with his lips as his hips snapped faster. My legs lifted to wrap my thighs around his waist even tighter, the act causing him to sink impossibly deeper.

Pulling myself from his lips, I tried to catch my breath. Noah brought a hand to my breast, swiping his thumb over my nipple.

"Noah, please...I can't...you'll destroy me...my heart--", I said harshly but Noah's lips cut me off before he pulled away to look down at me.

"Your heart is mine. Your body is mine. You. Are. Mine", he empasized, his hips jackhammering against my thighs, cock pistoning against my cervix. I was losing the battle against my body. I couldn't fight it. "Come for me, Angel...come all over my dick".

Noah's words were my undoing. The coil inside me snapped, my body feeling like it could snap as my muscles grew taught and I screamed. My release triggered his own as he closed his eyes, mouth open, releasing every boiling rope of cum inside me. He collapsed on top of me, chest heaving. I ran my fingers through his hair until he rolled to his back, taking me with him so I layed across his chest, my leg tangled between his.

"I love you, Angel...I'm so sorry for being so stupid for this long", Noah whispered, placing a kiss to the top of my head.

"It's ok, Noah...better late than never", I replied, kissing his chest. "I love you, too".

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Probably should have made this two parts but I couldnt stop writing 🤷‍♀️

Thanks for reading 💫💟

@livingdeceasedgirl @exitwoundsx @artificialbreezy @lma1986 @thefallennightmare @concreteangel92 @concreteemo @dsireland86 @darling-millicent-aubrey @flowery-mess @amourtoken @gretaswhore28

[dontexpectmuch]

“hello, i am jude bellingham and today i will be interviewing my partner in crime, the love of my life, the straw to my berry, the-“ judes long and exaggerated introduction was interrupted by you, who was sitting next to him on the couch, “don’t overdo it, bellingham.” rolling your eyes and trying to hold back your smile, you lightly hit his shoulder, thus, a smile creeping on his lips.

��right.” he clears his throat, “sorry, darlin’”, shortly looking at you, jude leans closer and softly headbutts you, like a cat would to show its affection to someone.

“today, jude has the opportunity to ask me anything he always has wanted to know.” you continue to explain, not fighting back the smile on your lips anymore.

“this is brought to you by 1&1.” he quickly adds, before looking down at the questions he wrote on the card in his hands .

after dating for one and a half year, your relationship finally public, judes football club, bvb, asked if you two wanted to do a couples video, the football club known for always doing something to bring footballer and fans closer together.

jude was really excited, he finally had an excuse to ask you everything he never really got a clear answer to, while your leg was shaking, nervous from what your boyfriend would ask.

“okay, love.” jude begins, quickly adding, “be honest, though.”

“promise.” you replied, looking at his face as he smirks.

well, fuck.

“wait!” you cut him off before he had even started, “why is he the only one asking me something? what about me?” you look at the people behind the camera, all of them looking at you with an apologetic smile.

“it was judes idea.” daniel, the video director answered.

“judeth.” narrowing your eyes, you look at your boyfriend, him not being sorry at all.

instead of saying anything, jude decides to begin with the first question, “who, besides me, is your football crush?”

“pedri gonzalez.” you answer without any hesitation.

jude, thinking you wouldn’t say a name, looked at you with shock writing over his face. “that was fu- i mean, really fast, babe, like, straight out.”

“you wanted me to answer honestly.”

“i thought i was your football crush?” he, being the oh so well-known drama queen he was, placed his hand on top of his heart, eyes wide.

“well, you can’t be my crush now, can you? you’re my boyfriend.” is all you say, shrugging with your shoulders. “i have thing for spanish men, like, have you seen him?”

“moving on!” jude tries to change the topic as fast as he could, “we will talk about this later, though.” he mumbled under his breath.

“pardon?”

“what would be a break up reason for you?” he asks, putting the question sheet down, legs crossed and upper body turned to you.

“you mean, like, with you? or in general?” you ask, head angled to the left, as you look at his face.

“in general.”

“easy,” you start, sitting up properly and facing the camera to explain everything, “i really like the movie trilogy ‘how to train your dragon.’ like, so much, i can’t even explain it, you just have to put it on whenever i have a bad day and i immediately feel better. but, if the person i’m dating says something like, ‘oh, ew why would you watch this blablabla.’ i’d immediately leave them, i don’t care.” your face was serious, eyebrows knitted together.

“nah, for real.” jude nods, agreeing with you, “that film is an absolute banger.”

“i know, right!” you know turn to face him, happy that your boyfriend seems to enjoy the films just like you do.

“but that’s a child movie.” someone behind the camera voices out, causing yours and judes head immediately to snap to the direction the voice came from, offended looks painted on your faces.

“take it back!” you exclaim.

“for real, i even cried when i saw that scene in the last part.” jude quickly comes to your aim, his hand sneaking behind your waist to draw faint shapes on your hip/waist area.

hearing him say that made you giggle, leaning against his side and putting your elbow on his knee.

and it is true, you guys really were partners in crime, he was the apple to your pie, the smoke to your high.

—————————————

hiccup could like, get it fr

[ravenna-reid]

Admirer from the past...

TW: blood, mention of dead bodies and stalking/obsessive behaviour

An expert crime fighter. One of the youngest CEOs. A skilled detective. As good as the Bat. Maybe even better than him.

Tim often found himself conversing with police officers and other detectives that were actually qualified unlike him. Discussing the crime scene, the criminal, the victim, and the next course of action. They all respected Tim and were willing to work together.

One night Tim found himself standing amongst the chaos of the press, the solemn faces of detectives and officers and a name written in blood covering the footpath along with other gory things... The crimson letters painting the cement were a confronting display.

It was the works of a new villain, one that had only just started doing such things two weeks ago. He was one of the most psychotic men Tim had ever dealt with. And it seemed he had a nasty obsession with some poor girl, given he was constantly leaving dead bodies and flowers strewn across Gotham City dedicated to her.

Honestly, the situation twisted Tim's stomach, making him all the more adamant on finding this fucked up guy in hopes of sparing his target the fear and trauma.

Tim kept to himself as he tried to analyse the scene, picking up clues and taking his own samples. That was until the screech of tires on the road caught his attention. Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw another well known detective pull up beside the crime scene and hastily get out of his car. And with him a woman. Tim quickly let his eyes glance over you. You wore a fitted suit, golden hoops and your hair thrown up into a french twist. Throwing your trench coat over your shoulders, you hurriedly followed the detective with an unimpressed look on your face.

"If you haven't even caught the assailant yet, why am I here Harry?" You asked before you fell into step with your co-worker and friend. He was almost like an older brother to you.

"Because, I need your input. Your analysis. This guy is a fucking nut and we have no idea how to predict what he's gonna do next."

Intelligence and class seemed to drip off of you, and Tim was immediately smitten interested in you. He even found himself wondering if you were seeing the man you had arrived with.

Surely not, he was old enough to be your father.

You and Harry ducked under the police tape, your hands in your pockets and eyes trained on the gruesome scene. Black roses coated in thick blood decorated the ground around your boots. You instantly grimaced.

Harry made his way over to the group and greeted Tim first.

"Red Robin." He said with a nod.

"Detective." Tim said back, eyes still trained on you.

You turned in a circle to take it all in before nearing the group. "So, do we have anything on this guy?"

"Red Robin managed to hack into one of the shops security systems. The one across the street. With the footage he retrieved, we can see this sick bastard commit the crime, but his face is obscured."

You were watching Red Robin as the officer spoke, a little taken aback to see a vigilante standing in front of you. Let alone one of the bats.

"Can I see the footage?" You asked, eyes gazing back at his.

Tim swallowed hard. Your eye contact was unwavering, and he could feel a blush begin to creep onto his face.

"Miss, are you even a detective or-"

"Of course." Tim cut the officer off, handing you the tablet that sat atop a police car.

"It's fine," Harry said with the wave of his hand, "She's with me. She knows what she's doing."

Tim watched you analyse the footage. The man was wearing a cap, and some sort of odd make-up was smeared across his face. It might have even be blood you thought. You attentively watched the criminals behaviour. His mannerisms. The odd tick in his left shoulder. The limp in his right leg.

"Anything?" Tim asked.

His voice was like wine and you couldn't help but breathe in his cologne. You might come along to see these crime scenes more often.

"There's something." You admit with the furrow of your brows. "The way he moves. I can't put my finger on it though..."

Tim observed the badge clipped to the collar of your shirt. Although he could read what your occupation was, your coat was covering your name.

"Forensic psychologist?"

What a stupid moment to be making small talk. He began to chastise himself and his lack of charisma, but you didn't seem to mind, much to his relief.

"Mhm. Know what that is?" You teased, anticipating the Red Robin's response.

Tim smirked. "No actually, never heard of it."

You gave a light laugh and Tim felt he had to keep the conversation going.

"Are you new at this?" He asked. "I haven't seen you before."

"Not really," you replied with a soft smile. "It's my second year."

"Yeah, and she beats everyone in the game." Harry called out with a chuckle. You tried to hide your blush, but your humility mixed with your attempt to hide your reaction made Tim like you even more.

But the longer you watched the footage it suddenly dawned on you. The puzzles snapped together in your head and left you a little shocked. Tim immediately took note of the change in your demeanour.

"What is it?"

You held onto the tablet tightly. "I think I know who this is. The twitch. The limp. The hunched form and what he's doing..."

"Holy shit..." Harry said as the others all gawked at the writing on the ground.

Tim ignored them, focusing his full attention onto you.

"Back when I was just a psychologist. This guy came to me, I'm sure of it." You looked back up at Tim now, but before either of you could say anything, Harry called your name.

"You better get over here."

You and Red Robin joined the group, and as you looked down at the name on the footpath, your soul immediately dropped down to your feet.

"What's wrong?" Tim asked, looking up at Harry then at you. But now that you had moved, the name on your badge was revealed to Tim.

Everyone suddenly turned to look at you. And all you could do was stare down at the red letters before you.

"That's my name."

Continue to Part Two here

[1moreff-creator]

DRDT Chapter 2 Episode 14: First Impressions

Episode 14!!! If Ep 11 really was the 70% mark (apparently the dev said that but don’t quote me on it, I saw it in a YT comment), then it only goes up to Ep 16. In the first trial, the culprit was revealed in Ep 10, then Ep 11 was their final defense as the class unraveled all the remaining mysteries, and Ep 12 was mostly post-trial. If the pattern repeats, this might be the episode we get our culprit reveal!!! And it seems likely, with the forty minute mark. So excited!!!

Also fine if it doesn’t happen if course, but we’ll see!

Spoilers for CH2 EP14. CW: Hanging, murder, Eden!Culprit and Ace!Culprit discussion, blood and wires.

Nico! Nico! Explain the blood on the wires and my life is yours!!! I’m still surprised Teruko got “hanging” out of that crime scene to be honest.

Ace is so funny. He’s technically right that people should ask the victim and not just the killer, but he has nothing to offer.

“That’s why she didn’t ask you.” J really is becoming the voice of reason huh?

“It’s hard to remember the evidence.” (Paraphrased). Eden.

[Teruko lists the evidence] And… she omitted the tape. Yeah, the trial would get pretty derailed if Rose noticed the oddity there right away.

Wow, immediately Rebuttal Showdown let’s go! Really cool Hu animation. I wonder if she’ll end up being the Ace attacker or not? She could still just be defending Nico because.

“That’s why I have to interrogate Nico.” I love the voice acting, the chillest Rebuttal Showdown ever so far xD

[Sword Reveal] Fan?… Oh, because the fan being broken implies a hanging, right? That’s where she’s going with this?

“Lost their temper at Ace” is not how I will put attempted murder, Hu, but you do you.

[Cut] Oh, the fan was used as a pulley??? Fucking how???

“The fan being broken would suggest a hanging.” (Paraphrased) Oh I was kinda right with my start of RS guess.

“Isn’t that wire Hu’s custom weapon?” Woo, Whit with the brain cell!

“Nico stole from Rose, so they stole from [Hu]” (Paraphrased) Yeah! Teruko and I think alike!

[Hu triple dots] Was the wire stolen? I’m almost second guessing it with how reluctant she is to say that.

{Hindsight between keys: Man I went back and forth a lot this episode huh}

[Veronika talks about Nico planning for the trial] Even though that kinda contradicts what Nico said earlier (I guess maybe they lied, makes sense in retrospect), yeah she’s right (assuming they aren’t wrong about Nico trying to frame Hu). Is she trying to help her newfound bestie, Hu?

“Did they even want to learn to paint?” Poor Rose T_T Also Nico please say something.

“If something was bothering you, you could have talked about it with someone you trusted!” You know, Eden tried to do that with Teruko, and Teruko shot her down. I wonder if that’ll come into play…

“I don’t trust anyone here.” :O Well that’s a reveal.

Woo new Hu sprite! She is breaking down! But bestie please I don’t think you can fix them!

“Hu, I—“ Nico looks so done lmao.

“You trust me, right?” They just say they didn’t. Man, she is not beating the savior complex allegations with this one, huh?

Bro please let Nico talk.

“Are you a billionaire? Because that’s rich!” Ace you are not as clever as you think you are. xD

“Murder is murder…” Indeed, J the voice of reason.

“Why can’t either Ace or Nico simply tell us what happened?” You know we’re fucked when Arturo’s the voice of reason. Although I imagine Ace will shout at him that he doesn’t remember because he was unconscious.

[Ace shouts at Arturo] Got the reason wrong, but the shouting was there.

“Don’t throw two birds and a stone in a glass house, asshole.” Mixing two idiots there, big guy.

“They put some sort of cloth on my mouth…” Ah, there’s the unconsciousness shouting. By the way, full confirmation turpentine is just chloroform in this universe, nice.

[Charles lays down the law on Hu] Thank you, resident brain cell holder! How did they even get out of the first trial without you?

“I was going to!” Yo new Nico sprite is crazy!!! They’re going in!

“I was going to…” Oh, they’re trying to remain calm. That’s pretty cool of them!

“If you say what you think happened, I’ll help.” (Paraphrased) Yeah I was wondering how the dev was gonna write this without it being a twenty minute Nico monologue, this tracks.

Yo “fake” Closing Argument is crazy.

THE FUCKING LIGHT!!!! HOW THE FUCK DID IT NOT OCCUR TO ANY OF THE FIFTEEN PEOPLE THAT TRIED TO SOLVE THIS!!! I guess cause nothing pointed to it but y’know.

“How would that have worked?” Broom to move the fan? I came up with that in my original theory on this thing, though I think that was for the very first method which was clinically insane.

[Broom reveal] Ah, close but not quite. That’s actually quite smart! I’m surprised no one thought of that either.

[Releasing wire] …Am I stupid or does this not work? What would the wire get caught on?

{Yeah I still don’t think I get it? Like if the wire was moving from above the fan to around the broom, there’s nothing stopping it from going from around the broom to above the fan, so Ace would just fall. Did it get caught on the tape somehow? But how would Nico be able to put it around the broom then? Also how does the fan break? The wire would exert force from above and the side, not below, which is what the image makes it look like. I don’t think I understood this I’m so sorry.}

Oh, Ace woke up before the murder attempt was over! Good job badjoe for calling that!

Also are we far enough in to confirm Nico did this by themselves? I don’t have anything against those that believed otherwise, but I personally like it better this way. I imagine the theories aren’t 100% dead, as always, but y’know.

“And then I… Y’know…” THAT’S WHY THE BLOOD ON THE WIRES DOESN’T MAKE FUCKING SENSE!!! Man, as much as I love the EP 6 CG, it was not clear at all that they were that close, especially when the loose wire seemed closer to the entrance. {Looking back, yeah, I’m just not good at perspective on these rooms. The wires were closer to Ace than it looked}.

… Well there’s the small bit on the end of the loose wire that I’m still not sure how it got there, but close enough!

{Yeah it’s not. Believe it or not, I don’t even think the canon method fully explains the fucking blood.

How the fuck was Nico using this exactly? I imagine the small bit of blood on the end is from the noose (which funnily enough, I kinda called there would be a noose, just got where Ace’s neck would be wrong), so then the middle is the part they used as a garrote. But… then where did the blood on the wire on the fan come from? Where they using both simultaneously?

Am I losing my fucking mind? How is it possible I still don’t understand the evidence even after All That? Has my brain simply rotted? And don’t even get me started on everything that wasn’t brought up! What the hell even is this case?

Then again, it’s midnight when I’m writing these hindsight observations, so I don’t think I’m operating at full brain capacity}

“What an interesting murder plan.” Veronika I love you.

“I tried to kill Ace and pin the murder on Hu. What else should I say?” I love you too Nico.

“And after all’s said and done, you can’t even say something as simple as “sorry”?” … Is Nico about to secret quote us?

“I tried to kill you because I don’t like you. Even now, there’s still no use to try and pretend that I like you. If I say “sorry,” you’re still going to hate me. So what else should I say?” Okay crisis averted. Still, this is a really interesting perspective, and I love it a lot. It calls back to Nico not understanding niceties like “please pass the salt,” which, relatable. If they’re not sorry, and Ace won’t get anything out of it, why lie? Very fun.

“D-Do you even regret what you did?” Poor Rose she’s taking this so badly T_T She still doesn’t have an answer as if Nico ever wanted to paint or not.

“I’m not Levi; of course I feel bad about something like that! I’m not heartless!” Yikes on calling Levi heartless, but interesting line for character analysis I guess.

“That was the worst choice that I’ve made in my life.” Wow, really cool new sprite and a lot of Nico info, this is awesome for us Nico enjoyers! (I call myself a Nico enjoyer like I don’t love every single character in the cast lol).

“My teachers, my classmates, my father…” Holy shit this is depressing.

“I’m not the victim here.” Damn, Nico. Just loving all this.

“So I don’t see the point in acting sorry.” Holy shit the sprites and the writing are on point today! {I’m sorry if my commentary’s not exactly thrilling, sometimes I’m just too invested to do anything but stare in awe.}

Rose: “I don’t know how to feel anymore” Sibling can you please give her a fucking answer damn.

“What does this have to do with the case? Everything.” Are we… doing “the pulley was used because they weren’t strong enough to murder otherwise” or…? I don’t know where else this would go.

“Coincidence? Hardly.” Does… Does Teruko already have Eden clocked (heh) as the murderer? No, right? It’s the strength thing probs.

“…They specifically intended for this murder case to be similar to Nico’s murder.” Wait does she actually think it’s Ace or Eden what?

[Non-stop, Bound Wrists] … I have nothing. Nico didn’t bind Ace’s wrists. What is happening.

[Bullet fired] Okay, slight nitpick that I’m pretty sure bothers me and no one else. I get that it’s hard to come up with phrases to shoot bullets at, but “there’s no evidence of that” or some variation is the thing that gets shot in, like, 90% of these Non-Stops Debates. Again, not really important, just wanted to point out a pet peeve of mine.

“One of the pieces of evidence was taken directly from the crime scene…” Oh now we’re bringing up the tape! Teruko didn’t identify it in the spinny thing so I was wondering if she was going to make the connection on her own, but I guess I should have never doubted the Queen.

“I finally figured out what this tape is…” Okay that makes sense. But has she actually clocked (heh x2) that Eden or Ace must have taken it? She’s acting real chill about it.

“It’s the tape from the gym.” (Paraphrased) Woo! It feels super satisfying to finally read those words in a trial setting. Another exceedingly common badjoe W, as they’re who pointed out the tape’s disappearance to me.

“That time Rose and I went to the gym together…” Oh so she knows knows.

“But didn’t MonoTV clean up the gym?” Yeah that would be convenient for you huh. There’s still a chance Ace is the culprit and she’s trying to defend him, but it’s looking rough.

{Actually in retrospect yeah what the fuck?}

“…I attempted to restore the gym to its original condition.” Which would include the tape being there. It might be over chat.

“… why didn’t you recognize it earlier, Rose?” She didn’t look at the crime scene queen. But it was in the trash. Geez Rose is just gonna feel awful after this trial, I’m really interested to see where her character will go.

“Wooow!” Fucking David jumpscare-

Yo why’s David of all people being a hater you wanted them to lose the trial.

[David blames Arturo for Arei’s death] Considering Felicity, low blow. I hate David so much (/affectionate).

“I can’t even recall what day that happened.” Oh so she’s breaking down breaking down.

[Rose speech] The Rose angst is insane this episode, I’m loving every second. In addition, there might be a line here that could point to Rose!MM. But to keep the habit, I’m not elaborating on that (on this post).

“Rose. You are helpful.” Let me ignore the Terurose agenda for a moment and point out that Teruko’s still being way too chill about this if she’s about to call out Eden. Is she putting on a front? She mentioned hurting when Eden talked to her in the kitchen, so she probably does care, but isn’t letting herself show it? Oof if true.

“That I could be dismissive […] without consequences.” Oh we might be starting the “Teruko learns to trust a bit again” arc sooner than I expected. Cool! Also she’s not about to secret quote us right? {She wasn’t}.

“Thank you, Rose.” Okay I am no longer ignoring the Terurose agenda this ship is about to pop off I feel and I love that.

“…that tells me exactly who the murderer could be.” It might be Edenover.

Select Two People! But she said after Ace ran out, right? Is she gonna point at Ace and Eden, or herself and Eden?

Nope, Ace and Eden. Well, those are the two I landed on!

“It’s you two, right?” [Voice Line] You make it sound like Ace!Accomplice or Eden!Accomplice are even like remotely possible, and I find that funny.

“What’s your reasoning?” Veronika I love you but she’s spent the last ten minutes explaining her reasoning.

By the way, while Teruko’s repeating more or less the same lockdown logic I must have explained in at least three or four different posts (honestly kinda surreal ngl), it’s gonna be really funny if the only reason the class can confidently rule out Teruko as a suspect is because her handwriting sucks too much which is honestly the best argument for her innocence besides protag privilege :v

“I’m the least suspicious because I’ve been helping” is the second best argument lol.

“But to be frank, most of you are incapable of [acting logically]” Tell ‘em Teruko!

I’ll refrain from pointing bv out every suspicious Eden line because I always feel like I’m leaning too much on confirmation bias for it, but let’s be clear, I’m seeing them.

Hu: “Eden isn’t the killer! Don’t accuse her!” Bro.

“I do have evidence!” BDA?

Called it! If we’re bringing it up this early, though… I’m assuming it’s not so simple.

“You all are moving way too fucking fast.” I feel the same way Ace. {For the first time in the trial}.

“Hold on.” Wait is David gonna be the one to bring in the possible workaround(s)? Why the- I thought you wanted to lose? What the fuck is he even doing anymore???

“Oh my my my. That’s an issue.” You saw the body didn’t you.

“Because I’m actually the first person to see the body.” Well, there goes the “See No Evil” idea, which I kinda liked. Unless he’s just lying, which would honestly make more sense; he’d be trying to lead the trial astray again.

Okay but this is adorable.

“… at least one innocent person.” David, it’s- it’s at least two. How are this bad at math.

Nico: “Do you expect everyone to believe such an obvious lie?” This really is the Nico episode, huh? But it does make sense for them to push Ace as the culprit, I guess.

“He’s lying? Really?” Poor Levi’s got no fucking clue what’s going on.

“… he just conveniently avoided [the BDA group]” oh right they searched the whole floor before going to the playground David’s story is practically impossible.

Alright who’s gonna make the “What’s your source?” “I made it the fuck up!” meme with J/Nico and David?

“The only person who I need to believe me is Teruko.”

…

?????????????????????????????

(I feel like I write that exact sequence of characters every episode)

Are you just trying to go for a Teruvid angle to counteract the Terurose earlier? (/silly but really what the fuck-)

[David explains about Teruko’s skepticism] Yeah I guess. But, just so we’re clear: David still thinks the culprit is Ace and is just doing this to make them lose the trial right? Because otherwise what the actual fuck.

“AllI want is for Teruko to distrust others.” Motherfucker what-

[David’s whole Thing] You know, I really thought, I really fucking thought after Ep13, that we would get a break of a few episodes of David Bullshit, but no! What in the ever loving fuck is he even doing anymore???? No theories at this point, it is almost 11 PM where I am I do not have the brainpower to deal with this son of a bitch.

Levi: “Now that I think about it, Eden is in a good position to be Arei’s killer after all.” I feel a scrum debate forming.

“…why would I help it piece [the note] back together…?” I was right to avoid the bias. This line could be perfectly innocent, but the moment I read it, my mind said “she’s saying this too confidently, she had it planned, it’s Edenover.”

“Why… Levi, why?” While I do think Levi!Accomplice just 100% died of it wasn’t dead already, this line does read very funny with the context of that theory.

[Eden Breakdown] Man, {even after how much I’ve been sussing Eden in this and every other episode}, it sure does look like Ace is the culprit huh? Like, this scene is so beautiful and incredible it might just sway me to Ace!Culprit. The CGs are amazing, the music and the voice acting is terribly moving, the dialogue’s fantastic, holy fucking shit. I almost want to cry that was so fantastic. I— I wish I had more words, but that just left me speechless.

-

General Thoughts:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!

(/positive)

I don’t think I could have asked for more, this is just fucking perfect. Nico’s whole thing was great, the Rose angst was unexpected but wholly welcome, the tape reveal was revealed, David… Chiem, and the Eden CG stuff. Just absolutely fantastic all around.

…Slightly miffed the blood on the wires is still somehow not 100% consistent with the described method but WHATEVER it WORKS i do NOT wanna look at those fucking things again.

Theory Updates

Yeah it’s Ace.

Okay that’s dramatic lol. Eden!Culprit is not 100% dead, but off the top of my head, I can’t actually think of anything the characters can use to clear Ace rn. The only reason I believed Eden!Culprit over Ace!Culprit is that I didn’t think Teruko and even Eden could have missed Ace grabbing the tape upon waking up, especially with the sprite disappearing when Eden was on the ground, but… uh… apparently Teruko doesn’t trust herself so much.

With that glaring issue fixed, I actually think Ace!Culprit is significantly more solid than Eden!Culprit. No workaround needed for the BDA, no weird “are they even strong enough to do this” questions, and while the fish paradox Exists, Ace might have thought that putting fish there would make people think of Nico. Which, given the killer also somehow expected the class to figure out the similarities to Nico’s method when only a grand total of four people saw it, one of them being Nico themselves; yeah, I’d think he might be stupid enough for that.

EDIT: Also forgot to mention, Ace waking up before the murder attempt was over solves the issue of him figuring it all out. He actually straight up saw the method, he’d know how to replicate it.

And those Teruko-Eden CGs, man… I always had to really suspend my disbelief on some of Eden’s lines, even with venus’ narrative defense, but… come on. I’ve said this before; I have my limits.

All that added to the fact that Teruko seems to really want to start her “begin to trust again” arc, the fact David pushed for Eden!Culprit… it’s looking Ace!Culprit.

To be clear, there’s still things like Eden’s “Teruko, wait—!” that work better under Eden!Culprit, but I feel those are comparable to other potentially small foreshadowing moments such as Ace being weirdly fixated on the carousel. Eden!Culprit is, again, not fully dead, as other than strength, BDA and fish (all of which have workarounds), there’s not much concrete evidence clearing her. But at this point, I… don’t know. I’ve always felt kinda bad reading scenes like the kitchen talk with Teruko with as much suspicion as I did, but these final CGs, hmm…

Maybe my perspective will change with a clearer mind in the morning, but these are “first impressions” for a reason. They’re not meant to be very cohesive.

And if I’m wrong and it is Eden, well then I’ll have been wrong for a week or two instead of a year, so. Who cares at this point.

Speaking of getting things wrong, the Nico thing. I got Nico!SoloAceAttacker (is that the right notation?) right, and the really obvious stuff like using the stool to reach the fan. I’m also gonna give myself half points for guessing the broom was used to move the wire on the fan all the way back in my first post, but other than that, I did not cook. In my defense, a lot of the evidence (Nico’s missing cloak, the missing tape on the pull-up bar unless it’s somehow the roll, the isolated weights and toppled weight rack, and who knows what else) ended up not mattering in the slightest, which threw me off. Also, I call bullshit on this explaining the blood on the wires, that splatter pattern still doesn’t make sense with what was described. I guess my life isn’t Nico’s after all.

On the other hand, I’m a bit more confident on the remaining aspects of the Arei murder theory now that I believe the culprit is strong enough to pull it all off without issue, but we’ll have to see on that. My guess for culprit ended up changing for now, but the reasoning for arriving at them (tape) was solid, so we’ll see how that pans out.

All in all, immaculate episode. Chef’s kiss. Perfection. Holy shit. See you again soon!

[gothicknightz]

3am pt. 2 | ethan landry

notes: omg you guys 😭😭 i love appreciate every one of you ty for keeping the hype alive, SCREAM 6 SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

She awoke up in a horrible cold sweat, having the worst nightmare about getting attacked by Ghostface on her way back from a party Chad had invited her to.

Sitting up in a disarray and out of breath, the quick pain shooting from the side of her stomach hitting instantly.

So it wasn't a dream.

Now sitting up, her heart was racing as she looked around and spotted Ethan, her boyfriend, passed out on a nearby chair, his phone still in hand.

She could barely remember what had happened before she passed out, but she assumed that Ethan had found her.

Then his phone started to ring.

This startled Ethan awake, nearly dropping his phone in the process. As he noticed his girlfriend in front of him, he rushed over to her side immediately.

“(y/n), you're awake.”

He was careful when it came to hugging her, as her stab wound was recently patched up, and it was a miracle that the knife didn't hit any vital organs.

"Yeah," She mumbled, groaning as she attempted to sit up, "Someone's callin' you, Ethan." Her eyes flashed to caller I.D, which flashed a picture of Chad in a Hawaiian shirt and cowboy hat.

Ethan was too tired to react properly, and in turn, picked up the phone without a proper introduction or 'yeah.' Instead, the news was dropped onto him that Anika and Quinn were murdered by Ghostface.

"What?" His face was painted in a look of shock as he glanced worriedly at (y/n), holding her closer yet gently.

"How's (y/n), is she doing alright?"

"She's a fighter. I'll be there."

As he hung up, Ethan turned to his girlfriend and planted a kiss on her head, "Look," He said, placing an arm around her shoulders, "Anika and Quinn were murdered, and I- I'm gonna go check up with everyone, okay?"

(y/n) shook her head dismissively before pushing herself upwards, Ethan quickly going to her side for her aid, "I'm coming whether you like it or not. I wanna catch this guy as much as I want him dead."

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

As Ethan and (y/n) arrive at the crime scene, Mindy was fairly accusatory after the death of her girlfriend, Anika, to which Ethan brought up the fact that he was with (y/n) at the hospital after her attack.

"Mindy, what the hell?" (y/n) ran a hand through her hair as she sat on one of the open ambulances, sighing, "I've literally been in the hospital. How could Ethan be the killer?"

"Maybe that's the cover-up. Maybe he had someone paid to dress up as Ghostface and stab you. Maybe you two are both in on it. Just think about what happened with Richie and Amber."

This annoyed (y/n), who got up and pointed to her right lateral side, "I literally got fucking stabbed! Lay off the accusations, expert, your girlfriend just dropped dead."

Mindy narrowed her eyes at the pair before being held back by her brother, who was subsequently followed by Gale brining up something that the gang would want to see.

In a matter of minutes, the group of teenagers accompanied by Kirby, Gale, and Detective Bailey, were all at some supposed 'Stab' shrine in which all of the costumes and clothes of victims were compiled into an abandoned movie theatre.

Unsettled by the fact that the past was unearthed in front of her, (y/n) was by Ethan's side the entire time, not understanding any of the backstory that came with the tragedy.

Taking a dark trip down memory lane, (y/n) sighed before the words of Kirby got her attention, dragging a way to catch, or at least, trace the killer.

Hopefully, this was the end of it.

(ughhhhhhhh im not satisfied with this ending, you know there's automatically going to be more.)

[rottenpumpkin13]

need the firsts to play paintball. who takes it WAY too seriously? who gets paint in their mouth accidentally? who does it on purpose?

The story of why/how Cloud got court martialled for dunking Sephiroth's head in a bucket of paint

• Nothing good comes out of Genesis being bored at 2PM during a slow work day. Following that logic, horrible horrible things come out of Genesis dropping a paintball gun on Angeal's desk.

Genesis: We're playing paintball. Whoever shoots the most paint at their target wins.

Angeal: You are unbelievably childish. Do you really think Sephiroth is immature enough to go along with this?

*Sephiroth appears at the door and shoots Angeal and Genesis with paintballs*

Angeal:

Genesis:

Sephiroth: Tell me, what does defeat feel like? I wouldn't know.

• Sephiroth runs away.

• Sephiroth didn't think this through because now Angeal is running after him with a paintball, vowing to shoot Sephiroth's hair with paint.

*Angeal shoots, Sephiroth ducks*

• It hits Zack with red paint. Zack immediately throws himself to the ground.

Zack: I'M DYING.

Angeal: It's red paint.

Zack: I'VE BEEN PAINTED WITH DEATH.

Angeal:

Zack: MY DREADFULLY SHORT LIFE HAS COME TO AN END. WHO WILL TAKE CARE OF MY TAMAGOTCHI WHEN I'M NO LONGER HERE TO CARE FOR THOSE I LOVE?

Angeal: You're literally fine. The paint didn't even hit a fatal area.

*Kunsel and Roche appear. Kunsel starts drawing a chalk outline of Zack's body while Roche hangs up crime scene tape*

Angeal: ???

• Meanwhile Genesis gets to Sephiroth first. He corners him by the data room and shoots him with paint.

• This angers Sephiroth greatly.

• Sephiroth starts walking towards him slowly.

• Genesis tries to shoot him again. but the paintball is stuck.

• Sephiroth continues to approach.

• Genesis starts sobbing while trying to shoot him.

• Sephiroth is near.

*Lazard walks in on this scene*

Lazard: Are you two serious? I'm in disbelief. Never would I have thought you would sink to this level.

• Genesis panic-shoots Lazard instead.

• This time the paint does come out.

• There is now yellow paint on Lazard's expensive suit and glasses.

Genesis: Oh no. Sephiroth, help. What do we do?

*Genesis looks to Sephiroth for help. Sephiroth is long gone*

Genesis: Son of a bitch.

• Lazard drags Genesis away by the ear. They walk by the break room, where a funeral for Zack is being held. Kunsel is reading the eulogy while Zack (alive) lays in the casket. Angeal is screaming "FOR FUCKS SAKE. HE'S ALIVE. IT WAS RED PAINT."

• Sephiroth appears out of nowhere and panic-hits Lazard in the head with the paintball gun.

• Lazard is knocked out.

Genesis: Sephiroth! Did you shoot the director just to save me? I'm flattered. I cannot believe I ever doubted your friendship.

Sephiroth: I don't know what you mean. I simply intend to finish our game.

*Sephiroth points the paintball gun at Genesis*

Genesis: You motherless whore.

• Sephiroth shoots.

• Genesis ducks.

• It hits Cloud Strife, who had just arrived on the 49th floor to attend Zack's fake funeral. Cloud is now covered in purple paint.

Sephiroth: Oh, Cloud, my apologies. I had meant to shoot Genesis to settle our dispute, but you were unfortunately caught in the crossfire.

Cloud:

Sephiroth: While I understand why this may be a cause for anger, I believe in your ability to handle matters calmly without holding onto resentment or taking it personally.

Cloud:

Sephiroth: Right?

Cloud:

Sephiroth: Why is my sword in your hand?

[divineei]

TOOTM  one. to keep a promise

! ko kyungjun x fem!reader

a/n. this shit took so long omfg. whoever said writing was easy can suck my nonexistent left nutsack.

"i don't get why this is even a discussion."

"oh, cmon! you don't think the conflict around it is interesting?"

"whether its interesting or not doesn't matter because this shouldn't be an existing argument. if your partner or someone you love commits a murder and there's serious evidence pointing back to them, how could you just act like it's not even there?"

"dude, you're missing the point entirely. the question is not about what you would do in that situation, it's about what you should believe."

"that's so stupid. the only factor you should need is evidence. it doesn't matter if the accused is a long time friend, your partner, or even your child. sure, your judgment on their character is still relevant, but if their fingerprints were found at the crime scene there's just no way you can objectively ignore their culpability. at that point, you should either believe your partner is guilty or at best remain undecided."

"in that case, would you say that following the evidence is morally required?"

"absolutely."

"you don't think there might be other ethical factors to consider?"

"for example?"

"even though the evidence is strong, there's still a chance they might not be guilty. imagine how it would feel like to be innocent and have no one believe you, not even your own partner! by not supporting them you run the risk of seriously hurting them on a crucial time of need. and consider what this lack of trust would do to your relationship. could you really go on after seriously suspecting–and believing–they're a murderer?"

"are you saying you'd rather ignore the crimes of your partner, even when the truth is staring you in the face, just for the sake of love?"

outside of the ethical dilemma resonating through yoon yn's headphones, the girl shifted around on her seat. her limbs felt numb from remaining unmoving for so long and, even though the only companion by her side was her bag, the compact space paid no mercy on her back. 

after finding a comfortable position she set her eyes on the view outside the window. sunlight hued over the fields of grass and the occasional farm, making the rural landscape imitate a painting in motion shaped by the most gentle brush strokes. the scene felt so engrossingly peaceful, she could almost feel the gale caressing her features despite the glass separating her from the world. 

yn couldn't help but thank the scene–and the long lasting battery of her headphones–for giving her something to focus on, seeing as the ride to the resort her class was directed towards had resulted to be such an otherwise tiresome one. 

"YES!"

an obnoxious voice popped yn's bubble in spite of the maximum volume she'd set for her podcast. distracted by the sound she turned to glance at the very back of the bus, where the students grouped up at the last row of leathered seats frowned in unison at heo yool–who mocked them with the cheekiest grin one could imagine. judging by their sullen looks, yn figured the citizens had lost yet another round of mafia, a game they'd been playing for who knows how long.

she recalled when her classmates had urged her to join the game the moment she stepped into the bus, which she declined, prioritizing her tranquility over the headache she knew they'd give her, yet promising she'd join in the next time. 

after figuring out the source of that ruckus yn set her focus back on her podcast, purposely missing the eyes of the guy she'd been avoiding to the best of her abilities for days now.

just a few rows behind her, kyung jun's eyes never left yn as she disappeared between the sea of heads flooding the bus, and his scheme of intentionally leaving the space by his side unoccupied for her came to mind, especially remembering how his grand plan backfired when that fucking basketball-star-wannabe gave up his seat for her.

that annoying prick just couldn't get the memmo, couldn't he? to him, hyun ho had always been a nuisance; a pest that treaded on yn's heels at every chance he got–even when she used to hang onto the feared delinquent's arm.

"they're so loud," kyung jun muttered. he'd been trying to settle down the bittersweet echoes of his mind since the start of that damned school trip, in vain, since the blaring voices behind him made the flare that was his temper even harder to quell than any of those memories.

luckily, he needn't lift a single finger to make the commotion stop, and he was able to get some peace of mind thanks to his lackeys acting as spokesmen for his aggravation. 

on the other side of the large vehicle, kim so mi sneakily took pictures of the class president. 

"hey look, isn't he gorgeous?" the vice president called, showing what was sure to be one of her new favorite pictures to her friends seated behind: park ji soo, cha yoo joon and park woo ram. "doesn't this belong in a magazine? how can he look so gorgeous?" so mi repeated with a dreamy sigh, looking at her screen.

"i will tell jun hee tomorrow that you took a photo of him," woo ram threatened with a playful smile.

"oh yeah? what if i tell yn about all the videos you have?" so mi replied, pointing at the camera that always hanged around the guy's neck. 

"please do, maybe i'll finally seduce her."

"oh my god," exclaimed yoo joon, "you are so delusional."

"why?" he lifted one of his hands in response to the very serious offense.

"dude, you barely talk to her."

"woo ram, you have the same chances of getting with yn as me and yoo joon of breaking up." ji soo stated.

the guy in mention glanced at his girlfriend, seemingly unaware of the joke. "that's zero, right?" question to which ji soo only rolled her eyes.

"i don't care what you say," woo ram brushed off. "i know she's the love of my life."

"ko kyung jun!" called out so mi.

like a tiny animal trying to save itself from a threatening predator, woo ram jumped to the empty seat by his side, hiding from the vandal's peripheral as much as possible while the rest of his companions laughed.

"fuck, kim so mi!" he cried out, "you trying to get me killed?"

"relax, he's not even looking," revealed the vice president with a cheeky smile.

as if they'd rehearsed it, the four students turned around to catch ko kyung jun's eyes still set on yoon yn, and by the looks of it, he didn't have any plans to cease his staring.

"not seeing them together is kinda weird," yoo joon pointed out.

"does anyone know why they broke up?" so mi asked to her peers, who all looked at each other expecting an answer none of them had.

"whatever," dismissed ji soo, "yn is better off without him anyway."

"yeah, she's been around us a lot more since then." agreed so mi.

"i bet kyung jun barely let her talk to us."

"right? he looks like the controlling type."

"i would never treat her like that." acknowledged woo ram, making his way back into the conversation only to get beaten back down by the three others.

the time inside the bus seemed to work differently than the rest of the world. minutes and hours mixed up in a disorienting spectacle that at least seemed to follow the sun setting over the horizon. 

when they finally arrived to the resort, the only source of light were the numerous lamps adorning the streets and the inviting shine of the building before them.

with the bus door finally opened, the students of class 2-3 thronged the exit with overwhelming excitement. the trip had been longer that the teacher had promised and everyone was ready to get comfortable on their temporary rooms. of course, that included yn, who unfortunately had to wait for the rest of her classmates to take their suitcases out of the loaded trunk since her luggage ended up dropping to the back during the ride.

after everyone collected their belongings, the girl was able to retrieve her case at last. it was somewhat heavy but the tiny wheels at the bottom made it easier for her to slide the valise out of the bus' compartment. taking out the retractable handle, yn rolled her suitcase for at most six steps before someone else got ahold of it.

"what are you doing?" she questioned, but the guy simply walked away while pulling her luggage along and up the stairs.

"kyung jun." 

at the sound of his name, he stopped. walking towards him, yn stood right between the entrance and the suitcase-stealer. 

"what do you think? i'm helping you."

"i can do it myself." yn chided, staring him down harshly.

kyung jun had received many looks like that one throughout his life. from parents, teachers, students... they were all identical, ranging from disappointment to resentment and back. he was used to it. it was his day to day, how could he not be? yet he never imagined the same eyes that used to watch him with so much endearment would scrutinize him so cruelly. 

"you used to love when i carried your stuff." he reminded her, scanning yn's face for a spec of something–anything–he hoped could save him from the pain her gaze struck him with.

the girl let out an exasperated sigh. why couldn't he leave her be? why was it that, no matter how much she wanted to distance herself, he always found a way to squeeze back into her life? 

yn grabbed the handle of her suitcase and pulled. she wanted to leave, to get away from his side and free herself of his piercing eyes. unfortunately his strength surpassed hers, and she was forced to stay as he kept his grip.

"can you let go?" 

"yn," he asked but the girl just focused on the luggage he kept hostage. "can we talk?"

"about what?" she sneered, speaking with as much disdain her troubled feelings allowed.

"you know what." 

once again, she sighed. his antics were so infuriating; always pushing down the barrier she tried to put between the two. 

"not now."

"then when?" he instantly snapped back, then took a deep breath to stop his grating tone. "you always say that but then you ignore me for days."

"look, i don't have time for this." for the second time, she attempted to retrieve her case. "i promised i'd help with the preparations for the class picture, so–"

"oh, c'mon," and still, he pulled back. "since when do you care about this school-spirit-bullshit?"

he was right, yn never involved herself with whatever activities the school came up with. time and time again, they'd skipped so many classes as to not get involved with all those school projects they both deemed as meaningless, deciding to spend their mornings strolling around parks and nearby shopping districts instead. but that wasn't an option anymore, and yn needed some way to blurr the images that kept torturing her with the agonizing nostalgia of a broken relationship.

"promise me we'll talk. tonight." 

"sure," for the third time, she attempted to take back her luggage. but his answer was the same.

"no, yn. promise me."

with every fiber of her being, yn summoned the last shreds of her patience and met his gaze. his eyes held her captive, beseeching her in silence to unravel the troubles he was willing to share with no one but her, and the hypnotic pull of his gaze weakened her willpower to resist.

"i promise." she reluctantly gave in.

as kyung jun finally released the carry-on, yn didn't even bat an eye before snatching it up and walking away. however, as she made her way into the resort center, she couldn't help but feel frustrated with herself for falling for his tricks. all the effort she had put into avoiding him seemed to have gone down the drain so quickly, leaving her feeling defeated.

not wanting kyung jun to catch up to her, yn rushed inside the building. 

warm lights illuminated the vast entrance, composed by a lounge area with leathered sofas that accentuated the beige walls with brighter colors and a water dispenser conveniently placed next to the cushioned seats. at the center, a beautiful statue engulfed by faint blue lighting towered over everything below. the perfectly crafted marble giant was impossible to miss, looking like a still guardian watching over the resort's grounds. yet that didn't stop yn from overlooking the sign with the qr code needed for the resort's wifi and facility app.

following the arrows pointing out the way towards the elevator, yn got in and pressed the button labeled dormitories. the heavy doors slid and shut before the steel cage trembled, signaling its vertical movement. suddenly, the girl felt the air tighten inside her chest, twisting her lungs in a way that seemed to strangle them. oxygen got caught up in her throat as images of cables snapping and an imminent fall to her death plagued her mind. in, out, in, out. yn's breath increased as rapidly as tidal waves when the lights malfunctioned and in between flickers, she saw a dark figure out of the corner of her eye. 

the moment she snapped her head back to take a look, a faint bell announced the door sliding open. taking in the air as steadily as she could, yn grabbed her suitcase and escaped the cage of death. frightened and disoriented, she questioned if what just concurred has been a quick fever dream or reality. and if it wasn't, why did her mind torture her like that? as far as she knew, never in her life had she experienced something that'd cause this crippling fear of high spaces. so why...?

she shook her head and brushed off the uncanny feeling, dismissing it as a consequence from the tiresome trip and forcing herself to focus on finding the room she shared with ahn na hee and kim so mi, who'd invited her with overwhelming coercion. compared to the elevator ride, figuring out her way to her dormitory was a piece of cake. the girl left her stuff in an empty corner and took the stairs down towards the gymnasium. there, instead of getting scolded by the teacher like she expected, what greeted her was a plethora of different activities performed by her classmates. 

in the middle of the room, a group of students flawlessly danced to the rhythm of the songs reverberating from a large speaker, followed by lee joo young and choi mi na silently fighting for the spotlight, and being interrupted by ko kyung jun, who apparently had nothing better to do than to mess with their practice by turning off the music while his two loyal followers, shin seung bin and kim jin ha, played a very dedicated match of ping-pong.

on opposite corners of the gym, jin da bum, choi joo won, lee yoon seo and oh jung won were consecutively separated in two pairs, all conversing with their respective best friends. up on the second floor, cha yoo joon and park ji soo, who never seemed to stay away from each other, watched from above. on the stage, band members im eun chan, nam yeon woo and baek eun ha dabbled with their instruments to make sure everything was perfectly in tune. lastly, jang hyun ho and kim dong hyun busied themselves by organizing all the sport equipment laying around.

"yoon yn!" called kim jun hee from a large set of tables surrounded by the other members of the student council which, of course, included kim so mi and her friend ahn na hee.

with no sight of their teacher around yn walked stress-free to said table, although not before catching park woo ram pointing his camera right at her, which made the guy hastily turning to film someone else. 

"you're here," the class president stated. "we thought you got lost or something."

"sorry, i got caught up with something." yn replied. she didn't really care about these preparations, but she did promise to help, and yn wasn't the type to use that word lightly.

"yeah! i was going to text you but we've been so busy preparing everything." so mi ranted, sprinkling salt into the wound.

"i can see that," yn commented, deciding to ignore so mi's backhanded scolding.

"what happened, though? did you really get lost?" na hee asked. 

"no, i got stopped by kyung jun."

"oh, right. he was a bit late too now that I think about it."

"is that jackass bothering you again?" hyun ho, who'd come closer to the table just as yn approached, joined in and put a hand on her shoulder.

"no," yes. "everything's fine."

truth be told, yn would rather drop dead than having to deal with kyung jun. however, she knew that telling her classmates about it wouldn't lead to a positive outcome. after all, the only person who had the courage to confront the delinquent was hyun ho, and, given their history, yn was certain his involvement would only make matters worse.

in another area of the bustling gym, the noticeable trio of vandals were causing a ruckus in the corner. as they tossed a basketball back and forth, jin ha hurled the ball at kyung jun, who was too busy gawking at yn's arrival to notice. the ball smacked him right in the chest–a painful reminder of how his focus seemed to always follow after her. 

"shit, my bad!" jin ha exclaimed.

their leader squatted to grab the ball at his feet and got back up only for his gaze to fix back towards the girl who constantly distracted him and, of-fucking-course, hyun ho standing right next to her, as always. the sight made his blood boil and his knuckles turn white as he clenched the basketball in his hands, while his rapid heartbeats deafened any coherent thought telling him to settle down.

seeing this, jin ha and seung bin looked at each other before the latter sighed and came closer to his friend. throwing one arm around his shoulders, he spoke:

"why don't we go outside, man? get your head out the gutter."

"yeah," kyung jun agreed, seeing seung bin was clearly trying his best to support him. perhaps he was right, some air would probably do him good right now. "let's go." was the last thing he said before disappearing through the gymnasium's exit, just in time to miss the teacher entering from the other side.

after informing the class presidents about a problem regarding the other bus full of students set to accompany them on this field trip, he left, clearly in a panic because of the unexpected turn of events.

in the meantime, most of class 2-3 remained in the gymnasium. no more than a few minutes went by before the dancing group, who now were fixing their hair and makeup while sitting on the floor, called yn over. ever since they found out about her break up, the girls had been offered her to go out again and again, an opportunity they took to invite her to join their club with not-so-subtle comments. 

"oh yn, you should hang out with us more!" were the kind of utterances she always received from the class' cheerleaders.

mi na had insisted on brushing yn's hair. taking the empty stop in front of her classmate, she felt the bristles effortlessly flowing through the roots of her hair to its ends. the conversation was an amicable one. the girls often taking their time to butter up yn and saying how cool it'd be to have her in their club–until the self proclaimed hairdresser decided to dive into something she'd been curious about.

"hey yn."

"yeah?" she answered, eyes closed while enjoying the soothing sensation of the hairbrush.

"why did you and kyung jun brake up?"

mi na found herself at a loss for words when she faced the disapproving and critical stares of the entire group. why would you ask that? their glares yelled in silence, making her feel like she just made a terrible mistake.

"that's between him and i, mi na." yn abruptly ended the change of topic.

why did they break up? that's a question she'd been asked countless times ever since her classmates took note of their separation. a query yn remembered avoiding like a plague, long before this trip. only this time, a strange, guttural discomfort buried into every corner of her brain as she noticed a spec of something missing, unable to put together if the same evasion came as a reflex or because she couldn't answer it herself.

"right," mi na's shame, reinforced by the brutal glares of the other girls, took over her face as her cheeks flushed. "sorry."

luckily for her, just as her face morphed into a cherry tomato, a painful ringing roared through the speakers before the absence of light engulfed the high schoolers in deep darkness.

"c'mon! what is this?" one said.

"what's going on?" asked another.

"hey, turn the lights on!" resonated a voice from above.

a loud clang similar to a metal pipe hitting a hard surface echoed over the four walls, followed by the piercing shrieks of several people. helping themselves with the flashlights provided by their phones, the students revealed a white figure in the middle of the room.

"quit joking around." before any more screeches could be heard, hyun ho launched a basketball to the sheeted ghost, making it fall to the ground just as pathetically as your average cartoon villain.

with the precision of a well-rehearsed act, the room was suddenly lit up, revealing the mischievous culprit behind the childish prank. and lo and behold, it was none other than heo yool.

the collection of complaints from everybody present synced in a perfect expression of annoyance and the occasional insult. 

"guys, listen carefully." the class clown™ gathered his classmates' attention as he stood from the ground. "i've heard that, a long time ago, a high school girl killed herself here," he explained, playing the role of a surprisingly talented storyteller. "so there's a few things you should never do: don't look at the mirror and turn around at midnight. and if someone grabs your ankle when you're sleeping, don't look down. if you break these rules," he turned to the group of dancers. "a ghost will pop up!" dashing towards them with the form of a rogish halloween scare actor, he was met with the frightened squeals of the girls.

yn, whose interest in the paranormal had never been deep enough to scare her, grabbed mi na's hairbrush and hurled it towards heo yool. an action that encouraged the rest of the class to throw everything they had at hand, along with some despicable remarks and the teasing laugh of the insufferable rascal.

defeated by heo yool's stunts, the students decided they've had enough as one by one they exited the gym. 

"are you coming, yn?" so mi asked.

the girl nodded before answering, "i'll be there in a minute. i want to get some water first."

at the entrance, so mi and yn parted ways. she approached the water dispenser and took one of the cardboard cups provided by the machine. ever since the lights of the gymnasium had turned off, the girl noticed an unusual taste in her mouth that reminded her of her frightening fever dream at the elevator. she felt it at the back of her neck: something eerily creeping behind her at every given moment. was it possible that heo yool's story actually got under her skin? trying to brush off the uncanny sensation, yn took a sip from the refreshment in her hand.

"yn!" 

the call startled her, making the water get caught up in her throat. she coughed and patted her own chest as the liquid scraped its way down her larynx, like a tiny bug trying to escape a spider's web. once able to compose herself, yn glanced towards the voice.

"im so sorry!" joo won panicked in a stutter, "i didn't mean to do that, are you ok?"

"im fine." she wiped the water from her lips with her long sleeve. 

joo won and his companion standing behind, da bum, stared at her in silence.

"do you want anything or...?" 

a simultaneous no and a yes echoed trough the entrance, followed by a confused frown from the girl and whatever silent conversation the two guys were displaying with their eyes. 

"do you think maybe you could," joo won took his sweet time to mutter his next words, as if scared. "talk with kyung jun?"

"excuse me?"

what the fuck...? did kyung jun put them up to this?

"we just, well," the spokesman of the duo halted. "we gave some money to his friends a few days ago and we just don't want to bother them."

oh.

"so you bother me?" 

"no, no!" da bum spoke promptly and grabbed his friend's arm, pulling him along as he took a few steps to leave. "it's ok, yn. we won't bother you."

joo won released himself from da bum's grasp and walked towards yn. "please," he pleaded, holding one of her hands tightly with both of his. "he'll listen to you."

right as her heart started beating with enough sympathy to care for their situation, the front door opened. seung bin, jin ha and kyung jun walked into the building, the latter playing around with a basketball.

the three delinquents would've kept their saunter if it weren't for yn's presence, which made the group's top dog stop in his tracks. his companions did the same and all stared at the situation unfolding right in front of them. kyung jun's eyes stayed on the hands holding yn and after noticing his threatening glare, joo won leaped away from her.

"what's going on?" asked the fearful leader.

"you owe them money?" yn countered, her eyes flickering between the trio.

"what?" the blonde one laughed, brushing off the accusation. 

"they do!" joo won blamed, but instantly went back to his helpless self when met with the bullies' threatening scowls. "please, i just need it for my tuition."

the firm glare of the girl pierced through the tough act of the tamer vandal, making him drop his facade as he approached the feeble boy, closed fist in the air.

"fuck, man! we're on retreat, why are you asking us for money now?"

"yeah," seung bin joined in, defending his friend. "what are you, a loan shark? we told you we'd give you interests. give us some time, dipshit!"

kyung jun, who'd only taken the role of observer until that moment, put down the basketball he held and intervened to slap both of his lackeys' heads. "did you do sports betting again? huh?"

like scolded puppies, seung bin and jin ha faced the floor as they stepped aside.

"da bum," he called, and the guy lifted his head to stare at the bully. "did you lend them money too?"

"huh?" as kyung jun stalked closer, da bum's heart raced faster with every step. his eyes frantically scanned the room, desperately seeking any distraction from the intimidating figure slowly closing in on him. "yes. but i can wait for my money. there's no rush." with a lump in his throat, da bum braced himself for whatever was coming next.

"how much?" kyung jun's open hand grabbed the side of da bum's face, forcing the terrified boy to look right at him. "ill pay you back."

"you will?" da bum stuttered.

"of course," his grin turned into something sinister, which allowed only da bum to see because of their proximity. "in return play basketball with me, yeah?"

he faintly smacked his victim's face twice before coming up to yn. "everything's alright here, yn. see? no need for this." kyung jun reached out to hold her hand but she pulled away before any contact could be made. 

was she really so revolted by him she wouldn't even let him touch her? accepting his defeat, kyung jun hid his hands inside his jacket's pockets. 

"right," yn looked at da bum and joo won, who were currently being pushed around by the other two, before turning back to kyung jun. "in that case, i'll get going." 

"you're not coming with me?" just as yn started to walk away, his words pulled her back in.

"i'd rather not."

"are you sure?"

with a swift nod, kyung jun signaled seung bin and jin ha to go ahead and, bringing along the poor students they were about to torment, they disappeared down the hallway.

they were left alone, just like kyung jun liked it. only them, with nothing and no one around to interrupt their precious time together.

not a single second did he stop looking into her fiery eyes, which only seemed to hold a hostility that antagonized his own devoted regard.

"it's almost midnight."

both held each other's gaze, which kyung jun took as an invitation to step towards the girl. he stopped right in front of her and, unfortunately, yn's heart betrayed her mind as she internally screamed for it to cease its raising beats. 

kyung jun's hands raised to yn's face, completely forgetting her previous rejection. for a second, he thought of apologizing, since she'd made it clear time and time again how much she now despised his presence. but how could he apologize for something he was barely conscious of? he couldn't help himself, not when she was merely inches away, not with her. maybe if he insisted–if he didn't give up–she'd finally understand why staying apart was never the world's plan. 

"you promised me. remember?"

his hands were close. so close he could feel his fingertips grace her cheeks, a touch so minuscule, yet enough to make his skin crawl with anticipation. 

he was too close. 

yn stepped back just as she felt the fleeting spark. she would be dammed if she ever allowed him to touch her again, in more ways than one. or at least that's what she told herself as she fell right into another one of his tricks. kyung jun knew her well; too well for her liking. and with such measly words she found herself helplessly cornered by her own self-discipline and morals.

fucking bastard.

up in the vast dormitory area of the resort center, different groups of people were each caught up in their own conversations, without a single care in the world or the impending sinister feeling hanging over their heads like an invisible wrecking ball about to crash and destroy every single thing they ever cared for.

in her room, lee yoon seo was finally able to lose herself in her novel when her phone pinged. slightly annoyed by the distraction she took a closer look to her home screen, which displayed an app in process of downloading.

"i told you i didn't need this." she showed the screen to her roommate.

"it wasn't me." jung won answered, just as astounded.

our perspective changes and now we observe a group of various students, all gathered in one room. the class couple, the cheerleaders and members of the student council all sharing snacks and stories between them in perfect harmony until a knock interrupted. 

"come in!" allowed the vice president.

"hey guys," the door opened, reavealing hyun ho accompanied by his best friend, dong hyun, who stayed on the hallway behind him. "has anyone seen yn?"

"how come you don't know? you're always following her." mocked woo ram before taking a handful of chips from one of the various bags scattered around the room.

"you're one to talk." ji soo muttered, which provoked woo ram to throw a scrambled napkin her way.

"i'm serious." hyun ho replied, "i've tried texting her but this wifi doesn't even work."

"she told me she was going to get some water, isn't she downstairs?" just as so mi finished her sentence, one by one every phone in the room chimed.

notifications spread throughout the resort like a 14th century pandemic, resonating around every room as if imitating the never ending bells that announced the beginning of the end.

back in the gymnasium, joo won stood shaking below the basketball hoop with his friend by his side, eyes shut tight as neither dared watch the nearing hit from the ball.

"joo won, stay right there." kyung jun sneered as he prepared himself to throw. he looked up, targeting the net as he bent his knees, faked a jump, and sent the ball right into the boy's stomach.

joo won kneeled in pain, groaning and grasping his abdomen with both hands in his best attempt to soothe the aching sensation puncturing his body.

yn watched the situation unfold as she sat on the rubber gym flooring, otherwise cold if it weren't for seung bin's zip-up laid out below her. it had been kyung jun who'd instructed the blondie to give up his hoodie, since yn declined on taking his own. not a single word was heard from the girl ever since stepping into the gym as the trio took turns tormenting their two victims, until now.

"i didn't come here for this, kyung jun."

almost ten minutes had passed and she was still waiting for kyung jun to approach her and start the conversation he so adamantly pushed onto her.

"c'mon yn, let me give it one more shot."

he must've lost his fucking mind, thinking he had her wrapped around his finger to waste her time in such a way. fed up, yn got up and snatched the basketball out of his hands before throwing it away. it rolled towards jin ha, who immediately picked it up to quite the sound of the bouncing that only seemed to raise the tension of the ex-lovers' quarrel.

yn opened her mouth to give kyung jun an ultimatum, a last opportunity out of her remaining patience, when a sudden ding emitted out of her skirt's pocket. she would've payed no mind to it if it weren't for the other five identical sounds that propagated right after.

each person in the room took out their phones and faced their screens, which displayed a virtual envelope eagerly waiting to be opened. 

TAP TO VIEW YOU ROLE, read the text below.

"wasn't this the resort's app?" asked jin ha, to nobody in particular.

resort's app? 

she never knew about any app.

"mafia?" seung bin laughed from his spot at the floor and showed his screen. "what's this about?"

"what the fuck is this?" kyung jun mumbled with a frown, clearly confused.

yn brought one hand to the back of her neck as the abnormal sensation from minutes ago reappeared. goosebumps started breaking out throughout her skin and every cell on her body seemed to tremble uncontrollably while she stared at the little black mirror on her hand. which, as she would soon find out, reflected the last version of herself with any shred of purity.

🏷️ @flaneurpastel - @jwijii - @watamotee33

© to @divineei on tumblr; do not repost or steal

[kittenfangirl20]

Serial killer x FBI Agent Au

Adam was a newly so FBI agent and one of his crime scenes were very brutal. Training doesn't prepare you for the smell.

Lute: I think it's him again.

Adam: Him who?

Lute: A serial killer who goes by The Devil due to the brutal nature of his crimes. No one knows what he looks like.

Little did they know, The Devil was watching their every move.

*Adam looked through the records of this man they called the Devil with interest, he mainly went after corrupt figures who escaped the law, he saw that the heart was cut out of the body, he had to be impressed with how precise this killer was*

Adam: How long has this Devil been killing?

Lute: At least five years as far as I can tell.

*Lucifer stood outside the home of his latest victim and he saw the new FBI Agent, the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his life, short brown hair that made him think of milk chocolate, honey brown eyes, a little goatee on his chin, and even his chubby little gut made him extremely attractive, he took a picture of the man and decided to look him up, a couple days later Adam walked into the apartment that he stayed in ever since he finished training and saw a box wrapped in black with a gold ribbon, there was a nice card that said “You have stolen my heart” under it was written “To FBI Agent Adam Kadmon from the Devil,” sadly it was all types out so they couldn’t compare writing, Adam used a knife to open the box and saw a human human heart in the box, Adam quickly grabbed his phone and called his boss Sera*

Sera: Agent Kadmon?

Adam: I got a fucking gift from someone claiming to be the Devil, it is a human heart. I bet if we did a DNA analysis it would end up being the heart of our recent victim.

Sera: Don’t touch it, we need to see if what you said was true and if we can get DNA samples off of it.

*once they got the box with the heart out of the apartment, Adam could rest easier, after having a rib dinner Adam went to bed, in the morning Adam woke up to see his old watch was replaced with a very new and very expensive watch, all of his shampoo and other personal care items were replaced with very expensive products that were made for his hair type and skin type, the bathroom mirror had a heart painted in blood and the words Agent Kadmon + the Devil written in blood on it*

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

Here's my thing not to always be complaining about bad interpretations BUT I genuinely do not understand how anyone at all can see the scene that established the Kraken where Ed is subjected to abuse by his father and then kills him, and then see a character attempt to force Ed to kill the first person hes ever gotten close to, attempt to kill the first person Ed has ever gotten close to, call law enforcement to come in and kill the first person Ed has ever gotten close to, and then when he succeeds in driving that person away and Ed tries to open up to even more people tell him he's better off dead and threaten his life. And then see Ed choke that character with a lighthouse painting positioned in the background just like how he choked his dad with a lighthouse in the background and declare himself the kraken like he did when he was talking about his abusive fathers death and not read all that information as leading back to Izzy abusing him. Like season 1 actually sends a very clear message if you're not into incel apologia.

And yes I have seen season 2, season 2 did three things in regards to this arc. The first thing it did was call the relationship toxic and unhealthy which affirms this reading, the second thing season 2 did was clarify that Izzy's intentions in doing all this were in fact to have Ed all to himself out of a psychosexual obsession rather than out of a hunger for power or even as a hate crime or whatever, so those are Izzy's two "this only looks like abuse but actually is about something else" alibis down, which reaffirms this reading, and the third thing it did was have Izzy take it all back and decide he's actually better now which, the redemption arc doesn't contradict any of that. And no I'm not ignoring Ed's violence against Izzy, he did all of that violence fully after four times trying to isolate Ed violently from other people and I think it's acceptable to kill your abuser, so Ed's violence doesn't factor into my read aside from how it relates to how he handled his first abuser, his father, and how he handled his second abuser, Hornigold, in the dream scape.

So basically last time I made this meta I said "guys I think Izzy might be abusing Ed, but Idk he could just be power hungry as fucked up little henchmen often are." But now that I have season 2 I'm rewriting it and saying that I know that Izzy is one of Ed's abusers, so thank you season 2 for clarifying this for me. He changed his mind and, well all I have to say about that is that I hope Ed feels safer now that he has changed his mind, but I still don't much care for him.

If you comment on this to argue with me without adding a 🦜emoji I'll assume you haven't read the whole thing before getting mad at me and delete your reply.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Violent Delights Have Violent Ends - Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

WC: 1.8k

TW: Serial killers, murders, blood, referencing to infidelity, descriptions of dead bodies, bugs

A/N: Enjoy part 2 babes!!!!

Part 1

The worst part about a crime scene was not seeing the dead bodies, it was smelling them as soon as you entered the house. However, seeing them was not exactly great either. 

This would have been much better advice than Derek telling you seeing a dead body for the first time can be a bit freaky. 

You don’t really know why you agreed to go to the crime scene, but God did you fucking regret it now. Your eyes were starting to water and your hands were ever so slightly shaking. It was clear to you that all the profilers around you knew what you felt. Even if you were hard to read, they would have known just by the way you stopped talking. 

Hotch gently put his hand on your arm, causing you to jump slightly and give him a small smile. He led you both to the kitchen to sit down for a moment, giving you a moment away from the whole scene. 

Looking at the pictures was so different than seeing it in person. Someone actually dipped their hand in the neck of someone else and wrote on the wall in their blood. And they were cold and calculated enough to put gloves on first so there was no DNA left behind. Fucking psychopath. 

“Y/n?” 

You looked up from your hands and let out a curt laugh when a tear fell down your cheek. “Shit. Sorry.” Quickly wiping it away, you looked back down at your hands. “Sorry, I just….”

“It’s a lot.” 

“Why–why do you need me here Hotch.”

He nodded and looked back at the living room. “Because we have a feeling the way he’s positioning the bodies might help us figure something else out, and you are our resident expert.” 

“Don’t let Reid hear you say that. He might just have an aneurysm.” You muttered, a small smile on your face. 

It got Hotch to smile in response. “He knows that you know more about this than him. Don’t worry. Can you get back in there or would you like us to take pictures and send them to you?” 

You shook your head and stood up. “I’m fine. Just an initial shock I guess. Thank you, Hotch.” 

The two of you walked back into the living room, and you were still grateful that you decided to forgo lunch, not giving your stomach any ammo in case it decided to evacuate your body. 

The scene was gruesome. The wife’s body was lying on the floor in front of the fireplace arms above her head as if she was lifting something. Her blonde hair had been stained red, almost purposefully with blood, and braided into two long braids that came down the front of her chest. The only indication of any blood on her body, besides the gaping wound on her neck, was that the palms of her hands were coated in now-dried blood. 

“It’s um.” You closed your eyes for a second. “It’s John Singer Sargent.” 

“The famous painter?” Spencer turned to look at you from across the room where he had been talking to Prentiss. 

You nodded. “His, uh. Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth, where she um, lifts the crown onto her head…It’s massive, like seven feet tall, four feet wide, at the Tate Britain in London.” 

“What does this have to do with her.” Derek gestured to the corpse on the floor. Spencer, who noted that you really couldn’t take your eyes off of the body, pulled out his phone and quickly found the painting you were referencing. 

“Oh wow,” Morgan muttered. “He even dressed her in the same shade of green…”

“It’s one of the most famous portrayals of Lady Macbeth out there. Her dress was decorated with….” Your eyes widened. 

“With what.” Hotch walked over to you and looked between you and the body, and then over to Spencer. “What was her dress decorated with.” 

Spencer quickly made his way over to you and kneeled next to the wife. “Oh my god.” 

“Will someone tell me what’s going on?” Derek crossed his arms, unamused by the lack of information being spread around. 

“Beetles. Ellen Terry’s dress was decorated with the wings of beetles.” You spoke up.  _________________________________________________________

Spencer had volunteered to drive you back to the station so that you could look at the actual bodies of the previous victims to see if you could find more details that they had missed. 

“This one, Spencer, she’s uh…” You bit your lip, looking at the first set of victims. “This was the Romeo and Juliet one right? Because she’s draped on top of him like every production and painting of Romeo and Juliet I’ve ever seen. If we have to go specifics then I would say probably “The Reconciliation of the Montagues and Capulets” by Leighton. And the um…” You placed that image down and hunted for another one. 

“And this one is the Hamlet one since she’s positioned exactly like Ophelia in Sir John Everett Milais’ painting. The Pre-Raphelite one with all the flowers. Look at the sheet the unsub placed her on, it’s completely floral, and did the autopsy come back saying she had drowned, or was drowned and then resuscitated or something?” 

Spencer nodded. He was honestly in awe of you. The way you reset your head when you left the crime scene. The urgency you had developed. The sheer breadth of knowledge you possessed just continued to make him fall head first for you. Not that he could ever do anything about it since you lived in London half of the time, and he was always traveling around the US with no sort of set schedule. 

“And…uh, where is it.” 

“What are you looking for?” 

“The one with the, uh, um. What the fuck was that guy’s name?” 

Spencer looked at you with a furrowed brow. “Are you talking about Caesar?” 

“YES. God. I always forget his name. Portia. She swallowed hot coals to kill herself right? But in the picture…” You pulled the photo out of the depths of the pile. “There’s a wound on the wife’s leg. Her cause of death was bleeding out, right? With the way she’s draped on the bed, and her husband is in the other room, it’s not the show. I think it’s the baroque piece of Portia by, uh, um…oh shit what was her name….” 

Watching you work literally made Spencer’s heart want to bleed. He would actually propose to you on the spot if it wasn’t an extremely insensitive time to do so, and also you weren’t even dating. It was baffling to him that he had only known you for three days.

“Elisabetta Sirani!” You pulled out your phone and looked up the picture, and lo and behold, it matched the body. 

“I think that it’s an art student, or someone heavily involved in art. Some of these are famous paintings, sure, but others? There’s a history there Spence. I only know these paintings because of my Ph.D. Sirani is not as common an artist as she should be.”

He sputtered at the nickname but quickly recovered. “I’ll call Hotch and let him know.” 

You smiled at him and he smiled right back at you. 

There was too long of a pause. It shouldn’t have happened at all really. But the sheriff knocked on the door, misinterpreting the stare for something more aggressive. “I don’t mean to break up whatever yelling session is about to happen, but the autopsy report came back…those were real wings.”

You looked back over at Spencer. “Tell him to get the team back. You guys need to give the profile.”  _____________________________________________________________

“I just don’t understand where someone even gets that many beetle wings. It’s not like you can order them online and have them shipped to your house.” 

“That tells you how premeditated this was then.” 

“Woman, where have you been all our lives.” 

You laughed and Derek smiled over at you. 

“No, seriously Y/n. I never thought Art history could be so…”

“Violent?” You guessed, smirking slightly and shaking her head. “There’s a painting I think yo should look up Derek. Well a few of them—Saturn Devouring His Son by Goya is a favorite of mine, and then Judith Beheading Holofernes by Virmiglio has a shit ton of blood in it…or if you want some heartbreak, I am personally fond of Caleron’s Broken Vows, or anything portraying the Kiss of Franchesca and Paulo.” 

“I just don’t get how you can store all of this in your head.” Derek pulled up to the college campus and flashed his badge at the campus security, who let him through the gate. 

“Well, I don’t know how to take apart a gun, and then put it back together, let alone fire it. We all have our different skills.” 

This caused Derek to laugh. “Touche.” 

The two of you pulled up to the building with the offices of the Art History faculty and looked around the campus. “This is a massive campus, Derek. I’m pretty sure they have an MA and a Ph.D. in Art History beyond undergrad…”

“Believe it or not, this is not our first murderous college student case.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Great. It’s good to know the youth of America are doing alright.” 

That caused Derek to crack a smile. “Well. Let’s go find this professor and see what we can find out.”  

The trek across campus brought you back to your college days. It was kind of nice to see that kids still hung out on the lawns and with one another, not just staring at their phones and laptops all of the time. 

The both of you made your way up to the stairs of this slightly blocky building. It felt a bit like a museum with the amount of artifacts that they kept on the first and second floors, but as you walked through the fifth floor offices, your face started to fall. 

“Derek what was the name of the professor we were supposed to talk to?” You whispered, slowly moving to a stop. 

He turned and looked at you. “uh…Doctor Kolek, why?” 

You pointed to the door you stopped in front of. 

It was slightly ajar and looked as if the lock had been busted. Morgan quickly, pulled out his gun and shoved you behind him, calling out the woman’s name as you both held your breath. 

When there was no response, Derek slowly pushed the door open. Her office was a wreck, as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. Papers were scattered, there were frames on the floor, and a dent in the wall as if someone had tried to throw something at someone. You called out the woman’s name again, only to gasp. Derek turned and faced the same way you were looking. 

Doctor Kolek was face down on the floor. There was no blood around her, and the room didn’t smell like death, so that was a good sign, but she was clearly unconscious. Derek quickly rolled her over and checked for her vitals. 

“She’s still breathing. Call a medic.” 

You scrambled to pull out your phone, dialing 911.