#season 3 was a lot more sexually graphic

[sundrop-writes]

Figure It Out

A Criminal Minds Casefic

“All things are subject to interpretation. Whichever interpretation prevails at a given time is a function of power and not truth.” -Friedrich Nietzsche 

Summary:

Since you joined the BAU, you have been keeping a terrible secret from the team.

When the team takes a case in your hometown - your festering secret comes to be known with a vengeance.

Fem!Reader x Gen!BAU Team (Platonic). General Casefic, modelled after a Criminal Minds episode. Angst, Mystery, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Criminal Minds Season 3.

Word Count: 18,000

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed Warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is a general casefic - there is no romantic pairings in this fic, it is more about the mystery of the case and how the reader character fits into it (if this were a real Criminal Minds episode, this would be the episode named after the reader) - with that being said, the main relationship focuses are between Emily and the reader and Spencer and the reader (because I am biased and I love them) but there isn’t any romantic threads or romantic tones, it is all platonic; the reader character uses she/her pronouns and is described as a woman, but I went out of my way to make sure that there is no descriptions of the readers looks or body type; there is use of Y/N and L/N (as in Last Name); mentions of the reader being from Georgia (because the case takes place in her hometown); smoking/cigarettes - mentions of the reader character smoking tobacco; mentions of the reader character being injured (severely in a past incident, and minor injuries during the course of the fic); mentions of vomit/mentions of the reader character throwing up; lots of warnings for general Criminal Minds topics; murder, killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of dead bodies, violence, guns/gun violence, mentions of rape and sexual violence, mentions of systematic violence towards women; there is no graphic depictions of rape/no rape scenes in the fic, but there is mentions of the event of rape happening to certain characters, references to rape culture, and the shame/guilt/self blame a rape victim feels; mentions of stalking/stalking behaviors - including the delusion mindset of a stalker, obsessiveness, sending someone unwanted letters, mentions of a ‘one sided’ relationship; mentions of trauma/PTSD; descriptions of symptoms of PTSD; themes surrounding the cycle of violence; I did kind of purposefully make the warnings a bit more vague than I usually do, because I really don’t want to spoil the plot of this fic. But as lot as you are okay with the maturity of all these themes, you should be okay with this fic!!

A/N: This is pretty much 100% inspired by the music video for Figure It Out by Royal Blood - which the fic is named after. I highly recommend watching the music video, because it is fucking art in my opinion, but I have taken such heavy inspiration from it in terms of the style, tone, and even storyline - so the music video kind of spoils this fic. So probably watch it after you read the fic lmao. I also feel like the instrumental version of the song goes very well with this fic. This fic is not at all typical and I am terrified that people won't like it, or that they won't 'get it'. But I am very proud of it, so I am going to put it out there and hope that people enjoy it. So - please enjoy!! I really love writing Criminal Minds casefics and coming up with the details of a case, and writing it in this style was so, so exciting and interesting for me, and I really do hope that you can enjoy reading it.

...

“All things are subject to interpretation. Whichever interpretation prevails at a given time is a function of power and not truth.”

-Friedrich Nietzsche 

...

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Madison Police Department, Interrogation Room #1 - Madison, GA. 3:39AM.

The chilled air of the interrogation room only made the regret more palpable in your lungs. 

The hum of the fluorescents overhead made you feel like a bug about to be zapped - like your entire life was over and you would soon be resigned to a cage. 

You hated it, but you had to wonder what you would have done if you had ten more minutes. Ten more minutes before they had arrived, sirens screeching, lights flashing. Your mind kept replaying the moments over and over again. The knife had felt so perfect in your hand. 

Ten more minutes. 

“I just want to talk.” 

So caught up in your thoughts, your mind so foggy from the hectic night - you had almost forgotten that there was someone sitting in front of you. 

He looked so entirely stiff - wearing his cookie cutter suit and his carved-in scowl. He did nothing to shift your mood. 

“This is just a conversation. Nothing more.” 

He continued on, using a monotone, would-be soothing voice when you didn’t say anything. 

The metal chair felt stiffer underneath you, and you felt further suffocated within that small, concrete box. 

You felt inclined to call it an interrogation, but you wouldn’t be so quick to tell him that. It’s not like you were going to tell him what he wanted to hear. 

“You can smoke in here if that makes you feel more comfortable.” He added on, pushing something from the middle of the table toward you. 

A pack of cigarettes and a lighter. There was also an ashtray. A collection of things that someone had put there, knowing that you would be resigned to this tiny, tiny room. 

“You don’t have to treat me with kid gloves, Hotch.” You huffed, saying his name, using the same technique that he would likely be using on you. You could mirror him, get ahead on the mind games. “I’m not as crazy and detached from reality as you think I am.” 

Perhaps that was a false statement. You weren’t even sure how crazy he thought you were. Perhaps, that in itself made you detached from reality. You couldn’t be sure. 

Nonetheless, you took him up on the offer. You reached out and eagerly picked up the pack of smokes, ripping off the outer plastic before you took one out, shoving the tip between your lips and lighting it up. 

You took a heavy draw, and the nicotine throbbed through you. Seemingly adding to the headache you already had from the large gash on your forehead that they had hastily bandaged before bringing you in here, rather than relieving it. Still, you sucked on the cigarette like it was your only lifeline - taking a moment to tap some of the ash into the small ashtray while you stared at Hotch carefully. 

You wondered if you should really tell him all the gory details. 

“Just tell me what happened. Tell me your side of the story.” Hotch said, trying his best to sound warm and convincing. It didn’t work. “I’m just trying to figure it out. Just like you are.” 

Perhaps your biggest regret was that you were here, cooped up in this hole - and he was in the hospital somewhere, laying in a soft bed, being attended to by nurses, being comforted. The fact that he was still breathing - even with the assistance of a tube down his throat, and not in a body bag.

“You’ll never look at me the same if I do tell you.” You managed to find these words, and these words only. Ominous, almost threatening - more so than you intended. 

“I won’t.” He returned. Shallow, fallible. 

Suddenly, a crash from the hallway broke the tense silence that was brewing between the two of you. The door was thick, but it wasn’t enough to disguise the ruckus coming from outside. 

“No! No! You have to let me through! I have to be in there!” 

The voice was familiar, but that tone of desperation certainly was not. 

“Reid, he specifically told us to sit this one out-” 

“Sit this one out?!” Reid repeated the words back, his voice warping with pure shock, the inability to conceptualize such a thing. “You expect me to just sit out?” He scoffed. “If it wasn’t for me, two more people would be dead, and there wouldn’t even be a ‘this one’! Now let. Me. Through.” 

“Reid-” 

With all his bolstering stubbornness, he shoved past whoever had been trying to stop him, and as you took another heavy puff off your cigarette, the interrogation room door came flying open. 

Hotch stood up, rushing to block the door, but you smiled. Though you were numb from the day’s events - it was your natural instinct upon seeing him. 

“Reid-” Hotch choked out, trying to block the gangly man from even entering the room. 

“Good evening, Doctor Reid.” You greeted him gently. 

Upon seeing your reaction - so much more open and warm - Hotch allowed him in. This was the wedge that he needed to pry you open. Reid closed the door behind himself with an indigent huff and a glare toward his superior. 

Reid crossed his arms, hovering near the door as he turned his stiff-jawed glare toward you now. Your cigarette turned to a hot cherry in your hands - sucked to death already, and you stubbed it out in the tray before starting a new one. You knew chain-smoking was an even filthier habit than the occasional ciggy, but you had one hell of a day under your belt. If there was ever a time, it was now. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Reid asked, his voice stiff and oppositional. 

“Oh, so many things.” You said, your tone clever and unphased. Hotch let out a sigh as he sat back down in his chair. He was glad that you were talking openly now, at least. “Shall we go in alphabetical order, or start at my birth and work or way back from there?” 

Reid let out another nasal thick sound. Apparently, he wasn’t in the mood for banter. 

You were met with nothing but a stony wall of silence, and cold glares of disapproval. It almost made you feel guilty. Almost. 

“Let’s start with this,” Reid corrected you. “Why?” 

Truthfully, you couldn’t give him that answer. You didn’t think you would ever have enough time to conjure it up within yourself. 

“You’re the genius profiler, Doctor Reid.” You fired back coldly. “You tell me.” 

… 

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Abandoned Country House - Madison, GA. 2:20AM.

Prentiss led the team as they searched through the house. It was the only solid lead they had as to where you might be. It was a house that your parents used to own - a place of significance because you had lived there the summer when it first happened. 

“Clear!” 

She went through the living room, the kitchen, the entire first floor, leading the team with Reid at her side, guns drawn. 

“Clear!” 

As she crested the top of the stairs, she heard sobbing. 

It was distinct - something that tugged harshly on her heartstrings. 

Even though it was against protocol not to clear the rooms in order, she rushed toward it. Reid continued to flank her - obviously he had heard the noise too. 

Prentiss landed a sharp kick on the door’s handle, causing it to fling open. 

The picture on display in front of her almost caused her to drop her gun. 

Hotch had been right. 

You were on top of the man, straddling him. Both you and the man were badly beaten - but right off the bat, Prentiss could tell that he was far worse off. Clearly, you had bested him in the fight this time. 

The contents of the room strewn about; broken glass, busted furniture, the curtain rod torn down. It looked like the remnants of a bad WWE brawl. You were the picture of desperation - heavy, hot tears coming from your eyes, blood smearing down your face from a gash on your forehead as you stared down the man beneath you with fiery madness in your eyes. 

You had a knife to his throat. A large hunting knife - the same kind that all the other victims had been stabbed with. 

You had the tip of it poised to his throat, just barely touching his skin. If you put any amount of pressure on the blade - if you bared down, then you would slice right through his esophagus. It would take almost no effort from you at all to end his life. 

From what Prentiss could see, the man was unconscious. He was completely slack, his body still on the ground. He was bleeding from a small head wound. His life was entirely in your hands. He couldn’t fight back. 

Both your hands shook vigorously as you struggled with the warring inside of you, as you struggled with the weight of the confrontation with your life’s biggest monster. 

Though it went against everything inside of her, Emily kept her gun raised. She kept her arms stiff, keeping her gun pointed at you. As much as she detested that man, knowing what he had done - it was her job to shoot you if you tried to kill him. Right now, she hated that job. 

“Put the knife down!” Prentiss ordered sharply. 

You didn’t move. 

Naturally, Reid, in all of his softness and empathy, slackened his arms and holstered his gun before anyone could blink. 

“Come on, put it down.” She tried again. 

You ignored Prentiss entirely, your hands still shaking, making no moves to lift the knife away from the man’s throat. 

Reid moved to step into the room, and from his view at the top of the stairs, arms stiff and gun pointed in your general direction - Hotch called out to him. 

“Reid-!” He tried to warn Reid against doing this. Of course, he didn’t listen. 

Reid knelt down beside you, posturing in surrender with his arms. Of course, he wasn’t even on your radar at the moment. Your entire gaze, your entire focus was on the unconscious man underneath you - the true target of your agony. 

“Y/N,” Reid said your name calmly, trying to capture your attention. “You don’t have to do this.” 

You hesitated for a moment, and Prentiss worried that even his gentle voice wouldn’t be able to get through to you. 

“I have to.” You sobbed out. More heavy tears slid down your face, and you began to shake more visibly, shockwaves moving throughout your entire body. 

“You don’t have to.” Reid told you, his voice calming, gentle. “You - you can give me the knife, and then we can just… walk away. And then it all ends.” 

“It won’t just end!” You screamed out, your voice a curtling weep that bounced off the walls. 

It made Prentiss’ heart jump inside of her chest. If it wasn’t protocol, she would have dropped her gun and run over to comfort you with a hug. But she knew that you weren’t in the most stable place. You might have tried to stab her with the knife. 

“It can end.” Reid assured you calmly. “You just have to come with me. You just have to put the knife down and-” 

“I have to make it stop!” You screamed, trampling over his quiet voice. “I killed those women. I killed them!” 

“Prentiss!” Hotch edged in, warning her. 

If you didn’t move off of the unconscious man soon, then she would have to take you down. 

“Just give him a minute!” Prentiss fired back. She had faith in Reid. 

“We both know that’s not true.” Reid told you. “You didn’t kill them. You didn’t mean for this to happen-” 

“He killed them because of me!” You shouted, cutting him off. “We both know it’s my fault.” 

“It’s not.” Reid choked out. “Please don’t say that.” 

There was a gutting silence. 

“Please, just give me the knife.” 

At this point he was doing some pleading of his own - but your hands were unsteady and you still refused to look at him. 

You weren’t going to give up the fight that easily. 

… 

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Somewhere On The Country Backroads - Madison, GA. 2:11AM.

“I want two squad cars down the road, I want state police cutting off all the possible exits to the major highways.” Agent Hotchner was on the scene, doing what he did best - giving orders. “I want to cut off any chance of possible escape incase the suspect tries to flee-” 

“Hotch, do you really think that’s necessary?” Morgan asked. “We’ve got the house. Thermal cam’s got two bodies on the second floor. There’s nowhere to run from here. We’ve got spike strips on all the dirt roads. No car is getting past any of that. It should function as a hard extraction from here.” 

Hotch glared at Morgan as he fastened the straps on his bulletproof vest. The glare of the red and blue lights from the squad cars only made the deep frown lines on his face look firmer. 

“I am not taking any chances.” Hotch said. “We both know this is an incredibly delicate matter. We found one of the victims across state lines. We know this suspect has mobility. I’m not risking finding another body.” 

The air became tense as everyone realized what he meant by ‘another body’. 

“I want tactical swat to go in first-” Hotch began, and was quickly cut off by Morgan. 

“You’re sending in swat when there’s a hostage in there?” Morgan questioned harshly. 

“Even if we go in there blazing, showing force, she might not come in quietly.” Hotch explained.

“You’re serious?” Prentiss replied, hooking the wire of her earpiece around her ear in order to tuck the mic in. “She’s the one you’re worried about? She’s a victim in all this.” 

“You saw the incident report.” Hotch reminded her. “The amount of defensive wounds she had… the first time he attacked her, she fought back hard. She’s desperate, she’s feeling cornered, she-” 

“She’s terrified right now.” Prentiss pressed harshly. “She doesn’t need a bunch of men going in there waving guns in her face.” 

“She could sacrifice him.” Hotch theorized, further trying to prove his point. “This could be her chance to finally get justice. Finally getting rid of the man who’s tormented her for all these years.”

“So we have to bring them both in. Quietly.” Morgan said. “We can’t just go in there shooting. If your theory is correct, then she could use him as a human shield.” 

Hotch nodded. “Fine. No tactical swat. Prentiss, you take the lead.” 

“Yeah, and I’m taking Reid with me.” Prentiss told him sharply. “Somebody with a little compassion around here.” 

Prentiss nodded and scoffed, walking past Hotch, gently whispering ‘what the hell is wrong with you’ on her way to get in the car with Reid. 

… 

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Madison Police Department - Madison, GA. 1:45AM.

When JJ let out a harsh sigh, Emily turned to her, swiveling in the borrowed office chair with a creak. 

“What is it?” Emily asked. 

“Don’t you feel that?” JJ replied. Emily shrugged, waiting a moment for her to finish the thought. “That… overwhelming feeling of dread?” 

Of course, it was obvious. No leads. No breaks in the case. 

It was hopeless. 

“Come on, I thought you were the hopeful one.” Rossi pointed out, tossing his empty paper coffee cup into a nearby trash can. 

“How can I be hopeful when one of my best friends is caught up in all this?” JJ fired back. “If she-” 

Before she could finish that thought, Reid stormed in, capturing everyone’s attention. 

“Guys, I think we got the profile all wrong.” He announced, a look of worry knit into his features. “And - if I’m right, then I think I know where she is.” 

… 

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Abandoned Country House - Madison, GA. 1:45AM.

You knew that it was cruel, but you couldn’t help but to enjoy his groans of pain. 

There had been so many others - so many monsters to take down. So many men that you had gotten rid of without a second thought. Men you had put bullets in that didn’t mean as much to you as this. So many others you had easily forgotten about. But he had taunted your soul in a special way. And you knew that you were enjoying this too much. 

“Tell me you like it!” 

You screamed, taking another downward swing with the piece of wood - a leg broken off from the chair he had bound you to. He had been convinced that you wouldn’t break free. Laughable. He should have known better.  

When he didn’t respond, you took another swing. 

You could have stopped. You could have ended it. But you didn’t. 

“Come on, tell me you like it!” 

You screamed in his face, sputtering blood across him. At one point, he had punched you in the mouth. You weren’t exactly sure where the blood was coming from. You didn’t exactly care.

That would be your excuse.  

He had hit you too. You were battered. You were just a fragile woman, after all. 

“You’re a fuckin’ crazy bitch.” He coughed, sputtering out some blood himself. “I… I always liked that about you. It was one of the reasons I fell in love.” 

He grinned - bright red spread out across his teeth, and it gave you the intense desire to see those teeth missing. To make him swallow them. 

“You don’t love me.” You told him firmly. “You just get an adrenaline rush from being around me because I’m not afraid of you.” You explained. “Unlike the other whores, I fight.” 

While you were preoccupied with the words, he flipped onto his stomach and began crawling across the floor. 

He thought you were too stupid to notice, but he was inching his way toward the hunting knife that had been thrown out of his hand during the scuffle. It was a slow, sluggish crawl. You had broken a few of his ribs, his kneecap. It was nice to see him so slow. You had probably severely damaged his internal organs with how hard you had been beating him with the makeshift baton. 

It was worse than last time. You stood above him like a menace - watching and waiting. You hated that you knew you would take an odd kind of joy in removing his hope when you stole the knife from his grip. 

Just as he grazed his fingers across it, you brought another harsh swing down across his achilles tendon, causing him to scream out in pain. 

You still had a lot of strength left in you. He was tiring out. 

He was losing the game. 

“Come on baby, tell me how you like it.” You continued to mock him. “Tell me how good I am.” 

“Fuck you.” He moaned out. 

You felt satisfaction bloom inside of you - those were the words. 

He had finally given up hope. He had finally realized that maybe: he wasn’t going to beat you. Maybe he wasn’t above you on the playing field anymore. He was fucking around with a fellow predator, not toying with his prey.  

“Oh baby. You know I’m only doing this because I love you.” You said, repeating his own words back to him in a cruel mockery. 

That was when he realized: this wasn’t just a lover’s spat. This was a culling. 

… 

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Just Outside of Madison Police Department - Madison, GA. 1:04AM.

Reid needed some air. 

Working on the case so diligently, not coming up with any leads. It was intensely difficult. Letting the balmy summer Southern air flow over him, getting a good gulp of the fresh air into his lungs - it was a bit more awakening than drinking his sixth cup of coffee for that day. 

He was surprised when he rounded a corner, trying to go for a short walk to stretch his legs, and he saw a very recognizable face hovering near a gray Honda. 

“Mrs. L/N?” He posed, approaching her gently. “It’s late. What are you doing here?”

JJ had promised to call her if there were any updates. Reid didn’t want to disappoint her by telling her that there were none. 

“It’s Miss L/N.” She said quietly. “I never married.” 

Reid nodded at this. “My apologies.” 

She looked deeply troubled. 

Reid waited patiently for her to reply to his initial question - for her to tell him whatever was burdening her. If he was lucky, it could help with the case. It was always the families who could help put those final puzzle pieces into place. That was something Gideon taught him, so he took it as sacred advice. 

“You’re Doctor Reid, aren’t you?” She posed, stepping forward to approach him slightly - still stiff, still stand-off-ish. He easily understood why. He nodded in response. “My daughter speaks very fondly of you.” 

Reid cracked a small smile at this. 

His attention was then brought to a small box - a shoe box as she held it out to him. 

“I don’t mean to bother you at this late hour, but… you said to let you know if I thought of anything that might help you.” She reminded him. He nodded again. “And I - well, the reason I didn’t bring these up the first time… you can understand that I have a need to protect my daughter?” 

“Of course.” He affirmed. “It’s every parent’s natural instinct to protect their child.” 

She looked solemn at his words. 

“I had no idea that… that what happened to her could potentially be connected to these… these murders in any possible way.” She told him, shuddering as the word passed through her lips. “I was just trying to shield her, you have to understand.” 

She handed him the shoebox, and when he took it and lifted off the lid, it took him only a moment to understand. He would need to find a quiet place to fully inspect the contents, but it was all being pieced together in his mind now. 

“Thank you for bringing me this.” He told her quietly. 

“Doctor Reid, you have to promise me that you’ll bring my daughter home unharmed.” She said, tears coming to her eyes. “She’s a good girl. Please, just bring her home.” 

Unfortunately, he couldn’t promise her that. Not under the circumstances. 

“Ma’am… I will try my best. That is all I can promise you.” He told her. 

She nodded in quiet understanding before Reid turned and marched back inside. 

… 

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. Abandoned Country House - Madison, GA. 11:03PM.

The flint of the lighter flicking seemed to be the loudest thing in the room in that moment - even with the low hum of the eleven o’clock news playing in the background. 

It was so odd. Everything was exactly like you remembered it. Withered - but the same. 

Even the chair you were sitting in. The old wooden chair that had been lugged up from the kitchen, one that you used to sit in for hours and do homework - it was rickety, but somehow the same. 

You took a sharp drag off the cigarette after it was lit for you, continuing to listen to the feminine voice on the radio as the news played. 

“I’m Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, and I’m speaking on behalf of the Madison Police Department. Tonight, we are making an urgent appeal to the public for information. Earlier this evening, a woman went missing in the area of-” 

“I never took you for a smoker.” He said, his voice sharp and confident in the words. 

You tapped your cigarette into the ashtray with your free hand before raising it up to your lips to take another drag. Right now, the smoke heavy in your lungs was the only thing keeping you sane. 

“I never smelled it on you back then.” He added on when you didn’t respond to him. “Bitches who smoke always smell like dirtbags. You just… smelled nice.” 

“I didn’t smoke back then.” You quietly replied. 

He had driven you to take up the habit. 

You took another drag of your cigarette - you wanted to enjoy it. The longer you could drag it out, literally, the longer you could delay the inevitable. 

“-The suspect was last seen driving a blue and white, 1970s Ford truck. If you see the vehicle, please-” 

“They’re lookin’ for ya.” He said casually, nodding toward the radio. 

You wished they weren’t. 

You directed the conversation elsewhere. 

“Tell me how this is gonna end.” You urged him quietly, ashing your cigarette again. 

“You and I both know… this was only ever gonna end one way.” He told you, his voice irritably cocky. 

He had you now. He had won. 

“-We believe that this abduction is connected to a string of recent murders in the area. It is critical that if you have any information, you call our tip line at-” 

He rose from his spot then, and turned off the radio. 

The silence was gutting. 

He moved toward the door, but you abruptly caught his attention. 

“Remember,” You told him. “You made me a promise.” You said quietly. “No more. No more girls.” 

He chuckled at this. “Of course, darlin’. No more.” 

It felt like a lie. 

“But only because I love you.” He gave a filthy grin along with these words, and your insides shuddered. 

You knew that he wasn’t actually capable of love. You had known that from the moment you first laid eyes on him. 

You didn’t bother to muster any words in return. 

He crossed the room back toward you and leaned down, planting a kiss on your forehead. Your body stiffened, entirely stony toward it. It was selfish on his part - loving on you like a doll, rather than trying to bring you any comfort. 

He moved back to the door silently. 

You worried about what would happen the moment he went out the door. He turned to you just before he left. 

“Don’t run off now.” He said with a wink. Ego. Sarcasm. 

“Where am I gonna go, Dan?” You sighed. 

You lifted your tethered hand up to drive the point home, and the clink of handcuffs was now apparent in the otherwise silent room. 

He shut the door with a chuckle. You put out your cigarette in the ashtray, reaching for the loose spoke in the back of the chair. This was a chair that you used to sit in for hours while studying. That loose spoke used to bug you all the time. 

It came free after only a few tugs. 

… 

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. QuitTrip (Corner Store) - Madison, GA. 10:24PM.

The previously dark parking lot of the secluded, back country convenience store was now entirely lit up with red and blue. Four police cars had crowded into the area, surrounding the place where you had last been seen. 

Inside, under the harsh white fluorescent lights of the store, Hotchner and Prentiss were interviewing the store clerk - a young man who had supposedly been the last person to speak to you before the abduction. 

“So, you’re sure that you didn’t see anything?” Hotch pressed the young man - someone who seemed so entirely nervous under his harsh, unmoving gaze. 

“I swear, man, I didn’t see anything.” He said, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke. “She was parked in the back of the parking lot, and once you walk around the corner, there’s no way to see someone through the doors. It’s like - like a total blind spot, man.” 

“The UnSub had to have known that.” Hotch noted quietly, turning to Prentiss. “He approached her knowing that he wouldn’t be seen.” 

“Do you think he was waiting out there?” Prentiss wondered aloud. 

Then she turned back to the clerk. 

“Was there a man in here before she came in? He would have been in his 30s. Very cold, he wouldn’t have said anything. Just paid quietly and left. He might not have even bought anything - he might have just walked around, checking the blind spots. And if you asked him what he was looking for, he would have given you a glare rather than speaking. This man is not sociable. He’s very distant. He likely wouldn’t have looked you in the eye.” 

The clerk shook his head. 

“No, nobody like that.” He explained. “That lady - she was my first customer in, like, hours. She just bought her ciggies and left. And I thought it was weird cause she bought a lighter too. Most smokers already have a lighter on them.” 

“I didn’t know Y/N smoked.” Prentiss said quietly. 

“Me either.” Hotch confirmed. 

Hotch’s attention was captured by a screen behind the counter - surveillance feed, showing several different places inside the store. There was one camera just outside the door. If he wasn’t mistaken, that camera was pointed at that ‘blind spot’ in the parking lot. 

Without asking permission, he raised the partition and walked around the counter, his eyes hyper-focused on the screen. 

“Can you get me this footage from a few hours ago?” He prompted toward the clerk. “The view of the parking lot. We need to see what L/N did after she left the store.” 

The clerk nodded and began typing things onto the keyboard, and Hotch prompted him to stop when he saw you appear on the footage. Prentiss came around the counter as well, leaving the three of them crowded in close to the small screen as they watched the past version of you. 

You walked across the parking lot - toward your car, a cigarette hanging out of your mouth. You were making determined steps - until something stopped you. 

“The UnSub caught her attention.” Prentiss noted. 

Then - something entirely strange happened. While staring at the man off screen, you leaned against your car, and began ashing your cigarette, as if chatting idly with him. 

“He’s not using force.” Hotch thought aloud. “Do you think he’s got a gun trained on her?” 

“Maybe.” Prentiss hummed quietly. 

He was out of the frame, so it was only a guess. 

Then, after a few moments of this - you simply walked off. You walked in the direction he had been standing. 

“Did - did she just go with him willingly?” Prentiss gaped, entirely in shock. 

When she glanced over her shoulder, Hotch was gone. 

He stormed out into the parking lot, frantically gazing around. Prentiss followed him, chasing his chaotic energy. 

“Hotch!” She called out. “Hotch-!” 

“We need more camera angles! We need-” 

“Calm down.” She urged, grabbing him by the shoulders. 

“It just doesn’t make any sense.” He rasped. “Why would she go with him willingly? Why - why? Why would she?” He was frantic. “He must have threatened her. He must have-” 

They both didn’t want to think of the obvious. 

That you didn’t fear him. That - it hadn’t even been an abduction. 

“He must have threatened her.” Prentiss easily agreed. “She wouldn’t have gone with him otherwise.” 

They didn’t bring up the fact that you had a gun and plenty of training on how to use it. They didn’t bring up the fact that the profile said the UnSub couldn’t easily charm - he would have kidnapped you by force. 

Unless you were special. Unless he thought he could talk to you specifically for some reason. 

“Guys, what’s the news?” JJ asked, finally walking onto the scene. 

She hated the grave looks on Prentiss and Hotch’s faces. 

“I want you to put a press conference together.” Hotch said, straightening himself out and turning to her. “Make an appeal for witnesses. Tell them that there’s been a woman abducted in the area, but don’t tell them that L/N a Federal Agent. It could set the UnSub off if he believes that this abduction is being treated with a higher priority. If he feels a higher pressure from law enforcement, he might-” 

“Right.” JJ nodded. Hotch didn’t need to say the words in order for her to understand. “So: release her name and her photo, but act like she’s just a regular civilian?” 

Hotch nodded. “Exactly.” 

“If I get going now, I think I could still make the eleven o’clock news.” JJ said, rushing off with her cell pressed to her ear. 

“Let’s just hope that it brings Y/N home safely.” 

…

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. QuitTrip (Corner Store) - Madison, GA. 8:03PM.

You felt an odd amount of relief having nicotine in your system again. 

This was the first time you had smoked a cigarette in years. You had quit the habit shortly after you joined the FBI Academy when one of your advisers warned you that it might cause you to fail the fitness test. And you felt like you should just knock the habit, seeing as the only reason you had taken it up was because of… him. 

But - all of this was so triggering. Being back in your same small shitty town. Feeling it suffocating you like a plastic bag. 

The murders. 

You sucked on the cigarette for dear life as you walked back to your car, and just as you were about to get in - the windows of the car open, inviting in the sweet summer air, the keys still inside because you did feel an odd amount of trust in your hometown - something captured your attention. 

“Y/N.” 

Hearing your name in that voice made you freeze on the spot. The warm breeze felt like ice against your skin as you took your hand off the door handle, turning toward him. 

“You’re lookin’ gorgeous as ever, darlin’.” 

“You.” You ground out the word with as much disdain as possible, hot rage boiling in your blood as you looked at him. “I should have known it was you.” 

He let out a sharp chuckle - a sound that made your throat tighten up. He flicked his tongue out across his teeth, grinning his terrible Cheshire grin at you. 

A hand instinctively went for your gun, and your palm hit an empty section of your belt. He let out another sharp chuckle when his eyes followed yours, making the same realization that you did. 

You had left it sitting on the passenger’s seat of the car. Right beside your phone. 

You wondered if you could dive through the open window before he could get to you. When he made a posturing move, brushing his unbuttoned plaid shirt away and revealing the gun he had strapped to his belt underneath - you realized he would shoot you if you moved too quickly. 

You were stuck. 

“Of course it’s me, baby.” He said, casually replying to your earlier words. “You had to know that I did all this for you. For us.” 

Giving into your fate, you propped yourself against the side of the car - trying desperately to steady your wobbling legs without making it look like you were doing so. You tapped your cigarette, spilling some of the ash before you brought it to your lips once again. 

“I missed you like hell.” He told you with a snakeskin grin. 

“I didn’t miss you.” You bitterly fired back. “Not for a fucking second.” 

“Guess I made it difficult to miss me, huh?” He said, cocky as ever. “With my frequent correspondence and all?” 

“You know what I meant.” You fired back.

You glared at him sharply but didn’t say anything more, afraid that he would whip the gun out and shoot you. 

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, something that sounded utterly sarcastic. 

“Ooh, darlin’ that’s harsh.” He said. “That would almost hurt. If I didn’t know the truth.” 

You wanted to argue. You took in another large drag to help hold your tongue. You knew the results of arguing with him - it wasn’t worth it. 

“So… I think you know how this goes.” He announced. “You can come with me now. Or… I can go get another girl.” 

“No more girls.” You told him. “I’m here now. You won. Whatever business you have - it’s with me.” 

You stamped out your cigarette as you walked toward him, and your phone began to ring on the front seat as his truck rumbled to life and pulled out of the parking lot. 

… 

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. Madison Police Department - Madison, GA. 7:26PM.

“Hello! Everyone, listen up.” Hotch called everyone to attention as the local police continued to filter in, most of them standing around with cups of coffee in hand or notebooks out, ready to take notes. “We’re ready to give the profile.” 

“Yes, and please keep in mind that this is just a general set of guidelines describing the suspect.” Rossi said. “This is not a concrete list of things you should be looking for. A profile is more useful in the elimination of suspects, rather than the inclusion of them.” 

He then turned to Derek, who began reciting the profile that the team had put together so far. 

“This UnSub, or Unknown Subject, is most likely a white male in his thirties to forties.” Morgan explained. “He drives an American made vehicle, something large enough to conceal and transport victims, and something that has off-road capability in order to get to the more secluded areas where some of the bodies were found. So think trucks, heavy duty vans, anything with thick treads on the tires and a large payload. And his vehicle will most likely be in a more discreet color. This guy won’t be driving around in something flashy. He’ll be in something that blends into the background, like a beige or black truck.” 

“So what?” One of the local cops piped up. “We put out an APB for every single heavy duty black truck in the area? This is the south, do you have any idea how many people around here drive a truck? Especially ones driven by men in their forties.” 

“There’s more.” Hotch noted, looking toward you. 

“This UnSub likely believes that he is dating these women in some capacity before he kills them.” You explained. “He has left scraps of poetry at the scenes, pages of romance novels - several of the victims had wine in their stomachs or burns from candle wax on their skin. And it’s highly likely that he turns violent when the women reject his advances, or don’t live up to the fictionalized relationship he has made up about them in his mind.” 

“How does that help us?” Someone asked. 

“Well, it’s very likely that he frequents the same hunting grounds.” Rossi explained. “We encourage you to go to local bars, and nightclubs, even gyms or cafes and pass out the profile to women who fit this type.” He said, motioning toward the pictures of the other victims. “He will be on the hunt again soon, and he has a very narrow hunting ground, living in such a lowly populated area. So we might be able to catch him off guard if his potential victims have the profile as well.” 

“This man is romantic, but he’s not charming.” You added on. “He isn’t sociable. He’s very cocky, very self-centered. He believes that he is God’s gift to women, and he has a very fractured sense of reality in general. If women reject him in everyday interactions, he will get noticeably irritated, and even violent. So he will be remembered as an unpleasant person in most women’s stories.” 

“This UnSub most likely has an inside knowledge of law enforcement.” Reid stated. “But, because he has a very antisocial personality, he wouldn’t do well working with the public. We currently have our analyst combing through files of those who flunked out of the police academy or live in the area and are retired from the military in some capacity. We believe that he might have even been in prison for an unrelated crime or institutionalized at some point, giving him a close look at the inner workings of law enforcement, and also attributing to the large break between the first two crimes.” 

Reid took a breath, and then continued on. 

“He was knowledgeable enough to purposefully dump one of the bodies across state lines in order to get the FBI involved in this case, but it was just one of the bodies, and it was dumped in a very well trackied area where it would be found. So that leaves a heavy insistence that he was fed-up with the local police not giving his case enough attention or - simply not being smart enough to keep up with him.” He explained. 

“He is very cocky.” Prentiss added on. “Incredibly over-confident. He is a narcissist to his core, and he believes that he will never be caught unless he wants to be. He thinks that he has an intricate cat-and-mouse game with law enforcement, and he can go off the grid and disappear at any time that he wants.” 

“Well… isn’t that true?” One of the cops asked. “I mean, the guy’s been at it for years and we still haven’t caught him. There’s no DNA, no real leads.” 

Hotch hummed, nodding. And then he walked over to the evidence board and motioned to the pictures of the two most recent victims - barely recognizable compared to the shining, smiling photos their families had provided. 

“We believe that he’s decompensating.” Hotch explained. “He is growing more violent toward each victim, which means that he is getting more sloppy - eventually, he will go off-book. He will break his routine in some way, and that will be the moment he’ll give us something to catch him with.” 

“So… you’re just waiting for him to kill again so you can actually catch the guy?” Someone asked sharply. 

“No.” You easily replied. “We’re praying it doesn’t come to that.” 

“Thank you everyone.” Hotch said, clearing his throat, giving an unconscious signal for everyone to disperse. “That’ll be all for now.” 

Everyone easily fell under his authority, and meandered back to what they had been doing before, now armed with the profile and ready to distribute it to members of the public, to the potential victims. 

You had a harshly, sickly feeling in your stomach as you gathered some of your files. It was the same feeling that had been turning your guts into knots since you had arrived back in Madison for the first time in years. Your eye accidentally caught the evidence board - the tall, intimidating wall lined with the gruesome photos of all the women. 

Women who looked strangely like you. Same hair color, same skin tone, same body type. All of them horribly brutalized and left for dead. All of them terrorized, tortured right up until their last moments.  

“Hey.” 

JJ’s voice snapped you out of your swirling dark cloud of thoughts, drawing your eyes away from the evidence board with a gentle hand on your upper arm. You huffed out a harsh breath as you let her guide you, turning around to face the blonde woman as she stared you down with a distinct look of concern knit across her features. 

“Are you okay?” She asked. “I’ve never seen you like this.” 

She had a point. You had been doing this job for some time. You had gone to the FBI Academy straight out of college, after getting a degree in criminal forensics. And none of it ever bothered you. You had learned about the study of blood spatter and the decomposition of bodies on live body farms, and you never flinched. 

But this case - it was getting to you. 

It was likely the first time anybody on the team had ever seen you so disturbed. 

“I’m fine.” You lied, trying to shrug off her touch. 

“Come on.” JJ sighed in return. “I don’t need to be a profiler to figure out that was a big fat lie.” 

You rolled your eyes at this. 

“You’re so brilliant.” You let out a sigh of your own, and put down your files on the nearby conference room table. You stretched out your back, deciding that you would give her an inch, hoping that she wouldn’t take a mile. “I’m freaked out. So what? Doesn’t everybody have room for a bad day?” 

“Of course.” She nodded. “Of course, you can have a bad day.” Her lips pursed, and you knew there was more coming. “Is - is it anything more than that?” 

“I’m tired.” You lied again, hoping she wouldn’t call you out on it this time. “It’s been - what? More than twenty hours since we landed. For these guys it’s been years, searching for this bastard. I wanna catch him.” 

“We will.” JJ assured you, sounding rather dull in her declaration. 

“I’m gonna drive down the street and grab an energy drink or something.” You announced, grabbing your blazer off a nearby chair and putting it on. Not that you would need a jacket with the southern weather - but your cash and your keys were in the pockets. 

“I thought you quit Redbull.” She chuckled. 

“It’s been one of those days.” You replied, shaking your head as you walked out of the room. 

…

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. Madison Police Department - Madison, GA. 5:13PM.

“There’s still one thing that’s buggin’ the hell out of me.” Morgan announced as he walked back into the room with a fresh cup of coffee in hand. 

“That is?” You posed, looking up from the stack of personal files - potential suspects - that you were reading in order to engage him in the conversation. 

“What is with the two year hiatus from this guy?” He said, motioning to the board. 

The first victim had been abducted and killed all the way back in the summer of ‘99, but none of the other victims matched up until a missing person from September of 2001. And from there, the killings picked up in frequency - and the killer had taken over twenty six victims in and around Madison up until now. 

“It is weird.” You commented. “Usually after the first kill is when an UnSub is the most hungry for more. After that first taste for violence.” 

Morgan raised a brow at your strange choice of words and you shrugged it off. 

“Maybe he was hospitalized.” Reid said, appearing seemingly out of nowhere to make this comment, studying the board with his own intense expression. “Institutionalized? Maybe he was arrested for something completely unrelated, like - drugs, outstanding traffic violations?” 

“That’s helpful.” You sighed. 

“It could be.” Reid replied, sipping his own coffee. “I mean, we theorized that this UnSub has pre-existing knowledge of law enforcement - if he was in prison, maybe he was reading up on the law while he was in there? Who has closer knowledge of the law than ex-cons?” 

“Good point.” Morgan nodded. “I’ll call Garcia and have her widen the search.” 

“She is gonna love that.” You mumbled under your breath, already frustrated with the large pile of potential suspects you had to go through. 

Morgan took out his cell and walked into the other room, and you heard a distant ‘hey mama!’ as he chirped to Garcia on the other end. 

Then, you heard another voice that was all too familiar to you. 

“See, you’ve all just been working so hard, I thought you could use some sustenance!” 

It was your mother. 

You rushed out of your seat to find her in the middle of the bullpen, handing out muffins from a large basket that she had in her hand. 

It wasn’t entirely surprising to you, but it made your stomach sink. She was too much of a social butterfly for your liking. She knew about the last time you had been in this police station, she talked too much. No. You couldn’t risk her telling anyone. 

“See, that one’s blueberry, you like blueberry?” She was chatting idly, being her usual overly social self. 

“Yes, thank you so much Ms. L/N,” Prentiss smiled as your mother pushed more food into her hands. 

“Oh please, call me-” 

You knew that you must have looked like a storm, walking toward her with a scowl on your face. 

“Ma!” You barked, much harsher than you meant to, causing her to look up at you abruptly. “Ma? What are you doing here?” 

“Well see, you’ve been here all day, and you’ve been working so hard, so I made dinner for you and your friends,” She grinned, motioning toward a large tinfoil tray filled with mac and cheese that she had placed onto one of the desks next to a stack of paper plates and plastic forks. Naturally, a chunk of it was already missing. 

You wanted to scream when Reid walked over and began scooping out a portion for himself. 

“Ma, they’re not my friends, they’re my co-workers.” You said, exasperation ripe in your voice. 

You knew that this, too, ended up sounding much harsher than you had intended. As if you didn’t think of these people as friends. But you couldn’t stand the woman babying you. It’s not like she did much of that when you were an actual baby. 

“I’m an adult now, and-” You continued on, and she cut you off. 

“Oh yes, yes.” She nodded, reaching out to pinch your cheek in an utterly frustrating way. “Your co-workers.” 

“Please, Ma.” You sighed. “You can’t be here right now. This is a police station, not a bake sale.” 

“She can stay for a few minutes, can’t she?” Prentiss grinned, peeling the wrapper off her muffin. “We can take a break for dinner. I wanna hear some childhood stories about you.” 

Reid looked up eagerly at this, and you glared at both of them. 

“Oh, you should hear about the time she painted her face blue with the paint from-” Your mother began to tell a delightful embarrassing story, but you cut her off. 

“No.” You said sharply. “I’m sorry, but we have work to do. Important work. Once we actually catch the guy, I’ll bring everyone by the house for tea and cookies and you can show everyone my naked baby pictures, the whole nine yards. Just - not now.” 

You unceremoniously ripped the basket of muffins out of her hands and placed them on the desk beside the tray of mac and cheese, and she began to argue with you, calling you rude, telling you that she had raised you with better manners while you ushered her out the door. 

Prentiss and Reid exchanged a particular, concerned look as they watched you and your mother argue through the glass doors of the precinct. 

“Now what do you think that was all about?” Emily asked quietly. 

“For once, I have no idea.” Spencer mumbled in return. 

…

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. Georgia Highway 72 - Madison, GA. 1:32PM.

“This is new.” Morgan noted as the two of you walked away from the SVU, approaching the dumpsite where the latest victim’s body had been found. “This guy doesn’t usually dump bodies out in the open. You think he was in a rush?” 

The two of you had been sent to check it out while Hotch and Prentiss spoke to the family, and the others went over evidence from the many pre-existing cases at the station. 

“Not likely.” You replied. “Preliminary report says there’s still no DNA, no skid marks from his tires, no shoe prints. He’s not getting sloppy.” You felt a sickly wave of vomit splash up as you looked at the woman - her ankles sticking out of the tall grass just off the edge of the highway, where she had been left, entirely visible for anybody passing by to see. “This was a present. Like a fuckin’ cat leaving a dead mouse on the porch. He wanted us to find her. And he wanted us to find her quickly.” 

“I’ll tell you one thing,” Morgan noted, tentatively stepping into the grass and gently moving the long spokes of greenery back to get a better look at the victim. “He’s definitely escalating.” 

You crouched down to get a better look yourself, and you had to agree. 

Her face was almost entirely caved in, but it appeared to be from a series of blunt hits, and not from a singular swing with a heavy object. Between the pre-mortem swelling and the post-mortem rage, where he had continued to mutilate her even after her death, she was practically unrecognizable from the photo that her family had provided you with. The only reason the team had been able to confirm her identity for sure was that she had been reported missing, and she had been found wearing a unique custom charm bracelet that her parents could confirm belonged to her. 

You wished that you could guarantee they would never see her body in this state. 

“What’s that?” Morgan wondered aloud. 

You hummed back in confusion. 

Before you could wonder any further about what he meant, he reached out and gently pried open the victim’s mouth, fishing out a small piece of plastic that he had seen sticking out from the corner of her swollen, bruised lips. He had to fight to get it out of her stiff, death rigored body, but when he was able to - a small plastic bag came out of her mouth. 

A small plastic bag containing a piece of white paper. 

“What the hell?” Morgan mumbled quietly. 

Naturally, he opened the bag and took out the paper, and you looked on with nervous curiosity as he read what was on the note. 

“You are the stars hidden by clouds.” He read aloud. “I know you’re there even when I can’t see you. Your shine peeks out and reaches me in the depths of my soul. Tell me your arms are long enough to reach me across oceans. Tell me someday we will be together, somehow, some way. Tell me that this love we have can survive being together as well as we’ve survived being apart. Tell me we are more than the chasm of our divide.” 

Bile splashed up in your throat. 

You hated that the quote was distinctly familiar to you. You hated how you knew it. 

You could still hear his voice in your head, and it made your bones quake. 

“Hmm.” Morgan looked over the paper thoughtfully. “It’s another page ripped out of a book. Just like the other one. I’ll call Garcia and have her look it up, maybe-” 

“You don’t have to.” You said, hoping that your throat wasn’t too painfully constricted around your words. “It’s Jacqueline Simon Gunn.” 

Morgan easily saw the haunted look behind your eyes - the years old terror that you were having a much harder time suppressing now. 

Oddly enough, it was a feeling that he knew well. Perhaps that’s why he saw it in you so easily. 

“You alright?” He bothered to ask, even though he knew the answer was ‘no’. 

“I’m fine.” You lied. “We should bring this back to everyone else.” 

You rushed away from the crime scene like a bat out of hell, and even though he knew he should have pressed further - he let you. 

… 

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. Madison Police Department - Madison, GA. 10:08AM.

“Good morning, y’all.” 

The BAU was greeted by Chief Dalton, the Madison County Chief of Police, as you all filed into the small police department. 

“You can set up in the conference room over there, I hope we got y’all everything you need.” He said, flashing a warm, welcoming smile. 

“This looks fine, thank you.” JJ said, reaching out to shake his hand. “I’m Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, this is Doctor Spencer Reid,” She pointed to him, and he nodded in return - of course, rather than shaking hands. “This is Special Agent Emily Prentiss, Agent Rossi, and Agent L/N. Our Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner and Special Agent Morgan will be here later - they wanted to go and interview some of the families of the victims, get some more background information.” 

“L/N?” He motioned toward you, his eyes becoming fixated on you as you set down your bag and lifted one of the lids off the boxes to get a glance at some of the files. “That name sounds awful familiar to me - are you from Madison?” 

“Oh yes, I am,” You grinned at him, stepping forward and giving him a handshake, to which he grinned back widely. “I grew up here. This is actually my first time back in years.” 

“Well, welcome home.” He said. “I wish it was under better circumstances.” 

“Me too.” You easily agreed. 

You thought that would be the end of it, until: 

“You know I hardly recognized you. Such a pretty face, but the last time I saw you, you was beat to a darn pulp.” He remarked, giving a pained chuckle. 

Your stomach swelled with anxiety, and it felt like a pure balloon of concrete sitting inside of you. You felt all the eyes in the room on you - Rossi, JJ, Emily, Spencer - all of them staring you down as this man aired your dirty laundry like it was as casual as the weather report. 

“You came through here - what was it, the summer of ‘99? I’ll never forget that assault report. I’m surprised you can still see out of that right eye of yours, with the way-” 

“Coffee?” You cut him off when you managed to find your voice, rushing to change the subject and praying he would get the hint. “Where can I get a coffee around here? Long flight. And we’ve had an early morning. Long flight, going over the case.” 

You didn’t even realize you were tripping over your own words, repeating yourself in a rush to fill the air so he wouldn’t speak about the past anymore. 

“Oh, it’s right through there. In the break room.” He said, motioning vaguely behind him. 

“Would you mind showing me, please?” 

You knew it was cowardly, but you were now desperate to escape your colleagues, and wanted to drag the Chief away before he spilled anything else from his loose lips. 

He escorted you out of the room and it was only a mere moment before conversation ensued about the strange thing that had just happened. 

“Am I gonna be the first person to say ‘what the hell’?” Rossi asked, looking around to his teammates, who all had equally shocked and confused expressions. 

“It’s a small town. These people don’t exactly understand secrecy. Or tact.” JJ sighed. 

“Yeah, but why would Y/N keep that a secret from us?” Spencer asked, frowning. “If she was assaulted-” 

“Yeah, in the summer of ‘99.” Emily pressed. “That was a long time ago. Have you told everyone on the team every little detail about your life from ten years ago?” 

“Eight years.” Spencer easily corrected her. 

“Whatever.” Emily rolled her eyes. “We’re not here to profile her. We’re here to catch another scumbag and leave.” 

There seemed to be a resounding nod at this.

“If she wants to tell us about what happened, she will.” Rossi added on.  

… 

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. Outskirts of Madison - Madison, GA. 9:52AM.

“There’s my beautiful girl.” 

He had a perfect view of you through the scope of his gun. 

Of course, he would never hurt you. There was no bullet in that gun that was intended for you. This was just the perfect way to see you. Up close and personal. Just the way he liked it. 

This was the first time he had seen you in so long. You wore your makeup differently now - your hair was a bit different. But you were still his girl. 

“You’re gonna love the present I left for ya.” 

You spoke his language - violence. 

You wrote your life in blood, just like he did. 

You were perfect. His perfect girl. 

…

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. Inside the BAU Jet - Somewhere Above America. 7:12AM.

“So, the ME dates eight of these victims from within the last year alone?” Prentiss questioned, looking over some of the files on the table in front of her. 

“Well, it’s difficult to tell with the soil erosion and the heavy rain that the area had recently, but they are significantly less decomposed than the others.” JJ explained. 

“What I don’t understand,” Morgan noted. “Why would he give up his gig now? I mean, twenty four victims in a mass grave in the middle of the woods, and he leaves a twenty-fifth victim in the middle of the road, clearly intending for police to find it. With a damn note attached, giving up the exact coordinates of his mass dumpsite. Why?”

“It is strange.” Reid agreed. “Typically, whenever killers have contact with the police, it is to taunt them for their inability to get caught, believing that the police are stupid and they as killers are invincible.” He said. Naturally, this rolled into a rant as more facts came to mind about the subject. 

“Serial killer Dennis Rader, also known as the BTK killer, standing for Blind, Torture, Kill - he taunted police with letters over a period of three decades, between 1974 and 1991, each one that he sent to the local police simply saying ‘good luck hunting’.” Reid explained. “Occasionally, he would send them graphic descriptions of how he had posed the bodies at each crime scene. And he was only caught when a floppy disc he sent to a local television station was traced back to a computer that he had used at his church.” 

Reid laughed at this revelation, finding it amusing. With all eyes staring at him, he reached the realization that this wasn’t helpful to the case at hand - and then he easily clammed up. 

“So, this UnSub gives up the dumpsite because… he’s feeling remorseful? He wants to get caught?” Rossi theorized. 

“The level of violence across these recent victims has no indication of remorse.” You replied. “One of the bodies found at the dumpsite was missing over half her teeth, and had all ten of her fingers broken in multiple places. Seemingly pre-mortem.” 

There was a heavy silence at this. 

“Perhaps he’s feeling ignored,” Hotch posed. “He feels like his crimes aren’t being well covered by the media and he wants glory. He finally wants recognition for what he’s done.” 

“Well, wouldn’t he have sent some kind of manifesto or another letter to the police?” Morgan posed. “And it seems like the guy went through a whole lot of trouble for a long time, trying not to get caught. He buried them out in the woods, secluded. Wrapped them in plastic, scrubbed the bodies clean so there’s absolutely no DNA. Doesn’t seem like someone looking for glory to me.”  

“Not to mention that he wrote the coordinates for the dumpsite on the back of a page ripped out of a novel.” Rossi said, squinting down at one of the files - a close up forensic photo that had been sent over by the local police department. 

Prentiss held out her hand, and Rossi handed over the photo, and then she began reading the words off the page aloud. 

“-I wish, as well as everybody else, to be perfectly happy, but-” 

“-but, like everybody else, it must be in my own way.” You finished the quote before she could, the words flashing through your mind with a sickly twist in your gut. It was all too familiar to you, in the worst way. “It’s Sense and Sensibility. Jane Austin.” 

Everyone fixated on you with a strange gaze, wondering how you knew this off the top of your head. Especially when usually this would only be something that Reid would be able to recite so perfectly by heart. 

“Maybe he thinks that he’s romancing these women?” Prentiss theorized, trying to move on from the strange moment. 

“That’s plausible.” Hotch agreed. “When we land, Morgan and I will go interview some of the families. JJ, get us their contacts. I want to know if any of these women had problems with an ex boyfriend or even a bad date whom they rejected. It could be someone they once viewed as a potential romantic partner that went horribly wrong.” 

JJ nodded at this, going to look through her files for the information. 

“This level of torture - it’s likely a substitute for sexual gratification.” Morgan theorized, looking at the crime scene photos one again. “Maybe he is romancing these women, but in his mind, this is the ultimate form of romance? Having all of his conquests together in death - it’s a declaration of what a casanova he is. In his fractured world.” 

“It still doesn’t explain why he gave up the dumpsite to the police.” Prentiss argued. 

“Men like to brag about their sexual exploits.” Rossi said, nodding toward Morgan. “If these women are his conquests, in his mind, then he wants his manliness, his accomplishments, to be appreciated by other men.” 

Prentiss sharply rolled her eyes at this. 

“Well, at least we know our UnSub’s not a woman.” She remarked sharply. 

… 

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. BAU Offices (FBI Headquarters) - Quantico, Virginia. 6:15AM.

JJ stood at the front of the room, ready to present the newest case to everyone. 

“Last night, a body was discovered on the backroads of South Carolina, about five miles outside of the town of Delph. She was found naked, mutilated. Heavy bruising all over her body that insinuates the killer kept her and tortured her for days. Final cause of death appears to be blunt force trauma from multiple hits to the head, but she also had several shallow stab wounds across her body, seemingly from some kind of hunting knife with a rough blade.” 

JJ explained, beginning to present the case as she clicked the small remote, causing images of the crime scene to pop up on the large screen in the room. 

“The victim - now identified as Ashley Prembrooke, hadn’t even been reported missing. She left her parents house in Madison, Georgia, about three days ago to drive back to her dorm at the University of South Carolina. When she didn’t show up on time, her roommate assumed that she was staying at home for a few extra days. Her father has cancer, so she wanted to be there for him.” 

There seemed to be a particularly dark aura in the room at this news. 

“Did the killer know that she wouldn’t be reported missing, or did he just snatch her up by chance?” Morgan asked. 

“Her car was found abandoned at a rest stop a few miles from the border of Georgia.” JJ explained. “So… it seems to be random.” 

“Well, I hate to ask this,” Rossi said. “But why are we being called out for just one body?” 

“That’s the thing.” JJ sighed. 

She clicked the clicker again, and several close-up photos appeared. Photos of the victim’s mutilated body - among the harsh bruising on her torso, there was a piece of white paper, partially stained with blood. It had been folded and stapled into her flesh. 

“The victim was found with this page… stapled into her skin.” JJ said, clearly finding the words disturbing to speak aloud. “Written on the back, was a set of coordinates. Local police discovered that these coordinates lead to a random patch of woods, about ten miles outside of Madison, Georgia.” 

JJ queued more pictures onto the screen. It was those very woods - overturned dirt. And more than a dozen bodies, wrapped in plastic among the soil. 

“It was the site of a mass grave with twenty-four other victims - all women around the same age, with the most recent ones all having the same body type, the same hair color, same general makeup as Ashley Prembrooke.” 

“He has a type.” Hotch stated the obvious. 

“And for some reason, he tipped the police off to his hiding place.” JJ reminded them all. 

“Twenty four victims?” Prentiss questioned, clearly shocked by this number. 

“That’s what they’ve found so far. The decomposition on some of the bodies seems to go back as far as a decade, but it’s difficult to date them exactly.” JJ replied. 

“So… the guy is experienced, hasn’t been caught in years, and he hands over his honey pot to the cops? Is he trying to get caught? Is he feeling guilty?” Rossi posed. 

“No, not with that level of violence. There’s no remorse there.” Morgan replied. 

“He dumped Ashley Prembrooke over state lines. We could be looking at somebody with an incredibly wide hunting ground who gave up one of many dumpsites as a way to taunt police.” Hotch theorized. 

“That doesn’t seem to be the case.” JJ explained. “So far, eight of the most recent victims have been matched up with missing persons reports, all of them women from Madison. All within the last year alone. It seems like he targeted Ashley because she was from Madison - that’s his comfort zone.” 

When the pictures of the missing women - now confirmed dead, murdered violently, popped up on screen, your throat tightened. 

You had known at least two of them. You had gone to school with them. You had seen them cheer proudly at high school pep rallies - you had known them lively and bright. And now they were bones rotting in the soil, taken by some monster. 

Beyond that, there was an alarming trend. 

They looked like you. You couldn’t deny that. Same hair color, same body type, same skin tone. 

And they were from your hometown. 

Between this, and the letter, the morning was getting to be too much for you. You wanted to believe it was all a series of terrible coincidences, but… 

Looking across the roundtable at you, Reid was the only one who saw that sickly look come over your face. He was desperate to know what was troubling you. 

“Reid?” Hotch got his attention, finding it strange that the overly talkative man was quiet this morning. “You’ll work the geographical profile?” 

“Yes.” Reid nodded, finally taking his eyes off you. “It’s unusual for the killer to hunt wider than a five hundred mile radius from home. So it’s likely that he lives, works, and operates all within Madison.” 

“Good. We could be looking at a copy-cat who knew about the previous killer’s dumpsite, or… something else entirely. But we need to get on the ground there and find out.” Hotch said. “Wheels up in thirty.” 

Everyone dispersed from the table when Hotch finalized with this, and you found yourself much dizzier than you realized as you tried to stand. As everyone moved to their desks to gather their things, you moved to the counter to get a coffee - hoping to calm your nerves. 

“Y/N.” 

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Reid’s voice came from behind you - your own blood was pumping in your ears, and seemingly, he had snuck up behind you. But his usually quiet footsteps simply couldn’t be heard beyond the nagging thump of your own anxiety. 

“What?” You barked back, knowing it was far too harsh. 

“Are - are you alright?” He asked, hesitant to bother you with the question. 

“I’m fine.” You lied as you dumped the sugar packets into your cup, your shaking hands accidentally spilling some across the counter top. 

“Are you sure?” Reid pressed. 

You let out a heavy sigh and turned to face him, crossing your arms heavily over your chest. 

“What?” You said the word again, sternly, glaring at him. 

All he did was give you a soft, understanding expression in return. 

You hated it. 

You hated how he was so open - it was almost horrifying, how you could have easily told him what was bothering you. 

Sweet, accepting, understanding Reid. 

If you told him the truth, he probably would have told you some statistic that he found comforting. It would have been sweet, coming from him. But then, he would have been looking at you with those eyes all damn day, holding pity in his heart and not truly focusing on the work that needed to get done. 

“Can you look at the shit we see every single day and always be okay with it?” 

You easily made up an excuse, pretending you were rattled by the crime scene photos, even though this murder was no more graphic in nature than any other you had been subjected to seeing recently. 

“I’m human. So what?” 

Reid studied your face carefully. He saw guilt dancing in your eyes - the way you gently bit your lip was your tell for lying, that much he knew from playing many rounds of poker with you on the plane rides home. 

But he felt that simply nagging you more wouldn’t get the truth out of you. Not right now. 

“Okay.” He acquiesced. “I know it’s hard. If you ever need someone to talk to-” 

You stormed off, accidentally slamming into his shoulder on the way along in your haste to escape the conversion. Reid heavily eyed the cup of coffee that you had left cooling on the counter before he turned and left himself. 

… 

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. BAU Offices (FBI Headquarters) - Quantico, Virginia. 6:04AM.

You walked into the bullpen with your bag on your arm, sipping a strong coffee in a travel mug you had brought from home. 

“You look tired.” Emily commented as you walked over to your desk. “Late night?” 

You moaned in reply, not yet ready to let go of nursing your coffee mug, taking a few more long gulps as you took the strap of your bag off your shoulder and slung it into your chair. 

“Last night, the fire alarm in my building went off at 3am.” You told her, finally surrendering the mug and putting it down on your desk. “I was out of bed in a panic, barely awake, went into the hallway to evacuate - and the sprinklers had gone off. So I ended up standing outside for more than an hour in my little jammies, soaking wet, and it turns out - some teenager from the third floor pulled the alarm because he was having an argument with his mom. He didn’t want to go to summer school.” 

“Yikes.” Derek commented. “Well, you know, if you ever need a calm, cozy place to sleep, you can always give me a call. And you can bring your little jammies.” He told you with a wink. You rolled your eyes, knowing that flirting was his default. “As long as you don’t mind Clooney licking at your toes in the mornin’.” 

That almost made it sound more appealing. You did love that dog. 

“You know, a study was done at the University of New Hampshire that concluded that twenty to thirty minute windows of sleep actually optimize the human brain for functionality the most.” Spencer added on, leaning back in his chair at his desk as he explained this. 

“The schedule of a ten to twelve hour work day, followed by an eight hour sleep period has only been instituted in society as a commonality since the industrial revolution. And it doesn’t actually flow with how the human brain has been optimized by evolution. Before that, most people optimized their lives around a wake-sleep period of three to four hours, taking care of chores in the morning, participating in a midday nap, and then socializing in the evening and partaking in community events before sleeping again in the evening. And most communities functioned around people sleeping and waking at vastly different times rather than everyone having one collective morning routine.” He concluded, giving you a smile. 

You found his rambling fascinating, but you found it ironic that you could barely process half of what he had said - because you were too tired. 

“Well, unfortunately we can’t all live in villages and pick berries for a living.” Emily remarked with a yawn. 

The conversation shifted when Penelope walked in, and gave you a bright smile. 

“Good morning, pretty girl.” She greeted you. 

“Mornin’, Penny G.” You replied.

“This arrived on the mailcart for you, postmarked from a few days ago, stamped express. I figured you’d want to have eyes on it as soon as possible.” She told you, handing you a very average looking white envelope. 

You weren’t sure why, but it invoked a strange feeling in your gut. 

The moment that you saw the handwriting on your front - the script that made up your name. 

The way he had written it. 

Bile rose up in your throat, and you forced yourself to swallow it back down. All eyes in the room immediately knew that something was wrong. 

“What is it?” Emily asked. 

“Nothing.” You quickly replied. 

You didn’t even want to open it, but bitter curiosity was eating at you. 

How the hell had he found your work address? He knew where you worked now? 

“I’m gonna - bathroom.” You mumbled an excuse as you rushed back out of the room again, practically fleeing toward the bathroom, leaving all eyes on your shadow. 

In particular, Spencer’s eyes followed you hard as you retreated. He wondered how a simple letter could upset you so much. 

You secluded yourself safely in a locked stall, your heart thumping in your chest as you began to tear into the letter. The envelope turned to sinew in your hands with your anxious inability to open it properly. In a few moments, you pulled out the piece of paper with a shaking hand, and dropped the shredded envelope onto the floor. 

You barely managed to read its contents through tearful eyes. 

Lover, 

Fate has sent us on such different paths, but I will be with you again soon. 

I still miss you every single day. I remember your smell. 

I know none of the men you have spent your recent years with can measure up to me, which is why I have set you on the path back to me. 

“I wish, as well as everybody else, to be perfectly happy; but like everybody else, it must be in my own way.” 

-Daniel 

Your chest caved in when you realized that there was something taped to the corner of the page. 

You recognized the piece of dark cloth in an instant. 

It was from that night. He had kept it. 

You couldn’t keep the bile down that time. You turned to the toilet and puked up a horrible swirl of black coffee and half a toaster waffle that you had scarfed down while getting dressed for work. 

When you had just barely caught your breath, you heard the door to the bathroom creak open. 

“Y/N?” Emily called out your name. “Are you in here?” 

You didn’t answer. 

Instead, you heaved a large glob of putrid spit into the toilet and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Are you okay?” She asked, her voice now coming from right outside the stall you were in. 

“I’m fine.” You handed out that lie, not knowing how many times in the next day you were going to be saying it. 

“You don’t sound fine.” Emily told you. “I thought I heard you throwing up.” 

“Bad sushi.” You lied. “Stopped by the corner store on my way home. You know I never cook. Food poisoning is usually 50/50 with that kind of shit. Just another thing to add to my great night, right?” 

You let out a sour, sarcastic chuckle, but Emily didn’t follow suit. 

You knew that you would have to face her sooner or later, so you wiped your mouth again and then turned and unlocked the stall door. 

“I’ll be fine.” You told her, throwing her a very fake smile. 

“Yeah.” She said, tone flat, entirely disbelieving. “Would it have anything to do with that?” 

She motioned to the letter, which you had almost forgotten was crumbled up in your fist. 

“Can I see?” 

You didn’t even consider how suspicious it would be, but as her hand moved toward the paper, you ripped it up and tossed it into the toilet, grabbing the envelope up off the floor and tossing it into the mess of paper and vomit as well before you flushed it all down. 

“It’s nothing.” You grunted out, another very poor lie coming from your lips as you exited the stall and moved toward the sinks. “It’s garbage.” 

You turned on the tap and leaned down, taking in a mouthful of water to rinse out your mouth while she watched you with careful, piercing eyes. 

“It’s kind of pathetic that you’re trying so hard to bullshit me.” Emily remarked. “Not just because we’re both profilers, but because it’s so painfully obvious that something is wrong.” 

You swirled the water around your mouth, rinsing it out, and then spit into the sink before you turned the tap off. When you rose up to your full height, you caught Emily’s eye in the mirror - pitying. You hated it. 

It was that kind of pity that held you back from telling her the truth. 

She reached over to the dispenser and got you some of the paper towel, handing it to you as she spoke again. 

“You know you can tell me what’s bothering you, right?” She said, reaching up to put a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

There was a small, quiet moment - the words edged on your tongue. 

You truly considered just coming out with it. 

But then- 

A harsh knock on the door cut through the silence. 

“Y/N? Em?” JJ poked her head in through the door, clearly looking for the two of you. When she spotted you, she continued on. “I need everybody at the roundtable in five.” 

“Let’s get going.” You said, wiping your mouth and then crumpling the paper towel to toss it into the garbage can. 

… 

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Madison Police Department - Madison, GA. 1:45AM.

Reid stormed in, capturing everyone’s attention. 

After being given a shoebox full of strange letters by your mother, he had finally pieced it together. He finally realized the secret you had been hiding - the thing that put you right in this killer’s crosshairs. 

“Guys, I think we got the profile all wrong.” He announced, a look of worry knit into his features. “And - if I’m right, then I think I know where she is.” 

He motioned to something in his hands - it was a worn-out old shoebox, something that made everyone curious and confused. 

“What the hell is that?” Prentiss asked. 

“Come on.” Reid ushered everyone into the conference room, and once the whole team was gathered, he shut the door. 

He opened the box and spilled it into the middle of the table, revealing a flood of hand-written letters. JJ stood back in shock, Hotch observed carefully and silently as usual, and Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss began to pick through them while Reid explained his revelation. 

“Y/N’s mother gave me these.” He explained. “All of them are addressed to Y/N, and from what I can see, they’re pretty much weekly, and they go back as far as 1999.” 

“When the first murder occurred.” Morgan easily pieced the two things together. 

“Not only that,” Reid added on. “The first murder took place in August of ‘99.” He said, pointing to the picture of the first known victim on the evidence board. “And I think the first letter, or one of the earliest, is from July of ‘99. At least.” 

“So - so she was having correspondence with the killer?” JJ questioned. “What? Was he in prison? Are you saying that Y/N is involved with this in some way?” 

“No-” Reid rushed to correct this assumption, and Morgan cut him off. 

“She was at Quantico when the latest victims were killed. Even if the guy has a partner, I really don’t take her as bein’ responsible for this.” He said. 

“Plus, these don’t exactly read as love letters.” Pretniss pointed out, her expression growing disturbed as she read what the killer had written from the letter in her hands. 

“-every day I dream of you, my love. I remember the way you felt underneath me - clawing for your life, desperate. I remember the way you screamed. Tasting your blood for the first time made me feel alive again. I hope the bruises meant as much to you as they did to me.” 

“The use of ‘I’ language denotes self importance - the author has a natural narcissistic personality disorder, but he pretends that it’s a fulfilling two-way relationship, when naturally it’s a fixation on someone who could never truly live up to his fantasies.” Reid explained. 

The room fell silent as the reality of it hit everyone. You were the target of someone truly dangerous. Someone who was going to kill you when you didn’t perform the fantasy that he had in mind for you. 

“She was being stalked.” Reid declared quietly, sounding defeated. “She still is.” 

“These killings aren’t someone having separate, individual fantasized relationships with each victim; this is about the killer repeating the same relationship over and over again, performing the same ritual killing in order to relive the same fantasy over again, projecting it onto different women of the same type.” Hotch said, coming to the realization as he stared at the different victims photos on the evidence board with a firm look on his face. “He’s been in love with the same woman in his mind for years, but nobody can live up to the real thing. That’s why he gave up the dump site. Because he wanted to lure her here. He wanted the FBI here, because he wanted to get L/N here.” 

“Okay, but the bigger question is: why L/N? What was the incident that got him fixated on her in the first place?” Rossi questioned, asking what was on everyone’s mind. 

JJ’s face was struck with horrible realization, and she ran to the door, ripping it open. She screamed the Chief’s name at the top of her lungs until she got the man’s attention, looking entirely crazed to everyone else in the station. Naturally, she didn’t care. He bustled over, scurrying toward her urgent voice, spilling coffee on himself in the process. 

“Chief.” JJ breathed out. “You said that Y/N came through the station, and she was beaten up the last time you saw her - when was that?” 

“Oh, I dunno?” He creased his brows with concentration, trying to remember. “About ‘98? ‘99?” 

“Did she file a report about the incident?” JJ asked. 

“Yeah.” The Chief replied. “It was a break-in. Poor thing. Summer vacation, her mother wasn’t home, off with the church on a retreat hittin’ the bingo halls up in Texas. She said that she never saw the attacker, though. He was wearin’ a ski-mask.” 

There was a silent exchange among the group that said they knew the truth - you had seen the attacker, you knew him. It’s why you had gone with him willingly this time. But you hadn’t told the police the truth back then because you had been too scared. 

“Can you get me that report?” JJ asked. 

After too many anxious minutes, the Chief came back with an old file in hand, and JJ snatched it out of his hands with a mumbled thank you before she shut the door in his face once again. She placed it down on the table among the mess of letters, and flipped it open. 

“Oh my god.” Emily gasped when she saw the photos inside. 

There was a spread of old polaroid photos, pinned to the sides of the file. They were almost too graphic for the team to look at - one showing the damage to your face; both of your eyes bruised, one of them entirely swollen shut. Scratches, deep gashes, harsh bruising all over your body. You were wearing a dark cotton tee shirt with patches ripped out of it - as if someone had been clawing at you and nearly ripped the clothing off your body to keep you from getting away. 

“This wasn’t a burglary.” Derek mumbled, frowning as he picked up one of the photos and inspected it closer. 

“Get Garcia on the line,” Hotch told JJ. 

She dialed the tech’s number on the conference hub, having to unbury the small bit of technology from some papers before she did it. It rang for a few moments before the woman on the other end picked up. 

“Where’s our girl?” Garcia asked anxiously, talking about you. “Is there any news? You’re calling because there’s good news, right?” 

“Babygirl,” Derek called out, trying to get her to focus, but she trampled right past this and continued to ramble on. 

“Please don’t tell me she’s dead!” Garcia shrieked on the other end. “Cause I can’t keep losing people! And I know it’s selfish to say that I can’t lose her, but she’s one of my best friends, and I’m gonna be a mess! And she promised to be the maid of honor and my wedding, and I know I’m not even engaged, and I don’t even have a boyfriend, but I need to have her around for big milestones in my life like that, she’s like the best person I know, and-” 

“Garcia, we need you.” Hotch told her firmly, cutting off her emotional ranting. 

“Right.” The tech replied, sucking in sharply, trying to catch her breath. There was some scraping in the background - the wheels of her chair on the floor as she scooted her chair into her desk. “What do you need? I’m here.” 

“I need you to look up reports of rape in and around Madison County between 1991 and 1999.” Hotch told her. 

“Rape?” Garcia replied, seemingly shocked by the topic and how it might relate to the case at hand - how it might relate to you. 

“Come on, babygirl.” Derek encouraged her. “Work your magic.” 

“Yeah. I got it.” She said hesitantly, and then there was the clacking of her keyboard as she worked. 

“Oh. Ugh.” 

“What is it?” Rossi was the first to ask. 

“There’s over five hundred cases.” Penelope told them, clearly disgusted by this number. 

“Can you narrow it down to women in their twenties? With similarities to the victims who have been targeted by the killer. Same hair type, same race, same body type.” Hotch told her. 

“Turning on the creep filter.” Garcia said, using her usual sense of humor that she turned on to shield herself. “That leaves us with… about twenty cases.” 

“Were any of them prosecuted?” Hotch asked. 

“Two of them.” Penelope replied. “A couple of sorority sisters from the University of Georgia were held at gunpoint and raped by a pizzaman in ‘95. He went to trial, got ten years. And he was paroled for good behavior in 2003. Yikes.” Emily rolled her eyes in agreement with his comment. “And shortly after his parole, he crashed his car into a tree in a drunk driving incident. Looks like he’s probably not your guy.” 

“What about the other eighteen cases?” Reid asked. 

“Um… no.” Garcia replied. “None of them went to court. A lot of these say that the victims were attacked by a stranger… that he broke in through the back door. Hold on.” 

“What?” Derek prompted her. 

“There is one here. Terry Driver. She said that she was raped, and she identified her rapist as someone she knew - Daniel Matthews. But he was never arrested because his brother gave him an ability for the night of the incident.” Garcia explained. 

“I bet that one was air-tight.” Rossi scoffed. 

“What type of injuries did the victims have?” Hotch asked. 

“Um… nothing major.” Penelope replied. Hotch frowned. “A black eye… a few scratches.” She hesitated. “Ligature marks… from being tied to their beds. God. That sounds like the most horrible night of your life, doesn’t it?” 

Hotch shook his head, sweeping a tense hand over his face. “He doesn’t fit the profile.” 

“Wait.” Reid swallowed thickly, staring at the photos of you that were sitting in the middle of the table. 

Battered. Bruised. Broken. 

“Some of the letters refer to him having an awakening. ‘An awakening in my soul. A bond through blood.’” He explained, naturally reciting the words from memory after having only read them once. 

“She fought back hard.” He held up one of the photos - one of your arm, showing deep, bloody scratches. Defensive wounds. “She found back so hard - he must have liked it. It-” 

“It gave him a taste for violence.” Prentiss finished off the thought, fear written all over her face. “She - she was the one who made him realize that he could use violence to replace sex completely. So he switched from rape to murder.” She came to the shocking realization aloud, her eyes flickering from the photo of you to all the photos scattered across the evidence board - all the victims he had practiced on in the wake of you. 

“Oh - oh my god.” Penelope gasped, having heard all of this over the intercom. “He’s gonna kill her? He’s gonna kill Y/N?” 

“Garcia, What can you get me on Matthews?” Hotch asked. 

“Um, right - Daniel Matthews…” There was more clacking of keys, and then Penelope replied. “He grew up in Madison. Looks like he went to the same high school as Y/N. He used to play football. He has a juvenile record for… vandalism, underage drinking. The usual. Oh…” 

“Oh?” JJ wondered aloud. 

“He had a very brief stint in the FBI Academy. He was kicked out 2001 when he was accused of sexually harassing fellow female applicants, and he was flagged on the psych eval as having a possible narcissistic personality disorder.” Garcia explained. 

“Bingo.” Rossi sighed. “That’s our UnSub.” 

“Oh my god. The hiatus.” Morgan said, his eyes fixated on the evidence board now. “‘99 was the year he attacked Y/N, when he first got a taste for it… and then… he followed her to the Academy?”

“And he resumed the killings when he got kicked out.” Rossi picked up on the thought. “When he couldn’t be in close contact with her anymore… he couldn’t get a high off of retraumatizing her, reliving that night in his mind, he needed to relive it through the other victims.” 

It all fit together now. 

It was a horrible puzzle, but it all fit together around you. 

“Reid, you said you might know where he took her?” Pretniss said, turning back to the very tired looking genius. 

“Yes,” Reid shoved aside the file with the graphic photos of you, and went shuffling through the letters for something. When he found it, he handed it over to Prentiss. “A lot of the earliest dated letters make reference to ‘our special place’. Or-” 

“-the bed I first made love to you in.” Prentiss read it off the page, clearly holding back vomit. 

JJ grabbed up the file with the report about the break-in, shoving aside the photos, looking for an address. “It’s here. I’ve got it.” 

“Okay, I want squad cars, tactical swat, I want spike strips on every road in or out of that place. I need everyone mobile in ten minutes.” Hotch ordered sharply, causing everyone to jump into action. 

…

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Abandoned Country House - Madison, GA. 2:20AM.

It should have felt like a victory to hold a knife to the throat of your rapist - someone who had been taunting you for years after the incident. 

But somehow, you still felt small. You still felt so chaotic and out of control. 

Both your hands shook vigorously as you struggled with the warring inside of you, as you struggled with the weight of confronting your life’s biggest monster. 

In the back of your mind, you were aware of the guns pointed at you. You would have liked to believe that because Emily was your friend - she wouldn’t shoot you. 

Part of you thought it would be worth it. To kill this man and take a bullet in the process. 

You just hoped that she would aim to wound and not to kill. 

“Put the knife down!” Emily ordered, her voice sounding muffled in your ears as blood thumped hard through you. “Come on, put it down.” 

“Reid-!” 

You heard his name being called out, and you saw a figure moving from the corner of your eye, but all you could focus on was the blade in your hand. The sight of a thick, unmarked neck, ripe for the taking in front of you. The idea that all you had to do was press down and slice through flesh - and then, this would all be over. 

No more torment. No more letters. No more taunting. 

“Y/N,” 

His soothing voice spoke your name, and you held a sob inside of your chest. 

You had grown so much of a life beyond this. Beyond him. He had tried to ruin you, he had tried to keep you in some little cage in some shitty town, and you had outgrown him. You had friends. You had people who loved you. 

But you still couldn’t escape him. 

“You don’t have to do this.” 

Your hand shook as you held the knife. 

“I have to.” You replied, unable to hold back your sobs. You barely noticed the tears coming out of your eyes - barely able to identify why your vision was blurring, why your face was suddenly wet. 

“You don’t have to.” Reid told you, his voice calming, gentle. “You - you can give me the knife, and then we can just… walk away. And then it all ends.” 

“It won’t just end!” You screamed out, your voice a curtling weep that bounced off the walls. 

If you let Daniel walk away from this, he would come for you again. He would. 

Or he would keep killing other women in your place. And you couldn’t let that happen. 

You couldn’t let your cowardice be the reason that so many women had died. You should have killed him the first time he had ever touched you. You should have been brave enough then. 

“It can end.” Reid assured you calmly. “You just have to come with me. You just have to put the knife down and-” 

It just sounded like noises in your ears at that point. 

Spencer just didn’t understand. 

“I have to make it stop!” You screamed, urgent to make him truly hear you. “I killed those women. I killed them!” 

“Prentiss!” A voice called her name, but it was so distant in your ears. 

“Just give him a minute!” Prentiss fired back. 

“He killed them because of me!” You shouted, cutting him off. “We both know it’s my fault.” 

“It’s not.” Reid choked out. “Please don’t say that.” 

There was a gutting silence. 

“Please, just give me the knife.” 

You couldn’t give up. 

You had come too far to let Daniel win now. 

“It was my fault. I know what happened. If I had just been a good little girl… if I had just laid there and taken it… it’s all my fault.” You quietly wept, your arms still shaking - muscles ripe with hesitation as you struggled with your grip on the knife. “I have to be the one to make it stop.” 

By violence it was done, and by violence it would be undone. 

You could be brave enough this time. You could be the one to end it. 

“No, no you don’t.” Reid told you. “You don’t have to do it alone. We can make it stop together. Just give me the knife. Please.” 

You had been alone your whole life. What was one more thing? 

Just press down. Something in your mind screamed. Slice his throat. End it. 

“Please, just look at me.” Spencer begged, his voice growing more desperate. “Please.” 

You didn’t look up at him. 

You knew that you couldn’t. 

If you took one look at those soft, pitying eyes, then the tiny bit of bravery you had gathered up would crack away. 

“Y/N, please.” Spencer continued. “I know why you think you have to do this. I know that his face is the one that’s been in all your nightmares since that night. I - I know you were all alone then, on the night that happened. You must have felt so alone.” 

You let out another sob at this. 

You had been so alone. 

“But you’re not alone now. You’re not alone now, okay?” 

Spencer’s gentle voice delivering the words made them feel so true. 

“We’re here with you now. I’m here with you. You don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to fight by yourself anymore. You don’t have to be strong.” 

You heard a crack in his voice for the first time - his own tears. 

It wasn’t pity. 

It was genuine sadness for you, as he thought about what had happened to you. What had happened in this very bedroom all those years ago. 

“Spencer-” You choked out his name, and your body betrayed you. 

You finally collapsed, your hand dropping the knife, and Spencer reached out and grabbed you as you fell, helping to move your shuddering form away from the unconscious, horrible man as the others finally moved in. 

You heard more voices, more shouting - maybe Hotch giving orders. 

But all you felt was Spencer’s arms around you, creating a shield as he rubbed your back and gently hushed you, letting you sob as loudly as you needed to, giving you a kind of comfort that you had never felt on that horrible night. 

… 

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Madison Police Department, Interrogation Room #1 - Madison, GA. 3:39AM.

The chilled air of the interrogation room only made the regret of it all more palpable in your lungs. 

Maybe Reid had saved you from yourself, or maybe he had caused you to make the biggest mistake of your life. 

You should have killed Daniel. 

You hated it, but you had to wonder what you would have done if you had ten more minutes. Ten more minutes before they had arrived, sirens screeching, lights flashing. Your mind kept replaying the moments over and over again. The knife had felt so perfect in your hand. You should have sliced his throat. 

Ten more minutes. 

The hum of the fluorescents overhead made you feel like a bug about to be zapped - like your entire life was over and you would be resigned to a cage. 

Daniel had been hauled away in an ambulance. He had been entirely unmoving. In ‘critical condition’. They would likely charge you with manslaughter if he didn’t recover - it wasn’t likely that he would. You had overheard Prentiss remark on the irony that he was an organ donor. Because you had beaten him so badly, but not killed him, it was likely that his comatose state would lead to his organs being donated, and saving more lives. 

It could be viewed as a beautiful thing. 

But you had to wonder if the poison he had in his veins was contagious. Should the heart of a killer really live on inside someone else’s body? 

“Let’s start with this,” Reid asked you sharply. “Why?” 

Truthfully, you couldn’t give him that answer. You didn’t think you would ever have enough time to conjure it up within yourself. 

“You’re the genius profiler, Doctor Reid.” You fired back coldly. “You tell me.” 

You let out another puff of your cigarette, and he frowned at you. 

“No.” He said. “No more bullshit. No more games.” 

You definitely were not used to this version of Reid. 

You were surprised that it had taken you almost killing someone to bring out his cold side. But you supposed that everyone had a line. And you had crossed his. 

“Why didn’t you tell us you had been raped?” He asked. “Why didn’t you tell us that the rapist lived in your hometown and was a viable suspect in all of this? Why didn’t you tell us that the letter you received the other morning was just one of many your rapist sent you over the years, stalking you, obsessing over you after-?” 

“Why?” You said, your voice scraping against the word harshly as you tossed it back at him, cutting off his ranting. 

He gave you an impatient expression as it hung in the air - eyes wide, pursing his lips. 

It caused you to flare with anger. 

You let the cigarette burn down to a hot cherry between your fingers, the harsh sting against your skin being the only thing keeping you from lunging across the table and strangling him. 

You stubbed it out in the ashtray before you answered him. 

“Why didn’t I want to suddenly announce to a group of my intellectual peers that I was raped?” You echoed back, more tears gathering in the corners of your eyes - you knew that you must have looked quite crazed, especially when Hotch stiffened, and Reid’s expression dropped. “You know, when I first came to the BAU, it was the only time in my life that I wasn’t viewed as a victim.” 

“Y/N-” Spencer said your name in that gentle tone again, but you weren’t having it this time. 

“My dad left us when I was only a year old. And everybody viewed my Mama as this fucking martyr because she raised me by herself. ‘Oh poor girl. She doesn’t have a daddy. Poor little girl, all alone. Her mama does such a good job.’” You said, ranting in a crazed tone. But the floodgates had opened, and you couldn’t stop it. “Nobody wanted to talk about how my Mama was off half the time, drinking at bars, out partying with friends. She got pregnant at sixteen and she didn't want to stop having a life. God forbid I get in the way of that. I took care of my damn self! I raised myself!” 

You knew you were screaming, but you couldn’t stop it. 

“L/N-” Hotch tried speaking to you in a firmer voice. 

But you couldn’t stop. 

“Daniel only broke into the house that night because he knew I would be alone.” Your voice warbled harshly on the word, and you hated it. 

You hated the look that Reid and Hotch were giving you. 

Pity. 

That look you had been trying to avoid for so long. 

“When I came here that night and made the police report, they all knew I was bullshiting. They knew that it wasn’t a fucking burglary.” You pressed on. “But none of them said anything! They didn’t care.” 

There was a tense moment. You swallowed thickly around your own tears, holding back sobs once again. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Spencer tried again, seeming to be personally stuck on this point. “I asked you if something was wrong. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“That look in your eye.” You told him, entirely honest. “That look you have right now. I - I couldn’t stand the idea of you looking at me like that forever.” 

“Daniel approached you in the parking lot of the corner store.” Hotch stated calmly. “Why did you go with him willingly? Did he have a gun on you?” 

“He had a gun.” You told him. “He did have it pointed at me. But - I didn’t have mine. I didn’t like the odds.” 

Hotch nodded at this. 

“I didn’t want him to take another girl.” You added on. “I knew they were replacements. At that point, I realized what it was. I figured nobody else should have to die because of my mistake.” 

“Mistake?” Spencer echoed back quietly. 

“Not killing him the first time.” You said, knowing this was likely a bit too honest. “I should have killed him the first time he ever put his hands on me. I should have. I wanted him dead.” 

Tears leaked hot from your eyes at this, and Spencer’s eyes grew glassy - he blinked back his own. 

“You wanted him dead, but… did you want to kill him?” Hotch posed. 

“I don’t know.”

...

“That is how heavy a secret can become. It can make blood flow easier than ink.”

-Patrick Rothfuss

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, meant to function as an episode of Criminal Minds, so please respect it as such. Please do not ask for a sequel or a continuation, because there will not be one. If you are going to comment about the work, please comment about the body of what has been written. I highly appreciate reblogs and comments if you enjoyed it, and if you want to see more of what I have written for Criminal Minds, definitely check out my Criminal Minds masterlist.

[realbeefman]

Do you have any good house fic recs? I am Struggling with my search.

for sure! although Disclaimer, i havent been reading house fanfic for very long and ive pretty much only read house/wilson so far, SO this is more of a hilson fic rec list than anything lol

Warning Signs by out_there - oneshot, 12k words, Wilson-POV, set around the end of s3. SUCH A GOOD FIC i laughed so much while reading this. genuinely delightful. possibly my fav house fic i’ve ever had the pleasure of reading.

The Line of Thought by tevinterimperium - oneshot, 12k, Wilson-POV, set after s3 e15. THEEE classic fake-dating AU. this was the first fic i read in this fandom and it absolutely fucks. im a SAP i love a good “no homo but OH GOD THE FEELINGS” plot!!

Desert Mesa Motel - 8 miles outside of Kingman, Arizona - 12:03 AM by plorp - ficlet, 1k, House-POV, post-canon. this makes me BAWL. very very good fic but SAD. and DEPRESSING. will make you CRY/pos

How Not To Be Boring by fourleggedfish - incomplete/abandoned, 497k, Wilson-POV, AU from around mid-s5. if u like whump (which i absolutely do) u will probably like this fic. if u are squicked out by sex, u will hate it bc these guys bang 24/7. this fic had me pacing, glued to my phone, sick to my stomach, crying (several times), and obliterated my sleep schedule. i can’t rec it highly enough. every chapters includes appropriate content warnings, but some major themes that appear throughout are character death (not of main characters), the aftermath of severe child abuse, and mental illness. if any of these topics are a trigger for you, please don’t read this work.

Forsake Me Here by MonsterBoyf - complete, 8k, Wilson-POV, ambiguous setting. Wilson has intrusive thoughts about mutilating House. He tries to cope. features a lot of very graphic imagery and does an excellent but extremely accurate job of portraying an OCD-spiral that could be triggering to people. i LOVE this fic i think about it so so much.

An Inconvenient Truth by anathaema - complete, 15k, House-POV, ambiguous setting. contains the quote “You’re the suicide bomber of revelations” and is one of the funniest things i’ve ever read. plus the way in which wilson’s sexuality in this fic is handled is honestly so realistic and entertaining. HIGHLY recc this to absolutely everyone who enjoys hilson

the more it took away by scribespirare - oneshot, 10k, House-POV, ambiguous setting. Omega!House has his first heat since presenting. Alpha!Wilson helps him through it. I LOVE OMEGAVERSE AND I LOVE FUCK OR DIE AND I LOVE THE WAY THIS FIC HANDLES THIS IS JUST GRAHHHH. If u don’t enjoy omegaverse u won’t like this but i can’t make a house fic rec list and NOT include this one

Aftershocks by black_cigarette - series, around 125k in total, various POV’s, set sometime post-Tritter arc. this fic IS gen, but honestly, i didn’t know that going in and didn’t realize it wasn’t a slash fic until the very end. tldr is that wilson is brutally assaulted because house has been gambling with some unsavory people, and house helps him deal with the aftermath. this fic does not pull punches. its is extremely graphic and everything wilson goes through is described in detail. it is a messy story about recovering from brutal trauma and everything that entails. DISCLAIMER: there are sequel(s) to this series available on the author’s livejournal, but i haven’t read them and can’t speak to anything they discuss.

no need to worry (making up your mind) by scribespirare - complete, 25k, House-POV, set sometime in the early seasons. House lies about having a Jewish boyfriend to get out of visiting his mother at Christmas. Things quickly get out of hand. THIS FIC IS SOOO *tears into it with my teeth*. I love when they scheme together <3

[evilmario666]

Media that exists in other universes AND has been brought to ours, and has physical media, yet is in containment in an Alaskan bunker as they have intense anomalous properties:

- All or Nothing (Seasons 1-3). Watched it all. Episodes start out normal, but get more and more absurd. Asexual is named Don, pansexual is named Emil. One of the last episodes involves them going on a train, turning into heavy gore, sometimes photorealistic. Once they get out of the train, it returns to normal. Has a claymation artstyle. Got a rash while watching it.

- Sherlock (Season 5). I have not watched it. I found my long-lost friend who was kidnapped by Venti and the CIA next to it. The back of the DVD case states that Sherlock reveals his sexuality to the world, and Moriarty appears once more with his secret lover Sebastian Moran for one final showdown. I assume it knocks you unconscious or does worse. 

- Miss Officer and Mr Truffles (unaired pilot). It just kinda sucks, the plot is completely forgettable, I think they fought a bad guy who was stealing babies from nurseries to make a soup. The bear is voiced by Jerry Seinfeld. Has a mix of real-world footage and 2D animated cartoon characters. Makes your eyes burn and water. Activates enzymes for hair groth at an extreme rate. 

- Demian 2 (Hermann Hesse, unreleased 1921 book). It’s gay porn. It turns you homosexual in the window you read it. I’m not gay, so I didn’t read it. I only read it three times. You forget the whole thing afterwards, except for the fact it’s gay porn.

- Pokemon Z (GameFreak, unreleased 2014 game). The third installment of Pokemon X and Y. Zygarde makes an appearance. Sycamore and Lysandre kiss at the end, even though Lysandre dies once you collect all Zygarde Cores to stop his evil plan. Also makes you feel homosexual. I had a lot of fun playing it, though. I’m not gay so I wouldn’t play it again 

- Undertale: Jerry’s Revenge (Toby Fox, unreleased 2016 game). I can’t even go into this one it’s so vile and graphic

[linghxr]

My spring 2024 cdrama/cmovie/cvariety updates

I can't believe it's already been over 6 months since my last watching updates post! I've been watching more movies, and I'll also mention a couple variety shows, so it's not just cdramas.

Shows/series:

Some of these were mentioned as “currently watching” in my previous post.

《不良执念清除师》 Oh No! Here Comes Trouble A young man learns to use his supernatural calligraphy powers to help strange beings, with help from his frenemy and a young police officer. This show was like a breath of fresh air and very humorous. That being said, it was difficult to follow all the storylines. If you're going to watch it, I think you should binge it if possible. Content warning: Death, gore

《此时此刻》 At the Moment An anthology of quirky pandemic love stories, not all with happy endings. It's kind of like Love Actually in that the characters are connected across stories. Initially I didn't plan to watch because of the pandemic through line—I thought it would bum me out. But it didn't, actually. My favorite episode was Head of the Family. Content warning: Unhealthy relationships, sex and nudity

《隐秘的角落》 The Bad Kids Three kids accidentally film a murder and try to blackmail the killer, resulting in devastating consequences. I felt the first half of this show was more captivating than the second half—the second half went a bit overboard IMO. Apparently the original novel is way darker so…! But I still recommend it wholeheartedly. Content warning: Death and violence (but not graphic)

《沉默的真相》 The Long Night The murder of a disgraced prosecutor seems like an open-and-shut case, but his past reveals a much more complicated story. This show masterfully weaves together three different timelines. I was so confused after the first episode, but it all made sense in the end. I don't recommend binge watching it—I regretted doing so. Content warning: Violence, death, sexual assault

《双镜》 Couple of Mirrors A young woman's personal and professional lives are turned upside down, and she befriends a mysterious woman with a dark past. You have to suspend your disbelief to enjoy this show. There was a ridiculous number of car accidents! It's a GL drama, but if I hadn't know that, I don't think I would have noticed until the end. Content warning: Death, violence

Variety/reality:

《披荆斩棘的哥哥》 Call Me by Fire In the past I didn't include variety shows, but this time I thought why not? I finally finished all 3 seasons of this show, the male spinoff of 《乘风破浪的姐姐》 Sisters Who Make Waves. It's similar to an idol survival show, but instead of trainees, the contestants are established celebrities. The sets are always amazing, and I might have enjoyed this show more than 《乘风破浪》 honestly!

Movies:

《家庭简史》 Brief History of a Family The description of this movie sounded dull, but I ended up enjoying it a lot! I've seen reviews compare it to Parasite and Saltburn. There is definitely some similarity–it's about a well-off family that takes in a mysterious, quiet boy–but the takeaway of this film is very different. It leaves a lot of room for ambiguity.

《流浪地球》 The Wandering Earth After being on my watchlist for years, I finally got around to seeing this movie. I knew the basic premise: humanity bands together to move Earth away from the expanding sun. I wasn't expecting that it would focus on one family, which gave the movie a more personal feel. I enjoyed it despite not being a huge sci-fi person. Content warning: Death

《美国女孩》 American Girl A family moves back to Taiwan for their mother's cancer treatment after several years in the US, and the eldest daughter struggles to adapt. It's set during the SARS outbreak, but I don't remember that being very prominent. This movie was quite bleak and bummed me out. And I found the ending rather abrupt. It wasn't for me I think. Content warning: Illness, disease outbreak

《你好，李焕英》 Hi, Mom This movie was super popular when it came out. It's about a woman who gets transported back in time and meets her mother (who is young and childless at this point). At first I was confused about where the movie was going—it didn't seem to be building to much. But it had a heartwarming and touching ending. Content warning: Death

《周处除三害》 The Pig, The Snake and The Pigeon After seeing a lot of buzz about this movie online, I had to check it out. It follows a terminally ill hitman who learns he is the third most wanted criminal in Taiwan and decides to kill the two criminals ranking above him. Despite this, the main character is actually pretty likable. I enjoyed the movie despite the violence. Content warning: Excessive violence, death, sexual assault

Currently watching:

《火星情报局》 Mars Intelligence Agency This is a variety show. The cast consists of celebrities who take turns telling funny stories and making jokes. I started watching because my favorite singer 薛之谦 is a cast member. I was unsure about the concept at first, but honestly it's really entertaining!

《摩天大楼》 A Murderous Affair in Horizon Tower I finally started this show, which has been on my watchlist for a while. I'm only 2 episodes in—so far it's mostly been about the past of the titular murder victim. I'm not yet sure what direction the show will go in, but I'm excited to find out.

Abandoning:

《你的孩子不是你的孩子》 On Children I got through 3 out of 5 episodes before abandoning this show. Each episode is the length of a movie, so they drag on. But I totally understand why episode 2, Child of the Cat, was nominated for and won so many awards. The acting was really strong.

《汉化日记》 God Troubles Me I wanted to try watching a 动画, but after a few episodes, I wasn't feeling this one. Each episode is quite short, so it's an easy watch. I think it just wasn't for me.

On my watchlist:

《漫长的季节》 The Long Season

《尘封十三载》 Thirteen Years of Dust

I'm trying to be better about content warnings. But please note, I only included them for things I finished watching, not things I'm currently watching or abandoning.

[etherealinowrites]

chae’s upcoming!!

in no particular order, seven fics under the cut!!!

note- all the fics stated below are sfw and only include slightly suggestive themes

<<status>> 2/8 = completed!! 6/8 : on hiatus>>

1. i’ll hide you in my heart - lee minho was supposed to love you like an elder brother, you were his best friends little sister after all.

brothers best friend minho x female reader, forbidden love au! college au! angst, suggestive, fluff, wc- 10K+

progress bar - complete! [read here]

part two - [read here]

2. frozen feelings - felix wants children after marriage, you don’t.

boyfriend felix x female reader, established relationship au! angst

progress bar- 19% complete

3. burning embers of my soul - hyunjin was a fire spirited artist who had lost his touch with his art. you were a carefree young girl who once had big dreams from life. when these two souls who had given up on life due to the times meet, several fiery sparks fly.

female reader x hyunjin, strangers to lovers to friends au!, artist!hyunjin, college au, age gap!au (not a lot tho, hyunjin is five years older to her) fluff, angst, lots of complicated emotions and repressed feelings, emotionally constipated characters, oblivious love, slightly suggestive, swearing, implied sexual activity (no graphic smut), mental issues like burnout, gifted child syndrome

progress bar- 10% complete

4. till the end of time - you and jisung were never meant to find happiness.

or the one where you and jisung have a timer on your hands, and you are not supposed to.

boyfriend han jisung x female reader, established relationship au! angst, major character death, extreme angst! soulmate au! time soulmates au!

progress bar- 100% complete [read here]

5. your love destroys me - the one where minho falls out of love too soon, and regrets too late.

boyfriend/ex minho x female reader, angst! extreme angst! exes au, regret, pain, tears

progress bar- 7% complete

6. barefoot on clouds - lying to his friends was not an easy job, especially when he was pretending to date you. all so that you both could prove a point. but, would any of your hearts break in the process?

minho x female reader, friends to lovers, fake dating au! fluff! suggestive, highly self indulgent.

progress bar- 26% complete

7. you’re my carol- part three of its cold outside come to me - it was the christmas season once again which meant two weeks away at your family’s vacation house. the only problem? lee minho. your brothers annoying best friend who was joining you this time. whats worse? you both hate each others guts more than anything.

enemies to lovers, brothers best friend, heaps of angst, extreme tooth rotting fluff to make up for the angst, christmas themes, cliche tropes and moments, basically self indulgent, wc- 8K

progress bar- 10% complete

8. minho college au (in the works)

taglist is open for all!!

i hope my love for leeknow and the enthusiasm for the brothers best friend trope is not too obvious xD

[thegayhimbo]

Stranger Things Rebel Robin (Book and Podcast) Review (Part 1 of 2)

WARNING: The following review contains MAJOR SPOILERS from the book and podcast!

If you haven’t yet, be sure to check out my other Stranger Things Reviews. Like, Reblog, and let me know what your thoughts are regarding the show or the upcoming season! :)

Stranger Things Comics/Graphic Novels:

Stranger Things Six

Stranger Things Halloween Special

Stranger Things The Other Side

Stranger Things Zombie Boys

Stranger Things The Bully

Stranger Things Winter Special

Stranger Things Tomb of Ybwen

Stranger Things Into The Fire

Stranger Things Science Camp

Stranger Things “The Game Master” and “Erica’s Quest”

Stranger Things and Dungeons and Dragons

Stranger Things Kamchatka

Stranger Things Erica The Great

Stranger Things “Creature Feature” and “Summer Special”

Stranger Things Tie-In Books:

Stranger Things Suspicious Minds

Stranger Things Runaway Max (Part 1 of 3)

Stranger Things Runaway Max (Part 2 of 3)

Stranger Things Runaway Max (Part 3 of 3)

Stranger Things Darkness On The Edge Of Town (Part 1 of 3)

Stranger Things Darkness On The Edge Of Town (Part 2 of 3)

Stranger Things Darkness On The Edge Of Town (Part 3 of 3)

NOTE: If you would like to listen to "Surviving Hawkins," the companion podcast to Rebel Robin, you can find all 6 episodes here.

Synopsis: As Robin struggles to survive her sophomore year of High School, she becomes desperate to break free from the viciousness of high school conformity and her depressing living situation in Hawkins. To this end, she forms an escape plan to travel to Europe (which she calls "Operation Croissant") and becomes determined to get both the money for her trip and a companion to travel with her. However, as she attempts to accomplish these goals, she begins to discover things about herself, and the people around her, that leaves her woefully unprepared for how to deal with her situation............

Observations:

I've talked before in previous reviews about which comics and tie-in novels I've enjoyed, and which I haven't. However, the one that really connected with me on a personal level was Rebel Robin. Both the book and the podcast. I guess I shouldn't be surprised since this is a coming-of-age story about someone finding their own identity in a world that values forced conformity over individualism, and is also about coming to terms with one's own sexual orientation while growing up in a town that's deeply homophobic.

I should know: I lived Robin's story in my own way.

Those of you who follow my blog know I identify as gay (my username is literally titled TheGayHimbo), but I've never really gone into my own experiences about living in denial for years regarding my attraction to men (which might have actually saved my life in high school), how I dealt with homophobia and bullying (even as an adult) and how I tried playing the same game Robin initially does of trying to "fit in" to survive before growing disillusioned and staging my own rebellion when it became clear there would always be people out there who would never accept me as I am.

This book, and the podcast, hit a lot of personal nerves. That's not a bad thing because both were not only excellent, but also managed to perfectly capture what it's like growing up as an LGBT+ teen and constantly putting up with bullshit on top of that. It also does a great job encapsulating that feeling of desiring to escape the place you've been raised in for most of your life, and wanting to explore the world. I had the same dream Robin had as a teenager of leaving the United States and traveling to Europe. Unfortunately, it's only been in the last 2 years that I've finally made that dream a reality. Maybe it's for the better though since I'm a lot more wiser about the world than I was at the age of 17.

But I'm getting ahead of myself: Let's talk about the book and the podcast.

Part 1: Robin's Journey

Do you remember Mrs. Click's history class? Mrs. Clickity-Clackity? That's what us band dweebs called her. It's was first period, Tuesdays and Thursdays, so you were always late. And you always had the same breakfast: Bacon, egg, and cheese on a sesame bagel. I sat behind you. Two days a week for a year. Mister Funny. Mister Cool. The King of Hawkins High himself. Do you even remember me from that class? Of course you don't. You were a real asshole, you know that?.......... But it didn't even matter. It didn't matter that you were an ass. I was still.....obsessed with you. Even though all of us losers pretend to be above it all, we still want to be popular, accepted.......normal.

Do you remember what I said about Click's class? About me being jealous, and like, obsessed? It isn't because I had a crush on you. It's because............she wouldn't stop staring at you. Tammy Thompson. I wanted her to look at me.

Both of these conversations Robin has with Steve in season 3 are what make up a good chunk of the plot of Rebel Robin: Her infatuation with Tammy Thompson. Her dislike of Steve (a lot of it rooted in preconceived notions about him). Figuring things out about herself and how she relates to Hawkins and the world around her.

The way the book is written reminds me of the type of John Hughes movies that came out in the 80s: Sixteen Candles (which is one of the films that plays at the theater Robin initially works at), The Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, etc. All of these were stories focused on teenage identity, questioning high school stereotypes, rebelling against conformity and authority, and characters coming to terms with hard truths about themselves. The big difference here is that the book looks at these themes through a queer perspective, as well as the self-esteem issues that come with growing up in a homophobic environment.

For most of the book, Robin doesn't really put together that she likes girls. She's constantly infatuated with Tammy Thompson, but she tries framing it in her head as being interested in Tammy only because she's a nice person who's passionate and has a lovely voice. Robin also can't understand why Tammy would be interested in Steve when he barely has any interest in her.

When it finally does hit her that she's attracted to Tammy, she's completely caught off-guard by the epiphany since she's always pegged herself as a logically-thinking person:

This isn't something rooted in logic though, but emotion. I would even argue Robin's initial ignorance about her sexuality was a defense mechanism. Her whole conflict in the book is about trying to survive Hawkins High and blend in so that no one notices her. In the podcast, when she's talking with Mr. Hauser (who's one of the only people at that point who knows Robin's secret and figured it out before she did), she tells him that she deliberately makes herself average and uninteresting because it's the best camouflage. Those who try to be different don't last long, and get eaten up by the metaphorical monster that is "forced conformity" in Hawkins. Robin has seen that with Sheena Rollins, the girl everyone bullies because she's odd (which is sadly similar to the bullying El is subjected to in season 4 by Angela and the students of Lenora High School). Even though there are moments Robin considers stepping in on Sheena's behalf, she's either held back by her so-called friends, or she becomes worried that her intervening is just going to make things worse for Sheena (which, again, is similar to what happens when a teacher intervenes on El's behalf in season 4, and Angela later punishes El for it by publicly humiliating her at Rink-O-Mania).

Side Note: Whenever I see fans make stupid excuses for bullies like Angela by claiming they're children who aren't responsible for their behavior, and it was the lack of adults that's to blame, I wonder if those morons ever factor in how certain adults (like Miss Garvey here) enable people like Angela and other kids to become vicious brats BECAUSE they refuse to step in. When Robin is forced to take the bus later after her parents freak out over Will and Barb's disappearance, there are several instances (in both the book and podcast) where Robin is catcalled and harassed by other guys, and yet the bus driver refuses to do anything about it because they don't care to. "It was the lack of adults" my ass. 🙄

For me, growing up as a gay man who was also in denial about his sexuality for years (similar to Robin), I never had to deal with bullying when I was in high school. I was raised in a Conservative/Republican suburban neighborhood, and in a church that had an anti-homosexual stance, but I never got subjected to the vicious cruelty that Mike, Will, Lucas, Dustin, El, and Sheena were put through. For the most part, our high school cracked down hard on bullying, and I was never made to feel unsafe when I went there. I was even an AP student and never received grief for it, which is why I find it depressing when Robin tries justifying to Mr. Hauser in the podcast that she won't do AP classes because she wants to go unnoticed. She's lowering herself for people who don't care about her. I know I grew up in a different time period from Robin, and haven't had the same exact experiences she's had, but I have been in her position before of shrinking myself for others, and it is painful.

The irony is it wasn't until later in my life, when I finally accepted myself as homosexual and was moving through college and adulthood, that the homophobia and bullying I got subjected to started.

There are plenty of examples I could give, but one particularly disgusting instance I remember came from a Reddit user who intentionally went out of her way to target me on multiple occasions because I was gay (and because she saw me as an SJW) and did everything in her power at the time to diminish me, make me feel bad about my sexuality, and repeatedly tried to gaslight me into thinking there was something wrong with me. Unfortunately, she is still active online to this day, and continues the same cycle of bullying, belittling others, mocking people for caring about social issues, and then hypocritically positioning herself against bullying. Despite being reported multiple times for her behavior (which continues to be as bigoted and nasty as ever), the Sitewide Administration for Reddit has refused to do a damn thing about it (which I guess shouldn't be surprising since they've also kept up the accounts of users who've literally told others to kill themselves). This happened years ago when I was still new to the internet (having been sheltered from online discourse prior to attending college) and didn't have the skills set and knowledge at the time to deal with condescending assholes like her. I have avoided this user since, and I want nothing to do with her (or Reddit for that matter), but it's experiences like this which have hardened me and made me cynical about people and life in general.

On an unrelated note, it's why I have no sympathy for Angela when El finally has enough of her bullying and smashes her face in with a roller-skate. I don't usually condone violence, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't get some dark satisfaction in seeing this moment:

Cry me a river of blood and tears, sweetheart. You deserve it.

Getting back to the review, having read this book and listened to the podcast, I related stronglym with Robin during this. I also grew to appreciate Mr. Hauser. He's the one who encouraged Robin to be herself and not let the small-mindedness of other people keep her down. He's the one who supported her plan to travel to Europe (Operation Croissant) and encouraged Robin to find a companion to go with her because he understood that happiness and memories are better shared with others. There's a very powerful scene in the podcast when Robin is at a low point, having come to believe there's something wrong with her, and Mr. Hauser firmly reassures her that she isn't broken and that she doesn't need to change herself for others.

Hearing that, especially as someone who deals with anxiety and depression on a daily basis, nearly moved me to tears.

I wish there were others out there who had a Mr. Hauser in their lives. I met mine on Tumblr years ago, and I'm grateful to know her. If she's reading this, she knows who she is. :)

I should mention at this point that the companion podcast for the book only covers a specific part of the novel (i.e. Chapters 15-29) and they mostly focus on the conversations between Robin and Mr. Hauser that aren't in the book. They're deep conversations about what it's like living in Hawkins, how the books they're reading relate to their current situations, discussions about other characters like Steve, Barb, and Will, having to work in a rigid system that focuses on molding people into becoming productive members of society, and so on. All of it is wrapped in a mystery surrounding Mr. Hauser that Robin begins to piece together.

I read the book first before I listened to the podcast, so I already had the twist regarding Mr. Hauser spoiled, which made the build-up to the mystery feel redundant. I'm sure the podcast is meant to be listened to at the same time you're reading the book, but I don't think it truly matters which order you go in. Even if you haven't read the book or listened to the podcast, it is EXTREMELY EASY to figure out what Mr. Hauser's secret is. If you've been paying attention to what I've been talking about in this review, you've likely figured it out for yourselves.

In any case, it makes what happens to Mr. Hauser later all the more heartbreaking.

It's also the reason why Robin finally has enough when her plans get derailed, and she finally goes full Rebel Robin: She's sick of trying to survive. She's sick of confining herself to a box for people who either don't care for her, want to use her for their own self-serving purposes (i.e. her former friend Dash), or will criticize her no matter what she does. She also realizes that, for all of her scheming on Operation Croissant, it wasn't going to fix her problems:

I can relate. Recently, I got back from a trip to Italy and Greece. While I had a fun time (and brought back some nice souvenirs and pictures), the issues I've had for years didn't magically go away either. Running away doesn't fix your problems, and sometimes you have to face hard truths if you want to move on. I'm still getting there, and I'm glad Robin was able to get there as well.

The climax of this book comes off as a combination of 10 Things I Hate About You, National Lampoon's Animal House, and Mean Girls: It takes place at a school dance, there's a lot of wacky shenanigans that involve damaged property, a sleazebag who's been the antagonist for most of the story rightfully gets humiliated, and there's some kind of reconciliation. Robin doesn't exactly get what she wants (and her behavior is what causes her to end up working alongside Steve Harrington at Scoop's Ahoy), but she does get catharsis and a special moment where she can be herself with someone who also understands her. After spending most of the book wishing for that, it's at least something for her to hold onto.

Part 2: Robin's Relationship With Other Characters

We get to meet Robin's parents in this novel, who are both hippies from the counterculture movement of the 60s. Robin notes that both of them have traveled around most of their lives (which is one of the reasons she's inspired to create Operation Croissant and travel to Europe), they both have other hippie friends who've been on their own exciting adventures, they are relaxed in their parenting of Robin (to the point Robin admits to feeling like the adult in the family), and they taught Robin to question authority and not trust the government (which comes into play for her during her later adventure with Steve, Erica, and Dustin). However, when Will and Barb disappear, they end up becoming a lot more strict with Robin, confiscating her bike and forcing her to take the bus for her own safety.

While Robin is unhappy, it's understandable why they act like this, and it was absolutely the right call considering what was going on at the time. There's even a scene where Robin has a near encounter with the Demogorgon on the night Will disappears, and only barely avoids the monster:

On top of that, when her parents accidentally discover Robin's plans to run away to Europe, they're rightfully upset about it. They make a bunch of incorrect assumptions, but at the same time, this situation was avoidable if Robin had sat down with her parents beforehand and trusted them with what she was planning. I know Robin tries to justify to herself why she didn't, but even though I wanted Robin to explore Europe, I also understand why her parents reacted the way they did. Robin did not think all aspects of her plan through. If I had pulled what she almost did where I ran away during high school and only called my parents once I reached Paris, I know EXACTLY how that would have gone: Not well.

This book also reveals that Robin used to be friends with Barbara Holland back in grade school, only for them to drift apart later. There were certain factors, from Barb hanging out with Nancy more, to Barb becoming more of an overachiever in academics whereas Robin did not, but it wasn't anything bad that ended their friendship. When Barb disappears, Robin constantly projects this idea that Barb managed to get away from Hawkins and isn't truly missing (which is something Mr. Hauser calls Robin out on in the podcast). It gets pretty uncomfortable to read about, especially when the audience already knows what actually happened to her:

Barb acts as the ghost that's still in the room for many characters. Robin speculates on where she went, Nancy is later found sobbing her eyes out in the theater bathroom by Robin, and there's even a scene at the end of the book where Robin sees Nancy and Steve looking alone and scared. Even though Barb isn't mentioned by name, her presence is there:

I know that when it comes to the show, Barb's death had the biggest impact on Nancy, and it's usually Nancy's grief/guilt that gets the most focus, but I wish we'd gotten to see Robin's reaction to learning about Barb's death. It could have even been a bonding moment between Robin and Nancy when they were working together in season 4. Maybe it'll be talked about in season 5, but I'm not holding my breath.

Robin's former friends (Dash, Kate, and Milton) were a mixed bag. Milton was probably the one I like the best, but I wasn't impressed at him distancing himself from Robin later on because he was looking to date Wendy and didn't want people to spread gossip about him dating Robin. Kate was frustrating, and the way she kept trying to push Robin to date other boys (despite Robin insisting she wasn't interested) didn't impress me. Nor was I impressed with her dating Dash. To her credit, she does wise up and apologize to Robin later on, but I do find it telling that her relationship with Robin deteriorated and that Robin refers to both her and Milton as ex-friends by the end.

Dash is straight-up awful. I will talk more about him in the second post for this review, but his character struck a nerve. For all of his posturing about being an intellectual nerd, he's a sleazy womanizer (similar to Billy Hargrove) and a serial cheater. I loathe him the same way I hate Billy, Angela, and Dr Brenner.

Something I appreciated with this book is how it goes out of its way to invert the social dynamic with certain characters. I've seen criticisms before about how the popular kids on Stranger Things are always portrayed as monstrous, and the nerds/outcasts as the heroes, which isn't completely true. Chrissy Cunningham for instance was one of the most popular girls at Hawkins High, and yet was shown to be a sweet (if troubled) person. Steve, despite some initial hiccups, also demonstrated himself to be a good guy, willing to own up to his behavior and put his life on the line for others. By contrast, Henry/One/Vecna portrayed himself to El as being a social outcast growing up, and yet is not only a straight-up sociopath with no empathy for remorse for his actions, but ultimately the Big Bad of the series.

In Rebel Robin, Tammy Thompson is popular in school and has a circle of popular friends, but she's also a kind individual. She's repeatedly nice to Robin, and goes out of her way to talk to Sheena at one point to help her after she gets bullied again. By contrast, Dash labels himself as a band geek/nerd, and yet reveals himself as one of the most condescending, unkind individuals in the series. It's a major reason Robin washes her hands of him, and wants nothing to do with Dash when he shows his true colors. All of this adds a little complexity to the series beyond Popular = Bad and Nerd/Outcast = Good.

And then there's Steve himself: Even though Robin thinks about him in a negative light for most of the novel, I can only recall one or two instances where they briefly interact before the Epilogue (which is when Robin starts working for Scoops Ahoy).

I've seen fans repeatedly debate whether Steve was a bully to others pre-season 1, and the answer this book gives is a firm NO. Steve's shown to be self-absorbed and insensitive at times, but not vicious to others the same way bullies like Troy, Billy, and Angela were. He wasn't malicious, and he didn't go out of his way to torment others for his amusement. At one point, in the podcast, Mr. Hauser point-blank asks Robin if Steve's bullied her, and she denies it. Part of Robin's feelings against Steve are her projecting her issues on to him, part of it is making assumptions about him without the whole context (like when she thinks Steve made Nancy cry at the movie theater when Nancy was actually crying over Barb's death), and part of her dislike occasionally has some merit (like when Steve runs into Robin in the hallway during the podcast and acts like a douche).

All of this makes Steve and Robin bonding with one another in season 3 feels more meaningful. She gets to see a different side to Steve after constantly assuming that people don't change, and he comes to value her as a friend. She shared her secret with him (albeit under the influence of the Russian truth serum), and not only did he accept her for who she was and kept her secret, but also encouraged her to start dating Vickie in season 4. He's the friend she deserves to have.

Assuming that both Robin and Steve survive season 5, I'd love to see Robin fulfill her dream of traveling to Europe, and that she takes Steve with her. He's the true companion to have while they visit museums, cafes, the countryside, and eat plenty of croissants. 🥐

Overall, I strongly recommend both the book and podcast. Both are entertaining and quick to get through, both enhance the show and Robin's character while adding new details, and both are great examples of LGBT+ representation.

To be continued in Part 2..........

[rexsoka-monthly]

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[kickingitwithkirk]

When Reality is Worse than the Lies they told Me

Summary: You’re awoken by voices coming from the kitchen remember you’ve got company. 

Well, that’s what you keep reminding yourself to politely call those dumb as a bag of rocks, Temp V using fucking idiots and the druggernaut Super Supe they’ve got in tow. 

Part I Part II Part III

Pairing: Solder Boy x You

Word Count: 3716

*Do not read if you find anything offensive-triggering about/on/from The Boys series

*More warnings will be added in additional parts

Warnings: cursing, verbal arguments, racial/derogatory slurs, sexual situations, loads of marijuana/drugs, PTSD, sexist Supe, more cursing, physical altercations, firearms, knife wielding, still cursing, outdated slang, toxic male attitudes, lots of cursing, Soldier Boy thinking he’s the man and learns about online porn, medical experimentations, reliving long buried memories, possible death by chicken 

Square Filled: @anyfandomdarkbingobingo -” Who did this to you?”

*divider by @firefly-graphics

A/N: I’m using season 3 as a template for this so it will contain spoilers from the series mixed with original ideas.

A/N II: this part got way longer than planned but the characters are running the show so blame them.

You’re awoken by voices coming from the kitchen remember you’ve got company. 

Well, that’s what you keep reminding yourself to politely call those dumb as a bag of rocks, Temp V using fucking idiots and the druggernaut Super Supe they’ve got in tow. 

Laying there you can hear Hughie asking Butcher if he knows..their voices become unintelligible as another pain hits you, finding yourself curling up into a ball waiting for it to pass.

There’s a tap on your door before opening, “sorry to disturb but Hughie’s wonder..” Butcher breaks off shutting the door then he’s sitting on the bed.

“What’s it love, those pains again?” 

You grimace nodding.

“What you need is a nice cuppa. I’ll put the kettle on and see ‘bout nickin’ a benzos from beaver cleaver.” 

He gently squeezed your shoulder before stepping out hollars, “Oi Hughie, would ya’ put that kettle on the Arthur?”

“Put the kettle on what?”

“..stove.”

“Jesus, speak English..” 

“..I did ya’ fuckin’ git!”

It was good to know their banter hasn’t changed with all the shit happening. 

Rummaging in the side table drawer fish around for a specific bottle dry swallow a couple capsules overhear Soldier Boy loudly cursing at Butcher before the Brits stomping down the stairwell and out the front door.

Round to the Supe.

A knock and the door slowly opening interrupts your thoughts, “I won’t cut off your balls today,” you half-jokingly reassure Hughie since he’s always acted like a nervous nellie around you.

“Whew, that’s a relief because I forgot to put on my codpiece this morning.” 

Rolling your eyes at his craptastic humor shift to sit up against the headboard, taking the offered mug, “oh, this too,” he drops a white pill in your hand. 

“Thanks,” you snapped the pill into thirds so Hughie thinks you’ve only swallowed a piece with a swig of tea, “pull up a chair and fill me in on why the others are dodging my calls and where you two dumbfucks dug up portaloo boy.”

Hughie’s eyes got bigger as he sat, “Ahh, how much has Butcher told you?”

“Fuck all, so start at the beginning.”

“Okay, well it started when we found out about this weapon the Russians supposedly killed Soldier Boy with, BCL-RED..”

“..then Legend came in freaking out because there’s two..older ladies on the bed while Soldier Boys..” 

“..priming the pump?”

“That image is forever burned on my retinas. Anyway, words were exchanged and then we ended up at your door this morning.” 

You feel the drugs mixing in your system find Hughie’s fidgeting annoying, “stop wriggling like a fucking worm on a hook and spit it out.” 

“What’d you mean by recycling?”

“Back in the day, Legend kept a certain type of entertainment on retainer for his clients, referred to them as his Supe groupies.” 

Hughie still wasn’t getting it, “Jesus you’re thick..16 will get you 20..catch my drift?”

“You mean those women..used to be..Soldier Boy said they were like fine wine..that’s why Legend couldn’t fire..”

“Don’t think he grew a conscience, it’s Jewish guilt.” 

“And Phoebe Cates..Oh God..I just threw up in my mouth!”

“Bet you’re wishing you’d bought stock in barf bags right about now.”

Late morning

You're standing at the farm sink listening to Hughie trying to justify why he retrieved only three eggs from the laying hens.

“..scarier than that brain eating hamster..”

“..it’s a fuckin’ chicken.” 

“Didn’t you see the sign about Countess?” 

“You named that chicken after Soldier Boy's..”

Hughie’s mouth snapped shut as said Supe galumphed in a silk robe flopping on the chair directly across from you lit the joint hanging between his full lips inhales deeply and holds it an fucking impressive amount of time before exhaling like a dragon.

“What’s ball bag bitching about now?”

“Ya’ ex-camgirl namesake.” Butcher smirked.

“Camgirl? That another one of those words he makes up.”

You open a drawer removing one of the burner phones you kept around the house goggle SupePorn.com and turn it so the guys can watch the commemorative video created by SirCumsALot779.

The sounds of Crimson Countess’s fake AF pleasurable moans and squelching fluid fill the now quiet room makes you mentally vomit when you see Hughie backing towards the door and Butcher shift closer, warily watching Soldier Boy when the Supes hand shot out grabbing your wrist yanks you between his splayed legs.

Being in close proximity you can smell the musk he radiates makes you wetter then that dead whore could’ve possibly even gotten for him watch his drugga pupils eclipse the sliver of his verte absinthe irises leaving them dark like a shark.

“Countess wan’t just doing cheap tricks at Vought Land,” Butcher comments from where’s he’s now standing, “caught ‘er ‘bout’ta back door betty a’fuckin’ ginormous string of beads for that blighter there, been dropping coin on ‘er like it’s going outta style.”  

“You watch porn on that thing?” He curiously asks you.

 “Low budget VHS gone the way of eight tracks.”   

Sticking the joint back between his plump lips he takes the phone inspecting it, “how do you use this thing?”

Your hand quivers over the touch screen accidentally brush your fingers against his, his grip tightens.

“You break my ameche, I break your face, capiche?”

“Ameche?” Hughie inquires in dumb-bambi mode, “oh, the cell..why do you keep a burner phone in the kitchen?” 

You twist and he relinquishes his grip ease from between those thick, muscular thighs try to regain some semblance of composure reach in the drawer again to retrieve a Sig Sauer P220R.

“I’m a safety girl,” you reply shakily then clear your throat, “excuse me gentlemen,” handing the gun to Hughie, “in case Countess gives you any more grief over those eggs.”

Two and half weeks later 

“Get off my jock!” 

Hughie came in from the poach found annoying as fuck lounging in the recliner again, robe partially open sans underwear turned his attention to where the yelling came from, “who’s she talking to?”

“Your ex-snatch.”

“Don’t call her that, her name is Annie.”

“Annie musta got her rocks off pegging a..”

“Don’t you dare hang up..fucking Supe cunt!”

*Text>Serge, call me, it’s important!” not twenty seconds later you answer it. 

“What the fuck, why y’all ignoring me Frenchie..are you using again..okay, okay I get it. Listen, I need all the stuff Mothers got..don’t play stupid, I know about your little vay-k to Ruskieland..no, I haven’t heard from either of them..don’t fucking care what Mother says..Alors parle-moi en français pour qu'il ne sache pas!”

**Then speak to me in French so he don’t know!

“What’s the deal with the frog and slant cunt..”

“Please don’t call them that.”

“Whatever Monistat Seven,” he begins blowing smoke rings while Hughie continues eavesdropping. 

“Fuck Mère et son putain de putain de conneries mentales avec Soldier Boy! Je me fiche de la façon dont tu le fais, donne-moi ces fichiers.”

**Fuck Mother and his fucking mental bullshit drama with Soldier Boy! I don’t care how you fucking do it, get me those files.

“So what’s her deal? 

“Huh?” 

“How’d a fine ass bitch like her wind up with you fucking miscreants?”

“Y/N used to work for Vought, archives I think.”

”Think or know?”

Hughie tears his attention away from you, “what the fucks with the questions about Y/N? You’ve shown little interest in anything you can’t swallow, snort, kill, or fuck..oh no, you keep your dick away from her, she’s off limits!”

Instead of lashing out with his usual vulgarity and threats he says, “just curious. Seems like a flimsy reason for muff muncher to have recruited her. Gotta be more to it than she was just a librarian.” 

Soldier Boy's expression, not the first time, became melancholy. “From what I’ve seen of you idiots, it takes some majorly fucked up shit to break the trust between you,” referencing his team he trusted before Nicaragua, “so why’re they icing her out?” 

Hughie mentally kicked himself.

Despite an intense dislike of the Supes outdated attitudes; the overtly macho, arrogant, prone to violence against whoever disagreed with him or considered weak, no qualms in manipulating others, especially women, to garner what he wanted. But when he’d stop being Soldier Boy he’d open up..usually when coming down from the bennies and the booze loosening his tongue.

Conversations of the past, about his life over the decades in the realm of fame and a fair amount of nausea-inducing stories containing reprehensible deeds done with other famous persons, revealed he once dreamed of normal, becoming a father with the Countess and raising sons to be real men, whatever that concept meant in his head. 

Then outta nowhere he’d get that expression, leaving unspoken the thing that haunts him but Hughie was smart enough not to press his luck and ask who did this to you?

“Something happened with Grace, no one knows what, and Y/N left shortly before the group's disbandment in 2015.” 

The Supe went back to blowing smoke rings, feeling a nagging around the edges of his memories that’d started the moment you stood illuminated from behind in that nightshirt, doing little to disguise your sumptuous curves, eyes screaming recognition at not just knowing who he was but knowing him.

“If you insist on letting your freak flag fly, have Butcher pick up some bras ball wax ‘cause grass on the field went out with bearded clam,” you bark heading down the hall loudly shut your bedroom door.

He peered down at his exposed junk and..

“What’re you ogling nob gobbler?”

Six weeks later

The house was becoming a tinderbox.

Annie hadn’t let up with her IG posts after Herogasm and kept rejecting all of Hughie’s attempts to contact her, putting him into a funk. 

Mindstorm, a paranoid fuck from the go, had dozens of aliases and as many properties to hide out on in a three-state radius slowing the search for him.

And there was Black Noir, who’d done runner after seeing the video of his back from the dead captain's revenge on the Countess and not one of Butchers or your contacts had a fucking clue where the ninja wannabe had vanished to led to a mutual decision to lockdown Soldier Boy on your thankfully extensive property.

Of course when informed it sent him into the foulest of verbal tirades the likes of you hadn’t heard in years finally ordering him out of the house to take his frustration out on the old barn you hadn’t demonstrated yet.

He wouldn’t lay off the blow and it didn't help when confronted about his PTSD told Butcher, "okay, first off, I don't have shell shock, fuck you."

Yeah right, and you had ocean front property in Arizona.

Butchers went from obtaining a pound of weed to bricks to blunt his edginess and all of you had a constant contact high from his various combos of blunts. 

It sure a shit wasn’t helping the longer he was in your presence, the harder he was trying to get in your pants, pissing Butcher and Hughie off, all unaware it wasn’t because you had the only putang in a twenty mile radius. 

Thanks to one of the side effects from the original Comp V, the Supes constantly pumping out androstenone and it’s messing with your endocrine system to the point the specific meds you need to keep it balanced were becoming ineffective, hence the pains, and the copulin your producing is overstimulating his already extreme sex drive.

Fuck, your vehement hatred for Vogelbaum is resurfacing in spades.

*Private conversation sometime later

“Hughie, you wouldn’t happen to know who Mothers provider is?”

“As a matter of fact, I hooked him up with his current one a year ago.”

“I can backdoor and download those video files, maybe figure out what is in the physical ones he won’t send.”

You waited until everyone had turned in before entering your office.

Checking the connection, you insert the Air Pods and click the first MP4 file, the time stamp shows it was five months after Soldier Boy was captured.

It’s a routine examination of the unconscious Supe restrained at wrists and ankles, clad in nothing but a mask feeding whatever the Russians created to keep him unconscious.

You watch the video files progress over the decades from fairly placid routine examinations escalating to the sadistic testing of his physical resilience to external/internal damage.

A person thrusts a scalpel in his left eye and breaking free violently kills them before being gassed back into unconsciousness, a PP-19 Vityaz is fired into his mouth, the handheld saw with diamond blade applied to various parts of his body, acetylene torches left burning on one spot for hours, various corrosive fluids poured through tubes inserted down his throat, into his urethra and rectum and being placed, while conscious, in a container watch as the attached geiger counter ticks upwards with the massive doses of radiation released.

The videos would be hard enough to watch muted but the sounds coming through the Air Pods; his cursing and threats, sometimes turning to pleas, followed by unending agonized screams till Soldier Boy either succumbs to unconsciousness or is gassed down dredged up long-buried memories.

Vogelbaum standing outside the labs glass viewing window with the others..pages flipping on clipboards..chatting about previous results and what moderations were made for this round of testing..a tech in biohazard gear..your chests constricting and breath coming out in labored gasps turning into..

Spots exploded behind your eyes and your left cheeks throbbing like you’ve been sucker punched by an eighteen-wheeler when a violent shake makes you snap-focus.

Soldier Boys kneeling in front of you, eyes saying that, without a doubt, as hard as he just hit you confirms his suspicion..you’re a Supe.

“Ouch you motherfucker, what was that for?” 

“You were screaming the fucking house down ‘fraid you’d give mayonnaise eater a heart attack.” 

“For someone who thinks streaming is a fad, you've picked up modern slang PDQ,” you smart off rubbing your sore cheek peer over his shoulder as a bug-eyed Hughie comes in ahead of Butcher, carrying a large black plastic bag and gashed cheek, “fuckin’ hell, wha’ goin’ on? I heard’ya from the bloody car!”

You move to get up but your legs have jelloize so the Supe grabs your arm lifting up like you weighed nothing, “she must've fallen asleep working and had a nightmare, right?”

Holy shit!! You can’t believe he didn’t rat out you.

“Yeah, crazy dream..Countess had de-evolved into a T-Rex..”

“What’s with you people an’that fuckin’ chicken? Bunch of blooming nutters!” He glances at Hughie, “get dressed, gotta lead on Mindstorm needing checked out.” 

“Oi wanker,” tossing the bag, “that’ll have’ta hold ya’ over for a bit.” He points at you, “if you lay one finger on ‘er while we’re gone..”

“You’ll what?”

“Stow the Alpha crap!” You snapped at both fuckers, “I’m sick and tired of your pissing contest! He may be a manipulative bastard who’s done a shit tone of reprehensible stuff and so have you Butcher, but he’s never forcibly raped anyone!”

“Wadda ’bout Gunpowder's complaints of finger diddling?”

“I smacked the kid around a bit but never bad place touched him.”

Butcher opens his mouth but you cut him off, “for some unfathomable reason you believe I need protecting. I mean, why else would you’ve left bitch boy behind..”

“Hey, I’m standing right here!” You give Hughie the look, “and I’m gonna get dressed now.”

Rubbing your forehead, notice how clammy it is, “God, feel like I’m covered in flop sweat.”

“I can help you get clean, scrub your back or anywhere..” you interrupt before the Supe gets any further.

“William, he’s taken the piss.”

You come out of your private bath to find Soldier Boy seated on the picture windows bench seat between the built-ins using his eagle head knife to finely cut a substance on an antique side table before adding it to a roll paper mixture by his elbow then seals it.

“What’s with the,” he gestures to your t-shirt wrapped hair. “It doesn’t damage like towels do while drying.”

Sitting down you lean back against one built-in, “what’d you lace that Bob Hope with?”

Tapping the side of his nose, “guaranteed to kill a blue whale but mellow out a Supe like nothing else.”

“Seriously?”

“Mm-hmm, you need something to take the edge ‘cause wiggin’ out like that,” his jaw ticked, “you never stop remembering what created it.”

“Step one,” leaning over he snorted one of several lines, “Legend always has the best Star-Spangled Powder, not like that flake shit the limey bastard gets.”

“Step two,” gestures to you to do a line picks up the blunt flicked the old butane lighter he’s had since WWII lit up the blunt watches you blink rapidly at the burning sensation in your nasal passages and sucks in a lungful rasps out, “Step three,” catching you unawares he sprang forward nailing you with a shotgun kiss.

The dope's vapor hits your system like an aphrodisiac, all your resistance instantaneously dissolves and, once again, you turn the tables roughly knocking the Supe on his back straddle his hips and he smirks up at you.

“I do like the aggressive type.”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

He responds by tugging the shirt off and tangling his thick fingers into your damp hair jerked you into a bruising kiss that was all teeth and tongue before he's breathily asking, “is this why you had a falling out with Mallory?”

“Fucking cock tease,” you grunt out grinding your core against his hard as his shield member, “yes, she kicked me to the curb over my hair dying technique.”

“Fucking smart ass,” his lush lips move over your necks delicate skin, “was it you're being familiar with weaponry? Those booby traps around your property; special ops would be envious.”

“You’ve met my associates, where the hell do you think I learned..”

"..so how’d she find out?”

You abruptly sit back, “what game are you playing at,” moving to get off him he tightened his grip in your hair, “these last week's you’ve been driving me crazy like no woman ever has. I know it's something to do with these,” reaching behind a pillow he took out the pill bottle from your nightstand, “don’t know what this shit is but I know Vought pharma when I see it!”

“You damn well know Vought's got their mitts in everything..”

“..why am I the only one being affected by your tang without actually being between your thighs?” 

“Good night, Ben,” jamming your thumb into a pressure point he loosened his grip and you slid off him wobble to your bed not caring your hairs still damp crawl on top grabbing the body pillow curl up around it.

You laid there half lucid as the drugs dwindled your consciousness began humming that tune, the one who’s words you lost, that had brought you comfort after Vogelbaums tests on the car ride home.

The pissed off Supe snorts the other lines licks the pad of his index finger swiped up the bits left rubbing it over his gums sits back stares out the window puffin the blunt intending to ignore you when the tune travels across the quiet room triggering a long-forgotten memory from another time.

~~~

The bedcurtains open and the covers are flung off.

 “Wake up Benjamin,” his governess snapped at him in her clip accent, “it's 7:00 and your father demands you present yourself promptly at 7:45. Stupid child, you’re as lazy as those wogs he employs in his mills!” Her heels echoed on the wooden floor as she left.

Benjamin slid out his barely warm bed, felt the bitterly cold floor under his small feet, penetrating his bones to the marrow, whimpers crossing to his clothes chest and pulling out his thick winter undergarments began dressing himself. 

By the time he finished tying his boots the bedroom door reopened and he’s greeted by a smiling Mary, the cook's assistant who brought his meals every day.

“There’s my handsome young man, eat up before it’s cold.” She stayed till he’s done, chatting away about the latest household gossip. 

While Mary tries to stay cheerful, they both know this is the last time they’ll get to share secrets now he’s turned six and leaving to attend boarding school as his father did.

When he’s done, Benjamin's eyes fill with tears.

“We canna have that, spoiling those bonnie green eyes with tears.” 

Using a corner of her pinny dabs his face dry, “there, all better. Now, we're not gonna pretend you’re not gonna be sad, so when ya’ feel down, sing our special song to yourself, it’ll put the happy back inna.”

Holding out her hands he steps up on her booted feet and they dance, singing together one last time.

~~~

A bubble of anger rolled up from his depths. 

Where did she learn that fucking song?

He got up intent on beating the truth outta her saw something in his peripheral and froze, there’s an old photo of himself in a shadow box.

Lifting it off the shelf finds the other half blocked by a child’s vintage wood block sits back down removes its back and takes both items out, instinctively knowing they were a key in the puzzle that was Y/N examines the old block first, its colors faded with time, sat it on the table.

Delicately lifting the equally aged picture between his extraordinarily strong fingers notices the ink stamp on its back.

March 1

Vought R&D Laboratory

The Supes heart rate increased and not from the drugs, hesitant to flip the photo over, “suck it up you pansy ass cry baby bitch..I'm not a fucking pussy!”

In the photograph he’s clad in his Supe-suit sitting cross-legged on a colorful, cartoon animal area rug mirthfully smiling at a thirteen-month-old girl in a sunny yellow dress holding the wood block out to him.

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @b3autyfuldisast3r @lassie-bird @nancymcl @spnbaby-67 @leigh70

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies @stoneyggirl2 @akshi8278 @b3autyfuldisast3r @smoothdogsgirl @siospins2

Soldier Boy: @charred-angelwings @spnwoman @impalaspixie @globetrotter28

[ripperdoc-is-daddy]

Little Fish Pt. 1

Reader is a Beautiful Siren who gets in over her head with the Mysterious and Ominous Danger that lurks beneath darker waters.

PLEASE LIKE AND REBLOG IF YOU ENJOYED IT!

TW: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! READER IS BLACK FEMALE, Leviathans, Sirens, Reader has short hair, FISH PEOPLE, Frolicking, Shark anatomy, Bony Fish anatomy, Explanations of Aquatic life behaviors, Food mentions, They eat fucking fish, Pod Dynamics (Not Omegaverse), Crude Humor, Sexual Content, Suggestive Content, Ocean references, LOTS OF OCEAN TALK, Violence, Domineering, Power plays, Will get graphic, mentions of murking, I spent too much time looking at vids on fish, CONSENTUAL ETHICAL POLYAMOUROUS RELATIONSHIP, It's the ciiiiiiircle of liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiife. Soft/Hard Boi Sanemi, Kyojuro is a fucking menace, Tengen is Tengen, TENGEN'S WIVES ARE PRESENT AND HE LOVES THEM! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! PERMISSION TO REPOST OR TRANSLATE DENIED!

Pt 2 , Pt. 3 , Pt. 4

You swam about in the ocean. Your pod had migrated to warmer, more tropical waters to switch up hunting grounds. Swimming in-between your similarly aged pod mates, you issued a silent challenge to go into a race to the sea shelf. There were two males with extremely light, white-looking hair and striking purple eyes who took you up and torpedoed in the water towards your target. The three of you were neck and neck. The largest male had an extraordinarily well-built, lightly tanned, defined upper torso. His silver and purple bi-colored body resembled that of a whiptail thresher in the pattern. It ended with long sharp homocercal fins. The edges had tiny serrated barbs running up his dorsal and anterior body. His pelvic and pectoral fins were knifed much like a shark’s would be. His body was built for speed and agility. Short bursts of high-velocity action were his forte. Often, he would be part of the ambush party. 

The other male who dwarfed you in size was built stockier than you and the first. His caudal, pectoral, and pelvic fins were smaller in size. His green and white patterning resembled that of a juvenile tiger shark. The upper torso was more tanned than the larger male. His tail coloration was a murky Phthalo, hunter, and forest green with silver streaking across his body randomly. He could swim longer distances at a sustained pace, putting him in the stalking party when larger prey was found. His hair was whiter than silver like your other companion. His body was littered with scars, giving him a fearsome look. It didn’t help that, like now, when he smiled, he looked exceptionally unhinged. 

The two were your best friends, even if they had hatched several seasons before. The three of you just vibed that way. Darting between each other, the most prominent in size male pushed forward using his massive tail to disrupt the water in front of you, throwing you off your course slightly. You spun in the water but quickly fanned out your fins, allowing you to do a badass slow-motion barrel roll in the water. Righting yourself before propelling your body forward. 

You had dark sienna skin with close-cropped hair. Not wanting to deal with getting your hair caught in coral or anything else that floated around. You were of average built but had a buxom chest. Plump full lips and deep, dark brown eyes. Your fins were some of the most gorgeous in your entire pod. Purples, black, and gold resembling a lionfish. Too many shades of purple littered your scales with a speckling of gold and black dotting up your belly, giving the appearance of lights. You had feathertail-styled fins, which, when fanned, made for an impressive or intimidating display. All depending on what you were needed to do. Your position in the pod was to herd prey that you found into the ambushers. On occasion, you were used for the intimidation factor because of how massive you looked when on full display. 

The green-finned male darted up from underneath you, trying to knock you off course. You expertly evaded his attack, pushing forward with more vigorous thrusts as you were determined to overtake the silver and purple mer in front of you. Unfortunately, he proved to be the strongest, crossing the shelf and posturing in the open waters. His pose could only be described as overly flashy and highly flamboyant. You crossed second with the last member of your trio, bringing up the rear looking non-plussed. You slowed down behind the winner, reached out, and grabbed the ribbon he used to keep his hair up in a ponytail, yanking it and darting down towards the darker, denser waters beneath the overhang of the sea shelf. 

“Give that back!” He yelled at you. Gills on his neck flaring. You feign ignorance as the third member of your group cackled. “Shut up, Sanemi,” the first male barks out. “Make me, Tengen.” Sanemi dared him. The two begin to circle each other in a predatory fashion. You knew a challenge to dominance when you saw one. Rolling your eyes, you sighed, turning your body to face the darkness beneath you. “Guys, guys, behave. It’s not that serious.” The two men turned to glare at you. “Stay away from there!” your green friend warned. “That’s not our domain. You’d be eaten up, and our pod would miss its second most attractive member.” He stated matter-of-factly. 

“Uhuh, sure, Tengen.” You dismiss them and swim closer. Curious about the differences in the weight of the water. The water felt much cooler here and heavier. An unusual combination you have never encountered before. Above you, the two mers circled, watching you while trying to show off who was the better specimen to each other. A mock show of superiority. Ignoring their antics, you got close enough to touch the stark line of demarcation. That separated the boundary between the true deep sea and where you dwelt. 

You reached out to touch but stopped seeing something red moving about. It peaked in and out. Never appearing in the same spot twice, but it was captivating. Soon the red was joined by fluffy warm yellow tufts of hair. You realized you were looking at someone or something’s hair. You halted your swimming, entranced. Vaguely you registered that you needed to back up. A chill crept up your spine that warned you danger was nearby. Still, you could not break away from watching the hypnotic effect the waving tufts had on you. 

Closer you inched. Not touching the line. Keeping to your side of the ocean but feeling the dual pull to retreat to safety and to go forward eating away at you. You almost gave in to the urge to go forward when you felt yourself jerked back up harshly, painfully, and quickly. Tengen and Sanemi Grab your arms, digging their stilettoed nails into your flesh. You yelped, startled while they swore in such an amount you would have complained had you not been stupefied by the most beautiful pair of scarlet and goldenrod eyes. They held you to such an extent you momentarily forgot to pull water in with your gills and breathe. It was only when you saw the reddened claws that came to the nail bed of a brandy-toned arm connected to an immensely muscled forearm did you realize what had almost transpired and sucked in water. Thus, replenishing your oxygen. The eyes glared at you with pure malice, then disappeared into the darkness along with the hand that had almost dragged you to your no doubt demise. 

The two men didn’t stop swimming with you till you were halfway back to your pod. They released you and swam in front, worriedly biting their lips as they looked you over. You blinked a few times, getting your sense back. The weight of the situation settling into your gut. The moment your eyes met Sanemi’s, he exploded in a rage. “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT! YOU ALMOST DIED, DUMBASS! WE TOLD YOU NOT TO GO THERE AND WHAT DO YOU DO!? THE EXACT OPPOSITE!” He swam aggressively towards you, warningly prompting you to flare out some of your fins. He ignored it and got close enough to poke you in the chest accusingly. “Do you have a death wish?” he bit out. Anger radiated out from him in thick waves. You puffed up defensively, not wanting to admit you had majorly fucked up just now. Tengen watched the other, light-haired male rant at you. Steadily watching you deflate in silent acknowledgment of dangerous your slip up. 

Once you looked like a limp noodle, he swam over and separated the two of you. “Alright, alright, I think she gets it now. You can stop beating her. We got her to safety, and now she owes us a life debt. I’d say it all worked out.” He attempts to raise the mood. Sami’s eyes narrow at you, and he rudely swims passed you. Hissing and swearing. You rub the back of your neck and slowly turn to follow him. You feel a warm arm pull you up into stiff, thick pectorals. Flipping yourself over, you bury your face in them as Tengen swims forward, holding you. Humming silently and he rubs the little hair you have with affection. 

“He’ll come around.” The man holding you assures you as the sounds of your families can be heard off in the distance. “He’s still an asshole.” you lamented lamely. Trying to hide your bruised ego. Tengen growls before he speaks. “He was in a fantastic mood until you decided to be a complete and utter idiot and do the one thing we are warned not to do from hatch day onwards.” You groan loudly and speak in sync with him. “Never go past the sea meridian.” He huffs and glares at you. Not releasing you as he swims in between the members of your pod. 

As the pair of you swim amongst the others, you peek out from around his bicep. Some say hi while others stare in shock. The two of you made a striking pair, and how he held you protectively was sure to start rumors about your relationship. You rebury your face in his chest, not wanting to deal with the drama that would be you becoming the fourth mate of one Uzui Tengen. You braced your arms against his taunt abdominals and pushed off. “I’m gonna go find Sanemi and apologize,” you say dumbly. Trying to get away from prying eyes. “Or you could just agree to swim with me, and the ladies and Sanemi can come to pick you up later.” He eyes you mischievously. “Tempting, but I am gonna have to pass. I feel like that would get me in even more trouble.” you dart out of his grasp as he reaches for you.

“Tell that ass I said hi, and we are responsible for tomorrow’s hunting party,” Tengen calls out after you. You wave an affirmation with your hand as you head off to search for your ill-tempered companion. Starting your search along the more predictable reef crevasses. When he could not be found hiding among the anemones, you started probing in the eel caves. Still coming up empty. You grabbed a few eels and bonked them unconscious, taking them with you as you searched for your friend. What’s an apology without food, right? If you come across someone, you would ask if they had seen Sanemi, and for the most part, you were told no. Eventually, you started swimming towards the cove the younger members used to play in. Hoping to find him with his brother Genya. 

Thankfully you did. The two were both lying on the beach. Basking in the fading sunlight. You breached the water slowly and carefully, took aim, and tossed two eels at them. Smacking each guy in their gut with a 10lb fish. They oof’d and looked up at you with malicious intent. “See! I brought dinner.” You cheerfully countered. The smaller, similarly colored male mer beside him groaned at your antics, took the ill, hauled himself into the water, and swam off. Offering you a half-asses “Thank you” as he swam off. You crept through the water till you reached the shoreline and the tip of the remaining, still angry man’s tail. 

“So, something tells me that bringing you dinner isn’t gonna make up for today,” you say bashfully. Knowing your error and finally owning up to it. “No,” Sanemi replies monotone. You look up at him pleadingly. “Please.” You whine in your most pathetic voice. “I’m sorry. These fluffy red and yellow tufts were floating in my face, and I couldn’t stop looking.” You rambled. He stared at you, then closed his eyes in a sigh. “That explains why you ignored our shouting. From where we were at, we saw a red and gold leviathan tail. That’s why we grabbed you like we did and hauled ass.” the concern evident in his words. “We’ll be safe here, but we definitely need to be more careful along the shelf. Those types don’t cross into our waters often, but if that thing was that close, it could mean we need to move along and find new grounds to stay at for the rest of the year. “

You crawled up the beach, flopping down on top of him and running your fingers gently over his deep green-colored scales. “That,” you began, “sounds terrifying. As you both were pulling me away, I saw the most beautiful and amazing...” you trailed off, watching Sanemi’s eyes get darker as you complimented the man who had most definitely tried to kill you. 

Since you had hatched, you had always been taught about the three classes of merfolk. There were the dainty and waif-like mermaids that stayed in cold waters. Sirens like yourself and your pod stuck to warm waters and occasionally migrated to keep from depleting y’alls share of ocean fish. Then there were the Leviathans. Named for their extreme size and lengths. They were large, carnivorous, and capable of surviving in the true deep and at the surface level. Encounters with them were few and far between but often held fatalities.  

You nuzzled into Sanemi’s abs as you thought about the horror stories you had heard about Leviathans and how close your premature end had come. Your thoughts were broken, however, when your living pillow shoved some eel bites into your mouth. You chewed compliantly and opened your mouth for more after you swallowed. He rolled his eyes at you but continued to feed you. Once finished, you did the same for him until nothing was left to eat. 

Rolling over onto the sand, you squealed happily, stomach-sated and somewhat positive that your friends were no longer mad enough to attempt to drown you while you slept. “You guys can brag and say you survived a Leviathan now,” you said like the gremlin menace you were inside. Sanemi hummed happily as he pondered this new information. “SHIT! Tengen is going to take all the credit!” He exclaimed, turning himself over and pulling towards the sea. “Come on! He is going to take you out to be even more pathetic than you actually are, and I’m going to sound like a damsel in distress if we let him tell the story.” He complained loudly. You waved him off with one of your dark hands. “I’ll leave that to you boys. I don’t want to see people’s reactions to The-woman-who-almost-wasn’t.” you lamented.

Sanemi shrugged, winked at you then dove beneath the surface. Off to claim his bit of glory. Probably to make you look even dumber than you had been. In your defense, the other men had a pretty good lure if he looked like that. You were used to Mermaids looking gaudy, but this was different. The power that radiated from the eyes you saw had promised you a dark end. Thinking about them chilled you to the bone but also sent a more confusing tingle down your spine. You forcefully pushed the thoughts out of your mind and instead focused on absorbing the remaining warmth in the black sand. 

You woke up, and it was much darker. Not realizing you had fallen asleep, you stretch out and slowly return to the much more tepid waters. Whimpering as it stung your skin and scales initially with the temperature change. After a few seconds, your body adapted, and you began to swim back to your pod. It was late enough that almost everyone except for a few night fish would be asleep. 

You decided to dick around for a bit before returning and swam around the outskirts of the reef y’all would be occupying and caring for over the next 6 months minimum. It was lush with life and color, even at this hour. Fish darted to and fro in all sorts of varieties and combinations. Different types of sea life clung to rocks, each other, and other bits n bobs. You picked up a few pieces of coral, admiring their beauty. Seeding them into holes so that the reef could grow and expand. 

Time was again lost to you as you immersed yourself in your task. You had just finished setting a pretty piece of red coral into a new crevice when you noticed a distinct lack of fish in the area. In fact, there was a distinct lack of any life moving around you. Something that alarmed you greatly. Your eyes begin to search around you for the perceived threat. If it was a shark or two, you could easily handle that on your own. Anything more significant and you would need help. 

Off in the distance, you saw something flitting about. Winding and weaving with no rhyme or reason. Your head tilted in curiosity, danger sense still telling you to be wary. You kept your position as you watched the gold thing flit about. You could see bright red as it got closer, and the truth dawned on you. Quickly you darted into a crack in the reef that was just big enough for you. Apologizing to the denizens, you squeezed as far back into it as possible. Slowing your movements and water intake to cause as few vibrations in the water as possible.

It seemed like an eternity before you dared to move your head towards the doorway. Scared of what you would see. A hesitant glance revealed absolutely nothing. A few fish swam by hurriedly, and you sighed and deflated. Tension rolling off your body. Your mind was clearly fucking with you if it had you thinking a Leviathan would leave its territory and swim a decent number of kilometers away from the deep waters to where your group was. You chuckled to yourself, leaned back, and floated against some smooth coral. Closing your eyes in relief. 

When you opened them, you stared straight into those hypnotizing orbs you had seen earlier. Only this time, there was a full face to accompany them. Brandy-colored skin, full lips drawn back into an unhinged smile, and a beautiful face framed by a maned of blond and red hair. You couldn’t see much passed his mane except for deep sanguine scales streaked with gold as some of his lower body was visible. You couldn’t see anything passed his neck either. He was hanging onto the roof and leaning over to look at you. 

You knew it was a he from the deep chuckle that vibrated the water around it. He stayed staring at you, unblinking. You held his stare, also not blinking. Worried that if you did, that would be the end. A good, solid minute passed, and you whined. “Can you blink or something so I can blink? This is getting awkward.” The creature before you looks at you curiously and complies. You quickly blink several times and rub your eyes. “Aye, how do you hold your eyes open like that? It’s creepy.” You question him. 

His smile drops, and he stares at you with the most unimpressed face you have ever seen. You defensively ask him a quick “What!?” and wait for a response. When none is given, you huff and blow out irritated bubbles. “I should kill you.” a deep voice drawls out. Not as deep as your pod’s defensive commander, Gyomei. You’re brought out of your comparison of “who has the best voice” as your brain once again slowly registers the statement. “You could, but that wouldn’t be fun now, would it?” you respond with as much faked joy as you could manage. What you were not going to do was let on how terrified you were of something that could end you without effort. 

“It’s not about fun.” He responds bored sounding. “Dude, what the fuck!? Life should be fun. If you just end me, then your life will once again be boring and full of whatever it is you do over there on the dark side.” you supplied, hoping your bullshit was working. “I hunt, I sleep. Why should I focus on fun?” He casually inquires, pulling himself down into the cave. You could now see his muscular upper body. He was similarly built to Sanemi. Tengen still made both look scrawny. You made your appraisal obvious to go along with your ruse and also because you were shameless, and if this was the end, then you were going out being a bold, badass bitch. Not a chicken wuss. 

“I mean, if you never had fun, I can see why you would say that. But like, I’m here now. I can teach you all about fun, and you can leave me the fuck alone.” You did your best to look irritated, turning your head down and away from him. Your heart thundering in your chest, hoping the display of submissive indifference would work. The massive male in front of you laughed loudly. “What an interesting meal you are.” Your head snapped up as you felt his warmth around you. He was close enough that your noses brushed, and you gasped. Instinct taking over you, “Meeped” and struck him with the heel of your palm upwards. Gasping at your actions as you realized what you had done. 

Blood floated in the waters between you, originating from his nose. He stared at you, and you stared back. He was very unimpressed at this point, and it showed. The gills on his neck slowly flattened themselves, and you realized that he was moving in for the end. Throwing caution to the wind, you slapped him will all your might. “Look bitch, if you don’t get up outta my face, I promise you that you will have found the right one today!” That got a reaction out of him. His eyes widened, and he leaned away from you. Shock evident.

You flared up as much as possible in the cramped space and bared your teeth at him. A hand shot out at you and grabbed your jaw. Defiantly you raised your chin and shook yourself out of his grasp. “Bitch I told you,” you started but stopped when you saw him smile. You didn’t know what kind of smile, nor did you care. The only thing that mattered was that the monster of your nightmares, the literal only thing in the ocean you had to truly fear, was smiling at you menacingly. “You live today, little fish.” He said as he stroked your cheek gently with the hand that had grabbed you earlier. 

The Leviathan, before you released, you pulled out of the crevice. Looking at you once more with those predatory eyes, he pushed off and disappeared out of your sight. You waited a few minutes before you slowly peered out. Looking around and seeing no sign of him, you bolted back to your pod’s haven. Wanting the safety and comfort of your friends.

[destieltaggedfic]

Do you know of any human au's where Dean and Cas are raising Ben Claire and Jack

All three at once is not super common (not outside A/B/O anyway) Combinations of 2 or more of them (plus Emma thrown into the mix) yes absolutely

God Gave Me You – turningthepages   Ao3

AU.  Struggling with feeling a bit unloved by his family, Dean’s last straw is when his whole family forgets his birthday.  So he and Sam go away for a couple of weeks, leaving Cas to look after their 4 kids.  While he’s gone, Cas realises just how much work he has been letting Dean shoulder. (All 4 kids)

Word Count: 12k                              Graphic Sexual Acts

You get what you need – Banoniloni   Ao3

AU.  The first adult he meets when Dean and his son move to town is Cas.  When Ben and Claire are firm friends the 2 are quickly thrown together a lot. (3 kids)

Word Count: 13k                              Non-Graphic Sex

Play – AngelynMoon   Ao3

Nonspecific timeframe.  His kids are putting together a surprise for Dean’s birthday.  Dean gets Cas to help distract him so he doesn’t ruin the surprise. (All 4 kids + AU Canonverse)

Word Count: 1k                                 Non-Graphic Sex

Dean's Christmas Mission - through_shadows_falling   Ao3

AU.  Recently adopted baby Jack has never smiled.  Dean makes it his mission this Christmas season to make everyone in his family happy. (Emma, Claire, Jack)

Word Count: 4k                                 No Sex

Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers & Bastards -  A_Diamond

AU.  It takes Emma a long time to start to trust her new adopted parents Dean and Castiel.  She only cares about her chosen brother Ben, who they luckily adopted too. (Emma & Ben)

Word Count: 12k                              Non-Graphic Sex

Daddio - followyourenergy   Ao3

AU.  Dean’s been a father to both Claire and Jack for as long as they can remember, they ask their dad Cas if its ok if Dean could adopt them. (Claire & Jack)

Word Count: 15k                              No Sex

Bake Sale Blues - one_more_offbeat_anthem   Ao3

AU.  Wrangling 3 kids while trying to make cookies is not the easiest job , Dean finds. (Claire, Emma, Jack)

Word Count: 2k                                 No Sex

[augment-techs]

what i watched/read in january

Saint Maud: 5/5 Quite the parlor trick that I spent the whole buildup to actually seeing it believing it couldn't possibly be as psychologically intense and questionable as people were making it out to be and--what do you know? I was actually drawn in an surprised. Especially by the "demonic possession" and "angel wings" leading up to the final scene.

Grabbed: Poets & Writers on Sexual Assault, Empowerment, and Healing, ed. by Blanco, Moro, Moustaki, and Albo: 5/5 This was all very moving and left me with much to think about. It didn't just take points from the female pov, but also the male and--I think?--trans and nonbinary. The poetry in itself was a surprise, the essays and confessions something more what I was thinking of. It was hard to choose my favorites from the lot, but the poem by Michael O'Mara using Pink stands out the most.

Shades of Blue: Writers on Depression, Suicide, and Feeling Blue, ed. by Amy Ferris: 5/5 Okay, I'm not going to lie, I read through this entire book and while all of them were deeply meaningful, the one that stuck in my brain was the one that included a knock-knock joke-- "Knock knock/Who's There?/Boo./Boo who?/Just boo, you dope. You're a ghost." -by judywhite-- Which...is kind of horrible, and yet stupidly endearing?

Frankie Drake Mysteries, season 4: 4/5 Okay, I really, really, really wanted to love this season, which is apparently the last we're getting from this series, but, like, apparently they HAD warning that they weren't getting a fifth season, had time to wrap up most loose ends and STILL left us with this COMPLETE BULLSHIT ENDING?! WTF?

My Neighbor: Art Inspired by the Films of Miyazaki: 3/5 I mean, some of this was very good, but this was not at all what I was expecting and it was kind of a let down that I had to order this from out of state from my library. I thought this was an essay AND art collective.

Humans, by Brandon Stanton: 5/5 I'm always reading and rereading this, and it never gets old and is always giving me something new to notice and think about. On this particular reread, the photos and people that stood out the most were a small child in New York in a lion costume who was quoted saying, "There's nothing hard about being four;" then a group shot of two boys and a girl I think in the Middle East, one of the boys saying, "We let her pick," while all three smile, holding up a kite with Barbie on it; and then a picture of a man just sitting against a building with a really beautiful anecdote he gave about reading tarot cards to make a living in New York city wherein he believes in the card, but not in the way fortune tellers do, "I believe in them like you'd believe in a poem. I believe in their aesthetics."

Eat a Peach: a Memoir, by David Chang: 5/5 Being a chef and restaurant owner and believing in the work while also having mental illness. I haven't read this kind of memoir before from the Korean immigrant perspective and this went much better than I would have thought. Mostly because I did not expect this to be so FUNNY in some places. I thought it would be lyrical (which it was) or quite philosophic (which it was) but the book cover--which was beautiful--kind of made me think this would read like a Sisyphean tragedy. Which it really wasn't. And also some of his analogies--especially the one about a Hogwarts Culinary Dark Arts Class--are going to be stuck in my brain for a while.

Calling Doctor Laura: A Graphic Memoir, by Nicole Georges: 3/5 Oh to be a young queer woman at the turn of the century whose mother is almost certainly an untreated narcissist with BPD and whose girlfriend was most definitely cheating on her while she worked out trying to get the truth about her not-actually-dead father while sifting through very unpleasant memories of neglect and emotional abuse. Not a fan of the art style, but the story was at least honest.

Cheshire Crossing, by Andy Weir & Sarah Andersen: 5/5 TEN-THOUSAND blessings on writers who both admit to writing fanfiction on their opening introduction AND an art style where the cast was presented as 80% poc, INCLUDING Alice & Dorothy themselves, while presenting Wendy as queer. YES TO ALL OF THIS.

How to Be an Artist, by Jerry Saltz: 4/5 Actually a very good collective for advice and practice, though I might disagree with some of the rules...just...a bit.

The Wendy Project, by Osborne & Fish: 4/5 A story of young grief in the aftermath of an accident. A modern retelling of Peter Pan, but without the explanation of separating grief and breakdown from reality...such as it is. I was actually rather pleased to see the more "human" Peter ignored for the sake of the Wendy.

The Girl Who Married a Skull and Other African Stories: ratings run from 1/5 to 6/5 depending on the artist and story. My favorites of the lot were The Disobedient Daughter Who Married a Skull, by Nicole Chartland--which was beautiful and did NOT end in marriage, but did end in love--and Concerning the Hawk and the Owl, by Meredith McClaren--which was incredibly lovely and had very little NEED of words.

Kimi Can't Communicate vol. 16, by Oda Tomohito: 5/5 Best parts about this would be: -Tadano playing the sports festival and getting crushed on HARD by Manbagi, Katai, and Komi. -Maeda, the school's top sprinter, having a thing for GILFs. -Suteno not giving Tadano a single thought and getting his headband taken without Tadano even blinking. -EVERYONE (bar Komi and Manbagi) feeding Tadano lunch. -The first time Tadano pats Komi on the head = KOMI WANTS MORE!! -Return to the Cat Café, complete with Manbagi getting a little pervert tomcat and Tadano once again pulling in the prettiest kitty in the area by being himself. -Shousuke and his Dad have a Father-Son day--and it becomes very obvious that Shousuke totally deserves Hitomi as the only curse he'll ever get. -Emoi Awards. -Tadano saves Manbagi's goldfish. -The whole voting process for the Culture Festival--once more, Komi is made to be the golden idol. -The Rehearsal of Najimi's play and The Cold-Blooded Princess. -It might be for the play, but Komi finally tells Tadano, "I like you."

The Vincent van Gogh overseas history DVD: 3/5 I suppose this is useful in terms of understanding and reference, but I didn't much care for the directing and editing style.

Big Trouble in Little China: 5/5 I FINALLY get to watch the movie with the women that have green eyes sacrificed to a dragon spirit in the name of a dark sorcerer cursed for over a thousand years in San Francisco. I haven't seen this movie since I was in kindergarten and should never have watched it to begin with. It is infinitely more entertaining and unpredictable than most anything coming out of the industry today. I had totally forgotten that Samantha from Sex and the City and Steve Stronghold from Sky High were acting here. I cannot believe John "Halloween" Carpenter directed this.

Disney's A Twisted Tale Anthology: -What if Snow White Learned Magic: 3/5 -What if Mulan became the Emperor's Advisor: 4/5 -What if Remy met Colette First: 5/5 -What if Anastasia had a change of Heart: 4/5 -What if Jim Hawkins joined the Pirates: 2/5 -What if history wasn't Quite Right about Robin Hood: 4/5 -What if Eric met Ariel after she rescued him: 3/5 -What if Tinkerbell was working for Captain Hook: 3/5 -What if Naveen had to get home to Maldonia: 5/5 -What if the Triplets visited the Witch: 3/5 -What if Madam Mim and Merlin wet to school together: 3/5 -What if Belle had to take her father's place at the fair: 3/5 -What if Hercules's first day as a god didn't go as planned: 2/5 -What if Bambi didn't want to be a Great Prince: 5/5 -What if Aurora knew about the curse: 4/5

Komi Can't Communicate vol. 15, by Oda Tomohito: 5/5 -Isagi is introduced with a HUGE arc to become Student Council President -Isagi has poor communication/OCD/Extreme germaphobia and touch aversion -Ase presents and comes through as Isagi's Truest Friend -Tadano sees Pretty Cat Komi -Yamai gets Komi to play Twister with her...in the school hallway...and passes out when she gets EXACTLY what she wants -Hitomi initiates a Shousuke/Ai + Hitomi & Yamada "date night" complete with coffee drinks, prize games (Hitomi won Ai a stuffed panda) and a movie at the theater -Ai had fun~ -Isagi plays Rock/Paper/Scissors/Hammer/Helmet against the entire class and WINS -Najimi insists on Isagi keeping the hammer (she's too good not to have it) -The previous Class President is utterly TERRIBLE at her job -The class take glamor shots together in an effort to get Isagi to smile for her election photo; but only managed to get a very on point shot of her menacing Najimi (which works better) -Isagi forgot to choose her campaign representative, but as usual, BLESS TADANO, "Don't worry about it. We don't care who you pick." -Isagi wins after a truly heartfelt speech from Ase. -Time for school physicals; Tadano is a half inch taller than Komi (who is SO GLAD) -Manbagi stresses about her crush on Tadano -Komi and Shousuke are forced by their mother to invite friends to dinner; Komi invited Manbagi, Ase, and Tadano...Shousuke ONLY invited Yamada, but Hitomi being Hitomi invited herself and Ai -Tadano gets to shine as the most polite person on the planet by being the ONLY PERSON at the table to say Yamada Sanjurokuro's name correctly (which may or may not lead to yet another crush on him; bringing his fan club up to, what, twelve now?)

Komi Can't Communicate vol. 14, by Oda Tomohito: 5/5 -The only thing that keeps sinking into my brain about this particular issue is the entire fair situation wherein Tadano, Komi, Manbagi, and Katai get sucked into working at Agari's aunt's food stall by Najimi. -Fushima continues to cheer on Katai/Tadano from the sidelines (and me along with her). -But the kicker is Manbagi finally warming up to Tadano and Hitomi & Onemine & Sasaki & Sato FREAKING OUT -Komi is just glad they get along -Hitomi is glad that Tadano continues to be Tadano and does not understand the concept of ANYONE having a crush on him. This precious boy.

Komi Can't Communicate vol. 13, by Oda Tomohito: 4/5 -It was fucking MAJESTIC to see Nakanaka playing around with an umbrella after sunset like a gun, running aground of the Four Monarchs, an out of town city woman playing dead when she said, "BANG!" to be polite--and her running away as fast as she could with the Monarchs finding the situation quite interesting but the woman on the ground wondering when she could get up again. -Najimi sets up a horror challenge at Katai's WITHOUT ASKING HIM--but it's fine. His friends are proud of him and he is so SOFT.

Komi Can't Communicate vol. 11, by Oda Tomohito: 5/5 -Summer vacation wherein the Komi and Tadano family end up at the same outdoor game park. -Hitomi continues to be Shousuke's unwanted but entirely necessary cheerleader. -Komi unlocks a kink by seeing the rim of Tadano's underwear. -Nakanaka/Yamai is VERY encouraged by Sukida (and myself as well). -The Four Monarchs are introduced to the class and it is SO fucking funny watching them fail to impress or scare ANYONE in this new class. Especially Tadano; it is so awesome.

3 Generations DVD: 4/5 A lesbian, poly, trans family making their way through the son's transition and the messy secrets the mother left behind in an effort to get written permission to start testosterone. I'm a little sad that the main actor wasn't actually trans but...Elle Fanning is still Elle Fanning, so the acting was *chef's kiss*.

Pawn Sacrifice DVD: 5/5 I already wanted to punch Bobby Fischer when he was alive for being both a genius and the biggest fucking asshole, but Toby Maguire was a fucking majestic BEAST in this piece illustrating opposite Liev Scheiber just HOW MUCH chess players during the Cold War did not inspire envy. Every actor in this film was a blessing, but DAMN, these two are awesome.

Little Panic: A Memoir, by Amanda Stern: 4/5 Oh, holy shit; I knew the 80s were terrible for women, but to have an anxiety disorder on top of a learning disorder in New York's East Village at the time was nothing short of just AWFUL.

The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance: A Memoir, by Elna Baker: 4/5 This is useful in being a funny and darkly honest commentary/critique of diet culture, New York single life, religion, growth, and cues into life in-between. But All the way through I could not help but feel a little bit irked by the author.

From Boys to Men, edit. by Ted Gideonse & Rob Williams: 5/5 My fourth time reading this and it gets better every single time--especially in that these are queer men of all ages, races, and types, and just feels NICE. -The Story I Told Myself, by Soehnlein: inventing the self through playing with the little people in your head to make some pretty awesome soap operas -Sleeping Eros, by McAllister: considerations on divorce and brotherhood and a father who might have also been gay -Preppies are my Weakness, by Dolby: the essay that basically promises that those you're attracted to at ages 14-17 are Your Type (interestingly, for those of my mutuals reading this; I kept picturing Billy Cranston and Jason Scott, even though Jason would NEVER treat Billy like that). -Barbie Girls, by E.K. Anderson: Mid-80s realizing the politics of "romance" at age 11 and meeting a kindred soul at summer camp -Signs, by R.C. Green: exploring sexuality from the POV of an inner city, poc athlete that had a LOT of anger and internalized homophobia -And much, much, MUCH more.

A Gift From a Ghost, by Borja Gonzalez: 6/5 This is such a beautiful graphic novel for the consideration of how the future is a reflection of the past and how the past has little touches of understanding the future. Possibly it is also a thought piece on reincarnation? Dimensions and time spotting? Either way, the choice for the characters to be faceless and wit the looks of very pretty mannequins while building up the surroundings and wardrobe was MAGNIFICENT.

Change the Game, by Kaepernick: 4/5: A graphic memoir about the growth of a black football player from a white family who would eventually take the knee in protest to racist, sexist, political lashings. Not my favorite art style, but I can appreciate the lighting and line technique.

Goodbye: A Story of Suicide of Hailee Joy Lamberth: 2/5 A good attempt at humanizing and rationalizing, but for me, personally, it was a little too bright, shiny, sanitized...And not to mention a bit self-indulgent.

The Books that Changed My Life, edit. by Bethanne Patrick: 5/5 I have my favorites in the writers and in the books they chose and in the essays they wrote on them. But Gillian Flynn, Margaret Atwood, Peter Coyote, and Sofia Coppola's choices were my favorites.

Komi Can't Communicate vol. 4, by Oda Tomohito: 5/5 -Komi and Tadano try and say each other's first name...and fail SPECTULARLY. -They swapped kitty keychains (a tabby and an ebony) -Inaka makes her first appearance in a Subway parody -Nakanaka/Yamai is establishing itself through Tadano trying to teach them "Komi Speak."

[meditating-honey-badger]

Fandom: 911 Lone Star | Fic: Pretty Penny | Relationships: TK Strand/Carlos Reyes, TK Strand & Original Character | Chapter: 11/? | Word Count: 5747 | Total Current Word Count: 65056 | Rating: Mature | Warnings/Tags: Past Drug Use, Unplanned Pregnancy, Fluff, Angst, Canon Compliant to the End of Season 3, more tags will be added, picking a wedding date is hard, Stressed Carlos, engaged tarlos, Family Drama, Tarlos, Childbirth Class, Discussion of Birth, possible birth complications, Mildly Graphic Description, it's a bloody nose, discussion of past sexual abuse, Relapse, Overdose, discussion of suicide, Original Character Death(s), Explicit Language, Derogatory Language, Dad!TK, Papá!Carlos

Now that TK and Carlos are engaged, TK is ready to put the past behind him and move forward with their lives. But when he runs into a childhood friend, his entire world is turned upside down.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Six Weeks Later

“She’s doing beautifully,” Kennedy’s new pediatrician said. “She’s growing just as expected and everything looks great. And she’s got such a sweet mile.”

Carlos looked down at Kennedy’s cheerful face. She’d just started smiling a few days ago, but now it seemed her face was never without one. He turned his gaze to TK, who bounced on his toes and beamed with pride. Carlos was convinced no parent had ever loved their child as much as TK loved Kennedy. With every milestone she hit, TK was more convinced she was the most extraordinary human to grace the planet with their presence.

And why shouldn’t he be? Carlos certainly couldn’t argue that TK was wrong.

The six weeks since they brought Kennedy home had been the most amazing, exhausting, and life-changing time in either of their lives. Yes, it was rough; there were nights when Kennedy wouldn’t sleep and days when she was crabby, and nothing seemed to make her happy. There were endless piles of laundry, and it felt like the dishwasher never stopped running, but Carlos wouldn’t trade it for anything else. Even though they hadn’t been planning on adding a plus one to their family at this point in their lives, Carlos couldn’t imagine what they would do if she wasn’t there.

Well, maybe he could imagine a little. They’d probably be doing a lot more sleeping and changing a lot fewer poopy diapers.

But then Carlos would have never gotten to hear Kennedy’s sweet voice when she cooed for the first time, imitating Carlos while he sang her a lullaby. Or felt a ridiculously out of proportion pride when she lifted her head off the play mat for the first time. Or felt overwhelming joy the first time she smiled, and he was sure it wasn’t gas.

And he got to do all of those things with his best friend and favorite person. For most of his life, Carlos hadn’t thought this like was possible, and here he was, living it. Sometimes he felt guilty being happy about their circumstances, considering how they came about.

Finish on AO3

[hime-memes]

                • Books of Blood Vol. 1-3 Starters • ( Part 1. ) 

I love reading the works of Clive Barker, and since I was gifted a few of his works over the holidays, I figured I’d make some starters from the actions/dialogue of some of his short stories ! There is a lot here to sift through, but you have a  good variety to work with !                                                  - Potential for a part 2, maybe ? - There’s quite a few more of his works I may make starters for in the future if these go well. ( * I hope some of these starters pique your interest and you look into some of these stories. I beg you, if you love the horror genre and can stomach some really bizarre, gory and uncomfortable / heavy stuff -- you’ve got to read at least one Clive Barker horror story. * )    As always: These have been modified for cohesive and sensical use for the general RPC. Feel free to change anything within these that you see fit to make it work for the receiver’s muse !   Recommended For: Evil, Undead or Demonic Muses/Plots/Timelines.

Trigger Warnings For: Graphic Violence, Death / Murder, Blood & Gore, Heavy Horror Themes, Sexual Content, Cult mentions, Religious Themes, Drug & Alcohol Mentions, Politic Mentions, Gun Violence Mentions, Body Horror / Mutilation Themes. 

‘ Hell’s Event ‘ “ It was purely a spectator sport, wrestling with the Devil. “ “ You must plan your defense carefully; they hate bad logic. “ “ Democracy is still a new cult; it’s not lost its superficial glamour yet. “ “ No power for you, [ Name ]. “ “ I told you to look at me. “ “ The words are mere melodrama: two - dimensional, really. “ “ Don’t look back ! “ “ This is a charity race, of course. “ “ Cramp ? ... Is it a cramp ?” “ It was the sense of dislocation that accompanied fatigue, and over - oxygenation. “ “ Don’t touch me ! “  “ Run for your life ! “ “ Oh, politics is the hub of the issue, isn’t it [ Name ] ... “ “ I serve Hell, [ Name ]. And in its turn, Hell serves me. “ “ Behind you, one of the entrances to the Ninth Circle. You know your Dante, I presume ? “ “ Your wife told me; she was very informative about you. “ “ Yes. Independent. Very independent. “ “ If there was a sea down there, it was a frozen sea. It was death forever. “ “ God wasn’t with him at all. “ “ Even as you closed the door, you knew you’d made an error ... “  “ It smelt of goats. “ “ Play the rules, but play them to the limit ! “ “ They love you -- God knows why, but they love you ! “ “ Hell came up to the streets and squares of London that September. “

‘ Dread ‘ “ There is no delight the equal of Dread. As long as it’s someone else’s ... “ “ It was an age of gurus: it was their season. “  “ ... It was his bad luck that [ Name ] was the messiah he found. “ “ We met in the student common room. “ “ You’re in the ethics class, right ? “ “ Charles Dickens is a social analyst. “  “ Somebody ought to write a thesis on drinking as a social activity ... or as oblivion. “ “ They don’t even bother to mark the papers on that course, They just throw the papers up into the air: Face up, an A. Face down, a B. “ “ I thought you were either sublimely confident, or you simply couldn’t care less. “  “ Neither, I’m just completely lost. “  “ I think we should feel mauled by our subject. “ “ We should discuss what’s intimate to our psyches ... “ “ -- Sooner or later, the beast will come and find us. “  “ I owe you a drink. “ “ In [ Name ]’s world, there are no certainties. “  “ People are lambs and sheep all looking for shepherds. “ “ So ? Who cares if you’re scared of your shadow ? I’m not. I feel fine. “ “ We all taste dread once in a while. “ “ ‘ Beyond analysis ‘, my ass ! “  “ Freud writes on that ... “ “ Mother fixations don’t answer the problem. “  “ Damn the beast ! I don’t want to hear ! “  “ You’ve grown a mustache. “ “ I’ve got a house for myself these days. “ “ Where’s the holiday snaps then ? “ “ She won’t be coming back this term. “ “ Poor bitch, all she wanted was a good fuck. “ “ Oh no, she’d strip off her knickers soon as look at you. It was her fears she wouldn’t give -- “ “ What’s the bucket for ? Piss ? “ “ She’s an ignorant cow. She’s pretentious. She’s weak, she’s stupid. But, she wouldn’t give ! She wouldn’t give a fucking thing ! “  “ I got the inference, he didn’t ‘ intend ‘ to turn them into an animal ... and yet ? “ “ Jesus Christ, you’re in a right fuckin’ state, aren’t you ? “ “ Come on, take a hold of yourself ! “ “ The curve of the blade of the ax smiled back. “ “ There was nobody to hear, no one to drag the clown off of him. “  “ The whine of his blood is music ! “  “ There was pain without hope of healing. “ “ There is life that refused to end, long after the mind had begged the body to cease. “ ‘ In The Hills, The Cities ‘  “ The first week of your trip and you’re just finding out what a political bigot your lover is ? “ “ [ Name ] I am just about ready to take a hammer to your self-opinionated head. “  “ Some of the arguments seemed quite sensible. “  “ ... The arts were political, Sex was political. Religion, commerce, gardening, eating, drinking and farting -- all political. “ “ Jesus, it’s mind-blowingly boring; killingly, love-deadeningly boring. “ “ [ Name ] is a selfish bastard, and as soon as our honeymoon is over I’ll part with the guy. “  “  Some honeymoon. “  “ It was an unmistakable invitation. “  “ More fucking virgins, is it ? “  “ I’m up to here with churches ! “  “ I don’t want to see another church; the smell of the places makes me sick. Stale incense, old sweat and lies ... “ “ He has eyes you could watch forever, and never see the same light in them twice. “ “ Why in God’s name does a man as fine as that have to be such an insensitive little shit ? “ “  No use, we’re not compatible. “  “ Want a bet ? “ “ It was a golden foretaste of heaven. “  “ Now, she’s dead and sorely missed. “  “ You lack [ Name ]’s power to galvanize the people into action. “  “ It won’t be a perfect day for the contest perhaps, but certainly adequate. “  “ -- We’ve taken the wrong road. “  “ Cigarette ? “ “ Where’s your sense of adventure ? “ “ It set a scene for death on an unprecedented scale. “  “ Hear that ? “ “ Sounds almost like guns, BIG GUNS. “ “ I don’t think we should go any further. “ “ We shouldn’t be here ! “  “ The din of dying moans, appeals, and imprecations flooded the air. It was very close. “ “ If you won’t drive, I will ! “  “ We don’t have to do anything, but get the hell out of here ! It’s not our business ! “  “ Those are human voices. “ “ Priests. They need priests. “ “ It would not be long surely, before fatigue overcomes it; before it can lie down in the tomb of some lost valley and die. “  “ We’re not going to find anything this way. ” “ It was his deathbed speech, he’d probably been preparing for years. “  “ I’m fucking freezing. Are you staying here or walking with me ? “  ‘ Sex, Death, and Starshine ‘ “ She loved everything about him, at least - that’s what she claimed. “  “ ... She was a married woman, after all, even if she was an actress ! “  “ No gimmicks, no gossip; just art. “  “ She wasn’t much of an actress, but by God, she was quite a performer ! “  “ Faultless technique; immaculate timing ... “  “ The whole cast knew about the affair, of course. “  “She wasn’t that good of a deceiver ... which was rich considering her profession. “  “ God, we’re late sweetie. “ “ You are no more the juvenile lead. “ “ The secrets of his debauchery were written all over his face. “  “ [ Name ], love, you cannot be serious about these fucking hedges ! Tell me you’re not serious before I throw a fit ! “ “ [ Name ], love, -- Will you please take a cup of coffee to [ Name ] and coax them back into the bosom of the family ? “ “ It’s all right. Don’t grovel. I can’t bear to see a pretty man grovel. “  “ I just want to know who was looking in at the rehearsal, that’s all. I think I’ve got a perfect right to ask. “  “ I just don’t want somebody coming in without me knowing about it. Especially if they’re important. “ “ ... I wanted a word, if you would ... “ “ I think we must consider ourselves allies, though we’ve never met. “  “ Ah, the great brotherhood ... Makes me want to spit ! “  “ So you didn’t know ? I thought not. They always keep the artists in ignorance, don’t they ? “ “ His clan are never to be trusted, but then -- I hardly need to tell you that. “  “ Wife ? I’m surprised [ Name ] has a heterosexual bone in his body. “  “ I know, personal loyalties prevent honesty in these matters ... “ “ I’m only joking, bears can be charming. “ “ This job isn’t about succeeding, it’s about learning not to fall on your sodding face ! “ “ He didn’t like the rehearsal. “ “ Your show is very close to his heart. “  “ She had a face of transcendent beauty; a bone structure to make an anatomist weep ! “  “ He was capable of giving his brilliant beauty everything she desired: Fame, money, and companionship. Everything, but life itself. “  “ [ Name ], I know it’s a little late, but I felt you’d surely want to say hello. “ “ Dear, dead [ Name ]. “ “ We’ve got an opening tomorrow, and everybody has been kept waiting by you ! “ “ Last night’s run was a wake, not a performance ! “ “ I’m useless, aren’t I ? “ “ I could never get the hang of Shakespeare,  ... all those bloody words ... “ “ They’ll tear me apart won’t then ? “ “ I’m the one who looks the damn fool, aren’t I ? “  “ I’m sorry, I should have knocked. “ “ Of course, just allow me a minute would you ? “  “ You just can’t bear to have anyone else get any attention, can you ? “  “ He was summarily dismissed, his function as lover or confidante no longer required. “ “  Whatever you are, you’re no lamb. “ “ Most unprofessional of him -- but forgive me, an understandable ardor. “  “ This is frankly a delicate matter, the bitter fact is -- ( how shall I put this ? ) -- your talents are not ideally suited to this production. Your style lacks delicacy. “  “ The part’s mine. and I’m doing it. I’m doing it even if I’m the worst in theatrical history, all right ? “  “ I was not embalmed, unlike [ Name ]. “  “ We must make a choice sooner or later, between serving ourselves and serving our art. “  “ The dead must choose more carefully than the living. We cannot waste our breath, if you’ll excuse the phrase, on less than the purest delights. “  “ She’s in a come, but her condition is stable. “  “ You runt, you were screwing her - weren’t you ?! Fancy yourself like that, don’t you !? “ “ You wouldn’t understand, you’ve got your brain in your pants ! “  “ Well, you see, it’s impossible - the union strictly precludes this kind of thing. They’d flay us alive ! “  “ Well, it’s your funeral. Go ahead and do it, I wash my hands of the whole thing ! “  “ There may be some pain, which I regret. “ “ To play life, what a curious thing it is ! Sometimes -- I wonder, you know, how long I can keep up the illusion. “  “ Would you like to die, [ Name ] ? ”  “ I’ve made up my mind. All I really want is you ... I can’t have sex & the stage. There comes a time in everyone’s life when decisions have to be made. “  “ Frankly, I don’t care about this, or any other fucking play. “  “ Her cold hand somehow made the touch sexier. “  ‘ The Midnight Meat Train ‘  “ The city will go about its business in ignorance; never knowing what it was built upon, or what it owed its life too. “  “ His mouth was sealed up with dry blood. “  “ You’ve got a job to do, my man: They’re very pleased with you. “  “ Lots to learn before tomorrow night ! “ “ Serve us ? “ “ Every part of his body seemed to be weeping, except his eyes ! “  “ Are these really its ancients, its philosophers, its creators ? “ “ There’s a horrible familiarity about this ritual. “  “ The instinct to worship was moved. “  “ You must do this for us ! We can not survive without food. “ “ I disgusts us no less than you, but we’re bound to eat this meat or die. “ “ God knows I have no appetite for it. “  “ Me ? Feed you ? What do you think I am ?! “ “ We’re here, man, better take your place ! “  “ You shouldn’t have seen this, it’s not for the likes of you, it’s secret. “  “ We all die sometime, you should be well pleased. You’re not going to be burnt up like most of them. “ “ Meat’s the best thing you can aspire to. “  “ As it is, I’ll have to do away with you. “ “ You were asleep, I saw you. “ “ Concentrate on the door that will lead you back to sanity. “  “ You should have left the train, what were you doing ? Trying to hide from me ? “  “ My face was smeared with blood. I could feel it on my cheek, like warpaint. “ “ Didn’t close the door properly. That’s all. “  “ The meat wouldn’t have been of any quality. “  “ There’s no accounting for time in a dead faint. “  “ She broke his lower jaw and right cheek bone before anyone stepped in. “  “ Thoughts of failure, weakness, and death evaporated. “  “ It would be a criminal waste of my experience not to take on an apprentice. “ “ See, they do all this cloning stuff and it gets out of hand. They could be growing fucking monsters for all we know. There’s something down there they won’t tell us about. Cover - up, like I say. “  “ They got the evidence: they’re just keeping us in the fucking dark. There’s something out there that’s not human. “  “ It bred death, not pleasure. “ ‘ The Book of Blood ‘ “ Here then are the stories written on the book of blood. Read, if it pleases you, and learn. “ “ Most will go peacefully along lamplit streets, ushered out of living with prayers and caresses. But for a few, a chosen few, the horrors will come, skipping to fetch them off to the highway of the damned. “  “ It’s proof beyond any doubt, oh God -- how I wish I had not come by it ! “ “ The boy will survive, that is clear. “  “ His beauty will be gone forever, of course. “  “ From now on you will be an object of curiosity at best, and at worst of repugnance and horror. “  “ Our hearts are inextricably tied together. “  “  Trace, with infinite love & patience, the stories that the dead have told on me. “ “ You’re a book of blood, and I’m your sole translator. “  “ The touch was benediction. “  “ There was compassion in that look, and love. “  “ Oh God, that was the crime. “  “ You feel their agonies as if they’d been yours. “  “ The hallway beyond that disappeared altogether. “ “ A revolution overturned the order of his system. “ “ Every history had this particular torture in its history. “  “ No, she’s not all right. Nothing is right ! “  “ Today, there will be no such mercy given. “  “ Surely even the dead must know and obey ? “ “ I saw another sight in you: the lie. The absence of power where I thought there had been something wonderful ! “  “ You have no talent to commune with ghosts, nor have you ever ! “  “ The lies have been told, the tricks have been played. “  “ It was a curious sensation, an illusion of some kind. “  “ The world’s opening up: throwing all senses into ecstasy, coaxing them into wild confusion. “ “ We’ll leave him ten minutes. “  “ At sometime in its history a horror had been committed in that house. No one knows when, or what. “ “ There was a memory and a promise of blood in the air ... a scent that lingered in the sinuses and turned the strongest stomach.“  “ The voices of the dead are at their most shrill. “