#I would also kill to have these scenes platonically

[zutaranation]

Talking about The Search with some moots on twitter, got me thinking some really interesting potentials.

It’s in character that Zuko would forgive Ursa for forgetting him and want what’s best for her and intellectually understand why she did what she did, but I think emotionally, beneath the surface, he would feel deep pain at that.

Ikem and Kiyi’s existence clog up the plot. It’s too many cooks in the kitchen. Dont get me wrong, Ikem is a fine dude, he seems chill, and I love the dadko moments that come from Kiyi, but it’s too much going on directly linked to the main cast’s lives. That’s why it’ll never be addressed, which feels cheap and makes the reader feel cheated. Like Zuko has a STEPDAD now?! That should be a huge plot and discussion, but it’s not. It’s glossed over. There’s too many characters.

The whole gaang could’ve looked at Zuko, remembered what Ozai looked like, and laughed at him for thinking Ikem was his bio dad. That made no fucking sense. Sadly for Zuko, he’s the spitting image of Ozai. I could see Zuko being in denial, but Aang should’ve laughed at him tbfh.

Like Kiyi and Ikem wouldn’t come up in a gaang adult movie they’d be forgotten and that’s why they shouldn’t have existed.

Kiyi also just feels like some weird bandaid consolation prize for Zuko to toss Azula aside ??? It’s weird idk.

Like why are Ursa’s parents presumably dead? They easily could’ve been alive 💀 Ursa should’ve been vibing with them and zuko meets normal grandparents that were hidden from him for years … it feels less cluttering of a story than making up Ikem and Kiyi and then you would just presume the grandparents are old and rickety and have to hang back in Hira’a most of the time so it’s not like bugging your mind with questions and adding more unaddressed storylines!

I’m okay with the Ursa forgetting her kids plot. I do think it makes her shitty, but I’m okay with the tragedy of it and her being kinda a shitty mom.

Ikem is low key a freak for helping Ursa forget her memories then settling down with her like NOTHING HAPPENED

I wish that Ozai and Ursa once had feelings for each other and he slipped into “madness” in an “absolute power corrupts absolutely” kinda way. It’s more interesting than “he’s always an evil big bad gonna tie you to the train tracks” vibe and eliminates the need for stupid ass Ikem. I remember Bryke mentioning this once too in some old ass trivia bit or something for “Zuko Alone”.

The worst part about The Search is the glossing over the emotional scenes. What readers had wanted for years so badly was the emotional payoff of either Zuko facing his mother was dead, or actually seeing them reunite. Also— the most emotional— Ursa reacting to Zuko’s scar is entirely skipped. It sucks.

Not letting Zuko and Katara have a single conversation when Sokka and Zuko do and Aang and Zuko do is insane. Katara had so much to feel and bond and hurt over Zuko with (yes platonically in this case I’m not that in denial @ antis). It sucks so bad they cut this entirely for shipping bs hatred because BRYKE are 6 years old emotionally.

This would’ve been a much better and emotionally charged story on screen. It was really cheated by being done on a limited page comic. It needed more time, voice acting and music.

It’s implied heavily, as many of us always assumed, that Ursa was SA’d.

If zutara was canon, I think Katara would be furious at Ursa and it would be an interesting conversation and story. Maybe I’ll write that fic

Regardless of these many flaws, the story is much more in character than The Promise or Smoke & Shadow. I hate those comics so bad for making the theme let’s all kill Zuko and be nonchalant if he dies! And making it so that it’s like he never had a found family and still no one loved him and also the weird submissiveness they gave to Katara and the retconning of everything and the repetition and recycling of plots and it all is so bad… 💀😭

What thoughts do yall have? Happy to discuss 👀

[bedtimegiraffe]

My personal ranking of the the LI's reactions to the upcoming battle

I know I would be a damn mess about all the near-death experiences and want to talk about it. So I've ranked all of our love interests by how well I think they handled your character's obvious trauma!

Starting with the worst...

Pros: Mal, I appreciate that you don't want me to die and want to protect me.

Cons: My guy. My actual primary love interest. I get that you're depressed. I appreciate the honesty. But this is just more pressure! Now I'm responsible for both of our lives!

Pros: Aerin, it's nice that you're not also freaking out. Not about this anyway. That is reassuring. Fighting for the people we care about and each other are strong motivations I can get behind.

Cons: You do not at any point ask if I'm okay. Maybe you don't realize how bad things have been, or you feel like you have no right to ask. And I also don't love 'we might all die tomorrow' coming out mid-make out and immediately before asking if we should take things further. You can just make the offer! Don't act like you wouldn't be into it regardless!

Pros: Valax, I appreciate that you want me to fight back against you. The fact that you wish things were different makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. There are some big obstacles here and I acknowledge that. And you apologize for causing some of the trauma!

Cons: I don't love the energy that we can't figure out a solution. I get that you're very stuck in one way of thinking, but this seems like a great moment to figure something out other than 'We'll wait and see which one of us dies.'

Pros: Nia, I'm very glad you don't want to lose me. And I appreciate the acknowledgment that something might actually manage to kill me this time. I'm perfectly happy be scared together.

Cons: This scene is mostly about making her feel better. Which is fine, a lot of them are. And it's partially MC's fault for not having an option to say, "I'm scared too." But not my favorite.

Pros: Tyril, this is some solid reassurance. You'll be there with me. I'll gladly take that as comfort. Just being with me is probably the best thing to do. It's very practical and in-character.

Cons: I'm slightly confused how you thought armies worked prior to this, but we can get into that another day. As always, you could stand to ask about my feelings more.

Pros: Imtura, I love you. I am so enamored with the way you acknowledge that we could die while not being worried about it. Incredibly reassuring once we get into it.

Cons: You're not in a place to be 100% supportive because you've got your own stuff. But that's life! Overall, excellent work.

Screenshots for illustration purposes taken from Neckrone Shen's very good 4 parallel playthroughs of Blades on youtube. Because these games are so dang hard to replay when I have an idea. I hope using screenshots of someone's posted playthrough is acceptable? Tell me if it's not!

[faeryarchives]

hey chat! (first years x gn! streamer reader!)

summary: random but cutesy moments with your bf and brother ortho while being on air warning: modern au! fluff just fluff and rusty writing 🙂‍↕️ characters: twst nrc first years notes: platonic/familial section for ortho (you being the shroud's sibling) !! recently read some streamer au and it made me yearn and now im dragging you guys with me 😁 + longest one i've written ...

check out the art made by our lovley marj 🤍

divider credit goes to @cafekitsune !! her dividers are rlly cute check it out 🤍

✧.* ace trappola

being a streamer with a clingy boyfriend is really interesting

you are a pretty well known streamer mainly focusing on rpg games and movie reviews

and you also have a pretty good fanbase - they are pretty chill, encouraging and welcoming to newcomers especially in chat (maybe the chat do reflect the streamer)

they are pretty used to the times where you would start your stream with ace in the camera view sitting next to you

the loading screen finally disappeared revealing you on screen waving at the camera. "heya (fandom name) and non-(fandom name), welcome to the stream!" a laugh escaped your lips as the chat start to flood greetings, some were spamming hearts, some are getting creative with their comments and only one stood out to you. (name)clips: our favorite most beautiful wonderful (name) i hope you had a good day! please beware of red haired rats nowadays! and oh hi ace, i guess "oh you are worried for me? sure thing, i will look out for red haired rats, right babe?" "not you again (name)clips, i know you love my partner but they would pick me over you at any day!"

while they always joke around with you and ace, you `can see how they adore your boyfriend as much as they adore you

creates compilation of you and ace during your streams + ace is a regular watcher of your fandom clip channel

@ (name)clips uploaded a new video: when (name) is going crazy but their boyfriend is crazier @ thebestace: @ (username) SEE I TOLD YOU THAT U MISSED THAT ONE SPOT @ (username): i am kicking you out of our minecraft house 😡 NAWT MY FAULT YOU SAID LETS NOT CHECK THAT ANYMORE?

and he sees it all and leave comments (very supportive bf real)

especially when the two of you do streams together specifically horror based games and movie review

"(NAME) WHERE ARE YOU?!" while trying to escape the monster in front of you, ace's character suddenly blurred in and bumped into you. his screams echoing through your headphones. "ace i am literally in front of your character- why are you closing your eyes?!" "I DON'T KNOW WHERE TO LOOK!" "just move to the sid-" before you two could move out of the way, the monster grabbed ace's character and killed him along with his screams leaving you to run away from the scene. "i will live for the both of us!" ilikepringles: LMAO NOT THE CUT OFF SCREAM?! deuce spade 🔧: wow what a normal horror game day with these two cowabunga: never heard someone hit that note so high gloomurai 🔧: what a diva trying to salvage your gameplay (you both didn't save before the encounter), you didn't notice how the door to your room opened only for ace to lean to lean on your side while burying his head into your shoulder. and as if your body was on automatic mode, you leaned your head next to him and hummed. "i hate you." "i love you too, do you want me to finish this game?" "mmmm, we could play it another time with more people..." a dangerous glint appeared in your eyes with both of you letting out evil giggles. epel felmier 🔧: just got chills running down my spine should i be scared (name) (last name) 🔧: oh yes you should be

✧.* deuce spade

now before you even start your streaming life, deuce was the one who helped you with setting up and with the computer troubleshooting

that is why when you experience trouble during your stream, chat would typically expect him to come in your room with snacks for both of you while he fix your computer

while deuce is more on hands on, this man doesn't really understand most of the slangs your chat use that's why sometimes you include him in reading your fandom tweets

"this is a surprise video but we are going to read some of your tweets under my hashtags! and by i meant we, my boyfriend is going to join our stream today!" not even a minute in of scanning through the compilation of your fandom tweets about you, deuce looks so confused. "from @ ieattoes, not gonna lie, i would let mx. (name) (last name) to break my back like a glow stick. i'll stay on my knees for them." the man looked spaced out for a moment before looking directly at the camera with the most worried look you had ever seen. "... first of all, i don't know if i should be concerned with your username or the tweet. second, what the fuc-" "okay, next one!"

deuce is also one of your moderators! and let me tell you how he is so strict with people breaking the rules ESPECIALLY if there were mean comments about you on your chat

while he do want to uphold his running for honors persona, people disrespecting you, your viewers and friends is a different thing

randomuserjvsd: why did they just passed through that chest? its one of the most important things to do in the game? rebeccabot: aren't you that one streamer accused of hacking? fgsvklvbdhsv: LMAO SHIT GAMEPLAY WATCH (name) DRAMA CHANNEL INSTEAD it was a norm for you to receive such comments but who cares? your community knows you well and you know you did nothing wrong but to play the game. "hi to my favorite haters, thank you for viewing my stream! i don't know about you but tuning in live helps me makes money so..." through out the game, you notice how one by one those channel start disappearing in the chat, peaking your interests. "oh my, that is interesting." one and only ace 🔧: LMAO ONE TAP DEUCE STRIKES AGAIN deuce spade🔧: don't worry love, just continue your stream 😊

deuce's mom, dylla, knows about your hobby and fully supports you with it! even sending you some gifts to try on stream and promote them

pretty sure deuce and his mom are one of your biggest supporters in the fan base really - like mother like son (they are leading the fan war whenever someone drags you into a mess)

he knows he is not much of a gamer but man will go lengths for you in the game

(name) (lastname) @(username) guys 🥹 my bf went through multiple domain runs to build his characters and help me with the boss and explore the new areas in fontaine + liyue 🥹 (he suck at playing games) even in star rail so he could understand what i yap about 🥹 879 replies 11.5k retweets 1.2k quotes 90k likes @ thebestace - if my man isn't like this then i eon't want hiim @ (username) - GAY SPOTTED IN REPLIES?!?!?! @ cddiamond - HAPPY PRIDE 🌈🏳️‍🌈 @ jamilviper - congratulations @ spadecued - hey i don't suck that much at games :( @ (username) - remember how you died to a ruin hunter @ spadecued - that was when i start playing the game ??

✧.* jack howl

"... since we ended the game late and some of you don't want to leave yet, why don't we have a quick chat?" while you are having a small talk with your viewers after finishing your nth game run, your chat start to flood the stream at a fast pace ji9star: are my eyes playing me or something just passed through (name's) door? lightray: and it's 3am too... kreideprinz: how can you guys see a shadow when their hallway is so dark? "shadow?" curious, the viewers could only watch as you stood up and peeked out of your room. for a moment, you looked shocked and honestly the chat couldn't do anything anyways but what surprised them when that same shadow patted your head and urged you back inside. https.(name): A HAND?!?!?! (name)luvr: that is actually me scaratoes: stop the delusions ruggie bucchi 🔧: woah a mystery someone 🤭 "don't worry guys, it not a bad ghost. its a friendly neighborhood one! ace can prove it, right?"

being very open and active in your social media account, your viewers didn't expect you to be in a relationship!

sure as the kind of person who is hands on in academics and games, they didn't think you would still have time for a special someone!

its not like they are mad - they are happy !! but more like curious on who is the mystery guy!

"who is the mystery guy?" you stopped in your tracks to look at someone off camera and laughed, not wanting to spill the beans so early. the view count did increased once you reach out of the camera view only to show to the camera that you are holding someone's hand. cater diamond 🔧: oh you crazy 😭 "there is no fun if our mystery person got revealed so early, so why don't we start a game?"

in no time #friendlyneighborhoodghost start trending on twitter (not calling that app as X) - speculations about the mystery person

(name) (lastname) @(username) you guys are funny 😂 how are you so wrong about it? good luck guessing because he is also having fun with all your tweets 🤭 who knows he might be your mutual 1k replies 23.5k retweets 3.5k quotes 400k likes @ (name)clips - HOLY SHHIT WE GOT A CLUE ITS A GUY SPREAD THE WORD! @ (name)luvr - i am that mutual @ https.(name) - sweetie we support you but not with this one @ azulstan - no wait what if oomf is cooking something @ leonakingscholar - how are you two such trolls @ (name)bf 🔒 - whatever they say goes 🫡 @ jackloml 🔒 - ily 😘

its not helping them at all when you laugh at each speculations, because some of them were actually crazy

as if to add insult to injury, the mystery guy would come in your stream fully clothed and would randomly hug you from behind, - his face would always be out of camera's view and you made sure of that

it went on for months and finally, something happened

"... i don't think that was the best ending of the game, we could've save some playable character-" before finishing your insight on the game's ending, jack entered your room, his earphones on and probably just got home from training, not noticing how you were still on stream. "hey love, i am going to cook for our dinner, do you want anything?" at first there was silence, not noticing how you just froze in place and looking at him in shock. jack felt there was something wrong and finally removed his earphone, realizing that you were unmuted and your viewers probably heard it on live. "...oh." livelaughlove(name): THEY BAGGED THE ATHLETE?! jackstan: this is the best day of my life my two fave are together 😭 one and only ace🔧: LMFAO U STUPID ruggie bucchi 🔧: U HAD ONE JOB 😭 now i have to pay leona $20 thee leona kingscholar 🔧: hah told you i'm right "guess the secret is out now, finally!" you rolled your chair away from your chair to come your boyfriend and hug him from behind - proudly showing him on screen. "so yeah, this is our friendly neighborhood ghost! you guys may know him as the athlete but he is pretty active in the fandom too, right?" "i'm not subtle about being yours too, its not my fault no one believes me." scanning through his phone, jack showed a particular twitter account that sent the chat through more frenzy. white beast @(name)luvr told you guys i'm the real deal. love you @ (username) 259 replies 2k retweets 1.5k quotes 50k likes @ (username) - love u too 🤍 @ https.(name) - IT WAS REAL THE ENTIRE TIME? @ (username) - told you guys he was among you 😝

✧.* epel felmier

it was funny how you two first met because it was just on pure accident that you got to team up in a random 5 man team

and the two of you carried your team leading to more duo team up with each other

turns out you have a lot in common too, what a strange coincidence!

and now you live together 🥂

"how did you and epel got together? oh that's such a good question!" you twirled your gaming chair around - huge grin apparent with a mischievous glint in your eyes hayikeva: not the scary vibes all of the sudden 😭 jiminijipity: they were so waiting for this moment to come kandii783: LMAO ON THE OTHER STREAM EPEL JUST GOT SHIVERS "so funny thing! you guys already know how we met through valo and we got to know each other more through discord and collaborations with other streamers. while we only play fps and rpg games on stream, we play some game specifically for two players only!" epel felmier 🔧: ??? epel felmier 🔧: what r u talking abt epel felmier 🔧: R U BACKSTABBING ME?! bokuaka4ever: WHO CALLED HIS ASS HERE? (name)#1fan: what kind of games were you two playing? "oh hi epel, no i am not backstabbing you, it's the opposite - i am sharing how we got to know love! why don't you guys guess what kind of games we play?" teresita: roblox? randomuserh: GEOGUESSER epel felmier 🔧: get that away from me "don't mind him, we almost ruined our relationship fighting about the capital of australia." rook hunt 🔧: I KNOW THE ANSWER!! epel felmier 🔧: what are YOU doing here?! leona kingscholar 🔧: its not like it was a secret, it was obvious afterall mwishxr: WHOA THEE LEONA SPEAKS "hush you two don't spoil the surprise!" as the two streamers appeared on chat, more and more people start to appear too, mostly the familiar ones. ace trappola 🔧: real i have to agree w leona on this one ruggie bucchi 🔧: (2) deuce spade 🔧: (3) jack howl 🔧: wow this is surprising sukisuki: IJBOL DID THE WHOLE GANG TUNED IN TO EXPOSE EPEL? yuriified: this is the real power of friendship epel felmier 🔧: this is not friendship this is BULLYING "alright, i guess if he won't tell then i will - we often play sky: children of light. we play other games like minecraft or stardew valley but epel in this game is so amazing because he is guiding me throughout the game and everything." epel felmier 🔧: ihy 😡 epel felmier 🔧: i am taking tubby with me 😡 sleep outside tonight "wait. no, okay i'm ending the stream" and you really did end the stream on the spot

you apologized with tears that night (no not really)

both of your fandoms know about tubby - your adopted dog/child and he will witness his parents (mostly epel) screaming at random people in game to the point that he will bark along side your screams

but sometimes u have your off days too so there were times where you might have bad game plays -> getting trashtalked by your random teammates

as soon as you peeked at the corner, your character suddenly fell down after getting headshot by the enemy team. frustrated, you let out a groan before burring your head into the pillow next to you. "(nickname) do you wan to take a break?" "no i can still go for one game, i'm really sorry epel. after i told you we would rank up..." "it's oka-... what the fuck?" surprised at the sudden change in attitude and the sound of your boyfriend's furious typing ringing in your ears, you automatically looked at the team chat realizing why he suddenly became mad. randomnamehere: wtf if you are going to troll can you not do it here? randomnamehere: so much so for being a (username) fake randomnamehere2: that is so embarrassing get your ass off rank noob (username): have u seen your stats, been covering for your skill issue the whole game "if i wasn't a streamer, i would've talked back about his ass gaming very much." applelppa: why don't you get your ass off that pc and touch grass and have a touch with nature bc YOU TWO ARE THE ONES WITH THE MOST DEATHS?! **applelppa has been muted for 24 hours** "love, you got muted again..." "COWARDS I TELL YOU! YOUR MOM WILL NEVER BE PROUD OF YOU!" "epel-" "WHY DON'T YOU *BEEP* Y-" "BRO, WAIT CALM DOWN! I AM ON LIVE!"

✧.* ortho shroud

this little guy is a regular at your stream no doubt it!

it would be more surprising not to see ortho in one of your streams rather than being in it

ortho would entertain your viewers while you go try to tell idia to tone his screaming down (real)

"okay so do you think i should change furina's artifact or not?" leaning over your shoulder, your brother took a closer look humming, analyzing everything then shaking his head. "no, your build is actually perfect, i think you should focus more on-" "AHHHH I HATE THIS GAME!" a loud scream followed by a loud thud from the room above you cause a thousand of laughing emoji to roll in the chat. jiminijipity: lolololololo mamasita: the eldest sibling is back at it again lolololol ace trappola 🔧: did idia just died or something jamil viper 🔧: as someone who plays league, he is pretty relatable... "... not this again, ortho keep them entertained for me will you?" with annod, you left the room running and ortho casually twirling around his chair, waving excitedly at the camera. "hello everyone! how are you all doing?" orthofanreal: HI ORTHO petuniaaaa: hello ortho how are YOU doing? skibidirdir: its a miracle your neighbors haven't filed a complaint with how noisy your sibling gets in playing games "we are sure noisy, but the truth is we don't actually have any neighbors, it gets pretty lonely here at times." in the viewer's eyes, they can see ortho looking out of your window longingly before shrugging what ever was clouding his mind and smiled. "you guys might already know that our parents are really busy leaving us three to stick together most of the time. and i am glad that (name) and big brother idia would include me in their livestream so i won't feel lonely." https.shroudsiblings: oh no... who is chopping the onions :( jack howl 🔧: you know you can come over here evey once in a while right? yuu 🔧: ORTHOOOO 🙁 there were several crying emoji flooding in as well as the sound of someone crying behind him. the youngest shroud turned around to see his older siblings at the door way, holding in their tears - obviously hearing what he just said. "since when did you guys got here?" "*sniff* okay fuck league and genshin we are going to play mario kart."

it may come as a surprise but ortho is actually the best player out of the three of you

ortho being first followed by idia and you at dead last 😅

but hey who cares if you are last?! you could even play the most boring game ever but ortho will always make it like its made for fun

sometimes you would try to entice ortho with his favorite food just to turn on idia on voting what to play on game and movie night

(name) (lastname) @(username) i love my siblings very much (don't mind the ugly one at the right) 459 replies 2.5k retweets 1.1k quotes 40k likes @ orthoshroud: but isn't that big brother idia on the right? @ (username): exactly 🥰 dont mind him at all our youngest 🤍 @ randomuser: loolololol agreed @ (username): @ randomuser shut the fuck up only i can insult idia @ gloomrai: I SEE HOW IT IS I AM TELLING MOM @ mrsshroud: yeah about that idy... @ (username): IJBOL

✧.* sebek zigvolt

and if i speak - this man will get everything just to support you

and i mean everything: your channel subscription, merch, plushie, photo cards that he made and he will still support you by sending donations + gifting subs to your fandom

sebek is very proud of you real! he is very vocal about it and he really feels giddy when you invite him to your streams

(name) (lastname) @(username) okay new waiting room for you all <3 and donations are still off so it's a sign for y'all to save money I AM LOOKING AT YOU MISTER @ wanisama 😾 (insert twitch link) 233 replies 1.5k retweets 900 quotes 20k likes @ gloomrai: to those non (fandom name) its like putting a kpop stan on merch ban for their fave artist @ lilredbat: and i was about to sen you some too @ (username): SO YOU ARE THE ONE INFLUENCING HIM 🫵 @ wanisama: :( @ (username): oh don't you go all sad on me now mister YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH 😾

but it won't be too long until he would do it again - just like a routine 😭 that is just how he shows his love okay

other than that, sebek is a pretty cuddly person and pretty much let you do what you want

while you were streaming, you suddenly faced the man with your arms wide out. "sebek babe, come here." before his mind could even process anything, his body moved on his own and quickly wrapped his arms around you. even giving you a a kiss on the head. "what's wrong?" "hehe, nothing. can you sit next to me? we just finished playing." "sure, do you want me to get some snacks?" you cuddled each other, him wrapping you into his hoodie, until you finally finished the stream.

its funny how your viewers would comment on how you are endorsing more of sebek's hoodie rather than your own merch 😭

with your relationship being out in the open, it's no surprise that both of you would shoot some videos and post stories on instagram like cooking and this is where they realize sebek is more like a boyfailure disaster than the one they see on live

"sebek?" "...yes?" "... can you tell me what are you doing right now?" in the video, sebek was trying to hide something behind him, ribbons and papers scattered around his feet. sebek avoided your gaze, hand flailing in the air. "i-i thought you were streaming?" the more you step forwards the more he tried o hide that certain thing behind him "yeah but it got delayed because the game had a sudden maintenace... oh my god is that the one i wanted to buy the other day-" "OH MY MY PHONE JUST STARTED RINGING, I THINK WAKA-SAMA IS CALLING FOR ME. FAREWELL MY LOVE."

yeaaa and don't get him with the q and a because he has a one track mind if there are questions regarding about you

i think he knows you more more than yourself

sometimes though sebek would join his friends' games and content involving everyone asking each other questions and such (like 2 truths one false or a batsu game).

"okay, my turn!" after ace spin the bottle, it landed on sebek who looks like he was about to say something that would change the world. "ah, it's sebek. now this is hard." "give me your worst, trappola." the green haired man challenged, knowing he will emerge as the victor (man vs himself). "alright! if you could kiss anyone in the world without consequences, who would it be?" "easy, my wonderful partner (name) (last name)." "that shit don't count, you do that anyways!" "@ (username) in every social media platform." riddle rosehearts 🔧: never let ace interrogate anybody (name) (last name) 🔧: AWWW BABE <333 I LOVE YOU TOO (name) (last name) 🔧: and ace open up i'm at your door 😃😊

[milksnake-tea]

━━ star-shaped .

War was never pretty. Death comes for both enemy and ally, and even as a healer, you cannot save everyone. Wearied by the war that seems to drag on for years, with no victory in sight, you join Jiaoqiu at the campfire for a rare moment of peace.

jiaoqiu x gn!reader

contains: based on leaks abt jiaoqiu's character stories !! but honestly its kinda implied in the quest but idk. has death, war, depictions of injuries and diseases, things are rough, can be read as platonic or romantic !!

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i love this man and his potential because goddamn war stories??? in my hsr??? sign me UP. also this was inspired by The Things They Carried by Tim Burton that i was forced to read in highschool. i loved the soldier death scene in that book so YEAH

taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven @camellia-rabbit , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace

The man you killed had two eyes; one was closed, and the other a star-shaped hole.

You wake when the sky is still dark and the sun bathes the other side of the planet. Harsh winds beat unrelentlessly at the tent’s folds, and hail pelts at the sturdy fabric.

Some of your comrades, fellow healers, sleep soundly as they can on the battlefield, while others work tirelessly in the makeshift hospital next tent over, keeping an eye on injured and diseased soldiers’ conditions.

Fire crackles outside. The sound is sharp, yet barely audible over the snow storm.

With a sigh, you pull your sheets off of you and as quietly as possible, make your way outside the tent. You aren’t going to get much sleep anyway - you might as well do something useful.

The man you killed resurfaces in your mind. He had two eyes - one closed, the other a star-shaped hole.

You pull your fur-lined coat closer around you as you step out into the camp. Snow crunches under your boots and you have to hold your hood in place to shield yourself from the hail.

To say that this planet is freezing would be an understatement. Here, the cold chilled you from your bones to your skin, seeping into your veins and leaving icicles in its wake. Frostbite was an everyday occurrence here; you’ve had to amputate more toes and fingers than ever in your life.

A silhouette sits before the fire, their back turned to you. As you get closer, you make out tall, Foxian ears and the same winter coat you’re currently wearing.

“Jiao?” you wrinkle your nose as you near, suddenly slammed with the strong scent of chili. Your comrade acknowledges you with a brief flick of the ears, but nothing more.

You don’t blame him. This war has been a harsh one, with less soldiers returning to camp every time they’re sent out. Unknown territory and harsh weather conditions made the battles long and exhausting, and healers could only do so much.

Not to mention, time passed so quickly yet so slowly here. You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve been stationed, but it feels like several lifetimes.

Everyone is tired. You can see it in the hollowed cheeks, the eyes that have grown numb to death, and the despondent numbness that has overtaken the camp. They no longer cared who won or who lost. All they wanted was to return home in one piece.

The man you killed had two eyes. One was closed, and the other was a star-shaped hole.

You sit down next to Jiaoqiu on the log. The Foxian makes no move to push you off, only shifting to the side to help make room for you. Hugging your knees to your chest, you stare blankly at the drifting embers that dance in the air.

Jiaoqiu absentmindedly stirs at his soup. It boils in a small pot just above the fire, the thin liquid a red so bright it’d be threatening… if you had the energy to be threatened.

“It’s late,” you say into the crisp silence. “You should get some sleep before the sun rises. You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

Even as the words leave your mouth, you know it’s pointless. In war, sleep is something you have to force your body into. You have to lie down in the tents, look up at the fabric sky and listen to the hustle and bustle outside as soldiers are carried in and out, and close your eyes to the screams as yet another frostbitten knight has their arm cut off. You have to put yourself first, even for that small second, and allow yourself rest while your comrades fight on the front lines.

Sleep is a luxury that no one can afford. It is an escape. It is shameful.

And from the looks of Jiaoqiu’s darkened eye bags and mindless stirring, it’s a sin he won’t be partaking in tonight.

And neither will you.

Your gaze falls to the small bag of spices lying next to Jiaoqiu on the long. You can see peppercorns, cloves, fennel, cinnamon, and… star anise.

You look away.

The man you killed had two eyes. One was closed.

“How are you faring?” Jiaoqiu finally speaks. He doesn’t look at you and keeps his eyes on the flame.

Another gust of wind runs through you.

“As well as anyone else is, I suppose.”

Jiaoqiu swirls the soup with one hand. A bubble bursts and sprays the snow in little sizzling red freckles.

“How about you?” you ask.

The snow has already covered the soup’s spill by the time Jiaoqiu replies.

“As well as one can be,” he mutters. His hands, gloved with thick leather, clench once before relaxing.

A hollow chuckle leaves you. You sigh, kicking your legs out onto the snow and leaning back on the log. You look to the sky, to the cryptically beautiful cosmos. Blues, purples, and reds merge together like watercolor clouds above you, and small, white stars bejewel them.

Stars… Your gaze becomes lidded.

The man you killed had two eyes. One was a star-shaped hole.

“Do you think that man had a family?”

If Jiaoqiu was surprised at all by your question, he didn’t show it.

“Does it matter?” He takes a small taste of his soup. Despite it practically glowing in red, he doesn’t seem satisfied. “He was the enemy, need I remind you.”

You close your eyes briefly. “But I’m a healer.”

“You are.” Jiaoqiu opens his pouch and dumps in the rest of his chili rations - what for, you don’t know nor do you care to know. “You are also a soldier of the Xianzhou Yaoqing military. War always ends up in casualties, you know this. So did the soldier.”

There’s a bitterness in his tone that makes you wonder if he was talking to himself as well as to you. Your eyes soften.

“You did what you could, Jiao,” you offer. You want to put your hand on his shoulder, but you aren’t sure if that is appropriate, given the circumstances. “What happens outside the camp is beyond our control.”

Jiaoqiu sighs. His hand tightens around the ladle.

“Then what’s the point?” he whispers. His brows furrow, and his eyes open - a gem of amber reflecting years worth of grief and hopelessness. “What purpose do I have as a healer if I cannot stop my patients from hurtling towards their deaths?”

He turns to you, searching your face for any sort of answer that could satisfy him, that could reassure him that there was meaning, there was a point, that all of those bandages and surgeries and amputations weren’t for naught.

But you cannot answer him, for it is a question that no healer knows the answer to.

“You gave them another chance at life,” you say softly, unconvincingly. “That’s all that matters.”

“Even if that life is destined to end regardless of what I do?”

Dead eyes meet dull ones.

“What happens outside the camp is beyond our control,” you repeat blankly.

The man you killed had two eyes.

Jiaoqiu searches your gaze once more, before ultimately giving up. The amber of his eyes close, and he returns to the cauldron.

In a feeble attempt to console him, you go against your earlier thoughts and rest a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. But with the roughness of your gloves and the cold limiting the dexterity of your hands, it isn’t much - but it’s enough.

Jiaoqiu glances at your hand, then back at the cauldron.

“Do you feel bad?”

You blink, a bit caught off guard by the question, but you settle down soon enough.

“No,” you say after a brief pause. “He would’ve killed us if I hadn’t killed him.”

You lean forward, resting your head in your palm as you watch the flames swallow up what little tinder the others managed to collect.

“I’m just glad to be alive.” You don’t sound like you believe it.

Jiaoqiu’s ear flicks. You hear him stand up and scoop some of the soup up into his ladle, and dash out his tongue to taste it. His tail swishes, and his eyes widen momentarily, amber flashing like lightning.

A smile, a weary, tired, but grateful smile, slips onto his lips.

He turns to you, vitality returned, even if it’s just for a moment.

“Try this,” he says, holding the ladle out towards you. 

You eye it warily. The liquid drips down the sides of the ladle and drops down onto the snow below, sizzling the second red touches white. You didn’t think it was possible for the soup to get even redder, but Jiaoqiu somehow did it.

“I won’t die if I eat it, right?” you try to joke. Jiaoqiu huffs, his breath steaming in the air.

“You doubt my cooking capabilities?”

You shake your head. “No, but whatever you have in there doesn’t exactly look… edible.”

And yet you’re already leaning forward to taste his concoction. Jiaoqiu carefully holds the ladle still as you take a sip.

Instantly your senses are flooded with pure, unyielding heat. Fire blazes on your tongue, searing your throat and bringing tears to your eyes. Your stomach burns, and for the first time since you’ve come to this planet, you stop shivering.

It’s painful.

It’s exhilarating.

“It’s delicious,” you praise despite the coughs that wreck your being. “Although… did you have to add so much chili?”

Jiaoqiu hums out a laugh. “But that’s what makes it special.”

You don’t bother denying it. Instead, you laugh alongside him, eyes crinkling with joy instead of pain after years of constant war.

You’ll have to return to the war eventually. The sun is already beginning to rise, and soon the soldiers will be awakened to go out into battle once more. You’ll have to take over for your comrades who had spent the night in the hospital.

But you don’t have to do it just yet.

For now, you just want to enjoy this moment, this second of normalcy and peace in the battlefield.

The man you killed had two eyes.

One was closed.

The other was a star-shaped hole.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[lady-ashfade]

Our comfort. Pt2

Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader.

Just some more hc’s of a scenario I came up in my head!

Warnings: Short, Yandere tendencies, Platonic!!, obsession, the kids being upset. Spoilers for the beginning of the second book!!

The camp was under attack and Percy found himself, and his two friends arriving at the scene. He and the others all joined in on killing the metal beast that plagued the camp.

Percy was itching to see you again, Annebeth was also since she was always with you since she came to the camp and that summer she went with her father.

The camper’s returning had no clue of the changes in the camp. Not only from the new activity director, but from a change you had brought.

The first time Percy walked to his cabin to drop off his things, annabeth on her way to with Tyson following them, caused confusion.

A big white cabin with carvings of the same he saw in Olympus. It was beautiful. Flowers growing up the sides of it, statues placed around it and the gold accents. It was beautiful, like a new aphrodite cabin.

There was a crowd of campers surrounding the outside as two older campers stood on ladders to hang up the new flag.

“What’s happening?” Percy leaned over to his friend. She just shrugged, “I didn’t know there was anyone to add, maybe the lesser known have had children.”

Then chaos broke loose when the flag finally dropped. And the symbol made the campers gasp and rub their eyes to see if they actually saw it.

It was your symbol.

When they found you at the train grounds with some of the students that stayed there over the summer. They rushed around you and screamed for answers.

“Why is there a new cabin?” “You can’t have children!” “This isn’t far!”

Yeah yeah we all know how it goes down. The child screaming, and demanding answers. All they could do was watch you tap your foot and wait for them to quiet down like a mad mother. Once they all calmed down that decided to listen to your speak.

And everything was true. You had children and they are close to the age to coming to camp, even could come to camp now. And oh boy, they started to scream again.

Those poor children had no a clue how much they had going for them.

Some campers could wait to meet your child, and love them the way they love you. Become their protectors, surely they would be as comforting as you.

Some campers hated them. They didn’t need to met them, they wanted them gone. You had a whole camp of children to take care of but you had to go and have your own? That’s now how this should work, aren’t they enough for you? But they knew they couldn’t do much about it because once you got upset, the gods were angered.

And then, the other half. Didn’t really pick a side in it. They are willing to share, or not. What ever happened they didn’t really care since you’re still at camp.

[pomefioredove]

okay after reading all the goth hc, I gotta ask. how do you think the guys would react (any of them but preferred Floyd and Idia ) to playing them goth music/show them a trad goth outfit/makeup look (suprise them maybe? For example: I hc Leona to just have the least slay music taste to mankind (beastmankind?) so you play him- idk let’s say Lebanon Hanover, and he’s like “wtf is this herbivore?” But then he kinda gets into it. no pressure to write for it btw!

-✨♥️✨

ANON I was literally thinking about making a post like this a few days before this ask... you have my heart. I'm doing a full post

summary: nrc boys and goth type of post: headcanons characters: nrc students additional info: platonic or romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, half-headcanons half-x reader author's note: I'm assuming that goth as a subculture and a music scene already exists in this world. this post is also mostly about the music scene

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Riddle is essentially a baby bat

he's like, two bad life choices away from going full victorian goth at any given moment

he flat out refuses to listen to anything "vulgar" but secretly adores the dark, poetic side to goth

he's also morbidly obsessed with death, being a sad victorian boy and the child of two doctors. it works

as much as I hate to say it, Ace starts out as the kind of guy to say he wants a "goth gf" on multiple occasions

he proudly announces it to everyone at an unbirthday party once and Riddle almost kills him for being annoying for interrupting

thinks the music is too sad

...but he mellows out eventually (your influence)

both Deuce and Trey are not particularly interested

(Deuce leaned into punk music as a preteen but has since "given it up" because it's too unruly for an aspiring honors student, in his opinion)

Cater inexplicably already knows a lot about goth

won't talk about it unless you bring it up first but if you play him something semi-popular

he'll be like "oh yeah I know that one"

he has a few songs on his playlist he listens to when he's alone

is a goth magnet himself. pulls many hot goths. no one knows how

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jack is also not really into it. not his thing

however I can see him secretly being into emo

make of that what you will

and Ruggie will never pass you the aux again. he calls it "halloween music"

Leona acts thoroughly uninterested for a long time

like, he'll listen to the music you give him, but doesn't really say whether he likes it or not

says he doesn't care about the scene (thinks it's too pretentious)

and pretends to be annoyed when you give him more song recs

but he gets into it. he starts listening on his own

he has a definite preference for gothic rock

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jade is already goth (to me at least)

and very eager to talk about his favorite bands

loves giving recommendations

apparently the coral sea has its own goth subgenres and bands, which sound... much different from land ones

Floyd will listen (has listened, thanks to his brother) but he doesn't particularly care

he much prefers the aesthetic, it reminds him of home

...being that he's from the deep sea, where it's dark and cold

the flowy, dark, elegant looks are just enchanting to him. he can't keep his eyes off it

Azul couldn't be bothered

he's willing to learn, but isn't a huge fan of the general... strangeness

(he doesn't really understand why anyone would want to be perceived as strange in the first place)

and the music is so unmelodic to him

"that was just a man moaning and a gate creaking for seven minutes" and then he bans you from his office

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kalim literally listens to goth already

I don't know how to explain it but I know he does

it's so funny because he never ever dresses goth or acts stereotypically goth but every once in a while he'll be like "who wants to hear my new favorite song? :D" and it's like, alien sex fiend. and no one can say anything about it

Jamil is an appreciator

depending on what you show him, he could really get into the lyricism and general mood

...if only because he finds goth dancing absolutely mesmerizing

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Rook is goth

he only dresses the part sometimes, but he's always been very passionate about the poetic elements of the music

...really into french coldwave

in terms of fashion he leans romantic goth

it just makes sense to me. he could find beauty in absolutely anything, and the dark and macabre are no exception

will talk your ear off about his favorite bands if you give him the chance

Vil is really more into the style than the music

he's dabbled in a little bit of everything; trad goth, romantic goth, medieval goth. he pulls all of it off

honestly, if anything, the gothic style compliments his features and tastes more than anything

he has such a respect for the subculture and the dedication that goes into the visual elements

Epel doesn't get it. sorry 😔

he will listen to the music you recommend because he cares about you, but he just doesn't like it

he's in the same boat as Azul. "was that a slide whistle?"

absolutely baffled, but he likes you and it's a small price to pay for your happiness

(and he thinks the fashion is too androgynous for his tastes)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I feel like Idia also used to think he wanted a goth until he saw the e-girl vs goth discourse, freaked out, then spent two weeks reading about different subcultures

...still wants a goth partner

but now he actually knows what that means

will listen to any music you give him out of respect (fear) and won't say anything about whatever weird taxidermy-related hobby you have

he's surrounded by death all the time anyway who cares

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you could get Silver to listen to the cure's entire discography and he'd come out of it really enjoying just like heaven and nothing else

it's just... not for him

(plus the slower songs put him to sleep)

Malleus somehow hasn't even heard of goth as a genre when you approach him

he is. a little disappointed it's not music about the architecture style

but he still warms up to it, especially as someone who enjoys finding the beauty in the dark and misunderstood

you can fix him. you can goth him.

Sebek joins only after everyone in Diasomnia gets in on it with you (he doesn't like being left out)

he loves it because silver doesn't and malleus does

peepaw Lilia is an old goth

he was around when the music scene started, and he also remembers the literature movement it was named after, and the popular architecture style that was named after, and...

...you get it

still, he's always pleased to learn about new bands and subgenres and styles and the like

could and will talk about it for hours and hours with you

he dresses the part, too

we love him

[adverbally]

Whenever This World Is Cruel to Me

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Missing Scene” | wc: 1,609 | rated: T | cw: mildly graphic description of injuries | tags: set during 4x08, platonic Stobin, surprisingly calm and competent Eddie, it takes a village to take care of Steve | title from “You’re My Best Friend” by Queen

———

When they arrive at Weathertop, Steve is dangerously close to running out of steam. Robin can see it in the way he slumps back in the driver’s seat after putting the RV in park. Everyone else starts filing out of the vehicle, hauling weapons and supplies with them, but Steve doesn’t move.

Robin quietly hangs back until everyone else is outside, then she creeps forward to slip into the copilot seat. She sits sideways so she can see him better, with her knees tucked to her chest and her shoes staining the seat.

He looks worse up close, she thinks. Where he would normally look tanned and healthy, his face is shiny and scabbed and dirty. At least he finally got a shirt when they stopped at the War Zone so Robin doesn’t have to keep seeing the bloody fabric around his waist, reliving the fear that he wasn’t going to make it out with them. The feeling still hasn’t left her.

Steve’s eyes don’t open, but he must sense her. “Hey,” he croaks. His voice is still strained from being strangled by the demobat, though his head is leaned back so far that the added pressure on his throat probably isn’t helping.

“Hey,” she says back, leaning forward to rest her arms on top of her knees. “You look like shit.”

He coughs out a humorless laugh. “I feel like it.” When he opens his eyes and lolls his head sideways to look at her, his gaze is bleary. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine, I wasn’t the one who got road rash over half their body and got used as a chew toy by a bunch of demobats,” she gestures at him vaguely. “Have you even gotten cleaned up?”

“Not really. Splashed some water on my face at Max’s but probably shoulda used some soap.”

Alarm bells start screaming in Robin’s head. “What about your wounds, did you wash and rebandage those?”

His guilty face tells her everything she needs to hear.

“C’mon, get up, right now,” she tells him, clambering out of her seat and dragging him upright. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you didn’t– I should’ve checked when we were at Max’s, she probably had more stuff there–”

Steve stumbles along behind her down the center aisle. “Rob, I’m okay–”

“No, actually, you probably have some crazy Upside Down infection on top of the demobat rabies, so we can see what kills you first. Sit down.”

Obediently, he collapses on the seat across from the kitchenette. Robin digs through the bags that were left on board until she pulls out bandages and rubbing alcohol. Thankfully they also stocked up on gallons of water, not knowing how much water was in the RV’s freshwater tank or how to use it.

When she turns around, Steve is gingerly pulling off his jacket and shirt, already anticipating her next orders. Jesus, he’s still wearing the scrap of Nancy’s blouse across his body, and it looks like there’s more blood seeping through than there was earlier. He could really be in danger here.

“Don’t freak out,” he tells her as he unknots the makeshift bandage and pulls it away. She immediately understands why when she sees how the fabric pulls at the wounds where drying blood stuck it to his skin. The disturbance makes it start to ooze again.

“Steve, oh my god,” she breathes, hands over her mouth in horror even as she leans down for a closer look. Is that pus? Holy shit.

“Nope, don’t start that.” Steve’s head is tilted back again, staring determinedly at the ceiling so he doesn’t have to see his own injuries. “If you freak out, then I’m gonna freak out.”

Robin’s voice is shrill when she says, “I guess we’re both freaking out then! How am I supposed to not freak out over this?!” She links her fingers and rests her connected hands on top of her head like she’s trying to hold herself together, elbows sticking out as she does a panicked little spin. “I can’t fix you if you’re already septic!”

“Well, calling me names isn’t helping!” Steve shrieks back nonsensically.

They both startle when the door opens. Eddie’s head peeks in cautiously. “Hey, everything okay in here?”

Robin whirls to face him, hands still locked on her head. After a long moment of deciding whether to lie, she settles on, “Not really.”

Steve chimes in, “Been better,” still not looking away from the ceiling.

“Okay.” Eddie gently shuts the door behind him and comes to join them in the middle of the aisle. He keeps his voice low and soft, like he’s approaching a frightened animal. “That’s kind of what we figured, with all the yelling we could hear from outside.”

Robin drops her arms. “Just a little disagreement over whether I was allowed to freak out about this.” She points accusingly at Steve’s belly. “I think yes, obviously,” she declares, volume already rising again.

“Look, Buckley, I’m not sure you’re the one we want doing first aid right now. Nothing personal,” Eddie rushes to reassure her, “just, I think your weird mind link with Harrington is making it hard for you to be objective.”

Steve snorts.

“No, we don’t need any commentary from the patient, okay?” Eddie raises his eyebrows, daring Steve to argue. When he doesn’t, Eddie guides Robin to sit beside Steve with a hand on her shoulder. “Okay. You’re on moral support duty now.”

“Only if you stop yelling at me,” Steve warns with a sidelong glance.

Robin watches Eddie dampen a towel to begin wiping away the grime and blood, then looks back up at Steve. “Sorry I yelled. And freaked out,” she mutters, finding Steve’s hand with hers.

He squeezes back, then hisses when Eddie makes contact with his wound.

“Sorry,” Eddie says absently, not looking away from where he’s daubing determinedly at Steve’s skin.

They’re quiet for several minutes while Eddie works, Robin wincing whenever Steve’s grip gets too tight but never complaining. It’s when Eddie switches to the rubbing alcohol that they have a problem.

“Shit!” Steve swears with feeling, twisting his torso away from Eddie’s hands.

“You gotta stay still, man,” Eddie sighs from where he’s kneeling between Steve’s legs.

“It hurts!” he snaps.

Robin’s other hand rubs at Steve’s nearest shoulder. “We have to clean it, Steve.” Even to her own ear, it sounds melodramatic, like they might as well be amputating a limb and giving him a belt to bite down on.

“I’m gonna do this as quick as I can, but I have to be thorough.”

Robin marvels at Eddie’s bedside manner, the mix of efficiency and apology, but mostly she’s stunned by the soft expression on Eddie’s face as he looks up at Steve. Something about it goes beyond concern for an acquaintance, maybe the way his eyes are so big and wet and earnest.

Oh my god. Does Eddie have a crush on Steve?

It makes sense, the way he had ogled Steve’s shirtless chest and gave him his clothes and stood so close to him and don’tcha, big boy?…

She comes back to reality as Steve crushes her hand again. “Hey, you’re doing great,” she tells him, resting her head against his shoulder. “You’ll be done in no time.”

Steve doesn’t respond but leans his head against Robin’s. With multiple points of contact between them, she can feel how hard he’s trying to keep still, every muscle tense like he could break any minute. By the time Eddie finishes, Robin's eyes are welling up with sympathetic tears.

“There you go.” Eddie claps his hands on his thighs as he stands up. “Buckley, help me with the bandages?”

It goes fast as they pass the roll between them, wrapping around Steve’s torso like a garland on a Christmas tree. They build up several layers, hoping the cushion and added stability will help prevent further injury. Robin watches Eddie’s hands just barely grazing Steve’s skin with his rings, his throat bobbing every time his touch lingers.

“All done. You can get a sticker and a lollipop from the nurse on your way out,” Eddie announces cheerfully.

As he turns to head back outside, Steve stops him with a hand on his wrist. “Thank you,” he says with such gravity that it almost sounds like I love you.

Eddie’s gaze jumps from Steve to Robin and then back to Steve…’s lips, holy shit. “Yeah, no problem.”

And is Robin hallucinating?? She could’ve sworn Steve had his eyes glued to Eddie’s tongue as it darts out to lick his lips. And then watching his scrawny ass walk away? They are so talking about this if they get out of this fight alive.

For now, Robin gives Steve a jug of water. “Drink lots, you’re probably dehydrated as hell. And I want you to stay in here and rest for at least an hour, okay? I’ll come wake you up if we need you.”

“Robin,” Steve sighs, but she’s already bulldozing over his protests.

“Sorry, doctor’s orders!” she tells him cheerfully before stooping down to press a kiss to his forehead. It’s killing two birds with one stone: showing Steve the physical affection he craves while also gauging if he has a fever. He’s a little warm and clammy, but not alarmingly so. She takes the deepest breath she’s been able to since Steve first got dragged through the gate at Lover’s Lake.

“Fine,” Steve huffs, already getting comfortable on the bench seat. “Love you.”

Robin smiles at the fond annoyance in his tone. “Love you, too, dingus. Try not to die in your sleep.”

[sundrop-writes]

Figure It Out

A Criminal Minds Casefic

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

Summary:

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

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

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

Word Count: 18,000

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed Warnings and author's notes below the cut.

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

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

...

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

-Friedrich Nietzsche 

...

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

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

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

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

Ten more minutes. 

“I just want to talk.” 

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

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

“This is just a conversation. Nothing more.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Reid-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

… 

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

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

“Clear!” 

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

“Clear!” 

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

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

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

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

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

Hotch had been right. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Put the knife down!” Prentiss ordered sharply. 

You didn’t move. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Prentiss!” Hotch edged in, warning her. 

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

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

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

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

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

There was a gutting silence. 

“Please, just give me the knife.” 

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

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

… 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

… 

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

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

“What is it?” Emily asked. 

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

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

It was hopeless. 

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

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

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

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

… 

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

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

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

“Tell me you like it!” 

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

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

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

“Come on, tell me you like it!” 

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

That would be your excuse.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was losing the game. 

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

“Fuck you.” He moaned out. 

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

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

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

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

… 

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

Reid needed some air. 

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

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

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

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

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

Reid nodded at this. “My apologies.” 

She looked deeply troubled. 

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

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

Reid cracked a small smile at this. 

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

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

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

She looked solemn at his words. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

… 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had driven you to take up the habit. 

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

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

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

You wished they weren’t. 

You directed the conversation elsewhere. 

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

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

He had you now. He had won. 

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

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

The silence was gutting. 

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

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

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

It felt like a lie. 

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

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

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

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

He moved back to the door silently. 

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

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

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

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

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

It came free after only a few tugs. 

… 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then she turned back to the clerk. 

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

The clerk shook his head. 

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

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

“Me either.” Hotch confirmed. 

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

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

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

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

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

“The UnSub caught her attention.” Prentiss noted. 

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

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

“Maybe.” Prentiss hummed quietly. 

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

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

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

When she glanced over her shoulder, Hotch was gone. 

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

“Hotch!” She called out. “Hotch-!” 

“We need more camera angles! We need-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hotch nodded. “Exactly.” 

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

The murders. 

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

“Y/N.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were stuck. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

… 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How does that help us?” Someone asked. 

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

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

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

Reid took a breath, and then continued on. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.” 

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

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

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

But this case - it was getting to you. 

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

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

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

You rolled your eyes at this. 

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought you quit Redbull.” She chuckled. 

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s helpful.” You sighed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was your mother. 

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

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

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

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

“Oh please, call me-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?” Morgan wondered aloud. 

You hummed back in confusion. 

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

A small plastic bag containing a piece of white paper. 

“What the hell?” Morgan mumbled quietly. 

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

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

Bile splashed up in your throat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

… 

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

“Good morning, y’all.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me too.” You easily agreed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would you mind showing me, please?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eight years.” Spencer easily corrected her. 

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

There seemed to be a resounding nod at this.

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

… 

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

“There’s my beautiful girl.” 

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

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

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

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

You spoke his language - violence. 

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

You were perfect. His perfect girl. 

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was a heavy silence at this. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Prentiss sharply rolled her eyes at this. 

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

… 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s the thing.” JJ sighed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Beyond that, there was an alarming trend. 

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

And they were from your hometown. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N.” 

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?” Reid pressed. 

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

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

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

You hated it. 

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

Sweet, accepting, understanding Reid. 

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

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

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

“I’m human. So what?” 

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

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

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

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

… 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mornin’, Penny G.” You replied.

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

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

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

The way he had written it. 

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

“What is it?” Emily asked. 

“Nothing.” You quickly replied. 

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

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

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

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

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

You barely managed to read its contents through tearful eyes. 

Lover, 

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

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

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

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

-Daniel 

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

You recognized the piece of dark cloth in an instant. 

It was from that night. He had kept it. 

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

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

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

You didn’t answer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I see?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You truly considered just coming out with it. 

But then- 

A harsh knock on the door cut through the silence. 

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

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

… 

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

Reid stormed in, capturing everyone’s attention. 

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

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

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

“What the hell is that?” Prentiss asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh. Ugh.” 

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

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

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

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

“Were any of them prosecuted?” Hotch asked. 

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

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

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

“What?” Derek prompted her. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Battered. Bruised. Broken. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?” JJ wondered aloud. 

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

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

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

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

It all fit together now. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Reid-!” 

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

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

“Y/N,” 

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

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

But you still couldn’t escape him. 

“You don’t have to do this.” 

Your hand shook as you held the knife. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer just didn’t understand. 

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

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

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

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

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

There was a gutting silence. 

“Please, just give me the knife.” 

You couldn’t give up. 

You had come too far to let Daniel win now. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t look up at him. 

You knew that you couldn’t. 

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

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

You let out another sob at this. 

You had been so alone. 

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t pity. 

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

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

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

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

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

… 

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

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

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

You should have killed Daniel. 

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

Ten more minutes. 

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

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

It could be viewed as a beautiful thing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You definitely were not used to this version of Reid. 

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

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

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

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

It caused you to flare with anger. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you couldn’t stop. 

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

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

Pity. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hotch nodded at this. 

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

“Mistake?” Spencer echoed back quietly. 

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

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

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

“I don’t know.”

...

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

-Patrick Rothfuss

...

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

[2rats1gogh]

I’ve never really seen anyone talking about this, but I noticed that one of the main reasons why I am team green is because team green feels like an actual team that is in this whole thing together.

Team Green feels connected, united, like a family.

Team Black on the other hand is… meh.

And let me explain why:

Rhaenyra being delusional and thinking that Daemon is actually in love with her when he literally just groomed her since she was a child because he has always been after her title and now wants to be her king consort. They have one of the most toxic, creepy and problematic relationships in the entire fucking show.

Then there is the very awkward and uncomfortable moment of Rhaenyra and Daemon having sex on Laena’s funeral, while Rhaenys, Corlys, Baela, Rhaena and Laenor are mourning the loss of their daughter, mother and sister. How fucking disrespectful is this. And then the fact that they have Laenor “killed” just so they can get married and have their own perfectly blonde targaryen babies.

And Rhaenyra lying about Jace, Luke and Joff to everyone in her very own “team”, trying to gaslight not only Corlys, and Rhaenys but also her own sons into thinking they are trueborn, when even Jace himself. as a child, starts asking questions.

Then there are obviously Rhaenys and Corlys, who for some fucking reason neglected their trueborn granddaughters in favor of some dark haired white bastards their daughter-in-law is trying to pass off as their son’s children. Rhaenys is trying sooo hard to please her misogynistic husband because he so desperately wants his name to go down in history. Then the disrespectful betrothal of Jace and Luke to Baela and Rhaena. Rhaenyra is literally robbing these poor girls of their rightful claim to Driftmark and usurping them. And now, with Luke being dead, Rhaena’s claim dies with him.

Baela and Rhaena losing their mother, and now their father suddenly remarries, and has two blonde boys. Rhaenys losing BOTH her children and then seeing her son-in-law and daughter-in-law getting married soon after that.

Everyone in team black is after their own ambitions. They lie to each other, they don’t trust each other, they suspect each other in different things, they cheat on each other (with each other) and lie about it, they give each other forced ultimatums, and yada yada. All their scenes feel forced, tense, awkward and uncomfortable. They look so miserable with each other.

Team Green in this sense is the exact opposite.

Although their dynamic is far from perfect, obviously, you cannot deny that they care about each other very very deeply.

Alicent loves all of her children, and even while acknowledging their flaws, she still loves them.

Aemond might’ve been a little envious of Aegon, but he would never turn his back on him. He would never betray his brother, be would never try to take his crown from him.

Aegon was far from being a perfect man and king, but, as we know, it was his love for his family, and the fear of them getting hurt that made him a more responsible person and a more protective father, husband and brother. Sure, he is a cheater, but at least he’s honest about it and doesn’t lie to his wife. He is not a hypocrite.

Criston is working for Alicent not for ambition or for self-gain, but because he genuinely loves her, whether it’s romantic or platonic, doesn’t matter.

Helaena would never betray her family, her brothers, her mother. They are all she has. She would never switch sides even if given an opportunity.

And even Otto, arguably one of the main villains of the whole show, still loves his family. Sure, he is ambitious, but he would never become Corlys level of ambitious.

Team Green feels like they are fighting against the enemy all together, they have the same goals, they feel united and you can feel their devotion to each other. Especially after blood and cheese, when they become closer than ever. They’re in this together and only if they stick to each other, they can make it. It feels genuine and honest. They don’t hide anything from each other, they always have their loved ones’ best interests at heart, they would never in a million years betray each other. Yes, they are all doomed from the start, but their dedication and love to each other is truly something else.

[gelakaien]

I disagree when people say there is no romantic subtext in itafushi because, I do think there is. I also disagree when people say there is too little [of romance] to base itafushi on it because that's really not true.

It starts with Megumi saying his type is someone with an unwavering humanity. Which is the very literal meaning of Yuuji's name. It slowly develops from there.

I also don't like how people say itafushi is one sided. IT'S NOT. He cares too much. Fushiguro is always the first one he notices in any room he's in. Even in the time he was hiding his death, he would mention Fushiguro now and then. Fushiguro just doesn't leave his mind, never did. He thinks he's very reliable, he SPECIFICALLY told Sukuna to not say anything to HIM about the fingers-resonance thing in the aftermath of the bridge fight. And the scene at the lake, where Megumi told Yuuji he'd kill him if he died, he defintely took it in a serious way, not just because he said "I better not die then" right after, but like, he even referenced that to Megumi in Shibuya. As a way of reasurance. As a way to say "I won't die on you, I will come back to you." Also thanks Mappa for making this even more gayer with the finger guns thing.

Hell, he even knows Megumi's favorite popcorn flavor and he teached him how to make meatballs. They barely knew each other for a few weeks??? And he was so overly excited to learn he'd be his closest roommate. Sure, you can say he's joyful with anyone and he is indeed, but towards Megumi, it's so much more intense. And yeeessss that could be because they are best friends alright but you can't deny it can work both ways, can you?

Since I touched in the best friends topic, I will quickly say how much it bothers me people refuse to ship two guys because they are two guys the same holds true when it's two girls but I'm mostly talking about a m/m ship. I saw someone yesterday talking about itakugi being endgame and like, sure there was some disapproval, but not as aggressive as it would be if it was an Itafushi post. Because when it's about itafushi, they easily jump on you saying "ThEY arE bEST FrIeNDds, CaN't tWo gUyS bE fRIeNDs anyMoRE??!?!? tHIs is jUst fRIendSHiP sTOpInG mAkInG iT gAy/wOkE!" well, it's funny because these exact people would immediately ship a guy and a gal even though there's so much little going on between them (take Ozawa as an example, sure she is cute and all but people saying they have more chemistry than itafushi is just... lack of literacy, like wtf???? how come a girl that appeared in ONE chapter and then NEVER AGAIN god knows if she is still alive - possible have more chemistry than two guys who went through good and bad shit together since chap 1?). But if it's a m/m, then it's a immediate no-no...? This is not about chemistry, friendship or whatever, there is a very clear name to this, the instict to immediately shut down the idea of two guys or girls together in a romantic way. You know very well what is called, don't you?

Anyway, back to Itafushi.

In the whole Shinjuku fight he's been thinking about Megumi, he went through possible ideas and plans TO SAVE Megumi. He's willing to become Sukuna's host AGAIN to save Megumi. Of course they (including Yuuji) need to defeat Sukuna, stop the Merge and save the world blah blah blah, but until so far, the core of his actions is moved by one objective: to save Megumi.

In post Shibuya he felt so conflicted about whether or not he had the right to live, and when Megumi asked Yuuji to save him, Yuuji's eyes shined again with life. They were devoid of any light until then.

Megumi means so much, so much to Yuuji, he treasures him too much. Way too much!! He would feel lonely without him.

And I don't care the way the translators chose to word this, we can safely assume that to Yuuji, Megumi's absence means loneliness. He would feel a void in his heart (I, the person writting this, am telling this in a romantic way, but you can assume that as platonically too if you like) without him. Megumi MATTERS to Yuuji, and Yuuji MATTERS to Megumi. Hell, Megumi even puts him in the same level of importance as Tsumiki, his sister, the only family he had the whole life. I'm not even gonna dive into the topic of "megumi wanted yuji to marry tsumiki" bc i think that is pure nonsense. plus she's dead. meaning they would never marry anyway.

In conclusion I think there is a lot of room for romance to flourish between these two, it might not be now, it might not be the objective of the whole work (because in the end it's a shonen, so yeah), but it's defintely not weird to think about. Love is a central theme since JJK 0.

Unfortunately people on twitter are mega stupid and I had the unpleasure to see a lot of hate towards itafushi because we apparently are in the wrong for thinking about two guys kissing no matter how much gay chap 266 was. And apparently we are in the wrong for taking Megumi and Yuuji's exchanged to a romantic level even though that shit was gay af (i personally don't talk like that to my best friends but okaaay whatever right) Which prompted me to come to another space (hopefully away from those ppl) to deposit my thoughts.

[controld3vil]

costume mishaps

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic!)

synopsis: requested by this ask, & 2!!

⤷ alt: costume mishaps happen all the time.

notes: when i saw the film, i just knew they were going be awarded best costume. LIKE princess irulan dressed up to be taken hostage. also actor!reader is referenced to have hair long enough to be braided. also this might be the last installment i do for the dune cast, i apologize but it's been slowly fallin off for me. but if i get motivated, ill be so sure writing more :)

Only recently film channels have released behind-the-scenes footage of Dune: Part Two. One of which went in depth about each important character.

When it came to your character, Denise Villeneuve placed much emphasis on wanting to find an energetic spirit. Someone who can channel childlike wonder and at the same time, play a menacing and emotional one. And for that, you were chosen and had always appreciated Denny's choice of you.

"Nerre's, they're essential to the House Atreidas. They grew up under their rule, with Paul, and have the mentality of what it means to be loyal to the things you love and hold. And I think," Fondly, Denise murmurs your name with a smile. "They delivered what was needed for the character." Shortcuts of shots of you in the desert exhibited your enthusiasm for the project. You're constantly smiling, at the joy of people's laughter. It was as if you were born to play Nerre, resembling much of their attitude and spirit.

At the end of Villeneuve's talk, it quickly moves to another shot into the desert.

"I can't do this Denny!" From far away, it zooms toward your figure, sitting at the edge of a valley of sand. In costume and everything, the only thing that discerned different was you were missing your headgear. Your locks, loose and free from any shackle you previously had, are long gone. The sunset hits your face directly and only elevates the sad pout on your lips. "Can I please put my hair up?!"

Beside you, the Paul Atreides actor sits with one leg over the other, giggling, holding his fist up to distract himself from your petty endeavor. It was fortunate today that the wind was kind. Yet it bothered you apparently, as you try to readjust strands of your hair away from your face every few seconds. There were faint shouts behind the camera and muffled current, comments that were directed back to you.

"No, it's a part of the scene!" Denise hollers, cupping his hands into a circle. A few familiar faces show up beside the director, amused and chuckling joyfully. The sun would soon be gone and it is a waste of film if you did not comply with the director's order. Yet as the video picks up, you shamelessly and eventually accept your fate, crossing your arms, and glaring at him.

In another, your annoyance grew further. Your persistence towards Denise was undeniably petty and unnecessary. It was another day shoot, with the sun glaring back on the desert lands and everything it lays its eyes on. In particular, you who is braided with loose and intricate braids on your hair. You were even advised, more encouraged to grow your locks out for the film. Which you happily followed and now regret to this day.

"I really want to just," You scoot towards the camera's view so nobody can hear except you and the cameraman. "Yank all of the hair from my scalp! The heat's killing me!"

It switches to a sit down interview of you, slowly diffusing your voice on top of the footage to connect both portions on what you were trying to convey. "Now obviously, I was exaggerating," As you nervously laughed at yourself. You're not sitting in front of the movie poster. You were in casual outing clothes and showed off a relaxed manner, "But Denny did request for me to grow out my hair for the film- not just to show that time has passed but a part of their maturity. It's not extravagant but a small change that gradually will show later on."

Your character did not have a dramatic wardrobe change. More or less, the production team wanted to include small changes to your outfits. In the first film, you were dressed in a simple Fremen still suit, with not much other than the mask attached to it.

You did not have many options to customize. Everyone's was the same, with few alternations. You were aware for Paul, Timothee adorned a long hooded cape and extra layers of fabric behind his back. Rebecca took a completely different change and discarded the Fremen attire altogether. In the sequel, she had to wear multiple layers covering her body to represent the Reverend Mother of the Fremen people.

"Just one change, that's all I'm asking!" You recited a previous conversation you had with the director. Another Dune behind-the-scenes documentary, it showcased the intricate works of the costume designers. A beautiful work of art. Every single piece of fabric was handmade and crafted. And of course, you who couldn't help but praise their efforts and reminisce the the first time you wore the still suit again before shooting.

"I remember desperately wanting a cool cape or something. And in the end, I got what I wanted!"

A cool compilation showed you running around in the Fremen attire for the first few shoots of Dune's sequel Sometimes you run off into the distance with your cape, flying behind your back. Or the times when you flipped it over your head for extra protection. Even on other occasions where you are the one fanning your cloak for your costars like Florence Pugh or Rebecca Ferguson.

"Yes, they were happy when we gave them a cape," One of the costume designers who specialized in Fremen wear said in a quick interview. She spoke of you with hearted tenderness as like many of the other designers appreciated your participation with Denise on what to change. "We also thought it would be cool to add a few chains and charms- if you see around their waist area to show how long they've been living in the desert. Things you pick up like scrap metal or maybe materials they had from their home planet that bring homage to them. We thought it would be a cool idea for Nerre, in their time, they would be scavenging for things to bring back home."

Although the most well-known shot of you was with your well-acquainted costume. Timothee and you were walking side by side in between a long valley. It was a thin canyon, built upon tall feet of rocks and dusk. The camera crew and others were careful to walk the ancient monuments. All of the Fremen extras were following behind last. In the scene together, you and Timothee were discussing plans while striding through the rocky corridor. Josh Brolin was at the side to your right and Zendaya was on Timothee's left.

But what the documentary picks up on is what happened after the scene. Right after the scene, captures the two of your mischievous and harmless banter. All of the extras and film crew scurried out of view. Zendaya can be seen sitting by a nearby ledge.

It captures you, jumping in pace to wake yourself up. Or maybe because your feet were asleep. Eventually, the French actor joins you, following the rhythm of your jumping. It's comical how casual random occurrences happen around you and your younger cast mates. To the average person on set, it was the norm to see you and Timothee replicate childish acts.

Viewers can pick up a muffled conversation as the two of you continue to bounce in unison. "You tired?"

"I feel numb!" You quicked your pace slowly and your costar continued to stare at your movements to follow. With the additional shade the canyon provided, the heat wasn't an issue but the humidity was. Zendaya who was resting behind gave you an encouraging laugh when you began to spin and jump clockwise.

Eventually, you and Timothee went back and forth to copying each other. It led to a game of tag, which dispersed people into making a circle in the middle of the road for you to play. At some point, Timothee managed to grab onto your hooded cloak which halts you backwards. Thus it was an infamous funny blooper viewers can seen reposted over thousands of times.

With him holding your cape, and slowly going under as if performing a dance.

Even when asked about that particular clip on the carpet, you both only shared dotting reminisce and giggles.

"He almost made me fall when he grabbed my cape," You huffed, pointing at the said perpetrator while the interviewer, holding the microphone looked his way accusingly. Timothee doesn't deny your claims as he blatantly grins, happily on the special moment.

"Wow!"

"I mean, I think I won that tag game but sure," The brunette sarcastically directs his eyes toward the veil behind your back that replicated the cloak cape you wore in the movie. "You could've gotten hurt."

"Yes, because you were about to rip that thing off my neck!" You emphasized greatly into the microphone which had the interviewer throw out a chuckle. Timothee breaks as well but regains his posture before glancing at anyone behind who wants to defend him.

"I think a rematch would be in order," They added, earning hums from you, only fueling your competitive drive.

"Obviously!"

"You wanna go right now?" Timothee speaks up, emitting false confidence as he puffs up his chest. You do the same, despite knowing you are at a disadvantage for not wearing a flexible outfit to run in.

"Yeah if you're game!" You shouted back, cracking your knuckles as a few paparazzi snapped photos of your hilarious rivalry. Within seconds, he taps your shoulder before running off in the opposite direction. It leaves you off, gawking in surprise before chasing him down the carpet, struggling as you run past your other cast members and cameras.

By the end of the night, the two of you were in a tie. You won, in revelation to everyone's surprise as a picture was posted online of you posing with rock and roll peace signs and Timothee holding up the veil that was attached to your outfit, replicating the previous video.

"I have a question,"

This was the BuzzFeed UK interview. For all the five younger cast members to sit down and talk with one another. Really more of a natural and informal discussion that didn't need to pertain to obvious questions about the film. Everyone sat in comfortable sofa chairs of their own, each receiving their own microphone.

It was Florence who spoke, directly eyeing Austin Butler to your left side. Your eyes followed her insulated question, but your mind was unbothered. Your fingers unconsciously fiddled and scratched the mic as your blonde costar asked, "Your bald cap, at what point in the day were you like God I can't wait to get it off!"

Your stoic expression broke into a warm smile, remembering all the times you've seen Austin in his Feyd costume. "It's a good question."

"When did it get uncomfortable and sticky?"

"After lunch?"

"Yeah yeah I mean it kind of got to a point where I did- I would forget, it just feels like it's a part of you and I was focused on so many other things, but it's usually when it got really hot," The Princess Irulan's actress mumbles in agreement, "Particularly the arena scene cause I'm outside in the sun and it's 110 degrees and that's on your head. I just would- want to cut the damn thing off."

It earns honest chuckles from Florence and Zendaya who both agreed. A few seconds later, it cuts to you with a knowing smile before speaking up into the microphone, "At least you didn't have to deal with all of your hair- and mess," Additional hums from the others joined as Austin chokes out a laugh, before taking a second glance at you.

"I mean yeah- there are a few positives to wearing a cap," He shrugs his shoulders, knowing how you'd react to his casual response meant to be teasing.

"What was your experience like?" Florence turns the question towards you. She states your name accordingly as if seriously questioning you. Your head turns and you give her a look before answering.

"Madness," Only to be returned with huffs and pants, mostly coming from Zendaya who knew well of your petty endeavors with your hair and makeup. "I wouldn't say it was worse or better but god, the extreme heat from the desert really sold me cutting my hair short." From your side, Austin squints his eyes, unable to take your sarcasm seriously. While you can see Timothee on the far side of the group, humorlessly shaking his head as you try to reaffirm yourself.

"I think out of everyone, you take the most with hair and makeup beside Austin," The mixed actress addressed, clasping her hands together with the microphone in-between. Florence hums and you nod your head far too quickly, only to be caught by your French costar.

He calls out your name, "You take like forever in the chair, what's up with that?" Suddenly you feel the air change as you give an accused look, trying to play innocent.

"Some people take their time longer in the chair okay," You huffed and puffed as you glanced around the room. Luckily Austin decided to help on your side, empathizing with how long it takes for him to prepare in the chair.

"Both of us gotta take care of our hair you know," He adds, quickly lowering his microphone which leads a twinkle in your eyes as you gleam adoringly at him.

"Yes exactly!"

"Wow really?"

"Okay but the bald cap requires much more time and precision. You're just taking a long time and can't sit still," Florence buts in, moving closer to the edge of her seat.

You gawk at her, grasping the nonexistent pearls on your chest as you can discern Timothee and Zendaya's laughter. "Where did all of this hostility come from?"

"You know what? Ever since you broke my headpiece!" There were gasps and your blonde costar only looked at you, with a cold funny stare. Your jaw drops, knowing it was the few incidents you wanted to erase from your memory.

"Did you really break her headpiece?" Timothee sighs at you in disappointment. He gives you a fake frown before you turn to the camera, looking at the audience, unbelievable how the tables quickly turned.

"The tea!"

"First it was minor, only a few of the shards dropped." You raised your index finger, then cast eye contact with each person, "And not to mention, Florence, you let me touch it!" This time, it was Zendaya who gasped in astonishment, looking back and forth.

"I guess this was how the holy war started," Timothee speaks indistinctly, cupping one of his hands on the mic. Only to be heard of your exclamations in bewilderment.

[entitled-fangirl]

His carefully crafted web.

Will Graham x Graham!reader x Hannibal Lecter

Summary: Hannibal wants both the Grahams to himself. He begins to spin his web of lies to get them crawling right to him.

Warning: Manipulation and gaslighting!!

Author's note: You can't look at this gif and be like "That's platonic love." LOOK AT IT! Also- I wanna write just a Hannibal x reader but my mind is blanking so hard.

Masterlist

........................................................

Jack Crawford led the Grahams to the crime scene, letting their eyes wander over the dead body in front of them. 

Neither were easily mortified at vicious killings anymore.

After all, she was their head biologist, and Will was their reconstruction specialist. 

But the dead body in front of them sent a small shiver down the woman's spine.

Will noticed and placed a gentle hand on her back. "You alright?"

She nods, "M'fine."

Jack nods at the two, "Do your thing, Will." And he walks out of the house, leaving the two Grahams alone.

Y/N bends down to the body, "This girl drowned on her own blood. That gives you something to go off of." She stands and gives her husband a sweet kiss on the cheek, "I'll be just outside."

He reaches out and grabs her hand, "Stay?"

Her eyebrows furrow, "I thought you do this best alone?"

"I do, but you help me think. Just… you being near helps me. It… brings me back to reality when I get too lost. Just promise me you'll stay?"

She was at a loss for words, "I… yes… of course."

He nods and closes his eyes, taking deep breaths.

…

"You said that to her?" Hannibal asks Will.

"Yeah, and I meant it too. I've been so worried about not coming out of the daze. She… she keeps me away from making my own design."

"And what happens when she can't help you anymore?"

Will sits up, "what do you mean?"

Hannibal blinks, "There may come a day that she can't help you anymore. What if you hurt her?"

Will loses color in his face, "No, I wouldn't do that."

The doctor shrugs, "How do you know?"

"I just won't." He looks up unsure, "Hannibal, that won't happen, right?"

Hannibal sighs, "I can't guarantee it, Will. You and I both know that."

Will sits back and runs a hand over his face. How could he be so stupid to not think about that? What if he wakes up from his daze to be covered in her blood?

He doesn't think he'd be able to live.

"Just promise me, Will. If something happens, anything, that you'll come to me. I can protect you. And her."

Will nods like it's obvious. 

…

Hannibal had a plan in motion. He always does.

And he wanted the Grahams.

He knew that they were attached at the hip, practically an extension of the other. So in order to gain their trust, he'd have to break them apart. 

But he knew he could always get them back together once they were his.

So, getting under Will's skin was the first step.

And it was too easy.

Hannibal was beginning to spin his little web.

Now, to get Will's wife.

…

"Y/N, may I speak with you?" Hannibal asked the biologist.

She looked up from her microscope in the lab, "Hannibal? You're the last person I expected to see. I'm pleased, don't get me wrong."

He smiled, "I understand. I'm just worried about you."

"Me?" She scoffs lightly, "Why are you worried for me?"

He steps up to her, letting his voice drop, "Has Will ever… laid his hands on you?"

She blinked, "What?"

"Has he hurt you?"

Y/N stepped away from his in suspicion. "No. Will would never. Why are you pointing fingers, Hannibal?"

Hannibal sighs as sets his blazer over a chair. "I'm worried that he's become unstable."

She nods, "He is but he's getting better. That doesn't put me at risk."

His eyebrow raised, "It doesn't?"

Suddenly, she wasn't so sure.

"No, it… Will… he… um… Hannibal, I don't understand."

He steps a bit closer now, their faces inches apart, "If he lays a hand on you, or hurts you in any way, I want to be the first to know. I would never let him touch you."

She tilts her head, "Hannib-"

"-No more. I need a promise, Y/N."

She shakes her head, "It won't happen."

He reaches forward and brushes hair behind her ear, "Your promise, Graham."

"I promise?"

He nods, "Good girl."

And with that, he grabs his jacket and leaves.

…

Now, the Grahams were avoiding each other. 

Neither wanted to talk out their recent feelings with the psychiatrist. 

And Hannibal could not be more pleased. 

Both came practically crawling to him.

And he welcomed them with feigned surprise and open arms.

…

A few months and many manipulative talks later, he had them trained exactly how he wanted them.

Hannibal came home and set his bag down gently, "Y/N?" His voice rang out.

She floated down the stairs happily, "You're home early!"

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist, "I wanted to see you two as quickly as I could."

Will rounded the corner, "Oh. I didn't hear you come in, Hannibal."

Hannibal's smile only grew, "When you read, you're in another world, dear Will."

The two share a gently kiss. 

Will pulls Y/N away from Hannibal's arms to wrap his own around the girl.

"I've been thinking," Hannibal says. He states it as if it's a new thought, and not one he had planned since the day he met the pair, "I feel a bit left out. You're both the Grahams."

Will places a kiss on the woman's neck and then looks up at Hannibal, "Oh, did you want to be a Graham, too, Hannibal? We can make that happen."

"No," Hannibal said with a smirk as he stared at the beautiful couple in front of him- the couple that lived in his home, ate his dinners he created, and slept beside him every night. The couple that belonged to him. "I believe the Lecters are more elegant. Don't you, darling?" He looks at Y/N.

Her lips pull into a line and she looks up at Will, "The Lecters? Will?"

Will was already beaming, "The Lecters. I've never been more sure of anything in my life, Hannibal."

Hannibal smiled.

…

He had spun his web slowly and meticulously, paying attention to every detail. 

And the two little bugs known as the Grahams had landed right in it unknowingly.

After all, the spider was very charming.

.....................................................

[asimpwithfreetime]

May I please request a Yandere! Platonic Sully Family x Daughter! Reader fic? Where she’s Lo’ak’s younger twin and she’s very much like her dad’s twin Tommy. Maybe she’s the brains and would often be the mature one between her and Lo’ak? And they’re just protective over their baby girl. Was thinking of the fic showing what her life was like, like with all the scenes from the movie that were all family-focused up until they join the Metkayina and they learn their ways, maybe she gets some attention from boys of the Metkayina clan. Maybe she’s the one that gets shot and ALMOST dies and the family is just enraged and go on a killing spree with the RDA? And when she recovers she’ll be doted on?

I love the idea. In my whole life as a fanfic writer (I have another account we’re I’ve been writing since I was 12) I have never written platonic relationships so I don’t know how it is going to go. But I’ll try my best! I hope you like it.

It was going to be too much if I did everything that was asked there, so I just did the daily life of her with her family and what would happen if, once in the Metkayina clan, boys would flirt with her.

My family (Yandere! Platonic Sullys x younger daughter! Reader)

Pairings: ALL OF THEM PLATONIC. Yandere! Jake Sully x daughter! Reader, yandere! Neytiri x daughter! Reader, yandere! Neteyam x baby sis! Reader, yandere! Lo’ak x younger twin! Reader, yandere! Kiri x younger sister! Reader and Tuk x older sister! reader

Content warning: not proofread yet, English isn’t my first language

General warnings: Yandere actions, obsessive behavior, violence

[ 3rd person POV ]

The Sully family was well structured. Everyone had a role. Tuk was the only one that could do what she wanted. Apart from her, everyone’s role was to protect Y/n and be there for her. From Jake to Kiri, even her twin brother Lo’ak.

No one had made up that rule or spoken about it. They all got the idea the moment she opened her eyes for the first time.

She was a blessing from Eywa and her family loved her very much. So much that they had the feeling that they had to protect her until their very last breath.

She hadn’t noticed yet, but she had triggered the “yandere” gene in her family. In a platonic way, all they wanted was for her to love them as equally and to be protected.

Jake needed his goodnight cuddles with his baby or he felt sad and he begged Neytiri to tug Y/n into bed every night. Neytiri loved to teach her how to hunt and to protect herself. She felt proud of her baby, even though she would never let her go on her own.

Neteyam loved to have his little sister around. Cuddles were his favorite. But just having her in his line of vision was enough to keep him calm and collected. He also adored the way Y/n had him as her hero.

Lo’ak sometimes bickered with her, they were twins after all. But he knew how much he needed her, she had the brain and he had the muscle. He loved seeing her laugh when he said something funny.

Kiri enjoyed time alone with her sister as well. Kiri was far more introverted than the rest and she liked a good book an telling her sister curious things about Pandora.

Tuk was just happy that everyone loved Y/n and her. She was the real baby of the house.

Y/n, completely oblivious to all of this she was happy to have such a loving family. She loved each one equally and she enjoyed time with each of them. She didn’t see the arguments the siblings sometimes had over who would spend time with you that day. Usually if things got too serious Neytiri would intervene while Jake pulled you aside so you wouldn’t have to witness it.

Even if they loved each other, all of them longed to be the protector of Y/n. If something ever happened to her they would go completely crazy.

Changing homes wasn’t something easy for anyone, but they pulled their feelings away to take care of Y/n’s. Even though she assured them she was doing fine.

She flew in Jake’s ikran. She had one but the family thought it would be safer. A few hours before taking off they fought over who would hold you. Neytiri was going to go with Tuk so she acted as a mediator. Jake won being the dad.

Once in the Metkayina clan, all of the other Na’vi could see the circle that the family instinctively made around Y/n. Ao’nung and his friends had their eyes on her right away, they made Neteyam and Lo’ak give them death glares.

A few days into the clan, everyone was adapting just fine, on their own rhythm. Neteyam was sly and made Lo’ak go with Tsireya. He did find the young Metkayina cute, but he shouldn’t look anywhere but Y/n. What if she hurt herself? What if Ao’nung tried to harass her for having demon blood?

WHAT IF HE TRIED TO WOO HER?

Lo’ak’s blood boiled at the thought. No one was good enough for his sister.

“Teyam!” Y/n smiled from her ilu, she waved at her brother with a sweet smile and that beautiful nickname he loved. “Look!” She splashed around.

“Very good, Y/n!” He beamed at her. Rotxo stopped helping Neteyam for a moment. “If you want to get an ilu we should get further from them” he said. Neteyam shook his head. He needed to be close, otherwise something could happen to her.

And he would rather die before letting her alone with Ao’nung. “C’mon demon child, try to go into the sea with your ilu” he said with a mischievous smile. He was flirting with her, no doubt.

Neteyam’s expression darkened and soon Lo’ak joined him. “Are you trying to flirt with our baby sister?” Lo’ak said, getting awfully close to Ao’nung. “So what if I am?” The Metkayina taunted.

“This happens” Lo’ak said before punching him. Y/n’s eyes widened. “Lo’ak! Stop!” She said, she felt scared, she had never seen her brothers be violent with anyone.

“Come with me, Y/n” Neteyam ordered. The sweet tone king forgotten. Y/n did as told when he pulled her wrist. “Teyam! Why is he doing that?” She said getting further from the fight. They reached were Kiri was. “Take her to the hut” he informed. Kiri nodded. “Let’s go, you don’t wanna see that, do you?” She asked, raising a brow.

“No, of course not!” Y/n replied. When they got to the hut it was empty. The fight had gotten out of hand, Neteyam and Lo’ak were in bad condition, but Ao’nung and his other friends were worse.

Jake came into the hut first, looking awfully angry. “Now you two are going to explain to me WHY THE HECK YOO WERE FIGHTING RIGHT AFTER WE INSTALLED OURSELVES!” He roared to his two sons.

“Ao’nung was hitting on Y/n” Lo’ak informed. When he named her all of them looked at her. “Then good job son!” He said, his mood swinging completely.

“But dad! Fights aren’t good” Y/n tried to reason. Jake’s arms trapped her in a bear hug. “They were protecting you, baby. We all do. If they fight to keep you safe it is perfectly fine” he kissed the top of her head with love.

[quietlyinlife]

Platonic Yandere Father Leon Kennedy

•If Leon is possessive and obsessive with his wife, then you are in the same position as your mother but worse the moment you were born and being held in his arms. 

•After all the hardships and deaths he experienced when he was a newbie cop and the outbreaks that occurred, he didn’t want you to leave him or your mother. The two people he loves so much that Leon is willing to give up saving the world in order to rescue you and his wife.

•Leon may not have gotten the childhood he wanted after his parents’ death but he didn’t want you to go through the same traumatic experience as he did when he was a kid.

•Also made you another reason why he should continue fighting to stay alive.

•As a father, he would aid your mother to take care of you, help her bathe you, feed you, go out to buy baby supplies, and insist that your mother should stay home and play with you before he comes back.

•When his job doesn’t call for him, he spends all his time and attention on you. Showing you the toys he brought as you lay on your crib and watching him give you many plushies to hold. Would coo at you while he carries you and makes a promise to you that even if you grow up into an adult, he will always protect you and your mom and kill anyone who tries to take the both of you away.

•Definitely watches over you in the middle of the night after waking up from one of his many nightmares. Eyes were glued to you as you slept and sometimes he would doze off on the couch in the nursery room.

•Would play games with you like hide and seek or tag when you learned how to walk and talk.

•As a child, you were naive about the dark past Leon has with your mom, you only noticed how your mom was never allowed to go outside alone with you. Only Leon could accompany you and your mom during outings together. You also noticed how tightly his hand held your mom’s while the three of you went on a walk through the empty road in an isolated forest where the house is located. Leon never allows you to run far.

•When it’s just you and your mom at home, she begins to tell you stories about how she met your father when both of them were young. Your father used to be a police officer and he saved her from being attacked and they went traveling around Raccoon City. She left the outbreak of the t-virus part out, including how she got kidnapped by Leon a few weeks later after six years when he finally reunited with her.

•As you grow up into a teenager, you start to begin to notice how isolating your father is. One time you asked if you could go outside, Leon would look at you, startled before a smile forms on his face, and gives a short speech about how dangerous this world is and how there are dangers at every corner. But he would take you outside the home if you begged enough for a four-minute walk before going back inside. But if you asked one more time to go out he’ll usually ignore you or just say no.

•Leon never lets you go out alone, or out with some friends. Your dad doesn't trust anyone with you or your mom.

•Leon is a spoiling father, buying you anything you want with no limits if you asked. Your mother taught you to be grateful for all the things Leon and her have done for you. 

•Leon is a bit too much as a father, he hates when you do something without him, or on your phone and not paying attention to him, and wants you to always text him or say it to him physically goodnight to him before sleeping. But what Leon hates the most is when you watch horror movies and he would sometimes get a bit ptsd from them when he sees a scene quite similar of what he went through. He thinks you're too young for them and bad for your mental health so if he ever catches you watching something scary, he would give you a death stare before turning the tv off.

"I don't want you to ever watch any of this." Leon fumes, a frown casting across his face as his tone is deep and dark. His eyes stares deep into your own. Not once looking away from you, You were nearly quivering on the couch but kept a brave face. And ever since that day, you only watched horror movies inside your room on your laptop.

•Would ask you questions about your day when he comes home. Also expects you to go to him for a hug when he returns from his mission. If you don’t show up then he’s at the door of your room, knocking and engulfing you into a tight hug. You’re not allowed to complain.

“Am I not allowed to hug my only child? I miss you every day even when we live in the same house together.” He tells you as he pulls you back to look at your face with a questioning look.

•You’re not the only victim of his affections, your mom is too as he forces kisses on her face.

•Leon also checks your phone sometimes just to watch out for you, as he claims but you brush it off since he just wants to see if your friends are a bad influence. You kept it from your father when he was away for his job as an agent, you would always delete the messages between you and your friends.

•But what you didn’t know is that Leon hacked into your phone before he even gave it to you as a gift when he first brought it for you when you turned 13 years old; giving him access through your contacts and other stuff. He simply wants to know if you hide things from him. You would never find out the real reason why your friends suddenly leave the school. There’s nothing you can hide from him.

•You started to become a bit scared of your father when you started to read people's horrifying experience on the internet of what they went through of someone stalking them and obsessing over them. One woman told the story of how her boyfriend never allowed her to talk to any guy or friends because he was scared they were going to take her away from him. But when she confronted him about his behaviour, he excused it saying that "This world is dangerous and I am simply protecting you." And you quickly found out that your dad is more than just an agent.

•You noticed how jumpy your mom is around Leon and how in the middle of the night, he would always say how much he loves her and that he is doing this for your and her own good. You even recall hearing your mom crying silently in the kitchen. She never says "I love you" towards Leon.

•Your curiosity brought you to investigate your parent's past.

•You only came to fully realize the toxic behavior of your father because you decided to snoop around your dad’s office after managing to open the door, using the lock-picking technique you learned from the internet.

•You were curious about why your father forbade you from entering his office, but also you figured it would be easier starting with him considering of his actions and it’s not like he would find out immediately of what you did. That’s what you reassured yourself.

•Many documents could be found and a report on your father’s desk, that’s when you came to know about the Kennedy report and see your father’s younger picture. You saw how stoic and stern his face was, so dull with no sign of light.

•You could definitely understand why as you read through the report.

•You also came to know what actually happened in Raccoon City that your mom didn’t tell you about. But what was more shocking is that you opened a file containing your mother’s entire information that was hidden in his drawer and many pictures of her. Including a newspaper talking about the missing woman who is known to be your mother.

•The moment Leon left the house not before giving your mom a goodbye kiss and giving you a kiss on the top of your head as well, you confronted your mother about the file and how she kept the outbreak from you. Even how your dad literally has an entire information and pictures of her. That’s when you saw her face morph into terror as you demanded an explanation of what is going on.

•Tired of her keeping secrets.

• And your mother told you the entire story of what happened in Raccoon City and Leon’s obsession that drove him to abduct her, as a way to protect her. She even mentioned that he cared for another woman named Ada Wong but he still chose your mom. Your mother didn’t leave any single detail out as she told her story of how Leon gaslighted her and how she tried to escape many times but failed. You couldn’t help but see your parents in a different light now.

“Let’s run away together Mom.” You told her with a determined expression as she profusely shook her head, not agreeing with you. 

“N-no my love, you don’t know what your father is truly capable of.” Your mother stuttered as she cupped your face.

“What do you mean? Dad’s a secret agent and he knows how to fight, right?”

“There’s more than that.” Mom whispers to you, her frightened eyes never leaving your face.

•What you two didn’t know is that Leon has placed hidden cameras in the house, watching and listening. He heard the entire conversation and was rather heartbroken that you suggested to escape with your mom.

•And even disappointed when he watched you go through his work in the office. Leon is not dumb because he knows there will be a time when you truly find out the truth. He is aware of your growing suspicion.

•If you ever escaped, you wouldn’t go that far since your father would always find you. He placed a tracker on your clothes, phone, and jewelry. If you wear it.

•Leon never treated you and your mother bad! He could never bring himself to even use violence towards the both of you. You didn’t understand but don’t worry. As a father, he’ll make you see through his perspective in his own way.

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

Sorry if I’m a bother, if that’s the case feel free to skip over this one.

I freaking loved it! I’m now inspired to draw Sam with the overlords now! If it’s not too much trouble could I ask for Zestial, Charlie and the rest of the hotel’s reactions to Sam?

(Ooo!😳 what if for Angel’s it’s Valentino who tries to hurt him?! That could get messy!)

A/n: Nah dude you're fine! Though I don't write for Zestial (not that that's your fault I keep forgetting to put that in the rules.)

Warnings (?): nothing major happens but Val's here so warning for abuse. Also, Alastor is hurt in Husk's part and Val is hurt in Angel's part, it's nothing graphic but if you don't want to read about that skip those parts.

!!!not proofread!!!

Charlie: Just as cuddly as you! Gladly accepts any candy from you. She ends up getting candy from the hotel for you. Let's you tag along if it's safe (or at least what she assumes you can handle.) Despite being the princess of Hell it's a known fact that she's a pushover and usually refuses to use her powers. So it's not that much of a surprise when someone attacks her. What is a surprise is how you react. I'm going to be honest, she is at least a little scared of you now. Though she's pretty sure you'd only attack people when they hurt your friends. We’re about 80% sure they're harmless.

Vaggie: She ain't too keen on cuddles, but isn't totally against it. She's not great with kids when they're just chilling so she doesn't know what to do. Also, she isn't one for sweets but appreciates the gesture. You remind her of Charlie in a weird way (but like platonic obviously.) Vaggie got some crayons for today's bonding activity when some random sinner attacked Vaggie. Before Vaggie could defend herself the sinner was ripped off of her. She just stared dumbfounded as you took care of the sinner. Well, there goes her thinking you're like Charlie. I mean sure you seemed sweet when somebody attacked a person you liked. You became terrifying and did anything to defend them- wait never mind you're more like Charlie now.

Angel Dust: Kinda creeped out by you before you do anything tbh. You follow him around nearly everywhere and keep offering him candy, despite barely knowing each other. But he understands you're a kid and may have a hard time showing you care, but he sets a ground rule: NEVER follow him to work. It's not a place for kids to be, and you followed that! Valentino just couldn't keep his hands off Angel even out of the studio. You too were just at a park, it was night so no one was really around. Until Valentino spotted Angel, you didn't hear any of the words that were said between them. But you did see Valentino hit Angel and that was the end of that. Seeing you almost kill Valentino was horrifying but also very cathartic. After the initial shock wears off you get about 20 bags of candy and however much cuddle time you want.

Husk: He's pretty blunt about finding you off-putting. But you don't seem to care and still follow him around like a lost puppy. The fact that him insulting you didn't sour your opinion of him even a little bit concerns him. So he starts to look after you. Not because he cares about you! Just because it'd be messed up to let a kid get manipulated no matter who they are. He totally cares about you. He gives chocolate milk or any sweet drink you like at the bar. One day Husk decided to stand up to Alastor which seemed to be a huge mistake on Husk's part. It would have been if it wasn't for you walking in on the scene. The threats were made good on. Just towards Alastor instead of him doing them. Husk is a little shaken up but hey he's probably free now. Gets you any candy you want and shows you a shit ton of card tricks.

Niffty: Tbh I don't have much to say about her. She finds you interesting but doesn't give you much thought. Though eventually when you protect her she returns your affection. Because you are scary and small which are both things she is.

Sir Pentious: (this is while he's in hell btw) Not great with kids. Like I don't think the egg bois are kids but even if they are the only experience he has with kids is his minions. But he does try! He does care for kids. He'll get you candy and cuddle if you want. He used to try to take over territories a lot. He always failed but he still made a lot of enemies that way. So when one of them finds him and tries to hurt him while you're around? I mean if he still wants that territory he can definitely take it now. To be honest I think he'd find you cool, even if you're more than a little scary.

[thosewildcharms]

Any personal headcanons on Rick and Michonne as a couple? Like their favorite things about the other, what they argue about, love languages ect. lol they’ve set up camp in my brain and I just want more of them 🙇🏻‍♀️

this is so funny because i've been thinking about their love languages ever since danai did that interview with YNB after 1x04! yvette said rick's is words of affirmation and michonne's is acts of services, and I definitely agree but I also think they display pretty much all of them, and quite a bit? rick is obviously into giving gifts and loves quality time (family fun day, begging her to spend just a few more days on the road in 7x12) and to say they both love physical touch is an understatement. this gorgeous gifset highlights it all beautifully.

anyway, some headcanons~

I really don't think they argue about much? they are very in sync most of the time. historically their big arguments are about how to handle major threats (negan, the crm, rick's PTSD) and since nothing bad is ever happening to them ever again because I said so there's no need to fight about those things anymore

michonne's favorite things about rick are how affectionate he is with his family, his strength, his accent, and his hair

rick's favorite thing about michonne is everything

i actually think they talk about books a lot. they're both nerdy as hell in different ways and love that about each other

michonne likes to cook and is very experimental while rick likes to bake (mostly secret family pie recipes) and they love feeding each other and their kids

michonne absentmindedly sings and does little dances when she's doing things around the house and rick stops whatever he's doing to lean against the wall and watch her and smile

that scene we saw in 9x01 where they cuddle up in bed and unpack their day was a ritual they started way back at the prison, even though back then it was obviously platonic (we do actually see them talking when everyone else is asleep several times throughout twd). they would linger and chat before heading to their respective cells at night. in the six years michonne spent without rick, she continued the tradition herself, talking to him out loud alone in their bedroom

rick DEFINITELY teases michonne about being oblivious to his feelings for her before The Couch

michonne hits back by teasing him about Whatever the Fuck He Was Doing With Jessie 💀

you didn't ask for grimes family headcanons but:

after they got home, michonne has a moment like that scene at the end of kill bill vol 2 and has a near silent hysterical laugh-cry of relief by herself in the bathroom before calmly walking back out to join her family. only rick notices

rick on the other hand is afraid to let any of them out of his sight. he spends the first six months he's back home being a total insomniac watching the three of them sleep because he's afraid if he closes his eyes he'll wake up alone back at the CRM

antony azor who plays rj is apparently very shy and reserved but opened up unexpectedly with andrew lincoln and so obviously this is also exactly what happened with rick and rj. father and son bonded INSTANTLY

his first night back, judith asks rick to finish reading the wizard of oz to her because he never got a chance to. it takes a good five minutes for him to compose himself but she does finally get the full story from her dad

rick and michonne do have an actual wedding ceremony, but it's just for them, judith and rj.