#(she's very brief tho)

[lunarharp]

shirahama-sensei reminded me she has a thing for the teacher from pokemon s/v so i randomly went off on an au where qifrey is the professor. etc

[dcggersedge]

[SPIN THE BOTTLE] Ah, there's a name she hasn't gotten yet-- though the face is one she's come across several times. Chin resting in her hand, she glances over at the other woman with the slightest hint of a smirk on her face, brows arched in an expression that almost mirrors a taunt... or a challenge. All in good fun, of course. She scoots forward there, her finger trailing from the base of Yunaka's neck, drawing upwards along the same divot where her jugular runs-- it's easy to feel the pounding of her pulse beneath her pale skin, and her hand only comes to a stop when she can brush a few strands of her hair away from her face. A low chuckle is her initial offering, tilting her head slightly as she leans in to murmur low enough for only the two of them to hear. "I've seen a lot of people like you," She begins, moving ever closer, barely enough for their noses to brush. "You have a certain look in your eye-- you're a hunter, ready to track down your prey and devour them whole." Her palms cup the other's cheeks, thumb brushing a smooth path over the surface of her tattoo. Shamir's eyes flutter shut as she closes the distance between them in a kiss that's a bit needier than it should be for a game like this-- she presses forward insistently, leaning into her as her hands pull her in and her tongue swipes against Yunaka's bottom lip, and she breaks them apart long enough for a breathy noise that almost sounds like a laugh to escape. "So-- gonna do your part and eat me alive, then?"

It's a rich statement, coming from a woman who dives forward to devour once again, mouth moving against hers with an almost desperate hunger, tasting, claiming-- and once her hands tangle in Yunaka's hair, she lets out a soft sigh of satisfaction before her breaths become shallow.

Her fingers loosen, and she makes the extra effort to ensure that she doesn't tug on the other's hair too much as she pulls her hands away, fingers trailing over her cheeks before she separates them both; though she manages to look somewhat composed, the flush on Shamir's face and the darkening of her pupils certainly gives a different impression. "Your move, Professor."

Finally the stupid, evil bottle lands on someone else who isn't Alear again. Yunaka laughs, and hopes her relief for the break isn't too obvious. The woman who spun it is familiar. They've spoken a few times. The easy, confident challenge on her face already gives her a hint of what role she's expected to play. Easy. Yunaka can handle another performance.

She stiffens a little as fingers come near her neck, but manages not to flinch away. The archer doesn't grab, so it's easy to pretend that everything is still fine. Yunaka intends to slide an easy smile of her own in place to match her energy, to preen like this is nothing but the fun little game it's intended to be.

"I've seen a lot of people like you,"

The smile freezes in place, halfway to its intended form.

"You have a certain look in your eye--"

A chill sets in, rolling down her spine like a splash of cold water.

"you're a hunter"

Yunaka freezes solid. Doesn't move, doesn't react to anything that the woman says or does for the rest of the turn, doesn't hear any of it. No, she shouldn't know. She shouldn't know. Yunaka hasn't done anything, not during the party - unless she has, did she mess up somewhere? Did she do something stupid? Did she make a mistake? You can't watch every face in a crowd, can't see who's watching back, can't keep an eye on things-

Did the others hear? Did they hear what she said? Alear already knows but the others- nobody else is supposed to know, she didn't have to tell them, she didn't want them to know.

Yunaka's heart is racing. She feels like she can't breathe. She blinks and abruptly realizes the woman is staring at her, waiting expectantly, she's supposed to do something, she's already messed up, she keeps messing up, she doesn't know-

"I need to leave."

Yunaka's voice cracks when she speaks, weaker than she wants to be. She doesn't care right now. The woman's hands are gone before she has to slap them off her, her feet kick blindly at the ground as she pushes herself far back enough to fumble to her feet. You're not supposed to run anymore, a vaguely familiar voice mocks her.

She grits her teeth until her jaw hurts. "I need to leave. I'm sorry. I'm..."

She can't think of another thing to say. She really doesn't want to waste time trying to. Without further excuses, Yunaka turns and walks away.

Yunaka has left the game

[commander0fmyheart]

I can confidently say that I really have no idea as to what is going on in Call Me By No Name, BUT what I do know is that it is very pretty to watch.

[hrodvitnon]

With all these Twitter takes coming out recently, this kinda reminds me of a certain scene from Episode 7 of the Skull Island cartoon on Netflix from a while back. And with what happens in here, I'm kinda surprised that people aren't tripping over themselves to screech at Kong like they already do with Godzilla for how he deals with the more violent titans like Scylla.

The poor thing even whimpers like a dog as it's getting eaten by Kong here. And the cartoon itself shows that it's a harmless animal that doesn't even bother humans.

So going by Twitter logic, this would mean that just like how Godzilla is supposedly a worse tyrant than Skar King, then Kong is just a filthy dog eater. (Disclaimer: I don't actually believe that lol, I know Kong is a more nuanced character than this one scene shows. Just framing this in a way to show just how ridiculous those takes about Godzilla actually sound like if you apply the same thing to their favorite ape too.)

AS A (former) DOG OWNING PERSON—

j/k

[sugarwithsarcasm]

"Stop being so difficult Bakugo," Mina flicked the side of his head, "Listen to Denki here, just....be nice for once."

"Yeah bro," Denki gave him a smug smile, "Just use the method and poof! You got yourself a boyfriend!"

OR

Katsuki Bakugo is whipped so bad that he somehow resorts to actually half-listening to Denki's advice. With his own charm, of course. (Read: He kind of fucked it up)

---

Katsuki Bakugo was, often to his detriment, a very passionate person. He’d yell at his video game screen whenever Denki or Kirishima would find a way to shoot themselves in battle. He would get overly invested in English presentations and try to find a way to make them the most pretentious sounding in the class. One thanksgiving, he almost set his house on fire after he realized the pie dough he had spent four hours trying to perfect came out a sticky and goopy mess. 

Point being, he had a tendency to be dramatic at times, and being a fifteen year old boy in the beginning stages of a crush, even he was starting to find himself fucking insufferable. 

Izuku Midoriya. That was his kryptonite. Freaking Deku. He wasn’t exactly sure when or even how he started looking at Deku and the stupid little chemicals in his brain started going feral, but, well, that’s what was happening. 

Like any fifteen year old boy with a crush, Bakugo acted like he knew everything. And, also like most fifteen year old boys, his arrogance was starting to get in the way of acting on said crush.

Bakugo tried to take a deep breath, but ended up inhaling so sharply he made himself cough a bit on his own saliva. The fact that it was only then that his lab partner briefly looked away from her absolute trash tik tok for you page and not during any of the fucking labs made him want to scream. 

“Oh my god this is the third time this period Katsushit” she tapped her annoying as fuck pink acrylic nails on the counter for the thirteenth time that period, “please, I’m begging you, read a wiki how article on breathing or something.” 

“Why don’t you shove your phone up a flamingo’s ass and go be quiet in the corner, Go eat some shrimp or something, pink raccoon.”

“That wasn’t very nice”, Mina pouted, shutting off her phone and putting it in the pocket of her pink metallic bomber that for some reason kept getting on Bakugo’s nerves, “did Kirishima text you about tonight by the way? You are gonna come, right?”  

“No.” Bakugo began stuffing his pencil in a random pocket of his backpack. 

“No as in Kiri didn’t text you or no as in your being a little bitch?” Mina bit her lip and glanced over at the teacher who was making fun of one of the players on the basketball team. 

Bakugo grunted in response, slinging his backpack over one arm and then the other. 

“Midoriya’s gonna come.” Mina sang, nudging him in the shoulder. 

He paused for a moment, poorly hiding the light blush that began to creep its way on to his face. “Fine. I’ll come along but for the record it’s only because Deku‘s mom never lets him get out.”  

Luckily, whatever the raccoon was planning on saying was cut off by the bell, which due to the speakers being blown were chaotically distorted, blared throughout the classroom. He began walking out without her. He rolled his eyes but was secretly a little relieved when she started walking after her. 

“Hey guys!“ an evil, annoying shrill startled Bakugo.. 

“Denki!“ Mina ran over to hug him, like the extra she was, “How was your second period?” 

“I don’t know, I slept through it all,” Denki pulled his hand out from his hoodie pocket and shot Mina with some finger guns as they began walking towards the cafeteria, “did you guys check the group chat by the way? Kiri and I were having our morning anxiety attack.”  

Bakugo pulled out his phone and opened 192 notifications for the group chat he had been forced into, named ‘Denki’s funeral’. 

“Not your I heart hot mom's hoodie!” Mina gasped. 

“Yeah! I was like, sweating bro,”Denki turned over to Bakugo who was silently listening to their conversation, waiting for the perfect moment to insult the pair, “Since I know you won’t actually read all the messages I’ll catch you up; yesterday when I was doing my laundry-“. 

“For once.” Bakugo grumbled as they got in line. 

“-my mom came in and saw my I heart hot mom's hoodie! She asked me where I had found it, was it mine, did I ever wear it, blah blah blah. And I was all; ‘mom I’d never wear anything degrading to women like that! It’s my friend Kirishima���s! He forgot it and I decided to wash it for him, like the holy child I am.” Denki clasped his hands in the air, trying to emphasize his point.

“Only your dumbass would get in trouble for having a hot moms hoodie by your own fucking mom.”  Bakugo chided, trying his very best to contain his laughter. Mina was already losing it. 

Denki laughed, “I know man! But get this, Kiri came over this morning and my mom told him that if she ever caught him with that hoodie again, he’d call his mom!”

Bakugo couldn’t help it and began to cackle. The three of them tried their best to contain themselves as they got to the front of the line. 

Since November that year, Denki had found a hoodie that had written ‘I heart hot moms’ and had worn it almost every day since, it was so stupid it was funny.  

“Can I have the double chocolate chip muffin?” Denki chirped, smiling at the lunch lady. 

“Diabetes.” Bakugo whispered in his ear before walking away with his bagel.  

“Bakubro!!” Kirishima’s voice echoed throughout the cafeteria.  

“Did you finish your English essay?” Bakugo deadpanned. 

“Stop being so annoying Bakugo!” Mina swatted his arm as if he was a fucking fly. “Sorry, he’s just grumpy, his little Deku didn’t talk to him before school today.”  

“Shut up.” Bakugo actually saw Deku running to class late, he probably had overslept. That dumbass was lucky he was cute. 

“Okay so to answer your question, lots of things were done in English,” Kirishima sipped his chocolate milk as Bakugo sighed, “no, I l did not finish the essay. Instead, I wrote a book.” 

And sure enough, at 9:40 in the fucking morning, Kirishima pulled out a stack of lined paper that had been stapled and drawn and written in Crayola with such sloppy writing it looked like a kindergarten assignment . 

“Ooooo” Mina, being the simp she is for Kirishima, grabbed it. 

“I call it; Kirishima has an anxiety attack and a frowny face. But not like a frowny face as in the words, but like, an actual frowny face.” Kirishima said, pointing to the title and the frowny face which had been written in red crayon. “It even has its first review! I showed it to Mr. Aizawa and he wrote ‘get some help’ and gave it five stars!” Mina and Kirishima cheered. “He didn’t cancel the essay though…”

“He just didn’t understand it. No one understands masterpieces until 30 years after they’ve died anyways.” Mina said, awkwardly patting Kirishima’s hand. 

“Kaachan!” Bakugo felt his soul momentarily jump out of his body and tried to jump out the nearest window like that one brown cat that tried jumping out of the window once it saw Denki last week when he went to volunteer at an Animal Shelter. Deku seemed to notice this and laughed. “Sorry Kaachan!”  

“Go away” Bakugo  mumbled, staring at Deku’s tattered shoe laces. 

“Deku wanted to ask you something.” Bakugo glanced up, noticing Todoroki’s emo ass hovering over Deku, who was playfully swatting his elbow. 

“No.” Bakugo tried his best to sound tough as he angrily sipped his chocolate milk. Tasted chunky. The school must’ve invested into the football team again. 

“Kaachan! I was wondering if you were going to go to karaoke tonight!” Deku buzzed with excitement. 

Kirishima and Mina began winking at Bakugo from behind Deku, god Bakugo wanted to beat them up sometimes. 

“Yeah whatever. Don’t expect me to sing though.” Bakugo sighed, trying (and failing) to pretend he wasn’t paying attention to Deku's reaction. 

Kirishima, Mina and Denki (who appeared out of fucking thin air) began cheering loud enough so that the weird upperclassmen’s table began looking at them funny. Bakugo was too distracted throwing plastic utensils at them to hear Deku’s mumbling. 

“Bro, you should totally listen to what Midobro is saying. Stop being so rude.” Kirishima walked close to Bakugo, flicking his forehead. Bakugo made a mental note to steal his beloved cookies later to piss him off. 

“What is it now Deku?” Bakugo said a little louder than he intended. 

“Um well, my mom’s kinda worried y’know? I was uh,” Deku but his lip, his face growing a little red, “..she trusts you and she was wondering if you could um, walk with me to the karaoke place?” 

Mina, Kirishima and Denki started silently screaming, jumping up and down celebrating. Bakugo wanted to drown all of them. 

“What, Deku you're like, a 5 minute walk from uptown, don’t tell me you can’t handle yourself alone for 5 minutes.” Bakugo rolled his eyes, trying to ignore Kirishima crossing his arms, Denki mouthing no and Mina pretending to throttle him, “Why doesn’t your boyfriend over here walk you over?” Katsuki nudged his head towards Deku’s emo ass friend Todoroki, who let out a deep sigh slowly shaking his head. 

“What?! Todoroki- I’m- He’s not-” Deku’s face went red. 

“Really Bakugo?” Mina deadpanned, giving him a rather judgy look for someone who expected to be showered with love for just aggressively complimenting stupidity. Bakugo mumbled for her to shut up, her response being a frustratingly disappointed look. 

“I have a history exam tomorrow. Momo, Jirrou, Tsuyu, Sero, Tokoyami and I already have plans to study so I will unfortunately not be able to accompany my friend Midoriya.” Todoroki gave him a cold glance. It was always so frustrating how nerdy and emo he was, Bakugo would sometimes like to daydream of him absolutely losing it like a normal person (Bakugo) goddamnit. 

“If you don't, that's fine-” Deku began rambling, staring at the floor. Bakugo sighed, and held up his hand, trying to gesture to Deku to breathe and let him speak. 

“Whatever. I’ll pick you up at 6.” Bakugo rolled his eyes, trying to play the flush on his face as anger through his aggressive tone, “Now get outta my way, I have to walk myself to class.”  

“Thanks so much Kaachan! You're awesome!” Deku chirped from behind Bakugo, who had been speed walking, hoping to end the conversation sounding…cool? 

Denki, Mina and Kirishima quickly ran after him, speed walking behind him. 

“Well,” Mina popped the pink bubbles she had been blowing with some pink bubblegum she would give out to just about any girl that batted their eyelashes at her and ask, “That was a disaster.” 

“I know man! I was really hoping Jirrou would come, I was gonna totally serenade her with my awesome singing voice.” Denki’s voice screeched from behind them. 

“Not that bro!” Kirishima playfully shoved the side of Denki’s face. “Bakubro totally lost his groove.” 

“When does he not?” Mina remarked, annoyance laced in her voice. 

“Whatever, I’m gonna walk with him alone, at night. You guys talk big game for a bunch of losers who would combust if they were alone with their crushes for five seconds.” Katsuki finally stopped walking and turned around to face the three of them, rolling his eyes at how Kirishima and Mina were both aggressively trying to not make eye contact. 

Denki beamed, “Guys don’t freak! Look at it this way, we have like 8 hours to teach Baku here the method. ” He waggled his eyebrows, clearly being vague just for the attention. 

“Is the method preying on self-insecure people?” Mina questioned.

Kirishima snickered, panicking and disguising his laughter as a cough when he saw the glare Bakugo was giving him.  

“Hot mom’s over here is right, come one guys we gotta scheme up a method for a bro in need.” Kirishima pumped a fist in the air.

“First, compliment how he looks when you pick him up. Swoon him.” Denki talked in between the final few bites of his chocolate muffin. “Then, do them indirect touches. Brush up against him and stuff. You know the drill.” Denki winked at him, causing him to shudder. 

“No.” Bakugo smirked, “I’m going to flirt with him like I always do.” 

“Bakugo…we’ve been over this. Just because you like insulting him doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt his feelings.” Kirishima scolded. 

“Shut up! My method works more than your aggressively calling people dude and bro type of flirting method.” Bakugo snapped, Kirishima’s face going a bit red. 

“Oh shut it twink!” Mina swatted his shoulder. 

“ Excuse you-” 

“For the love of everything, we just want to see you two happy ‘kay?” Mina cut him off. “Take it from someone who sat next to your little boo for an entire semester– he doesn’t really react to your insults that much, but praise? That’ll light that boy up! Don’t be a blockhead and just…be polite.” 

Bakugo sighed, feeling strangely guilty at the puppy eyes they all seemed to be giving him. 

“Whatever, I’ll try but when it backfires you all owe me boba.” He mumbled, Denki, Kirishima and Mina erupting in cheers as the bell rang. 

---

Bakugo began to dread having to go to Deku’s house that day, struggling to ease his mind and focus on his studies during the rest of his classes, instead opting to sketch a boy with messy green curls and bright emerald eyes. 

“Who is it!” Deku’s mom yelled from somewhere inside the Deku’s small cozy little house. The white metal door swung open. “Oh! Bakugo! Right on time too, my, my haven’t you grown up?” She cooed, Bakugo shoving his sweaty hands in his hoodie pocket. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he mumbled, not making eye contact with her. “My mom says thank you for the lemons by the way.

“Hm, oh well tell her anytime! Well, I’ll go call Midoriya. He’s in his room doing his homework.” She disappeared from the doorway, allowing Bakugo to panic alone by himself.  

“Kaachan!” Deku slid towards the doorway, Bakugo quickly putting on a scowl out of instinct. “Kaachan, you actually came!” 

“Of course I did,” Bakugo was about to curse Deku for being stupid, but instead bit his lip, noticing Deku’s mom silently observing the two boys. 

“Well, um.” Deku’s mom shuffled forward, planting a kiss on her son’s forehead, “Stay safe you two boys, and Bakugo, bring him back before 9.”  

“Yes ma’am.” Bakugo played with his fingers inside of his hoodie, Deku’s mom chuckling before whispering goodbye and quietly closing the door. 

“Thanks so much for coming again Kaachan!” Deku smiled, the two of them walking towards the sidewalk. 

“Whatev-” Bakugo remembered Denki’s advice from earlier, “No problem.” (How desperate was he?)

They walked for a bit in silence, with the exception of when Deku commented on the stars that night and Bakugo grunted in response, clueless to how he could respond to that . Bakugo tried to keep himself cool and collected while simultaneously trying to hype himself to try and actually interact with Deku instead of awkwardly walking together in the quiet darkness.

“I like your stupid fucking eyes.” Bakugo blurted out as they were passing the park. 

Deku’s eyes widened in surprise, “wait, like actually?” His face went red (Bakugo’s face was redder, wishing there were cars driving in the street next to them that he could run into.) 

“Forget it, Deku.” Bakugo tried walking ahead of him, but Deku’s stubborn ass just sped up to keep up pace with him. 

“Kaachan? Can I tell you a secret and can you promise not to be mad?” Deku squeaked from beside him. 

“No,” he said, slowing down his pace so that Deku didn’t have to practically run to keep up with him. 

“My mom said she trusted me to walk by myself. She didn’t say I had to walk with you, I lied.” Deku’s face reddened.  

“What?” Bakugo stopped walking, the two of them standing on the bridge in the park that overlooked the koi pond. “Then why the hell am I even here?” 

“Kaachan don’t be mad, but,” Deku whimpered, his voice shaking. He looked like he was about to cry, his face red, his hands sweaty. 

And it was on that stupid bridge over the stupid koi pond in the extra stupid fucking moonlight that it hit Bakugo, that he was the dumbest most dense person in the world. 

“Kaachan, I um, I kind of um-” Deku bit his lip. “ Ikindoflikeyou.”  

“I’m sorry?” Bakugo stepped closer to Deku, his eyes widening in disbelief.  

“Don’t be mean, Kaachan.” Deku softly mumbled, a defeated look crossing his face as he stared at his shoes. “I know you heard me.” 

“Deku, stupid, fucking Deku,” Bakugo grinned, probably looking like a serial killer to any onlookers, “I kind of like you too.” 

Deku looked up, his beautiful emerald eyes lighting up with joy, “Really! I thought you hated me!” 

“What? No! I was flirting with you dumbass!” Bakugo laughed, feeling giddy with excitement, still he tried to look smug. 

“You told me I looked like I ate paste in Kindergarten!” Deku laughed, walking beside him. 

“That’s because you did Deku.” He taunted, bumping the green-haired teen to the side a bit as they strolled through the park. “Wait..am I supposed to like, kiss you or something?” 

Deku smiled, his face flushing a bit. “Why don’t we just start with holding each other’s hands?” Terrified, yet happy nonetheless, Bakugo slowly reached down to hold Deku’s soft, sweaty hand. He grinned like an idiot over at Deku, who laughed, caressing Bakugo’s equally sweaty hand with his dumb. “Who’s the dumbass now Kaachan?”

“It’s still you, you dense asparagus, It’ll always be you Deku.” He looked over at Deku, running his free hand through Deku’s fluffy green hair, something he had always daydreamed about doing.  

“Always?” 

Bakugo squeezed Deku’s hand, “Always dumbass.” 

(Mina screeched at the both of them when they walked in hand in hand at the Karaoke bar)

[sysig]

Hey wait they’re really fun to draw how did this happen (Patreon)

[red-dyed-sarumane]

@musicalisotope hi im going to. make this a post instead of a reply sorry i have a lot to say on this.

aru sekai is a really. obtuse series. none of its going to make much sense on its own. if it does i need u to share ur brain with me. anyway,

i think if u want to start anywhere i'd say either aru sekai shoushitsu, marshall maximizer, or laboratory.

aru sekai shoushitsu is the very first song its really long & theres so much in it & it sounds like nonsense by itself, however its a pretty complete summary of the whole plot. if u get lost once u hit the fuu lines & after dont worry about it we dont have the context for those yet. it's a lot to take in but once u move onto the other songs it all starts to click together like oh shit thats what that meant. it IS a lot tho. its also the most objective song of all of them; the rest are very subjective to their respective characters' views

marshall maximizer is of course the most popular song but thats not why im saying it. im saying it because it's the first time the concept of losing one's self/ego is really expanded on & thats a very very big part of the narrative. the lyrics it might be harder to pick up on that but the text in the background talks about it in a more direct way. its subjective to the chara's pov but it does a good job of establishing that "person" vs "thing"(no longer a person) concept. important to note this character is only an observer of that.

laboratory is similar its that same major concept of those who are still "people" vs those who arent any more. the difference here being its her experience as she crossed the line between the two. its a lot more direct than the other songs & its pretty easy to see the whole weight of the scenario & because of that it really helps put the severity of the other songs into place.

as for the others theyre very subjective & its a little harder to figure out whats going on. but in short kyuuyaku hankagai establishes its not just a personal risk & its a very long repeating event, shuuen touhikou is mostly to answer the question "well what if they gave up & didn't face the problem", oumen mokushiroku is overall that its pointless to take huge risks to themselves beyond the obvious, unplanned apoptosis is actually showing how the "doing things for yourself will save you" concept works, kanon gets into how precise their work has to be to get anywhere among other things, kugutsu ashura is a wall of words idk why u would ever start there its also weird bc she doesnt seem to be affiliated with the rest of them? an outsider forced to endure the consequences i think. i still have to dissect this one more for sure, & the new one yamete kudasai is kind of similar to laboratory but it shows more of the reasons people are pushed to the point of losing themselves.

there are. a LOT of very small easy to overlook details across all the songs. theres no one way to progress through the story since all the songs build off each other & show off different aspects of the plot & world they live in. & u also have to take into account not all of them are reliable narrators (im staring at the unplanned apoptosis girl in particular). theres also a LOT of details we still need expanded on to get the full picture but i think we're going to get more side context songs before magu moves onto to the fuu song to continue the order in aru sekai shoushitsu. the text in the background of songs that have it is also a major part of the story u cant just skip over it if you're trying to figure out whats going on. (this includes kanon. the original tweet with the decode was taken down but i still have the text saved.... somewhere. i will get that for anyone that wants it. very brief but it gives a glimpse of what the start of a retry looks like as well as why theyre in the situation in the first place)

VERY few people keep up with it as a series most people i see just think the songs sound good & leave it at that so i dont blame u if u do the same but its a very intricate story if u have the time & patience to work it out

also small side note magu's said all the charas have names but theyre a secret until later so they have to have some relevance with whats going on. it'll be a very interesting reveal for sure. we think theres 2 names in aru sekai shoushitsu (saginuma hisame & layla) but we dont know for sure who they are or if theyre even any of the girls in the songs. (best guess is the the shoushitsu chara & kyuuyaku chara respectively). thats not super important to know rn tho. also aru sekai series is a fan given name based on the first song since magu has never once talked about the contents of the series outside of what we get in the songs. (unless directly asked but theyre vague in their answers)

[boleynqueenes]

Being as you are someone who writes about Anne Boleyn, I must ask you, which are your favorite portrayals of Anne Boleyn? I mean fiction (novels, film, tv) but also non-fiction. And, do you feel your fav portrayals have influenced you in the way you write Anne and her story? Your least favorite ones, do they have an influence too? Which ones are they? Thanks

If there's one with zero merit and/or minimal entertainment value I won't include it on the list, I'll say I'll ** = my absolute favourites and * = my compelling in some aspects, but tread with caution, and those sort of in between I'll leave alone.

Or rather, let's put it another way...* is worth a library rental or free Kindle borrow, whichever you have available, and ** is worth an actual purchase. Those without *...eh, I'll leave it to you.

The Challenge of Anne Boleyn, Hester Chapman*

Adultery, Heresy, and Desire, Amy Licence*

Raven's Widow, Adrienne Dillard**

Jane Boleyn, Julia Fox**

Among the Wolves, Lauren Mackay*

Queens of Henry VIII, David Starkey*

The Story of the Death of Anne Boleyn, Translation, Edition, and Essays by Joann DellaNeva**

The Lady Elizabeth, Alison Weir*

Renaissance Prince, Lisa Hilton*

Hunting the Falcon, John Guy & Julia Fox**

The Life & Death of Anne Boleyn, Eric Ives**

Tudors in Love, Sarah Gristwood

Tudor England: A History, Lucy Wooding**

Children of Henry VIII, John Guy*

Henry VIII by Lucy Wooding**

The Other Boleyn Girl, Philippa Gregory*

The Lady in the Tower, Alison Weir*

The Lady Anne (Book 2 of 5 of Above All Others series) by Gemma Lawrence**

Judge the Best (Book 2 of 5 of Above All Others series) by Gemma Lawrence**

Threads by Nell Gavin*

In the Shadow of Lions, Ginger Garrett*

Tarnish by Katherine Longshore*

Brazen by Katherine Longshore

Anne & Henry by Dawn Ius*

Wife after Wife by Olivia Hayfield*

The King's Mind by Christopher Rae**

The Concubine by Christopher Rae**

VIII by HM Castor

Queenbreaker by Catherine McCarran

The Tudors (2007-)**

The Lovers Who Changed History (2014)**

Anne Boleyn miniseries (2021)**

Blood, Sex & Royalty (2022)**

I Am Henry: A Compelling Novel of Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII (2023)

And, do you feel your fav portrayals have influenced you in the way you write Anne and her story? Your least favorite ones, do they have an influence too? Which ones are they? Thanks

Pieces from everything influence me, Christopher Rae's and Gemma Lawrence's novels, for example, both had some of the best and credible portrayals of Henry Norris I've ever read, both in credible unrequited love (tying into, Anne's wariness thereof) that was forged into a weapon against him and for why he became such a favourite of HVIII's in the first place (would've included Jeff Lavender's thesis of Norris also, had you asked for beyond fiction and non-fiction books). The best parts of all of the above have inspired me to craft AB as a character at turns, sympathetic and unsympathetic: proud, courageous, intelligent, zealous, prudent (more in the 16c sense than 21c), fierce, jealous, sensitive, vindictive, unyielding, talented, compassionate, bold, spirited, pious, impassioned, loyal, loving ...somebody who inspired either complete devotion or implacable hatred, with very little in between, and felt comparable extremes towards her own family, friends, and adversaries.

From my least favourite...I try to remember that every choice she made was morally defensible and/or justifiable, from her own perspective, regardless of whether or not it actually was (and of course, they weren't always). I try to remember also that fear and insecurity can best explain some of her less palatable choices, as enumerated here. Basically, just that she was human and flawed, but also that there were many people personally (and often, religiously) invested in magnifying her flaws and reducing, or even outright omitting, her strengths. Obviously, that misogyny can also be a factor in some of her portrayals, is a salient remembrance to keep in mind, as well.

[ybcpatrick]

? your moms famous

hshdhjsjjd no. not at all. justin bieber's family and my family come from the same city/area, and my mum was friends with his parents back in the day

[gothlibrariansims]

Knox Greenburg asked Eden out on a date for Love Day! Maybe this will lead to something?

[thinkingabouttimdrake]

i love you the humanity in art

i love you allusions to things personally influential to the creator i love you homages i love you references to previous stories a creator has told i love you repeating iconography over the course of several projects i love you reused characters put into new contexts i love you creator's thumbprint i love you linguistic quirks i love you themes approached over and over again from different angles over the course of a creator's body of work i love you visible growth i love you shout-outs i love you reference-as-storytelling i love you required reading to enjoy a story i love you foundational texts

[therhythmafterthesummer]

HOLAAAAAA COMO ESTÁS????

hace mucho que no escribo, y quisiera disculparme TT el universo cree que soy su mejor guerrero y no me ha dado tiempo de venir a saludar TT (los early twenties son horribles)

genuinamente espero estés bien 🫵 si no, u got this, eres un ser poderoso 🫵

tengo una pregunta sobre las humanas jsjsjd antes de estar en una relación con hombres lobo, consideraban llamativo tener algo (relación carnal, amorosa y así) con alguna criatura sobrenatural?? chance y no al nivel de considerarse monsterfuckers, pero sí decir "por qué no?", o nunca cruzó por sus mentes??

te mando besos y abrazos 💞💞

-🦝

ayy bb espero que tú también estés bien 🫂🫂🫂🫂 tú también eres un ser poderoso ☝️ (pero igual espero que el universo te esté dando la oportunidad de descansar, creo que tods lo necesitamos......)

yo estoy..... okay. solo okay, creo jsdfbsjkdf cansada y done de la vida, pero bueno... uno le da pa'lante.

sobre tu pregunta... creo que kitten era esa que estaba en modo "why not?", considerando que desde muy pequeña sabía de la existencia de los seres sobrenaturales. ella me da vibes de "i'll try something at least once" y creo que eso puede incluir a todos los seres que rondan su mundo sdjfbskdjfhsdf. ya no, por supuesto. ella ya tiene su propio monstruo que la complazca☝️☝️ y estoy segura que está bastante feliz con ello.

en cuanto a pretty.... creo que nunca se lo planteó. siento que podría haber sido bastante normie/vanilla antes de enterarse de que existían los seres sobrenaturales. ahora...... cuando se enteró que Chris era un hombre lobo??? Interés Absoluto. pero específicamente con hombres lobo (por obvias razones). aunque ya para ese punto probablemente no estaría muy interesada en nadie que no fuese Chris. subconscientemente estaría saboteando cualquier posible cita que tuviese, hasta que eventualmente dejó de salir con gente y terminó con nuestro alfa favorito.

no me extrañaría si de vez en cuando ambas se encontrara a sí mismas en alguna página no necesariamente lícita mirando contenido Específico para Ciertos Gustos (if you know what i mean).

espero eso responda tu pregunta. ya ni sé lo que estoy diciendo creo sdkfjbshjfd

besito, bb 😽

[neonln4]

i found a good boy, and he's on my side | lando norris smau

lando norris x reader | a little bit of best friend!oscar

summary: when y/n's ex writes a messy song about her, fans push for lando to break up with her (he doesn't even consider it)

fc: sabrina carpenter

kind of a part 2 to what a coincidence, but you don't have to read part 1 for this to make sense

warnings: non-existent angst, lando very much in love with y/n, very brief mention of cheating (not lando), maybe some typos

note: y/e = your ex

yourex

liked by user1 and 593,827 others

yourex Biting My Tongue out tonight

Finally sharing my truth

View all 1,384 comments

user1 WE LOVE YOU Y/E

user2 ready for the tea 🍿

ynfan2 PLEASE LEAVE Y/N ALONE I BEG WE'RE OVER YOU

ynfan1 "sharing my truth" OHHHH BROTHER

user3 the y/n fans getting nervous

ynfan2 not nervous, sick of his lies

user2 perhaps y/n isn't as perfect as you think

user4 anyone else just here for the music

user5 @ yourusername YOU ARE SO OVER

♡

♡

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbff, and 1,138,827 others

yourusername leng

View all 5,394 comments

ynfan2 UNBOTHERED QUEEN

user2 is she just pretending her ex didn't drop a shady song about her

user6 lando still in the likes ... this is so sad

yourbff your reminder to not wear the red top this weekend

yourusername you've seen my outfits already TRUST there's no red in sight

landonorris that's my girl

ynfan1 MOTHER IS GOING TO SILVERSTONE

user4 how has lando not dumped you yet

user5 you really don't deserve lando

user3 HAS LANDO HEARD THE SONG YET? DUMP HER!!!

ynfan3 what's with all the loser hate comments

landonorris my girlfriend is sooooo leng now come give me a kiss

yourusername calm down

yourusername on my way tho

♡

♡

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername, and 983,492

landonorris a little summer fun

View all 1,493 comments

user1 JEALOUS

yourusername who's the baddie

landonorris that's my girlfriend mate back off

ynfan2 WHY ARE THEY LIKE THIS

user3 waiting for the dumping...

user4 crazy that they're still together

user8 i think some of y'all are a bit dramatic, the song wasn't even that bad and it's just his perspective

ynfan3 A LANDO FAN WITH A BRAIN

yourbff last pic i want her baddddd

landonorris so you don't want [redacted]'s number anymore?

yourbff WAIT I TAKE IT BACK

ynfan2 QUEEN Y/BFF FINALLY APPROVING OF ONE OF Y/N'S MEN

oscarpiastri you stole my best friend

yourusername we literally have plans next week

♡

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 1,293,283 others

yourusername is this thing on? 🎤

View all 3,128 comments

ynfan1 MOTHER IN THE STUDIO!!!!!

ynfan2 the last pic has me crying 😭😭 i just know she's about to be a menace

user2 if she's actually making a response song that's kinda pathetic

user3 right? her fans all say y/e is using her for fame but she's also doing it

yourbff let me hear it first

oscarpiastri i better get the link first

landonorris ignore both of them, i get first dibs

user1 THE DRAMA if she's making a response song lando better get out of there quick before he's her next victim

user4 WE DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

ynfan3 all these haters camping on y/n's post omg she's so famous

ynfan4 WE LOVE YOU Y/N IGNORE THE LOSERS

♡

♡

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 1,428,372 others

yourusername my turn🩷

surprise! planned to keep these in the vault, but i guess things change. 'vicious' and 'eternal sunshine' live performances out now on youtube! studio version out friday 💋

View all 5,382 comments

landonorris proud of you love 🤍

yourusername 🧡🧡🧡

ynfan2 OH MY GOD NO WAYYYYYYY

ynfan3 "my turn🩷" THAT'S MOTHERRRRRRRRR

ynfan1 love lando supporting her through it all that's a good man

ynfan4 SHE SPILLED Y/E IS SO DONE

yourbff i love you so much!!!

yourusername love you!!

user3 these songs are really good ... sorry for hating before

user1 some of y'all switching up in the comments, she could be lying!!

ynfan5 perhaps i misinterpreted the lyrics, but did y/e CHEAT ON HER???

ynfan3 pretty sure 👀

♡

yourusername

liked by yourbff, landonorris, and 1,391,283 others

yourusername it doesn't get, doesn't get better than this 🧡

View all 4,302 comments

yourbff LOVE Y'ALL SO MUCH

ynfan4 THESE HAVE TO BE LYRICS

ynfan3 more lover girl music coming soon LET'S GOOOOOOO

ynfan2 y/n writing her two shady songs about y/e then going back to writing cheesy love songs for lando we love to see it

landonorris how i obsessively adore you 🤍

ynfan2 y'all they're quoting future lyrics right in front of our faces i just know it

user3 it's not looking like a break up any time soon

oscarpiastri answer my texts

yourusername sorry been busy 🤭

oscarpiastri disgusting

yourusername NOT LIKE THAT.

ynfan5 Y/NLANDO WILL ALWAYS PROSPER

♡

landonorris

liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 1,028,832 others

landonorris we are never breaking up btw

View all 2,384 comments

ynfan2 LMAOOOOOO

yourbff i'll have to break all of your bones if you ever hurt her

landonorris the scary thing is that i actually believe that you would

oscarpiastri hurt her and your life is over

landonorris DAMN DID Y'ALL READ THE CAPTION OR NO

user3 they're kinda growing on me y'all ...

ynfan4 everyone say we love you mom and dad

user4 worst news of my life

user2 i'm gonna be forced to like her this is terrible

yourusername thank god

landonorris if you leave me i think that i just might lose it completely

yourusername don't ever quote my songs at me again

[rowarn]

I just know that after that night, Victoria tried to call ONCE. Why once tho? Because Simon answered the phone in the middle of a very intense session, whispering in reader's ear to moan louder for him. After she heard the loud noises and Simon's soft voice she never tried to call him again.

simon riley / reader — set in the please love me universe!

fucking while on a call, jealousy, creampie, possessive!reader, vocal!simon <3

you were completely lost in pleasure, eyes rolled back in your head with simon's large body blanketing yours. your hand was clasped tightly in one his as he rutted his hips slowly and deeply, making sure to angle his hips just right so he could hit that sweet, gooey little spot inside you that made your entire body shiver with pleasure.

simon was obsessed with forcing your body to show every bit of what you were feeling. holding you down so you couldn't do anything but twitch and shake, forcing you to look at him so he could see the way your eyes filled with tears when he hit a little too deep.

he's slowly working you up to your 3rd orgasm of the night when the spell between the two of you is completely broken by the shrill ringing of his cell phone on the bedside table.

both of you freeze. it's not the ringing that comes when someone from the task force contacts him. the two of you share a brief look of confusion before he reaches over and grabs the device off of the night table.

you could see the second his facial expression changed and a sense of alarm rushed through you.

"what is it, si?" you ask, tugging his hand down so you could see his screen.

the number was immediately familiar to you -- it was her again. victoria. her name burns as it goes through your head.

to your horror, simon slid the call button over and answered, ignoring the indignation on your face. there's a coy little smile playing at the edge of his lips and you want to wipe it off because it's making you angry.

you can hear her shrill voice yapping away the second he answers, pressing the speaker button and tossing the device onto the bed.

you try to tune in to what she's saying but he starts rutting his hips, grinding his pelvis against your clit while he's got his cock snug inside your gooey cunt.

your eyes roll back at the feeling and you can't help the way you gasp from how good it feels.

"that's it, baby," simon coos, sitting back on his heels so he can bring his thumb down to lightly pet the swollen bud of your clit. the makes you moan louder and you faintly hear her voice from the phone ask, "si? what are you doing?"

hearing her call him that - so familiarly, like she has any claim over him makes you seethe.

simon grins when he sees that jealous flare in your eyes. he thinks it's cute - that you of all people are jealous. don't you know that he's completely and utterly devoted to you?

he pulls out just a little bit only to stuff his cock back inside. that pulls a beautiful moan from you that makes her go silent on the line. she calls his name again, clearly growing more agitated and humiliated.

"c'mon, sweetheart," he coos to you, "hold your legs for me, let me get real deep, yeah?"

you immediately do as you're told, wrapping your arms around your knees and pulling them back against your chest. the position allows him to get even deeper, pressing against that little spot deep inside that makes your toes curl and cries of pleasure rip from your chest.

he starts fucking your properly again, sticky sounds coming from between your thighs from how wet you are. your creamy arousal coats his cock and drips down his balls, making a mess of him all over but he loves it.

"oh! i-i'm gonna cum, si," you squeal, legs twitching in your hold but you don't let go, scared that if you move at all your orgasm will be lost and you'll have to start all over, "j-just like that, please don't stop!"

simon grits his teeth, biting back a moan of his own when he hears how sweetly you beg for him, "i know, baby. i'll get you there, you know i will."

you nod your head, eyes wide but vision blurry as it builds and builds until your entire body is tense. with one little pinch to your swollen clit, you cum with a wail of his name.

"shit. shit!" simon groans, tossing his head back to moan, "fuck, that's it. cum on my cock, cum, baby, cum. oh shit, i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you."

his body falls over yours, face buried in your neck as he fills you up just right, his cum oozing out from around the tight seal your cunt has around his cock. his pace gradually slows before he comes to a stop all together.

he reaches over to grab his phone, panting and trembling from how hard he came. when he looks at the screen, he snickers, turning to show you that the call had been disconnected.

you just hope she stayed around long enough to hear that he loves you and took the hint <3

[mystellenia]

riding bound abby's strap

summary: abby has teased you all day, so you decide to get back at her by taking away her most treasured sense: touch.

content: dom abby turned sub abby, strap on sex, like very very brief mommy kink? (it was literally one time), dry humping, bondage (pretty vanilla tho, just hands tied by a belt), kinda strip teasing

notes: this is so yummy omg. i've also had this idea for prob a solid two months but i’m just now writing it 🤗

(wc 1.3k)

abby lived to tease you. whether it was fleeting touches or whispering nasty things in your ear in public, she loved to see how you lost all composure from seemingly innocent actions. 

today, though, it was too much. she decided to wear her strap the entire day while you two were out shopping, constantly standing behind you and pulling your hips into her own so you'd feel her packing. she also refused to kiss you all day, promising she'd make up for it once you two got home. she'd pissed you off and you needed to get back at her somehow.  

with your pent-up frustration, you found yourself straddling abby's lap while she sat at the dinner table, work papers splayed across the stained hardwood. your hips mindlessly ground into the impossible-to-ignore bulge beneath her jeans, moaning while she sucked marks around the pulse of your neck. 

snaking your hands down her torso to unbuckle her pants, butterflies warm your lower stomach at a brewing thought. swinging your leg back over hers, you settle on your knees in between her meaty thighs and pull her belt from her waist and place it on the floor near you. you grab the hem of her shirt and rip it over her head, throwing it to the other side of the room and leaving her in her bra. 

abby leans back in the chair and smiles at you on your knees before her. "getting straight to the point, are we?" she smirks. 

your hands keep moving to undress her, pushing her jeans over her butt and moving her boxers down just enough for her faux clear cock to spring out, your mouth nearly watering at the sight. pressing your lips to the tip, you spit down the length and wrap your hand around it to lube the silicone up. 

you then smirk up at her, half mischief and half seduction as you rise from your knees and trail your hand up her chest. walking around the chair to be behind her, you drop a kiss on the crown of her head, her leather belt hidden in your hand behind your back. 

her head turns back to look at you, and you grab her chin and smash your lips against hers to distract her as you grab her wrists and pull them together, quickly wrapping her belt around them and fastening the buckle, tightly. 

she pulls back from the kiss and flicks her eyes between yours, arousal painted brightly across her features. 

"did you just..." she chuckles in disbelief, her eyes squinting. "did you just tie me up?" 

"someone thought it was funny to tease me all day, touching me in places you know will rile me up. well, you've touched me enough for today, so this'll have to do." you pat her cheek twice, your words dripping in mock sympathy. 

she incredulously shakes her head and smiles, wetting her bottom lip with her tongue. "you know what? you can have your fun," she concludes, sure that she'd be able to wiggle her way out of the restraints before you came so she could properly fuck you the way she wanted to. 

"perfect," you breathe out, kissing her cheek before walking back around to stand in front of her. you make a show out of undressing yourself, taking your sweet time with caressing your curves and soaking in how her pupils dilate at the sight.

after pushing your black leggings over the curve of your ass and pulling them from your ankles, you pull the loose-fitted t-shirt over your head, looking at the simple seal on the breast once you drop it to the floor. 

all that's left is your underwear and your bra. you kick the polka-dot panties down, but decide to leave your bra on. it was simple: black with small, pink hearts covering the cups. abby seemed to like it, too. her eyes were locked on your bra-clad boobs, only moving to switch from one to the other. 

you take the two steps to stand in between her legs, placing your hands on her shoulders to stabilize yourself as you look down at her dick. your eyes catch her pubic hair below the strap, and you think about going down on her with her tied up but she cuts your thoughts off with an impatient groan. 

"come on, baby, you wanted to tie me up so bad. play your little game and ride me already," she orders, her eyes drinking you up.

her words and poorly masked desperation leave a warm feeling swirling in your stomach, so you swing your legs over hers to straddle her and grab the base of her cock to line it up. 

your jaw drops open as you slowly sink down onto her length, long and breathy gasps making your chest rise and fall as you adjust to the thickness. you hear abby mutter "jesus christ" under her breath, and if your head wasn't thrown back, you'd see her strong arms twitching against the belt tying them together.  

her hips jerk up into yours and push the rest of the length into you, making you hiss at the intrusion. "god," you whisper, and lift yourself back up before slamming your body back down. 

"i- fuck!" abby yelps, not used to being unaware of the next move. 

you fall into a steady rhythm, your thighs lifting and dropping you onto her dick. the way you were moving—the sounds you were making—would quickly push abby over the edge, but she was done letting you take control. she needed to touch you, needed to see the way your pussy swallowed her in with every thrust. 

her hands begin to try and undo whatever maneuver you'd done to restrain them, but nothing budged. you notice her abs starting to tighten, a telltale sign that she was getting closer, and begin rocking your hips against hers and rubbing the base of the strap against her clit. 

she starts getting frustrated at how you have full control over her, but deep in a place she'd never admit, it spurs her on more.  

"wait, baby, wait wait. i can't- fuck. i want my hands. i need to touch you. i need my hands now," she pleads, her eyes starting to water at the oncoming orgasm. 

you ignore her and start praising her, knowing it'll make her thighs shake. 

"ohh, fuck," you say, your voice 90% air. "it feels... feels so good. you feel so good. always are so good to me, baby." 

right on cue, her thighs start shaking beneath you, tears falling from her glossy eyes.  

"oh, i can't- i can't, baby. i’m gonna cum," she whines, her groans replaced by needy whimpers. 

"come on, mama, let it out," you groan, giving her permission. "want you to feel good. let it out." 

she lets out a string of rushed thank yous before her stomach muscles completely tighten as she cums, unable to control the loud whines that leave her mouth as she does. you follow closely behind, allowing the sensation of her cock pushing against your cervix to wash over you. 

after what feels like an entire minute, the two of you come down from your highs, a light sheen of sweat highlighting your skin. abby has her head lolled back and is trying to catch her breath, her limbs like jelly after how intensely she came. you suck kisses on her exposed neck while she calms down. 

"holy shit," she gasps. 

"who would've thought abby anderson could get so whiny?" you tease. 

"i just wanted my hands back! god, you're evil." 

"i love you, too," you grin. 

dom turning into a sub because of desperation kink go brrrrrrrrrr

reblog if you think murder is bad and that children shouldn’t die

also ignore how these tags are it's the only way i could make sure all of them work. little tip to writers: after about an hour of trying ive figured out that only 5 tags can be in one line. every five people you tag, you gotta indent and start a new line. couldve saved me a lot of time ☺️

@abbysbug @victoria9687 @abbys-gay @serevena @r0binbuckleyswife

@moonalumi @atyourmerci @grey-jedi12 @andersonsprincess @bookpagecandlescent

@lilsmartiepants @tohoko @sevenneves @prettyinpinkcat @slagmagnet9000

@msmsmsms8 @thyjinji @lesbian-useless @cattjull @itzkimi

@h00d-tr4sh @abby-anderson-wifey @abbyshands @llllbtrz @thyjinji

@idkwhattoputherelol @she-canyon @ellieisheretoo @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @picklesarenice69

[reidsmanuscript]

Cracks in the System

Summary: What happens when a string of murders tied to the District Attorney's office lands on the BAU's desk, a high Spencer Reid struggles through withdrawal, and reader, the genius A.D.A., stumbles upon Reid's darkest secret? Tensions rise as professional and personal boundaries blur, leading to revelations that could shatter them both. Pairing: Spencer reid x lawyer!reader Genre: HEAVY ANGST, a little bit of comfort, open-bittersweet-ending Tw: spencer's addiction arc, no y/n but reader has a lastname and a nickname bc it would be impossible otherwise, mental health issues, mention of food and skipping meals?, imppliead reader's past with drugs and abuse (not graphic tho), canon typical cm violence, reader dislikes gideon as father figure wc: 9.2k! A/N: i always HATED how reid´s addiction got portrayed so here´s my take on it, english is not my first language part I - part II - part III - ... - masterlist

　　　　 　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.　　　　　　

In the chill of autumn morning, while the BAU reunited for the debriefing of a case where their help had been specially requested per the District Attorney, old college friend of Hotch, a string of murder had been recently connected due to the victim’s correlation to the office.

Morgan, Prentiss, Gideon, and Hotch sat in their usual spots, reviewing the files as JJ prepared to brief them. Spencer Reid entered late for the second time that week, a distant look in his eyes, his demeanor unusually absent. No one acknowledged his lateness.

JJ took it as her cue to begin. “A string of murders have been committed around the capitol's perimeter, 3 women all killed and found at the surroundings of their home, Sarah Jennings, 23, defense attorney. Found in a downtown alley.." She clicked to the next slide, revealing another victim. "Second, Nicole Hart, 25, paralegal. And finally, Emily Russell, 30, judge. Found just outside her apartment. All victims were killed within a three-month span. Each one of them were found with a different note”

"Your silence speaks for itself."

"Mitigating circumstances should not overshadow the gravity of the crime."

"Your behavior demonstrates a pattern of reckless disregard for justice."

“M.O.?” asks Prentiss. “Strangulation and multiple stabs to the chest were revealed by the reports” answers JJ.

Morgan adds “So overkill and legal connection, did they knew each other?”

“Families have denied any possibility of any of them being friends with each other” JJ answers.

Reid, who has been anxiously tapping his fingers in the arms of his chair, huffs in frustration, ignoring how annoying his subtle tremor is “So outside a simple note no connection.”

Gideos shoots him a glare but before he can say anything Garcia appears through the tv screen “My dear fuzzy friends, i have found something," She adjusts her glasses and clicks away at her keyboard. "All four victims have recent ties to cases handled by the District Attorney's office, big ones, too. Corruption charges, high-profile lawsuits, political scandals. It's a feast of legal drama."

Morgan leans forward, his interest piqued. "Anything specific about their involvement?"

"Funny you should ask," Garcia says with a wry grin. “Jennings provided testimonies in ongoing cases. Hart did legal research for one of those cases, and Russell? Well, she worked directly with the DA's office on prepping trial strategies. But here's the kicker—none of them worked together. Different cases, different departments. And all of them seemed to be very successful on their own"

Prentiss raises an eyebrow. "So 3 successful women with overkill, that sounds like envy to me"

Reid, his voice laced with a nervous edge, blurts out “Envy could be a factor, but it's also the level of violence. Overkill is usually a sign of a deep personal rage. It's like the unsub is targeting not just their professional lives, but something deeper, maybe the idea of success they represent.”

Gideon glances at the screen. "Any connections between the cases themselves?"

Garcia shakes her head. "Nothing that stands out yet, but I’m digging deeper. Let me keep working on it. I'll be needing access to the information the D.A. office has”

Gideon folds his arms over the table. “If they're found around their personal home it could mean the unsub is following them or getting the information from somewhere else. Someone inside the DA’s office could be leaking it."

Morgan shakes his head. "How do we narrow it down? A place like that probably has dozens of people handling sensitive information."

Hotch rises from his chair. "We need a list of who has access to it and interrogate them, but first, we should brief the DA. If someone in their office is compromised, they need to be aware of the risks."

JJ nods. "The District Attorney requested our help specifically. She mentioned an ADA, Woodvale, her right hand, who might be able to help us get a clearer picture of the internal dynamics in their office.” A photo of you in professional attire, looking sharp with an almost predatory confidence appears on the tv screen while JJ explains how you have been working with all the victims for different cases.

Morgan smirks. "Sounds like she’s got her hands full with this mess."

Reid rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath, "Perfect. Another overachiever."

The team exchanges uneasy glances but says nothing. Hotch sends Morgan and Reid to the D.A. office while Prenttis, Gideon and him go to the victims' workplace. As the team disperses, Reid lingers behind, rubbing his temples in frustration. Gideon notices but says nothing.

　　　　 　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.　　　　　　

At your office, returning from Judge Gibson’s chambers after pushing for a warrant, your assistant, Molly, looks up from her desk.

"Austin’s waiting in your office," she says, a small smile tugging at her lips.

You thank her and add, “Call the detectives and let them know the warrant is secured.”

As you step into your office, Austin is lounging in the chair across from your desk, a familiar paper bag dangling from his hand.

“Your mom sent you this,” he announces, lifting the bag as if it’s a prized trophy.

You let out a sigh, already knowing what’s inside and taking off the clip that holds your hair in a half pony off, relaxing a bit. “Can you stop going to my parents’ house without me? It’s kind of weird.”

“It’s not weird. She always gives me sweets and pastries. You should see the look on her face when I take them.”

“Well, I’m glad someone enjoys them” you mutter, dropping your leather bag in your chair, taking the bag and peeking inside, finding a full banana loaf and a neatly packed sandwich that your mom always sends every couple weeks to ensure you eat enough and take time to rest.

You grab the loaf and glance back at the door. “Molly, I’m taking fifteen for lunch” you call. As you step toward her desk, handing over to her the dessert, you notice two men standing in front of it.

Neither of them looks familiar, no badges in sight, so they're not cops or detectives. One of them’s dressed too casually to be a lawyer, and the tall one has a leather messenger bag just like yours. He seemed distracted, his sharp features catching the light as he frowned slightly, visibly uncomfortable with the brightness in the room.

Molly glances at you, then back at the men. “They asked to see you, Ms. Woodvale.”

You study them for a moment, your fingers still wrapped around the paper bag from Austin. The tall one stood out, his tousled hair, a quiet intensity in his eyes. You quickly push the thought aside. “And you are?”

The broad one steps forward, offering a warm but professional smile. “Agent Morgan. This is Dr. Spencer Reid. We’re with the FBI.”

Your eyes narrow slightly, not out of distrust but because an unannounced visit from the FBI rarely means good news. “FBI? What’s going on?”

Morgan’s gaze shifts between you and Austin who is now standing behind you with his arms crossed, casually leaning against the doorframe. “Can we speak in private?” he asks, his tone calm but firm.

You frown but nod slightly, feeling the sensitivity of the conversation, opening the door widely for them to enter, looking at Austin apologetically, and you see him frowned as well but gets the hint.

Austin pushes off the doorframe, clearly reluctant to leave. “I’ll be outside if you need me, Woody.” you would’ve preferred he did not use the dumb nickname he gave you in front of the feds, but at least it softened the tension in the air. It was a subtle reminder that you had allies.

Once inside, you clip your hair back and slip into professional mode as they take in your office, your diplomas, the little wooden chess board your father gifted you when you were 15, your little trinkets arranged through the shelfs. You set the paper bag down on your desk, smooth your blue suit, crossing your arms as Morgan steps forward, his tone polite but serious. “We’re here about the leak in your office. The D.A. suggested you might have information that could help us.”

Your expression hardens, a mix of frustration and worry bubbling beneath the surface. You’d been working to deal with the fallout, but if the FBI was here now, it meant the situation had escalated far beyond your control. “I’m already working with the detectives assigned to the case,” you say, keeping your tone even. “Why is the FBI suddenly involved?”

“Because people are dying,” answers Reid sharply and a bit too harshly, with a too obvious expression.

Morgan glares at him briefly, before stepping in to clarify. “We believe the leak in your office is connected to a string of murders. The unsub is targeting individuals tied to the office, we believe is a male driven by envy towards powerful and successful women and possibly has someone from here leaking personal information. Does that ring any bells?”

Your brow furrows as you digest the information. “Envy over women?” You let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “That doesn’t help or narrow anything down in a place like this. And ff there’s someone leaking information in this office, I would’ve—”

“Maybe you’re too close to it to see the cracks,” Reid interrupts, frustration clear in his voice. His gaze is sharp, challenging, and for a brief moment, you feel like you’re being dissected under a microscope.

“Excuse me?” The words come out clipped, your irritation flaring at his insinuation.

Morgan steps in, shooting Reid a pointed look that speaks volumes. “What Dr. Reid is trying to say,” he begins, his tone patient, “Is that we’re not ruling anything out yet. We’re here to figure out how the information is getting out, not to place blame.”

Your eyes linger on Reid for a moment. His posture is rigid, his hands curling around the straps of his bag, fingers flexing into fists before relaxing again. There’s something raw about him, an edge that feels out of place but oddly familiar. You can’t decide if it’s irritation, exhaustion, or something else entirely.

“And what exactly makes you think the information is still coming from here?”

Morgan reaches into his jacket, pulling out a thin file. He places it on your desk and flips it open, revealing photos of victims and case files. “These are the people we’ve identified so far. All of them were connected to cases your office has handled in the past 3 months. The timeline suggests the leak is ongoing.”

You skim the photos, the pit in your stomach growing heavier with each passing second. “And you’re sure this isn’t coincidental?”

Reid answers again, his voice tight. “Murders tied to your office’s cases? That’s not a coincidence. It’s a pattern.”

“Reid,” Morgan says firmly, his voice a quiet warning.

Reid exhales sharply, scratching his neck he mutters, “Sorry. I mean... it’s statistically significant.”

You straighten up, your gaze flicking between the two agents. “What do you need from me?”

Morgan’s grin softens the tension in the room. “Your insight, the D.A. said she trusted you to be our inside guide. We think you can help us fill in some blanks.”

You go through the file and nod “Fine. But if we’re doing this, I want access to everything you have so far. I don’t work blind.”

“Fair enough, we will also need a list of the people who have access to sensible information for our tech analyst, and if you can come to our office it would be useful” Morgan says.

“I'll have my assistant send it, let me just get some stuff” they nod and step out of your office, you grab your coat, satchel leather bag swinging it over one shoulder and eyed the untouched lunch.

“She’s going to be pissed if you give that to anyone else,” Austin says from the doorframe. You roll your eyes and bite the sandwich, your mother is an incredible woman and baker, but in your opinion she always excels herself when it comes to savory. “What was that about?” He asks.

“Apparently we have a mole in the office that's connected to murder by someone who’s envious of women” you answer halfway through that sandwich.

Austin’s expression sharpens as he steps closer. “Need me to look into it?” he offers, he’s an experienced private investigator who’s helped you through more cases than you can count. His connections, street smarts, and knack for digging up information have been invaluable to you, especially when things get too tangled for the usual channels. You could call him your best friend; though sometimes you threaten to kill him for knowing way too much about you.

You nod, finishing the sandwich, crumpling the paper bag and walking to the door “I'll text you if I need your help” you leave the office, going through the hallways to find the agents who lead you to their SUV on the way to Quantico.

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At headquarters, you stand in a room in front of the plastic board, all the victims, your ex-colleagues, none of them were truly friends, just girls you have worked with and you have lamented their deaths when you find out. You never thought their deaths could be related, less so to your office. You never thought their deaths would affect you so… personally.

You had already been introduced to the team, they all seemed professional and grounded, though you already knew Agent Hotchner from when he was a prosecutor, you shaked hands with Prentiss, Gideon, and JJ, letting your coat and bag in one of the chair’s arm in the conference room after being hand out the files.

The team gathers around the plastic board, Reid standing slightly to the side, tapping a pen against his palm with restless energy. He was looking at you and the way your eyes moved through the board, like you were physically trying to connect the dots, the way you were flicking your nails unconsciously, it was driving him crazy.

They had given the full profile of the unsub. Male from 30 to 35, probably has a job in the criminal justice world but his work goes unnoticed which lead to him being envious of women and blaming them when it comes to injustice, therefore the accusing notes.

You could think in a couple names from that description, but none of them were capable of murder, let alone how violent the crime scene pictures showed. From the list of people with recent access you had gave out, you secretly wished they were wrong about a mole. Although something sat wrong for you when you looked at the notes, why would someone-

A bright sound cuts through the room and your thoughts, Garcia’s voice, announcing through the screen, “Okay, folks, I’ve cross-checked the office access records with everything we have so far, and guess what? We have a match.” She sounded confident “Someone on the inside had access to all of the victims’ files. And it’s not just anyone. We have a name, and a face.” she announced showing a picture of a Paralegal friend of you, no. “Ana Lopez” Garcia continues, the name sounding almost foreign as it leaves her lips. “She’s been in and out of the office with access to every victim’s file, and I’ve cross-referenced her movements—she’s had a direct connection to every single one of them. And what's more... she had an unusual interest in the victim's case files long before things escalated.”

“it´s not Ana” the words leave your tongue before you can stop them.

Prentiss looks at you with a concerned expression “is she your friend? look i know it can be hard to digest that she-”

“She's very advocate to the victims,” you interrupt, with a voice tight, as you shakes your head. “Ana's been one of the most outspoken advocates for justice in the office. She’s passionate about these cases, about the women who get overlooked. She doesn’t fit the profile. This isn’t her."

“People can do out-of-character things when they’re pushed to their limit” Gideon interjects calmly, cutting through your spiraling thoughts and rambling. His voice is soft, but there’s an undeniable weight to it. “We’ve all seen it. The pressure can change people. It’s not always what it seems.”

Hotch nods, already stepping into action. “We’ll have to bring Ana in for questioning. Morgan, JJ, go to her house, Garcia will send you the address.”

Morgan gives a nod, and JJ’s gaze flickers to you, but she doesn’t say anything, respecting the heavy tension that hangs in the air.

You stand still, a knot of frustration tightening in the chest. You couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness in all of this. Partially because Ana was a steady paralegal who wouldn´t hand out sensitive information, and partially because you felt there was something else buried deeper, and you needed answers.

“Look… let me dig further into this,” you reach for your phone, desperately avoiding the feeling of becoming someone who clings to conspiracy theories. “How are you planning on doing that?” Hotch’s voice is firm, questioning, but not dismissive.

“You have your sources, and I have mine,” your tone sharp as you speed dials a number. The phone rings once, twice, before it clicks. “Austin,” you step into the bullpen to take the call. “They think the mole is Ana”

“Lopez? That can be it. One time, I saw her take down a guy who was trying to cut corners on a case. She was too righteous about it, if you ask me.”

You exhale sharply, a mix of frustration and confusion clawing, making the room too warm for your liking, leading you to take your navy blazer off and settle it over a desk chair. “I don’t know, Austin. My gut tells me there's something more. I need answers.”

“You think someone’s using her name? Hacking her or setting her up?” Austin asks, picking up on her suspicions.

“Exactly,” you answer quickly. “I don’t know how they’re doing it, but I need you to dig into everything—anything that could explain this. There has to be something we’re missing. Get me answers, Austin.”

“Understood, Captain,” he replies, his voice laced with a touch of humor despite the seriousness of the situation. “I’ll get to work on this and call you with anything I find.” he hangs up.

You save your phone, square your shoulders and take a deep breath, noticing Prentiss walking towards you, concern in her eyes. She stops just a few feet away and speaks gently, “Hey… I know this is a lot, and I know it’s close to home for you. Do you want some coffee? It might help clear your head for a moment.”

You glance at her, tired but appreciative of the offer. A small sigh escapes your lips as you nod. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

She leads you to the break room, a quiet part of the office where the noise of the investigation feels a little further away. The sound of the coffee machine brews in the background as she pours two cups, and you deny when she asks for how much sugar. She hands one before sitting down across from you at the table.

You take the mug in your hands, feeling the warmth seep through, the bitter and burn taste grounding your thoughts. “I get that you’re all just doing your jobs, Prentiss. I understand that. It’s just... as an attorney, you learn to read people. And sometimes, you have to trust your gut. Right now, my gut is telling me I missed something, not about Ana but about all of this.”

Prentiss nods like she understands what you are saying, letting the silence settle between you for a moment “You know you seem young to be A.D.A.” she jokes lightly.

Raising up your cup “That’s what the defense always says before losing” you say back, thanking internally for the attempt to ease up “I'm 22… I graduated from law school at 18 and immediately got an internship… so since then i’ve been working up my position”

Prentiss chuckles softly, leaning back in her chair. “Don't tell me you are a genius too… I can see why though. You’ve got a sharp edge to you—good for the courtroom, probably not so great for poker.”

You chuckle, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “Well, let’s just say I prefer chess.” Sensing where the conversation might go, you subtly steer it away, curious about what she meant by too but before you can say more, Austin’s ringtone erupts, cutting through the quiet hum of the break room. You quickly pull your phone out and answer. “Got you answers” he says.

That was enough for you to put him on speaker mode and head back to the room with the rest of the team.

“Turns out Ana had an intern who’s been frequenting closed files, Daniel Reeves” he states, and when you don´t recognize the name it weirds you out. “I don’t recall that name”.

“That’s because he was at the office while you and I were on vacation in L.A. in February,” Austin explains. You’re too focused on connecting the dots to notice Gideon’s raised eyebrows or Spencer’s subtle eye roll.

“Anyway,” Austin continues, “This kid’s good with computers and had access to her credentials. Nobody paid too much attention to him, but an officer told me he’s been prowling around the file room for the last couple of months. I can’t guarantee he’s your guy, but it’s definitely worth looking into.”

“Daniel Reeves…” Garcia says through the desk phone speaker. “Graduated top of his class in computer science, specialized in cybersecurity, and interned with several law firms before Ana’s office. If anyone could hack a system and cover their tracks, it’s him.”

“Looks like he had access to the same systems Ana uses,” Garcia adds “And—oh, this is interesting—there’s a flagged incident from his previous internship. Something about unauthorized access to confidential records, but no charges were filed.”

Hotch steps forward, his posture commanding as always. “Garcia, send the new address to Morgan and JJ. I’ll let them know we found the mole”

“On it, Hotch. They’ll be there in no time.” She answers.

You take a deep breath, rubbing your forehead and letting settle the satisfaction that you are being useful to stop this madness. You glance at the phone, and press the speakerphone off. “Thanks for your help, Austin.”

The voice on the other end crackles with a slight delay, but Austin’s tone is unmistakable “Glad I could help Woody, take care”. You smile faintly at the nickname. “You too,” you say before hanging up and saving your phone in your bag, returning your attention to the team.

Reid, still fidgeting with the files in front of him, looks up briefly, his gaze lingering just a little too long. The flicker of his interest escapes you, your thoughts focused on the notes but you don't acknowledge it, choosing instead to focus on the case.

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There was something oddly familiar about the notes; and, of course, you were the only one noticing it. Since Austin’s discovery, they had brought in Daniel Reeves, who confessed to being blackmailed, claiming he had no idea who was behind any of this, so it was almost a dead end. You flicked your nails unconsciously, if you had a pen you would swirl it and if you weren’t so anxious you would be seated with your leg bouncing.

"Your silence speaks for itself."

"Integrity means different things to different people. Some get to define it for themselves."

"Your behavior demonstrates a pattern of reckless disregard for justice."

"Your behavior demonstrates a pattern of reckless disregard for justice." That one had stuck up with you. Reckless disregard. Reckless disregard. Reckless disregard. The way it rolled through your tongue gave you the clue of something else. You knew you had used those words before, if you could only place where; thousands of citations, warrants? Your eyes would move from point to point like you were physically searching, your nails would flick faster and faster. Where?

“God, could you stop doing that!?” Reid snaps, his gaze sharp with annoyance, and you look at him with the eyes of a deer caught in headlights.

You have learned over the years to not take stuff thrown at you personally, whether it is an out loud objection, a dirty trick in court with a judge, an inmate yelling at you for getting a sentence, an annoyed face in the search of a judge to sign a warrant, you do-not-take-it-personally.

But the look on Reid’s face made you feel like a 15-year-old misfit again, the girl who would cry, jump, and be on the verge of a panic attack if anyone accidentally touched her or if something too sweet triggered memories of hands creeping up, a teenager surrounded by college students who believed she was a narcissist egomaniac violent freak, a look you were afraid to find in your parents eyes when the therapist had told them about your anger issues and impulsiveness after you had destroyed the lamp in your bedroom, a look of plain annoyance not for what you had done but for who you are and what you represent, a mere obstacle, you were awkward and overwhelmed by everything. For a moment, the confident prosecutor, the woman in charge, vanished.

And you knew everybody in the room had noticed it, even after you had recovered from that second, you noticed it in the look on Derek's face, the way he looked at you apologetically, “Reid.” Gideon said, like a father scold his kid.

“It's okay I'll.. i need a coffee” you excuse yourself out of the room as fast and collected as you can, looking for some air.

In the room Reid senses his outburst has landed harder than he would’ve imagined. “Reid, go back to the scene. Start digging through the evidence again. There might be something we missed.” Hotch’s voice cuts through the air, and he opens his mouth to protest “Now.” Hotch remarks, which stops him from going further.

It was just so fucking annoying, the way she flicked her nails nonstop. Why did nobody see it?. So on his way out he grabs the leather bag that’s in one of the chairs of the room and finds it so irritating when Gideon follows him to notice there’s another satchel, in his desk chair covered with a blue blazer, his satchel.

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You had poured yourself another cup of extra bitter coffee, why did it affect you so much? god it was pathetic, you had faced worse than some guy calling you annoying. Maybe because you haven't seen it coming, maybe because it was so… reckless.

Reckless disregard. Reckless disregard.

Now where the fuck did you know that from? While being focused you sensed someone coming and discovered it was Morgan’s footsteps echoing through the bullpen, drawing your attention back to the present.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice low as he stepped into your line of sight. “How you holding up?”

You took a deep breath, trying to center yourself. “I’m fine, just… thinking. I guess.” you tried to brush off, your mind was already elsewhere.

“Look, Reid is going th—”

“I’ve had it worse, really. I mean, law school is not for the weak,” you interrupted, joking, before he could start feeling pity for you.

He huffs with humor and decides to drop the apology on Reid’s behalf. Instead, he leans casually against the wall, arms crossed, his eyes watching you carefully “Occupational hazard I suppose... you know sometimes I wonder what happens after we catch the Unsubs”

“Well the fight doesn't end there, it does bring peace to the victims but believe me.. the legal battle sometimes is worse than the haunt.” you stare at the wall as you recall some of the people you have helped over the years.

“What do you mean?” Morgan's brows furrowed as he leaned closer, genuinely intrigued.

“Well…” you began, taking a deep breath, “The system is messy. It’s not like TV where the bad guy just goes to jail, and everyone walks away happy. Families have to relive their trauma during trials. There are plea deals, technicalities, appeals... It drags on. And sometimes,” you pause, gripping your cup a little tighter, “Justice doesn’t feel like justice at all.”

Morgan tilted his head, his voice softer now. “You’ve seen that happen, haven’t you?”

You exhale sharply, giving him a sidelong glance. “More times than I’d like to admit. You work so hard to get the right outcome, and then… loopholes, errors, or even just bad luck. It’s like pouring water into a cracked glass. It never fills up.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “And the people who go through that… they don’t always come out the other side, do they?”

“No, they don’t.” You look down into your coffee, your mind turning over the notes again. “Sometimes they snap under the weight of it all, the pain, the guilt, the blame, the...”

Blame

Your head snaps at him as you realize. “Blame.” That was it.

He furrowed his eyebrows not catching your thoughts “What?”

The cup clatters onto the counter, the sound sharp in the quiet hallway, but you’re already moving, your steps brisk as you head toward the conference room. Morgan calls after you, his voice a mix of confusion and concern. “Hey, hold up! What’s going on?”

You don’t answer immediately, your mind racing as you burst into the room. The others look up, startled by your sudden entrance. Without a word, you grab the bag containing the notes from the board, your hands moving with purpose as you spread them out in front of you.

“Blame,” you say, your voice firm, almost breathless. “These notes and murders—they’re not coming from someone who’s envious, but from someone who’s blaming the system. Not because it didn’t recognize them, but because it failed them!” The words tumble out faster than you can organize them, your thoughts racing ahead of your mouth. You’re not even fully conscious of what you’re saying, already dissecting the next connection in your mind.

JJ steps closer, his brows furrowed in curiosity. “Failed them how?”

“They’re not jealous of the people they’re targeting,” you continue, pointing to the scattered notes as your mind sharpens. “They’re angry. Angry at the system for not delivering justice, for letting them down when they needed it the most.” You reach for one of the notes, holding it up as you ramble. “Look at the phrasing they’re accusatory they’re challenging the idea of accountability, of consequences it’s not about wanting what these people have it’s about punishing them for what the unsub sees as complicity in their pain.”

In your state of mind you barely recall the sound of Hotch’s phone and him stepping out of the room, too focused on looking at Morgan, Prentiss and JJ.

“The profile is wrong” Prentiss says, nodding slowly as she starts piecing it together herself. Her eyes flick to the board covered with crime scene photos and victims’ profiles. “That’s why he’s targeting people from both sides, defense and prosecution. It’s not about personal grudges against individuals; it’s about what they represent.”

“Exactly,” you reply, your voice firm. “He sees them as symbols of a broken system. Defense attorneys, paralegals, judges—they’re all complicit in his eyes. They’re the ones who allowed the system to fail him.”

Prentiss gestures to the timeline on the board. “But what was the trigger? What pushed him from feeling betrayed to committing these murders?”

You take a deep breath, your eyes scanning the notes again. “It’s got to be personal—a case he was directly connected to. Something happened that made him feel like the system didn’t just fail, but actively betrayed him. He have go to the records”

Morgan pushes off the table, already reaching for the phone. “Hey, Babygirl, we need you to go through court files and find something that stands out, any cases around three months ago when the murders started.”

“Okay, do you have anything more specific to know what I’m looking for?” Garcia’s voice crackles through the speaker, the familiar clacking of her keyboard filling the room as she prepares to search.

“We need to focus on high-profile cases that could have shaken the system. Look for any parole hearings, controversial verdicts, or any case that resulted in a big upset—something that would’ve made the Unsub feel like the system betrayed him,” He explains, already pacing with his phone pressed to his ear.

"Got it," Garcia responds, her fingers already flying across the keyboard. "I'll start pulling up all cases with defense or prosecution lawyers involved. High stakes stuff."

But before all of you could start digging and theorizing, Hotch’s voice cuts through the air, leaving you all frozen. “They’ve found another body with another note.”

The tension in the room thickens. Your breath takes off and without missing a beat, you all gather your things, it takes you a minute to find your blazer but in the heat of the moment you didn’t question why and how had your bag gotten under it, instincts kicking into gear as you rush to the scene.

“JJ you are with me, Gideon and Reid are already going to the scene” they all nod at the commanding voice of Hotch and you rush to get in the back seat of the black SUV with Morgan and Prentiss.

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In the car you take a moment to breathe and collect your thoughts to be able to think of anyone who can feel betrayed enough to commit murder. The problem is that anyone can feel betrayed enough to have an outburst. Hell, you were no one to talk about outburst if more than a couple times you had imagined yourself throwing something to inmates or smashing their heads against the table when all the evidence pointed at them being guilty and insisted on dragging the trials off.

“Can I ask why L.A. in the winter?” Prentiss' voice from the passenger seat brings you back to the car.

“What?”

“I mean it wouldn’t be my first choice for a romantic getaway” she thinks out loud.

“Ohh.. wait, romantic? Austin is not my boyfriend.. I just don’t like travelling alone” you are quick to correct her. You weren't lying, the statistics show how dangerous it is for women to travel alone and it gave your parents some peace to think someone will be there to keep you company that they trusted, plus he’s a good travel buddy because he knows when to bother and when to not do it.

Prentiss nods, as if taking mental notes, probably profiling you. “I just thought L.A. in the winter was more of a vacation spot, you know? Beaches, sunshine... not really the first place you’d think of for a quiet getaway.”

“They hold the biggest Doctor Who convention there during that time of the year ” you mumble, noticing how both Morgan and Prentiss look at each other as if sharing a thought and before you can ask, the blue and red lights hit you, announcing the arrival to the apartment complex, the crime scene.

You all step out of the car, the place is full of officers and you rush to where Gideon and Hotch are standing, note in hand. You notice how Reid has some urgency to tell you something but when JJ hands you the bag that secures evidence with the note.

"No one is above the law. Except for the guilty who’ve been given second chances."

Glancing at the note, your mind races, piecing together fragments of information, second chances. “Parole,” you murmur “The unsub is a victim, and their victimizer got out on parole!” Your eyes dart from point to point, connecting the dots. “That’s what he means by second chances.”

Hotch nods sharply “Garcia is already going through parole records.”

Just as the words settle, a new idea strikes you like lightning, and you barely take a breath before blurting, “I think I know something about the notes!” The sudden burst of realization sends you sprinting to the car, leaving the team, and a startled Spencer Reid, in your wake.

“Wait-” Spencer starts, his voice tight and laced with something unspoken, but you’re already too far gone to hear the rest, leaving him with panic in his eyes and an open mouth as he was about to say something.

Fumbling through your bag, your hands shake with the adrenaline coursing through you. “Your silence speaks for itself. Integrity means different things to different people. Some get to define it for themselves. Reckless disregard for justice. Second chances...” You mutter fragments aloud, recognizing the phrases. They weren’t random. You’ve read these words before, somewhere specific. A draft of a closing statement? A court transcript? Your fingers move frantically, searching for your phone, your notes, something. Why did you brought your copy of Crime and Punishment? and why did it look a little bit newer than yours? Where's your phone? Where are your files?. Not every criminal can get out on parole—they need good behavior, a stable support system… Maybe you put it in the front pocket.

Your hand grazes something cold and smooth. Glass. Then something sharp, metal. You freeze, pulling the objects into view. Two small bottles of Dilaudid and a needle. Your throat tightens, and you feel the air around you thin and the familiar warm that comes with anger starts to settle down your back.

You glance up, almost instinctively, and your furious eyes land on him. Spencer’s standing a few feet away, his expression is a contorted pale mask of fear, guilt, and helplessness, his eyes wide and pleading as they lock onto yours, making you look away at the full disclosure of a crime scene.

The chaos of the crime scene rushes back to you. The flash of blue and red lights dancing across every surface, the sharp crackle of radio chatter blending with raised voices, the metallic tang of blood still fresh in the air. Officers move purposefully, their dark uniforms a blur of activity as evidence is collected and barriers are secured.

There are 3 things going on in your brain right now.

This is not your bag, it's Spencer’s.

Spencer is an addict.

You are in the middle of a crime scene, surrounded by cops with a full stash of illegal drugs.

You have to think, think fast and now. The unsub, the drugs, the notes, his sharpness, the victims.

You see Morgan stepping out of the building, his sharp gaze scanning the scene. Panic rushes through you like ice water. You shove the Dilaudid and needle back into the bag, your hands trembling as you close it. Your mind races, desperate to piece together what to do next. “Morgan I need you to drive me to my office”

“What? Why?” he looks at you like you are out of your mind.

“I need a file I thought I had it with me but I don't and it would be faster I don't think the words of the notes are random I think I have seen them before in some legal file that could lead us to the Unsub” the words rush, you are rambling desperate to get out that place, clutching the strap of the bag to your chest.

Morgan’s sharp gaze lingers on you as he signals the car. “Get in,” he says before telling Prentiss and Hotch about it and getting in the car.

You slide into the passenger seat, gripping the bag so tightly your knuckles ache. Morgan settles into the driver’s seat and starts the engine, the rumble of the car barely masking the tension between you. As you approach your office building, you mentally rehearse your next steps. Get upstairs, dispose of the drugs, and look for the file. Your mind spins with the weight of the discovery, but you shove it aside as Morgan pulls up to the curb.

You get out of the car and enter the building. It’s past 10 pm so no one is around, except you two, as you get closer to your office you hear a noise somewhere that makes Morgan instincts spark up. “It's probably the janitor” you brush off.

“I’ll take a look” you nod and ask for his phone to call Garcia if needed, he gives it to you as he takes off his gun and you thank whatever mess that cleaning man was making, giving you the opportunity to execute your plan alone.

You open the door and rush to the bathroom taking the bottles out. How could Reid do something like this? Did his team know? The anger, a familiar flame, burns through you as you flush the contents of the bottle and went back to the office to look for the paper bag that had contained your lunch this morning.

It was irrational for you to be this angry at him without even knowing him but it was there, simmering under the surface. How could someone do this to himself? To his team? To the people who rely on him?

The crumpled paper bag from earlier sat on your desk, you broke the needle off, and shoved it inside with the empty bottles to dump it deep into one of the trash cans in the hallway. Out of sight, out of mind. At least for now.

You go through your cabinets, looking for the draft files. “Where is it?” you muttered under your breath, flipping through yet another folder. The contents were a jumble of case summaries, old briefs, and legal drafts, but none of them held the connection you were chasing. You were good with names, especially if it was tied to a legal document, which could be sad but right now is useful when you finally stumble upon a file that felt too familiar. You pulled it out, the edges worn from use, and opened it. A closing statement you’d written 5 years ago during a case.

Lawrence Finch. Larry.

Father of two kids with a wife, family that was taken away from him because in a car accident where the other driver was a rich guy who was too high to understand anything and got out harmless, Evan Grayson was his name. You remember how hollow he looked and how much he had thanked you after you got the guy sentenced. In your closing statement you spoke about the depth of his loss, about the void that could never be filled. You'd used his words, his pain, to hammer home the injustice, the lives lost because of one reckless decision. You remembered how his face had softened in that brief moment of relief after the sentence was handed down. He’d shaken your hand and said, “You gave me my justice.”

Glancing at the words you realize how the words you’d written, once so full of conviction, now echoed in your head, twisted and distorted. The Unsub had taken your closing statement—Lawrence Finch’s words—and turned them into something chilling.

"Your silence speaks for the victims. They can no longer speak for themselves." had become "Your silence speaks for itself."

"Integrity is the foundation of justice. It means holding those responsible accountable, no matter who they are." was now "Integrity means different things to different people. Some get to define it for themselves."

"His behavior demonstrates a complete disregard for human life, a pattern of recklessness that cannot go unpunished." had morphed into "Your behavior demonstrates a pattern of reckless disregard for justice."

And the final sting, the one that had sealed the fate of the driver who’d taken a family’s life, was now twisted into something far more personal "No one is above the law, not even those who believe their privilege protects them from it." turned into "No one is above the law. Except for the guilty who’ve been given second chances."

He wasn’t just echoing your words—he was using them, warping them into a weapon.

You grab Morgan’s phone and look through the contacts before pressing call “Garcia, I need you to look up something for me,” the urgency was clear in your voice.

“You are not my chocolate thunder but speak and you'll be heard” Garcia responded, always upbeat even when the stakes were high.

“Evan Grayson. I need everything you can find on him—parole status, criminal record, anything recent,” you said, pacing the room as your mind spun with connections you were still piecing together.

"Got it! Give me a second, I’ll dig into the system,” Garcia said, her voice clicking into business mode. A few moments of silence passed, you hear some rustling outside but ignore it, before she spoke again, her tone more focused. “Okay, here we go. Evan Grayson, 27, convicted of vehicular manslaughter five years ago. Served three years, got released early on good behavior.”

“Garcia, they guy murdered almost an entire family five years ago, the only one left was the father Larry Finch, he’s our unsub, he’s been using the words of trial for the notes!” you said, your voice tight. “We need to localize him and inform the rest of the team that-.”

Before you could finish, a scuffle echoed from down the hallway, followed by a muffled shout that cut through the silence of the building. Morgan’s voice calling your name with an edge of panic. Garcia’s voice asking what was going on felt far.

You bolted toward the sound, heart pounding in your chest. The door to your office was ajar, and you caught sight of Morgan wrestling with someone, a blur of motion. The other figure was struggling, trying to break free, but Morgan’s grip was like steel.

"Get down!" Morgan barked, his voice gruff with exertion.

Your eyes widened as you recognized the man, Larry Finch, the very person whose family had been torn apart in the accident. He was here. Right here. In your office. Probably looking for you.

Your mind raced, trying to process the situation, but Morgan didn’t give you time to think. He quickly subdued Larry, pinning him to the ground with the precision only years of training could provide. The fight drained from Larry’s body as Morgan cuffed him, his breath coming in ragged gasps with his gaze towards the officers that were running towards him.

His words pierced the air, heavy with accusation. “You promised me he would never get out! You failed me! All of you failed me!” Larry’s voice was raw, full of grief and rage. This wasn’t the grieving father you’d met 5 years ago, this was a man hollowed out by loss, filled with nothing but rage and betrayal. His words struck deep because he wasn’t wrong, you understood profusely the feelings and you had failed him somehow and maybe if you had known about Evan Grayson getting out you could’ve done something. Those eyes full of hurt and betrayal were locked on you as they pulled him away, Morgan´s concerned gaze on your figure frozen behind the door of your office, with your hands still clenching the statement.

He went to put a hand on your shoulder to comfort you “Wanna step outside for some air?” he offers. You shake your head, moving on to the next task, locking your feelings away “i’ll meet you outside, I just… I need to do something real quick.”. He hesitates but nods and leaves you alone giving your shoulder a brief squeeze as you walk back to your desk, focused on the pace of your breaths and working on keeping them even. You see Morgan’s phone screen with a message from Garcia “i heard noises and called for backup”

So everyone was downstairs. Everyone including Reid. Reid. Dilaudid. Your fault. Anger.

You exhaled slowly, willing yourself to stay in control and not destroy or throw anything that was at your reach, you grab the black desk phone, speed dialing 9 without even looking. When a calming “Hello?” sounds in the other line you breathe deep again, the grip on the phone getting tighter, you close your eyes, steadying yourself as you grab a pen and paper with shaking hands.

“Dr. Fitzgerald i… i need your help”

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You step outside just as JJ and Reid emerge from a black SUV. JJ barely spares a glance before rushing toward Morgan, Prentiss, and Hotch, but Reid stops. His gaze lands on you, then drifts lower to the satchel slung across your body. His satchel.

Your breath catches for half a second, but you don’t give him the chance. Before he can take a step in your direction, you move first. Quick, deliberate. You make your way to another SUV, open the backseat, and set the bag inside without so much as a glance in his direction. Then, with Larry’s file gripped tight in your hand, you head straight for the team.

You don’t look at him. You can’t.

But it doesn’t stop you from feeling the weight of his stare. From sensing the way he lingers, trying to find a moment, an opening, to talk to you alone. You know exactly how that conversation will go, how the fury and frustration bubbling under your skin will erupt the second he speaks. If he tries, you will yell. And you don’t trust yourself to stop.

So, instead, you focus. You lay out what you’ve found to the rest of the team members, flipping through the notes, explaining the connections, your voice steady despite the storm inside you, trusting that he’ll have the decency to not approach you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch movement. Reid. He’s walking toward another SUV, the leather bag, your leather bag, slipping from his shoulder as he places it inside without hesitation.

He caught on.

You force yourself to keep talking, to keep your focus on the case, but inside, you're torn. Part of you wants to be grateful that he understood, that he’s playing along. Another part of you hates that he did.

Because it means he knows. And that’s almost worse.

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You watched the chessboard, considering the game’s progress. The case was wrapped up, but you still had some files and reports to gather. More than that, you liked talking to the team, there was something about the spirit of family among them that you hadn’t expected. It was a strange feeling, one that tugged at you.

“Would you like to play?” you heard someone ask you, making you turn around to see Agent Gideon, speaking of “family”, you had noticed how he acted like a mentor or father to Reid, maybe he was. You knew fathers weren't perfect, you guess that extended to figurative ones too, but how could someone so proud of playing that role ignore something as obvious as Reid’s addiction? No help, no support. Did he even know what it was like to battle something like that? did he even know what it was like having an addiction? did he know Reid has one?

“Yes” you answer to him, chess has always played an important part in your life, a way out, literally and metaphorically, a board of 46 squares and more possible moves than the amount of atoms in the universe, a regulated and controlled space, where you had all the control.

You both sat at opposite sides of the board, rearranging the pieces. “Black or white?” he asked. “I'm fine with either”. You didn't believe in luck or coincidences, so when he grabbed both queens and made you pick, drawing black, you didn't think much of it. Mathematically you were at a disadvantage, when two machines play chess, black always loses. But you’d gone through enough to know better than to give up on a weak starting position.

So move after move, you weren't playing to win really, and judging his moves he wasn't either, you can tell a lot from someone's way to play chess. “It's nice to play against someone new you know?”. Gideon glanced for a second at Reid with a brief smile. That made you doubt your next move, because your rage has always made you freeze for a second and erratic the next. How could he?. Yes, you have been avoiding Reid at all costs. No, you didn't know if he and Dr. Fitzgerald had talked. You had helped him in the best way you could've possibly found fighting to not panic too much.

So you hummed in response, letting the wheels in your head turn as you shifted your strategy, so when you started playing to win, the game was too advance for him to do a proper counter attack.

“Checkmate” a smile appeared on your face, the same one when you knew the inmate was going to get convicted, when your closing statement had convinced the jury. When someone underestimated you.

Gideon tilted his head, eyebrows raised, lips pursed. He glanced between you and the board. “Didn’t see that one coming,”

With your fingers still resting lightly on the queen, you paused for a second. “Yeah there's a lot of things you either don't see or choose to ignore, Agent Gideon” your piercing stare and a cool voice, heavy with the weight of frustration.

Gideon’s smile faltered, and for the first time, his eyes showed something more than just the calm resolve he always projected. Your words had hit the mark. He knew it wasn’t just about chess.

You had outplayed him, just as you had outplayed the situation. And just as you had done with Reid, by realizing and taking action, something that clearly no one else had.

After talking to Hotch, reports in hand, as you walked out of the Headquarters and stumble upon Morgan, who gives you a warm and friendly smile as he says hi.

"Hey umm.. I wasn't really able to thanked you the other night after you saved my life, I truly thought it was just a cleaning lady" It felt so shameful how unaware you had been at the danger that night because of your meltdown.

He moves his hand as it was nothing. "Hey I'm just glad I decided to go with you instead of waiting in the car"

Reaching for one of your presentation cards, neatly saved in your new black leather bag, holding it between your index and middle finger to him "Well... I still own a big one. So if you ever need legal help or anything else, don't hesitate to reach for me"

He takes it nodding and reads it out loud your full name with a funny pace "I'll hold on to that one Miss A.D.A. Woodvale".

You laugh at his way to pronounce it, feeling too formal for the moment "Please just.. call me Woody"

He chuckles "Wait like the Toy Story character?"

You chuckled too "Yeah it's uhh.. dumb name but.." you shrug as a friendly smile paints your face as you realize you had made a new friend which was weird for you but felt oddly satisfying as you said your goodbyes and walked in opposite's directions.

Your thoughts wandered to Spencer, against your better judgment, they always did recently. It was infuritating the fact that your mind always went back around him, you couldn’t quite say why exactly, because if you would've have never found out what you did, he would've have stayed as the rude and annoying agent you met once.

But then you remembered the other side of him—the trembling hands, the lost stares, the outburst, the bottles you found in his bag. You couldn’t unsee it, couldn’t separate him from the shadow of his addiction. And it broke something inside you, because you knew what that darkness looked like, how it devoured people whole.

You wanted to reach for him, to offer more than the cold anger and frustration you’d shown, but you were too afraid. Afraid of what it might mean for both of you if he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, fight his way out. Afraid that you would fall too, trying to save someone.

You hoped he would get help. You prayed to gods you didn't even believe in for it. You knew all too well what it felt like to be trapped in that cycle, in your body. You couldn’t bear the thought of him staying there, lost.

And so you walked away, keeping your distance, even though a part of you that you didn’t understood ached to stay.

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part II Feedback feeds motivation! Likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated <3