#post-mortem-lullabies

[muses-inn]

@post-mortem-lullabies / meme // Emil meets Isaac?

"When is the last time you showered or changed clothes?"

🔧— Right. So, the problem with answering that starts with Isaac having no idea how long he has been in that cryo pod he woke up from. (Or who even put him in there, but he suspects it was Carver).

He woke up alone and had spent a few long days afterwards with getting out of that underground facility, stumbling around and trying to figure out what had happened. He is glad to have found a small town with a rather run-down looking bar where he could sit down for a bit to think. Or, trying to think.

Admittedly, he's not really much wiser since and his tab continues to grow with every ordered drink. But at least he hasn't seen any marker signs so far, and that's great already. (Now he just had to worry about getting money and paying his tab.)

He hasn't really seen any familiar faces yet. That is probably not that surprising if he spent a great while hidden away and sleeping inside a damn cryo pod.

What Isaac does know, even if just vaguely, that he hadn't had time to refresh himself for a good while already BEFORE someone just stuffed him into that pod.

It's not looking good here on his end as far as his defense about washing or changing clothes go. It doesn't help that his priorities have been all over the place these days. Hygienics obviously weren't among them. And sleep, not so much either.

Isaac clears his throat and closes the messy statistics on the holo screen he had in front of him before he turns around from the rusty bar stool he sits on. Not even sure what to say in his defense, he's just uttering his very sheepish and awkward response. His voice gives it away that he's tired, exhausted... and a little drunk, maybe.

"Is it that bad already?"

[qatakami]

@post-mortem-lullabies :

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒 || accepting || [ 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 ] ― sender puts on the radio to listen to music with receiver

♪ ' - and you may look the other way We can try to understand The New York Times' effect on man- ' ♬

'' Huh? '' Could it be?

The element of surprise burst forth unexpectedly, like a jack-in-the-box springing from its confines with a startling pop. In that singular, suspended moment between astonishment and realization, the world seemed to shimmer with vibrant new possibilities. For resident near one particular balcony, the universe had conspired to deliver a marvelous plot twist in a way of jolting one out of the mundane routines of everyday existence, inviting a sudden shift in perspective that casts everything in a thrilling new light. And for the traveler from another world, the sheer spontaneity of it was all invigorating, like an unexpected splash of cool water on a sweltering day, refreshing the senses and awakening the spirit to the marvels that lurk just beyond the horizon of the ordinary. Music was not just a backdrop to life; it was a bridge, a way to connect with others. Detected lyrics left Nimaya reeling with awe as they wafted through the air and with each swelling beat, it seemed harder to fight off the urge to follow one's own curiosity. The soft glow of the evening sun casting a warm hue over the city, enough time for feet turn South-ward to follow and follow ... [ ... ]

---

At the very middle notes of the song the perceiver arrived certainly to a peculiar scene ... for the unknown visitor did not plan to make his presence known ( not like most humans could see a Shinigami ). Perching momentarily at the edge of the balcony the Reaper stretched himself cat-like leisurely closer to the stereo, rolling down, back shifting slightly against the coolness of the floor beneath, and melodic humming being the only additional noise resonating from him all along.

[everdaring]

@post-mortem-lullabies said: ❛ you look like you could use a hand with that. ❜

Her gaze shoots up from the hogtied human shape at her feet, towards the source of the voice. Damn it. A curious passer-by getting a little too nosey? She would have hoped no one would notice her in the narrow side alley anyway...

So much for that.

The tension leaves her body a little, as she notices something... familiar about the other. A scent? No, not exactly. Perhaps simply a way the stranger carried themselves, something about their presence, their appearance...?

A child of the sea; in one way or another. A familiar state of existence. A being similar to her.

And so, still frowning, the mermaid tilts her head, beholding the stranger.

The man at her feet lets out a sound and she is quick to silence him with a nudge of her foot.

" Got a little too pushy, this one, " she remarks with a shrug. She obviously had to teach him a lesson.

" Now, you will not go running off to the Marines about this, surely? " the Spark chirps, her voice sweet as honey, though a vague threat can be detected within.

first meeting sentence starters

[despairforme]

"Do you want to build a snowman?" Emil hummed at Nnoitra. She doubted he would go for that alone, without further prompting. "A huge ass one that only you can move." // you're the sweetheart here, Toby <5

"Do you want to build a snowman?" Ugh. Fucking NO! Playing in the snow? Getting cold? He fucking hated snow. Hated the cold. Hated having his fingers get pink and stiff. Hated feeling the scratch in his throat from the cold air. Yeah, they'd had snow yesterday, and now everything was covered in a decent layer of white. It made everything look so wintery, and made him feel like spring was two hundred fucking thousand days away.

So NO, he did NOT want to fucking build a----

THAT ONLY YOU CAN MOVE.

His "fuck no"-expression changed instantly into a "fuck yes"-expression. Grin wide. Oh, that snowman was going to get enormous! One so big it would make any other snowman look like a fucking pussy as bitch. People were going to wonder if they'd used a machine to lift the snowballs on top of each other.

❝ Hell fuckin' YEAH, let's do it! ❞

/ @post-mortem-lullabies

[muses-inn-a]

@post-mortem-lullabies / meme “i brought you a blanket.”

[💽]  "I don't need it." The response comes right away, as per usual. And the tone of Murderbot's voice is monotonous, just like its expression. However, it spent milliseconds contemplating and mulling over its response to that offering before it responded.

Why do humans always feel the need to offer blankets to each other? Okay, that's a stupid question. Humans need to maintain their body temperature and some of them feel cold very quickly. So they need blankets to stay warm. The actual and more accurate question here is, why would a human feel the need to offer a blanket to a relatively functional SecUnit?

"Constructs maintain their own body-temperature." Murderbot adds, just to make sure she understands that. Even though, you know, it currently sits all huddled up on that control chair, looking like a human that is uncomfortable and cold. And uncomfortable it is. But, it has been mostly busy sorting through newly acquired media and deciding which one to start, so it would feel a little less miserable for a couple of hours. If it wouldn't get disturbed by something every damn minute.

Murderbot still just stares at the wall while actually watching Emil through one of its shitty drones. She is still standing there, but at least she can't really see it. It's a little less bad than having a human standing there that just stares at it. But her presence is still awkward. "Do you need something?"

[scnkei]

"Rumor Has It... That you like chocolate covered cherries." Dangling her feet over the edge of the building, Emil held up a box of homemade cherry kisses.

There was no such rumor; Emil was simply bored and happened to make some cherry sweets the other day.

// Emil attempting to feed more of Toby's muses?

"Rumor Has It..." meme ,,

A box of what he assumed were chocolate covered cherries was held up towards him. Byakuya made no move to take the box. She was sitting down, and if he was to reach, he would have to bend down. Naturally, Kuchiki Byakuya did not bow his head so easily. If she wished to present him with something, she would have to stand. The box didn't look official, so it was not a bought gift. Perhaps something homemade? Maybe she'd already helped herself to a few from the box? Byakuya would not share his food with commoners.

Then, there was the fact that this "rumour" was completely false.

Byakuya didn't like sweets.

❝ I do not care for them, no. ❞ Perhaps if the cherries were of the very sour type, and the chocolate a dark one, he could appreciate the treat. He liked bitter flavours ( but his favorite was spice ). / @post-mortem-lullabies .

[muses-inn]

💽 — It seems more than very likely now that someone was, or even IS illegally searching for alien remnants here, while doing a bad job in covering their diggings up.

Maybe no one is IN this cave, but that doesn't mean they're not just potentially somewhere else on this planet.

But, with how much stuff that is still scattered around here, maybe they're looking at a site where two parties digged for 'treasures' once, with one having left in a hurry for some reasons and the other had just given up eventually. Some of those things look fairly old and outdated, which seems odd to Murderbot.

Either way, taking control over this site's (also outdated) SecSys doesn't take it too long. The system is easily convinced that Murderbot is part of its system and equipment. What's mainly bothersome to Murderbot in this is though, that the system seems very familiar with SecUnits. A little too much for its liking.

It sends one drone back up, to keep an eye on the entrance. There are very likely multiple ways in and out, judging by the size of this cave, but that way it will be warned if someone enters through the same way they did. If the alerts are still active and working, there is a good chance someone is still around to receive it. And Murderbot had enough unwelcome surprises for one day.

Acting too openly as this party's security (whichis is basically its entire purpose) is clearly a waste of Murderbot's time too, so it decides to keep an eye on things a little more passively. Maybe that will be more effective than trying to vocalize what its risk assessment suggests, which clearly no one here listens to, anyway.

The door opens with a hiss as the local SecSys grants them entry. Through all this time, Murderbot has not once taken a look at Emil or B0-R other than indirectly through its still present drone still hovering over the group.

Judging by SecSys' response, I'm not the only SecUnit that's active on this Planet.

It doesn't say it out loud in the feed, but the 'make of that what you will' is amost palpable. It also doesn't exactly require Rocket Science knowledge to get a feel of Murderbot's displeasure about that. Because that means potentially more trouble than what it wanted to deal with here.

It then simply strides ahead without a 'wait here' or 'let m go first'. It just goes, no matter whether Emil likes that or not, which is irrelevant to Murderbot at this point anyway.

@post-mortem-lullabies

Emil was in a separate channel with B-0R when Placeholder graciously pinged her to... Warn her? That it was approaching? It was almost funny how late it was and considering both her drones and B0-R were updating everyone's - Placeholder's included - positions on the shared map.

She just made a note to self that Placeholder would rush to her if she as much as implied to do something moronic to stop her (unlikely from worry for her, more likely from 'don't make my job harder than it already is, you random human'), when an alarm went off.

Just as it glared at her, Emil gave it a 'you had one job' look. B-0R sent her an diagnostic what had happened and Emil forwarded it to Placeholder: one of the drones flew past a light marker that, lit up, granted, but with a whole ass ad for hemorrhoid cure, triggering an activity detector.

You might still want to hack the system.

Could SecUnits even hack? Emil had heard fables about them being bloodthirsty murder machines, but they weren't known for their hacking skills. She would need to add it to the 'Rogue' database with an asterisk to check against movies about SecUnits (she could recall at least one episode where heroic Security System was attempting to turn off a berserk SecUnit while it destroyed its databases).

With how quiet it is in there, there could be no one TO alert.

B0-R's report showed the dust and rubble was thick enough no one had disturbed it in at least three weeks, though there was likely another exit somewhere else. And it was better to be the one in control of the door if someone WAS going to check.

[lured-into-wonderland]

This just startles her... "

Are you sure?"

@post-mortem-lullabies

[nomadic-novelist]

"Emil! Emil! Help!" Orion screamed as soon as he passed the port entrance. His pack bounced on his back. Tishy bounced around him, quicker than he could ever dream to be. Bouncers were catching up and he was running out of breath.

He took a corner, slipped and hit a stack of crates. "Emil!" He screamed into the air, scratching his throat and pushed away, running down the dock, toward Caramel with her yellow jolly roger flapping lazily.

Please be home. Please be home. Please be home!

He prayed with each step, the angry shouts behind him growing louder too.

"Emil!" He cried out of relief, spotting her onboard, moving about the sails. "Help!" With the last shout, he jumped onto Caramel, slipped and landed on his butt, propped up only by his bag; Tishy, instead, gracefully landing beside him. "Please!"

@post-mortem-lullabies

[mosraev]

Lyrics through the decade 4/10

I've decided to collect all the songs I've made through the last decade and share my favourite snippets with you guys. The pictures for the backgrounds will (as much as possible) be pictures I've taken the same year as the lyrics were written. The full lyrics may or may not be made official someday.

Part 4; 2016

For some reason I wrote a lot about death and mortality together with the smallest things in life such as getting pissed about social media, having trouble giving a compliment and being a over-the-top fanperson. So yeah this one will be a rollercoaster.

More info under the line

Stay creative, my fellow foxes 🦊💚

Song 1 (pic1); Faith

I wrote this song after learning about a terrorist attack in Tyrkey happening on Easter sunday so it plays a lot on the morality across religion and looking at the world with bitterness but also a bit of hope that things might be better (how naive thinking about what happened in 2022)

Featured lyric:

((Extended)) Go for trust and go pray on this sad, holy day

Who are you praying to?

It might affect if you'll see another day.

Song 2 (pic2); Scarred

A song about mortality and being a flawed human being. Building a lot on the 'digging your own grave' metaphor and other 'wow, you're a deadbeat person' sayings. Btw, this was when I was studying something I ended up learning was not for me so I guess I dealt with not feeling good enough through writing.

Featured lyric:

((Extended)) You can’t reach me, I’m lost at sea

In a ship that’s slowly sinking.

I’m digging my own grave,

But happen to pull myself out again.

I’m a trainwreck but I’m alive.

Song 3 (pic3); The Fan Song

And now we have the other side of the coin for 2016 - Silly songs and/or songs about the little things. This is a song I wrote in jest describing the experience of being a fan of something. Little did I know this feeling shown in the featured lyric would have a name one day (parasocial relationships) x'D

Featured lyric: You’re my closest friend,

My first real lover.

I know everything about your life, but we haven’t met each other.

Honorable mention;

I don’t know why I’m screaming in your face,

I guess it is all too much to take in.

Song 4 (pic4); Vulpes Mortem (Don't Cry for the Fox)

Now, why did I write a song about a dying fox framed in religious undertones by playing a folkish 6/8 melody? Because I dang well could x'D no, I am not kidding that is the whole reason :'D Fun fact: I've recorded this song with help from an impro choir and flute. When I get to it it'll be back on soundcloud.

Featured lyric: Don't cry for the fox, little one

She made peace with her death.

Song 5 (pic5); Beautiful

Honestly, one of my favourite little songs because it is so pure in its story and intention. It is basically about giving compliments to strangers and how honestly terrifying it can be.

Featured lyric: Hey, is it strange that I think you're beautiful?

Song 6 (pic6); My Own Worst Enemy

We're back to me having a minor crisis about my place in life (it might show even better than Scarred how I just didn't feel like I belonged at this study at university or in life in general). I never finished this so it is mostly just a very existential poem at this point.

Featured lyric: I guess it’s only me holding me down.

Keeps my feet on the ground,

puts extra weight on my shoulders, so I can’t fly.

((Extended)) I’m my own worst enemy.

Song 7 (pic7); Lullabye for the Universe

This is actually a rewrite of a song I made the year prior called Luna and it is about two lovers in a long distance relationship. I really enjoyed the pictures created in this song yet I am still not really impressed with the melody so it is on hold for now.

Featured lyric: Can you sing me a lullaby from the other end of the universe

While I’m waiting for the sun to rise?

Song 8 (pic8); Doll

Another very existential or maybe even more so a self concious poem that never fully made it into song status. I was speaking a lot about how wrong I felt yet how I didn't do anything about the feeling of wrong - the featured lyric also show my people pleasing tendencies.

Featured lyric: Pretty little agony, give until you break.

Your love is so cheap it’s on sale.

[alternate-inn]

💍 Emil's response elicits a soft chuckle from Yuuta in turn for how familiar he is with trouble finding him wherever he goes. Rika is currently curled up on top of the old hut's roof, but she is watching over them with an intensity that would frighten others. Yuuta has not just grown used to it, he even appreciates her presence now. And he knows that Emil is among the few people to feel her presence, but she's not being scared of her. Also, Rika is aware by now that Emil is not 'into Yuuta' and doesn't have to be jealous. (That doesn't stop her from watching her closely anyway, though).

"Heh. Well, I'm sure they deserved it. A shame for the pie, though."

As Emil hands out a lunch box, Yuuta pauses from his work and happily accepts it. He could never say no to her tasty lunches, but it would feel wrong to just take it for granted.

"Thank you, Emil. But you know you don't need to bring me lunch every time you come here, right? You're always welcome here to just relax if things get a little heated over there."

Yuuta studies the box a moment and his smile falters a little. He is aware that Rika watches him now more intensely than before, she is knowing too well that something is up. And Emil might be very well aware too. She might not see with her eyes, but he knows that she senses a lot of things.

"I'm sorry, I just... it's nothing, really. I'll finish sorting out the scallops here, why don't you go inside the hut already and make yourself comfortable? I'll be with you in a few minutes."

She 'watched' him sort through his catch long before she reached Yuuta's hut. Following a narrow path, she sensed the movements of his hands as he worked... Was it because her father had been a fisherman? Was it why she could sometimes spend hours following fishermen work? Then again, she liked to 'observe' most crafters at their work...

Yuuta's question brought her out of this musing and she snorted.

"Me? In trouble?" Of course she had, it wouldn't have been fun otherwise. "I don't get in trouble; it's trouble that finds me!"

She swung her backpack off her back and plopped it on the grass. As she crouched to open it, Bor - in his tiny, sparrow form - floated from the top of her head onto her shoulder.

"I might have thrown a pie at some important person's face." She pulled one of multiple lunch boxes from within her backpack and handed it over to Yuuta.

[sarcasticmercy]

@post-mortem-lullabies liked for an AU

The sun was setting as he made it into town, streets mostly quiet as people finished making their way home- or to the saloon. He would need supplies, but that could wait until tomorrow- would have to wait until tomorrow. For now, it was time to hitch his horse, enter the saloon. He could figure out where he was staying... Eventually. More pressing was a meal, as he found a seat and pulled the bandanna down from his face- before realizing there was already someone else at the table he had chosen. "... Was this seat taken?"

[wanderingarcherviola]

Send 🤍 and my muse will answer: // for Emil :D

Send 🤍 and my muse will answer:

I encourage adding your own answers; have fun!

Do they know your muse?

[ ✓] yes

[ ] no

[ ] never seen them in my life (true)

[ ] never seen them in my life (lie)

[ ] kinda? we talked a couple of times

[ ] they are literally me

[ ] they are my better half!

[ ] I do and I wish I didn't

Would they hug your muse?

[ ] yes

[ ] no

[ ✓] come to my blanket fort!

[ ] wouldn't even touch them with a stick

[ ] yes, but only to stick something to their back

{✓} Immense bear hug and cuddling!!!

Would they kiss your muse?

[✓ ] yes

[ ] no

[ ] sure, why not?

[ ✓] only on the cheek

[ ] we are already making out

[ ] not in your wildest dreams!

{✓} *Smooch smooch smooch smooch smooch*

Would they drive at 2am to help your muse out?

[✓ ] yes

[ ] no

[✓ ] this better not be another dead body to bury!

[ ✓] I'm already on my way! without even getting properly dressed!

[ ] I wouldn't even pick up the phone

[ ] I would, but only to laugh in their face instead

{✓} whatever that did, I'm the alibi.

Sleepover?

[ ✓] yes

[ ] no

[ ] we already live together

[ ] not even if it was the last place to sleep in the world

[ ✓] yes! and I have a whole party planned!

[ ✓] yes and I intend to keep them awake ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) because I won't stop pestering them with random ninsense

Is your muse good looking?

[ ✓] yes

[ ] no

[ ] they are okay

[ ✓] they are the most glorious being my eyes had ever beheld!

[ ] they are the most hideous being my eyes had ever beheld!

[ ✓] I would tap that

[ ] they are 'do I really have to?' looking

Are they attracted to your muse?

[✓ ] yes

[ ] no

[ ] sexually

[ ] romantically

[ ] sensually

[ ] platonically

[ ] aesthetically

[ ] I'm repelled by them

{✓} if we're both still single by 30 I'm proposing.

Would they hurt your muse?

[ ] yes

[ ] no

[ ] give me an axe!

[ ] don't even ask that!

[ ] I already am

[✓ ] If anything happened to them, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.

[ ] meh

[ ] I'd like to but I don't think I physically can

{✓} would sooner gnaw off my own fingers

@post-mortem-lullabies

[holydracii]

”playing dangerous - spencer reid”

who?: spencer x unsub!reader

content warning!: mention of murder, normal cm stuff, crime scene photos, kinda mentions reader is petite but it really just a vibe! (also first post in awhile be nice)

w/c: 1.1k

summary: A brilliant girl with a spotless past is suspected of five brutal murders. But when Dr. Spencer Reid steps in, the interrogation turns into a deadly game of minds.

Interrogation Room B | Quantico, Virginia

It had been nearly four hours. The cold metal chair beneath you had long since lost any semblance of comfort, and the fluorescent light above hummed with an unrelenting flicker that could drive anyone to madness — if they weren’t already there.

Two officers had tried to break you. One slammed the table. The other tried to guilt you. Neither worked.

You played the part perfectly: wide-eyed, soft-spoken, demure. The girl who never got detention. The girl who brought cupcakes to school and volunteered at animal shelters. The girl who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But that girl? She didn’t exist.

The murders were messy. James Widec, Gary Bowe, Hardin Ross, Eric Mout, and Zachary Gubler. All fit, all former athletes, all with suspiciously sealed university records and bruised egos to match. The details were gruesome. Precise. Someone had wanted them to hurt — emotionally, psychologically, physically — and someone had made damn sure they did.

The BAU’s profile had been clean. Logical. A male unsub, probably mid-30s, with a violent record, no clear empathy, and definite antisocial tendencies.

That didn’t fit you. Not on paper.

No priors. No psychiatric red flags. GPA of 4.2. Varsity swim. Homecoming court. Perfect.

But all signs pointed here. To you. And now, finally, he walked in.

You knew who he was the second the door opened.

Doctor Spencer Reid.

The genius. The profiler. The prodigy with the mismatched cardigans and the thousand-yard stare. The one who solved impossible puzzles and recited obscure statistics like they were lullabies.

You watched him as he entered, slow and thoughtful, a man who noticed everything. His lips were pursed, brows drawn slightly in thought. His posture was stiff, but not unfriendly — like he wasn’t sure whether to approach you as a criminal, a puzzle, or maybe... something else entirely.

He sat across from you with a quiet sort of control. His eyes were steady. Observant. He didn’t speak immediately. He didn’t need to.

You smiled, tilted your head ever so slightly, and spoke first. “You can ask me anything you want,” you said sweetly. “Anything?”

Spencer studied you. Not your words — your cadence. Your breathing. Your lack of tension. You weren’t nervous. You weren’t lying badly. You weren’t lying at all.

You were performing.

“I’ll be taking over the questioning from now on,” he said simply, sliding a stack of crime scene photos onto the table like a dealer laying down cards. Your victims stared back at you in full color — mouths open, limbs bent in awkward, post-mortem shapes.

But you didn’t look. You looked at him.

Straight into those hazel eyes.

His voice was calm when he began. “You’re nineteen years old. No criminal record. You’re academically gifted, socially integrated, and by all accounts — emotionally stable. So why are you sitting in this chair?”

“Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer,” you said softly, the corner of your mouth turning up just enough to spark suspicion. “No, I wouldn’t do a thing like that. That’s for sure...”

Spencer let out a quiet sigh, but you noticed the faintest flush in his cheeks.

Interesting.

After a few minutes of procedural questioning — Miranda rights, lawyer offers, yawn — he launched into something more cerebral, something verySpencer. About behavioral inconsistencies, a hypothesis regarding your relationship to the victims, a theory about displaced anger rooted in early trauma. You nodded along, wide-eyed, absorbing none of it.

Then, you leaned forward, your tone silkier now. “You got a girl?” You tilted your head, your lashes lowering like curtains over a scene.

“I don’t see a ring on your finger...”

The question caught him off guard. For a second — just one — his lips parted like he might answer.

He didn’t.

Instead, he blinked and looked down at the photos, clearly recalibrating. You didn’t miss the flicker of tension in his throat or the twitch of his fingers as they adjusted his sleeve.

“You know,” you continued, voice feather-light, “most guys would’ve jumped at that question. But you — you’re not like most guys, are you?”

He cleared his throat. “I’m here to ask you��the questions.”

“But you’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Your tone wasn’t accusatory. It was gentle. Like seduction in reverse — a weapon masquerading as affection. “Wondering what kind of girl it takes to make five men bleed out in abandoned places. Wondering if maybe you’ve been wrong before…”

Spencer shifted in his seat. He looked uncomfortable, but not repulsed. Intrigued. Curious.

That was always the beginning of the unraveling.

“I’ve profiled killers half your age,” he said quietly. “And twice your size. The body doesn't commit the murder — the mind does.”

You smiled.

“Oh, doctor, if you wanted to get inside my mind,” you said, leaning in just a breath closer, “you could’ve just asked me out to dinner.”

There it was.

The faintest smirk tugged at his lips before he blinked it away. He hated that you got to him. You could see it — the subtle tension in his jaw, the way he looked through you now instead of at you.

“I think you enjoy this,” he said suddenly, voice low, as if the thought had just materialized. “The game. The attention. Not because you're proud of what you’ve done, but because you want to see how long you can play the part before someone catches on.”

You said nothing, just tilted your head, that same disarming smile plastered on your lips.

“You’re not here to prove you’re innocent,” he said. “You’re here to see if I’m smart enough to prove you’re guilty.”

And finally, something changed in your eyes.

Not panic. Not fear. Just… interest.

“Well?” you asked, your voice still soft but your smile sharper now, like a knife behind a ribbon. “Are you?”

Spencer didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. He just stared at you for a long, weighted moment.

And you knew then — he was the first one to make you nervous.

[starzfield]

Starter for @post-mortem-lullabies !

It was one of his (rare) day off, yet Duncan felt so tired he could as well be coming back from work. He wasn't though, and so tried to enjoy the free time as much as he could.

Maybe it would have been an easier task if his breakfast had another form than a piece of over-dry bread this morning... And now Duncan was on his way to do groceries, pocket shamefully full of discount vouchers.

The prospect of groceries was quite bitter to him, so he was dragging his feet quite a lot, furthermore as he was going through the park. Duncan enjoyed it here. And when a big, beautiful dog run at him, the man basically stopped, intrigued. Without thinking, his immediate reaction was to attempt to pet him with a smile - a habit that got him in trouble more than once.

"Hey buddy... Whaddya want ? Don't have any food for you." The ex-mafioso liked pretty much any and every dog, may them be all cutesy or looking like they fought in a war.

Obviously this dog wasn't alone, so brown eyes studied his surroundings, in search of the owner of the animal. At least, considering the size of the dog, surely he wouldn't be accused of trying to steal it away, this time.

Yes, it had happened before.

[lured-into-wonderland]

Humming a waltz and in a mood to dance, Emil carelessly approached the woman. "Would you honour me with a dance, miss?" Reaching out her hand, Emil gave a bow suitable to her dress: an old fashioned coat and breeches with a yellow, sunflower-patterned cravat. // hi hi

No, she did not expect such a chivalry. Not here anyway. Truth to be told, she did find herself here to escape the stiff etiquette and rules she disliked; yet needed to obey. Most of the time anyway. But she was also not the one to reject chivalry (or yet not to appreciate it), when offered so nicely to her.

So Nunnally smiled to that person in a sunflower-patterned cravat (perhaps hard to believe given the colour palette Nunnally was wearing, but sunflowers were one of her favourite flowers), and returned a deep enough curtsy: --

“Of course, I’ll happily accept.” – Nunnally stretched her hand towards the stranger, “Especially that the waltz you were humming is one of my favourites.”

Nunnally liked waltz. Or dancing in general. Her dress, a bit old-fashioned as well, blue and decorated with lace, was so suited for what they were going to do. She let a small laughter: --

“Excuse my impoliteness, but why did you pick me? Was it because I look slightly out of the place... Just like you?” – it was a funny thought that had just hit her. That they both did not (fully) fit the place. She liked the thought, though. Nunnally had never minded being considered old-fashioned. She just was like that.

“My name is Nunnally. Nunnally Mathilde…”

“…if you care to know who you are dancing with…”

@post-mortem-lullabies