#the detective has never been able to get him to sit still long enough for any more

[nii-chans-rabiddogs]

Weird Doctor

TWs: drugged character, restraints, muzzle. It's extra long, but I'm not sure where to cut it so I haven't. lemme know if i need to add any other TWs if theyre missing, please. Have fun <3

@cupcakes-and-pain @maracujatangerine

It feels like I’m floating in syrup, cuz everything is nice and quiet and slow, but it’s also too cold to go back to sleep. I wriggled around until realizing that I’m not on a bed and there is no blanket, sadly. I opened my eyes enough to figure out that the cement I’m laying on isn’t covered by anything. Why would I sleep on cement? It’s not warm or comfy at all, and I always trip over the cracks and skin my hands or knees, it's the worst. Wait, there’s a blanket, but it's on the other side of the room and I don’t wanna get up. I stared sadly at it for a bit, letting my brain melt away. Eventually I got too cold and tried to get up, but my arms shook and everything started spinning just a little bit so I laid back down. I huffed, and tried to remember what happened but I kept getting distracted by how cold it was. Why would anyone ever make it so cold? Why would you torture yourself like that? It has to be at least 71 degrees for me to feel comfortable and even then I hide under the blankets. It definitely isn’t that warm in here, and I wanna leave but the only way out is a weird door with a flap at the bottom. 

Actually, the door looks like those ones in movies, yknow? The ones for cells to hold the prisoners, all steel and whatever metal doors are made of. It looks really heavy though, and the room is pretty dark. I can see alright, but there’s no light coming in anywhere. There’s also a ring in the center of the room, which is a trip hazard. You shouldn’t put things out in the middle of the room with no light source, someone’s gonna break the ankle tripping on it. I wouldn’t though, cuz I never trip ever and anyone who says I do is lying and should be banished from my kingdom. Wait, I don't have a kingdom. Do I? Oh well. It would be nice to have a kingdom, just relaxing all day getting to eat all the chocolates and not having to do anything. Maybe I should start my own kingdom, but people say it’s hard. All you gotta do is declare yourself king though, so I don’t understand what they think is hard about that. Maybe they can’t make themselves king? I could make all the people kings, but only if they promised to leave my kingdom alone and give me chocolates.

Suddenly, the door was shoved open, and I closed my eyes against the very bright light that came with it. That was scary, it dragged on the ground and made a really loud noise that hurt my ears. I opened my eyes to glare at it, so it wouldn’t do that again. Oh hey, when they get here? There was someone standing in the door, with a weird thing in their hands. 

“Oh good, you’re awake. Let’s get this on you, I need to take you down to the medbay. You lost quite a bit of blood, and we need to fix that. Getting more is a pain, by the way, so if you lose any more I will drain you dry myself, understood?” They said, walking up to me with the weird thing.

I tried to say something but it hurt and I started coughing, which hurt more. I huffed, cuz I couldn't do anything else. The guy crouched down, setting the weird thing on the floor nearby. He unfolded the weird thing, which had other things inside. He grabbed what looked like one of those shock collars for dogs, but without the spikes on the inside. She- wait, is she a guy or a girl? I can’t tell. Oh well. They slid it under my neck before pulling it tight and clicking it together. Rude, I’m not a dog. I’m not even an animal, everyone can see that. Maybe they need glasses? The weird person was wearing a doctor trench coat, which is even weirder than a normal trench coat, actually. The weird doctor pulled another thing from the little pile that was already mostly gone, and it looked like an odd fabric mask.

He lifted my head up and placed the cold metal part under my chin, and pulling the top metal piece over the bridge of my nose. I tried to watch, but my eyes went cross eyed and made me dizzy, so I just stared at the weird doctor again. They tugged on it before clipping the two back straps together around the back of my head, and then making it really tight somehow. I winced and tried to move away but the weird doctor just yanked my head back and told me to stay still or else, so I stopped wiggling and glared at them. They started pulling on something on the side of the mask thingie, and then that side was really tight and I couldn't open my mouth at all. They started doing the same for the other side, and I tried to move again but it was hard and really slow, so the weird doctor just shoved me back onto the floor.

He yanked my hands behind my back and click-clacked super handcuffs onto my wrists, right over the cuts from before. I tried to pull on them, but it just made my wrists hurt really really bad so I just laid there while the weird doctor went out past the door. It was still cold, but now it was worse cuz i can’t move and everything hurts. Weird Doctor dragged in a moving bed, like the ones in hospitals for patients. Weird, a doctor would never let it get this cold. I’ve never seen a doctor before so I’m not sure. Or a hospital. Movies show them all the time, and they always seem really loud with everyone yelling and weird machines beeping or screaming. Maybe Weird Doctor is a worker for a quiet hospital? Quiet hospitals seem like they would be more secret-ier, so they have to be super secret and make sure nobody tells.

“Alright, runt. I’m going to lift you and if you kick me, I will break your ankle. Behave.” 

That was the only warning I got before Weird Doctor lifted me up in the princess carry and set me down on the moving bed. I wanted to kick him but it felt like I was gonna throw up and I didn't wanna do that. I can’t even open my mouth at all, and I didn't wanna have to swallow puke. That’d be really gross and icky. I jerked when my wrists got crushed under me, and it felt like someone lit them on fire so I rolled onto my side. I took a deep breath, but it didn’t make me feel any better, and nothing made any more sense. Hopefully Weird Doctor could fix my wrists, and maybe give me some chocolate. I’m really hungry, but I can't ask for anything cuz my throat hurts, and the mask keeps my mouth clamped shut. 

Weird doctor started pushing the moving bed out of the dark room, and out into the hallway. I didn’t look very different, but there are lights which is nice. No one will trip, cuz now they can see the ground. Unless they’re distracted, like the one time Detective walked into a door while reading a case paper. He dropped like he was shot too, which was funny cuz he cussed like a sailor, whatever that means. I heard Ms. Secretary say that to someone, but I'm not sure what it means. He did cuss a lot though, and he said I shouldn’t repeat any of it to anyone who looked like a reporter.

We passed by some other rooms, but they all had the same type of door, so I couldn’t see in. I heard something whimpering in one of them, maybe a dog? That makes me sad cuz doggies are really nice and fun to play with, they shouldn’t be hurt. Maybe if I ask really nicely, Weird Doctor will help them too? We passed more doors, and I could hear yelling from some of them, which was scary. I don’t like when people yell, cuz they get really loud and mean and scary. Weird Doctor just kept pushing the moving bed along, and the yelling went away. Weird Doctor is kinda nice, but I don’t like the super-cuffs cuz they hurt my wrists more, or the mask cuz i cant open my mouth at all, or it’ll pull on my nose and make that hurt too. Maybe if I was good, Weird Doctor would get rid of them? And, and maybe if i was really super good i’d get chocolates and something to drink. My throat felt really dry and scratchy, and that was worse than it hurting cuz I can’t scratch my throat. 

Weird Doctor walked us around a corner, and suddenly there was an old elevator, like the ones in the scary movies. It looked a little different though, cuz there’s red blotches everywhere and I thought rust was orange. Maybe rust gets darker the longer it's there? The elevator jerked, and suddenly it felt like I was climbing but without actually doing anything. It was cool, but also made me feel sick again, so I ignored it and listened to the music that was playing from somewhere. IT was really nice and calming and made me feel sleepy again, but I don’t think Weird Doctor would like it if I fell asleep again. The elevator dinged, and Weird Doctor pushed the moving bed out of the doors. The walls were really bright, and they were white. I was right, this is a hospital! But it's a quiet hospital, cuz I don't hear anyone yelling, and nothing is beeping. It’s really nice. They pushed the moving bed really, really close to another bed, and lifted me onto that one instead. Why would they do that? The other bed was just fine. Probably a Quiet hospital thing. Weird Doctor undid the super-cuffs, but then they rolled me onto my back just to strap my wrists down to the bed. This is a little unnecessary, I couldn’t do anything before, so what’s the difference? They walked off, so I just laid on my back and rolled my head to watch them. Weird Doctor pulled out a tall, rolling thingie and hooked a red bag to it. 

They dragged it over to me, and shoved a needle into my arm. I huffed at the prick, but then the tube it was connected to started to fill with the red stuff. It looked really super familiar but I can’t remember. It was definitely a hospital thing though, but usually the bags are clear. Maybe I get to have a special bag cuz I'm a special boy. I’m the specialiest of boys, so that makes sense. Weird Doctor kept walking around and grabbing things and setting them on the table right next to the bed. I didn’t see that, maybe it's to hold all the chocolates and medicine things Weird Doctor is setting down. They need to make sure to leave enough room for the chocolates, though, or else I’ll have to beat them up. Chocolates are the most important-y things ever. 

I blinked slowly as Weird Doctor started filling needles with something, but it’s getting hard to stay awake cuz it's warm. The heat made me tired, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Hopefully Weird Doctor wouldn’t be mad at me, but they also never said anything about not falling asleep, I think. They’ve been nice so far though, cuz they haven’t yelled at me at all. Still don’t like the mask thing, so he’s not the nicest but he’s nice enough. I rolled my head over t o look at the ceiling. It was a pretty grey color, and I stared at it while falling asleep. Blue would be prettier though, I think.

[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part 1

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none for this chapter. Masterlist of warnings overarching the series

A/N: Hello! If you’re here then there’s probably something wrong with you too, so let’s be friends. I haven’t been able to write anything lately until I saw the latest Dune movie and then all of my thoughts became dedicated to Feyd-Rautha. I must get these thoughts out. Help. Me.

“Chin up.”

Your mother brushes your hair back, bronze, like hers, and lifts your chin. Her gaze is critical. You stare back, thinking only of the things that she will find fault in you. An endless amount, you muse. The slightest flicker of expression on Lady Jessica’s face informs you that she suspects what you’re thinking. Your teeth grit.

“Must you do that?” You hiss through your painted lips. The servants have dressed you specially for the occasion. A floor-length black dress and, settled on your shoulders, a red cape clasped together with the House of Atreides insignia.

Jessica withdraws her hand. Your mother radiates femininity and power, a feat you’ve yet reached. Even the cool way in which she regards you drips with regality.

“Do what?” She asks, feigning innocence.

“Don’t make me say it.”

Jessica’s blue eyes harden. “You don’t have to, daughter. It’s plain enough.”

Mother and daughter stare at one another.

She tried to teach you the ways of the Bene Gesserits, but you failed to take to it. You were too expressive, too…volatile. You struggled to detect the slightest change in voice, you could never sit still long enough to study, and your facial features always betrayed you. The only aspect you succeeded in was combat — there was no need to mask your feelings, your thoughts, able to just completely lend yourself to the blade.

But it wasn’t enough.

“You’re fortunate the Reverend Mother has chosen to see through with this arrangement,” Jessica all but snarls. “There’s hope for you still, in form of an heir.”

The Kwisatz Haderach.

The only reason your mother still spoke to you, affords you any attention at all. The fact that you’ve been painstakingly bred to produce him: a Bene Gesserit of male origin, capable of accessing the memories of his ancestors and see through time and space itself.

A terrible mantle for an unborn child.

In the black of night, you sometimes lay your hand on your abdomen and utter apologies to the egg nestled in your ovary; burdened with horrible purpose. If only you could avoid its fate. But you were not even in control of your own.

“I want to stay here,” you plea finally, pitifully.

Jessica steps away from you, brushes off her skirt. “You know that you cannot.”

“I can help Father,” you insist. “You know that he worries about gaining the approval of the Fremen. I can —”

“Enough!” The Voice. It snaps your mouth shut and renders you mute. “This is bigger than both of us.” Jessica snatches your upper arm, pulls you close enough to feel the heat of her anger. “Your father wanted a son. A heir. But it was my duty to produce a daughter. I ignored the pleas of your father because I understand what it is to serve. Don’t make me regret my decision.”

You swallow your disgust, though it lingers like a foul taste on your tongue.

This isn’t the first time that your mother has told you this. Nor did you think it would be the last.

Perhaps making a home among your enemies would be better than staying here among family.

“Fine,” you say. You wrench your arm from her grasp then turn away. It’s futile, you know the heighliner will be here soon to whisk you away, but you can’t stand to be in the presence of your mother any longer. Fortunately she lets you go.

You’re not even aware of where your feet are taking you until the familiar sound of the baliset meets your ears. Gurney rests lazily on the ground in the massive corridor, back against the wall and string instrument in his scarred hands. He doesn’t look at you as you approach nor when you collapse down beside him.

Usually Gurney’s situationally appropriate songs bring you a modicum of comfort, but today it seems more ominous than insightful.

“I won’t miss your singing,” you say.

He stops playing. “You jest.”

Playfully, you crack open one eye and peer at his baffled expression. You try not to laugh. “I don’t.” A sigh escapes your mouth then, and you slump further down, uncaring if you rumple your gown. “I will, however, miss the singer.”

“Don’t bother appealing to an old man like me. It won’t get you anywhere.”

“Hm,” is all you say, lost in thought.

Gurney sets the baliset to the side. His hand finds your knee and he squeezes. “You will be fine, Lady Y/N. I’ve taught you well.”

“Not even what you’ve taught me will suffice for what I’m up against.”

“Nonsense.”

Both eyes open now, you stare pleadingly at the swordsmaster. ���Just come with me. Please.”

It’s Gurney’s turn to sigh. With a groan he heaves himself to his feet and offers you a hand. “You know that I can’t,” he murmurs.

His loyalty to your father doesn’t extend to you.

He is Leto Atreides, Duke of Arrakis, after all. And you are just his daughter. A pawn. A womb and nothing more.

You reach out to ghost your fingers over the scar on Gurney’s cheek. “Tell me about them.”

The Harkonnens.

“There’s nothing you don’t already know or haven’t learned from the filmbooks,” Gurney says to you in a terribly soft voice. It’s unfitting of the great soldier. “They are a cruel people. Do not trust them.”

You nod, irrationally devastated that your final plea to Gurney did not work. But his words were not anything new.

Nothing you learned about the Harkonnens has been pleasant — from their oppressive rule and misogynistic society down to their industrialized homeworld. Your chest aches.

First you were forced to leave the lush beauty of Caladan for Arrakis. You had even grown admittedly fond of the desert planet, just to yet again be snatched from another home.

“Thank you, Gurney. For everything.”

He dips his chin in acknowledgment, then holds out his arm for you to take.

Gurney has been like a second father to you over the years. While Leto was out securing political alliances and holding meetings, it was Gurney who kept you company. He aided in your combat training and believed in you when no one else did. To lose him would be to lose a great friend, indeed.

By the time you return to the antechamber where you’d been, Leto has arrived. He looks as cunning and handsome as ever, and the smile he flashes you is enough to cut you to the bone.

If what Jessica said was true about your father wanting a son and being sorrowful he did not get one, you would never know. He has only ever made you feel loved.

“My beautiful daughter,” he greets you. He smells wonderful. The same way he did all of those years ago when he would tell you stories of your grandfather and tuck you into bed, his beard tickling your cheek.

You breathe him in for one of the last times. “Hello, father.”

“You look marvelous,” he says. His smile falters slightly. “Are you ready? I wanted to ensure that you’ve said your goodbyes before we leave.”

Bitterly, you think, Before I leave. Everyone else will return to Arrakis and you will be moored on Giedi Prime, married to a bloodthirsty monster and forced to grow round with his child.

The thought makes your knees tremble.

The Harkonnens controlled the fiefdom of Arrakis before your family and were unbelievably outraged that it, and the flow of spice, had been stolen from them. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what your reception on their planet will be like. It’s any luck if you don’t get slaughtered upon arrival.

Especially since the Baron’s nephew, the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha — your betrothed — was known for his brutal nature. You hoped stupidly that the arrangement of marriage and promise of an heir would be enough to keep you alive.

At least for awhile.

Feyd-Rautha killed his own mother. Who knew what the status of wife meant to him?

“I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” you answer Leto. He squeezes your hand.

You hug Gurney goodbye then board onto the heighliner after your parents. It’s difficult to suppress the tears threatening to fall as the ship takes off in a flurry of sand and departs.

Normally you’d be completely enraptured with the endless golden dunes, but today you stay rooted to your seat and refrain from crying.

The flight to Giedi Prime happens much too quickly for your liking. Already your heart is in your throat, hammering out your nerves in a steady rhythm.

The view from your seat reveals the strange nature of your new home — a black sun. Never again will you see the stretch of blue sky from Caladan or feel the formidable heat of Arrakis. The entire world outside the ship stood in sharp black and white contrast, all color drained from the surroundings and its people.

You spy hoards of Harkonnens gathering beyond the ship, awaiting the arrival of the na-Baron’s wife and their future Baroness.

Your stomach churns. How could you ever lead such ugly, wicked people?

Jessica’s voice engulfs you. “Chin up,” she says again to your dismay. “You mustn’t show any weakness. Not here.”

You raise your chin the slightest amount. Jessica nods stiffly in approval, and it’s in that moment you understand that your mother’s harshness has been preparing you for this. While you hardly feel the urge to forgive her, an odd sense of calm washes over you.

You are an Atreides. And you always will be.

No one can take that from you.

The boarding ramp disengages and you’re the first one to step onto it. A hush of silence befalls the crowds.

You stride forward with as much confidence as you can muster, focusing not on the leering eyes of the Harkonnens but instead on the Baron’s fortress. A large pathway separates you from it, granting you plenty of time to get your fill. It’s as grand as it is excessively boastful; tall, pointed towers cleverly connected, all sharp lines and edges. It leaves the impression of a finely crafted dagger.

A display of power and wealth.

Behind you your parents emerge and the carefully observant crowd launches into disarray — shouts and yells of anger, of hatred, grate your ears. You know that they take it in stride, however, and their strength fortifies your own.

By the time you’ve crossed the distance from the heighliner to the inner walls of the fortress, your eyes are blurried by the strong contrast outside now given away to darkness. It takes a few moments for you to adjust. When you do, you quickly look over your surroundings.

There’s few decorations or art. It’s cold and impersonal and extremely clinical.

Your slippered feet reverberate off the high ceilings.

Bracing yourself, seemingly, has been for no reason. For it’s not the Baron and his nephew that meet you but rather a line of Harkonnen soldiers. Their faces are stoic.

You bristle. “Where is the Baron? And my betrothed? Do they not wish to receive us?”

The soldiers do not answer.

A man appears then from down the hall, a Mentat by the look of him. He’s pale and bald and clad in black like the other Harkonnens.

“My apologies, Lady Y/N,” the Mentat says. “My name is Piter de Vries. I am here to escort you. The Baron and na-Baron will receive you now in the throne room.”

Leto lays a hand on your arm as if to stifle your response. “Please, Piter, lead the way.”

You can’t help but glance curiously at your father. This entire situation was delicate, you knew, but you wonder at his subservience. It’s an insult not to be immediately greeted by their hosts, especially when your guests happen to be the Duke of Arrakis, his concubine, and their daughter. If Leto agrees with this affront, though, he doesn’t show it.

Leto simply strides after Piter with you and your mother in pursuit.

The fortress boasts sleek walls and floors, polished to perfection. Piter guides you to the throne room a short distance away, the sight of it stealing the breath from your lungs. It’s larger than any room you’ve seen before, outfitted on the far side with steps leading up to a grand dais.

And upon the dais, demanding your attention, is Baron Vladimir Harkonnen. The man is as large as the throne room itself but not nearly as impressive, pale and beastly, his enormous weight supported by suspenders. He makes no movement as you enter.

Your gaze moves quickly, eagerly, away from him.

Standing on either side of the dais are his two nephews. Aware that you can’t stand to face your betrothed yet, you fix your attention on his brother. Rabban, you recall his name.

Rabban is bound with hard muscle and swathed in what you can only describe as thinly veiled anger. At his side, his fists clench and unclench restlessly.

Then, without permission, you look to your future husband.

Feyd-Rautha stands as tall as Rabban but roped instead with lean, attractive muscle. His brow sits above dark eyes and a generous mouth. There’s a frightening intensity to the way he stands, encapsulating both nonchalance and a dangerous arrogance. Clearly this man is used to getting his way and will stop at nothing to do so.

And it’s this man that makes no effort to disguise the way he studies you, starting at the top of your head and trickling languidly downward.

A chill dances down your spine.

When he catches this, catches you watching him — he must’ve known that you were — his lips twitch into the faintest of smirks.

Part 2

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Ghoul Thought™️, perhaps a request? I haven’t played the game to know anything for sure, but I’m vibrating imagining the possibility that maybe he has a heightened sense of smell, and can smell just how turned on and wet his little vaultie has been for him from the moment they met. 🥵

Probably tries to ignore at first, but at a certain point he really needs to call her out😏

So, not only do I think ghouls overall would be able to smell when you were wet, I think ghouls with a particularly sensitive "nose" (I have spoken at some length about sense of smell and scent marking in ghouls, so you can find elaboration on that here) would be able to detect hormonal changes, so they'd be able to smell when you're ovulating.

Cooper can absolutely smell both, though he's not quite sure what he's picking up at first. He notices the tang in the air when you two initially approach one another, so he doesn't necessarily think much of it. What he fails to notice is the longing with which you'd been sizing him up before approaching. Your smell changes during your first conversation (well, more like a first argument, since every conversation with the man is about one crossed wire or snarky comment away from devolving into an argument, especially when you've only just met), and the change seems to stick once you both calmed down and agree to travel together.

However, the first time you two stop by the roadside to rest for a few hours, he notices the smell returning. He doesn't say anything about it, simply watches you drift off to sleep out of the corner of his eye, intrigued about this person who is so willing to travel with a ghoul, especially one as gruff and unwelcoming as he can be. Once you begin to snore lightly (a sound that makes him chuckle), he spends a long time just staring at you, studying you curiously. The smell has fully returned, and is even stronger than before, but it takes seeing you rubbing your thighs together and sighing in your sleep for him to fully realize what's going on.

He spends that whole night with the most painful, bothersome erection he's ever had in his life, but he's too annoyed with you and himself to do anything about it. The next morning, he's quieter than he'd typically be, but you don't know him well enough at that point to notice.

From that moment on, he notices it constantly. The idea that you simply find him, specifically, sexually attractive to the point of fairly blatant arousal is ridiculous to him, so he spends a long, long time turning the whole thing over and over in his brain; is it some adrenaline rush? Or a ghoul fetish? Do scarred-up, rotted near-corpses just get you going in general?

That theory is a wash when tested, though, since any time other ghouls are around and his nose picks up on it, he's also obviously there as well. Even observing from a distance doesn't really support the idea; you don't seem to really "click" with the others in exactly the same way. You're kind to them, of course, as you are to pretty much everyone, and it actually softens his heart to know you still see ghouls as real, whole people. But that's all it seems to be: friendliness. No matter how much he may try to deny it to himself, there's a chemistry, a spark between the two of you that he can't ignore, and that he doesn't see when you interact with others. He also cannot ignore the thrill it gives him to see other ghouls studying the two of you together, their eyes full of assumptions.

You always choose to sit close to him even when there are other options. You pester him with personal questions and inquiries about the Wasteland and he has to pretend to be annoyed by it, secretly overjoyed to have some seemingly genuine companionship for once in god knows how long. Sometimes, in your sleep, you unconsciously move close enough that you touch him. Rather innocent touches, considering, but they never fail to send his heart racing, leaving him humiliatingly aroused at as little as your back against his outer thigh, your face against his hip.

All the while, that scent tantalizes, haunts him.

He ignores the problem as long as he can, enjoying the way you two have slowly begun to chat, joke around with one another; there might even be some real trust developing there. He doesn't want to jeopardize that because he's lonely and can't control himself. Even if it's slowly beginning to seem to him that you might actually want him, too, he'd rather have your friendship and be happy with that than push his often rotten luck and risk losing you trying to be greedy.

But at the same time...feeling his long-dormant sex drive reawakening is strangely thrilling. It makes him feel human, makes him feel alive. For so long, he's found his sense of masculinity in violence, in vengeance and bloodshed. Your warm presence, your beauty, your scent...it all makes him feel masculine in a very different way, leaving him waiting impatiently most nights for you to fall deep enough asleep that he can sneak away to relieve the ache in his balls.

Of course, he doesn't go far enough away that he can't watch over you, still. No, he stays close enough that he can still see you, can study every inch and soft curve of your body as he strokes his throbbing cock. It's not disgusting or perverted if it's done out of necessity, he tells himself. The desert is a dangerous place, and he can't afford to take his eyes off of you when you're in such a vulnerable state. That doesn't mean he isn't left feeling guilty after he finishes, though, the euphoria of his orgasm tainted with shame. Still, he finds himself in the same position most nights, sighing your name wantonly as he spills all over the ground.

He can only fight his urges for so long, though.

You spent most of the previous week smelling of blood (something he also found tantalizing but decided to not think too hard on), which meant that soon you'd be ovulating. It was funny, almost, how he had all but completely forgotten pretty much everything about how women worked, but a handful of months with you and he's suddenly keeping track of your cycle (sort of) like it has anything to do with him. The whole thing makes him strangely nostalgic for when he and Barb were trying to conceive, and the emotions of that only add to the inner tumult he feels. The fact that your smell becomes even more temping, more inviting in this time only makes things worse for him.

The new game you'd been playing recently, however, would be the straw that ultimately broke the camel's back.

The last few nights, you'd taken to settling in for sleep, as per usual, but your breathing wouldn't drop down into the same deep, rhythmic pattern that indicated unconsciousness. Instead, you'd roll over onto your belly, a position you didn't usually sleep in, laying on your arm, and begin rather conspicuously grinding against your hand, pretending to be asleep all the while.

Cooper Howard is a man with an excellent poker face. Not much shakes him badly enough to draw out a genuine reaction. But the first time you did this, he sat a few feet away, frozen, a lit cigarette burning itself away to nothing as it dangled between his parted lips. The smell of you, the sound of your little whimpers and quiet sighs, had kept him nailed to that spot beside you all night two nights in a row, even after you'd finished and actually drifted off to sleep.

He tells himself tonight will be different if you pull the same stunt.

Which, of course, you do.

A shocked gasp leaves you when he grabs you by the ankle, dragging you a few feet through the sandy dirt towards him and flipping you onto your back, staring down at you as he pulls himself halfway on top of you.

"Filthy fucking tease." he growls, your natural perfume making his head swim as his deft fingers move to the button of your pants.

The pitch dark of the desert night is eerily silent, save for the harsh sound of your breaths intertwining as he helps wrestle the worn material down your legs, trying his best to rein in his strength and not shred it to pieces in his haste to get to that warm, inviting place between your legs. A snarl, feral and borderline inhuman, rips from his throat when his fingers finally find what he's been fantasizing about. The small part of him that has any control is nervous for a split second, worried to frighten you, but the shudder that seems to break down your spine in response isn't one of fear.

He knows he should be gentle, take his time, but the wetness that he feels, the heat, the hormones in the air short circuit his brain, and after a few swipes at your puffy clit, he sinks his middle finger inside you in one fluid motion, giving a few pumps before sliding his ring finger in alongside it. The sounds you let out are the most beautiful thing he's ever heard, and they drive him to rub and tease and fuck you with his hands until you're whimpering his name in a way that tells him you're close. Fleetingly, he wonders what his odds of being able to knock you up really are.

You turn your head quickly and snag his lips in a passionate kiss just as you begin to come apart all over his fingers, leaving him swallowing your moans and whimpers as his hips buck and grind wildly against your own. It's sloppy and rough and your teeth are bumping against one another, but you still bring your leg up around his hip, letting him rub himself against you as he cums in his pants.

After a few minutes, the two of you calm down enough to really look at one another, though you're both a little hesitant. No one says anything for a good, long second, but the look on your red, sweaty face says you're happy. Nervous, he tucks his face back into the crook of your neck, laying a few soft, sort of awkward kisses there, debating whether he should pull away or not. He doesn't want to impose himself on you anymore than he already has.

But your leg remains wound around his hip, holding him close as your hands move up to cradle the back of his head, petting softly, and the loving touch glues him in place, too lost in your affection to even think about going anywhere. He knows that you two are going to have to have a long, likely awkward talk about this, about what this makes you. He isn't dreading it as much as he imagined he'd be. He's eager to call you his, actually, if you'll let him...

...but not so eager that he can ignore the way you're starting to grind against him again. Or the way he's getting hard all over again. Poor thing, you're not getting much sleep tonight, are you?

He'll make it up to you somehow.

[spaceorphan18]

The Lady Whistledown Papers: 1x06 Swish (Part 5)

Welcome back, Gentle Readers, to The Lady Whistledown Papers, where I’m taking an in-depth look at Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton’s character arcs and romance within the show Bridgerton!

For previous issues, follow tag : The Lady Whistledown Papers

Alright, let's wrap this episode up ;)

Letters

I want to know what book she's not actually reading. Also, picture of me every evening, if we're being honest...

She looks so cute in her fake sickness, I wanna just take all the screencaps!

So. Portia. She comes in going on about some dinner invitation that she's happy to have. Portia just thrives on being in society, and now that Colin and Marina's engagement has hit the ton, people are asking her to dinner all over the place. And, apparently Portia enjoys having spite invitations just so she can laugh in the host's face.

Penelope has other things to do. And she's got a very short amount of time to do it. So she fakes being sick to get out of social obligations so she can get some work done.

The timeline on this is interesting, though... The Featheringtons had dinner with the Bridgertons -- Colin told Marina give him a day. So, this is the next day/evening? So the end of this episode actually takes place on the morning after this one? So, Colin needed over a day for his plans to work out? Idk, time in this world is a little wonky sometimes, and I don't always feel like I know when I am.

I kind of love Pen's nervous determination. I love that she's sneaking around in her own home. She isn't sure exactly what she's looking for -- but she's gotta find something that'll stop this wedding.

Penelope is an adorable, yet terrible snoop. She goes through all of Marina's shit hoping to find.... something? I don't think she even knows. What she does find is Marina's suitcase packed and ready to go. And Penelope gets it -- she gets that Marina is going to run away with Colin, which makes her even more frantic. But girl... you gotta clean up your mess when you're going through people's stuff. She leaves everything everywhere -- Marina will definitely know something's happened in her room.

Anyway... what Penelope also finds is a bunch of letters stuffed in the back of her drawer, and upon looking at them, figures out that the one final letter sent by George is a forgery. I mean, I give this girl some credit, because that's some serious detective shit being able to figure that out based on one signature that's slightly off. But she is a writer, and there's a chance she's savvy enough to notice the content of the letter isn't in character, either.

Alright, so by the time Marina returns (from dinner?) Penelope has put Marina's stuff back in place. Good girl. Also, how long has she been sitting there waiting?

Anyway, so Marina is a little wtf about Penelope being in there and going through her stuff, but Penelope is so excited, she doesn't even wait for Marina to get done scolding her. She blurts out that the signatures don't match, and that she found a letter in her mother's handwriting to compare, to show that Portia was the one who did the forgery of George's letter.

Penelope is so excited about this development, she's practically bouncing. There is a way out of this mess without anyone getting too hurt! (I mean, technically, Colin's getting hurt but this would be less hurtful than what is going to happen, and way less than what would happen if he married Marina.)

And here's where the story really takes a turn. Penelope is excited, because she's found a way to save Colin, but also... she loves romance. And this proves that George never turned Marina away, that there's a possibility that George still loves her, that Marina can also get her happy ending with someone she actually does love. This development is important because it plays into what Penelope greatly desires herself - a great love story.

Marina is in shock, and really not accepting of all of this. She's skeptical of Penelope's claims, most likely because she's been coming to terms that George broke her heart, and has accepted that he isn't coming for her. And the practical side of her is winning out. George hasn't continued to write (though - would she know if Portia was keeping letters from her?) and Colin is a sure thing. And she just can't take that gamble. She won't take the chance on the possibility of love when she has security in her grasp.

And this just perplexes Penelope. She may be young and naive herself, but love is one of the most important things to her. Why would you not do everything you can to be with the one you love? Why would you not fight for your love? Why would you push it away?

Marina doesn't care. She still feels abandoned, and won't give up her one chance for a safe life. So, she burns the evidence, a symbolic gesture to the ending of that story.

And this is just too much for Penelope. Not only is Marina discarding her last ditch effort to stall the marriage, she's turning her back on love, and Penelope can't with that -- especially when she's in the process of trying to protect her own love from an unhappy life.

So, Penelope just blurts out that she knows Marina has a bag packed and assumes she's on her way to Gretna Green for an elopement, and for the first time, really starts to push back against Marina. What will she do when Colin finds out about the baby? How are you going to deal with the fact that you're really going to hurt him when he figures it all out?

Marina isn't necessarily concerned about that. She knows Colin will care for the baby, and won't kick her to the street, and that ultimately is what matters to her.

Penelope, rather emotional now, digs in. What of Colin? What of him and his feelings -- because they do matter, too.

Cause here's the thing about Pen. If this had been a sincere love match, I do believe she wouldn't have loved watching it go down, but she would have accepted it. She wouldn't have meddled. She's always felt that Colin would never pay her any real attention in the romantic sense, and she's come to terms with that. But this isn't a love match. And Colin is being actively hurt in all of this. And Pen can't help but stick on that point.

And... I kind of love this next beat. Marina stands in silence at Penelope's emotional outburst. The score comes in with its omniums score. Penelope's just showed her heart in a way that she hasn't before. Her love for Colin is a very sacred thing, but one that she tries her best to keep to herself, and it's finally burst through to someone.

(Granted, I'll argue they're all dumb for not noticing it sooner, but this makes for a lovely dramatic moment.)

All the pieces fit together for Marina, and she finally gets it, and says the quiet part out loud -- Penelope is in love with Colin.

The look of shock on Pen's face, though... She tries to reign it in, downplay it, be confused by the accusation. But Marina calls her out on exactly what it is. But this is going to be Marina's ultimate downfall.

Marina does not give Penelope an ounce of sympathy here. She calls Penelope's feelings a "childish infatuation" and an "unrequited fantasy". And believes, most likely because of the situation she's in, that she's more understanding of the world because she's lived more in it.

This conversation is so dense and complex. Do I think Penelope is young and in love with the idea of love? Yes. Do I think Pen's feelings should be dismissed? No. And this is where I think Marina doesn't get it. Because Penelope's feelings aren't entirely ungrounded. Not only has she lived with and managed her feelings for a long, long time, not only has she been realistic about her chances, her feelings aren't entirely unrequited.

Colin might be in his own fantasy land with Marina, but he and Pen have a very real friendship and a very real mutual caring for one another. It might not be in the same way, but it's dismissive not to acknowledge that.

And in a way Marina does, but how she does is actually somewhat cruel. She throws at Pen that Colin thinks of her no more than he thinks of Eloise... but she doesn't stop, she adds not even Eloise, but 'little' Hyacinth. Marina is throwing at her that Colin doesn't just think of her as a sister, but as a little girl who follows him around.

And to add salt to the wound, Marina says that Colin thinks of her as a woman -- as a sexual being as well as a partner, something that Penelope will never have (ha!). And it's just mean.

I get what Marina's doing -- it's part of the self preservation that she's being doing all along, because Marina feels utterly alone and if she can't save herself, no one else will. So she's being purposeful in her confrontation to Penelope. She wants to break Pen's heart. She wants Pen to feel defeated and give up.

And I have to wonder if some of this is self reflection on Marina's part. She feels so jaded and cold from what the world has thrown at her, she almost can't help but dish it out in the same way. It doesn't make it right, but you can understand why she feels the need to do this.

Well, Marina, you just fucked with Lady Whistledown and the man she loves, so you're going to get what's coming to you (which, i'll argue, is the better outcome for her, so it's not really that bad).

And here's where I'll stand up for Pen a bit. Because up until this point she's tried :

Encouraging Marina to keep up her correspondence with George

Appealing to Marina on an empathetic level

Helping Marina find another man who would still be a worthy choice

Going to her mother to try to persuade other options.

Going to Colin and attempting honesty about Marina's feelings for another man, but not spilling the actual pregnancy secret

Trying to prove to Marina that she shouldn't lose hope that the man she loves is actually still out there.

She has tried every avenue, and as I've said before, if Marina had had genuine feelings she would have stepped aside. But Marina has just been somewhat cruel in her actions. And yes, Penelope may be doing this out of her own feelings, but it doesn't mean that she doesn't care about Marina or her well being. Or that she hasn't been trying to help everyone in the situation.

So, Penelope flees, and goes off to write one damning Whistledown article. As Whistledown will say in season three -- when one loses hope, one becomes reckless.

Whistledown

The two plotlines of the episode -- Daphne and Simon's issues and the Marina story are going to collide thematically, and are tied together, rather brilliantly, in the Lady Whistledown voice over, that speaks to both situations.

The narration speaks of love and war and how the human heart is the most fragile of things. And I think, while it's definitely reflecting the intensity of the Daphne and Simon stuff, it hits differently when you know it's Pen. Marina did get to her. Her heart is really broken. But she's going to do what she feels, ultimately, is the right choice -- and reveal Marina's secret.

She knows what it's going to do to Marina, to her family, to Colin, and to the Bridgertons - whom she adores very much. The narration is unsure if it's the right choice, but it feels like the only choice.

This little moment of Pen and Eloise, it's always made me curious. Penelope and Eloise haven't had any kind of contact since their tiff a few episodes earlier, but that's the thing about best friends, is that they'll always be there when you really need them. And Eloise is there to console an utterly broken Pen. I do wonder what she said when Eloise inevitably asks what's wrong because. I wonder if she ends up telling Eloise the truth about Marina's pregnancy and the plans of elopement. Because at this point, that secret doesn't matter, Pen's already told the world.

I have to say, it's a nice little touch of acting that Penelope looks so young, really like a child, as she breaks down.

The Whistledown narration goes on to reveal Marina's secret -- letting the world know she was pregnant not only before she was engaged, but upon arrival to Mayfair.

And i love LOVE the composition of these scenes with the reveal. Colin is ready for his Romeo and Juliet moment, ready to go off and have this romantic adventure, live out his fantasy dreams. And the real world is going to come crashing in.

I kind of love the way Violet and Portia are just standing there, each waiting, each with their own complex looks on their faces as they've both read Whistledown and know. Violet is sad for him, but also frustrated and also a little of... I knew something felt off about this. Portia is just, disappointed and angered.

(Also the contrast of colors in the two scenes -- the Bridgerton blues vs the Featherington yellow/pinks, the lighting is so devastatingly gorgeous in both scenes, it really just amplifies the atmosphere of the moment.)

Colin's world is shattered. Marina looks resigned to her defeat.

And Penelope calls herself out in the narration (even if it's talking about Marina and Daphne as well) -- she knows that she crossed a line with this one. Knows that her actions may be seen as inexcusable. Was what she did worth it? Perhaps time will...

[ragingbookdragon]

Does This Unit Have A Soul

Nick Valentine x Sole Survivor

Word Count: 1K Warnings: None

Author's Note: ...I do in fact have a desire to fuck the robot

It is, a lonely night that she finally comes to the realization that there’s something more than just friendship for the synth. The radiation storm coming has her upping the speed to find the nearest shelter and just as the first burst of sickly thunder snaps across the land, she’s pulling Nick and Dogmeat inside the small building. It’s musty, the last traces of a trader caravan evident as the layers of dust cover over one another.

She drops her gear, shucking off the leather jacket and armor before collapsing onto the ground, already pushing RadAway into her body to cleanse the burst of radiation she’d received from the storm. Dogmeat busies himself turning about three times before he plops down beside her with his head on her thigh. Nick, however, is pushing a chair up against the door and laying a landmine. It makes her laugh lowly in her throat, remembering the time she and the original Nick Valentine shared a hotel room together when they were on a case. He’d pushed one of the wooden chairs up underneath the doorknob and put a bottle behind it. You’re paranoid. She’d told him and he, being the wise-ass he was had cracked back, Yeah, and paranoid cops survive.

The chuckle is loud enough to register in his CPU because he looks over his shoulder and, “What?”

“I didn’t say anything,” she retorts, and he rolls his eyes.

“You were laughing.”

“I was not.”

“You were too.”

It slips out before she can help it. “You’re paranoid.”

Nick freezes, like he’s been struck by lightning and she sees it when he obviously remembers, because he lowers his head and replies, “Yeah, but paranoid detectives survive.”

She’s never explicitly told Nick she knew the original man, but she also knows this is still Nick Valentine, and he’s always been as sharp as a whip and able to jump to answers faster than light. She smiles softly, almost sadly as she asks, “How long have you known?”

Nick sighs, shoulders drooping as he turns and walks over and sits beside her along the wall. “Since just before helping me with Winter.”

“How come you never said anything?”

He shrugs. “You and Nick, the thing you two had back then wasn’t mine to intrude on.”

“It wasn’t like we were a thing, Nick. I was just his best criminal attorney and he my best detective.”

“But you knew.”

“Knew that he loved me?” she laughs. “Nick didn’t love me. Lust, maybe, but he never loved me. Not like Jenny.”

Nick eyes her for a moment, watches the way those words, Not like Jenny, come out of her mouth, the tone of her voice, the flash in her eye. “Green is best saved for mutants, doll.”

She startles for a moment, wide-eyed staring at him. “I beg your pardon?”

He gives her a knowing look.

“I was not jealous of Jenny. The two of us were friends. Just because Nick and I were good friends more doesn’t mean I was jealous of him having another relationship with another woman.”

“But this was before you married…Nicholas?”

“Nate,” she corrects with a scowl. “And yes, it was before I married him.”

Nick doesn’t say anything, but that annoying hum escapes him, and he lights a cigarette and looks away.

“I wasn’t jealous of her.”

“Of course not. But you were attracted to Nick.”

“Oh, for God’s sake! Anyone who knew Nick Valentine was attracted to him. He was a lady-killer! With that stupid, cocky grin and that face of his! Being a cop was a plus!” And then she realizes it all of two-hundred years later. “Oh my God, I was attracted to Nick the whole time.”

"Well I coulda told you that,” he snorts. “I’ve got loads of memories about his thoughts on you.” He’ll never tell her, but he enjoys the way she flusters at that and looks away. Though, he worries when her demeanor turns solemn. “Doll?”

“I’m sorry, Nick,” she murmurs.

“For what?”

She looks back, eyes sad, lips pulled down. “Back in May of 2077, we knew that it was getting dangerous for Jenny to continue being without witness protection. When the request came in for it, I pushed, but…I didn’t push hard enough and…and then…” her words fall short and she reaches up to wipe her eyes. “Oh, Nick, I’m so sorry. It was my fault that Jenny was killed. I should’ve pushed harder for my bosses to get her in, but I didn’t. Nate was at home with the baby and so much was happening and I just—”

Nick rests his hand on hers, the cool metal stilling her. “You didn’t kill Jenny,” he murmurs. “And Nick knew it too. He didn’t blame you.”

“You should’ve.” That’s the one thing she does, never separates the original and the synth. They’re both Nick, just different times and situations.

“I don’t,” he says and curls his hand around hers. “And Jenny wouldn’t either.”

Her lips wobble and she stares at him. “Do…do you think he and Jenny are resting now?”

Nick nods. “I do. I think their souls are finally at rest.”

She lays her head on his shoulder, cuddles close to him, knees brushing the cool of his thigh. “Do you think ours ever will, Nicky?”

She only calls him Nicky when she flirts with him; it makes his center circuits burst with something fierce. He lets out a deep breath and wraps his arm around her, letting her cuddle against his chest, ear pressed to the synthetic skin beneath his shirt. “I think…when it’s finally your time, doll, and you’re old and white haired, yours will.”

“I said ours.”

“Do you really think this old unit has a soul.”

Her head cocks up, stares him straight in his yellow lit eyes and says, “More than anything, I do, Nick Valentine.”

He smiles, softly at her, ushers her back to lay down, knowing she’s plum-tuckered out; he waits until she’s snoring against him, brushing his fingers through her hair and murmurs, “What a woman.”

Nick used to say that all the time about her. Back when he would watch her take down someone in court. Justice prevailing. What a woman.

But this time, Nick is here, she is here, it’s them against the world.

“What a woman, my girl is.”

[earlymorningfoxhunt]

Hello, we're a system/collective who started listening to Malevolent on June 7th, 2024, and boy did it hit close to home! not only because of the jarthur body sharing blues, but also johns individual experience with his identity made us feel seen in a way we haven't felt before.

the way john has to figure out what differentiates himself from both arthur and hastur, despite feeling trapped behind arthurs eyes and chained to hastur heart, aligns with our experiences... a lot. so we've been making a compilation for the past month that includes all of the moments that made us go OOORRG as well as different folks commentaries (mostly consisting of us going OOORRG). this is going to be long as shit because this entire show is this.

also if your a system/collective who likes malevolent: PLEASE put ur favorite moments/ur thoughts

and if you haven't listened to malevolent: hey, you should give it a try and then come cry to me about it :D

A Compilation Of Malevolent Moments That Hit Differently As A System:

The Caves: (34:59-35:20)

during their argument john laughs while arthur trips over things

hehehe ya

The Path: (43:06-44:05)

johns questioning if he's feeding off of arthurs emotions or if hes learning them for himself, new split type beat, trying to figure out where each other start and end.

"we are of two minds, and more and more im realizing two souls as well. there's a bleed over effect but you are something entirely your own, john."

The Fall:

oh my god this episode. this man got so fucking pissed, not at john for rubbing the death of arthurs child in his face, but at arthur pulling host rank???? i was like ya buddy you can rot in a pit for a few months, mf you cant do that!! we we're listening to this at work and we were so pissed

The King: (35:00-36:25)(45:18-48:57)

its the first time arthur talks for him and its the first time he feels johns tears.

arthurs confrontation with the king and the feeling of no matter how much you hate each other, you're going to have each others back. for us personally it feels like a sucker punch to the gut every time he says "because i cant lose another person!"

The Unconquerable:

when we wrote down the title we didnt know why the episode resonated with us, but now I come back to it a month later as a yellow introject. we have horrid memory issues on top of memory issues, so it hurts something familiar to see the state yellow is in when he gets thrown into arthur. not knowing who or where he is but still trying to hold the cards, arthurs disappointment that hes not who he wanted him to be. its a new kind of painful. its the odd solace that comes from a shattered mirror.

we see arthurs frustration but its almost nice to be able to hate him for not giving yellow more grace.

The Train: (4:19-8:10)

I have literally told this guy he looks 80lbs sopping wet before, this entire episode is perfect. the bickering, the team work, the having to navigate socializing, it feels so nice

The Tear: (12:14-22:48)

ya...

The Detective: [(3:50-7:05) (10:40-14:58)] (28:09-28:18)

we made the mistake of listening to this on the way to getting tacos and we just had to sit in the parking lot, crying as john got to be seen for the first time by an ally. I've never had the experience myself(others in our system are out tho) but seeing it go well for him sparked something in me, enough that it pulled us to front for the past few weeks. that, w. it was a very important moment to us

and on a completely different vibe, "have you ever... before?" fuckin "well with out my excellent call outs" silly guy

The Order II: (23:26-24:00)

huh? oh hes not talking to us

The Witch: [(16:11-17:24) (25:30-26:56) (29:00-33:17)]

the whole episode honestly, start to finish.

no, im not including the ending speech it makes me physically ill

WITCH: This woman cared for you?

JOHN: Yes. 

WITCH: Lies! She cared for your mortal!

JOHN: He couldn’t hear her! I was the one who received her care, her kindness, her –

WITCH: Intended for another!

JOHN: What does that matter!? She knew no difference between me or him! She knew nothing of the soul that heard her, whether it was… (He sighs in frustration.) It was the same care. The same… compassion. 

UUUUUUUUUGGGGG

Honorary Mentions:

all of johns memory issues in season 4:

how every time he came back he would be defensive saying "right, i knew that!" even when he didn't remember, that's a classic.

Intermezzo: (5:00-5:46)

kayne and his many many voices/me not me/ its not about the names were given its about the names we choose

every time jarthur says we/our

The King:

"well at least thats what the loudest voice in my head says" ya? and how many voices are in there?

[burr-ell]

Honestly, it feels really good seeing Claude fan who also happens to love Lady Rhea. There's really not enough of us

Sending love 💛💚

anon this warmed my heart so much im gonna give u a snippet from the claude & rhea friendship fic i never got around to finishing <3

He took a deep breath and knocked.

“Enter.”

He opened the door and stepped into the archbishop’s chambers. The atmosphere was surprisingly soothing, sunlight streaming through the windows and a floral perfume permeating the air. Rhea was sitting up in her nice, if plain-looking, canopy bed, resting against a couple of squashy pillows with a teacup and a book on the bedside table.

“You wished to see me, Claude?” she asked.

“I did.”

“I take it you have further questions?”

“Thought I’d come to pick your brain,” he said easily. “You’re the only one who’s ever taken on Nemesis directly. We need all the help we can get straight from the source.”

Rhea smiled, almost unnervingly genuine. “I can advise you, provided we discuss what’s really on your mind first.”

He’d expected her to be able to disarm him, but he hadn’t expected her to be so pleasant about it. Still, he was nothing if not nimble. “That easy to read, am I?”

“Not at all, actually. Seteth has often complained of it to me.” Her eyes flicked upward, a practiced gesture of exasperated fondness. “But do not forget that I have been in hiding for over a thousand years. There are many skills I lack, but I can detect a master of the craft.”

“Then it looks like we’re on the same playing field.”

Rhea sighed. “I cannot force you to lower your guard, nor do I expect it, but…please, at least have a seat.”

She gestured to the chair next to her bed, and Claude seated himself, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“I gather you would still like to know more of the story of your professor.”

“There are still so many things that Byl—Teach still doesn’t know.”

“Including that you are here speaking with me.”

Claude nodded—he’d have been more surprised if she hadn’t guessed. “I didn’t want to worry her. And I think…she needs time before she can speak to you objectively.”

Rhea heaved a sigh, tipping her head back against the bed frame. “I understand. I—I gave you both quite enough information to take in. And…and she must be feeling…I cannot possibly understand what.”

“Neither can she.” He was careful to keep his tone neutral, but it was hard not to be accusatory.

“I owe her many apologies,” Rhea said softly. “Apologies that I cannot expect her to accept.”

“I can’t speak to where her head’s at right now,” Claude said slowly (honestly, Byleth’s head was still an enigma to him sometimes), “but I don’t think she’s—angry. She’s just…” He pressed his lips together in thought, then continued. “She’s spent her whole life being treated like a tool. And then she came here and sort of…found herself. And then she found out that someone who helped make that happen also wanted to use her.” He would know. He’d done the very same thing, before he’d gotten to know his best friend. His…well.

Rhea closed her eyes miserably. “I know. I have greatly wronged her.”

“She also understands why you did it,” Claude continued, “and why you kept it a secret. It’s just…a lot to process. Especially for someone who for so long didn’t even understand how to really feel anything.”

“And what about you?”

Claude tipped his head. “Me?”

Rhea frowned. “You are known for your inquisitiveness, and your thirst for knowledge. Yet you did little to question what I revealed to you. Why?”

Claude propped his chin in one hand, rubbing his lip thoughtfully with his index finger. “Honestly…what you told us made everything I’d been looking at for five years click into place. Just looking at the Relics alone, knowing what we know, and you can tell they’re made of—y’know.”

Rhea nodded, in a resigned sort of way.

“But if you don’t know the full story,” Claude went on, “you might not really think about it. Most people can’t use them, and they’re kept hidden away when they’re not being wielded. Even I didn’t get a look at Failnaught until my grandfather actually passed and I inherited the estate.”

Churning insides were nothing new to Claude, having dealt with them both naturally and otherwise, but even mentioning the bow was making him a bit queasy. How he’d yearned for the chance to wield it, knowing it would give him the opportunity to study it up close and grant him the power to achieve his greatest dreams, and now…

“It all makes sense now,” he continued softly. “I’ve never heard of something so horrific. And the way Seteth and Flayn are so secretive, and how upset Seteth was when Flayn went missing…” He paused, mulling over whether to reveal this particular piece of information—but it was unlikely that Rhea hadn’t seen such a thing coming, and at any rate, in light of all she’d shared with them, she deserved as full a story as he could give in return. “Seteth once confiscated a diagram I was showing Teach, of a creature called The Immaculate One. It had already given me some clues about Crest stones and Relics. At the time I thought it was because the church had something to hide…and in a way, I was right. And now I know that he was right to take it.”

Claude leaned a little closer, meeting Rhea’s eyes and their combined relief and sorrow. It was an expression he knew well—of finally finding someone who understood. “I didn’t even think to say it before. I am so, so sorry, for everything that happened to you. No one deserves to live in fear just because of who they are.”

“You…” Rhea swallowed thickly, eyes misting. Claude fell silent and averted his gaze, giving her a moment to regain her composure.

She took a deep breath. “Your words touch my heart—truly, they do. Yours is a perspective gained from cruel experience.”

She knew. Or at least she’d guessed. It was unsurprising, really, but he couldn’t help the thrill of anxiety pulsing in the back of his mind. Even so…there was an odd kinship here, one he didn’t even feel with Byleth when they discussed it, that kept his panic at bay. “Yeah,” he murmured, “I do. I know better than most people what it’s like to be resented and hated for being who I am. And what I’ve been through…it can’t even compare to what happened to you, and Seteth and Flayn.”

Rhea smiled, eyes still watery. “Such things are not competitive. At the end of it all, there are others who understand.”

[puddingcatbeans]

timkon; one quiet night, among many more to come.

When the credits starts to roll, Conner stretches, and looks over at Tim. They're on the couch, awash with the soft blue of the television screen. Tim's feet are tucked under Conner's thigh, head tilted back at an angle that shouldn't be comfortable, but Conner's pretty sure that bones are optional with Bats.

It's a quiet Thursday night—not their usual date night, but Tim stayed in anyway once he was convinced that Conner really had no other plans beyond ignoring his homework that night. Tim's never really been one to ask for what he wants. He either just gets it, as one of the youngest billionaires in the world or as one of the smartest detectives in the world, or he beats around the bush like it's on fire. Through exposure and sheer force of will, Conner has learned to read between the lines. And today, Tim was definitely asking to hang out, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"It's late," Conner says, glancing out the window. Despite the pitch dark gloom of the midnight sky, Gotham's still lit up. Flickering streetlamps, sirens, strobe lights, the Bat signal...

Tim hums. He picks up the controller to back out of the autoplay. Without looking at Conner, he says, "You don't want to disturb the Kents going back too late."

"Yeah..." Conner scratches behind his ear. He watches Tim fiddle with the controller. Sitting there all slouched in a shapeless pair of sweatpants that must have been Steph's at one point, and a worn hoodie of Conner's that is one size too big even for him, he looks soft. Tired, like a long day of running and finally sitting down to eat. Small, in the way that Conner only thinks about him in the safety of his mind.

He looks like home.

"They're probably asleep already," comes out of his mouth before he can think it through. He shifts on the couch when Tim turns to look at him. "I mean. It's cold. And I have study hall first period, anyway." And you look like you really don't want to be alone tonight, he thinks.

Tim blinks at him. He relaxes slightly, enough for Conner to realize he has been tense for the last while.

"And," Conner adds, one last push, "you know you're just going to be texting me until you pass out at 5 am."

Tim huffs a laugh. He shuts off the tv and stands. "Okay. You win. Let's go to bed."

"I call little spoon!" Conner plasters himself to Tim's back as they make their way to the bedroom. Tim's heartbeat thuds steady against his chest, his hair smelling like the gentle lavender of his shampoo. He feels warm and wonderful in Conner's arms, as he laughs, for real this time.

A stray thought: what if we moved in together? He thinks about being able to hold Tim every night so neither of them have to suffer through nightmares alone. He thinks about bickering over what's for dinner, and then making out in the kitchen while washing the dishes. He thinks about the future, and sees something he very much wants to stay for.

But Tim is tugging him onto the bed, bullying him onto his side so Tim can wrap his limbs around him like a limpet. Conner holds him back with TTK.

The question can wait, he decides. He looks forwards to it.

[soaringeag1e]

Escape {69}

Detective!Dean x Victim!Reader

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Secrets

Words: 1,945

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Patreon

9 Months Later

A couple of quiet knocks gets Dean to look up from the picture frame in his hand and he smiles at the man in the doorway. Feeling even more at home with the familiar face.

“You settling in, okay?” Dean slowly begins to nod as he looks around the room. “Feel like you never left?” It’s then that Dean’s eyes look through the window to Bobby’s right, his smile fading a little.

“Kind of.”

“Yeah.” The elder breathes before taking a few more steps into the office.

“I’m surprised you never gave my office up.” he admits, setting the picture he was holding down on his desk.

“Well,” Bobby shrugs. “There was a part of me that knew you would be back.”

“What about the part that didn't know?” His father figure remains silent for a moment, seeming to think about the answer though Dean is sure he knows exactly what he was feeling.

“I thought that maybe you needed the out and that you might go and find something else that made you happy.” Hearing that warms Dean’s heart.

“What if I did?” he asks, just curious on what would happen if the last option actually happened. 

“Well, then I would give your office up. Eventually.” They both share a light laugh. “That or turn it into a storage room.” Dean grins at his boss before setting another picture on his desk and then reaching back into the box to grab the next frame that needed a home in his office. "Well, you know where to find me if you need something." Bobby informs him as he slowly backs out of the room. "And uh…" he pauses, getting Dean to look at him. "Let's try not to get shot on our first day back, huh?" Despite the darkness of the past year, Dean’s able to chuckle at the joke. Grateful, Bobby grins and then leaves Dean to finish getting settled. 

His smile grows a bit as he looks down at the picture in his hand, his thumb gently brushing over the woman in the white dress as he lets that good memory play in his head. Not long after, he sets the frame down, right where he knows he'll always be able to see it.

Continuing to empty his box, he gets everything set up the way he likes and then he takes a seat in his chair, the familiar comfort almost feeling new for how long he's been gone. As he looks across the office and his eyes land on his former partner's desk on the other side of the glass, Dean has to take a minute. He knew coming back wouldn't be easy but he also knew that Eddie wouldn't want him to give up his career because of what happened. Dean was good at what he did and he knew this is where he belonged despite losing an amazing partner and friend.

Deans eyes gently close and he inhales deeply through his nose. His attempt to push away his emotions isn't the greatest but it's enough for him to carry on with his day.

As his computer wakes up after its long slumber, Dean's surprised to see that everything was the same as he left it. Files were sitting in the same spot on his desktop, his background picture was still that of a Zeppelin concert he attended years before he got his badge. Bobby really left his space untouched. 

Clicking on a few links, Dean waits patiently while some documents get uploaded on his computer. It's then that he catches his phone lighting up out of the corner of his eye, the notification getting him to grab the device and investigate more.

Movement was detected at his front door, the new doorbell camera working to its full potential. Though, after finding out that Cassidy tampered with the previous camera, it isn't that it didn't work, it's just that he had skills that Dean never knew about. It turned out that the day you had heard someone knocking on the door was in fact Cassidy testing out his plan and clearly it worked way too well.

As the little camera shows his front porch, Dean grins. His brother Sam stood there in a loose shirt and his infamous jogging pants. A few seconds later you had come into view wearing your jogging pants and a hot pink workout top, locking the door before looking into the camera and blowing a kiss.

"Love you." 

His smile growing, Dean lightly presses the speaker button on his phone. "Love you too." You smile brightly knowing he has an eye on you and then the two of you turn to step off the porch. Sam takes a second to look into the camera himself, waving to his brother before he takes off jogging to catch up with you.

Knowing that you're safe with Sam, Dean is able to relax a bit more before he dives into his first day back at work.

-

The two of you would usually spend an average of thirty minutes on your morning jogs. It didn't happen everyday considering the fact that Sam had to work most mornings, but when you both had some free time, it was definitely on the to do list. Another must have was a pit stop on the way back home. A nice little coffee shop run by a sweet older couple that have lived in town since they were kids. You and Sam felt like family going in there every time you were able to go out and you loved it.

“Oh! And can you make that decaf, please?” Sam looks at you a little confused, though you don’t notice as you’re paying for the two drinks. But as the barista nods and then steps away to start your drinks, Sam clears his throat, watching you put your card away.

“Decaf?” As if you didn’t hear him, you then pulled your phone out checking to see if you’ve heard from Dean at all, but everything seemed quiet. “When do you get decaf?” After slipping your phone into the pocket on the side of your pants, you look up at your friend, shrugging softly.

“Since I don’t need the extra kick.” your smile widens a bit before you step around him, waiting at the far counter for your order to be done. But Sam? He’s stuck in his spot for a few more beats, his mind fast tracking through his years of knowing you before he spins on his heel and moves to the end of the counter with you.

“Hold on,” Placing his palm on the counter, he looks at you with doubt in his eyes. “I’ve seen you wired off your ass before and you’d still take some extra shots over decaf.” A soft sigh falls from your lips and you look away, watching the barista make your drink. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Sam.” You say with an annoyance already in your tone.

“Y/N…”

“Shit, Sam, I’m fine!” The little outburst has him pull back a bit, looking at you with concern and slight disbelief and that clearly deflates you. “I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m a little tired and I think when I get back home I’m going to take a nap, so I just don’t want any caffeine right now. It’s not a big deal.” It’s then that Sam’s drink is set up on the counter and he reaches for it, but none of that takes away the concern he has.

“You feeling alright though?”

“Yeah.” you answer in a whisper before reaching for your drink and thanking the team behind the counter.

“Hey,” Lightly grabbing your elbow, Sam’s face is soft, his expression even softer, almost heartbreakingly so. “You can tell me anything. You remember that, right?”

“Of course I do.” your voice is as gentle as his touch. Despite that response and the fact that you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, something didn’t feel quite right. But he didn’t want to push you anymore than he already did.  “Is it okay if we start heading back?”

“Sure.” Though still concerned, Sam nods and gives you a soft smile. One that disappears as you start to head for the door.

-

Unfortunately for you it wasn’t only Sam that could see something was going on with you. Over the next few days Dean had picked up on the slight differences in your behaviors as well. You expressed to him and Sam both that you were just tired. Maybe you were coming down with something or maybe you had some kind of bug that just knocked the energy out of you. Either way, Dean took care of you as such. He tried to let you rest as much as possible, even brought you food in bed to keep you from exerting yourself too much. He begged you to go see a doctor multiple times and it wasn’t until just the night before last that you had told him that you in fact went to see someone. The only thing he didn’t know now was the fact that you knew what was wrong with you. You just weren’t sure how to tell him.

So as the sun slowly rose, the bright orange beams coming through the blinds in the bedroom, Dean's fingers worked the buttons on his dress shirt. His eyes kept lifting to the mirror, catching sight of you sleeping peacefully under the covers behind him. He used to close the bathroom door while he got ready for work in the morning, but you usually couldn’t be disturbed, and if you were, he loved the sight of your sleepy self sitting up and smiling at him from the bed. Though that was always dangerous in itself because he would just want to call in on those days and climb back in bed with you.

Once his buttons were done and he fixed his collar, he doused himself with a little cologne and then turned to leave the room. Slipping his dress jacket off the hanger, he slowly makes his way towards the bed, smiling softly as your face comes into view.

“I love your cologne.” your voice barely makes it out of the blankets, but it’s enough for him to hear.

“I didn’t think I put that much on.” A low moan escapes as you stretch under the covers. “Is it too much?” You disagree with a light shake of your head and a low grumble.

“It’s perfect.” you smile up at him as he sits at the edge of the bed and leans over you. A deep gravelly hum rolls up his chest just as his lips meet yours.

“How are you feeling?” he asks in between kisses and you answer in the same way.

“A little better.” 

“Yeah?” Kissing you once more, this one lasts a little longer before he pulls away and just looks into your eyes. “Have you heard back from the doctor yet?”

“Not yet.” you lie as best you can, feeling guilty for not telling him the truth, but you aren’t ready to tell him. You can see how much it’s bothering him, especially after that last answer. He’s clearly concerned and of course looks worried which makes you feel worse.

“Maybe you should call them? Check in with ‘em.”

“I can try.” you lie again, hoping it’ll make him feel a little better. You can tell he’s pleased with your answer but that fear won't go away until you tell him what’s going on. The unknown is always a scary place, but sometimes the known can be just as scary.

[yanderepuck]

Salai-Chapter 12

WELCOME TO SALAI'S ROUTE. This is a FAN MADE route of my oc, Salai. This means this route contains my headcanons for the characters and in no way is suppose to represent the canon story. This is just a fun little time because I know many of you enjoy Salai. Feel free to engage, talk theories, send asks (even to @ask-salai ).

DISCLAIMER: His route his not canon to his character. Also, all of his lore in not in the route for simplicity reasons plus please feel free to ask about him.

Banner by @spooscribbles

After some time you went to find Theo, wanting to ask him if there was any update on the conversation in the back room.  When you went to check on them the two of them were gone.

Theo: Huh?  Where did they go?

You push open the door and look around the room and there is no one inside.

Mitsuki: There is no one in here

There is no trace of them either.

Mitsuki: Maybe they went for a walk?  We would have heard them if there was any sort of argument.

Theo sighed.  It is not like the gallery is going badly, but this definitely wasn’t something he expected.  

Theo: If that is Salai, Leonardo is going to have some explaining to do.

He turns on his heels and goes back out.  He has enough to keep track of that he doesn’t need this getting in his way.

Mitsuki:  Leonardo turned him. . . then left him?

That made no sense. Something had to have happened to-

Arthur: What are you and Theo up to, luv?

Mitsuki: eek!  Arthur!

You turn around to see him walking in.

Arthur: The two of you keep sneaking around without inviting me~

You roll your eyes, knowing what Arthur is hinting at.

Arthur:  Something has been bothering you since I saw you earlier, what is it?

Of course you can’t hide anything from Arthur.  There is no point in trying.  You might as well come out and say it before he starts going all detective on you.

Mitsuki: It’s Andrea.  He has been-

Arthur: I knew he was trouble

Arthur puts an arm around you, pulling you close.

Arthur: Looks like I still have a chance after all~

The smirk on his face quickly disappeared when you didn’t go to push him away.

Arthur: What happened, Mitsuki?  Where is he?

Mitsuki: He left…

You took a little too long of a pause and Arthur butted in again.

Arthur:  Is that man a fopdoodle?

Mitsuki: A wha- never mind.

That caught you off guard that you almost forgot what you were going to say.

Mitsuki: He left with Leonardo.

Arthur: So he is a bedswerver.

You look at him, very confused and take a step away from him.

Mitsuki: Now you are sounding like Shakespeare.

Arthur:  Ow, hard move.  I spent a little too much time with him yesterday.  Now what is going on with Andrea?  I’ll beat him up for you.

Mitsuki: No no nothing like that.  He, um, I think he is one of Leonardo’s old apprentices, and he’s back as a vampire.

Arthur was quiet for a moment, looking at you with a serious, puzzling look before breaking out into laughter.

Arthur: haha, good one luv!

Mitsuki: I’m being serious!

He wipes a tear from the corner of his eye

Arthur: That was over 400 years ago, and who would bring him back?  Comte and Vlad haven’t been able to use the door, nor has Vlad mentioned bringing back someone else.  How could he have-

Mitsuki:  Leonardo turned him

Silence.  You thought Arthur was going to laugh again.  You know he was getting to the point about how Leonardo couldn’t have been the one to bring him back.

Arthur: You’re joking?

Mitsuki: Then give me another outcome, Mr. Holmes.

Arthur frowned as you glared at him.  He gave you nothing.

Mitsuki: That’s what I thought.

Arthur: So that is what you meant when you said they know each other.

Arthur sighs. And walks you out of the back room.

Arthur: I’m sure everything is fine.  If that is all true then Leonardo must have taken him to the mansion to talk.

You nod your head, following beside him

~~

Leonardo and Salai are sitting outside at a cafe not far from the gallery.  Leonardo got them both coffee and insisted on Salai getting something to eat.  Salai is holding the cup in his hands, still having a hard time looking up at him.  Leonardo sits back in his chair, not taking his eyes off of him.

Leonardo: How did you find me, bambino?

Salai: Your notebooks.  I kept going through all of them, hoping you mentioned someone I would be able to find.

He anxiously sips the coffee. 

Leonardo: You still have my notebooks?

Salai nodded, looking up at Leonardo for a moment before looking back down.

Salai: I kept everything of yours that I could.  I didn’t want to lose any of it.  One was misplaced and I finally found it a few years ago.  It had St. Germaine’s name in it and I vaguely remember him when I was younger.  I found out he was in Paris and I got here as quickly as I could.

Leonardo was surprised at how much work he was putting into finding him.  He never doubted that Salai wasn’t smart, but after what happened he thought he would move on.

Salai: I heard a few things about him but no one seemed to know exactly where he lived, and since I needed to pay rent I was painting in the city hoping I would see either him or you.

Leonardo: Bambino… I’m sorry.

Salai: Y-you didn’t come back. I-I needed you

Just as he seemed like he was starting to calm down, tears began to form in his eyes.  Leonardo leans forward and puts his hand over one of his.

Leonardo: I know, I know.  I shouldn’t have.  Or at the least went looking for you.

Salai finally looks up at him, trying so hard not to let the tears fall.

Leonardo: When we’re done why don’t you take me to where you’ve been staying?  We’ll move your things to the mansion.

Salai: Really?

He uses the cuff of his sleeve to wipe his eyes.  Leonardo smiles and nods at him then sits back in his chair.

~~~

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[iamnotoriginalphil]

Hey!

I was thinking of a Larissa x Detective reader where they have powers that let them see and feel what the victim was going through.

Larissa finding them in her office sitting in front of the fire emotionless and kind of shaken from their new case.

Honestly do with this what you please it will be great either way!

Here you are, Anon. I hope you like it.

You sat with your head in your hands, not able to feel the heat from the fire in front of you. You were shaking, teeth chattering and you were having trouble catching your breath. The pressure behind your eyes was building and you couldn’t stop the images in your mind.

Flashes kept showing themselves to you, showing you again and again violence over and over. The violation, the pain, the anger, it was all there in your mind and you couldn’t make it go away. You wanted it to go away.

You needed to shut it down. If you could just shut it all down then it would go away. Push the emotions away. Keep them locked up in that little box in your head you never opened. Never let them out again.

You’d get through this.

“Darling?”

A gentle hand landed on your shoulder and you jerked up. You blink, still not quite feeling the heat from the flames flickering in front of you. Standing at your shoulder, Larissa was looking down at you, worry marring her features.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, “has something happened?”

“A new case,” you replied, “woman found dead in her bed.”

“Oh.” You knew Larissa never really knew what to say when there was a new case.

It had taken a while for you to realise what your power was. Growing up, you hadn’t run across a lot of dead bodies. It was your uncle’s funeral and you’d terrified your parents, simulating his heart attack. Once they’d ascertained you were fine, you’d been grounded for a long time, and they never believed you that you’d felt it happening to him, that you’d lived it.

It had been natural for you to end up joining the police force once you were old enough. Only some days you resented it, having to put yourself through the trauma of death every time someone was killed. You could have avoided it, could have done anything else with your life, but you’d wanted to help people.

“Bad?” she asked, crouching down beside you.

“Well, it’s not great,” you replied.

She placed her hand on your knee, and finally warmth began to seep into you. You let out a long shuddering breath, burying your face in your hands again. You could see it again, could feel the bruises on your body forming that wouldn’t be there if you looked. The ghost of the hands around your neck, the slide of a knife across skin, it was overwhelming.

“You’re okay,” she said, her voice gentle, and you realised tears were running down your face, “you’re going to be okay.”

You lent forward, practically falling out of your chair. Her arms caught you, holding you tightly against her body as you began to tremble again. Your face was buried in her shoulder as you did your best to get your feelings back under control.

And all she did was wait there with you. Her presence was enough, her strength keeping you from falling completely apart. Just as she did every day. She was your rock, even if she didn’t know what was going on in your head.

She would always be your rock.

[seth-burroughs]

I did rotate a NDA/Amaterasu swap au in my head a few months back but I just got reminded of it now again soooo, some notes:

(ended up going a bit more loose with the swapping, essentially yuma is the homunculus and makoto's got amnesia, the NDA is Seth/Guillaume/Dominic/Martina with chief Yomi, the (post-ch0) peacekeepers are halara/desuhiko/fubuki/yakou with director Vivia because I sincerely think Yakou is too cringe for that. And just for the hehehe, Huesca is now Makoto's terrible shinigami while Shinigami dumps acid on people in the lab)

Makoto and Yuma change places but their personalities stay pretty similiar. Makoto keeps his eccentricity to #Cope and doesn't really trust others due to the whole amnesia thing. Yuma on the other hand becomes a prey animal after the entire homunculus event

I'm not exactly sure about the other fortes of the NDA except for Guillaume (who can alter the future with the requirement of having to use a plausible horoscope format, though i guess it's good she's having fun with it?) and Dominic (who is like, it's less that he's having a forte and more that he's just a super OP augmented human that has been through surgeries that made him able to shoot lasers out his eyes or something. we can even call him somewhat of an artificially created forte haver. he feels.... a lot of things regarding the whole thing). I do have a few ideas for Seth that I cannot articulate properly, but my mind just draws a blank on Martina. Maybe she gets some persuasion powers? like, if she focuses long enough on unethically interrogating some person or even just trying to get information out of a peacekeeper, they just eventually start uncontrollably spilling the beans via her cool mind control psychic powers affecting their thoughts and judgment and shit. Since that was similiar to her regular hobby in canon. Anyway that's in the works for now

Yomi is the chief of the NDA (for the longest time though it wasn't an agency even he just literally worked alone. not because detectives got discriminated against back then like in canon, but because he thought everyone who applied was extremely annoying for not meeting his impossible standards), and like Yakou in canon he does not have a forte. However, he acts pretty proud of it and how he unlike those other gifteds, actually had to put in effort and work harder for that position. He really hates his coworkers for having it that easy and and never passes up an opportunity to act superior to them and undermine everything they ever do, and invents slurs for people with magic powers. Very visibly actions of somebody that is actually totally confident in their abilities and themselves all along

He wasn't at all prepared for getting new subordinates, the WDO just called him at literal last minute saying they're gonna be delivering detectives to his sub the same week, then just hung up. He spent the next two days furiously vacuuming the place and throwing darts at the picture of master detective wikipedia article he printed out to put on his wall

He's very proud of his incredibly cool, glorious submarine he got with his own money back in the Glory Days. He's a very "stop fucking touching that get your hands off that furniture don't pick that up DON'T MOVE THHSE FFFUCKING SOPOT TRIP MAGNETS if you knock that over im gonna kill you make any mess in my sub and im gonna waterboard you in the shower" type of guy with his belongings. He doesn't appreciate the NDA being there and touching stuff. Unless they wanna sweep the floors in which case put on the maid suit Makoto. But he's still gonna just sit there in his chair and watch him and yell at him every ten seconds that he's doing it wrong

His personal "dead wife moment" was when Dr. Shizuka (Shinigami) ran over his darling boytoy hitman Zilch Alexander with her truck and reversed on him over four times before driving off . it was the night of their wedding

Halara is the chief of the investigations team, and is actually mildly interested in actually investigating the cases themself. Used to have aspirations to become a detective in their younger days, but didn't think it would be more beneficial to them than, say, becoming a peacekeeper. With their cool immunity benefits and pay. They love money, definitely not above bribery either. Still love cats more than humans.

Extremely confident in their strength and superior intelligence, to the point of feeling simply untouchable. They never quite considered the possibility of actually finding out after fucking around for such a long time during the nail man killings, and when director Vivia plainly told them they're fired and going to the chopper for that, their mind just short circuited for a moment from the influx of this incomprehensible information. Of course, they did not let themself get taken away, but are from that point on the run.

They think they're the smartest person in the room, however they never actually went through any training in being a detective or anything like that, and thus can.... severely overestimate their ability to get away with things. Especially when Vivia's around. Oh well!

Director Vivia is. Well first of all are you familiar with dark era Dazai bsd just asking for no particular reason. He allows himself to get pretty silly with it every once in a while, but generally he's just. Personality of canon Vivia with the sadism of canon Yomi, but also Not Really

Doesn't really like shows of power that much, and prefers to stay out of public as much as he can; whenever he is called to take care of a case himself, he will make it very clear he's too pissed off to tolerate any Funny Stuff. Eerily aware of everything that happens in his city, he possesses a lot of knowledge that he realistically just shouldn't even have access to. His subordinates treat him as some sort of powerful eldritch god. He's pretty apathetic to it though.

Yomi acts really weird whenever he's mentioned for some reason.

Nowwww onto Yakou, Vivia's slutty slutty vice-director.... haha just kidding, he's just replacing his wife for the week. She's at home sick <3

Kind of really cringe and not evil enough for this, but Vivia still wants him to get a divorce eventually. He's kind of the only person that isn't batshit scared of Vivia, because they actually did bond over at some rooftop smoking cigarettes looking into each other's eyes one night a few years back. And also he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the many benefits of being the director's faaaaaavouriiite~ a bit.

He's not a good person by any means do not get fooled by his wet rat charm. None of the NDA-turned-peacekeepers are good people now, not even Fubuki who loves to explode things for fun or Desuhiko who's honestly really just an underqualified nepo baby in this au

If anyone is curious about this then my ask box is open. I just kinda got too sleepy right now and left the summary at just that, but there was probably more that I forgot........

[rocksinmuffin]

Hey, love that your requests are open again. It's my birthday this week, so I was wondering of you had time to write this scenario: Rung on Earth using a holoform to study humans. But he kinda accidentally falls for one and asks the reader out on a nighttime Park date and can tiring himself to tell her that he's not human xxx

It’s easy to fall for you because Rung is already a little in love with all of humanity by the time he meets you.

Living hidden among the humans, Rung has gotten to see a side of them that he has never known before. A side of them that is so mundane and charming to him. For every elevator door held open, every snack shared, every song hummed, every hand held, Rung falls deeper and deeper. It’s the little everyday moments that do it for him; the little things that are so second nature that most people take those moments for granted.

Humans are so short lived. Every moment is precious.

You’re walking at least eight separate dogs when he first meets you, every one of them a different size and breed. The various leashes you hold crisscross and tangle with one another as the dogs scurry and weave and run together. Occasionally, one of the smaller dogs will run around you, wrapping the leash around your legs, and you just laugh every time you narrowly avoid tripping.

It’s a very lovely laugh, Rung thinks to himself.

At one point, one of the larger dogs gets loose, end of the leash slipping through your fingers as the dog comes rushing towards him.

Holoforms are not perfect. While humans fall for them easily, most animals are able to detect something off. Cats and dogs seem especially sensitive to this.

Rung is not at all surprised when the dog stops about two feet away from the bench he’s sitting at, lowers it’s head to the ground, and starts barking. It’s clearly agitated but not all too threatening as it yelps then jumps back, only to start up another round of upset barking.

You’re already sputtering out apologies when you approach him, quickly grabbing the dog’s leash and securing the strap back around your arm. A few more of the dogs with you start barking at him but you just raise your voice to be heard over them. You ask him if he’s okay and apologize again before he can say anything, hands moving from one dog to another as you pet and soothe them.

He tells you there’s no harm done. You let out a sigh of relief then let out a short nervous laugh.

Your laugh is even lovelier up close when he can see the curve of your lip and the crinkles of your eyes.

You talk for a little bit. He learns that the dogs are not yours; this is one of your many jobs but it is by far your favorite of them all. You make this trip every day around this same time, walking around the entire park once before turning back to take the dogs home. You tell him, if he’s interested, you’re always open to taking on more clients and Rung watches you take a out pen that you had been hiding behind your ear and allows you to write your phone number on his palm of his holoform even though he has no dogs to walk.

He sees you the next day and you extend an arm laden in leashes out to wave. He waves back.

You do the same the next day and the day after that. The following day you trip when the smaller dog tangles the leash around your leg and Rung is close enough to grab your arm and steady you before you can hit the ground. Every day after that, you stop when you see him and chat for a couple minutes.

Eventually, the dogs become so accustomed to his presence they stop barking at him. Since the dogs are no longer nervous, the short chats grow longer and longer with every passing day.

Rung knows he has feelings for you when he finds himself wanting to see you outside your daily dog-walking excursions. He stares out at nothing as he daydreams about your smile and your laugh, spark thrumming warm in his chest.

The ink stain has long since disappeared but Rung still remembers the number you messily scrawled on his holoform’s skin. So he calls you. And when he expresses the intent to meet with you during your free time, you reciprocate and agree.

Realistically, Rung knows that this is something that cannot last. He’s not human and eventually you will find out. Rather, he will tell you, because you are sweet and he cares about you and you do not deserve to be deceived.

But that can wait until after tonight. For now, Rung focuses on you, on the way the moonlight paints you in a new light that would take his breath away of he had lungs. He focuses on the way your eyes shine brighter than the fireflies that glow around you. He focuses on the feelings that buzz through his spark as he feels himself falling in love with the earth all over again.

[llostwriter]

The Husky And The White Cat Shizun With Their Baobei

Chapter 11

You left the library upon remembering that Chu Wanning didn’t even finish his dinner. You took the stored-up, still--fresh lotus cakes from your last time visit to the stalls and went over to the mechanism room, fully knowing that Chu Wanning would be there. “Disciple y/n is here to see Shizun.” You did your usual courtesy and waited for Shizun’s approval before stepping inside.

You: “Disciple y/n is here to give Shizun some lotus cakes as a treat and an apology for Shidi Mo Ran’s rude behavior.”

This wasn’t the first time that you did it, so you ended up leaving the wrapped up lotus cakes on the table before taking your leave.

Chu Wanning’s voice stopped you: “Disciple, is there something that you want to tell me?”

Your mind went back to Mo Ran and Shi Mei. You weren’t sure if you should snitch on them. But does it even count as snitching if Shizun already knows about it? Would Shi Mei even get in trouble if he was doing it out of good will? You were complementing before deciding to tell Shizun, “Shi Mei has visited the library to help Mo Ran with the bandage dressings.”

Chu Wanning left the room. Then you realized that Shi Mei never asked for permission to even enter the library.

——

The next morning, breakfast was served at Meng Po Lobby. As usual, you and Shizun sat away from the crowd. It actually wasn’t intentional; whenever Shizun sits near a certain location in the Meng Po Lobby, the crowds of disciples will often sit elsewhere. Chu Wanning seems to have gotten used to that treatment. Mo Ran, Xue Meng, and Shi Mei sit elsewhere.

A month quickly passed without any major issues; it was time for Mo Ran to accompany Shizun out to eliminate demons. According to the rules of Sisheng Peak, any disciples who have been in the sect for about a month have to go out and eliminate demons. Even your second past life was no exception, even though your second past life has no holy weapons and hardly any spiritual power.

Same as last life, Mo Ran invited you and Shi Mei. You remembered that in your second past life, Chu Wanning was injured by one of the fierce spirits. Each long slash on his shoulder was for you and Mo Ran. One for you. One for Mo Ran. In your second past life, you didn’t have any holy weapons, so you weren’t much help. There was even some guilt in your past self for not rejecting Mo Ran’s invitation.

Your past self wasn’t careful enough and didn’t know any better about the true danger of the fictional world. Your past self thought that you could watch from afar as the story plot began and and simply be a bystander without any consequences. It’s like seeing the live version of the novel in person. With your low spiritual power, you weren’t able to detect danger until the last moment. In a matter of time, you were nearly abducted by a spirit if it weren’t for Shizun saving you.

Past Mo Ran did show concerns for you, which you ignored since you were more worried about Shizun’s injuries. Mo Ran, at that time, didn’t even care at all about the injuries on Chu Wanning’s back, seeming too busy with Shi Mei. You remembered him sneering at your reminder of Shizun’s injury and him saying, “That bastard had it coming toward him anyway.”

At that time, the urge to want to give Mo Ran a backhand slap was insane, but you calmed yourself down by reminding yourself that he’s still the main character.

But this time in this lifetime, you’re going to make sure that Shizun won’t get injured. After the three disciples reported back to Shizun, they rode their horses and arrived at Colorful Butterfly Town. Colorful Butterfly Town is well known for being filled with evil spirits. Your body’s original village was invaded by evil spirits, resulting in the deaths of your body’s grandma, Ying Qin, and several other villagers. The aid arrived too late.

You only know about that in your current life; in your second past life, you never asked for the reason behind her death. She treats you like a granddaughter, yet you never got close to her. Even until her deathbed, you still never told her about the truth of not being her true granddaughter. In your second past life, you didn’t even attend her funeral.

Perhaps it was out of guilt that, in this third life, you asked Shizun to give you free time away from sect. You attended the funeral and assisted with the burial of hundreds of the victims of the massacre.

It was nighttime by the time the four of them got there. The four of them turned to see the commotion and booming sounds. A group of musicians playing the suona as they emerged from the alleyway were dressed in brilliant red. With curiosity, Shi Mei inquired, "Is this a wedding? Why are they getting married at night? Says Chu Wanning, "It's a ghost wedding." "The Colorful Butterfly Town was a very rich town; however, they have a very peculiar art of geomancy. The people thought that a ghost's single status could harm the family's luck,” you explained as you jumped in on their conversation.

Mo Ran almost snickered at your mention of "single,” but you ignored him and continued, “Therefore, the people will arrange a marriage for the men and women who died young before marriage.”

—-

Mo Ran: “It appears that Shixiong y/n knows a lot about this; did Shixiong sneak into the library without Shizun’s permission and borrow a book related to the mission location beforehand?”

Hearing Mo Ran’s tone, you know that he was trying to make things difficult for you, blaming you for the fact that he and Shi Mei got caught. Even without you telling Chu Wanning anything, Shizun would still know about it.

The enormous ghost marriage squad was split into two columns, one bearing ghost money and paper ingots and the other real silk and satin. In this manner, the community was invaded one by one by a red and white sedan chair with eight bearers, a complete complement of golden lights, and deacons.

The horses were pulled to the side to allow the group of ghost weddings to pass by first. You saw the sight of Mo Ran shivering upon seeing a paper-made ghost bride covered in makeup, bright red lips, and two rosy clouds on the cheeks, staying in a terrifying smiling state. Seeing it a second time, it didn’t give you as much fright as the first time.

Shi Mei whispered, "Where is this group of ghost weddings going?"

Following Shizun’s lengthy explanation, With that, the four of you head toward the household for the person who made the reports of ghosts.

——

Chen Yuanwai: "Four Daoists, my life is really bitter! You're finally here! If no one cares about this matter, I don't even want to live anymore.”

Remembering how the incident ended with Chu Wanning getting punished for his morals because this worthless man decided to report Chu Wanning for “randomly attacking an innocent civilian,”

You have the urge to roll your eyes and reply, “Oh well, if you don’t want to live anymore, then quit living; stop making trouble for the living.” But you kept it inside your mouth.

The Chen family was famous for their fragrance powder business. Sneaky and greedy to the point of ruining the love of a woman through lying and manipulation. It was difficult to remember the names of the side characters, but you did remember that the Chen family had tons of sons and only one daughter. Rich enough to use dirty money to purchase land.

Chen Yuanwai, otherwise known as Landlord Chen, and Madam Chen began their rants about how misfortune has fallen upon their families and each of their children is dying off. It wasn’t misfortune; it was karma.

Shi Mei: “Did the body show any signs of poisoning?"

Landlord Chen mentioned the youngest being the next victim, catching Chu Wanning’s suspicion: “How do you know that the youngest will be the next one?”

The mentioned youngest son appeared to be overfrightened and begged the four to help him. He almost lost control of his emotions and rushed over to grab Chu Wanning’s legs. When you loudly interrupted, “Do not worry, we will find a way to solve this issue.”

The youngest son seemed to have realized you were staring at him intensely; therefore, he cowardly backed into the corner.

You visited the ancestral room and saw several rows of memorial tablets and pale candles burning on both sides.

The name of the youngest son, Chen Yanji, was engraved in red. Madam Chen cried loudly, while the youngest son’s face turned pale like a ghost.

Landlord Chen mentioned his failed attempts to stop the incidents before he knelt down with a thud and said, "I, Chen Yuanwai, have never done anything evil in my life. Why did God do this to me? Why? "

—-

Madam Chen appeared offended upon Shizun’s accusation of her being behind the deaths of her child, before Chu Wanning explained the possibility of her writing in her sleep. Chu Wanning raised his hand, pouring spiritual energy into his palm to destroy the evil spirit embedded inside the tablet.

It succeeded with the tablet shattering into pieces.

You swiftly use the Xian'ye (the holy fan) you prepared beforehand to stop the blood from tainting Chu Wanning’s gorgeous face. However, as a result, Xian’ye ended up getting dirtied.

“AH! You ungrateful bastard! How dare you dirty my coating?” You heard Xian’ye curse in your mind, but you ignored him.

—-

[Before Chu Wanning left the room, he sneaked the lotus cakes given by you into his sleeves to eat later.]

[morganaspendragonss]

a worry that i can't place

happy holidays vera (@lutavero)!!! here is your secret santa gift, i hope you like it! i chose to focus on the superhero and fluff with established relationship prompts. sending you so much love and all the best for now and the new year! 💚💚💚

also please send me your ao3 if you have one i forgot to ask sorryyyyy

ao3 | 1.4k | au based in canon, canon-typical injury, remember that time buck got struck by lightning in 911?

title from ease my mind by ben platt

“TK! TK! Firefighter Strand, do you copy?”

“I haven’t got a pulse!”

“Do better!”

*

Carlos had grown used, over the years, to the bruises and scratches that appeared on TK’s skin every now and then. He was used to the blowing in and out, the late nights and early mornings, the unpredictability of their lives. It was all part and parcel of being married to an international superhero.

Or, officially, ex-international superhero. As far as everyone else was concerned, The Flash had gone offline years ago and conspiracy theories were left swirling in his wake; some claimed he’d died, others that he was in witness protection, others still that he was being hunted and so had to keep a low profile. 

Carlos knew the truth: that TK had been suffering in New York under the constant pressure of being the city’s salvation. There’s a longer story there, too, one that he’s not quite managed to draw out in its entirety, but he’s aware of the heartbreaking gist.

(“My dad found me,” TK told him one night, about a year into their relationship. “Drink and drugs don’t touch me anymore, they haven’t since… Anyway, they didn’t work so I went looking for trouble.

“I found it.”)

He can read well enough between the lines of nuclear breakup and everything’s just grey to figure out what TK meant.

But, TK had confessed, as much as he had wanted to get away from the spotlight, he was never going to be able to give it up entirely. He still had to do something with this power he’d been given.

So Carlos knows a second truth: that The Flash isn’t really gone. 

He worries, of course he does. It’s impossible not to when your boyfriend-fiancé-husband is off doing god-knows-what – and that’s only when he’s at work. But Carlos grows used to it, stops freaking out at the minor injuries TK sometimes sustains and starts being ready with whatever TK might need, even if it is just a warm bed to climb into and a husband to hold.

But there’s something – it got lost between Iris and the wedding and his father and work and and and, but Carlos remembers – that keeps bothering him, that’s made his fear increase of late. 

He’s anxious enough anyway, given what TK’s been through just at work, but…

“Babe?” 

TK rouses from his position on his lap, blinking sleepily up at Carlos. He’d got off shift a couple of hours prior and they’d not long had dinner; TK tends to go out like a light pretty quickly after being fed. Carlos feels bad for disturbing him now, but he has to know.

“What did you mean, three comas?”

TK’s brow scrunches up adorably in confusion. “Huh?”

“When Iris was here,” he clarifies. “You said you’d been in three comas, but only two since you came to Austin. I know about those two, but you’ve never told me about the third. Or…first, I guess.”

“Oh.” TK pats at Carlos’s arm to be let up, and once he’s sitting, he throws Carlos a wry grin. “I thought I’d gotten away with that one. Nice recall, Detective.”

“Still not a detective,” Carlos corrects mildly, but – not the point. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, TK. I guess… I worry about you when you’re out there. On the job you have people to back you up and you still got hurt enough to end up in a coma. Twice. You don’t have that the other times. I just want to know that you’re safe.”

TK smiles and leans in to kiss his cheeks. “You’re sweet,” he says. “And you already know I save the most dangerous stuff for work. But if you’re asking if the first coma was anything to do with The Flash…” He trails off and waits. Carlos nods, biting his lip. “Then yes.”

A trembling sigh leaves Carlos, but he doesn’t have time to ask further before TK speaks again.

“And no.”

Carlos sends TK a look his husband smiles, though it’s not quite as bright as usual. There’s something sad in it, something that speaks to a thousand memories, and he turns his gaze to his hand. Carlos follows it, and has to swallow a surprised sound when he spots a thin line of electricity crackle between TK’s fingers. 

He knows exactly how TK carries that electricity with him everyday, felt it the first time they’d touched in the honky tonk. He thought he’d been imagining it at the time, but… Well.

“Do you remember when I told you who I am?”

Carlos nods. “Sure.”

(Just a couple months into their relationship, it was one of their worst fights to date. It almost broke them; probably would have if TK hadn’t shown up on his doorstep hours later, vibrating with nerves until he seemed blurred around the edges – which, Carlos realised later, he was.

TK sat him down, remaining standing himself, and told him this: that, fresh out of rehab, he’d been struck by lightning; that it had given him superhuman powers; that he was the fastest man alive, the man the whole world knew as The Flash.

That his ex-boyfriend had never known the truth, that it had been one of the reasons they fell apart so spectacularly, that he didn’t want the same thing to happen to them but he would understand – really, he would – if Carlos wanted to walk away.

Staying had been one of the easiest decisions Carlos had ever made, second only to being with TK in the first place.)

“I didn’t… I’ve never told you how I became…this. I didn’t mean to hide it from you – honestly, I don’t remember most of it – but I guess I just thought it didn’t really matter. It happened and I just have to live with it.”

TK looks at him and Carlos nods encouragingly.

“Okay then.”

*

TK had never seen a storm like it. Some billionaire’s science experiment had gone wrong and now the city was having to clean up their mess on top of all the usual calls, and apparently their mess included torrential weather.

So now TK was climbing up the ladder of the truck to an apartment on the eleventh floor where an electrical surge had electrocuted one of the inhabitants. TK loved his job, but at the moment he would rather be anywhere else than out in the freezing cold. It didn’t help that his immune system was still shot and probably would be for the foreseeable.

He reached the top of the ladder and lifted his gloved hand to wipe rainwater out of his eye, useless though the action was. The sky continued thundering above him, lightning flashing every now and then, and the very air felt charged. TK went to grab his radio, managed to press the button and opened his mouth, then–

Nothing.

*

“It wasn’t a normal bolt of lightning,” TK continues. “If it had been, none of this would have happened. I was in cardiac arrest for a long time, then I fell into a coma for eight months. My heart stopped multiple times, I was having seizures, there were…things going on inside me that the doctors couldn’t explain.

“I was a mystery to them. My dad told me after I woke up that one of them had wanted to do a scientific study on me; he shut that one down pretty quick. Nothing the doctors did worked and my parents were getting desperate. So when the guy who built that reactor showed up and told them he could save me, it was kind of a no brainer.

“I don’t know what they did to me, but I eventually woke up and I stayed at his lab for a while, long enough to recover and figure out how to use these powers. They tried to stop me from leaving but I couldn’t… I hated that place. After that…well, you pretty much know the rest.”

TK falls silent and Carlos doesn’t know what to say. The story hasn’t changed anything, has neither alleviated his fears nor worsened them, but at least he knows now, he supposes.

(at least he has one more thing to add to his nightmares)

He doesn’t say anything in the end. He simply draws TK closer, and swears to protect him as best he can.

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Ooo hiii what about teen!reader who refuses to cry Infront of people who randomly either just bursts into tears or someone notices that they have tears in their eyes. If possible with Luke Alvez or Matt Simmons cause I do t think there's enough content for them 😅

Luke Alvez X Teen Reader

Request: what about teen!reader who refuses to cry Infront of people who randomly either just bursts into tears or someone notices that they have tears in their eyes. If possible with Luke Alvez or Matt Simmons cause I do t think there's enough content for them

so sorry for not updating for ages its been busy getting ready to back to collage, i start next week so i wont be able to update as much as i want anymore but i will update when i can!

Third person pov...

15 year old Y/N L/N watch as detectives and forensics walk in and out the door of their crime scene ridden house, only hours before the teen was surrounded by their family hzppy and smiling, now nothing but a mask as they sit covered in blood.

The detectives have tried many times to get the teen to move, get cleaned up and checked over but have long given up they weren’t going to leave their house, the detectives knew that now.

The 15 year old sits on the sofa where he hadn’t moved since it happened tears threatening to fall but they didn’t let them they wouldn’t cry.

Flashback…

The L/N house was filled with laughter as they all sat in the living room laughing at the game show they all sat down to watch, it was the chase as usual they all worked to answer the questions right.

Even the usually quiet Y/N was yelling out answers if they knew it. Suddenly their laughter was cut short when a knock sounded on the door, for the past couple weeks the whole town has been on lock down.

There was a suspected serial killer on the loose killing happy families but only leaving one witness not just alive but traumatised. So Y/Ns dad took a gun with him as he when to open the door.

The rest of the family went back to the game show, minutes pass and Y/Ns dad still hadn’t returned. The teen stood from their seat “im going to see what dad is doing” they say making their way through the living room.

Once the teen was in the hallway they turned towards the door where their dad was, the teen eyes widened they saw a strange man dressed in black pointing a gun at their dads head.

10 minutes later Y/N and their family were tied up by the unsub who was finishing tying up Y/Ns younger brother. “its going to be okay Y/B/N” whispers the teen, the 10 year old looks at his sibling and nods.

Hours later the Unsub had killed each and everyone of Y/Ns family, only the teen was left surrounded by the bodies of their family, they refused to cry which made the unsub angry.

The man had hit and kicked Y/N trying to get a reaction out of them but the teen wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction. “this is no fun now come on cry even a little you robot!” yells the unsub smashing a nearby vase but Y/N stayed stoic they would survive.

They had too, their locked with his little brothers cold dead ones, he had too this bastard had to pay for killing their family.

As the teen continues to stare down the unsub who smirked and took out his gun and pointed it the teen head, Y/Ns eyes widened slightly and held his shaking hands tightly, the gun was still pointed at their head, the unsub pulled the safety but the shot never came.

A knock came from the door, Y/N sighs softly saved by a neighbour, the unsub tsk and puts the gun away, he glares at the door but turns to the back door and leaves Y/N alone. “ill be back for you ill make you cry” he promises Y/N hears the door shut and begin frantically trying to get loose.

Instead they begin shouting for help.

End of flashback…

Suddenly the teen was back in their house still surrounded by officers the bodies long been taken away the blood was cleaned away but the scene wasn’t disturbed. The sheriff was one the officers there he was a close friend of the L/N family.

Soon two black SUVs arrive and out comes 6 people three woman and 3 men all had sunglasses on. The sheriff walks over to them “you must be the BAU, thank you for coming im really out of my league here, this is the L/N house the most react victims” he explained, “im SSA Emily Prentiss, these are Agents Lewis, Alvez, Jareau, Rossi and Dr Reid” says Emily.

The team are then shown to the crime scene

But they were met with something completely unexpected. A teen, no more than 15 years old, sat in the living room surrounded by crime scene detectives, and although tears were notoriously difficult to stop, they refused to cry in front of anyone, instead forcing their face into a stoic mask.

Luke Alves looked at the traumatized teen, who had been a victim to the Unsub. Only their entire family had perished, but yet still the teen refused to cry. Luke did his best to stay professional, but the sight of such a brave and resilient young person in the face of such heartbreaking tragedy made Luke's heart heavy. He slowly approached the teen, sitting beside them on the sofa and introducing himself. The teen still refused to speak, yet Luke patiently waited, giving the teen time to process their emotions and build up the courage to talk. After several awkward moments, the teen finally opened up, telling Luke their heartbreaking story. The teen went on to tell Luke how the Unsub had taken away their family one by one, with the teen being the only one who managed to escape. As the teen began to become overwhelmed again, Luke simply placed a comforting hand on their shoulder and tried his best to remain as non-judgemental as possible.

It was clear to Luke that the teen had experienced enough harsh judgement and criticism in their life already, and so he simply listened and gave the teen the time and space they needed to express themselves. The conversation became a bit easier for the teen as they moved on to talk about their hobbies and dreams for the future. It was the first time Luke had seen the teen show any emotion other than sadness and grief in the wake of their family’s death. It was through Luke's gentle encouragement and compassion that the teen was finally able to begin the healing process. By the end of the conversation, the teen was even showing small signs of smiling and laughing.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot for Luke sorry for the wait. Sorry for the grammar and spelling mistakes.

Request are open!

word count: 1150