#why does the image look so drained of color omg

[luyo-mi]

Big bros

[yelenasdog]

it was a pleasure to burn (spencer reid x fem bau!reader)

genre: fluff i think even though the name is v angsty LOL it’s a literal screenplay with the amout of dialogue i wrote LMAO so idk

summary: a particularly rough and disturbing case gets to reader, and spencer and reader are brought together by this.

words: just about 6k (my longest fic ahhHH)

warnings: typical criminal minds gore and violence just up a notch, they get on a plane at the end, somebody gets ~shot~, somebody gets ~bonked~, cursing, mentions of reid’s addiction, and i think that’s it. also the reader wears reading glasses but that’s the only predetermined factor of appearance. btw i don’t think i used any pronouns in this but i apologize if i’m wrong. 

a/n: LMFAO i was outside awhile ago celebrating litha with a nice lil hike and i saw a butterfly and i had just started watching cm and was like hMMm... killer who’s obsessed with symmetry??!1??!? y Es. enjoy 😼 EDIT: THERE IS SO MANY PLOT HOLES OMG FBREHJBFHEJFRE IM RBFBRE

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

Present Day, Central Park, New York

“Aren’t they just stunning?” The unsub spoke, keeping her eyes trained on the butterfly sitting happily on her finger. The brightly colored creature fluttered off her hand that was dripping scarlet, flying around her curly head of brown hair. Her, formerly white, blood-stained dress flowed around her as she followed it, watching in awe as it soared about. She giggled, plopping down on the grass in the middle of a circle of her victim’s pale, lifeless bodies, all of them with ironically morbid butterflies resting upon the frail skin of the corpses.

“Aren’t they, agents?”

She slanted her green eyes, gripping the grass a little harder. I flicked my tongue over my lips nervously, looking over to the lanky man on my left. He simply shrugged, just about as sure of how to handle the situation just as much as I was.

“If I knew you all were coming, I would have cleaned up, I really would have, I promise.”

We slowly walked towards her, twigs and leaves crunching under our feet. It could have been comparable to a hunter stalking its prey, but it unfortunately was quite the opposite.

6 days earlier, Quantico, Virginia

“3 bodies, all found within the last 48 hours in rural New York. So far, the first body has revealed that although it was dumped upstate, the victim was murdered in the city, and the same most likely goes for the other bodies as well. Nails well manicured, no drugs in the system. They aren't junkies, we’re dealing with upper class citizens.”

My face contorted as I took the photos from Reid’s hands, his large and tanned one surprising me by how soft it felt as it accidentally brushed against mine. I blushed like a madman, looking to see him doing the same thing. I cleared my throat getting Rossi’s attention.

“Why are we only now hearing of this?” I questioned, flipping through the images as I did so, my confusion only growing. I didn’t recieve an answer, leaving my curiosity to bloom.

“Wait, how did you say they were killed again?”

Morgan looked up, taking the photos from me. “He didn’t.”

I sighed, pushing my glasses up on my nose.

“Is there at least any correlation between the bodies and the butterflies?”

Our attention was shifted to JJ, the resident expert on the insects.

“Actually, the ones being found with the bodies are from the Amarynthis family, all native to Latin America. They weren’t there by accident so yes, they’re somehow related.”

Rossi stood up, grabbing his coat.

“Well, none of this is nearly enough for a profile, so pack your bags and tell the others, wheels up in an hour. We’re headed to New York.”

4 days earlier, F.B.I. Field Office, New York, New York

“The final report from the latest victim is in, all the autopsies are clean. They show no signs of struggles, no marks, no blood, no anything. The eyes weren’t bloodshot, so suffocation is ruled out, and that was our best bet.”

I sighed, sliding the case file across the glass table to Spence as I took my seat, sinking into it and allowing myself to be consumed by its warmth.

“So what your saying is that we’re back at square one.”

I looked up at Hotch from where I sat, running my hand through my ponytail.

“Yeah. That’s what I’m saying.”

Just then, the young Doctor spoke up as he flipped through the pages.

“The eyes weren’t just not bloodshot, there was barely any blood left in any of the victims bodies, only about 3% of the volume left. The killer drained them.”

Morgan gave me a shocked expression, silently asking for an explanation.

“Which you failed to mention, Y/n.” Aaron spoke, agitation once again present in his voice.

I looked at the ceiling, crossing my arms in front of me before turning to face Hotch once more.

“Yeah, well, I thought it was obvious when I said no blood.” I stuttered out cautiously.

“On the bodies! Not in the bodies!” Morgan exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in what was in my opinion, very childish. Everyone else in the room aside from Spencer was either shaking their heads or pinching the bridge of their noses, and reasonably so.

“Look, I’m sorry I just didn’t see it in the report, plus, In the scheme of things, it just doesn’t seem to matter.”

I soon regretted my words, realizing how ill-fit they were for the current conversation I was having. Spencer looked up, tilting his head.

“Doesn’t seem to matter? How? There’s an endless amount of possibilities now that we know this. If we had known it sooner we probably could have figured out the pattern and caught the one doing this!” He harshly spewed, his voice acting like a crescendo of sorts, quiet and calm and moving towards a loud and violent tone. Tears began to prick at the corners of my eyes and I was starting to feel guilty, not to mention absolutely stupid as could be.

“I’m- I really am sorry guys, truly.”

Hotch locked eyes with me, taking a stern tone that one would usually take with a disobedient child, perhaps even Jack.

“I hope that’s a comfort to you when another body shows up. That’s their blood on your hands.”

I was frozen, the gravity of the situation taking its toll.

In the background I heard him say something to Morgan about a new profile having to be made as there were many new things to be known from this revelation. But it all went in one ear and out the other, just unpleasant white noise.

As I clumsily stumbled out of the room, I felt Reid’s eyes burning holes into the back of my brain. I was quick to turn my head to meet his glance, causing him to look down. I felt bad, the weight on my chest growing heavier from the interaction.

I sat down at my desk, turning on my computer and immediately going to google. I typed in “hypnosis” and let the info trickle in.

About 30 minutes later, I still felt absolutely horrible, but I had also put together a valuable profile in the time that had passed. I shut the newly finished file, blowing an abandoned strand of hair out from my eyes. I had to do a double take when I saw Spencer staring once more, his deep hazel eyes meeting my own. I gave him a small smile before standing up and walking to Hotch’s makeshift New York office. I pushed open the heavy door, placing the folder on his too-clean desk.

“What’s this?” He asked, taking it in his hands.

“My theory about the unsub. I think I know what she’s been doing. You can tell the team if you want, I’m not sure if they would wanna hear it from me. ”

He gave a small smile, pushing the file back over to me.

“You get the team together and I’ll get the local PD caught up. You tell them yourself.”

A few minutes later, everyone except for Reid had gathered in the meeting room. I peeked through the half closed blinds that allowed a line of vision to his desk in an attempt to locate him. He was positioned there, staring blankly at his laptop that appeared to have nothing on the screen. I knocked on the window lightly to catch his attention, his glazed over eyes looking in my direction. I tilted my head at him, silently beckoning him to join me. He only shook his in response, shaggy brown locks swaying back and forth. I sighed, frowning at his action. I turned to the group, clasping my hands in front of me.

“Everyone, this will just be a second if you’ll excuse me.”

With a raised eyebrow from Hotchner and a jab in the direction of Spencer’s workspace, I swiftly walked out of the crowded room.

“Spence, care to join us?” I asked, resting one of my hands against my hip, the other on his orderly desk.

“No, I don’t think I will. I need to try to figure this out before she finds her next victim.”

“What makes you think the unsub is a she?” I searched his eyes that had seemingly become brighter at my piqued interest in his hypothesis.

“Well, the unsub seems to be obsessed with symmetry, all the bodies being found in obscure yet symmetrical positions. This could suggest she had some sort of deep rooted insecurity, possibly from some sort of bullying from growing up in a small town where she was looked at as a superior for subpar looks. She moved to the big city, expecting a big break. Instead she was shunned for being less than average. She grew frustrated and as a result, she began her killing spree. The stresser could have been one too many insults that made her snap. Plus, that would account for the butterflies left on the scenes that are used in modern examples of both femininity and symmetry.”

I smiled widely at his words.

“What- why are you smiling, what are you smiling at?”

I tapped his desk, rolling my bottom lip between my teeth. I headed back towards the conference room, looking over my shoulder.

“Because, I’m glad we’re on the same page, Dr.”

——————

“So, our girl, as Dr. Reid has explained to us, is obsessed with her appearance. She’s an organized killer, no mistakes and no signs of blood or anything of the sort on scene. She has practice, she does this sort of thing every day. She is most likely in the age group of 23-30, and has a job in the cosmetic industry, our guess is in plastic surgery. She probably volunteers weekends at local butterfly sanctuaries or zoos, finding comfort in their perfection that those in her life, or formerly in her life, cannot and could not provide.”

“Which would explain to her easy access to non-native species of the insects. She has an absolute infatuation with symmetry, which yet again, links the butterflies on the crime scene to her MO.”

Spencer and I were vividly explaining our shared theory to the team, as well as local law enforcement. He was excited by his discovery and the lead on the killer, and his energy was contagious.

“She kills without remorse and out of jealousy, picking victims who all have one thing in common.”

Spence pointed to all of the images pasted on the board in the center of the room, all of them split in half and reflected, creating a perfect mirrored portrait.

“They all have perfectly symmetrical faces, as well as strong jawlines and high cheekbones. As most of these victims are models or those searching to start a modeling career, we believe she is luring them in with a photographer trope, promising to make their dreams come true.”

I nodded, taking a moment to study Reid’s own sharp yet somehow soft features. I allowed my eyes to wander over his sunken in, kind, and curious eyes; his pillowy pink lips that are in dire need of some chapstick.

“Agent?”

I turned my head, snapped back to reality by Rossi calling my name.

I gave a tight and quick smile, returning to the topic at hand and tactics to catch the unsub. But of course not before Emily gave me a crooked smile, resulting in me rolling my eyes.

“Physically, she’s nothing special, most likely a mundane appearance or one with quite obvious surgical changes. No in between. Check all of the plastic surgeon offices in the area for both employees who fit our description, as well as a patient who has gotten any serious facial mod operations. Do the same for any weekend volunteers at local zoos and animal sanctuaries, specifically working with any insects.”

It was an NYPD officer then that spoke up this time, raising her hand briefly.

“But, you still haven’t mentioned how she’s killing them?”

“Hypnosis.” Reid and I both spoke at the same time. He looked to his black Converse, sliding his hands into his pockets. I observed the room and all of the skeptical faces filling it.

“Even if it may sound far fetched, we saw no signs of anything that indicated a struggle or even any marks or wounds. This led us to believe that some form of hypnosis was used to allow her an easy kill. This means extra caution will have to be taken when actually handling the unsub. Even though we’re positive she’s using hypnosis, which method she is using to actually kill them after the fact is what we’re unsure of.”

I turned to Spencer, handing off the explanation to him.

“We think that because of her whole thing with symmetry, she wouldn’t want to disturb the natural state of the victims and their faces, even if she would do the same to her own.”

“Which means?” JJ asked, her blue eyes slanted and glossed lips left ajar.

“It means that the unsub wouldn’t want to leave any large marks like stab or gunshot wounds.” I nodded at Prentiss, who had made the assumption, confirming she was correct.

“With her presumed background in plastic surgery, we believe she was able to make small incisions that made no visible scars. We’re having the coroner look back over the bodies as we speak.”

“She drains the body’s blood 97% of the way before closing the holes up. What she does with the blood, we don’t know. Another Eddie Mays, perhaps.”

I looked over to Spencer, raising my brows at his comparison. He was quick to defend himself, shaking his hands left to right and mouthing “No” while simultaneously shaking his head the same way, something he seemed to be doing often as of late.

After we had finished consulting with any officers who had remaining questions, we branched off to conduct our own routine investigations. We found that the only thing they all had in common apart from the symmetrical faces, is that they all had visited the Central Park Zoo in the 24 hours before they were killed. We received a phone call from Garcia not long after we put together those pieces, being alerted that there was one girl who had, in her words, “Hit every mark there was to hit, sunshine.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

“Her name is Alessia Copelas, she works weekdays as a surgeon's assistant at Premier Cosmetic, and weekends at Central Park Zoo from 4-8 p.m.”

I smiled at the new info from the blonde bombshell known as Penelope, turning to Reid who was still looking at me quizzically.

“Alright, thanks babes, you’re the best.” I spoke into the phone, a comical “Mwah!” made from either side as we hung up.

He shook his head, keeping the odd look on his face.

“I swear, you guys have a weirder relationship than her and Morgan.”

I laughed, sliding my phone into my back pocket.

“Oh, please, Spence.” I gingerly placed a hand on his cheek, patting it twice.

“You’re just jealous.” I made a pouty face, letting my hand linger before walking off. “Come on, we’re going on a field trip.”

“Where to?” He asked, gripping the door frame, using it as leverage to swing himself closer to me. He took long and quick strides, catching up to me in no time.

“You like animals, right?”

———————

4 Days Earlier, Central Park Zoo, New York

As soon as we entered the zoo, our ears were filled with the sounds of the loud screeches of birds and monkeys alike. Reid covered his ears, cringing and making his displeasure known with an “Ahh!”

I smiled at his geeky behavior, admiring the animals in the enclosures. I paid special attention to a particularly impressive species of tarantula, leaning down to admire them. A few moments later I looked to my left and saw Spencer doing the same thing.

“Did you know that arachnids have asthma which is why they don’t run for extended periods of time, similarly to cheetahs?”

“Yes I did.”

His face scrunched up in an adorable manner, causing an involuntary giggle to fall past my lips.

“Well did you know that-“

“Ma’am?”

I turned to see a young woman with flaming red hair and a freckled face smiling at me, her green collared uniform top complimenting her eyes of a different shade wonderfully.

“Oh, hi, I’m Agent Y/l/n and this is Dr. Reid, we’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”

Her expression shifted to a more confused one, her smile not leaving her face.

“What can I do for you two?”

“Is there an Alessia Copelas that works here, maybe volunteers on the weekends?” Spencer asked, his puppy dog eyes immediately warranting a response.

“Yeah, she volunteers here, she seems nice. Is she helping with an investigation?”

“Well we think that she may have some part in a series of murders.”

Her smile disappeared this time, turning into a cement frown as panic flooded her body.

“Oh God, was she- Is she a killer? Have I been working with a killer for all this time? I mean, I never had any shifts with her but from what I heard I thought she was so sweet-“

“Look,”

Reid glanced down to her name tag that read “Lillian” before meeting her eyes. His tongue darted out, licking his lips, a nervous habit of his I’d picked up on.

“Lillian, we aren’t sure if she’s the killer we just needed to get a feel on her and get some information regarding her personal life.”

She started frantically nodding her head, more trying to convince herself she was okay rather than ourselves. I looked over her shoulder at some exhibits, thinking to myself how this would end up being a waste of our time if this poor girl couldn’t get a grip on herself.

I was soon proven wrong when I looked over to see a young girl wearing an identical uniform to Lillian, probably somewhere between 23 and 24. She had untamed chocolate locks with bangs that stopped just above the shoulder, blemishes covering her T-Zone, and a rounded face to go with it.

The cherry on top? Under her arm she carried a small enclosure with what appeared to be amarynthis meneria, the same butterflies found on the victims.

I tapped Reid on the shoulder once as discreetly as possible, catching his attention. I heard him mutter a small “Oh God” before he told Lillian to walk away calmly and quickly. She ignored his request, turning to look at Alessia, letting out a blood curdling scream and sprinting the other direction.

“Shit.” I cursed, beginning to walk towards Alessia, Spencer by my side. I smiled at her, trying to appear friendly. Reid spoke up as we got closer.

“Hello, do you by any chance-“

wham!

“Spence!” I exclaimed, reaching down to help him up from where he had fallen from being whacked by the 4’2 pyscho that was Alessia Copelas.

“Did she get away?”

I turned to see her gone, the only sign she was even here being the forming bruise on the Dr’s face.

“Yeah. She did. I’m sorry, Reid, that was really stupid of me.” He shook his head, running his own hand over the raw skin.

“It’s fine, I would have done the same for you.” He looked up, and I wasn’t sure if it was my school-girl esque crush on him or the fact I just had another experience with a serial killer, but my heart was racing nonetheless.

————————

F.B.I. Field Office, New York, New York, 1 Day Earlier

The stress levels in the room were high.

Despite our best efforts, several more bodies had been found, New York’s narcissists were in a state of panic, and the spirits of the BAU were down to say the least.

“What? Are you kidding me?” I exclaimed, looking at Hotch in disbelief.

He rolled his chocolate eyes, fanning the folder containing the new information we had gathered on Alessia.

“I wish I was, Y/n. She’s off the grid completely, her apartment is empty, phone and credit cards have been deactivated, and the surgeon’s office hasn’t heard from her for 5 days. And the media has decided to give her the name ‘Butterfly Baron’, so she’s probably been fueled even further. We need a new lead before she strikes again.”

I scoffed, standing up and pushing my chair away.

“This is unbelievable. How many times do we have to reinforce the idea to local PD! Especially when the unsub is a self absorbed psycho, do not give them a name! God, I really cannot fathom this.”

I reached up, letting my hair down from where I had messily thrown it up upon my arrival to work that morning.

I stormed out of the room, my heels clicking behind me. I ignored Hotch’s calling of my name, making my way to the closest restroom.

I went in, locking the door behind him. I ran my hands through my roots, tugging just enough to where it hurt.

Turning the water to the left all the way, I splashed it from the stream leaving the faucet on to my face. I scratched my fingernails against the skin, wiping away the tears that had escaped.

“This is all your fault, y/n.” I whispered at myself in the mirror, doing my absolute best to engrain the message in my brain. I had my head hung in shame when a knock rang out.

“Y/n?”

It was Spencer. My mind started going a million miles a minute, thinking about why he could be there. With my voice raised a few octaves, I tried to scrape up a response.

“I’ll be out in a few, Spence.”

It was quiet for a split second, leaving me to foolishly dance around the idea that he had left me to wallow in my sorrowful thoughts.

“Y/n, Hotch wanted me to check on you. Are you ok?”

My heart slightly sank at the idea that he might’ve just come to check on me because he himself was worried. I discarded the thought, bringing myself back.

“Y/n can you please answer me? If you don’t open the door I’m gonna send in JJ or Emily.”

I sighed, wiping under my eyes where my mascara had smudged, begrudgingly walking over to the door. Just as my hand landed on the silver handle, his voice that was constantly playing in my head echoed out once more.

“Y/n, please? I need to know you’re okay. I’ll come in there myself.”

A soft smirk graced my face as I turned the handle to reveal a worried looking Spencer.

“Y/n, oh God, you had me worried.”

He was quiet when he spoke and his hair looked messy, like he had been running his slender fingers through it in a stress filled state.

I sniffled, attempting to still keep back tears that were still threatening to spill.

“I’m alright, Spencer. Really, I’m fine.”

He gave me a small smile, his eyes meeting my own.

“I know, it’s just that when I had my Diludad problem,” he hesitated.

“I would lock myself in bathrooms to shoot up, and I know you aren’t having a problem like that but I just was worried about you- what are you doing?”

I cut off his rambling by throwing my arms around his middle. He tensed, but quickly melted. He wrapped his strong arms around my shoulders and my waist, laying his head on mine.

“Y/n, I promise you, you’re doing your absolute best to stop Alessia. We wouldn’t even be where we are right now if you hadn’t made the connections. Those deaths are not your fault.”

My tears finally began to cascade like a waterfall, staining his shirt.

“I know, but it’s just like it is all my fault! I could have paid closer attention, or-or, I could have went after her at the zoo, it’s all my fucking fault, Reid.”

I sobbed into his shirt, my hand gripping his shirt like my life depended on it. Like if I let go I would fall into a deep, deep, endless hole.

His hand on my waist moved up to cradle my head.

“It’s not, I promise you-“

He was cut off mid sentence by the ringing of his phone.

“I am so, so sorry-”

I pulled away, breifly touching under my nose with my wrist, then moving a hair behind my ear.

“Nope, it’s fine, don’t worry.” Our words almost had overlapped each other as we clambered to fight the tension that had risen. I closed my eyes, tilting my head up, thinking about how unprofessional yet intimate our previous position had been. How wrong, yet how right it felt.

I kept running the moment through my head, the feeling of his warm figure encasing mine on replay.

His phone call played as background noise to the film playing in my brain, his voice calming me to an extent.

“Yeah, we’re on our way. Thanks, Morgan.”

He closed the phone with a snap, also snapping me out of my trance, putting the movie on pause.

“They’ve got a hit. Copelas was seen dropping by her old apartment.”

And for the first time since that Goddamn case had started, I smiled genuinely.

“Let’s go get her.”

————————

15 Minutes Prior, Central Park, New York

“Hotch?”

“Yes?” He looked back from where he was driving, following our lead in a rushed manner.

“What will we do if she...” I trailed off.

“Hypnotizes one of us?” He finished for me. I nodded solemnly.

The look on his face was conflicted and it took him a moment to come up with a response.

“We kill her before we have to kill one of our team members.”

He saw a look of uncertainty on my face and spoke up once more.

“And that’s an order.”

I nodded again, making eye contact with him through the rear view mirror. I fell back into my seat, closing my eyes briefly.

After a few more minutes on the road, we had arrived.

The doors all slammed to the SUVs, one after the other as we stepped out.

“The letter said that she would be here, somewhere here.”

The voice of Morgan was channeling through my earpiece, referring to the letter found at her apartment that she had left just for us.

“We ordered evac on citizens, correct?”

The unsure voice of JJ was also heard through the earpiece, her uncertainty quite unusual to hear.

“Yes, it was the first thing we did, Jayj.”

I whispered, a sly smirk from Spencer forming at my behavior.  

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

snap!

Our senses adapted, becoming dialed to 11 at the sound of a twig snapping under someone's feet.

“Was that you?” I mouthed to Spencer. He shook his head no and I silently cursed to whatever force was listening.

I nodded, which he then reciprocated, the pair of us slowly walking towards the source of the sound after he did.

“They’re going to remember me, I’ll go down in history.”

The voice was sing-songy and quiet, floating through the air. I took a shaky breath, continuing my steady pace.

My breathing momentarily halted soon after.

Different variations of “Oh my God”s, and loud gasps from almost everyone on the team flooded my ear canal at the horrifying sight in front of us.

Red. So much of it.

“Guys, I think we know what she’s been doing with the bodies’ blood.”

“No shit.” I muttered under my breath.

She was bathed in the blood, it looked like something straight out of a horror movie.

“Alright everyone, I want you to approach her as quietly as possible, Morgan, if you get the chance, corner her.”

Hotch’s voice was a stark contrast to her own, Derek’s response all the same.

—————————

Present Day, Central Park, New York

“But Agents, you still haven’t answered my question. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Alessia Copeleas, FBI, come on, get up, lets go.”

Derek’s voice was stern, not asking, but demanding that Alessia come with us.

“I’m afraid I just can’t do that, Agents.”

She stood up abruptly, causing all of our weapons to rise. The sun reflected off of the silver metal of Reid’s gun, sparkling in a stunning way that caught me off guard.

We all were trying to act as if we were in total control of the situation, but we could tell that us nor Copelas really believed that. Her words were her weapon, and this was the one time where words could hurt, but sticks and stones had virtually no power.

“Take another step and we will have no hesitation to fire.”

She smirked, rolling her eyes.

“If you do, will I be famous you think? You think they’ll hear about me back home?”

Her curls softly blew in the wind, making her appear almost harmless, maybe even endearing, if it wasn’t for the hardening coat of human blood soaking her clothes and seeping from her skin.

“Is that what you want? The kids back home and everyone here to hear about you? You want ‘Butterfly Baron’ written on every billboard in Times Square, your picture painted in museums, films to be made in your honor?” Reid was the one who spoke up this time, his voice remaining strong. Her eyes shone with a sickening excitement at what he said.

“You want to be famous?”

She nodded vigorously.

“Too bad.”

My eyes widened, surprised at the detour the conversation had taken.

“What-what do you mean?”

“Please, the only thing people will hear about is a sad, boring little girl from a small town who killed to feel better about herself. They’ll forget about you in a week, who knows, maybe they’ll even grow an infatuation with your town, someone you went to school with may get as lucky as to catch their big break!” He laughed, while Alessia looked absolutely devastated.

“You? You’ll be a nobody.”

“That’s not true! I’ll go down in history, and they won’t! I’m the fucking butterfly baron for hells sake! All these people?” She gestured towards her field of bodies.

“You won’t remember their names, maybe not even their pretty faces, but me? I’ll live forever.”

Her nostrils flared and she strode over to Reid with purpose. The safety on my glock clicked off, but Spencer motioned for me to wait. So I did.

“You know, Agent-“

“It’s Doctor.”

This visibly agitated her even more as she started her sentence over again.

“Doctor, you have a beautiful bone structure. Absolutely perfect. Symmetrical, not to mention just flat out stunning.”

A glaze formed over Spencer’s honey eyes at her words. He lowered his gun momentarily before turning towards me, Copelas doing the same.

“And you, Agent. Wow. I feel like I’m in an art exhibit, you’re gorgeous. I think the Doctor man here would agree.”

As he lifted his revolver at me, the situation became all too real as I understood what was happening.

I either had to shoot the man that I was struggling to admit I was beginning to love, or died at the hands of the very same man.

Tears flooded my eyes, all safeties were turned down, and all guns were pointed at Reid.

“Spence, please.”

My voice was weak, something that seemed to bring Alessia lots of joy.

She laughed before talking again, commanding Spencer.

“Pathetic, really! Spence”, she mocked,“shoot her.”

“No!”

bang!

whack!

--------------------- 

Present Day, Somewhere In The Sky, The Jet

I opened my eyes from where I had been tackled to the ground by Hotch, surveying my surroundings to see Alessia laying on the grass, the source of her gunshot wound non-distinguishable from the previous blood on her body.

I looked to the right to see where Spencer had crumpled to, his frame bent in a discombobulated position.

“Spencer!” I cried out, crawling over to him like some sort of dog,

“What happened to him?”

“Y/n, he was going to shoot you-“

“I don’t care you should have let him!”

I cradled his head in my lap, allowing my pent up tears to fall.

“Y/n?”

My eyes snapped open for real this time, my mind calmed at the sight of Spencer sitting next to me on the couch, gently shaking my shoulder in an attempt to wake me from my nightmare.

“Spencer! Sorry, was I too loud?”

He chuckled, gesturing to the rest of the sleeping plane around us.

“You’re fine, I wasn’t sleeping, I decided to reread ‘Fahrenheit 451’ for nostalgia purposes. And you weren’t that loud, you just looked like you were having a bad dream.”

I chuckled at the not-so outlandish idea in an attempt to diminish it from his mind and move on.

“I’m fine. But fun fact, I did have nightmares after reading ‘The Veldt’. Seriously, I don’t get how you can just reread Bradbury’s stuff all the time.”

The genius scoffed, starting a rant on how Ray Bradbury’s storytelling was just classic literature and deserved to be reread, thus successfully changing the topic as I hoped my statement would. Although soon after, he caught on much quicker than I would have liked him to.

“And not to mention, The Veldt alone could be seen as a forewarning to the 21st century and beyond, even Bradbury himself supported that interpretation-‘

I gave him a tired smile, enjoying his rambling like I always did.

“-and you totally just got me to change the subject.”

“I was wondering when you were gonna catch up.”

“Hey!”

He laughed as I rested my head on my hand, trying to fall back asleep.

“Really, I can tell those nightmares are bad. What’s going on?” He questioned, his tone empathetic and compassionate.

“It’s nothing, Reid. I just keep seeing in the park, when Alessia got shot and you-you got hurt but instead of getting up like you did in real life, you just…”

I trailed off, not wanting to relive the negative dream any longer for fear of the tears that were pricking my eyes escaping.

“It’s okay, that didn’t happen, I’m right here.”

He pulled me into a hug, allowing me to bury my head in the crook of his neck, his warmth consuming me once more, a sequel to the film from earlier.

“I know, but what if it hadn’t?” I asked as I pulled away.

He shook his head, reaching for his wallet.

“In this job, this course of work, we can’t focus on ‘what if’s’. In this job, we also get nightmares, all of us. It happens.”

He slid a picture over to me, it was of a happy family. The edges were worn from years of being carried, but the picture seemed loved.

“Gideon gave me that when my nightmares started. He told me about how those families we save everyday, and how that’s what makes what we do worth it. And I know you didn’t know Gideon personally, or the work on the specific case with that family, but I want you to have it anyway-“

I cut him off by throwing my arms around his neck, attempting to speak despite being muffled by his fluffy sweater.

“Thank you, Spence. Truly.”

I smiled, and I imagined he was doing the same.

“No problem y/n. Anytime.”

I moved my legs over to be tucked underneath my arms, leaning into Reid. He wrapped his arm around me, also leaning in. We both managed to fall asleep for the remainder of the ride in our state of content, but not before he managed to sleepily call out my name.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“When we land do you wanna go on a date or somethin’?”

I smiled at him, separating from his form just long enough to see that beautiful face of his.

“Without a doubt.”

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

AHAHAHHAHAHAHA I’M WAY TOO HAPPY WITH THAT LMAOOO but anyway chile- 

i don’t have some long ass paragraph to write this time omg wig, i’m just proud asf of my work for once (except for the zoo part ngl kinda didn’t like it😳) 

😛✨vibes✨ love u, xx hj

[princeofvelvet]

QuanYin - Postcanon

Anonymous asked:  quanyin ?? omg i adore quanyin! may i give some prompts? i just took from the lists i saw on ur blog (i love tropes) they're martial brothers so technically siblings by choice lol so from the sibcest: “This bed used to be bigger, I swear.” but/and/or also! soft & fluffy prompts number 6 ! -🐢 (one of ur niecest converts lolol i sent the prompt for the one u posted on ao3! thank u for that! 💚 i'm starting to appreciate modern aus more these days haha)

EDIT: This is now on Ao3! All polished, and longer!

A/N: Thank you for these!! And also omg that niecest prompt was so fun! Thanks for that as well!! And thank you for your patience, really! I actually finished writing one fic, then scrapped it and started over bc i got a new idea so it was delayed even more ;w; hope u enjoy this one tho! and that you, like me, ignore the canon universe rules sdfhsd

Send me ships and a prompt or two

The first breath after coming back to life is the hardest. Air goes in cold and travels to his deflated lungs like pins and needles, his body weighs ten times more than he remembers, lights and shadows he can’t yet place overwhelm him. He’s not floating, he realizes after a minute or two, but lying flat on a bed that feels like clouds. He waits for his body to regain mobility, examining his surroundings now that his eyes can focus. 

The top of the canopy bed does not look like his usual one; he wonders if Hua Chengzhu changed it, or moved him somewhere else. His second breath goes down with much less difficulty, and for the first time in so, so long, he can breathe out.

Something bumps against his shoulder. 

Blood pumps painfully into his ears. Alarms blare in his mind wanting him to jump and yell, but Yin Yu can’t move. 

“Hm…?” Fabric shuffles beside him and Yin Yu manages to catch a voice that he knows very well. “This bed used to be bigger, I swear…” Something nudges his shoulder and pokes around. Though every sensation is muted, his heart still leaps in his chest as a pair of hands roams his side. 

Why! Why him! Why! Is Quan YiZhen! In bed! With him!

Yin Yu’s eyes squeeze shut. He hopes to pass off as nothing more than a corpse until he figures out how to face YiZhen after their awkward last meeting. 

YiZhen is quiet as he explores him. The more time passes, the more Yin Yu wishes he’d stop. Soon he’d regain sensitivity and he won’t be able to hide his reactions. 

Who does he think he is to be touching him so freely! Did he do this often while Yin Yu was unconscious? Or… does he know already that Yin Yu is awake…?

The hands get insistent. Yin Yu is sure he’s making a fool of himself by continuing to pretend he can’t feel them, when-

“Ah!” He gasps as YiZhen’s fingers brush his waist.

“Shi… xiong?” 

He wants to die. Again.

“Shixiong, is it you?”

What kind of question is that! 

Yin Yu slowly opens his eyes. Quan YiZhen’s face is drawn down in concern and a little surprise. If he’s awaiting an explanation, Yin Yu doesn’t have it. He braces himself to be the one to break the silence when YiZhen’s hand reaches up to touch Yin Yu’s face. 

Instead of whatever he was about to say, he blurts out a strained “what are you doing?” 

“Ah! It is Shixiong!” 

Of course it’s him. Who else… 

His gut drops. Oh, no

Did he come back looking different?

He tries to sit up but gravity keeps him pinned to the bed like he’s made of stone. Quan YiZhen doesn’t seem to notice, because he doesn’t move an inch, and Yin Yu is not about to ask for help.

“Shixiong, why don’t you show yourself?” Quan YiZhen asks. What is this kid talking about? “Could it be…  Shixiong’s soul is so weak he can’t take physical form yet?”

Yin Yu ventures a look into Quan YiZhen’s eyes, only to realize YiZhen is not looking at him, but through him.

What? 

For the first time, his gaze wanders down. He sees nothing. 

Weak, huh… So weak, he was invisible, truly invisible this time.

Sparks fly under his skin as YiZhen wanders down his arm and stops on his hand. A weight lifts off him, his arm is like a feather in YiZhen’s grasp; and like a feather, he crisps under a fiery sensation that pours in currents through his veins. 

YiZhen’s spiritual energy feels so familiar inside him, it scares him with painful memories of being drained. His hand twitches. 

“Why are you doing that?”

“It’s the least I can do for Shixiong to recover faster.”

Part of him wishes it was futile so he could tell YiZhen to stop, but little by little, the tips of his fingers start to appear, color returns to his transparent skin and soon he can see his knuckles. It isn’t fast, but it is working.

“You’d do this even after what I said?”

“Of course, I’ll do anything for Shixiong,” Yizhen says, so sure of himself, Yin Yu doesn’t dare to doubt him, even though he feels the hand holding him tremble slightly. 

YiZhen clicks his tongue. “It’s not fast enough…”

Before Yin Yu can protest, his vision goes dark. He only has enough time to process YiZhen’s lips on his nose, before they move down and meet Yin Yu’s mouth. A full-body spasm overtakes him. YiZhen’s spiritual energy tingles throughout his whole body and merges with his own, strengthening him.  

When the kiss ends, Yin Yu is dizzy, out of breath just like the moments after waking up. He’s about to scold YiZhen, but a pair of hands hold his face first and force him to look up. And there Yin Yu finds himself, in YiZhen’s eyes, emotions naked in his face for Yizhen to plainly see. 

“Shixiong!!” Yizhen exclaims as tears blur Yin Yu’s image from his eyes.

[okayoonoh]

JUNGWOO’S FAMILY

a/n: i honestly can’t believe i’ve gotten this far! i’m so happy that i’ve been keeping up with these and i hope you guys have been liking them so far!

here’s the masterlist to all things nct dad related! go and check it out! i have so many other parts written already :)

KIM JUNGWOO:

he has three kids, all daughters. kim jia is the oldest, 3 years later, kim jieun was born, and 3 years after that, kim jiyoung was born.

(when jiyoung was born, jia was 6 years old while jieun was 3 years old)

KIM JIA: >> as a baby <<

she comes runner up in the position as calmest

she was so freaking chill like?

when jia was born, jungwoo saw his entire universe the second she opened her eyes and looked at her appa

you know how when jungwoo smiles, he looks like the little dumpling ?

yeah

that’s jia

she looks more like the dumpling then jungwoo does lol

jia was also pretty small when she was born

but that didn’t stop her!

when she gained weight, she mostly gained it in her belly and her face

she like was fine proportionally, but her belly was just so big lol

it honestly was the cutest

jungwoo nicknamed her mandu bc she was honestly just the sweetest little dumpling

she wasn’t shy when it came to her smiles

she was a little wary around strangers but that’s okay

jungwoo was honestly a really anxious dad

like he just would think that anything and everything can go wrong and he was just so nervous

but like jia took it easy on him dw

like if you had to leave for something for like a couple days

jungwoo would be so anxious about taking care of jia by himself

but then jia would just give her appa a pretty little reassuring smile

and he knew that he got it

jungwoo is honestly a really good dad

like naturally

he read a couple books and such

but a lot of his skills come naturally

he knew all of the things jia liked

he knew how to calm her down

she was honestly the worst with strangers

like if jungwoo or you had to leave the room

she would cry as if you left her forever

jia slowly learned that you guys still exist even if you leave the room haha

she was just so loving with her parents

>> as a child <<

she’s still just so chill dude

like obvi she’s a kid and when she gets excited, she’ll get excited

but she’s not like the “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” kind of kid

she’s more of a “woo”

she’s best friends with jeno’s oldest, lee juwon

juwon is a lot like his dad

he thinks that it’s so cool that jia is so smart

she’s kinda panicky lol

but juwon is just like weird with his humor and stuff

they still vibe together well tho

they both have the greatest smiles

like it’s one of those situations that they don’t have that much in common

but they just vibe so well together

she’s. so. smart.

jia is one of those people that school comes easy to them

like learning is just so easy for her

she was already learning really complex topics for her age

and she just kept wanting to learn more

she’s not super competitive with being top of the class tho

jia will tutor anyone who asks

even tho she’s smart

when she’s with juwon, they don’t make the best decisions

like if you send them to the store to buy more soy sauce or something

they’ll forget the soy sauce

but they’ll buy you like a pan or something

they once clogged the drain and turned the shower into a vertical bath tub

how?

no one knows

it was HE double hockey sticks to drain tho lol

when juwon and jia play, they play hard

like jia is the type of girl to be covered bruises

and she won’t care

she’s a really good sister to all of her siblings

she doesn’t really boss them around

but she will use her older sister powers if one of them steps out of line

like if one of them annoys her while she’s studying or something

she’ll use her older sister voice

she rarely uses it tho lol

>> as a teen/adult <<

she’s so heckin smart dude

honestly, probably the smartest person in the entire group

she decides that she really enjoys helping people when they’re at their worst

and she becomes a orthopedic surgeon

like she achieves to be head of surgery in her hospital

even tho she’s a doctor, she still believes in all the medical myths lol

for example

if it’s really cold outside

and jiyoung is going out for a run

jia will make jiyoung where like 500 layers

jia: “yoU’RE GONNA GET SICK”

jiyoung: “you literally just told me how that was a myth whY -- UNNIE I’LL BE OUT FOR LIKE 30 MINUTES I DON’T NEED TO WEAR MY SNOW COAT AND YOUR’S! IT’S NOT EVEN SNOWING.”

she’s so caring towards her siblings like it’s crazy

she’s proud of everything they do

jia watches every single one of jieun’s blogs

she watches every single one of jiyoung’s soccer games

she’s there for everything

jia doesn’t know what sleep is lol

she’s constantly studying and improving her skills as a surgeon

like even when she’s on vacation

she’s reading her books and stuff

her favorite place to study is qian fen’s cafe

she vibes so well in there

she’s honestly obsessed with her skin

lowkey a dermatologist at this point

jungwoo still occasionally calls her mandu lol

juwon is like one of the only people that knows how to get her to relax lol

she’s honestly a bit of a workaholic

jia can’t help it

she still cares so much about her entire family

she’ll get them in with the good doctors (discounts too)

whenever she’s overworked or overstressed, she goes home

being around family reenergizes her

she relates a lot with her dad

she’s honestly a mini version of jungwoo

if jungwoo can tell that she’s struggling, he’ll do the things he did to her as a baby

like seriously lol

he’ll find her plushy she had when she was a baby

and sing her the same songs 

it would make you cry every time because it was so gosh darn cute

KIM JIEUN: >> as a baby <<

also super chill

jieun was honestly so chic

like it would take a lot to make her smile

like if know rohui from return of the superman

like she had the brightest and goofiest smile

but jieun had to keep her chic aesthetic and couldn’t show emotions lol

even when jungwoo and you were jumping up and down making yourselves look ridiculous, she still won’t smile

when, and it was rare, she did smile, it was a big smile

she would give you guys the biggest smiles just so show how happy she is

she wasn’t a super playful baby lol

she was just so chic like idk what else to say lmao

when jieun was around her squad™ she would smile a bit more

but she still maintained her image

she loved to babble

jieun wanted to talk as soon as she could

she would talk even before she knew how lol

like omg imagine

so like you’re with jia for something and jungwoo wants to take a roadtrip with his little princess

she’ll babble the ENTIRE way

none of them are actual words other than “appa” and “eomma” 

and jungwoo would respond so well to everything 

like he would have actual conversations with her

jungwoo wasn’t as stressed this time around

it’s different with two kids tho

but it’s okay

he still kept those natural dad instincts 

jungwoo is so caring towards all of his children it’s just the sweetest

jieun honestly was just a chic baby 

>> as a child <<

she’s super feminine

like she loves all things pink

all things frilly and pretty

soft™ 

her favorite game was all games related to being a princess

she really was your family’s princess tho

jieun was so creative from an early age

and she was so artistic

like she took up drawing, sketching, etc. all from an early age

and she’s super talented with it too

jieun is in the squad of her, jaehyun’s son, jung leon, hendery’s middle son, wong liuwei, and haechan’s middle daughter, lee haeun

jieun is the calmest out of all of them

but they honestly can all be so crazy

generally, jieun is like the one who is trying to calm everyone down

but when she’s in the right mood, she’s right up there with them in crackheadedness

she speaks in tiny

she’s still super girly tho lol

she starts to get interested in makeup in this age

jieun didn’t really like playing with dolls and such

but she did enjoy playing with those makeup sets

she would do her makeup

your makeup

jia’s makeup

jungwoo’s makeup

jiyoung’s makeup

e v e r y o n e

she becomes obsessed with beauty

jieun is one of those girls who you’re like “yeah, she is a GIRL.”

and she loves it!

it’s just her aesthetic :)

>> as a teen/adult <<

she becomes a well known makeup artist

still super duper chic and artistic

she’s known for her colorful and technically perfect style

she does makeup for all of the models and celebrities of the group

like if they want to go for the aesthetic look, they go to her

and she does an amazing job

she’s so talented with all things dealing with beauty

hair, makeup, nails, e v e r y t h i n g

whenever she models for anything, she does her own makeup

her fashion sense is always trendy

jieun has a pristine self image and she tries to maintain it

guys hit on her all of the time lmao

she handles it so well tho

she looks them right in the eyes, as intimidating as possible, and takes a deep breath

she then uses words that don’t match with her image at all

but they’re so scary

like people would think she was a delinquent in her past life with all of the things she says

everyone in her squad find this kinda entertaining

she just gets annoyed because she hates creeps

even tho she cares a lot about her self-image, if someone is being weird around her friends, she’ll do the same thing she’ll do for herself

it usually shocks the dude so much

she can beat them up too lol

jieun is chic and stuff, but being in the squad, she learned how to fight

and she can take care of herself haha

jieun is pretty reliable

like if she makes an engagement, she won’t run from it

she does a really good in keeping up with everything

she gets along well with all of her siblings

jiyoung takes interest in fashion and jieun helps her out

honestly, jieun really is that girl and it’s just so cool

KIM JIYOUNG: >> as a baby <<

she’s been a soccer player from the start

she had such strong legs as a baby

like being pregnant with her was not a fun time

when she kicked, she kicked

even when she was born

her legs were just aching to start running

jiyoung was very similar to jia when she started gaining weight

except her legs were a lot more chubby than jia’s was

jiyoung was an early riser from the start

every day, you would begin by stretching out the little baby

that’s when all of her gigles were

stretching time was jiyoung’s favorite time

out of all of your kids, jiyoung was the most social

jiyoung was fine with strangers

and jiyoung would give you guys way more smiles than jieun did 

jiyoung just seemed constantly happy about life

it was a treat to see

in all physical things, she was advanced

literally the second she started walking, she was trying to run

she was just so active and wanted to explore the world

when she was a toddler oh no

you didn’t want to have to get one of those baby backpack leashes, but you had to

she was just too fast

even jungwoo couldn’t keep up with her 

she was so excited all of the time haha

nothing seemed to calm her down

she would be full of energy until she collapsed pretty much

jiyoung was such a happy baby tho it was honestly so endearing

>> as a child <<

super duper athletic

she kinda seemed intimidating if you didn’t know her

but she’s chill dw

she put all of her energy into sports and she excelled

jiyoung is so talented in all of her sports

but her favorite is soccer

mainly because her dad was so good at soccer, she loves how she can relate with him

she’s generally happiest when she’s playing sports

she enjoys being the baby of the family tho

jiyoung is pretty independent in most situations

but when she’s around her sisters, she changes lol

like a lot of people think that she’s super cool and independent and no one can hold her down

but the second jieun needs help with something, jiyoung is on her way ASAP

jiyoung wasn’t super needy or high maintenance

she would just appreciate everything you would buy for her

she had really tan skin because she was out in the sun tho

even tho it’s “against the beauty standard” to have tan skin

she embraced it

jieun, the beauty guru of the entire group, said that jiyoung and the best skin

jia is willing to fight ANYONE who makes fun of jiyoung’s skin tone

jiyoung embraced herself and loved herself from such an early age

she’s best friends with yuta’s youngest son, nakamoto itsuki

itsuki is also a soccer prodigy

they relate a lot with soccer

they honestly compliment each other so well

like itsuki is a little goofy and stuff

and so is jiyoung

they both are super tan and athletic too

they just were meant to be from such an early age

jiyoung wasn’t really into things that were super feminine tho 

she prefers “dirt over skirts”

jiyoung is such a hard worker

like she works through all of her sore muscles and everything

but she just does such a good job and maintains a positive attitude

>> as a teen/adult <<

a soccer player ™ 

she goes and plays professionally

she’s just so gosh darn athletic it’s so cool

she just genuinely enjoys playing soccer

jiyoung does have those days where she pushed herself too hard

but she just needs to see her family one more time to get back into the swing of things

whichever team she’s on, she becomes the face of the team

jiyoung honestly has the brightest smile and everyone loves it

when she speaks in any situation that’s not a soccer game, she speaks in tiny

but when she’s out on the field

she’s LOUD

so LOUD

she doesn’t know why she’s so quiet off the field but she just is lol

she starts to take an interest in fashion and such after establishing herself as a professional soccer player

jieun is like “dw jiyoung, i gotchu bb”

jieun knows her sister’s aesthetic and just rolls with it

jiyoung wears everything jieun tells her too

like even tho jiyoung has taken an interest in fashion, she sucks at choosing her own outfits lol

itsuki and jiyoung get together

everyone knew it was gonna happen lol

they were honestly soulmates from the second they met

athletic power couple of the century

if they have a match on the same night, they’ll wear the same color headbands and shoes

they do subtle things

like the even have customized cleats with each other’s names in them 

on their biggest game days, they wear those cleats

honestly, it’s the cutest

like ugh

i guess you can say that itsuki and jiyoung are goals *badum tssssss*

jungwoo just wants to be there for all of her matches

jiyoung makes sure that the two of you get season tickets to the best seats in the stadium

jungwoo is so happy whenever he sees all of his daughters happy and together

he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

---

junguwu really out here with the uwuest family of them all :,)

i hope you guys liked it! i was struggling a bit with these three because i knew how they were in my head but i just couldn’t put it to words haha

anyway, lucas’s family is next~

- amy <3

[def-initely-soul]

Welcome back, lovely!! I’m so glad to see that you are continuing to write. Please take your time with it. Can I please request for prompt #26 fluff for Mark Tuan? Thank you 💚💚💚

omg, thank you so much! 😭 I’ll try my best! 💖💖💖

Songs to listen to: Thriller - Michael Jackson + Masquerade - Sleeping At Last

Bias: Mark from GOT7

Prompt(s): #26 “I just found out my best friend and love of my life isn’t human and you’re criticizing me for being shocked?!”

Genre: Supernatural/Fluff/PG-13

Warnings: None

Words: 3.6k (oops)

“Did they seriously just try to pass that as a decent werewolf movie?!” Mark complains with a mouth full of french fries as you sip on your milkshake in the dimly lit diner, near the cinema you just were into.

You swallow a sip and then you sigh, again, at your best friend’s whining, before putting your milkshake down. All you wanted to do was to go out and see some monstery Halloween movie to get into the spirit of the holiday but Mark might just manage to ruin it for you.

“I mean come on, did they really expect us to believe he wouldn’t have checked for a full moon before he took that girl on a date? It doesn’t make sense!” he continues after swallowing the contents in his mouth before taking a sip of his coke.

“Or that he took her on a date, without any gas in his car, so they’d have to walk through the forest?! Jesus, at least try to convince us…”

You’re currently the only ones still in the diner that’s been decorated for the holiday. Fake cobwebs and spiders hang from the ceiling with cheap electric candles on every table and faded wall decals on walls, trying to give the restaurant a more spooky vibe and failing miserably, instead giving it a more cheap vibe.

The clock on the wall informs you it’s almost closing time and by the looks the only waitress left, Donna, gives you, you’d say it’s time to go. Besides, you grew tired of listening to Mark being so incredulously offended by a simple movie.

So you take one last sip from your milkshake before, “Come on, we should go,” you gather your stuff, before moving on to put on your jacket.

Mark regards you with a confused expression, “Why, what time is it?” 

You point him to the clock on the wall and once his eyes reach the object, it’s like all color is drained from his face. His expression is frozen and then, without a warning, he stands up to put on his jacket.

Okay, he’s acting weird. Weirder even than badmouthing a simple movie.

“Are you good?” you say, weirded out by his behavior. He doesn’t have another curfew today, has he?

He clears his throat, before finally meeting your eyes. Only for a second though before looking forward but it’s all you need to see the seriousness hiding in his stare. “Yeap, yeap, all’s cool. I just lost track of time and I gotta be home early…” he explains quickly before the two of you walk out the diner.

Your eyes scrunch in doubt, as you follow him down the street. He doesn’t seem to mean that and you wonder curiously what’s wrong with him as you hug your arms around your middle for extra warmth. Everything’s dark in this time of the night, only a few street lamps lighting your way, making it all the more creepy with the slight breeze that ruffles the trees.

You never really got that curfew thing that’s going on with him. Ever since you knew him, he always has to get home early. And while that’s a normal thing when you’re in your teens, it makes no sense when you’re in your twenties.

You never got to ask him about it though. At high school, you didn’t think much of it, it was normal, you had a curfew as well. And now, well… At first, you thought he was ditching you to meet other girls and you didn’t want to get into that for a whole bunch of other reasons.

Well, okay, maybe not a whole bunch. Maybe it’s just this one reason. This tiny, itty bitty reason of you being in love with your best friend. 

Which he doesn’t know! And will never get to know if you have any say in this. Mark doesn’t see you that way. He never does and probably never will. So why ruin your friendship over something trivial?

A sudden grunt from your friend wakes you up from your reverie and you turn to see him crouching on his knees, hands around his torso, his breaths turned heavy. His legs are trembling, beads of sweat running the side of his face and his features are scrunched up in discomfort as he hisses in pain.

“Hey, are you okay? What happened?” you crouch immediately next to him to help him get up, worry evident in your face but he pushes you away instantly, almost hostile. Your worry dissipates shock and hurt taking its place as Mark tries to get up.

“I’m fine, it’s just a bellyache,” he mumbles through clenched teeth, but honestly it doesn’t do much to convince you, as he grunts again with a bit more force. You push aside your bruised ego as you try to get close to him once more to help.

“It doesn’t look like just a bellyache. Should I take you to a hospital-?”

“No!” Mark almost shouts at you and you’re left to look at him bewildered, as his eyes burn at you with almost… repulsion?

Mark never shouts at you. He shouts at other things when you’re with him, but never at you. 

And the way he looks at you… as if he hates you. It doesn’t sit well with you. Have you done something? And even if you did, why doesn’t he just tell you-?

“Actually, my house is just around the corner, so I’ll head out first. You should head home too…” he manages to get out before turning around and walking off without you, not waiting for an answer.

You stare at him as he disappears down the street and into the forest, completely astonished at this sudden turn of events. Did he just leave you alone in the middle of the street?

“Seriously…?” you mumble, irritated before shoving your hands into your pockets and walking towards your apartment, fuming at your friend’s behavior.

What the hell? You only wanted to check if he was alright, what the hell is his problem?

You try to calm down, but your anger only grows when you can’t seem to find an explanation for his behavior. And even still, you worry about him, whether he’ll be alright, if he’s gonna get home safe.

“God, if he’s okay tomorrow I’m gonna beat his ass…” you mumble to yourself, trying not to worry too much about him when he’s been such a douche to you.

He’ll be alright. He’s just gonna head home and go to sleep. He’ll be fine.

There’s no way he’s gonna be in so much pain he won’t be able to reach home. No way.

Instinctively you begin biting your nails, your imagination running wild with images of a helpless Mark, lying unconscious in the middle of the woods, nobody around to help him, and you can’t help it anymore.

With one tired sigh, you turn around on your feet to follow the way Mark followed, carefully stepping into the dark woods.

“He better be completely fine, or I’m taking him to the hospital before I whoop his ass.”

.

.

After five and a half minutes of wandering around, following the path you know leads to Mark’s house, you’re finally close enough to a clearing. But Mark is still nowhere to be seen.

Okay, now you really are starting to worry.

Where would he go? Did he actually fell unconscious in the woods? You wrap your arms around you protectively as you make your way towards the clearing when a movement from the other side of the trees gets your attention.

Your eyes are quick to follow and you see Mark walking out of the woods.

Only he’s not exactly walking. He’s stumbling.

He looks worse than before, his whole body trembling, sweating all over and with a painful grunt, he falls to the ground.

“Shit…” you whisper as you begin running towards him, emerging out of the woods only to stop dead in your tracks as you realize what’s happening.

Mark is on all fours, his breaths labored, hands clawing on the ground, leaves crunching underneath his palms as his whole body vibrates. The image blurry, making you question your sanity as you’re not quite sure if what you see is true. A deep, throaty growl resonates through the clearing and it takes you a second to realize it’s not coming from some animal nearby.

But from Mark.

It sends a chill down your spine as cold sweat runs down your back. That sound was not something a human could emit, nothing someone could simply imitate. It was animalistic, like stuff from nightmares and you can’t stop wondering if you heard right.

But then as your eyes remain on him, the most terrifying thing happens. As his image grows even more blurry and his body trembles uncontrollably, you swear something is changing.

His whole body is shaking, shifting into something you’re not quite sure you want to find out but your legs are immobile, stuck to the ground as you’re left watching your best friend release heavy grunts of pain into the cold ground. 

The sound of bones cracking, breaking and morphing into something else, something not at all human but not quite animal either reaches your ears, as Mark’s body transforms, arms and legs budging under the weight of his torso.

You don’t know what to do. Scream? Run? Honestly, you want to do both but you can’t find your voice nor the will to move your legs. You’re not even sure if you’re imagining things or if this is really happening. Maybe you’re dreaming. Yeah, that’s it.

But when you pinch your arm in an attempt to wake up, the image of Mark changing right in front of your eyes isn’t leaving. You’re left helpless, watching as Mark’s back hunches, elongates and changes as something black, something furry emerges from beneath his clothes. And then as his figure grows bigger, the sound of fabric being ripped echoes through the woods and Mark’s clothes lay ruined on the soil.

But where naked skin should have been, there’s only black, silky fur.

Mark is nowhere to be seen and only a big, black wolf stands in his place.

This isn’t real. This can’t be happening. You just witnessed Mark turning into a wolf. 

You’ve gone crazy.

The animal stands with its back on you, as it stretches. It digs its paws into the earth, breathing softly and sniffing the ground as its long, dark mane shines underneath the moonlight.

Of course. Of course, there’s a full moon tonight.

You make your decision quickly, while the wolf-Mark (you’re not quite sure what to believe yet) is looking away from you. You’ll just go home, sleep it off and realize the morning after that it was all a dream.

But as you take a step back, your foot lands on a branch that cracks under your weight and the sound travels through the dead of night.

At once the wolf raises its head, ears on point and you stand still. Fuck. Now what? You don’t know if the animal is Mark or even if it is, if it has Mark’s consciousness. 

What if it attacks you? What will you do then?

The wolf’s head turns slowly into your direction and its eyes meet yours.

And suddenly all fear and doubt dissipate. You know it’s not gonna hurt you. Because even though the body is one of a wolf, the eyes are human.

They’re Mark’s.

A sharp breath escapes your tensed chest as you keep your eyes on the wolf. The animal stares at you immobile, not daring to leave nor to approach, regarding you with wariness, as if knowing you’re one second away from freaking out.

“Mark…?” you find yourself whispering into the night, hoping that your friend has the sanity to recognize you.

The wolf looks at you, gaze unnerving, stance unchanging while you wait for it to do something, anything with your breath trapped inside your throat.

But then the animal finally moves. It drags its paws against the leaves to come closer but its movements are not threatening. They’re slow and careful, giving you space and time to change your mind and leave, but you don’t. You wait for the creature to approach you and when the animal is right in front of you, it places its snout against your palm, softly, tenderly. And it looks at you with its very human eyes.

Or more appropriately he looks at you.

An incredulous chuckle escapes you as the animal nudges your hand for pets and you happily oblige, now that you know he’s not gonna hurt you.

“God, is that really you?” and you swear the animal almost nods.

Huh. Your best friend is a werewolf. 

Mark again nudges your hand but this time he turns his head towards his clothes and then back at you as if waiting for you to do something.

You stare at him with frowned features as you try to understand. “What? You want me to pick up your clothes? They’re ruined,” you observe but he looks once again towards the pile of ripped clothes and runs over to go through them with his paws.

With a sigh, you follow him and kneel beside him as he digs through his clothes, searching for something.

“What is it, Lassie? Did Timmy fall down the well?” you ask with fake worry and when wolf-Mark turns to look at you, you swear you can see his special face of disappointment reserved only for you.

A loud laugh escapes you. Man, this is really ridiculous. Your best friend is a wolf and he looked at you like you’re nothing but a nuisance.

You wipe a hypothetical tear from your eye. “Alright, alright, I’ll help. What are we looking for, I’ll just take my phone out to flash some light here.”

As soon as you say that Mark nudges your hand once more as if to say “That’s it!”

“Ooooh, your phone? What didn’t you say something sooner?”

Again his face is nowhere near impressed.

You snort as you dial up his number, “Right, right, sorry, cause you couldn’t.”

After successfully finding his phone, wallet, and keys, Mark leads you through the woods to the front of his house. You take out his keys to unlock the front door and for a moment you think you see Mark looking at you with almost… fear. But as soon as it comes, it goes.

Maybe it was just your imagination.

You open the door and make way for him to pass through. “There you go. Have a good night’s sleep because tomorrow you’ll have a lot of explaining to do,” you say and take a step forward to leave but something stops you.

You turn around to see Mark biting on the sleeve of your jacket, stopping you from leaving. When you look at his face, his eyes look almost pleading and you find yourself having doubts about going home.

“You want me to stay?” you whisper and he nods.

There’s a sharp intake of breath from your part before you nod as well.

“Okay. I’ll stay.”

.

.

Next morning finds you curled up, upon Mark’s couch. Something that has happened countless other times only it wasn’t with a huge wolf napping on the floor next to you.

You stretch your arms while you stifle a yawn. God, last night seemed like a dream. Maybe it was and you actually imagined the whole thing.

But as the sun infiltrates the living room and you open your eyes, you find a very human, very naked Mark being curled up in the same spot, in the very same position as wolf-Mark was last night.

An involuntary shriek escapes you and manages to wake up Mark, enough to startle him into a standing position, head snapping around looking for a potential threat as you immediately hide your face behind your palms.

“What, what, what happened?” he asks warily, eyes scanning the room before looking down at you. Only he sees you curled into yourself, hands hiding your eyes before “Please put some clothes on!”

Oh, right.

“Fuck…” he mumbles to himself before he quickly disappears into his room and only when you hear the door closing behind him do you uncover your eyes.

You let out a breath, trying to calm yourself down from an imminent cardiac arrest.

I mean it’s another thing to know your best friend is a werewolf and a completely different thing to see him naked.

Oh my god. Your best friend is a werewolf. Last night wasn’t a dream.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

You can feel yourself spiraling but you can’t control it. Mark is a werewolf?! Werewolves exist?!

Jesus, if werewolves are real, what else is real?!

“Sorry about that, I swear I tried to wake up earlier to get dressed but I-?… Y/N, are you okay?” a fully clothed Mark emerges from his room, only to quickly come next to you, seeing you worrying yourself silly.

“You’re a werewolf…” you mumble incredulously, trying to control your breathing.

Mark’s worried eyes look at you confused. “I… Yeah. Yes, I am,” he answers slowly yet steadily. There’s caution hiding in the way he’s looking at you as if waiting for you to lash out on him any moment now.

When that thought crosses your mind, you realize why Mark looked at you like that last night. Afraid of your reaction the next day, after some sleep. Things are always different the next day.

“And… you didn’t attack me…” you add on, more like a statement than a question.

Marks lets out a small chuckle. “Why would I?”

You shrug, a million thoughts running through your mind. “I don’t know, I don’t know a single thing about werewolves, I thought maybe you’d be hostile, or maybe you wouldn’t recognize me, I mean how was I supposed to know you’d remember me, everything I know about werewolves are from stupid Halloween b-movies that don’t even make any sense so I-“

“Wow, wow, okay, okay, calm down, no need to act like this, you were just fine with it last night, why are you freaking out now?” Mark comments, raising his hands in the air as if to appease you but they have the exact opposite effect.

“Excuse me, I just found out my best friend and love of my life isn’t human and you’re criticizing me for being shocked?!” you lash out on him but only when his eyes grow in shock have you realized what you just said.

Oh, shit.

“What did you just say?” Mark stares at you completely dumbfounded.

“I- I-…” you stutter, panic flooding your senses, gaping as you try to find any words to say that could get you out of this.

But unfortunately for you, there are none.

“I meant I- I meant I-…” you try to save yourself from embarrassment with no obvious results.

You really hope Mark will drop this and let you get back to hiding your feelings from everyone and live the rest of your life in misery.

But of course, it’s not sensible to think that. And Mark still waits for an answer.

You take a breath. It’s now or never.

“Okay… I actually… like you,” your voice is quiet, timid and careful as you observe Mark with wary. You dread his reaction.

Mark blinks, opening his mouth to say something but he immediately regrets it. He just keeps on staring at you, without saying anything, driving you more and more into getting lost into your own doubts and fears.

Oh god, this is it. He’s gonna feel so awkward about it he’ll avoid you and then you’ll stop being friends, oh god, why couldn’t you keep your mouth shut-

But, well, Mark does it for you. With his lips on top of yours.

And it takes you entirely by surprise. So much that your eyes stay open and you can’t respond for the life of you. And after just a few seconds he pulls back, confusion written all over his face as he stares at you.

“You kissed me…” you observe in awe, still in shock and an involuntarily chuckle escapes Mark.

“Yeah, and I was kinda expecting for you to kiss me back…”  he responds with a smirk and Jesus fuck, did he just smirk at you?

“I-I, I don’t understand…” your voice comes out as a nervous rambling and Mark smiles at you and, honest to god, it sends your head spinning.

“I like you too, dumbass…” he leans over to whisper in your ear, and you can feel your entire face catching on fire. He likes you back. Mark likes you back and it’s not a dream. It’s real.

“Or should I say ‘love of my life’?” comes next and dear god, you can’t believe you said that.

You groan out loud as you shove him lightly, “God, that was embarrassing, don’t remind me~,” you whine between giggles and Mark chuckles as he places his hand on top of yours over his chest.

You look at your hands, your laughter dying down and when you look back at him, there’s a soft smile covering his lips and he leans in.

“Now, how about that kiss…?” he whispers against your lips.

You smile before leaning in.

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Cornelia Street (8/9)

(+ an interlude i thought of after reading “Reeni”s comment. Idk who you are bc it was a guest comment, but thank you!)

A/N: oh my god they were quarantined

yes. It’s one of those fics.

AU, obvs

I’m posting as I go and idk how many parts this is going to be, likely won’t be very long but I literally don’t know what I’m doing and should i be starting yet another WIP? definitely not but fuck it lets fucking go

Title is from T-swizzles Lover album, I’m OBSESSED

Summary: Three years ago, Kurt and Blaine went on a disaster of a date and never quite got off on the right foot. Now, just before they graduate from NYADA, there’s a national outbreak and they’re both self-quarantined in a mutual friend’s apartment.

Read On AO3

On Tumblr: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Interlude

QueenJCedes replied to your story!

Kurt bites back a dopey grin when he opens Mercedes’s snapchat message. It’s a photo of her looking dubiously at the camera, a single eyebrow pointed up, with the caption: Quarantine buddies, huh?

He snaps back a quick photo of himself, eyes rolled upwards. What can I say, he won me over.

She sends back just a message this time—

Mercedes: Yeah, clearly. Mercedes: Head over feet, Alanis style!

—and then a bitmoji of Kurt falling through the air.

Kurt: I mean… You’re not wrong Kurt: He’s sort of everything Kurt: AND a fantastic kisser

Mercedes: OMG REALLY? I was just teasing, but if this is legit, I’m so happy for you!!!

He can’t help but giggle excitedly as he types a reply. 

Kurt: Yeah. me too.

*

New Snap from setroutymouth

Blaine rolls his eyes but still can't school the smile on his face into a neutral expression. This is going to be a lot, he already knows, but nevertheless, he swipes his thumb across the screen to unlock his phone.

Sam’s pacing through Mercedes’s childhood home in Ohio, phone in selfie mode, already rambling at a hundred miles a minute that Blaine’s sure he cut off a few words.

“—cedes just showed me Kurt’s snapchat story and I AM LOSING IT! Did something happen between you two? Oh my god, something totally happened, didn’t it!? BLAINE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED MERCEDES WON’T TELL ME AND I ALREADY FINISHED EVERY BINGABLE SHOW ON NETFLI—”

As expected, it was a lot. But still not enough to burst his happy little bubble. He doesn’t think anything could, at this point.

Through his smiles, he snaps back a picture of himself shrugging, trying to look as clueless as possible, and adds the caption: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

It’s not even a full moment before he gets another video back.

“BLAINE ANDERSON I AM BEGGING YOU—”

Blaine locks his phone shut, mostly because he knows it’ll drive Sam crazy. He can respond later. Right now, there are more important matters at hand.

*

Blaine’s in the kitchen, putting away what was left of the carton of Cookie Two-Step ice cream they’d demolished while watching another Netflix romcom, when Kurt’s phone lights up.

New Message: From: Adam I saw your sc story You know you could just be *my* quarantine buddy When are you coming?

Kurt actually growls as he types out a reply. How did he put up with this for nearly three years?

New Message: To: Adam I’m not.

Kurt. We both know how this ends.

Not this time. I meant it. We’re done.

Okay, whatever you say I’ll check in with you later When you change your mind

Kurt doesn’t even warrant that with a response, he’s too seething mad to even formulate one with enough bite to put Adam in his place.

But then the door opens, Blaine’s beaming at him, and Adam is completely irrelevant.

“I was just thinking,” Blaine muses aloud, slipping under the covers and snuggling up next to him in a way that Kurt knows will be way too easy for him to get used to. “Do you remember our Junior year when we had to partner up during Stagefighting for that Musical Choregraphy project?”

Kurt explodes into laughter. “Uh, yeah, that was pretty ridiculous. I remember hearing from Matthew that you said I dance like a pigeon that’d been chewed up and spit out by a cat.”

“What!?” Blaine exclaims, shocked. “I swear I never said that. Though, I do remember going on a tangent about how I didn’t know how I was supposed to concentrate when you insisted on wearing those pants with that tight fitted shirt and…”

He trails off, and Kurt can feel color rising to his cheeks. “Oh, that explains it, actually.”

“Explains what?”

“Matthew. He had a huge crush on you.”

Blaine’s eyes double in size. “He what!?”

Kurt lets out a chuckle. “You seriously didn’t know?”

“No! Nobody told me!”

“That’s not how crushes work, Blaine,” Kurt says through a stream of giggles. 

“Okay, why does it make more sense for me to just take a wild guess about how people feel about me instead of them telling me, or acting on it? Like, if you hadn’t have kissed me earlier, I would have never known how you felt and kissed you back.”

Kurt opens his mouth to argue that logic, but… he seriously cannot get over how oblivious Blaine is. “So you’re saying that if I hadn't accidentally kissed you then you really wouldn’t have known how I feel?”

“Yeah. And I would most definitely not have acted on my crush.”

“Aw,” Kurt teases. “You used to have a crush on me. That’s embarrassing.”

“And you watch too much Parks and Rec.” 

“I’m gonna kiss you again, now,” he announces.

Blaine just grins, eyes crinkling at the sides. “I think that’s a great idea.”

There wasn’t much of a choice because of the shelter in place, but based on the bright spark forming in his chest when their skin meets, Kurt could definitely get used to this living situation.

*

Blaine finally pulls away reluctantly. If he could stay attached to Kurt forever, stay connected to him, he would. He roams his eyes over Kurt’s face, like he could memorize it if he really, really tried, and notices a scar just above his eyebrow. It would be invisible to anyone else, anyone who wasn’t trying to intentionally map out the image of Kurt.

The scar doesn’t bother Blaine, but the idea that someone ever hurt Kurt bad enough to leave physical evidence that refuses to leave tugs achingly at his heart. Instinctively, he takes his hand from where it rests on the side of Kurt’s face, and gently traces over the scar with the pad of his index finger soothingly, as if it hasn’t been healed for years.

“Sophomore year… two years ago,” Kurt’s murmuring refocuses his attention.

That was a hazy time for Blaine, but he does have a vague memory of hearing from a friend of a friend that Kurt spent some time in the hospital, and he definitely remembers his rival-slash-partner being missing from their stage acting class for a while.

“What happened?” He asks.

Kurt is so calm, so steady when he answers. It leaves him in awe. “It was when all those gay bashings were happening…” he pauses, and Blaine immediately feels sick to his stomach because he knows where this is heading. “I was on my way home from school and saw these guys attacking some teenager, and… I had to help. I ran over and started shoving them, I guess. I didn’t really know what I was doing, but the kid got away. I didn’t. The last thing I remember after that was what I think might’ve been a brick hitting my head.”

“Jesus,” Blaine breathes. His initial reaction is to say I’m sorry, but something tells him that Kurt isn’t sorry about it at all. Instead, he says, “I had no idea. That–that was really brave of you.”

Kurt snorts out a laugh. “I’m glad you think so. I spent most of my hospital stay being berated by my dad about how irresponsible it was.”

“No,” Blaine shakes his head. “If anything it was over-responsible.”

“I’m not convinced that’s a word.”

“Me neither,” Blaine says breathlessly, amber gaze fixed on the boy lying across from him.

He really just can’t help but pull them together again. 

Blaine thinks Kurt is opening his mouth to deepen the kiss and, well, he’s certainly not going to complain. Until Kurt sucks in a deep breath and turns his head, chuckling through his yawn.

“Sorry, I really thought I could hold that yawn in.”

Blaine lets out a laugh of his own and glances over at the analog clock on the nightstand. “It’s only midnight, you grandpa,” he teases.

“Hey! Doing nothing all day is seriously draining.”

“I wouldn’t call what we did nothing,” Blaine says cheekily, causing Kurt to flush.

“I’m going to shower before I head to bed,” Kurt responds, sitting up and lifting his arms up over his head and exposing an inch or so of his midriff.

Blaine is trying so hard not to stare. Nevertheless, he can’t help it as he watches Kurt saunter off to the restroom. 

He tosses his head back onto the pillow with a satisfied grin on his face. Global crisis it may be, but if he got Kurt Hummel out of it… he could complain about worse things.

A bright ding from his right interrupts his thoughts. Blaine turns his head and sees the screen of Kurt’s phone light up, resting there on the nightstand.

He’s not snooping. He’s really not. It’s just sort of instinct to look in the direction of the sounds.

Then, he sees the succession of messages that make his stomach churn.

New Message: From: Adam Hurry and finish up with the rebound already I miss you Text me when you’re on your way

He stares at the screen for a few seconds before it fades back to black, feeling absolutely sick to his stomach. Of course Kurt was going to run back to his ex the first chance he got. It’s exactly what he did three years ago and Blaine was just kidding himself. This was all too good to be true.

Turns out it wasn’t.

Before he knows it, he’s grabbing his duffel bag and dialing Quinn’s number. 

He’s always welcomed there and New Haven isn’t all that far, after all.

Part 9

[detroit-extended]

OMG I FUCKING LOVE THIS!!! Fair warning: a tiny bit dark. just how I like it.

“So,” Markus raised an eyebrow as he gently tapped the end of his gun on his henchman’s forehead, “was it you who betrayed me?”

“No!” He replied, sweat dripping down his face. “I never tipped anyone off! I swear! It was Jordan!”

Markus clicked his tongue. “I don’t really like snitches,” he sighed exaggeratedly, “they’re so annoying.”

“I’m so sorry! Don’t fucking kill me! Please!” He begged on his hands and knees as he sobbed for his life.

“I have an idea,” Markus smiled gently at the man, “I will forgive you, but you must do one thing. Do you swear your loyalty?”

“Yes! Oh, god, yes!” He looked prepared to kiss Markus’ boot. Pathetic.

“Ah, ah.” Markus shook his head as if he were talking to a child. “you need to do one thing before I forgive you.”

“Anything!”

“Shoot off one of your fingers.”

The blood drained from the man’s face. “But I-”

“I can kill you right now, you know.” Markus gently placed his gun on the man’s hand. “However, I won’t. Everyone deserves life.” He smiled kindly. “Except, well, you’ve been a thorn on my side. I suppose you don’t deserve a finger.”

The man was shaking with fear. He stared at the weapon in his hands. Markus only watched with a pitying expression.

“Go on, then.” He softly coaxed, his pretty features showing nothing but patience. “Your wife makes the sweetest pies. We wouldn’t want anything bad happen to her, hmm?”

The man slowly brought up the gun to the level of his other hand. Tears were quickly falling down his sweaty anticipating face. “I can’t! I can’t!”

Markus softly brushed his hand on the man’s hair. “But you must.”

“Holy shit, holy fucking shit-”

The man placed his finger on the trigger and Markus smiled-

“Markus. A detective’s a the door.” The lazy voice of a young woman called out from behind them.

The godfather groaned, irritated. “I’m a bit busy, North.”

“I don’t care,” she stated, “he specifically asked for you.”

Markus glared at the man kneeling before him. With swift movements, he managed to get his gun back and have the coward groaning on the floor in pain.

“You deal with him then,” he said as he grabbed his coat.

“Fuck yeah-”

“No, no, no!” The man managed to sound out, blood steadily dripping down his nose. “I’ll fucking shoot my hand off! My dick off! Just don’t leave me alone with her.”

Markus laughed and shut the door with a loud thud.

----

The godfather grasped the door knob and prepared his prettiest smile.

“Hello, what can I-” he looked at the most beautiful face he has ever seen, “-...do for you?”

“Mr. Manfred,” the boyish face said politely, “I’m a detective. May I ask you a few questions?”

“Sure!” If the man, in that moment, had asked him to dance the Macarena with frosting all over his face, Markus knew he would. “Please! Come in!”

“Thank you.” The private investigator walked into his humble home and sat on the comfy sofa. A man died there once.

“So, er-” the cute and awkward persona always worked on people. “-what’s your name exactly?”

“Apologies,” he said with a fair bit of shame, “my name is Connor Anderson. I’m a detective sent by the Detroit Police Department. I’m here to ask questions.”

Markus casually sat next to him, getting as close to the man without making it strange. He smelled good. “Oh? What sort of questions?”

“Neighbours have reported gun shots,” he stated, watching Markus’ face carefully, “perhaps you, or anyone in this household, have anything to help the investigation?”

Markus’ trained expression gave nothing away. “Yes, I...” He trailed off, looking scared, “Those were gunshots then? I guess I wanted to believe it came from the fireworks the little kids next door play with.”

“Are you sure?” He titled his head to the side.

The godfather nodded sadly, hoping his beautiful eyes caught the detective’s interest. “Yes-”

“There’s gun oil residue in your hands. The way you walk is asymmetrical, your right leg movement is hindered, most likely due to a heavy object attached to your waist. Probably a gun.”

Markus snapped his gaze upwards, a predatory hunger lingering behind his eyes. This man will be his now.

“Interesting,” he replied calmly. He drank the image of the detective in front of him.

Connor leaned in, attempting to be intimidating. All he accomplished was making Markus want to roughly kiss his jawline. “The way you subconsciously adjust your body to get my view away from the right side of your waist indicates that you’re hiding something.”

“Oh?” Markus raised a perfect eyebrow.

“Yes,” he said back, “you have a gun, don't you? Of course you know what a shot sounds like. You and I both know it’s not quite like fireworks. Tell me, Mr. Manfred, why lie?”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Pardon?” Connor’s gorgeous brown eyes widened.

“What’s your favorite color?” He hated repeating himself, but he’d make an exception for his detective.

“Blue,” he stated, “what does this have to do with anything?”

“It has to do with everything, Connor. Tell me, flowers or jewellery?”

“Mr. Manfred, this is an investigation-”

“Connor,” he smiled, a twinkle in his eyes, “flowers or jewellery?”

“Jewellery has more value,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Excellent!” He clasped his hands together. “Tell me, what made you become a detective?”

“To help people-”

“Blah!” He brushed him off. “That’s a dull answer. An answer you tell yourself every morning.” He winked. “I shall repeat myself: why become a detective?”

Connor looked uncomfortable. It was delicious. “I want to help people.”

“If you can’t answer,” Markus began, “perhaps we’ll see how familiar we both are with gunshots.” He smiled like a Cheshire Cat.

“Is that a threat?” His detective narrowed his eyes. The godfather’s heart stuttered. He was so brave! 

Markus chuckled. “A suggestion, really.”

“Because solving puzzles gives me a thrill.” The more he leaned in, the more the godfather could see the suspicion and aggregation behind the depths of his orbs.

“What sort of thrill?” Markus smiled.

“When I solve cases,” he said, “that no one else can, I feel needed. Important. Alive. If I can’t do just that-” he broke off, “-then what good am I?”

“Come back here tomorrow.”

“Excuse me?” His detective was bewildered.

Markus shrugged. “I have a job, too, you know.”

“But, Mr. Manfred-”

“Tomorrow, Connor. Six in the evening. Don’t be late.” He stood up, making his detective do the same. 

“Mr. Manfred, please-” God, Markus wished he could make his detective beg more.

“Sorry,” was all he could say, “tomorrow. Dress nicely.” And so he shut the door in front of him.

He smiled to himself.

----

“What was with you out there?” Simon questioned.

Markus looked at him dreamily. “I’m in love!”

Josh answered. “No, you’re not. You’re infatuated. Would you risk our family’s blood for a... twink?”

“No, silly.” He shook his head. “Our blood will flow in his veins soon. My detective will be happy we saved him from such a dull world.”

“And you’re going to convince him by-”

“Throwing him a candlelit dinner when he comes by tomorrow!” He looked at his blond friend appreciatingly. “Excellent!”

“What the fuck-” North came in, small flecks of blood invading her otherwise pristine shoes.

“Everyone,” he said with his calmly commanding voice, “get all the information you can on a Connor Anderson. What he likes, what he hates, what he does, and everything else!”

North huffed. “That’s so-” 

“You get to do whatever you want to any of his enemies.”

“-not boring!” She whooped and turned the other way.

“Simon, my perfect little stalker, find anything you can on my detective. Have our men follow him around. Let everyone else know he’s off limits.”

The blond smiled and walked away.

“And Josh-” he looked at the man, “cook us dinner for tomorrow.”

The said person gained a determined look in his eyes.