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lonelym00n · 1 year ago

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The End.

Part five of The Devil Likes the Pirate Series

Tara Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 8.9k

Summary: All good things must come to an end, even if the path to get there is a difficult one.

Warnings: Spoilers for Scream VI, some violence, and a few buckets of angst!

A/N: That's it, it's done! For my first ever series, it's not terrible! Sure it could be better, but I'll happily settle for it being good. I never would've thought that my silly oneshot would've turned into this, but I'm so glad it did!

The Carpenter’s apartment goes from being quiet enough to hear a pin drop, to the loud thunder of arguing voices.

Sam orders Tara to pack a bag, to get all of her stuff together quickly so they can take off.

Tara refuses, stating that Sam is overacting and that she doesn’t want to disrupt her life here in New York.

While the sisters are locked in a battle of crossed swords, you are preoccupied with your own feelings of unease. Mindy has been eyeing you with something akin to skepticism for the past few minutes and you are desperately trying not to panic under her scrutiny.

You have an idea of the conclusion that she’s likely come to. The attacks occurred last night, the same night that everyone was conveniently accounted for inside the apartment. Everyone but you.

All the current signs point to you and as daunting as it is, you can’t deny that if you were in Mindy’s shoes, you’d suspect yourself too. It didn’t take a mind as sharp as Mindy’s to piece together what it might mean that Ghostface reappeared at the same time that you were absent.

A sliver of luck is evidently on your side, because no one else but Mindy has stopped to consider potential suspects.

You know that it’s going to be hard to talk Mindy out of her distrust in you, but you have to attempt to sway her opinion before she notifies the rest of the group.

Without alerting anyone else, you cautiously wave Mindy over to you.

Begrudgingly, she makes her way across the room. Her arms are crossed firmly over her chest while you chew your lip nervously.

“I know how it looks, Minds, but it wasn’t me.”

She snorts, “You do realize that’s exactly what the killer would say, don’t you?”

You attempt to swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat. This conversation was going to be harder than you thought.

In the days that you were avoiding the rest of the group, Mindy had opened up to you about her trauma. She’d relayed that her uncle was known as the expert, the guy who knew just what to do to not only survive the killer, but to expose them. A ghost of a smile had appeared across her lips when she told you that she’d followed in his footsteps and taken up the same role.

The task of convincing the expert that they’re wrong is overwhelmingly difficult, one incorrect move and no one will trust you for however long these attacks last.

“I swear that I went back to my room.”

There’s a wide and pleading look in your eyes, but it’s going to take a lot more than that to persuade her.

You’re scrambling for anything that can back up your alibi. “My roommate saw me! I can text her, shit I’ll call her.”

Before you can dial the girl’s number, Mindy’s hand lands on your wrist. You snap your eyes up to meet hers.

“Alright, stop. I know how much you hate talking to her, you don’t have to call her.”

You heave out a sigh of relief.

“You’re not off the hook completely, maybe you were at your dorm but there’s still a chance you could be lying. It’s not enough to check you off my list entirely, but I’ll leave it alone for now.”

“I get it,” swallowing thickly, you nod.

“Good.”

Mindy turns to return back to the group, but stops short.

“You’re my friend and I care about you, but I won’t give you a second chance. If you screw up and do anything else that I find suspicious, I’ll make sure that none of us ever talk to you again.”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, but you don’t need to. You know she’d keep true to her word, and so you can only hope you don’t find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time again.

You remain in your spot against the wall for a while. It’s in your best interest to try and blend in, so you’re in no rush to reenter the room.

Most of the others are still sitting on the couch, Sam’s pacing back and forth on the phone. Tara stands in the entryway of her room with her arms crossed defiantly.

Sam turns to face everyone, “I’m going down to the station.”

She strides over to the door and Tara speeds over before she can exit.

“I’m coming with you.”

Sam goes to argue, but Tara cuts her off, “We’re supposed to stick together, aren’t we?”

Though you are situated directly adjacent to the entryway, neither of the Carpenter sisters spare you a glance as they leave the apartment.

A sense of apprehension creeps up into your chest, and though it’s glaringly obvious, you have a sinking suspicion that everything is about to go terribly wrong, terribly quickly.

Attempting to ignore the fact that you’ve now become a character in a real life horror movie, you survey the rest of the room once more. Mindy and Anika are hushedly whispering between themselves, Quinn has returned to her room, and Ethan is distracting Chad with some video on his phone.

You want to leave, to lock yourself into your dorm room to process the fact that there’s a pretty high chance that you might die at the hands of a knife-bearing psycho in a halloween costume, but you can’t. You can’t risk being alone right now, not only because you’d be privy to an attack, but because Mindy’s words haven’t stopped swirling around in your head. No second chance.

So, despite your want to be alone, you trudge over to the couch and perch on the edge of it. Your hands come up to cover your face as you try your best to think of anything other than the worst case scenario of the situation you’ve found yourself in.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you and the other occupants of the small apartment, another attack has occurred in the rundown bodega up the street.

Sam and Tara, who just barely evaded the long-barrel of Ghostface’s shotgun, are now sitting in the precinct’s interrogation room, accompanied by Detective Wayne Bailey.

Once he receives both of the Carpenter’s alibis for the attack the night prior, he shifts his questioning to the other members of the group.

Mindy and Chad are promptly vouched for, leaving you, Quinn, Anika, and Ethan vulnerable to Bailey’s queries.

The gruff man asks about everyone else’s whereabouts last night, excluding Quinn who, as her father, he can check off the list.

A reluctant conversation silently takes place between the sisters.

Sam gives her sister a sorrowful look, as if to say, ‘We both know who wasn’t there, we have to tell him.’

Tara’s eyes widen, signaling her response, ‘But Sam-’

Sam places a heavy hand on Tara’s shoulder, patting it lightly. She turns to Detective Bailey.

“Anika, and Ethan stayed over at our apartment after the movie night.”

“And Y/N Y/L/N?”

Sam pauses, trying to avoid catching her sister’s pleading glance.

“She left late last night, we don’t know where she went.”

Bailey jots something down on his notepad before looking back up at the two sisters.

“We’ll call her in for questioning.”

Tara stays frozen in her seat, unmoving. All the while, her mind is shouting at her to jump to your defense.

Her lips, however, remain pressed together in a thin, disconcerted line. She wants so badly to believe that you’re innocent, but a tiny nagging voice sings songs that you’re guilty and that you’re out for her blood, out to finish what Amber Freeman couldn’t.

Distantly, Tara notices that Bailey gets up to leave the room. She and Sam sit in silence, the older girl afraid to say anything in fear of upsetting her volatile sister.

Twenty minutes or so later, Detective Bailey returns.

“Before you ladies go, there’s someone here who wants to see you.”

The sisters stand and exit the room per Bailey’s instruction. A blond-haired woman shuffles forward.

Sam’s eyes light up, “Kirby!”

The blond chuckles, “Sam!”

Kirby greets Tara, the small girl giving her a tight-lipped smile in return.

As the two catch-up, the sight of a figure being led in by an officer snags Tara’s attention.

Back with the rest of the group, you remained in your own little bubble while everyone else chatted amongst themselves.

Following the pattern that has been laid out for you, your peace was quickly disturbed.

You had nearly dropped your phone when it rang loudly throughout the Carpenter’s apartment. You answered the call, only to be told by the police that you were to report to the station. The call was kept brief, but you knew the reason behind it nonetheless.

Things only declined from that point forward.

You were nervous, extremely so. You didn’t kill the film teacher, nor did you kill Jason or Greg, but the fact that you were being treated as a suspect for the murders had you anxious enough.

You stood up on shaky legs, fumbling towards the door. Mindy pulled Anika closer to her at your haste, while Chad and Ethan merely side eyed you.

No one said anything as you left, and despite the want to sob into your hoodie, you kept your head high and bit your tongue.

The officer who led you into the station was nice enough, her eyes didn’t scream guilty guilty guilty like your supposed friends’ did.

You kept your eyes firmly on your shoes throughout the walk. A tiny, familiar gasp made you stop short in your path.

You looked up and met Tara’s eyes. You were conflicted at how you felt when you looked at her, your usual longing and adoration joined by several other emotions. Heartache, desolation, and gut-wrenching hurt.

She didn’t say anything to you, just blinked back at you with those gorgeous deep brown eyes, her expression completely unreadable.

You understood well enough that the cops were only aware of your potential involvement because someone had mentioned your name to them. You’d thought that Mindy had somehow silently tipped them off at first and sure, you were wounded by it, but the knowledge that it had been Tara? Well that nearly devastated you beyond repair.

If Mindy giving the police your name was a stab to the heart, then Tara having been the one to do it was six shots to the head and a complete dismemberment of your body.

You were entirely conscious of what the girl had gone through with the Woodsboro attacks, and how her previous girlfriend had been the one behind it all. But even so, was it fair for Tara to be treating you this way?

Since you've fallen for the girl, she’s done nothing but emotionally harm you. It started with her flirtatious teasing that drew you into her like a blissfully unaware moth to a too bright flame. She’d had you hook, line, and sinker, but to worsen your infatuation, she’d kissed you. You were trapped by then, drowning in everything that came in the small package that was Tara Carpenter.

Just as fast as she’d pulled you in, she’d pushed you away. She left you to piece yourself back together, and once you finally repaired the cracks, she was back, admitting that she’d wanted you all along.

And now, immediately after her admission, she’s accusing you of murder.

Though your head spun from the back-and-forth, you knew that you’d stupidly always be patiently waiting for her to reel you back in.

So no, it probably wasn’t fair for Tara to be treating you this way, but it wouldn’t stop you from wanting her all the same. How could you possibly distance yourself from her when she was all that you’d ever wanted?

Your eyes sting with the familiar need to cry at how pathetic you feel. You’re hopelessly in love with the girl who thinks you’ve committed murder. Isn’t that just spect-fucking-tacular.

You throw her a dejected look and allow the officer to continue ushering you into the interrogation room.

If Tara glances your way at any point after your nonverbal interaction, you don’t stop to notice.

You have bigger fish to fry than your ill-advised love for her, like the fact that not only do she and all of your friends see you as a potential murderer, but the NYPD does too.

You’re sitting in the room for a while, left to fester in the stale air. You’ve watched Criminal Minds and Law & Order, you know that this is a common tactic used to make criminals grow skittish. Though you are not a criminal, the biting silence in the room makes the tactic work on you all the same.

Your lip has been chewed raw and as you begin to faintly taste the sharp copper of blood, the heavy door swings open.

Two people walk in, introducing themselves as Detective Bailey and FBI Agent Kirby Reed.

Your skin pales at the title of the woman and the flash of her badge. They’d brought in an FBI Agent to question you?

They pull out the chairs in front of you and take a seat.

Detective Bailey clears his throat, “Y/N, we understand that you’re a friend of Samantha and Tara Carpenter.”

You nod tightly.

“We have reason to believe the sisters are under attack by a copycat Ghostface killer. Are you aware that both Carpenters were recently ambushed at a bodega near their apartment?”

The blood drains from your face at the mention of Ghostface by name. Wait-

“Tara was attacked?”

Kirby and Bailey exchange a look at your failure to include Sam in your question.

You, on the other hand, are mentally losing it. Tara was attacked, she must be so scared, so shaken up. It was easy to be distracted by your own involvement in the attacks, but god, this was Tara’s second time going through it.

Seeing how panicked you are, Kirby has to refrain from placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“She’s okay, Sam too. Just a few cuts and scrapes here and there.”

The fact that she hadn’t been heavily injured comforts you. You nod to Kirby in thanks.

Bailey, on the other hand, doesn’t care too much about your emotions. It’s clear that he’s taken over the bad cop persona, while Kirby plays the good cop.

“So, where were you tonight?”

Oh right, you’re here to be interrogated for murder. Any thoughts of Tara’s wellbeing float away at the reminder that she gave your name to the cops for potential murder.

“I was with Mindy, Anika, Chad, and Ethan, at Sam and Tara’s apartment. I came here as soon as I got the call.”

Bailey grunts and scribbles your response onto the notepad in front of him.

Once he’s done, he lifts his gaze up to meet yours and raises a singular, probing eyebrow.

“And what about last night?”

You bite your lip, suddenly feeling very fidgety.

“I went back to my dorm room and went to sleep.”

“Did anyone else see you? Can anyone confirm that?” Bailey stares you down, a tad bit menacingly.

“My roommate, she saw me this morning before she left.”

Detective Bailey reluctantly accepts your answer, and requests your roommate's contact information to confirm that she’d seen you. You give it to him readily.

Kirby speaks up, voice gentle, “I just have a few more questions, and then we can let you go.”

Something about the way she’s treating you so kindly makes you even more anxious. Whether it’s that or her status as an FBI Agent, you aren’t sure.

She speaks slowly, like your English Lit professor does when she wants the class to catch on to the author’s analogy buried deep beneath the text.

“I specialize in determining whether certain murders have any connection to Ghostface. I know a lot about copycat killers, and what might motivate someone to put on a mask and become a ghostface.”

You get what she’s trying to convey. Boiling it all down, she’s good at telling Ghostface apart from non-ghostfaces. She can tell the guilty apart from the innocent. Wait that means-

Suddenly, you’re no longer scared of Kirby.

Suddenly, you’re hanging off of her every word like she’s a life raft in the middle of a barren ocean. And metaphorically, she is. She’s your last hope in the series of accusing fingers that have been pointed your way.

Her eyes gleam with the sense that you’ve understood her hidden implication.

“So,” she pushes a singular photo in front of you, “Can you tell me who this is?”

The photo in front of you is a movie poster, with all the words edited off. A tall man stares down the camera, complete with blue coveralls and a pale white mask with tufts of hair coming out of the top.

Though you aren’t a huge horror buff, you recognize the character. But is it right to know who he is, or should you lie?

“Um,” you swallow and pause for a second, “That’s Michael Myers, from Halloween.”

Kirby hums, and slides three more photos forward.

The first one has a character that wears a red and green striped sweater, with razors extending from his fingers. Freddy Krueger.

The second picture’s character is donning a menacing grin, and has distinct clown-like makeup on. If the makeup doesn’t give it away, the singular red balloon does. Pennywise.

The third character you are admittedly less familiar with. It’s a bald man with a stark white complexion. A series of nails adorn his head, and he has a long leather getup. In his palm, he displays a glowing box. Pinface? Pinhead?

You lift a sweaty hand to point at the first picture. Your voice is shaky, “Freddy Krueger from The Nightmare on Elm Street.”

You point to the second picture, “The movie IT, it’s Pennywise.”

Finally, your finger lands on the last picture. You’re hesitant, you think you know the answer but you’re still unsure if you should be getting these right or not. Would the killer know all these characters?

“I don’t know the name of the movie. And I’m not entirely sure, but I think that’s Pinhead.”

You think Kirby is pleased with your answer, because she simply collects the pictures and places them back into their folder.

“I know it's a bit of a weird process, but it actually gives me a lot of information. That’s all I need from you, you can go now.”

Kirby’s face remains impassive, not revealing her current thoughts. Detective Bailey, on the other hand, is looking at you with something akin to a scowl.

You stand up, legs slightly wobbly. Kirby and Bailey get up to leave as well. Bailey continues down the hallway while Kirby holds the door for you. Before you can make it fully past the door frame, a strong hand landing on your shoulder makes you jump.

Kirby glances over her shoulder to make sure Bailey is out of earshot. She pulls a card out of her jacket and discreetly slides it into the front pocket of your sweatshirt. “Call me if you need something, or if anything happens. Especially if it’s anything that could be related to you-know-who.”

You look up at her gratefully, nodding. It’s her close-lipped way of saying she trusts you.

She releases your shoulder with a small pat, and you all but scramble out of the police station.

Once outside, you check your phone for any missed messages. Surprisingly, you see one from Mindy, telling you to meet her and everyone else at the park just off of campus.

The same park that led to your Tara-related downward spiral. The same park that was home to the catalyst of your current separation from the rest of the group. Lovely, just lovely.

Reluctantly, you make your way over to the meeting spot, completely unsure of what horrible scenario would be awaiting you this time.

Once at the park, you stop a distance away from the group to take in the scene. They’re seated together on the benches, the only empty seat next to Quinn. Mindy stands front and center, no doubt about to shed her expert wisdom on everyone.

As much as you’d rather turn and walk away, you shuffle forward and make your way over to sit next to Quinn. The group has gone silent at your arrival, but you keep your gaze firmly on your shoes, not wanting to face the judging looks that are being sent your way.

Mindy claps her hands together to break the tense silence, “Okay nerds, listen up. As terrifying as this all is, I’m actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time.”

She takes a deep breath, “The way I see it, someone is out to make a sequel to the requel.”

Anika interrupts with a question, “Um, what’s a requel?”

Mindy gives her a sweet smile, “You’re beautiful sweetie, let’s hold questions til the end.”

After a few comments from Sam and Tara about Stab, Mindy launches into a ramble about sequels and requels and franchises. You’re listening distantly, but are more distracted by the weight of your own exhaustion. Being interrogated by two officers of the law took a lot more out of you than you thought it would.

Your thoughts are placed on a back burner at Ethan’s voice entering the conversation.

“Am I in the friend group?”

Mindy nods, along with a few others.

“Am I-,” his voice breaks slightly, “Am I gonna die a virgin?”

Mindy laughs through her nose, sharing a look with Anika at the boy’s admittance.

“Weird overshare, but that brings us to our suspects.”

You stiffen at the mention of the group’s suspects. So that’s why she’d texted you to come, not just to explain the rules, but to ridicule you in front of everyone.

She gestures towards the flustered boy, “Ethan, the shy dorky kid who no one suspects because he’s so shy and dorky.”

He splutters for a moment, “Wait- I’m a suspect just because I’m Chad’s roommate?”

Mindy scoffs, “Roommate lotteries can be juked, you could’ve fixed it to get closer to us.”

He remains silent, dumbfounded. Mindy moves on.

“Quinn, the slutty roommate, a horror movie classic!”

Quinn arches a perfectly plucked brow, “Sex positive, but thank you?”

Mindy rolls her eyes at the terminology. “How’d you end up rooming with Sam and Tara?”

“I answered their ad online?” She glances at the Carpenters.

“Say no more!” Mindy barks out a laugh, “You’ve already implicated yourself!”

Sam, sensing that Mindy is getting a bit too carried away with her antics steps in, “It was an anonymous ad, Mindy.

Tara nods, “Plus we vetted her, and her dad’s a cop.”

Mindy’s eyes widen and she exclaims, “‘Cuz having a cop dad is the perfect cover, do you not remember how these movies work, Tara?!”

Tara sits back in her seat, huffing.

Mindy shifts her attention to her girlfriend, “Next up, Anika.”

The girl blows her a kiss and Mindy catches it goofily. Her face quickly morphs into a straight look, “Never trust the love interest.”

Anika pales.

“And finally, speaking of love interests.” The horror-loving girl whips to your direction, and regards you more seriously than she had the others. You want nothing more than to shrivel up and shrink down to the size of an ant.

“Y/N, who might I remind everyone, we met while she was wearing a devil costume.”

The feeling of everyone’s eyes burning into you makes you want to throw up.

“We’ve known you the least amount of time, and I can’t be the only one who finds it weird that the only people you’re friends with are here right now. A killer, clearly trying to keep all ties short.”

You flinch and open your mouth to respond, but Mindy continues.

“You were noticeably absent the same night the killings began. And if that doesn’t implicate you enough, your perfect motive will.”

Though you want to scream at how unfair this is, you can only sigh and give in. At this point, you’ve realized there’s nothing you can do to make yourself seem less suspicious. They all think it’s you, so why defend yourself when it would only fall on ears that are unwilling to listen?

“And what would my motive be?”

Mindy grins, victoriously.

“You’re in love with Tara, and not just surface level love, no no no.” She laughs to herself, “You’re actually in love with her, and it goes so far deep that there’s no way out of it.”

The urge to throw up and empty your guts is stronger than ever. You’re pissed, but more so shocked that Mindy has stooped so far as to reveal this to the whole group. And right in front of Tara. She knows now, knows everything. The girl who can’t even decide if she wants to be with you now knows the full extent of your feelings for her. Fucking great.

The last piece of your dignity is gone forever. Mindy speaks again, “She broke your heart when she said she only wanted to be friends. Trampled it even, and you were so upset that you decided to break hers too. Only literally.”

She faces everyone, clearly proud of herself, “There you have it folks, the perfect motive! Break my heart and I’ll break yours, but worse! A flawless romance-horror mashup.”

Everyone remains silent, just blinking at Mindy in astonishment.

Your restrained sniffles break the silence.

You rise, not even bothering to hide your tears or wipe them away. You’re broken, worse than you’ve ever been before.

Before you can stomp away, you meet Mindy’s eyes, letting her see exactly how upset, angry, and ruined you are feeling.

Your tone is even and still as you spit in her direction, “Screw you, Mindy.”

With that, you walk away, uncaring if it makes you look any more suspicious.

Watching as you move further and further away, Mindy finally decides to talk once more.

“I went too far, didn’t I?” She knew she always had a flair for the dramatics and it wasn’t the first time someone had been offended during one of her killer call-outs.

Sam had been the last victim to be scorned by Mindy’s words, “Yeah, yeah I think it’s pretty obvious you went too far Mindy.”

Ever the protective big sister, she glances over at Tara to see how the younger girl has taken the news.

Tara is sat as straight as an arrow, eyes wide and blinking slowly. She looks utterly gobsmacked and as much as a little part of Sam wants to giggle like a child at her sister’s expression, the older and more mature version of her wins over.

“T, you okay?” Her voice is soft like a blanket, a tone she reserves just for Tara.

Tara comes back to life at Sam’s question. She shakes her head heatedly, “No, I’m not okay. Mindy, what the fuck?”

Mindy bristles slightly at Tara’s anger, no one likes being on the receiving end of her chihuahua-like biting remarks.

“Tara I-”

“Mindy, why the hell would you tell everyone that? She told you all of that and you just threw it right in her face?”

Mindy’s silence spurs Tara on.

“It’s one thing to accuse her of being Ghostface but to say all that? Really?”

Tara scoffs and pushes herself out of her seat. She starts striding to catch up with you, to say what exactly, she isn’t quite sure yet, but she’ll figure it out on the way.

To her dismay, a familiar hand catches her wrist and twists her around.

It’s Sam, because who else would chase after an agitated Tara Carpenter?

“Tara, you can’t go after her.”

“She’s upset Sam, and it’s not safe for her to be alone and upset with a killer on the loose.”

Sam frowns, lips almost forming a pout, but nods in agreement. “I know Tara. She’s really upset. But it’s not safe for you to be alone with someone who could very well be the killer.”

Though the shorter girl is still unsure of whether or not you could actually be the one behind the mask, it's the last thing she's thinking of in this moment. A snarl forms on her face, “So you agree with Mindy.”

The older Carpenter is quick to defend herself, “I’m not saying I agree with Mindy, I just don’t think that you and I should split up. Can we keep staying together Tara, please? I can’t let you get hurt again.”

Tara deflates like a balloon, the angry miniature dog that lives in her finally gone. She nods in resignation and lets Sam lead her back to the group.

Meanwhile, you finally make it back to your dorm. You pluck Kirby’s business card out of your pocket and carefully examine it. The only information given is a phone number and her name.

You debate calling her for a moment, maybe you’d be able to find some comfort in the agent. She was the only one who didn’t think you were Ghostface, after all.

You decide against it, choosing to instead stew in your overwhelming emotions. You’d finally been granted time to process the onslaught of events, a brief calm in the inevitable storm.

Just as it was weeks before, your bed remains your safe space. You move to plug your phone into your charger, but stop short upon seeing a message.

Tara: hey, we’re making dinner at the apt and having evryone stay over tn.

Tara: u should come

The invitation leaves you frozen for a minute. Why would she want you to stay over with everyone else? Was this some sick move for her to corner you and reject you once and for all?

You aren’t sure what to respond with, so you leave her text unanswered. You can’t think rationally right now, so you plug your phone in, lay your head on your pillow, and succumb to the swirl of your emotions.

You lay there, staring up at your ceiling and sobbing, for what must be a few hours. Your friends think you’re a killer, and Tara knows the full extent of your love for her.

Your phone, ever the annoyance, interrupts your breakdown with the alert of an incoming call.

Groaning, you roll over and pick it up without looking.

“Hello?,” your hoarse voice croaks out.

“Why hello, Y/N. About time we talked, don’t you think?”

The voice is teasing, like it’s somehow toying with you.

A chill shoots up your spine, and you sit up against your headboard. You sort of recognize the voice, but you can’t place how you know it.

“Who’s this?”

A laugh rings out and it somehow freaks you out even more.

“Since I like you, I’ll give you a hint. What’s your favorite scary movie?”

You drop your phone onto your lap and scramble away from it, as if it was purely responsible for how terrified you feel.

Shit, shit, shit.

Back when you were avoiding everyone, Mindy had insisted for you to watch Stab 1 with her, since you’d never seen it before. You tried to refuse, but she shut you up with just one look. Rolling your eyes, you allowed her to put the movie on.

Though she was providing commentary throughout the entire opening, you’d heard the voice that had spoken with Casey Becker on the phone.

You heard Casey’s killer ask her the same question you’d just been asked.

Fuck.

It was him, somehow, someway, he’d gotten your number and was calling you.

You were on the phone with none other than Ghostface.

Shit.

The person on the line chuckles, their altered voice muffled because of the way the phone is being pressed into your comforter, “Now I’ve got your attention.”

With trembling hands, you pick your phone up. “What do you want with me?”

“To thank you. Y’know because of you, I get a little more wiggle room. More time to be off on my own, carving up another person or two, or planning out exactly how I’m going to kill Tara.”

“Leave her alone!”

“Oooh feisty, but not a chance. I think I’ll burn her alive and shoot her in the head, just like she did to Amber.”

“Amber was a psycho and so are you!”

“Maybe, but you’re the one who everyone thinks is psycho.”

Clenching your fists, you remain silent.

Ghostface continues, “I think I’ve decided I want to play a little game. A new game I made just for you.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, full of pure fear. “I’m not playing any games.”

“Too bad. It’s a guessing game, it’s simple really. You guess if I’m in your bathroom waiting to spill your guts all over the place, or if I’m under Tara’s bed, ready to slice through her skin at any second.”

Your blood runs cold as you turn towards the tiny bathroom connected to your dorm room. The door is shut, and an eerie silence fills the room. Ghostface could be in there right now, and you’d be dead in seconds. Worse, he could be biding his time for the perfect time to strike an unsuspecting Tara.

“Tick tock,” the killer sings.

You steel yourself and cautiously position yourself upright, ready to bolt towards your door.

“You’re in my bathroom, come out and get me you fucker.”

The bathroom door stays shut, and you’re left poised in a tense position, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, I’m afraid you’re wrong.” Oh god.

“Don’t hurt her!”

“I have to. We have unfinished business.” The words are spat out, clearly in raw anger.

The teasing tone plays through the voice modulator once more, “Thanks for being apart from everyone again, it really helps that you’re always able to take the fall for me.”

Ghostface ends the call. You clamber out of bed, toss on the nearest pair of shoes, and sprint out of the door, though not before grabbing the 3.5 x 2 inch card off of your dresser.

While racing like a madman to the Carpenter’s apartment, you dial Kirby’s number.

After one ring, she picks up. “Agent Reed.”

“Kirby!” You’re panting as you hurry along.

“Y/N?”

“Yes! Kirby you have to get to Tara and Sam’s now! Ghostface is there.”

You can faintly make out her rustling around, likely collecting her jacket and gun.

“I’m on my way. What happened, how do you know?”

“He called me, Kirby. He’s setting me up!”

“Shit, okay get there as soon as you can.”

“I’m trying!”

This can’t happen to you, not again. Your stupid emotions about everyone thinking you were guilty fucked things up even more. If they didn’t hate you and suspect you before, your absence now definitely cements your fate.

Your only hope is to make it there in time to help defend against Ghostface.

But alas, luck isn’t on your side. When you arrive at the Carpenter’s apartment, you’re met with yellow caution tape and the flashing red and blue lights of both ambulances and police cars.

Too little, too late.

You aren’t even sure what to do, not knowing if it’s better for you to turn and walk away, or to feebly defend yourself like a broken record. You see a body bag being rolled by on a stretcher, and the sight of it makes everything that you’re feeling so much worse.

One of your friends is dead.

You aren’t angry at them for how they treated you anymore, how they turned their backs on you so quickly. You can’t be angry. Not when someone died at the hands of whoever was behind this. Not when you’re being so cruelly reminded that this isn’t a petty fight, or a game night squabble.

One of your friends is dead.

You’re sad, instead. So immensely sad. And scared, your limbs still shake from the residual fear leftover from the phone call. The killer was taunting you on the phone, so shouldn’t you have been the next one to go? Whoever died didn’t deserve to, not while you just got to freely exist.

But like Mindy had said, you’ve been brought into a franchise, and everyone has a role in a franchise. Your friend is now nothing more than a notch under the famed killer’s belt, a tally for the rankings of a video titled ‘which slasher villain has the highest kill count?’

And your role?

You’re the killer’s toy, their beat-up ragdoll held together by loosened strings that they’d stopped caring about years ago, but still blame for every mess they create.

You’re the scapegoat, the one to blame, traveling down a path of loneliness and carrying around the killer’s sins for all to judge you for. Just when your innocence is proven, you’ll die, a sacrifice the killer is all too happy to make.

You sigh heavily, the weight of your thoughts resting deeply on your shoulders. You can’t feel sorry for yourself though. Not when you’re still alive, still breathing.

You can’t walk away, because running from your problems has just made everything worse.

The cops are distracted, so you slide underneath the caution tape. You sluggishly drag your feet towards the ambulance, further into the throng.

Mindy’s sitting in the back of the vehicle, a blanket wrapped around her shivering form.

You approach her, moving as shakily as a baby deer.

She sees you out of the corner of her eye. You watch as hers widen exponentially, “Stay the fuck back.”

You halt. The fearful and disgusted look in her eyes at the sight of you swallows you whole.

Tears cloud your vision, “Are you okay?”

She remains quiet, just staring at you, unblinking.

“Dumb question.”

Mindy blinks again.

You don’t know what to say, and you don’t get a chance to. You’re being ripped away from Mindy, met with Sam’s blazing eyes.

You can just barely see Tara behind her, looking smaller than ever.

Sam grips your chin, forcing you to look up at her.

“Where the fuck were you?” She barks.

The murderous glare she’s leveling you with has you shrinking into your skin. “I- I was in my room.”

“Liar!”

“Sam, please. You have to believe me, I’m not lying.” You’re crying now, because she’s still looking at you like an untamed beast waiting to rip your heart out.

Near blubbering, you continue, “He called me, Ghostface called me.”

The reminder of how scared and alone you felt on the phone with Ghostface makes your cry even harder, and Sam softens slightly, albeit still glaring at you.

“What’d he say?”

“He thanked me for helping him look less suspicious. He said it gave him more time to plan his next kills.” It’s a conscious decision not to include that he’d specifically mentioned how he’d kill Tara. Sam would rip your head off right on the spot.

She stares at you, trying to decipher if you’re telling the truth.

You heave in a breath, preparing yourself to finish your recount, “He made me play a guessing game. He told me to guess whether he was waiting to kill me, or Tara.”

Sam is scarily still. In the distance, you can see Chad harshly slamming Ethan into a van.

If Sam, Tara, Mindy, Chad, and Ethan are here, then that leaves…

Quinn. And Anika. God.

If you weren’t about to be strangled by Sam, you’d likely curl into a ball and sob at the knowledge that the two girls you’d seen earlier today are gone.

You’d beg and plead with Sam if it meant she’d believe you. “I ran here as soon as I realized he was gonna hurt her. You have to believe me.”

You stare up at her with shiny eyes, praying she accepts your story.

Without warning, you’re released from the death grip that she had on you. Sam backs away from you without saying a word, slinking back towards Tara.

You meet the younger Carpenter’s gaze for one brief second, before you tear your eyes away. You couldn’t afford to decipher how she currently felt towards you. It hurt enough to be painted as the killer, you didn’t need her rejection of your love for her to pile up on top of your already too intense hurt.

From your spot alone, in the middle of the group, you can hear Mindy telling an apologetic Ethan to get away from her. She tells him how the two of you are at the top of her list, and that she didn’t need either of you near her ever again.

Though you aren’t part of the conversation, her words still bruise. You might’ve called her your best friend once, probably still would, but she’d forever condemn your name.

You wallow in your sorrow while Gale shows up, sharing a regretful exchange with the two sisters. Kirby comes soon after, also checking up on the Carpenters.

Gale announces to everyone that she’s found what’s likely the killer’s hideout, and everyone silently follows along while she leads the way.

You walk a ways behind the group, arms wrapped around your own waist both defensively and protectively. A firm body knocks their shoulder against yours, breaking you out of your daze.

Kirby levels you with a worried look, “You good kid?”

“Don’t worry about me, ask the others.”

She clicks her tongue at your response, “Already did, now I wanna know how you’re doing.”

You reach a hand up and drag it through your hair, “Mindy hates me, probably Chad too by association. I can’t tell how Sam feels, if she thinks it’s me or not. And I can’t even bring myself to look at Tara, let alone ask her if she thinks I’m out to murder her.”

Kirby shoots you a sympathetic look, “That’s a lot for one person to deal with.”

You shrug, “Yeah well, nothing I can do about that.”

The two of you finish the walk towards the abandoned theater in silence.

Before you enter, Kirby places a hand on your arm to stop you.

“We’re gonna catch who’s behind this eventually. Why don’t you stick with me for the time being?”

Your eyes light up, “I’d love that.”

And truthfully you would. Staying by Kirby’s side will not only be comforting, but will also ensure that you’re no longer left to accidentally fall into a situation that makes you look guilty. For the first time since all of this started, you feel seen, like you finally have a friend that’s on your side.

She smiles at you and the two of you enter the theater. You soon realize that it’s less of a theater, and more of a shrine dedicated to the Ghostfaces of the past.

Everyone fans out to inspect the items. You’re stuck to Kirby’s side like glue, inching your way towards a display case.

She carefully places her hands atop the case, scanning her eyes across the items.

Pointing out a few items, she speaks out to no one in particular. “Charlie stabbed me with that knife, and that’s the same flannel Jill was wearing.”

You hum sadly, what she went through must have been so horrible.

The rest of the visit to the shrine is lonely for you. Kirby leaves to bond with Mindy, then to check on Tara. You’re left to stand in a corner, trying to blend in with the shadows.

When Kirby returns, the group clusters together, forming a plan.

As you sit by Kirby’s side in the van, the plan quickly goes to shit. The killer’s call is traced back to Gale’s apartment, leaving the Carpenter sisters to race to her rescue.

You and Kirby head back to the precinct for a while, where she combs through her files once more. She gets a call about a new plan, and the two of you hop back into her car, headed back towards the abandoned theater.

Sam, Tara, and Chad stand outside.

Chad points to you, where you’re standing by Kirby’s side. “Is it safe for her to come in with us?”

You swallow at his retort.

Kirby calmly comes to your defense, “Safer than leaving her alone, yes. Where’s Mindy?”

Sam explains that Mindy got separated and had to take a different train with Ethan.

Kirby quirks an eyebrow, “Okay, well it’s better if we wait inside.”

The others go their separate ways, leaving you and Kirby to stand by the door. She double checks the ammunition in her gun, and makes sure her bulletproof vest is intact.

A few minutes pass where you’re left to sit and wait. With Kirby distracted with her gun and you distracted with your thoughts, neither of you notice the figure creeping up behind her.

Kirby falls to the ground, groaning before she falls unconscious. Before you can think of screaming, you’re hit hard in the back of the head.

You land next to Kirby on the ground, head spinning as your world fades to black.

You’re groggy as you wake, but you quickly notice that Kirby is nowhere to be found. You stand and take a minute to regain your bearings.

Once you’ve calmed down, you start to make out the faint sounds of voices in the main room. You slowly approach, stopping dead in your tracks once you see what’s going on.

Sam and Tara are clutching bricks, trying to defend themselves from Quinn and Ethan, who are wearing the ghostface robes and taunting the sisters with knives.

Detective Bailey stands in front of them, waving around a gun as he monologues.

To your dismay, Quinn notices you.

“Well, if it isn’t our favorite accomplice.”

Bailey turns to face you, grinning.

“Come on over, join us!”

The rest of the group can’t see from where his back is turned, but his gun is aimed at you and his eyes are threatening. You comply, terrified as you inch forward.

When you’re within reach, Bailey reaches out and wraps an arm tightly around your shoulders, the force of his arm nearly knocking the wind out of you.

He turns to taunt the two sisters, “We couldn’t have done it without her. Your little girlfriend was a great help, Tara.”

Sam and Tara look shocked and then betrayal fills their eyes.

You’re confused, caught up in fear and panic.

Sam’s scoffs, “You needed four people just to take me out? That’s pathetic.”

Only now do you realize what’s going on. Bailey’s making it seem like you’ve been helping them all along, still not allowing you to be innocent.

Your eyes are wide and begging for the umpteenth time, “Wait, I didn’t help them!”

Ethan rolls his eyes, a tiny hidden smirk on his face, “Drop the act! This is the fun part Y/N, remember? Like we talked about.”

You try to wiggle out of Bailey’s grip, but he’s unwavering.

Your struggling causes you to meet Tara’s eyes. She looks devastated, like her worst thoughts were coming to life.

“Let me go! I didn’t help them, Tara please! Please it wasn’t me! They’re lying!”

Your cheeks are wet with your tears.

Bailey looks between you and Tara for a second before a smirk slowly spreads across his face.

“Well Tara, it looks like it’s up to you.” He tucks his gun into his waistband and pulls out a knife.

He gestures to you with the knife, “Girlfriend, or killer?”

The knife presses against your abdomen, ready to strike.

Time pauses for a second, while your eyes are locked on Tara’s. You’re pleading, the most desperate you’ve been up to this point. Your life is quite literally on the line, and if Tara chooses not to trust you, you’re dead.

Her mouth is agape, opening and closing, as she glances to Sam for help. Sam shakes her head and mouths a trust no one to her sister.

Tara remains conflicted.

Bailey growls, “Girlfriend or killer, Tara. Choose one.”

Tara’s gaze hardens, but you can still see how her eyes are flitting around worriedly.

She’s biting her lip hard.

You decide to try to sway her one more time, this is the girl you love, who knows how much you love her, though not by your choice. You don’t know if she returns your feelings, but this isn’t the time to be fearful of rejection. At least if she still doesn’t believe your innocence, you’ll die knowing you did everything you could to save yourself.

You don’t sound desperate anymore, just broken. “Tara, I- I love you. And I wouldn’t do this to you, or Sam, or any of our friends. You know me better than anyone else, so you should know I’m telling the truth. I have been all along.”

The room is still and silent.

Tara looks into your eyes, and whatever it is she sees, it makes her finally open her mouth to respond. She’s looking right at you as she speaks, “I believe you.”

It’s then that the room erupts into chaos.

You’re blinded with pain as Bailey’s knife enters your insides and twists around.

“You got it right Tara, but you’re too late.”

The knife is pulled out and thrusted back in. A trail of blood leaks out of your mouth.

Quinn and Ethan laugh. Tara’s screams ring loudly throughout the shrine, but she is held from running towards you by Sam.

You’ve lost track of how many times the knife has entered your body. The pain is so intense that you can’t even feel it anymore.

Your vision is spotty, and you slide limply out of Bailey’s grip to crash unceremoniously to the ground.

You’re left to wonder why no one’s ever said how sickening it is to feel your own life draining from your body. Maybe because they didn’t live to retell the pain?

As your eyes drift shut, you think back to the first night you’d met Tara. How you found her to be so alluring, so painstakingly beautiful. You remember the offhand internal comment you made after hours of blushing under her relentless teasing, when you’d said to yourself that this girl would someday be the death of you.

You’d laugh at the irony if you had enough energy to do so.

With the hopes of being reincarnated into a simpler life, you finally stop fighting death’s cold grasp and allow yourself to fade away.

And fade away you do.

Until the paramedics are pumping you full of drugs, their arms flying around you with practiced precision. They’re stitching, and bandaging, and doing everything they can to save your life.

Somehow, someway, they do it. They save you.

A week later, your eyes open for the first time.

The room is empty, your only company being a vase full of wilted flowers.

You’re covered by a thin blue blanket from the waist down. You’d reach down and assess the damage, but your arms don’t want to cooperate, still too weak to comply with your brain’s request.

Besides, you’re alive, shouldn’t that be all that matters?

It’s then that you hear two voices out in the hallway, growing louder as they likely approach your room.

The door opens, and you suck in a breath. It’s Sam and Tara, the latter of the two clutching a fresh bouquet of flowers in her uninjured arm.

They haven’t noticed you’re awake yet, still continuing their previous conversation.

“Hi.” You mentally kick yourself for always having the most awkward greetings.

They gasp and turn to face you.

“You’re awake!” Tara flies towards you and carefully embraces you, mindful of your barely healed injuries. You make a small noise in response, though eventually slowly lift your arms to return the hug.

Sam leaves to go inform the nurse of your condition.

The small girl pulls away to set the flowers down, before moving to gingerly sit on the side of the bed.

She lifts a hand to cup your face, silently stroking your cheek with her thumb.

“I owe you a huge apology,” she begins.

You shake your head, “We have plenty of time to talk about that, let’s just exist for now, yeah?”

She nods, big brown eyes scanning your face nervously. You watch curiously, as she seemingly works up some confidence.

“Is it true, what Mindy said?”

You pale, and meekly nod your head, knowing she’s referring to when Mindy exposed your love for her.

She’s launching herself towards you again, stopping with her lips mere millimeters away from your lips, a silent question of permission lurking in her eyes.

You glance down at her lips, wondering if they’re as soft as they were the first time you’d kissed her.

She takes that as your answer, and closes the gap. You’re drowning again, in everything that is Tara Carpenter, but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

There’d be time to talk later, to work through your issues of trust with her and everyone else, but for now?

You were perfectly content with the blissful feeling of being consumed by Tara, of her expressing everything left unsaid with just her lips.

You’re scarred and hurt, beaten and bruised, but none of it matters.

You’re kissing Tara, and she’s enough. More than that, she’s all you’ll ever need.

Bonus note: Everyone thank @cartierdreamx for the happy ending, as much as I love it, r's death would've really fueled the evil angst rat that lives inside of me. Send me your thoughts, I'm so excited to hear what you all think after reading!

Taglist: @thenextdawn @dreifhraniquo29 @fanboy7794 @thelonewriter247 @simp4natasha @cartierdreamx @btay3115 @friedryes @bananasplits-world @alexkolax @ordelixx @adaydreamaway08 @youralphawolf72

As always, so sorry if I forgot to add anyone to the list that asked to be added! I tried my best to add everyone!! <3

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you #scream fanfic #devil likes the pirate series #lonelym00n fic

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st4rrygrl · 3 months ago

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The blatant lies in plagues (@/blood.plagues) "explanation" and more allegations. (Part 2)

Welcome back to the series of us sharing what we love about plague /sar. In the time period between this post and the one before it, we've found out more things that are either insane or just questionable.

1) Ableism.

This made me laugh when I first saw it as literally one simple google search and maybe 15 minutes of research could easily disprove this. According to this article by Mclean Hospital,

"BPD is a personality disorder that has historically been diagnosed in adults. However, despite the common misconception that BPD does not occur in those younger than 18, a significant body of evidence suggests it is possible for children and adolescents to begin to develop BPD before age 18.

Neither the current Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) nor the older versions of the DSM prohibit the diagnosis of BPD in young people.

According to BPD expert Blaise Aguirre, MD, “It is outrageous to think a clinician would not diagnose BPD when a person is seventeen years and 364 days old and then diagnose it the next day when the teen turns eighteen.”

Because teen personalities are still forming, young people may undergo many changes before they’re considered an adult. Mood swings, instability, and other symptoms may be a sign of hormonal fluctuations, stress, or anxiety.

Those who are experiencing symptoms of borderline personality disorder need help—don’t wait to seek care in the hopes that a behavior is “just a phase” or “they’ll grow out of it.”"

And that's just the first thing that comes up on google. Even if plague didn't know about this, it's reckless behaviour to fake claim someone who you aren't even in contact with, and double down on it when a simple google search would've told you that getting a diagnosis at 12 is in fact, possible.

This screenshot is even more disturbing than the last ones, he's straight-up mocking someone with down syndrome for literally no reason. There is no way to justify this, and the only way you could try to is if he was "ignorant" which would be a disgusting excuse, and mean nothing at the same time.

He cannot keep blaming everything on his "ignorance", his "dark and sexual humor", or the fact that he asked for permission. These need ACTUAL explanations describing exactly what was going on through his head while saying these. It doesn't matter if these were private conversations either-- it's still sickening to look at. Again, there's literally no way you could explain or defend this screenshot, it's actually heinous.

2) Plague's ignorance/Our statements.

In response to the screenshot of plague saying a slur he cannot reclaim, @/twproxy made a post addressing it. In the post, they shared this screenshot:

And I just wanted to offer my thoughts on this since this seems to be a very common pattern with Plague.

Even if these were private dms and that according to @/twproxy, people (lesbians) can't feel offended (even if the slur is offensive) because it wasn't directed at them, it's still reckless behaviour. Just the idea that he said a slur and had to be educated by people a decade younger than him is ridiculous. He's not a kid, he should know better. He could easily blame all of these screenshots, and this ENTIRE situation on him being ignorant, but we all know that's not true.

The slur was clearly said in a manner that meant it to be derogatory, anyone who can critically think can see that. Also like... it's clearly referring to lesbians (meaning that bisexual people can't reclaim it). Unless he's actually dumb and dense, he would realize that "hey! maybe that's a slur, let me search it up first to make sure!" but no, instead, he called a minor a slur that he cannot reclaim. What I'm trying to say is that he could easily be lying about this and just say "that he didn't know" to get them off of his back.

I'm not involved with this situation, nor do I know anyone who is, so maybe, just maybe there is in fact context I am missing. Maybe they said that he can call them slurs, which would be fine I guess. But to a regular person, this entire situation is just insane. From calling a 15 year old a derogatory slur he cannot reclaim, to pretending that he didn't know what it meant.

I wanted to talk about this in the post about him replying to his racism allegations, but I let Laila handle that one first. What I wanted to mention was how absurd it was that Plague saw a video of someone crying their eyes out about racism, and saw how clearly it affected them personally, and instead of apologizing like a normal person, he decided to "defend" himself by lying through his teeth.

I can't even find a word to describe that behaviour other than UNREAL. You SAW how your words affected people. and you wanted to double down on it and defend yourself instead of just admitting that you made a mistake and apologizing????

3) Plague using minors to defend himself.

It's also ridiculous how plague has minors writing posts defending him on tumblr instead of just addressing the allegations himself. It's pathetic and predatory to have minors do your dirty work. We won't share the screenshots unless we absolutely need to, to keep the people involved safe; but we were sent a pretty alarming piece of information. Plague has allegedly repeatedly asked one of his moderators to make a video about the situation to defend him.

I'll state it again, this is predatory behaviour. Minors shouldn't be fighting his battles and deal with the backlash. The longer Plague stays silent about this, the worse it's gonna get.

#creepypasta #creepypasta community #creepypasta fandom #ticci toby #tiktok #drama #blood.plague #artwork #ticci toby cosplay #cosplay #im aware this is just internet drama but we dont care #please stop defending this freak #important #news #blood plague #tobias rogers

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strqyr · 7 months ago

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Ngl, to me, Ozpin is so, so interesting, but not just regarding his reincarnation and past lives (though those Are very interesting). Like,, it's said that Ozpin became Headmaster at a young age and was a 'prodigy'. And based on the information we have on his age, that being younger than Theodore who's in his mid-late 40s, it's so interesting to consider exactly HOW young he mightve been. I'm willing to bet, based on appearance and facts, that he was probably 37-39 when he died, maybe very early 40s at the oldest. N like. That says that at the absolute youngest, he was probably 20 when he became Headmaster, and like, 24 at the oldest.

Which is like. That's WILD to me? I'm sure it's more likely he was 22-24 when he became Headmaster, but that's RIGHT AFTER he would get his Huntsman license, if he got it all naturally. If his last incarnations circle had kids and They knew (I wouldn't be surprised, it'd be juicy), and they were in high places, it's entirely possible that he got into that position earlier than he should have, possibly Unwillingly. I'm sure it's not canon, but I feel like that's WAY juicier than just "He got into the Headmaster position on his own by his own choice". Besides, I doubt the KoV would've wanted Ozpin to get shoved into such a position, if we can base how he mightve been on how Ozpin acts (merge n all).

Like. Idk I feel like Ozpin, the life and the incarnation, is So interesting especially if all this is true? Plus Oz parallels Pyrrha so I feel like him getting shoved into a position he didn't initially want would only hammer that in more. I am DESPERATE for a rwby spinoff that focuses on STRQ and Ozpin 🙏

i absolutely need to know how old ozpin was exactly when he became the headmaster of beacon and it will forever be one of my biggest frustrations with rwby that they never give their adult characters exact ages like please, i need to know 😭

but just by doing detective work, it's like. okay, in the novels he's said to be the youngest headmaster beacon has had, but in the show it's said he was one of the youngest headmasters, no specific academy mentioned, so i don't think he was like. impossibly young? he's a licensed huntsman, so prodigy or not, he likely would have gone through one of the academies and graduating first.

now, my own little pet theory is that ozma doesn't reincarnate into warriors—take a look at his known reincarnations, and none of them come across as having had any training before he popped into their head—so i'm thinking that ozpin wasn't attending an academy when that happened, which also leaves the door open that he could have been younger than 17 when he did—meaning that in addition to pyrrha, he might also parallel ruby, the two people he chose in one way or another—and during that time not only was he training (and gaining the muscle memory from ozma), but he was also prepared for the role of the headmaster by the inner circle members the king of vale left behind (since he's mentioned as ozpin's predecessor).

he was also already the headmaster of beacon when team strq was on their first year, so i'm thinking he's like... maybe 2-4 years older than them? which would put him at early-to-mid forties at the time of his death (depending on how old team strq are), which would still put him as younger than theodore, who is in his mid-to-late forties, maybe early fifties according to yatsuhashi.

but hard agree on team strq spinoff. for me that has always been about more than just strq—though it goes without saying that's obviously where my bias lies lol—, it's also about ozpin and how he formed his inner circle around him because all of them—especially the headmasters—were like. his friends? these are not people chosen by his predecessor, these people were chosen by him and i need to know and see how that happened and how ozpin handled it all like did he go through the same awkwardness as oscar where people older and more experienced than him looked at him like he should know what to do??

there's just so much there to dig into and i must have it. please.

#rwby #ozpin #nightmare-foundation #ask.strqyr #losing sleep thanks to generation strq since day 1 of their existence

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woneuntonzz · 9 months ago

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what's it like to love ? 𓇢𓆸

anton lee x afab!reader (part 3/5)

• part 1

• part 2

• part 4

• part 5

warnings: cussing!

genre: fluff -`♡´- highschool love

word count: 3k words!!

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ description: student athlete!anton x studious class officer!reader | you swore to yourself, to you friends and even to your parents “I'm not one to easily fall.” and you thought you were that tough, not until him of course. [note!!: hiii i'd just like to quickly say that this is my first ever post ever and i'm still a bit insecure with my writing, and english is not my first language so bare with me now 🙏 open for any forms of feedback please do take note that i will take longer to update/respond to anything because of school, thank you!!! ]

[Days 2 - 4]

Friday and Saturday flew over you like a breeze. You've convinced yourself time and time again during those two lengthy days of him not being around was not gonna be a problem for you at all. You were definitely happy to see him, you wanted to see him, but you didn't need to.

Though you yourself thought you were doing a great job of making it seem like his absence didn't bother you at all, Xen, Sohee, and your other friends could see right through your thin, glass barriers.

“You're gonna see him again by the end of the week anyways, so what's the big deal?” it was lunch time, you sat with your girlfriends —including Xen— and it was Minjeong who had spewed an attempt to lighten up your mood.

“Yeah I guess so. I feel so crazy right now, you have no clue.” your voice was low, almost like a mimicry of his voice.

“Uh, yeah, we see and hear crazy very clearly.” your friends laughed at Xen's banter whilst you remained seated there with a downturned smile being slightly pushed around by your guffawing friends.

You couldn't help but just laugh at the other-worldly noises coming from your friends. Yeah, it's not a big deal. I'm fine, I'm happy with my friends beside me. —you thought to yourself as you looked at your friends with so much warmth in your heart.

“But in all seriousness, I kinda get you too, you know. When my crush is not around I go nutsy-koo-koo all of a sudden, but then I see you guys and I'm like, I don't need him.” Liz had her arms crossed, a cheeky expression melding onto her face towards the end of her sentence.

“Wait, you basically just said that Y/n has a crush on Anton now too.” Everyone gasped at Danielle's words.

They playfully touched you around, one of them twirling your hair in her fingers and the other wrapping an arm around your shoulder and lightly squeezing you

“Do I?” Is all you could reply as you stared into the left-over food on your tray.

“Girl, just eat, we'll finish discussing this later —you need your nutrients!”

Anton did stay true to his words. He messaged you that Friday night, and by Saturday, he was messaging you during his breaks too.

If your past self from two days ago saw these messages now, she would've put herself into rehab. The thought that you seemed to be falling more and more each day too quickly crossed your mind, but it was merely a fly buzzing around in your brain. Needless to say, you were truly just going with the flow.

————— ୨୧ —————

You would soon find yourself in a group vc with Xen and Sohee who were both in their own homes, waiting for Anton to message you again. All three of you had workloads to finish, your school was quite the fiesty one making sure to leave their students with a week's worth of schoolwork and studies before going on to say “enjoy your weekends.” and watching as the students dragged their tired and anxious asses out of that school.

“Anton has had a crush on you for a long time now. Are you even still just a crush to him?” Sohee was in the process of writing a hand-written essay when he spoke, still concentrating on making his handwriting comprehensible at the very least.

“Well, he did say he likes me. Isn't that an entirely different thing?” you reply, also busy paraphrasing and typing down information for an infographics project.

“You said he mentioned that you're his 'long-time crush', right?” Xen was just smiling at the two of you once she lifted her head up from what she was doing.

“Well it's all just words. The word 'crush' is used for everything nowadays, right?” Sohee was quick to turn his attention to his girlfriend, interested in what she has to say. “Some guys would say, 'Oh, I have a crush on this girl.' but could barely care about the girl —but what I'm trying to say is, the word crush doesn't really lay flat at a certain degree, whether it be just infatuation or true love.”

You found yourself nodding hearing the reassurance from your friend.

“Mhmm~ that's true. I have a crush on Xen and I am madly in love with her.” Xen laughed at Sohee's remark, making you smile at the sight of the two, just being in love.

Xen has always been a sort of anti-male, with the exception of her boyfriend and other men she trusts within her circle of friends and family. You ended up developing the same feelings after a lot of boy troubles throughout middle school to your freshman year. One of your most cherished memories was when you got played by a boy who swore to you that you were his everything, saying "I love you." from the very first day and continuing to talk to other girls throughout the entire time he was trying to get under your pants. Of course he was unsuccessful, and so he broke up with you, called you useless even. Xen comforted you and begged the classmate who sat next to you to switch seats with her for a while so she could be right next to you the entire time.

“You know, men can be very disgusting. Never think about that fucking asshole again, okay? He's not worth even a second of your thoughts. There are a lot of good people in this world, and they will always find their way to each other, like perfectly fitting puzzle pieces. You're a wonderful person Y/n, and someone just as kind and truthful as you will come finding their way to you.”

These were Xen's words that stuck to you like a virtue. You learned to be patient and to just enjoy life as it is, trying to improve yourself day by day. You were young after all, so if Anton turned out to be insincere, it's not the end of the world.

“Oh wait, Anton just messaged me.” Xen and Sohee snapped their heads at you.

“Oh, so should we invite him in or—”

“No, no, just keep doing what you're doing. I'll go now, thanks for everything guys, I love you both so much!” you were quick to interrupt Sohee, but the tempo of your speaking was a lot quicker, enough for the couple to pick up on what was going on.

“Yeah, okay, enjoy your talk with Ant!” you heard Xen coo at you before you left the call.

You fixed your stuff, putting it all away neatly and tidying up your study table before jumping onto your bed and resting your back on your bed's headboard with your legs stretched out.

You had a weak smile on. Anton had long days of training, while still having to catch up with the school workload for the sake of maintaining decent grades. He was definitely more tired than you were, and you felt like it should be the other way around, that you should be the one to soothe him.

Well of course you were completely unaware of it, but being able to talk to you was enough to bring his mind to peace. He needed nothing more but to be able to converse with you about anything and everything.

Your laughter turned into you biting onto your bottom lip, your cheekbones flying up as you suppress a squeal. You gave yourself a mental slap in the face and figured you're getting way too ahead of yourself. You listen to Arctic Monkeys quite often, so you figured you could use them as an excuse to hide your agitated state.

You gulped, lips pursed as you waited for his response. You anxiously watched the typing status, waiting for it to disappear and for Anton's message to pop up.

Your smile dropped a bit, but you understood. You've established respect for each other's boundaries, and you didn't want to break something so precious like that.

The conversation went on for quite a while, and once it ended, the two of you went on to stare at your ceilings, glee and excitement rushing over your bodies —glee from the the things you two talked about and the inside jokes made along the way, and excitement knowing that you'll both be seeing each other the next day again, finally.

————— ୨୧ —————

You were in the car with Xen, Sohee, and Xen's mom; Mrs. Park. Your eyes wandered everywhere on the streets as the car moved.

“Did Xen tell you that she and Anton were in the same orchestra in middle school?” your eyelids moved further apart when you heard what Mrs. Park just said.

“Orchestra? Anton was in an orchestra?” Mrs. Park giggled at your confusion.

“Yes, he's quite the cellist.” Mrs. Park held a grin, eyeing you from the rear-view mirror.

“Wow. I didn't know that. I never would've guessed. I thought he's just always been a swimmer.” you uttered in awe, gradually becoming quieter as you progressed with your words.

“Well I wouldn't be surprised. Anton isn't very out-going. He doesn't approach people much, but people approach him.” The endearing tone in Mrs. Park's voice was enough to indicate that she's quite fond of Anton. “Do you like him?”

Your posture stiffened from hearing Xen's mom ask you the very question you've been asking yourself for the past few days.

You spent months trying to build even the slightest bit of connection with this boy, and within those months you yearned for a reason as to why he avoided you like you were the biggest threat to his life. At some point, you started wondering, were you yearning for the truth or were you yearning for him? The answer was vague for you at that time, but now, you are so close to coming to terms with what you truly feel.

“I —well, I don't really know yet.” you released an unusual amount of breath as you spoke and you saw Mrs. Park reading through it like a book.

“Anton confessed to her, mom, and I'd say they're doing pretty great.” Xen excitedly clapped like a seal turning to her left to face her mom.

“Oh, is that so?” you nodded your head slowly, feeling a bit shy. “Are you two talking now?”

Your conversations for the past few days started to fill your mind. You felt the blood rising up to your cheeks as you went over every emotion you felt while talking to Anton. You told Xen's mom every detail about how much bolder Anton got when messaging you contrary to him struggling to hold eye contact with you without blushing.

“I believe I know both of you well enough to assess this situation.” followed by a long and soft hum, Mrs. Park searched for the words to express her thoughts about your situation. “You two are gonna be very happy. Of course, life has its ups and downs, I know both of you know that very well already, I just wish for the two of you to never forget that the downs are temporary, and it's where we grow stronger, where we learn.”

You adored the way Xen and her mom conveyed their feelings, how even if you've heard the same words, the same advice over and over again, they never failed to console you.

————— ୨୧ —————

With your arms linked with Xen's, you started walking to the main entrance of the stadium, Mrs. Park and Sohee followed closely behind. Your eyes followed the people going in and out of the stadium, and as promised, you messaged Anton when you got to your seats.

Anton's face lit up the moment he saw your message on his notifications. He looked over towards a specific row of seats he had told Xen and Sohee to take you to, and so he found you right away.

You tried to look for him around the stadium, head turning from left to right every minute or so, but you just couldn't spot him. There were too many athletes with a similar stature and physique.

The corners of Anton's lips rose to a bashful smile as he watched your head move at an irregular rhythm trying to look for him.

“Who are you smiling at?” One of Anton's teammates nudged at him.

“Oh it's nothing, I just saw my friends.” Thankfully his teammate did not care enough to question him further.

The competition would start soon enough and you would find yourself, mouth hung open watching the swimmers with astonishment. You've watched snippets of the Olympics back then, some you would only stumble upon on Tiktok, it never failed to amaze you with just how fast their pace could go.

Now you are seeing a match in real time, fists balled up from unadulterated joy. You're thankful that Anton wanted you to be here, and you couldn't wait for his turn.

Sohee and Xen bickered, picking out swimmers who they thought would place 1st in each category, their picks always opposing each other. You and Mrs. Park on the other hand, just watched and clapped at every heat.

You were looking around at the stadium taking in the spaciousness and the surrounding lights when Mrs. Park placed a hand on yours. “Anton will be out soon.” she whispers into your ear.

You kept the same smile you've been wearing since the match started, but your spirits were lifted to seemingly dramatic levels. Your eyes focused on each athlete in every heat, and when you finally saw Anton, he looked right at you. It was a bit too far you to see, but he had such an adoring smile on his face as he saw the stadium lights reflected by your eyes giving him a sweet gaze from afar.

It happened twice, thrice, for the fourth time, and for the last time in Anton's last heat. There was no doubt that he did incredible for this particular match, your presence causing his heightened vigor.

The match had ended, the stadium was filled with immense praise for the athletes, awards were granted, and you clapped with so much force and volume every time Anton's name was called.

Anton saw it all. He wasn't aiming for a silver or a gold —which he both got— ,what he truly wanted was for you to see him at his best. You could say he intended to impress you, but this was all really just an excuse to see you again.

You, Xen and Sohee stood near the car, waiting for Xen's mom who had gone to the restroom. When she came back though, Anton followed right behind her, carrying his bag. You welcomed him with a warm smile to which he instantly folded, hanging his head low in order to hide the warmth spreading across his cheeks.

“Anton's joining us for dinner!” Mrs. Park exclaimed, causing you to subconsciously clasp your hands together.

Anton's eyes dilated a bit with how adorable you were, everyone saw it and felt the tension between you two.

Anton sat in between you and Sohee at the back, and conversations just kept going on and on. But at one point during the car ride to dinner, while everyone else laughed and talked about some matter, you and Anton were having your own little talk.

“You're really amazing, you know.” your voice was low, but your tone was very mellow, it nearly melted the guy seated next to you.

He leaned in a bit, this time not minding the flushed state of his composure. “I couldn't have done it without you.” he replied in the same manner.

You turned your head a bit to look at him. You two were a lot closer than what the both of you thought, but not an ounce of care was given. He looked down into your eyes, staring at the shine reflecting on his own eyes.

“That's quite cliché of you.” the two of you shared a soft laugh, eyes still locked on one another.

“I know, but it's true.” his eyes hesitantly traveled down to your lips.

If it weren't for the car stopping, you two wouldn't even realize the closing proximity between you two and would have still been basking in the little space with each other's ambiance.

Dinner was a delight. You were all at Xen's house eating a meal prepared by Xen's aunt. Anton tailed behind you taking the seat next to yours at the dining table. Everyone congratulated Anton with his great success for that day's competition, while under the table, your hands were so close to engulfing in one another.

“How long have you been together?” This being the first time you and Anton met Xen's aunt, she just couldn't hold in her curiosity when the two of you remained notably close to each other from the moment you stepped in their home.

“Oh, we're not together… yet.” you laughed nervously, murmuring the last part.

Considering the intimate distance, Anton was able to catch your last breath. Though he was still conversing with the adults in the room who had endless questions for him, he had his pinky crossed over yours. You kept your eyes on him, feeling the warmth of his hand close to yours. When he finally looked at you, he got lost in the constellations that formed in your eyes, looking right back at him with awe.

Mrs. Park insisted on driving all three of you back to your own homes, Sohee being the first to depart, then you.

Before leaving though, you gently place your hand on top of Anton's, waving goodbye with your other hand with a smile that alters his sensations.

Your hand drifted from his at a painfully slow pace from which he longed for your touch the second he lost it.

It was indeed a good night.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

#riize #riize au #riize fanfic #anton lee #briize #riize anton #riize fluff #riize x reader #Spotify

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moongothic · 1 year ago

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Many people have pointed out (in relation to Crocodad) how in Japanese the etymology of the word "wani" (crocodile) is a bit complicated to say the least and in mythology could mean a variety of things, including a shark, sea monster or a dragon

Which, of course, is quite an interesting coincidence. Crocodile does often get referred to as "wani" not just by Luffy but some other characters, and so it would be just a little funny if both of Luffy's dads were sorta kinda called dragons

There's also people pointing out how Zoro's mother was called "Tera", similar to terra (earth) and Sanji's mother was named Sora (sky). So if Luffy's birthing parent was named after a water-dwelling creature, well, it'd be cute and round out the monster trio's birthing parents in a funny way, since we'd have earth, sky and the sea

But what really is fucking me up about the whole wani-thing is the Myth of Toyotama-hime

So the TL:DR; of the myth is

The pregnant princess Toyotama came from the Ryuuguu Castle deep in the oceans onto land to give birth to her child, telling her husband that when she would give birth, she would revert back into her true form, requesting him to not look at her while she gave birth. But her husband could not keep that promise, so he peeked in on his wife, only to witness a giant wani giving birth. The sight of this horrified the husband so much he fled, while Toyotama princess was so hurt by what had happened that she returned to the sea, abandoning her child.

Indeed, this myth bringing up wani pregnancy is just. An interesting coincidence for Crocodad speculation

Of course, we know Oda borrows from mythology (fucking, Fishman Island's castle is literally the Ryuuguu Castle), so if Crocodad Real, it's genuinely plausible Oda could('ve) take(n) inspiration from that very myth

Thing about it is that though...

Like, if we're assuming Crocodile never fully realized he was trans until he got pregnant, then him transitioning either immidiately or as soon as he could after giving birth would make sense. Dude seeks out Iva-chan and gets the t-juice*, so on and so forth, but my question is like, would that have been before or after delivering the baby to Dragon (so he could then pass it onto Garp)

*(Or hell, maybe Iva-chan was there helping deliver the baby, helping Crocodile crack his own egg etc, maybe the secret Iva-chan is holding over Crocoboy's head isn't that they knew Crocodile is trans and could out them, but knowing Crocodile gave birth to god know whose child)

Because like

How did Dragon find out about his partner transitioning?

Did pre-T Crocodile tell him he was transitioning while handing over the baby? Or did he just leave without an explanation and allowed Dragon to just Take In The Change after it had happened whenever they saw each other again (if they ever did, for all we know he could've just walked away without talking to Dragon again and Dragon just found out either from Iva-chan directly or from seeing him on the news)

Or did Crocodile transition first and then deliver the baby to Dragon without any warning, again, just giving Dragon one hell pf a surprise

In any scenario, how did that even go down?

And we have to ask the sad question of... is Dragon a Bisexual King or not? And would Crocodile have been... afraid of Dragon's reaction? (This would've been a younger Crocodile mind you, who would literally have been just coming out of his shell, and that shit's scary man)

Because if Toyotama Princess is any indicator, this wani's relationship did not end well after her truth was revealed

Like, let's say Crocodile transitioned first and then showed up without warning as a man to Dragon to hand over the baby. Thing is, while we know VERY LITTLE about Dragon still, I can't imagine him being like violently transphobic or even lashing out at his partner when he'd come out. But I could imagine him being so shocked he'd be left utterly speechless.

And I'm not entirely sure which would be worse; Dragon outright but "kindly" telling Crocodile he's not into men and breaking the poor bastard's heart, or Bi!Dragon being too shocked to say anything, letting Crocodile to just jump to conclusions based on his reaction (and maybe then causing Dragon to jump into further conclusions (that Crocodile must actually be into women)), unintentionally causing a divorce out of sheer misunderstanding and literal lack of communication

And the sad part is, considdering Dragon is a very secretive man, who according to the Crocodad Theory can't even have told his partner his full name mind you... The miscommunication seems very plausible to me?? Does it not?

Or, maybe Crocodile delivered the baby to Dragon pre-T and told him he's going to Iva-chan without further explanation, jumping into conclusions, afraid to hear what Dragon would say. So he just leaves without explaining before Dragon gets to say a word. And Dragon just accepts it. Assuming he's the one getting dumped.

Either way, whatever might've happened can't have been good, can it

Also, considdering Garp is a fucking idiot (affectionate), and Luffy clearly inherited The Stupid from his grandfather, I would not be surprised if Dragon was also actually a bit of a himbo underneath that serious face he puts on (either that or Crocodile kept on smoking while pregnant)

Which could also turn what would otherwise be a tragic miscommunication into an absolute comedy if Crocodile and Dragon ever met again and the two realized that they're both idiots who jumped into conclusions and ruined their marriage by refusing to talk about their fucking feelings to each other. This is an absolute trainwreck of a family

But considdering the things Crocodile has done by this point*, would it ever even be possible for the two to reconcile?? Because, althought Dragon is pro-overthrowing corrupt governments especially if they're affiliated with the World Government, from what I can tell, he's still against unnececary violence (Vegapunk even comments that Dragon "hates war" in a flashback) and needless loss of life. And Crocodile caused just that.

*And I don't even mean the failed attempt at taking over Alabasta, I mean the drought Crocodile caused that caused countless people to starve to death and then caused the civil war which had already taken lives and permanently disabled people BEFORE the Strawhats ever even get to Alabasta. Like Crocodile's bomb may have been a dud but he still caused people to die for no reason, and I can't imagine Dragon being fine with that. But then again, Robin and other Baroque Works members also contributed to the loss of life and their sins have been neatly swept under the rug so IDK

And like. We don't know if Crocodile moonlighted as a Revolutionary for like 10+ years after Luffy was born and slowly went out of contact or if he just left immidiately. But theoretically, the two might not have even seen each other in like almost 20 years

That'd be a long time to carry a broken heart

How the fuck would you even heal from that

Also like

Crocodile did seem a little suicidal at Impel Down if I'm being honest

Like.

He had a dream of becoming Pirate King. But he lost to Whitebeard, and his dreams were ruined.

Dude had a master plan to take over a country that took him almost a decade to pull off, only for it to get wrecked in the final hour by a literal child.

His useless underlings then come and try to break him out of prison

And he chooses to stay

When we finally see his face for the first time in Impel Down... His mouth might be forming a smile, but those eyes aren't

And he even says it himself

"I didn't think there'd be anything for me to do if I were free"

Is it not like he has given up on life entirely..?

And sure, he does ask to be let out so he can get revenge on Whitebeard, but was it out of a genuine belief he could actually take down the old man or just a slightly more fun way to die than rotting away in prison for the next few decades?

You know the saying, "to be loved is to be changed"

Frankly, the same goes for the reverse. Being unloved, or believing yourself to be unloveable will change you. For the worse

#OP Meta #Crocodad #Sir Crocodile #I know I keep on saying I don't believe in Crocodad anymore and here I am back on my bullshit again #This asshole is the only thing keeping me from falling apart rn just please let me have this #I'm just so fucking intriqued by the storytelling potential here #Of what the fuck happened #If it's real #The tragedy could be absolutely devastating #Or you could have an insane One Piece slapstick reunion #I am extremely fond of the idea of The Disaster Family mind you #Because they could be so fucking funny (especially if you included Garp) (Holy shit can you fucking IMAGINE)#Like yes emotional reunion between Crocodile and Luffy yes sure #But please considder #Luffy somehow finding out and then demanding for an explanation from An Extremely Reluctant Crocodile #Who can't really do much because he doesn't have it in him to hurt his baby boy but also The Baby Boy is an unstoppable MENACE #The slapstick would be hysterical #Also I am pro-Bullying Crocodile #Moon posting #On a slightly less downer of a note to end on #While Crocodile might've given up on life before Marineford he certainly found a reason to live during/after Marineford #This was supposed to be a short post how did it turn into borderline fanfic

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 2 months ago

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Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 43

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 1567

Warnings: Mention of death/near-death and childbirth complications

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Also, I'm so sorry for the delay on this chapter. It's been a rough couple of months because my company decided to do layoffs and unfortunately, I was in the layoff group ☹️ I know it's short but I do hope you enjoy!

Chapter Songs: Every Storm Sweet Nothings

***

Hangman

The muffled noise of the hustle and bustle in the hospital hallway outside reminded Jake of many things, namely that he survived his brother's attack. He used it to ground him to reality while he slowly got dressed. Coyote had gone to retrieve his truck to bring both Jake and Ghost back to her place since Hangman's was still technically considered a crime scene. Ghost had left to officially check him out of the hospital. Matt had gone to the police station at their request to assist with something in the assault and embezzlement cases against Nick, but he'd promised to come to Ghost's later to help out.

A knock on his door caught his attention, and without turning around, he called for them to come in. It opened, and Ghost said, "You have a visitor."

"I hardly call you a visitor when you've practically lived in this room with me since I got here," he joked, trying to make his girlfriend laugh. She'd barely done so since she'd broken down about the guilt she felt over the entire situation, and Hangman used any opportunity he could to make Ghost laugh, to let her know it wasn't her fault, to let her know he didn't blame her for what happened, and to assure himself that Ghost had made it out alive as well. Her silence was deafening, and hearing her laugh made him believe in her physical presence when he couldn't touch her.

A different, weaker female voice replied, "Ghost isn't referring to herself."

Against his better judgment, Hangman whirled around, instantly regretting the action when pain lanced up his abdomen. He would've reacted to it had he not seen Juliette standing in the doorway; Ghost stood at her side, arm-in-arm, to support her friend and ensure she didn't collapse to the ground.

"Hey, Hangman," Juliette greeted with a small but sincere smile. "You're looking well for a guy who got stabbed multiple times."

Jake strode over to her, saying, "You look good for someone who died and came back."

He enveloped her in a giant, gentle hug, relieved to know his best friend was alive and well. Despite her fragile appearance, Juliette hugged him fiercely. "Sounds like we both almost met Death."

"Yeah, try not to do that again. I don't think my heart could handle it, and I know Rooster's couldn't.

"He's going to be a complete Mother Hen when we get home," Juliette groaned, pulling away from Jake.

"As he should," Ghost and Hangman replied simultaneously. The former added, "How are the twins doing?"

"Doing well, all things considered. We should be able to take them home next week." Juliette glanced up and down at Hangman. "You're sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, I promise. Are you?"

Juliette nodded. "Yeah. A little shaken, but okay."

"If it wasn't for you nailing Nick on the head with that baseball bat, I'm not sure we'd all be standing here," Ghost remarked, gently squeezing her friend's arm.

"Don't do drugs, kids." Hangman's joke earned a grin from Juliette and a small smile from Ghost. He ached to reach for her but decided Ghost wouldn't appreciate the gesture in front of her friend because Juliette would pick up on the hidden message and ask what was wrong when all she needed to do was focus on recovering herself. "How'd you escape Bradshaw's watchful eye?"

"A lot of convincing and a little bit of sneaking out while he went to get the Bronco," Juliette confessed sheepishly, scrunching her face up with the knowledge she'd undoubtedly be reprimanded by her fiance.

"Which was not appreciated," came Rooster's voice behind them. All three of them jumped at his sudden appearance. He'd come from around the corner with the most impeccable timing, eyeing his fiancee disapprovingly. "You're lucky your mom was there to tell me where you were."

Ghost moved aside to let Rooster support Juliette, joining Hangman's side. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him, savoring the moment of being able to make such a gesture without repercussions or questions.

Rooster shook his head. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Take me to bed or lose me forever?" Juliette suggested with a playful gleam in her sapphire eyes.

"The only reason you're getting into a bed is to rest." Kissing her on top of the head, Rooster then turned to Ghost and Hangman. "Do you two need a ride?"

"No, Coyote's picking us up. Thanks, though."

"All right. If you two need anything-"

"We'll call Coyote because you-" Ghost pointed a firm finger at Rooster- "will be taking care of your wife and kids. On the other hand, if you need anything from me-"

"Us," Hangman corrected.

"Neither of you," Juliette interrupted sternly. "One of you has a severe concussion, the other got stabbed and nearly died, so you're taking care of yourselves and each other and no one else until you're better. Understood?"

"The minute one of us can drive, we're at your disposal. No arguments," Ghost declared with equal seriousness.

Juliette narrowed her eyes at her friend. Hangman might've relented under the intensity of it, but Ghost held firm in her statement. "Fine, but don't overdo it when you're better. Concussions take a while to recover from."

"Trust me, I know." Ghost ruefully rubbed the back of her head, and Hangman flashed back to her high school car wreck. His heart lurched at the memory because it'd terrified him then to see her stumbling out of her totaled car in a daze, and it still horrified him now, especially after what they'd just gone through. "We'll see you soon, though, okay?"

Bidding each other goodbye, the couples parted ways. Hangman watched Rooster and Juliette walk away, the latter leaning heavily onto her husband. Worry gnawed at Hangman, and he asked quietly, "Do you really think she's okay?"

Ghost hesitated for a moment before responding. "No. I don't think she is."

***

Rooster

Watching my wife, I noticed the smile on her face slowly fade until it wholly disappeared by the time we reached home. I tried to think of something, anything, to say to her, but nothing came to mind. I couldn't even begin to imagine what she was going through. In the span of twenty-four hours, she'd been told to go to the hospital for her pre-eclampsia, walked into a fight where two men were trying to murder her friends and family, had a seizure, had an emergency C-section, died, and came back. That was a lot for anyone to handle, even for someone as strong as my wife, and I felt so useless in not being able to do anything about it for her.

I helped Juliette out of the car, and entering the house, her melancholy momentarily disappeared to greet Raptor and Lightning. She knelt on the floor, hugging and kissing our dogs, who acted peculiarly and uncharacteristically reserved, almost like they sensed their mom's fragile state.

"Hi, babies," Juliette whispered, kissing them on their heads. "Momma's okay. I'm okay."

Although subtle, I heard the crack in her voice at the end, and I wondered if her telling the dogs she was okay was more for herself than for them. I sat on the floor beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Juliette said nothing at the contact; she simply continued petting the dogs. For five minutes, we sat in silence. For five minutes, I watched Juliette's face slowly redden, watched tears brim her sapphire eyes, felt her body begin to tremble until I finally softly said, "Jules."

Her composure crumbled, and for the first time in my life, I watched in horror as my wife completely and utterly broke down. Without a word, I pulled her into my arms and cradled her while she wept. Raptor and Lightning lay on the floor on each side of me, flanking us protectively.

"I'm so sorry," Juliette rasped when her sobs had somewhat abated.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," I managed to reply despite the painful knot in my throat. I wanted to cry, too, not only because it dawned on me once more how close I'd come to losing my wife but because she felt she had to apologize for it.

"I nearly widowed you and orphaned our children," Jules said. "I should've listened to you. I should've gone sooner to the hospital and-"

"And if we hadn't, you wouldn't have saved Ghost, Hangman, and Maverick. I'm not sure they would've made it had we not shown up. So, yes, it was terrifying and painful to watch you die, but you're still here, Jules. I got you back, our kids got you back, our dogs got you back, and our friends and family are alive because of you."

Juliette sniffled, wiping her nose. "I died, Bradley. I- I can't-"

"I know." I kissed her forehead, understanding that she was still trying to comprehend everything she'd been through. It would be a long while before Juliette was okay again, but I would be here for her no matter what, as would our friends and family. We would help her get through this.

Juliette pulled her head back just far enough to look me in the eyes. I braced my forehead against hers and lightly began pecking her on the lips, whispering a word between each: India. Lima. Yankee. ***

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craziechwiv · 5 months ago

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The Paladin & their Succubus frenemy - 6

(TW!!: Domestic Violence): Read at your own risk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the group and the two guards were walking ahead, with the crowd of injured servants behind them, Jaune decided to ask the two who they actually were.

Paladin Jaune: Hey? Neptune, was that your name?

Neptune: Uh yeah, what's up?

Paladin Jaune: So, what were you and Sun before...all this?

Neptune: Oh, I'm glad you asked! Partly because, most people ask Sun besides me, but. I'll tell you.

'Where to start? Well, me and Sun met 5 years ago. I was training in becoming a warrior of some kind, and Sun was already a pretty popular fighter. Although, a bit smug, he could back up his skills to anyone who'd try to call him out.'

'Seems like you guys are some capable fighters to me, when was the first time like?'

How'd we met exactly? He was in a brawl at a bar at our old hometown. One guy tried to sneak up on him and so, I tackled the guy. Took quite the hit in return but Sun repaid the generosity by knocking the guy out. Soon after, him and me were high tailing out of there, laughing our asses of, well Sun was...I was trying to catch my breath.

'Heh heh, we all have our adventures my friend. Either good or bad.'

'But after that, we've decided to be traveling partners until we, actually became partners.'

'Oh, I see. Well, I'm glad you both are together. It seems to me you both are a well-adjusted team. And you fighting those demons, even with inures, was impressive enough.'

As Neptune was speaking to Jaune about how him and Sun met, the rest of the group were ear hustling in, with Sun smiling softly as Neptune talked his heart out about the two of them.

Champion Pyrrha: You really found a great man.

Sun: Don't I know it? He's scrawny sure, but he can sure as hell fight and take hits like no one I teamed with.

Dwarf Nora: Hidden strength type? That kind of reminds of a special man of me own.

Monk Ren: I wonder who it could be.

Dwarf Nora: Oh, surely not you~.

Reaper Ruby: Hm.

Champion Pyrrha: Something on your mind, Ruby?

Reaper Ruby: No, just wondering about something...

Sun: What is it?

Reaper Ruby: How did you both find out...uhm...

Sun: We were the one for each other?

Ruby nods her head slowly.

Sun: Hm, we just...spent a lot of time together. I got to know him and he got to know me. And we just sort of, clicked. Hell, once we were done with this mission, our pay would've sent us on a nice vacation until it was back to our daily lives of exploration. But, with some of the people we've lost...I don't know how true our actual pay may be.

Sun moped abit, now thinking about their current problem before he felt a hand plant itself on his shoulder. He looked towards his right side to see Ruby patting it.

Reaper Ruby: It's not your fault. Like Jaune said, you both tried your best. Plus, we maaay need to have a talk with who wanted these servants in the first place, since they might be in trouble.

Sun: Oh, they won't be. Trust me.

Reaper Ruby: Why do you say that? Of course they'll be in trouble, they risked people's lives!

The rest just looked at her with confusion or at each other, sensing she didn't know the situation entirely.

Dwarf Nora: Does she not know who we're meeting?

Reaper Ruby: Who?

Nora loudly whispered to Ruby.

'It's the Schnees!'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, as the group was still making their way out of the forest to civilization, there was a commotion going on in a manor at their village.

???: Didn't I say, to be dressed accordingly to what I said?!

A white-haired man shouted at a younger woman, slapping her across her face as his hand left a slight mark on it. The young woman was stunned but looked back at him, silently nodding her head as tears began to slowly form and fall from her eyes.

???: Now, go and get dressed, less I have to punish you once more.

???: Y-Yes father.

The young woman hastily went into her room, hearing the man turn his attention to someone else, possibly her mother...

???: Oh, give me a break! Can't either of you worthless broads dress properly?!

???: W-What did you just call- AH!

The young woman flinched as she heard the screams, followed by muffled crying as the man shouted at her mother some more.

???: Don't even dare speak to me in that tone. Do you know how fast I could have you all jailed? Exiled?! EXECUTED FOR ALL I CARE?!

The young woman just crumbled as she wept, yearning for the day the man she calls her 'father' dies.

???: Someday Weiss...someday.

#rwby #rwby au #rwby demons x heroes au #paladin jaune #champion pyrrha #dwarf nora #monk ren #reaper ruby #sun wukong #neptune vasilias #weiss schnee #jnpr

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glitterslag · 2 years ago

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eddie hasn't been cuddled - y'know like really cradled - since he was a little kid.

when he first comes to live with wayne as this angry, skinny little twelve year old, he's averse to all touch. He bristles with it. Wayne swears he can almost hear it, sometimes, the invisible forcefield he's built around himself, humming like an electric fence.

but eddie's heart is soft beneath all that barbed wire, and he grows out of it in a couple years. Whether it's down to the relative stability of wayne's care, or just the growing pains of adolescence relieving themselves with the passage of time, is another story.

wayne isn't really a hugger himself, anyway, more likely to plump for a hair tousle or a clap to the back whenever eddie makes him proud. Still, it makes him happy to see him growing up kind and affectionate despite it all, against all the odds, really, so he tolerates it, just about, when his boy gets big enough to lift him off his feet in a bone-crushing embrace.

"damn fuckin' menace..." is all he'll say, harrumphing and readjusting his cap before going back to tending to the dinner or tinkering with his car or whatever he happens to be doing, and he hopes it sounds like "i love you too, kid."

it's true. Despite his less than ideal upbringing, eddie really has no trouble with affection at all. Especially not with his new girlfriend. Lately, he finds he's pulling her in for a hug anytime he gets a spare minute, whether it's in the line at the movie theatre or if he's sneaking up behind her as she's stirs a saucepan full of dinner.

the first time chrissy holds him, though, eddie breaks down in tears.

it comes at him out of nowhere. They're sharing a joint in bed, blankets drawn up over their naked forms and a record that needs cleaning playing soft and grainy in the background. Typically, after sex, he'll scoop chrissy into his arms and they'll lay that way for some time, quite often until wayne yells at him through the door to take the girl home before her momma goes ballistic. It's always pretty difficult to let her go. This time, though, it's her reaching for him. And it blindsides him.

she's gazing down at him in her lap, a blonde angel in the lamplight playing with his hair and when she brushes back the bangs from his forehead to give him a kiss, he just bursts into these heaving, uncontrollable sobs.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry" is all he can splutter out, over and over again as he rolls over to plant his face into her stomach. "i don't know what's happening right now." Mercifully, she just holds him tighter and doesn't ask him any questions.

he writes it off as one of those weird body things that happen sometimes and tries not to think of it again, and it's not until weeks later that he realises. No girl has ever done that to him before. No girl has ever touched him nicely. He's had sex before chrissy, sure, but none of those people ever stuck around to listen to records after. He's not even sure he would've wanted them to.

of course, it would be entirely too mortifying to say any of that out loud, but the next time they're in bed together and she reaches straight for him with this knowing look in her eyes, he realises she's probably already figured it all out anyway. She always was way smarter than him. Thankfully, he doesn't tear up this time.

eddie munson sure knows how to love, but learning to be loved in return, as it turns out, can take a little more time. It's a good job he's got all the time in the world.

#some touch starved eddie for your sunday afternoon #btw do not fear wayne is not huggy but he's very loving and in fact he is very fond of giving eddie a lil kiss on the head!!!#its just that girlhugs get him right in the mommy issues u see #hellcheer #btw had to make the font larger cuz it wasn't showing up in the tag :'(

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accirax · 4 months ago

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initial thoughts on DCAS episode 16

... is Derek really an incel? like, at the very least, shouldn't him being with Kristal prove that he isn't an incel? i have no qualms with Emily insulting Derek, but she should at least be accurate.

ooh, Emily going full villain mode? we stan :D

girl how would you possibly think this would work

so Ally has resorted to playing a fully emotional game, huh? you either get eliminated a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the Jake.

the music in this scene cracked me up. also, i think aleriya is (canonically) dead after this scene, if it hadn't already died beforehand. (i say canonically bc fans can do whatever they want)

d-does he still...? also, obligatory "just because Connor loves Riya doesn't mean she has any obligation to love him back, villain or not."

i really can't tell if this part of Ally's character arc is meant to be viewed as good or bad. like, the show is obviously telling us that Ally's overall trajectory is bad, and being needlessly cruel to other people for the sake of putting your own emotional wellbeing first could certainly be a part of that. but, there's also been a lot of commentary about how hard it is to be under the scrutiny of social media (likely from the crew's own experiences), so Ally learning to stand up for herself and what she needs could also be a form of wish fulfillment. hopefully it'll resolve as a multi-layered predicament in the end, but i'm just trying to figure out how Ally will respond to her edit in All Stars in either the finale or the Loser's Motel episode.

...can't you just wait, like, two more episodes to directly state the point of your character arc, essentially then concluding it? then i could be sure that you'd win.

HELP

lmao of course the nerd can't rock climb. he can carry 120 pounds on his back but he cannot ascend.

Connor is really fucking strong goddamn?

Ally really can't fight this, because this is the exact rationale that she was trying to use on Jake for their entire games.

i want to see people draw buff Grett in the style of the buff Natsuki meme from DDLC. but, also, go Grett!!!

the intense difficulty of a twelve piece jigsaw puzzle. Venus noted that it really sounded like Kristal was describing a slide puzzle, but I understand why that would've been really difficult to storyboard.

Connor you can't be this stupid (/j)

in-universe, i don't really understand how she beat Alec (he was really good at the block puzzle in s1 and it fits his vibes), but yay Grett! i knew she wasn't going home tonight anyway.

what else could it have possibly been, Ally? regardless, we're definitely setting up the pieces for Grett's downfall soon.

can you really count the TikTok challenge as a "Jake immunity win"? literally everyone except Gabby and Grett won immunity in that challenge.

for a moment, i really thought Connor was going to pull the Kim Possible "out there... in here..." thing.

so true Jake

this feels like a fanfic line

you know Jake's having flashbacks to his last final 6 experience.

well, while i certainly thought that it was Riya's time to go in terms of the cut, it does actually make more sense for Alec to go home here, no plot armor involved! (other than arguably the plot armor of not letting Alec win the challenge.) Alec is much more threatening in a final 3 situation because of his greater athleticism and intelligence as compared to Riya, and Grett is closer to Riya than Alec. it sucks to see one of my favorites go, but it's entirely logical.

Riya out here projecting ("little toy")

this was such a good moment. i especially love the storytelling without dialogue going on with Connor's reaction. anyways, if Riya wasn't going to win before, she's definitely not going to win now. you don't get hit with the "look at what a sorry state you're in" three episodes before the final and then snatch the W.

maybe you shouldn't have fired and humiliated your employees live on TV, then.

is this season going to end with Kristal resigning from the show? i thought that might happen to make way for Emily as the new host, but now that she's going more villainous, i don't think that'll be the cast anymore. maybe Derek and Trevor will take the show back over, as (I think) the more popular hosts in the fandom?

anyways. a solid episode! i think a good number of people saw the Connor idol play coming from a mile away, so it wasn't all that surprising that one of the major villains was going down. still, we had interesting strategy and some great character moments, especially for Connor. they're really making the best of his extended time in All Stars. and, hey, there are only two guys left, so maybe he'll make the finale! it doesn't really matter, though, because it's gonna be Jake. i'll keep riding the Jake winner train until he gets eliminated. not that i think that's going to happen ;)

see you next week!

#disventure camp #disventure camp spoilers #dcas #dcas initial thoughts #i did also get spoiled on the outcome of this episode which may be part of why i sound less excited about the elim than i might have been #i didn't get the surprise factor but it did also help me see how this was a good final act for the boot #other than whatever they'll be doing in the losers' motel #hehehe... loser's motel

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pastelwitchling · 1 year ago

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A Curse for True Love by Stephanie Garber

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

This book is a little more complicated than the previous two, I think. Spoilers below.

To be completely honest, this book was not a 5-star read for most of it. Then the final fourth happened, and I was enamored. I don't think the book itself is worth 5 stars, I think it has quite a few problems, which I'll get into in a second, but I absolutely adore Evangeline, Jacks, Chaos, and Lala, I love the world, I love the writing, and I'm so obsessed with the romance that I don't think I needed this book to be flawless, I just needed it to be... itself (?), and it managed to do that.

Nevertheless, here are some of the reasons that kept it at a 4 to 4.5-star rating for most of the story;

- Jacks... was barely in this. At least for more than the first half, and that's too much time for a main character to be missing. The blurb made it sound like Jacks and Apollo were going to be kind of in competition with each other for Evangeline's heart (the tagline was literally, May the best villain win), and yet for almost the entire story, Jacks has no idea that it was Apollo who had erased Evangeline's memory in the first place.

- The pacing was very slow. The entire first half could've so easily been condensed. There were moments when I was getting just a little bored while reading. Now, I was suffering severe PMS pain, and maybe I just needed a better distraction, but that doesn't change the fact that the pacing was very slow. It's book 3, the final one, and we were STILL having the same conversations with Jacks about how dangerous it was for them to be together, and him pushing Evangeline away. I understand WHY he was doing it, but it's the LAST book and we were still going in circles for so much of it.

If this book had been 700-800 pages or wasn't the last one, I would've understood why it was moving so slowly. But more than halfway through and NOTHING was really happening? More than halfway through and the main couple is BARELY together? It's just too much, to be honest.

- Chaos was barely in this as well. I was sure he had some feelings or attachment to Evangeline in the previous book, so I thought that at the very least, he would be more involved. Maybe it's just a personal thing, but I really loved him as a character, and thought we could've used a lot more of him.

- There was no weight to the Valor's return. This ancient founding family had come back from the dead, and it was kind of dismissed as an afterthought.

That's really all on the parts that dragged the book down a bit. For what I loved...

- Evangeline. As always. I love her unique personality, I love how she's allowed to be this POLITE girly girl who loves pink and sparkles and pretty things and dreams and magic and still be such a strong character. In this era of adorkable/emotionless female main characters, Evangeline Fox is such a breath of fresh air.

- Evangeline and Jacks. Words cannot express. I've already said this before, but I have not loved a fictional couple like the way I love these two since Celia and Marco from The Night Circus, which is the highest form of praise coming from me. The chemistry, the romance, the AESTHETIC. Don't touch me.

- Evangeline and Lala's friendship. This is why the pacing bothered me so much. I wanted so much more of these two together, I adore them. I feel like they're what the sister relationship in the Caraval series SHOULD'VE been.

- I loved Jacks saying he didn't even remember what Tella looked like and Evangeline being his everything and the truth behind the curse. I was worried we wouldn't get an answer for that true love's kiss, but ohhhh did Miss Garber deliver.

- That kiss and what followed. I can't even... I... *brain malfunction*

- I knew that's what the ugly tree would do, I so KNEW it, and it was very satisfying.

- I'm glad that Aurora turned out to be a psycho. It was very fun, but also, I hated her from the first page. I can't stand too-perfect characters with adorkable/sassy personalities. I'm just glad that I got to hate her with reason, that's all :)

Just overall everything. Like I said, this book alone isn't flawless, but neither were the last two and I still gave those 5 stars. The biggest thing is that this book doesn't feel like an ending, it feels more like it's kind of already setting up the next series, which is NEVER how a book should feel. Still, I fell in love with this series because of the characters and the relationships and the world, and all of that stays true to itself, so. Also, I think it helps that I went into this after heavily mixed reviews, so I knew to force my expectations down. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go look into getting the pretty British pastel editions of this glorious series.

#a curse for true love #acftl #acftl spoilers #stephanie garber #evangeline fox #jacks x evangeline #jacks prince of hearts #ouabh #ouabh 3 #rin reads

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decks-writing-blog · 1 month ago

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Gordon Swap Chapter Thirteen: I'm Sorry

Chapter One

Previous Chapter

[A/N] The whole of this chapter was supposed to have been at the end of last chapter but y'all already saw how long that chapter is so it got split, ending my pattern of switching POV each chapter. Who would've thought Feetman getting something as important as a cool new alien hand would take so many words?

In preparation for the worst because merely hoping it would be a smooth ride wasn’t enough, they formed a loose ring around the elevator’s center. Theoretically they had every angle covered and thus could shoot anything as soon as it finished teleporting in.

“You gonna be okay with your new lightning hand?” Barney asked.

Tempting as it was to say, ‘no’ and continue to hide while everyone else took care of the enemies, there wasn’t anywhere to hide. And the lightning shooting hand did mean he could finally fight back again; he wasn’t defenseless anymore. He’d had some time to get a little target practice done while the Vonneguts; big teleporter had been firing up. Not enough for him to be confident with it but he wasn’t a coward and now that he could fight back, he would. “I’ll be fine.” He maybe even made his voice sound like he believed that.

“All righty then.” Barney moved aside to take his place to Gordon’s right. He sounded like he believed him too. “Everyone ready to kill some aliens?”

“It’s gonna be like a shooting gallery,” Tommy said. “Maybe. I don’t actually know that. But if you think about it like that, it’s less scary.”

“Maybe they won’t even attack us.” They’d been going up for a few minutes now and so far nothing had. Still too early to say for sure and maybe Gordon was jinxing it by mentioning it but it was technically possible.

“We did kill an awful lot of them,” Dr. Coomer said. “In fact, I do believe we killed more aliens than soldiers. And we killed the entire US military, remember? So surely they’ve run out of alien troops by now.”

“Didn’t we determine that they have two armies though?” Bubby said. “One for each our worlds or something. Which is why there’s been so fucking many of them every time we turn a damn corner. So probably we’ll…” He cut off as the air crackled with the now very familiar sound of an alien teleporting in. “See? Told you.”

As always, where there was one, more quickly followed. And as had been the case since joining up with the rest of team, there were indeed a lot. Gordon was ready though, lifting his new hand to aim at the one of the ones teleporting into his designated section. His friends were already firing, filling the air with the sounds of gunfire.

The lightning tingled in the palm of his new hand as it charged. It felt like it was in his bones, unpleasant but at least it was a weapon. As the alien, a balloon guy, he was aiming at finished coming it he fired it off and… missed. Giving it time and space to fire at him instead. He could dodge though and had the HEV suit to protect him if not. And he had enough practice with it that he could charge his next shot even while side stepping the barrage of energy orbs. That bolt hit.

Leaving a small trail of smoke behind, the alien fell. It hit the railing with a meaty thud, bouncing off to continue its fall down the shaft. A one shot kill on a second try! That was pretty damn good. Maybe other-Gordon wasn’t the only one of them who could be cool. No time to celebrate though, there were more still threatening them.

True to Dr. Coomer’s initial prediction, they were indeed attacked repeatedly. Hoping against it had indeed been futile. A fairly small moving platform being hard to land ground troops in on even for whatever powerful thing they were up against, it was entirely balloon guys. They didn’t look scary but Gordon had seen what they could do even without mind controlling any Vonneguts. They’d been the ones to kill his alternate. One good bolt of lightning from his hand was enough to kill them though. All he had to do was not miss.

It wasn’t terribly different than aiming with a gun. And the longer this elevator ride lasted with its waves of hostile aliens – the breaks between them shorter than ever, their adversary was getting desperate – the better his aim with it got. He could be a badass alien killer too. It was a literally an alternate version of himself he was admiring the combat skills of after all. Thus he knew for a fact he could be like that too. Except instead of guns he had alien lightning. He never had to worry about reloading, just charging the thing. As long as he kept the HEV suit charged using the batteries from the pack he and Barney had thankfully packed with what at the time seemed to be an overkill of supplies, he was basically unstoppable, right? With how combat efficient everyone else was too, everything was going to be fine! They had this fight in the bag basically.

And it was fine, everything was going as good as it could given the circumstances right up until it wasn’t.

One moment Gordon had been almost having fun shooting aliens out of the air, watching their limp deflating bodies fall down the elevator shaft, trailing smoke. The next, the suit’s speakers buzzed as the display inside the helmet flashed, indicating its systems were drained. He took a step back but he’d extended too far forward, almost to the railing.

Something hit him, he couldn’t tell what or from which direction, but with the suit being reduced to barely better than regular armor, it hurt like hell. Either by coincidence or purposeful targeted assault, he was hit again almost immediately squarely in the chest. He stumbled and fell, landing hard on his shoulder before flopping onto his back. Breathing was suddenly difficult and each gasp for air sent a fresh stab of pain through his chest. Blood bubbled up in his throat, hot and coppery.

He clawed as the HEV suit’s collar, trying to find the button to lower the helmet before he suffocated. Before he found it another energy orb hit him. He saw it come through the visor but couldn’t move to avoid it hitting him in the chest again. It was like having his hand cut off again except it was in his chest this time. The metal of the HEV suit dissipated it some but unpowered it couldn’t do much.

A hand grabbed his upper arm and dragged him across the floor, aggravating every hurt in his body. “You okay?” That was Barney’s voice. It sounded distant.

No. Gordon wasn’t okay. Every breath hurt more than the last. Blood still bubbled up into a foam in his mouth. Whatever was broken inside his body wasn’t just his lung though. Something was very wrong. Bad enough that injecting a med-pack into the suit couldn’t fix it? … Maybe.

“User death imminent. Seek medical attention.” Even the HEV suit’s battery for non-essential functions was shot, making the words drawl out of the speakers slurred. Which made them all the more unsettling.

This was how he died, wasn’t it? Drowning in his own blood, fighting futilely against it, every breath and movement painful enough to make him want to scream if he’d had the breath for it. He wasn’t a stranger to the thought but now faced with it, he didn’t want to die. Really, really badly, he did not want to die.

Barney said something more above him. He couldn’t make it out. Maybe there were more voices too. It was hard to tell. But hey, at least he wasn’t alone. He’d always feared he’d die alone. Despite that and the pain and wrongness radiating through his body, he still didn’t want to though. More than anything he wanted to continue to live. … It wasn’t a choice though.

He blinked open his eyes to find his vision no longer darkened and his helmet down. The pain was gone, his breath easy in his chest. He stood in a circular room made of gray almost black stone, atop a raised platform. A small set of narrow stairs led up to it. The elevator. They were back at the bottom.

He pressed a hand to his chest. His heart pounded hard enough to make his ears ring but… he was fine. Completely and utterly fine. As if he hadn’t been hit at all. Everyone stood around him except for Benrey who stood at the bottom of the stairs.

“He died again, didn’t he?” Bubby said. “That’s why everyone got all quiet, right?”

‘Again’? Right yeah, other-Gordon. He must’ve died too and reset to here to bring Gordon back. Which meant maybe Gordon hadn’t died at all. He’d just been dying and his alternate had just happened to die then too. Gordon hadn’t actually died. He couldn’t have because that was absurd.

“Um, ‘again’ isn’t the right word,” Tommy said. “Congrats Mr. Freeman, you reset time when you die too.”

“I did that?” No way, right? That was his alternate's burden to bear.

Speaking of his alternate, he was pulling Barney over to sign something to him before pulling him in Gordon’s direction.

While he did that, Dr. Coomer spoke up. “Watch out, Gordon! You should be extra vigilant when there’s no cover from enemy fire.”

“That was really me then?”

In front of him now, his alternate nodded. He gesture to Barney to speak. “Uh… he said he wants to apologize. He didn’t tell me for what but um, I guess its got something to do with you dying. Did you really die?”

“Um… yeah, I guess I did.” Gordon shouldn’t be surprised, right? They’d known it was possible. But still, it didn’t feel real. How could he have possibly been in so much pain, desperately clinging to life, and then suddenly everything was just fine.

“So it wouldn’t’ve mattered if Bubby had tested it?” Benrey asked, still standing at the stairs. “But does this count as resetting the race too or… what? I was making good progress.”

“Uh… no. It’s still on just… give me a minute, ‘kay? Please.” He needed some time to process that he was indeed fine.

“Hmm… first death, huh?”

“Yeah. Hopefully the only.” There was no guarantee of that though.

“’Kay. You got five minutes.” Benrey lifted a hand, spreading his fingers to indicate the promised five minutes. “If you’re not ready to go again by then, I get a head start.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, that’s fair.” It wasn’t but Gordon didn’t really care. In fact, Benrey winning would be just fine with him if it meant he didn’t have to face possibly dying again. He turned his attention back onto other-Gordon and Barney who’d had a sign language exchange during his side conversation with Benrey.

“He wants to apologize for letting you die,” Barney said. “He said that he was gonna try to make sure that that didn’t happen but then he got caught up in the fight and you seemed to be doing fine so he wasn’t paying as much attention as he should’ve and you died as a result and he’s sorry about it.”

“Nah, dude it’s… well it’s not fine. But it’s not your fault.”

Bubby butted in from the side. “How’d you die anyway? ‘Cause I still don’t remember this shit and it fucking sucks.”

“Um… internal bleeding, I think. I’m not really sure.” And he didn’t want to think about it too much. Watching other-Gordon die had been bad enough. Dying himself was something else entirely. “It hurt. A lot.” He couldn’t literally taste his own blood anymore but the memory of it and the way it had felt bubbling up in his throat was vivid enough that he almost could.

“The balloon guys shot him a whole bunch with their energy orbs,” Tommy answered.

Other-Gordon signed something else. “He asking if you need a break,” Barney translated once he was finished. “And that probably we can’t take a super long one but if you want to sit down for a few minutes, we can.”

“Wow,” Bubby cut in again before Gordon could answer. “He’s actually offering to slow down. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Dr. Coomer invited himself back into the conversation with, “To be fair, Dr. Bubby, dying is rather awful. And this is Gordon’s first death. The first one is always the hardest.”

“Eh, I guess that’s fair. Go sit down for a bit Gordon. I’ll have Tommy fill me in on what else I might’ve missed while we wait.”

Well, if both other-Gordon who rarely slowed down and Bubby who liked to complain when people slowed down for too long were telling him he could sit for a bit, he was well justified in doing so. He walked past them and back down the stairs, passing Benrey so he could go over sit with his back against the the wall. Far enough away from everyone else to create an illusion of calm.

Other-Gordon followed and hovered awkwardly in front of him.

“You can join me.” The company was greatly welcome in fact. He sat down next to him, close enough to be in easy reach but far enough that he wasn’t crowding Gordon’s personal space.

The silence was comfortable but… “You died… how many times?” Gordon asked after maybe about a minute, turning his head to look towards his alternate.

Other-Gordon shrugged before lifting his an index finger to start acting like he was counting on his other hand. He repeated the motion several times quickly before shrugging again.

“A lot?”

He nodded. Then he gestured towards where the rest of the group were still milling about on and around the elevator and repeated the counting gesture again. Much slower this time.

“Less since joining up with them?”

Another nod. He lifted his hands to make a heart. He appreciated them probably more than Gordon ever had.

“You were… alone before the swap and meeting up with them?” There were many clues pointing to that being the case, it hardly needed to be asked but Gordon wanted confirmation.

He nodded.

And here Gordon had been thinking he’d had it bad with losing his hand and all the annoyance his companions brought. He could’ve been alone during the initial fallout of the Resonance Cascade, dying over and over again because death was far more likely while alone in such a dangerous scenario. … Maybe other-Gordon wasn’t a stoic badass and had never been one. The need to get good at killing stuff had been beaten into him the hard way; it was that or die even more often.

“I’m sorry. That must’ve sucked.” Dying the once had been worse than he ever would’ve thought. He couldn’t imagine how awful it would be to do so repeatedly while also utterly alone.

Other-Gordon didn’t bother trying to give any kind of reply this time. He just shifted his gaze away. There was wasn’t anything Gordon could do to make it better, could he? Here and now, still so close to it all, wasn’t the time nor the place to even get properly into it. They had a thing they had to kill to end what they’d started, to put a stop to it.

“I’m sorry,” he said again because what else could he say? “This’ll be over soon though. Just a little bit more and then we can kill the thing and go home. Or, heck, if we’re lucky, Benrey will get there first and kill it for us. … Assuming he can anyway. He might not be able to since we have basically no idea what it is. So probably sitting back and letting him do all the work isn’t what we’re gonna do, huh? As nice as that would be.” Probably the wisest option would be to go into the fight with him and have him help. Even now though, the thought of depending on him for help grated.

Other-Gordon gave him a thumbs up.

Probably they should get a move on. The sooner this thing was dealt the, the better after all. They’d been in such a rush for a reason. But… just another minute or two couldn’t hurt, could it?

Next Chapter

#hlvrai #half life #hlvrai gordon #gordon freeman #benrey #bubby #dr. coomer #tommy coolatta #barney calhoun #gordon swap

5 notes · View notes

star-mum · 8 months ago

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Good fucking morning lovelies, guESS WHO WOKE UP TO GREAT NOTIFICATIONS ON HER PHONE ?????

I'm very excited to read this but it's also 6am so excuse me for any comments that are too weird (or just don't make sense at all)

Starting off with a GORGEOUS COVER !!!!!! I loooove fic covers sm (and both of the spence pics chosen are just scrumptious 😋)

"But that's how the math works out" 😔 not math, again 😔

"A patient killer with an extended timeline who likely wouldn’t kill again for months" that's always so great for us 🫠

"Protecting the children is just a byproduct of his obsession over these women" hooraayy 🙃

"dozen stab wounds to their stomachs and genital areas." yeah uhm I don't feel really sAFE RIGHT NOW !!!!

"white carnations" i don't know a lot about flowers but these feel like a gravestone type of flower

HGTVs website: "When given on Mother's Day, they also are said to bring a mother good luck" DO YOU KNOW ABOUT FLOWERS ????? OR DID YOU LOOK THIS UP ??? WHAT !!!! WHAT !!!

okay i figured out why I got death vibes from them, it's cause they look A LOT like the flowers in Promised Neverland (i refuse to give out any more context)

"It’s not uncommon for killers to emotionally fetishize dead bodies and consider them more ‘pure’ than their living counterparts.” welcome to the stage Dr Reid !!!

“Yeah, but preschools typically have large waitlists.” i mean... not be an asshole but some of you bitches are really dumb (ik Plot but Pen would've checked that the moment they asked about preschools !!!!) (well... early seasons Pen) (the further we go the more they seem to just use her as a sentient computer and less of relying on her smarts as a whole) (tHis IS NOT THE TIME FOR THIS !!!)

"Oh, my Adonis, if I don’t have your trembling anticipation, I have nothing" I have nothing if not time for these two and their antics

"typical survey schlock,” love having my data stolen and sold for profit "The ‘optional’ part of the forms is sold off to other companies" yEP YEAH THERE WE GO

"and some even larger threats of being detained for impeding an FBI investigation" delicious (in my minds eye this came mostly from Emily and Hotch)

"easily became quiet in Spencer’s ears when he saw it." lets fucking goooooo ga(y)mersssss

"What the hell were you doing applying for preschools?" 😚 guess 😚

"It wasn’t difficult math" FOR YOU !!!!!

"Maybe you had cheated on him" woooowwwww you're counting the days we've been apart for and tHIS IS WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY ? WOOOOWWWWW

"Spencer still wasn’t even completely sure what had caused it" now we both know that's not true, Brain Blast

"on the current field team" sunny your words are hurtful

"having you, Elle, and Gideon leave his life all in a matter of a few months felt like hell on earth" suNNY YOUR WORDS ARE HURTFUL !!!!!

“I could not imagine little twenty-four year old Spence with a baby.” I can 🫣

"That was not something JJ had considered" ??? not everyone (looks pointedly at Will) enjoys getting cucked, JJ

"He was glad to already see signs that you were a good mother" just because you parented yourself dOES NOT MEAN I WANT PARENTING TIPS FROM YOU BITCH BOY !!!!

(for anyone reading this for the first time, I know more of what actually happened so that's why Im so aggro at Spencer) (im yn she is me, I will take her grievances as my own)

"Because of course, she could get your new address in a heartbeat" awwnn Pen, creepy <3

"The first night that he knew he was in love with you" yaaaay we get to be happy !!!!

"Virginia Symphony Orchestra" the song Cecily Smith will not begin to play on loop for this entire section :3

"You know, Bach actually married his cousin" 🙃 why must every historical figure dabble in some weird shit 🙃

"They had the same surname before marriage.” noooooooo that's the worst possible option

"Why don’t people play the organ anymore?" follow up question: why are they called organs ? weird name for a regular thing (like a big ass piano right?) in multiple different languages

"Bach a sort of ‘rockstar’ of his time." baby Spencer you are everything to me

"“Yes!” Spencer grinned, suddenly very excited by the explanation behind this" 😩😩😩 he's my favorite guy ever

"being around Spencer for such short periods of time caused you to learn so many things" the power a Knows Everything And Info Dumps Constantly x Asks Random Questions All The Time couple has is indescribable

"the Duke actually had him arrested and put in jail for several weeks in 1716.” daaaamn jail for musician for a thousand years for cheating (i guess)

"reach out and grab Spencer by his tie - you pulled him toward you" YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHH !!!!! Literally every single person in this fandom cheered

"Spencer let out a gentle moan" >:3

"He had no clue where it all went so wrong" I still don't fucking buy that okay? like he has NO IDEA ???? EIDETIC MEMORY AND HE HAS NO IDEA ????? I think Spencer has repressed that night (and that over all storm of pain) so badly that he has truly not thought about it in detail for the past 4 years BUT !!! The moment he lets himself look back at it he will know exactly what he did/said (he's not stupid and he was aiming to hurt, he got what he wanted)

BEAUTIFUL GORGEOUS OUTSTANDING NEVER THE SAME !!!! I loooove this series already, I'm even more excited about fridays from now on <33

Bonus - I read it on ao3 and I KNEW this would fucking happen (which is hilarious)

Careful - Chapter One

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter One: Over Yet

We can go farther, beyond the end.

Summary:

You and Spencer broke up more than four years ago. Since then, he has tried his best to forget about you. He has pushed all of his feelings down - locked them away into a little box that he never touches.

That is, until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being stalked and killed by a man who kills single mothers. (And he quickly realizes that your son could be his.)

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst.

Word Count: 5,900

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Please keep in mind - I am not doing a taglist for this series, so please do not ask to be tagged in future parts. I do not do taglists. If you want to be notified when future parts of this fic are posted, you can follow this blog and turn on notifications here - I don't make personal posts on this blog, it is just pure posts of my fanfiction. Or you can subcribe on AO3 to get email notifications when this series is posted. You can also view the posting schedule on the series materlist and check @tenpintsof-sundrop for any information about possible changes to that schedule.

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of dead bodies, the underlying misogyny that comes with a man killing women, mentions of children being orphaned due to their mothers being killed (though there is no mentions of other living family members taking care of those children - you can imaging that they still have nice families to take care of them if you want, I didn’t fill in that detail), mentions of children being in proximity of a serial killer; exes to lovers - the reader and Spencer broke up and the reason why will be revealed later; mentions of pregnancy/mentions of the reader having a child; mentions of sex that resulted in a child/pregnancy (there is no detailed sex scenes/detailed smut in this chapter, but there will be in other chapters); mentions of JJ x Will; the reader’s looks are described as vaguely as possible; passing mention of incest (in the context of a historical figure); all statements that Spencer makes toward the end of this chapter were heavily researched and are factual; I think that’s about it?

A/N: The reader and Spencer originally dated around Season 1/Season 2 - I state at some point during the fic that they dated for 3 years before breaking up, so they started dating when he was very early Season 1 baby Spence (or even before Season 1) and they broke up around Season 2. So technically this fic takes place around Season 6 - but because I didn't want to distract from the plot, I didn't mention any of the stuff going on with Emily or any of those major canon plot points, and I am using pictures of later versions of Spencer just because that's who I was picturing in my head while writing this. But that's how the math works out. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!! This chapter is more of an introduction before we really get into the meat of things, but I still hope that you guys like it.

...

The team had been in Portland for three days.

No leads, a confusing, inconsistent profile - huge pieces missing that would likely give them the real answers.

A patient killer with an extended timeline who likely wouldn’t kill again for months - leaving them chasing their tails, looking for answers.

“Okay, so, let’s take a step back.” Hotch sighed. “What do we know so far?”

He leaned against a nearby table, looking at everyone with the hope of reassessing the case from a different angle. The hope of talking it out to get some answers.

Another woman’s body had been found just before they arrived, and that would mean that the UnSub would be out hunting again soon. This was both good and bad.

Good, because the UnSub clearly had to spend a lot of time stalking his victims - he knew a lot of details of their lives, and he had spent a lot of time developing an intimate fantasy of being a part of their family in his mind. So he wouldn’t be killing again the next day. No woman was in immediate danger. It gave the team more time to find viable suspects.

Bad because they had no physical evidence, no good leads. And thus far, the profile was leading them nowhere. It felt incomplete.

They could find no real connections between the victims - their gyms, their banks, their childcare, their grocery stores. Somehow, the victims didn’t seem to have any crossover in their lives. There was no real way to say how the UnSub had met them. And someone like this - he would have interacted with them at least once in order to become obsessed and stalk them to this degree.

“Five women dead within the last three years.” Prentiss announced, starting to round up the facts that the team knew for certain. “All of them mothers, all with children under the age of five. All within the same ten square mile radius of Oregon, around Portland’s suburban neighborhoods.”

She slumped back into her chair with a tired huff, and then continued.

“The UnSub breaks into their homes through a backdoor or a back window, and somehow goes undetected in such an upscale neighborhood.” She sighed. “He kills the mothers, but he leaves their children alive. And then he calls 9-1-1 to report the death as a case of child neglect.”

“So he was likely neglected by his own mother in his childhood.” Morgan easily theorized.

“All of the victims upper-middle class, single mothers to one child with good jobs. All of them are of the same physical type.” Rossi added on. “They’re the same race, they have the hair color, they’re the same body type - all in their late twenties to early thirties. So the UnSub definitely has a type. He’s most definitely recreating a fantasy of some kind - perhaps taking out revenge on his own mother, but protecting himself. Which is why he never hurts the children.”

“Yeah, but the children are different.” Morgan replied. “Sometimes boys, sometimes girls. Some of them are biracial - he doesn’t look for a specific type in the father. He doesn’t necessarily need to see himself in the children.”

Then, as another thought occurred to him, Morgan continued on:

“Plus, the children’s ages vary from barely a year old all the way up to five - if he was looking to seek revenge on his mother, looking to protect a younger version of himself, then he would have locked in on a critical event that he needs to protect himself from. The age of the children would be more consistent, at least, because he would be looking to protect himself as he hits the age that he was most traumatized by a specific event.”

“That’s good.” Hotch nodded. “Then we know that it’s more about the mothers. He hates women at his core. Protecting the children is just a byproduct of his obsession over these women.”

“But we still have no clue how these women could be connected or how they met the UnSub.” Morgan replied, jaw stiff with frustration.

“Focus on what we do know.” Hotch reminded him.

“All of the women were killed via stabbing. They all had over a dozen stab wounds to their stomachs and genital areas.” Rossi replied. “So, he is an aggressive sexual sadist.”

“But if he hates women so much, why spend so much time in the house?” Morgan argued gently. “Every single one of these scenes has evidence that the UnSub spent hours - possibly up to a day in the house before he killed them. He cooked dinner, set the table, and made the women eat it before he killed them. Including a second place setting for a child. Some of the kids even said that ‘the scary man’ tucked them into bed and read them a story.”

He held up one of the crime scene photos that depicted the scene of the family’s place settings - a haunting scene of plates not cleaned up from dinner, with a flower vase sitting in the middle of the table with a few white flowers wilting inside of it.

“He’s right - why bother to show them the kindness of a last meal if he shows so much aggression toward them during the killing?” Prentiss added on.

“It’s a routine.” Hotch said, the thought suddenly occurring to him. “It’s likely that he chooses single mothers because he gets to play the role of the father. With the real father figure absent from the picture, it makes it easier for him to impose himself into that role. At least for a temporary amount of time.”

“It is strange.” Reid added on, clearly swimming in thought. “It’s almost like he’s courting them? Sending them gifts, showing what a good father he could be. Each of the women were sent white carnations sometime in the days before they were killed, and after the killing, he lays the flowers around their head in a halo-like fashion. It is said that carnations represent motherhood, and the white shade could depict an angelic innocence that he’s projecting onto these women.”

“So he views these women as angelic figures, yet he kills them so brutally?” Prentiss scoffed. “It just doesn’t add up.”

“Maybe he views the killing itself as a type of purification.” Reid theorized. “It’s not uncommon for killers to emotionally fetishize dead bodies and consider them more ‘pure’ than their living counterparts.”

Prentiss visibly cringed at this.

“Wait.” JJ said, looking at one of the crime scene photos with a sharp line pulling her brows together.

Everyone looked to her, waiting for her to finish this thought.

“I don’t think that the mothers were the only ones sent gifts.”

She held up the photo, showing a picture of a colorful child’s play mat in the living room. Everyone stared at the photo in confusion, and JJ sighed and began to explain.

“Look at this toy truck in the middle.” She said, pointing at something that almost blended into the background of the photo. The true focus was a large handprint - one that belonged to the killer, but he had worn gloves. “It’s wooden, it’s hand-carved, it’s old fashioned. All the other toys are plastic, brightly coloured. Remember what the UnSub said in the second 9-1-1 call?”

“‘She pretends to have her son’s best interests at heart, but she was going to let him get cancer from sucking on those cheap plastic toys.’” Reid said, repeating it word-for-word, using his impeccable memory.

“Exactly.” JJ confirmed with a nod. “Clearly the UnSub believes that he would be a good father because he can gift his child something hand-made instead of something mass produced.”

“Alright, get the crime scene techs back over there to pick up the truck, maybe he wasn’t wearing gloves when he made it and there is some slim chance he left a print on it.” Hotch said, and JJ left to call the crime scene unit.

This left the team sitting in silence for a few more moments until Reid spoke up again.

“What about preschools?” He said, suddenly coming out of a wave of thought to announce this to the room.

“What?” Prentiss prompted, wondering what on earth he was talking about.

“Preschools.” Spencer confirmed, looking across the table at her.

“We checked already, none of the victims’ children went to the same preschool.” Morgan reminded him. “Two of the kids didn’t even go to preschool.”

“Yeah, but preschools typically have large waitlists.” Spencer argued.

Naturally, all eyes in the room fell on him, waiting for him to explain.

“In the first 9-1-1 call, the UnSub said that the victim ‘shipped her son off to be cared for by strangers half the time’.” He explained, once again perfectly reciting this from memory. “What if the UnSub resents preschools and the schooling system for taking these children away from their mothers, so he’s choosing his victims off of a preschool waitlist? What if that’s where his obsession stems from because that’s where his rage stems from?”

Reid jumped up, pointing to the map he had been using to make a geographical profile.

“All of the victims live within the same school district.” He added on. “So they would be applying to the same group of preschools.”

“I’ll call Garcia.” Morgan announced.

A few minutes later, Morgan connected Garcia’s call to the comm on the center of the conference table they were working from.

“Hey, pumpkin pies.” She greeted them sweetly, as usual. “So it turns out, the preschool that Tommy Laird, and Emily Ashton, the third and the fourth victim had in common, does have a waitlist. But none of the other victims’ names were on it.”

“Come on, babygirl. I know you’re holding out on me.” Morgan said, giving a small smirk.

“Oh, my Adonis, if I don’t have your trembling anticipation, I have nothing.” Garcia giggled. “The school’s waitlist, and their applications, are handled by a firm called Gordon & Stanheight. And it turns out, they handle the applications and waitlisting for five other preschools in the area.”

“Which gives the UnSub a perfect way to pick his victims.” Morgan sighed. “The first interaction that gets him hooked might not even be in person-”

“Unless he’s picking them out of the line-up on paper and then waiting to meet them in person?” Prentiss replied. “With this type of guy, the smallest smile, a nod in his direction - that could be consent in his mind to play father to a household that’s missing one.”

“You said they handle forms for five different schools? That just widened the victim pool.” Rossi groaned.

“And the suspect pool.” Garcia added on. “The firm has thirty male employees. And I did a bit more digging - the preschool applications have ten ‘optional’ questions on the bottom that are definitely not marked as such. Questions directed at the parent filling out the form, rather than vital information about the child. Things such as: ‘what’s your favorite food?’, ‘when is your birthday?’, ‘what’s your favorite color?’, ‘do you plan on having more children?’ - typical survey schlock,”

“That would explain why the UnSub served Lisa Laird a birthday cake.” Reid sighed. “He knew it was her birthday two days before he killed her.”

“I have a feeling I’m not gonna like where this is going.” Emily sighed.

“Oh, sugar. You probably won’t.” Penelope easily agreed. “The ‘optional’ part of the forms is sold off to other companies as survey data. And those forms are seen and handled by over a thousand male employees of Gordon & Stanheight’s larger ‘data processing’ sector.”

“Well the UnSub has to be local to Portland. So narrow down the suspect list based on his last known address and go from there.” Hotch said. “Also, it would be someone who has a criminal record. Someone committing this level of violence wouldn’t be a first time offender.”

“Gotcha.” Penelope said. “Penny G, out.”

…

The team ended up raiding Gordon & Stanheight’s Portland based office.

After some pointless conversation, some threats of lawsuits, and some even larger threats of being detained for impeding an FBI investigation, the team was able to get their hands on the preschool applications. Over two-dozen boxes worth, that they would have to sort through.

So this left JJ, Reid, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss knee deep in paper, looking for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did.

“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers.

“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the house until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.”

“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.”

“So we’re hanging all our hopes on the idea that this psychopath needs time to ‘fall in love’ with his next victim before he kills her?” Prentiss groaned.

“Sadly, yes.” Rossi confirmed.

“It helps that most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.”

The rest of the conversation easily became quiet in Spencer’s ears when he saw it.

It should have been just another page among the sea of paper in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut. It pushed all the air out of him in seconds, it made him dizzy, made him struggle to breathe. Like a reel flashing through his mind, it brought back a flood of memories he thought he had locked away forever.

It was you.

What the hell were you doing applying for preschools?

Spencer rushed to tear this paper away from the others in order to read it more carefully.

Surely enough, the application was filled out in your handwriting. Something that had barely changed over the years. And it was all right there, laid out in front of his eyes, clear as day -

You had a son.

A son named Sebastian, who was three years old. Spencer checked the date on the form, eagerly looking for a birth date for your son. His birthday had just recently passed, actually, so he was four years old now.

And his birth date was… fuck.

He had been born eight and a half months, almost nine months exactly after the two of you had broken up. Your son had been born eight and a half months after the day you had left and Spencer had never seen you again.

One thousand, seven hundred and two days.

Four years, eight months, and two days.

It wasn’t difficult math.

Your son was the perfect age to be Spencer’s child. Was this Spencer’s child?

His hands began to shake at the very thought of it.

Is that why you had disappeared from his life with such haste? Because you knew that you were pregnant and you didn’t want Spencer to be a part of your child’s life?

Had you been keeping this from him intentionally?

He hadn’t thought about you in four long years, he had tried so hard not to. He had spent so long forcing himself not to miss you, and now he was struck with the realization that he might have a child out there with the woman he considered to be his regrettable lost love. A child he didn’t know - a child who he had missed four whole years with.

What the fuck was going on?

There were no pictures included with the application, and suddenly, Spencer found himself dying to see the boy. He wanted to know if there was any physical resemblance to himself, or if he was jumping to conclusions.

Maybe you had cheated on him. Maybe that was why you had left town and never contacted him again. Maybe the kid wasn’t his at all, maybe-

“Reid.” JJ called out gently, getting his attention.

Spencer suddenly realized that he was hyperventilating, staring down at the application with your name on it in his hand, wrinkling the paper as he squeezed it more frantically.

“Did you find something?”

…

All in all, the team found four different women who fit the victim pattern in the files - you being one of them.

So the team split up, ready to knock on each of the womens’ doors, preparing to warn them that if they received any gifts or saw any suspicious men lingering around them in the next few days, they should call. They had to hope that the UnSub wouldn’t move on from this victim pool if he saw the FBI around. But he was overly confident, he had contacted police before.

It could definitely work.

When Hotch found out that Spencer had known you, he said that Spencer should be the one to knock on your door. That you might find it comforting to hear that you and your child could possibly be in danger if it were coming from ‘an old friend’. Spencer stuttered over himself and didn’t have the words to explain that you weren’t just a good friend to him, but a romantic flame. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the team by telling everyone that the break-up had been messy, and sudden, and Spencer still wasn’t even completely sure what had caused it. He didn’t want to rip open his old wounds in front of everyone.

So he simply shut his mouth and got in the car with JJ, and they made their way toward your house.

…

“So…” JJ’s voice broke through the undulating silence of the car ride - filled by nothing but the sound of the car’s motor running and gears grinding inside Spencer’s mind as he tried to figure all of this out. “I do have to ask the obvious question,”

“What is that?” Spencer probed, slightly glad to be relieved of his own thoughts.

He wasn’t so glad when JJ pried those thoughts out of his mind and spilled them to the open air.

“Is the kid yours?” She wondered aloud. “I mean - when did you and Y/N break up?”

JJ had known you as Spencer’s girlfriend.

Come to think of it, she was probably the only person on the current field team who had some kind of a relationship with you back when you and Spencer dated.

Initially, it had been by accident. JJ had driven him home one night after a particularly long and sleepless case, and you had been coming to his apartment to drop off some books he had asked for (shortly after he had given you a key). When JJ saw you, her natural curiosity got the better of her - even more so when you stuck out your hand and introduced yourself as ‘Spencer’s girlfriend’ without hesitation.

The two of you got to talking, and JJ invited you to ‘girls night’. You met Elle and Penelope shortly after. You had become pretty good friends with the three of them before the break-up.

But Spencer had always felt secretive…. well, protective of you. He didn’t want Morgan teasing him about you, or him wanting to have ‘guy talk’ about things that occurred in the bedroom. Not when it might mean talking about intimate moments with you. Spencer had only introduced you to Gideon over coffee about three weeks before the break-up, and that felt like a lifetime ago.

Back then, having you, Elle, and Gideon leave his life all in a matter of a few months felt like hell on earth. It felt like being grabbed by his ankles and shaken for all he was worth. He really wasn’t sure that he was ready to see you again.

It had been four years.

JJ was someone he could lean on right now.

“Four years ago.” He told her, completely honest.

“And how old is the kid?” JJ asked.

“Four - four years old.” Spencer stuttered out, realizing that now as he was speaking about this very real possibility, he might be breathing more life into it.

“Oh my god.” JJ sighed. “Well… could it-? I mean…? Did the two of you?”

It took Spencer a moment to clue into what JJ was talking about. He gave her a sideways glance and she took her eyes off the road for a moment, raising her brows and giving him a pointed look.

“Please tell me you know what does and what doesn’t make a baby,” JJ groaned.

“Oh!” Spencer huffed, a small wave of embarrassment flooding him. “Yes! God, yes. I know.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Spencer felt the need to clarify his answer.

“We - I mean. We…” He trailed off for a moment, clearing his throat. “We didn’t always use… protection. We were together for three years, at the time, it was on the table.”

“Kids were on the table for you back then?” JJ asked, clearly shocked by this. “I could not imagine little twenty-four year old Spence with a baby.”

“Well… it’s something I’ve always wanted.” He mumbled quietly in reply.

It was true. At the time, Spencer easily imagined himself getting married to you, having multiple kids with you. These days, seeing JJ with Henry and Will brought him the occasional underlying pang of jealousy - but since breaking up with you, there hadn’t been anyone else in Spencer’s life that he could have imagined having kids with. He thought that he was going to be alone and childless for the rest of his life. That the dream was long dead for him.

“Hey - then, maybe this is a blessing in disguise?” JJ posed. “If we hadn’t been looking through those forms because of this UnSub, you never would have found Y/N again. You wouldn’t even know this baby exists.”

There was another thing that JJ was dying to ask - something she held back because she felt like it was a touch too personal. (Even if ‘too personal’ was basically how the BAU team lived - knee deep in each other’s business, all the time).

She wanted to know why you had a baby, a baby that Spencer had very likely fathered, and you hadn’t contacted him about it. Spencer seemed entirely clueless about the child’s existence before now, and JJ knew that because of what his own father had been like, he wouldn’t just blow off a kid that was his if he knew that one was out there in the world.

So why hadn’t you told Spencer about the baby?

“What if the kid isn’t yours?” JJ wondered aloud.

Maybe that would unburden him. She knew that either way, Spencer would fight to protect you from the UnSub. But if the kid wasn’t his - he would walk away again, and he wouldn’t have to be hung up on the heartbreak of dealing with his ex just to parent a child together.

“Honestly… I think I’ll be more heartbroken if I find out that he’s not even mine.” Spencer told her, his voice quiet and already lulling with that disappointment.

That was not something JJ had considered. She frowned as she saw the sadness paint across Spencer’s face.

“One thing at a time, alright?”

…

When they pulled into your driveway, Spencer’s mind immediately began churning.

It was a nice house. It was a beautiful, quiet neighborhood. The front yard was clean and trimmed and there was a silver SUV in the driveway with a ‘baby on board’ sticker in the rear window. There was a rocking chair on the porch, but he didn’t see many children’s toys out front on the lawn. He guessed that was a good thing. Letting children play in the front where they could run into the street and potentially get hit by a car was too dangerous. He was glad to already see signs that you were a good mother.

Spencer felt like he was opening up a book halfway, desperately wanting to be filled in on the previous chapters while having missed so much. Still wanting to read ahead and see more.

He had already missed so much of your son’s life. He had missed you. That was something forming the biggest knot in his gut. He had truly missed you. The times he had allowed himself to think of you over these past few years - he had missed you so dearly.

And now the two of you likely had a child together.

Craning his neck to get a better look, desperately trying to take in more information, Spencer’s eyes were wide and hungry as JJ put the car in park by the curb in front of your house. As Spencer reached for the passenger side door handle, JJ’s phone rang.

“I have to take this.” She sighed. “You go ahead.”

She gave Spencer a distinct look that said ‘I know you need a minute alone with Y/N’, and he nodded, stepping out of the vehicle while she greeted whoever was on the other line. He smoothed down his tie - for once in his whole life, he was actually worried about how he looked. Only because he knew that he was going to see you. Perhaps he had only ever felt like this before going on his first date with you.

He had such a strange lashing of emotions going through him as he approached the door. Fear, anxiety, anticipation. Longing.

He truly had tried so hard to lock away his feelings for you when you had left. He had tried to move on. He had considered, briefly, in passing, dating other women. There had been times when someone else caught his eye, and he considered asking her out on a date. Morgan had offered to ‘set him up’. Penelope had offered too, telling him that he deserved to ‘get back out there’.

Whenever she asked about you, his heart freshly cracked open.

At one point, she had advised him to write a long, Shakespearian letter, pouring out his heart to you in an effort to get you back - one which she would mail. (Because of course, she could get your new address in a heartbeat.) But he didn’t want to experience the heartbreak all over again if you ignored him. He didn’t want to sit, waiting by the mailbox every single day like a lost dog, waiting for you to write him back in return.

You had disappeared from his life for a reason. Just like everyone else had. For a long time, Spencer convinced himself that he was simply meant to end up alone.

Perhaps if he had known about your son - a child that could very well be his - then he might have felt differently about getting Penelope to contact you.

But now he was standing at your front door, his fist shaking as he raised his hand to knock.

He let out a sharp breath and steadied himself, giving three swift, firm knocks against the door and then trying to wait patiently. His heart thumped inside of his throat, and it felt like forever.

“Sorry!” Your voice called out from behind the door, muffled. “Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-”

You cut off your own words as you opened the door - the moment you caught Spencer’s eye and recognized it was him, pure shock fell across your features, and you froze on the spot.

You were just as stunning as ever. You had barely aged at all - your hair was different than the last time he had seen you, of course. And you were dressed casually - wearing a simple hooded sweatshirt with a drawstring and a pair of jeans with some fuzzy slipper boots on. But pale blue looked so good on you.

So much like the pale blue dress you had worn on your first date with him.

You were breath-taking.

“Y/N.” He greeted you, his throat dry already.

You didn’t say anything, simply continuing to stare him down with wide-eyed shock.

Seeing you again, Spencer couldn’t help but to think back to that first date.

The first night that he knew he was in love with you.

…

He had taken you to see the Virginia Symphony Orchestra.

It was Spencer’s idea of a good time - and it ended up being one of the most beautiful, most romantic, most unique first dates that you had ever been on.

It was difficult not to fall for him with the beautiful music in the air and his glossy eyes, so sickeningly thick with affection, staring you down all night.

Afterwards, the two of you stopped to get ice cream at a small shop that was a short walk down from the orchestra. And now you were both enjoying your ice cream as you walked along in the cool night air - enjoying the peace and quiet and the gentle breeze in the darkness.

It was a perfect night.

Spencer could think of no better way to spend it than with you. The yellow bulbs of the street lights practically cast a glow onto your skin, the mulberry lipstick now worn off your lips as you brought the pink spoon to your mouth and licked up your sweet treat.

His stomach was churning with nerves. Joyous nerves.

And as per usual, when he was nervous - he rambled.

“You know, Bach actually married his cousin.” He said, spouting off the first thing that came to mind.

You told him that Bach was one of your favorite composers - it’s why he had thought to bring you to the orchestra on a date in the first place.

“I did not know that.” You giggled. “So what? Was it like a ‘third cousin twice removed’ type situation?”

Spencer found himself grinning at the fact that you actually engaged him in the conversation, rather than staring at him with an odd look for bringing up such a strange topic.

“Not quite.” He replied. “They had the same surname before marriage.”

“Oh, ew.” You chuckled again, giving a shudder at the thought of this.

Spencer knew it was an odd topic to discuss on a date, and if he rambled on too much, it might freak you out - but he couldn’t stop himself. His mouth ran away with him, and he continued.

“He married Maria Barbara Bach, and they had seven children together.” He told you. “His sons, Wilhelm Friedemann and Carl Philipp Emanuel became composers and musicians much like their father, which was actually carrying on a legacy started by Bach’s father himself - who was a seventh generation musician. He was the one who taught Bach the organ from a very young age.”

“Why don’t people play the organ anymore?” You wondered aloud. “Except in churches, I guess. The organ rocks.”

Spencer’s brain began rocketing off at the fact that you had asked him a question. A question he could answer.

“The organ has actually long been associated with divinity.” He replied. “The instrument rose in popularity alongside Catholicism throughout the eighteenth century, and in a sense, that was part of what made Bach a sort of ‘rockstar’ of his time. The religious references in his work, and his mastery of the organ - all of it made him incredibly popular at the time because it caused him to be favored by the church and by royal figures associated with the church.”

Spencer gleamed a large smile, heavily enjoying that he could share these facts with you. He thought for certain that any moment, you would change the subject or imply that he should stop talking. But instead, you engaged the conversation more.

“Religious references?” You questioned, wondering what he meant by this.

“Yes!” Spencer grinned, suddenly very excited by the explanation behind this. “Even in his secular music, Bach would often incorporate the acronym ‘INJ’, a Latin abbreviation that means ‘In Nomine Jesu’, or ‘in the name of Jesus’. It was something he put on all of his manuscripts.”

You grinned back. You found it fascinating that being around Spencer for such short periods of time caused you to learn so many things. It easily made you want to be around him more.

“Interesting.” You replied.

“And his talent on the organ was seen as something that made him ‘divine’ at the time. Divine enough to be worthy of performing for royalty.” Spencer added on. “In 1708, Bach got a position as the court organist in Weimer for Duke Wilhelm. And later when he requested early release from this position, desiring to go work for Prince Leopold of Koethen, the Duke actually had him arrested and put in jail for several weeks in 1716.”

Spencer laughed at this mental image - the composer being put in jail.

“Ooh, harsh.” You sighed. “But I guess Dukes have too much power.”

Spencer let out another bright laugh at this.

“And see, the interesting thing is, Bach later became the conductor of the court orchestra, in which Prince Leopold played.”

“So he got his wish,” You replied with a smile.

“And see-”

Spencer set off on another rant again, and you couldn’t help yourself. You put your spoon into the cup of ice cream and then you used your now free hand to reach out and grab Spencer by his tie - you pulled him toward you before he could get anymore words out, and he let out a shocked, choked-off sound when you pressed your mouth into his.

He sighed gently against your lips, and unconsciously dropped his own melting chocolate cone on the ground by his feet as his limp hands drifted toward your waist. He was dizzy, and now every single fact he had ever known about any composer had vanished from his head. In that moment, standing under a random street lamp on a random sidewalk somewhere - all he knew was the soft, pillowy feeling of your lips and the cool night breeze against his skin.

It was perfect. You were perfect.

You found his intelligence and the enthusiasm with which he spoke to be so utterly irresistible. You had been on so many dates with men before where they had acted like talking about their interests was a chore. Where they had made it seem like the whole thing was simply a routine, waiting for the end of the night so they could get into your pants. And for them, that’s what it probably was.

But Spencer was nothing like that.

He spoke about everything with such intense passion - and you couldn’t resist the urge to try and suck that very passion off his lips.

When you were forced to pull back slightly, your lungs crying out for oxygen, Spencer let out a gentle moan and began puffing out sweet little pants across your chin as he tried to catch his breath. You kept a hold of his tie, wanting to keep him close, and he stayed there, gently pressing his forehead against yours.

“That was… wow.” He sighed.

“I didn’t think I would ever find you at a loss for words, Doctor Reid.” You replied with a giggle.

“Well, I - you - wow.”

It was all he could muster, causing you both to break down into laughter.

Back then - everything had been perfect.

He had no clue where it all went so wrong.

...

A/N: I really hope everyone enjoyed the first part! I would really love to see 10 Comments - in the form of replies, comments on reblogs, or asks (anonymous or not) and 20 Reblogs before I post the next part.

The series is technically finished in my drafts and just needs to be edited, but editing is usually the most difficult and tiring for me, and I would love to see some support and love for the series before I continue working on it, knowing that more people want to see me put effort into it. So please do leave a comment - even in the tags of a reblog - telling me what you enjoyed about it if you have read this far. It is much appreciated <33

#IT HERE !!!!#star squared #also somewhat unrelated but I feel like I used emojis a lot more this time around #idk why tho sksksks

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