#also bats always bats in case it wasn't clear many bats on this day

[canadianno]

The random cultist refs are done!!!

9 of these were done on one canvas, exception being Maon because they're my favorite and I also made it a few days ago.

Character rambles are under the cut!

vv Down here!

🐱 Fena: Fena used to be the head farmer in the cult, undeniably fantastic at their job despite her low faith. She's been in the cult for a few years at this point, and their faith has steadily grown. Enough that, when the time came, Fena was tasked with managing Leshy for the first few hours of his indoctrination into the cult. Fena was- worried to say the least, but.. he wasn't really violent. Or even that mean. He was just scared, and.. they understood that pretty well. The Lamb let Fena keep the job, since her and Leshy seemed to get along so well. They haven't failed at corraling the bishops yet, but all 4 being in the cult might finally break her. Might.

🐸 Dreiden: Dreiden is the first child ever to be born into the cult, instead of taken in from outside it. He's about 10 years old, and there's been quite a few kids born in the cult since, but everyone is especially fond of him. Surprisingly, it doesn't seem to get to his head that much- likely due to his parents. Dreidens parents are Eligos and Mertre, which to many is an odd pair. Eligos, a past disciple of Heket, known generally to be closed off and outcasted- and Mertre, the best lumberjack in the cult, well respected with high faith. Dreiden is best friends with Tratta and Webber, two similarly-aged kids in the cult who he's taken it upon himself to take care of.

🦇 Tratta: Tratta was found as a toddler in Silk Cradle by a missionary. It was said that they found her in a destroyed village, but the clothes she was wearing suggests that really- she was the child of a heretic who was killed by the missionary. Tratta, in the story, is about 7 years old. Tratta has always had poor eyesight, being a bat, but it was only recently, after a bad bout of sickness, that she went fully blind. She's been struggling to get used to it. Tratta doesn't have a guardian, instead residing in the nursery with Webber and a few other unclaimed children. She's been in the nursery for long enough that she's figured she'll never be adopted.

🕸 Webber: Webber is a strange case. A 'ressurection' that the Lamb did not consciously preform, welcomed into the cult nonetheless. Webber crawled out of a grave barely a toddler, and has been in the cult for a few years. Webber is about 8. He scares the other cultists quite a bit, always holding a wild spider or two, and never seeming to get hungry. He is very close to Tratta and Dreiden, being the third cornerstone of their little friend group. Webber is extremely close to the Lamb, pushing any who wanted to adopt him ever further away. The Lamb is... aware of this, to say the least, but they haven't mentioned it aloud- and never publicly seem to favor him over any other. Publicly, that is.

🐮 Mertre: Mertre is one of the most well respected cultists in the settlement. Strong, noble, faithful and fair, Mertre is popular among the public. There is only one thing about her people do not like- and that is her choice of wife. Mertre is the wife of Eligos, a former disciple of the bishop Heket. Mertre loves her wife alot, and through her is quite close with most of the other bishops' disciples. Mertre is the best lumberjack in the cult, and was a rescue from Helob the spider. Mertre lived in Darkwood before indoctrination, but no one's quite clear on what her life used to be like. Mertre is a loving mother to her son, Dreiden, and is certain to often remind him of how well he has it here- and that things outside of the cult are much worse. She makes sure that Dreiden knows to be kind to all that come from the outside.

🐢 Puno: Puno is an elderly disciple, and the first of two head disciples in the cult. Well- as it stands, one of the ONLY two disciples in the cult. Puno is the only disciple to survive the battle with TOWW, being the only disciple who stayed behind to watch the cult. Puno has watched silently as the rest of the disciples and most faithful who he once knew have rotted from the palms up inside of the healing tent. Puno is unquestioning, though, and has little a complaint. Her only complaint is that she's growing ever older, and cannot continue to do her job for much longer. They have conferred with the Lamb, and Puno believes they have chosen the correct cultists to become the newest disciples. He hopes he chose well.

🦐 Treyson: I cannot explain this character to you chat. Please don't ask me about him he's a half joke made by my best friend and we love him too much to get rid of. He gets a wife later and everyone in the cult finds him strange and scary- except for the Lamb, who sees absolutely nothing wrong with this guy.

🕷 Nurse Fear: Fear is relatively new to her job as the head nurse, and she knows she's only the head nurse because the Lamb cannot make a bishops' past disciple anything of high rank, lest they face mass dissent among the flock. Nurse Fear was initially called something else, but decided to change her name to the nickname the cults children gave her. She thought it was funny, and found it more fitting than her old name. Nurse Fear is skilled at her job, but still often turns to Kallamar's disciples for advice. She doesn't always get it.

🦊 Tymer: Tymer has been in the cult for a relatively long time. No one's quite sure how he's managed an extended lifespan like he has, seeing as he has no skull necklace. Tymer is the cult bartender, and also often works in the kitchens, known to be a talented cook with knowledge from a past life in Anura. Tymer is known to have a deceased child with an unknown second parent, but.. she never seems to be that bothered by it. Tymer is... well known. To say the least. And is a very familiar face in the healing tent, despite her protests each and every single time. They often get into physical fights with Maon- and, they just have NO idea WHY Maon hates them so much!! It's such a complete and utter mystery!!

🐶 Maon: Maon is one of the Lambs most beloved followers. Maon has been in the cult since some of its earliest days, him and his twin brother having been ressurected multiple times. Maon has pined after Barbatos since the centpides indoctrination, and the two are known as a couple. Kinda. Maon is a cult guard, and the only one who remembers that they were originally found surrounded by the lifeless bodies of other heretics in Darkwood is the Lamb. Maon is very protective of the Lamb, and earned the silent favoritism by sharing stories told to them and their brother by their grandpa- who was a sheep guard dog in Concolor, before the genocide. Many assume Maon would have been made a disciple by now, but their constant fistfighting with Tymer is costing them the role. Maon hates cheaters, and is ENEMIES with Tymer.

[diagnosedpsychosis]

Hidden Feelings

Description: The reader has a thing for her boss, but is too oblivious to see the feelings are reciprocated.

Word Count: 1.7k

______________________________________________________________

Like the cliché it was, everyone could feel and see the tension between you and Hotch, except for the two of you. The lingering stares, the inevitable smiles when the other looked away, you and Hotch were drawn to each other like a moth to a flame, a very blind, very oblivious moth.

It always managed to work out perfectly that the moment you looked away from Hotch, his eyes would subtly shift over to you and where you sat. From his office looking out at you in the bullpen, on the jet, even in the rear view of the suburban, Hotch loved looking at you.

He loved the way your full lips curved up and the lines beside your mouth as you smiled. He loved your eyes and how you subconsciously batted your eyelashes at him anytime he stood above you. He loved all your little mannerisms, and that he was usually able to read you as if he was in your mind listening to your thoughts, feeling your emotions.

He loved your little quirks and the fact you were the kind of person that'd actually 'touch wood' to protect yourself from bad luck. He loved the fact you'd always smile and wish a person you passed on the footpath a good day, before taking a big step so that between each square pavement you'd have taken exactly three steps, because two was too little and four were too many.

He loved the fact you always kept change in your purse, and that whenever you saw a gumball machine at the front of a store, you'd stop, pull out a coin, slot it in and turn it until one popped out the bottom. And then if the gumball was orange you'd hand it to him, leaving him no time to turn it down before you were getting another one. He liked the colour orange and he loved that you knew it.

He loved it when you noticed the number '64' in everyday life, because it was your favourite number, and you'd always point it out.

'Half of 64 is 32. Half of 32 is 16. Half of 16 is 8. Half of 8 is 4. And half of 4 is 2' You would always say. You loved even numbers, and whenever Spencer made the comment that half of 2 was 1, an odd number, Hotch loved watching you smack the back of his head. He also loved that not too long after he'd catch you apologising to Spencer for hitting him.

But what Hotch loved the most about you, was how late at night, when it was just the two of you alone in the office, you would always accidentally first name slip. He loved when you would accidentally call him Aaron, but he loved the way you'd stutter and apologise, face red and flushed in embarrassment, even more.

There wasn't a single thing, good or bad, about you that Hotch didn't absolutely adore about you. Sometimes you got too emotionally involved in a case which wasn't a particularly good thing, but it made you work extra hard, and it always made you the perfect person to talk to a victims family. You were insanely empathetic, and felt for another person like they were your twin.

Sometimes you'd let people walk all over you, but after a conversation with somebody like Hotch or Rossi, and even sometimes JJ about standing up for yourself and being true to what you feel and believe, you'd come back harder than ever. You'd grow a backbone 10 times stronger and Hotch genuinely adored watching you evolve.

Hotch loved you more than anything, that much was clear, but he didn't take it that way. He didn't think he could love somebody he wasn't actually involved with, but he certainly knew he's admired you to no end and that if you were to fall off a cliff, he'd jump off after you. He loved you.

You thought Hotch saw you, purely as another acquaintance, a subordinate he was on a team with, but you couldn't be more wrong. To be fair, you had a hard time at reading him more than you did anyone else. His face always remained passive. He didn't smile much, and whenever you did catch each others eye he would be quick to break eye contact. But when you did catch him looking at you longer than usual, it seemed more like he was looking through you, when in reality, he was daydreaming about you.

It was another late night at the office, and you'd been busting your butt on completing the case file from the murders you and the team just solved. You'd gotten to emotionally involved again. Nothing bad happened, in fact it made you find the unsub faster because your mind had been running a thousand miles an hour, but you knew you shouldn't have, because being so invested in a case doesn't always end the way it did this time.

Sometimes it helps, sometimes it jeopardises things.

Almost falling asleep, you stood up and headed towards the kitchen, needing a fix of coffee. Finish the case file and go, that way you could sleep in a little bit whilst everyone else completed it in the morning. But you were surprised to find out you hadn't actually been alone in the office all night. Sitting at one of the small tables in the kitchen was Hotch.

"If you'd rather migrate to the kitchen table I'll happily steal your office from you" Hotch knew you were in the office somewhere, but he hadn't expected you to come into the kitchen where he sat. He looked up from the case file he was working on, and immediately the sight of your smile warmed his chest. What he didn't know, was the sight of his smile in greeting did the exact same thing to you.

Pointing the tip of his pen up to the roof, he finally spoke. "The fluorescent lighting is keeping me awake."

"I think going home might work better" You stated, walking over to the coffee pot to make a fresh batch.

"You ever think about taking your own advice?" You glanced over your shoulder and grinned at Hotch, finding him still watching you, his pen on the table. He was giving you his full attention and whilst it made you nervous, you couldn't deny the way it warmed you.

"My logic behind it is if I finish the case file now, it means whilst everyone else is doing theirs tomorrow I can sleep in" Hotch snorted at your explanation.

"You certainly deserve one. You did good, really good" You turned back towards him, leaning your back against the bench. You placed your hands on either side of you, eyes locked with Hotch as you frowned slightly.

"Yeah?" Your voice was so soft and unsure, all Hotch wanted to do was protect you at all costs, all day every day forever. He slowly nodded his head, his smile warming your body and drowning out your worries.

"Yeah, y/n. You did" He replied, the soft gaze of his pulling a sigh from you. You had been doubting yourself and your judgement on the case since the second you felt your emotions expand. Getting reassurance, and from Hotch, meant everything.

"I know I got a bit emotionally involved-"

"And because you did we found the unsub, and Emma Harlan alive. You should be proud of yourself" You grinned.

"And the team" Hotch scoffed.

"Sweetheart, the team would be nothing without you. This isn't our victory, it's yours" Your cheeks flushed as you looked down at the ground, struggling to take the compliment and push aside the fact he'd just called you sweetheart. You wanted to heart it again and again until you got sick of it, but you don't think you ever would.

"Thank you, Sir" You mumbled softly, Hotch shaking his head ever so slowly, the expression on his face unreadable as he stared at you. You wished he felt what you felt every time you looked at him, little did you know he did, and more.

"Aaron...just Aaron" The kitchen went silent, the two of you unable to look away from the other. You could feel it, the tension, and you were sure he could feel it too. No two people, who are purely acquaintances look and breathe that way around each other.

"Thank you, Aaron."

"Are you vegetarian?" The question caught you off guard and confused you beyond belief. How did that have anything to do what what the two of you had been doing and talking about.

"Pardon?" You asked again, just making sure you hadn't heard him wrong.

"Are you vegetarian?" Slowly, you smiled and chuckled, shaking your head in a 'no'. You certainly were not a vegetarian, and you knew Aaron knew that, but you didn't know why he was asking so.

"No. Never."

"This kebab joint opened up just down the road from my place. I've been meaning to try it out, but I haven't really had the time, or any good company. Sometime, would you...maybe want to...." Aaron trailed off, hoping you caught his drift. You did. Your cheeks flushed which made Aaron's smile burn brighter. Was this the easiest way he thought to ask you out? Ask if you're a vegetarian, knowing your not, and using that as leeway into asking you out for food? It didn't matter how he did it, you just couldn't believe he was asking you out. It had been a dream come true for years now that he was finally doing it, it felt like a dream.

You quickly nodded your head, Aaron's shoulders sagging in relief as your smile stretched wider despite you biting down on your bottom lip. "Yeah, yes."

"Alright. Friday?" You nodded quickly again, filling your mug with coffee before backing away towards the door, needing to leave before you screamed and then collapsed in front of him.

"It's a date" You said, leaning against the door as Aaron smiled, slowly nodding his head as he repeated after you, in disbelief he had finally worked up the courage to ask you out after years of fawning over you.

"It's a date."

[dizzlypuzzled]

Me knowing this was meant to be funny: what if it was just angst?

Danny looked up at the broken bodies of Wonderwoman and Flash. The flesh was barely hanging on.

He always wanted to go to space, just not like this.

"This way," Batman whispered as he limped along. Danny could tell he was trying not to think of his friends. Danny also wished he'd told the JL about what all he could really do.

Superman had been mind controlled by an alien this time, and unlike last time, Danny hadn't been available right away with them all being on another planet.

"So...Darkseid, he's like a god?" Danny asked as he stepped carefully. It wouldn't be the first time he's met up with powerful beings.

He looked at one every day in the mirror. He didn't want to tell Batman yet just in case.

He needed to know everything before he did anything.

Batman paused as he looked up. There floating in the sky was a blood covered Superman glaring down at them with red eyes.

"You truly thought that your little pet can save you?" Darksied asked as he leaned down to stare at the two.

"I expected someone bigger to be honest," Danny said and he could feel the Bats panic. Darkseid laughed as he reached but stopped when he felt it.

Dread. Unrelenting dread slammed though everyone. Batman fell to his knees as Superman fell from the sky.

Darkseid stepped back as Danny grinned. His eyes glowed brightly as the color themselves seemed to shift from around.

Batman looked at their last chance with horror as he realized that whatever Danny was, he wasn't just a meta.

"Darkseid, so many crimes committed, and you believed yourself above Death?" Danny asked taking a step forward. Superman tried to rise, but he fell once more as his eyes stopped glowing red.

He held a hand to his head as it cleared. Darkseid growled out and lifted a hand to hit Danny.

Danny vanished into nothing as yhe hand came down.

"Now, now, Death isn't that easy to avoid," his voice carried everywhere all at once, and while Batman tried to get his feet under him, he felt hands on his shoulders.

He looked up to see Diana standing there with a smile.

Flash was next to her.

He could see through them. He looked over towards Darksied to see Danny standing there on his hand. Green flames around him.

"Threatning Earth? That threatens my realm, and I take that threat very seriously," Danny warned as a white ring of light surrounded his waist and he changed.

A blue flamed crown lit up over white hair and a long cloak circled him.

"Darksied had declared War on Death itself, and I am her weapon," the being stated and something charged the atmosphere in energy. Batman reached forward hoping for...anything. for it to stop, to precent this being from killing anyone, to get the being to end Darkseid once and for all so they didn't have to worry.

Bruce didn't know, but he knew that he'd been the one to bring the young adult who had helped and only asked for his sister’s tuition to be covered.

"I am King Phantom of the Infinite Realms. And you have threatened my people!" Phantom yelled as power wrapped around him Darksied screamed as he used his omega beams only for Phantom to catch the shots in his palms and turn the energy back on Darksied.

"You wanted to fight like a God, Mortal?" Phantom hissed out as he stepped closer on nothing but air. "Then you better hope your people pray." Green fire raced around of of them as Batman watched Phantom grabbed Darksied's throat and launch him into the sky.

Phantom turned to Batman.

"Superman will be needing your help, Dark Knight. I have this covered, and Diana will explain," Phantom informed as he followed the wannabe God into the sky. Batman turned to see Superman staring at his blood covered hands.

Batman looked to his friend that seemed to glitch slightly.

"King Phantom is kind and protective of his people," she whispered helping him up. Batman couldn't tell if she was there or not.

He wasn't sure if he dead or if this was real, but he knew his friend needed him.

"Clark." Tears streamed down the face of the Man of Steel.

"What have I done?"

Note: I wrote this during lunch instead of working on my wip. Hope you suffered enjoyed

DPXDC We've been trying to reach you

Danny used his Overshadowing power to break Superman out of mind control ONE TIME, and now every hero team on the planet (plus Lex Luthor) is trying to get him on their payroll. Every time he opens his email or mail box he's assaulted by job offers from some of the most powerful people on the planet like they're trying to contact him about his car's extended warranty.

They don't even know he can kick ass either, they're just under the assumption that he's some random civilian with the most useful meta ability ever.

[veterveter]

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

OKAY, TUULI. OH GOD!

Mi amor, mi corazón, mi cielo. Te adoro! Te amo! Te quiero montones. 

I'll grab my bat and go with you: This title, this willing misinterpretation of things🤣. It's fucking genius.

Martín winced. “Let’s steal a crocodile or something instead. A zebra. A hippopotamus—”: 🤣🤣🤣. Are you scared of a little flying rat, Martín?

“They can carry rabies.”: Such a baby🙄. Andrés being the rational one? Gosh Tuuli this is hilarious.

"Kuru disease,": Okay, this is awful I know. BUT from a purely biological standpoint it's so fucking amazing and intresting. It's really morbid but I'll have you know I have 'opinions' on Kuru😆.

 “Did I tell you that one, or did you tell me?”

Andrés wasn’t sure. They had known each other for so long, it was like they had entertained every single conversation, or at least some version of it. And yet – or maybe because of that – Andrés never tired of his company. No one else could ever rise to his level so quickly, let alone stay on it, the way Martín did. In every conversation, in every eventuality, Martín always met him halfway.: I just love when they are an old married couple. Okay. It's so good and so mushy. Them knowing the other better than themselves. That is relationship goals.

If one of them was ever researching a morbid and fatal disease, it was usually Martín.: Here Martín is me. I get so invested in horrible and unprobable diseases. It's for anthropological curiosity.

There truly were many bats. Rows and rows of bats, of different colours, and shapes, and sizes—: Is this heaven? Appreciate it Martín, this is beautiful.

“I’d rather steal anything else that was big and golden.”: I love shiny golden things but BATS are better, dear Tinchito. I'm kind of a magpie too, tbh.

“The large flying fox,” Andrés said with a nod: Beautiful friend😍

“I hate that you would choose to point this out. Like it could also be a vampire bat. Like there’s the option that one of those might fly into my face and suck my blood and give me fucking rabies.”: Martín is like my mom in this I swear🤣🤣🤣. They are beautiful, important and peaceful creatures, don't hate them Martín. It's thanks to them that we have wine after all. You should be grateful just for that.

“They don’t suck blood; they bite you and lick it off.”: Blood lickers🤗

Its wings are too big. What could it possibly need them for? If you know, please don’t tell me.”: Oh the things I could tell you, querido.

“You should, honestly. They’re beautiful.”: I love you Andrés. Thanks for appreciating art in all its forms. Not like the idiot of your soulmate.

“Next you’re going to tell me that they’re a masterful feat of engineering.”: They ARE. They are evolution at its finest.

“Andrés,” Martín said suddenly, in a croaky voice, and when Andrés looked at him, there was a haunted look in his eyes. “I hate bats, and I want to leave.”: Poor baby. You're being an idiot but I can relate *Spiders* 😖.

But he had assumed it was just personal preference, not some… deep-seated trauma.: Now I want to know what happened to him. Martín having a horrific animal encounter would be just hilarious.

His discomfort made Andrés uncomfortable, and Andrés could be considerate – when it came to Martín, anyway.: Oh Andrés, awwww.😍

“Figures it would be in Spain,” Martín said, a little bitterly. Most of the time, he was all in to steal back the treasures of his country. Apparently he did not extend that courtesy to bats.: YES!!!!!!! Our beautiful Latino heroe. Take back all our gold mi amor. AGUANTE ARGENTINA!🥰

Or he would have found something else for them to steal. A crocodile or a zebra.: 🤣🤣🤣

Martín said, and Andrés watched as he picked up the bat gingerly in his gloved hand, like he half-expected it to come to life and attempt to drink his blood. “I look forward to being rid of it,” he said.: You don't know how lucky you are, corazón. But at least you touched it. I'm counting that as a win.

He trusted Andrés so much—: Awwwwww, my loves😍. Came here not only for the BATS but for Berlermo too, after all.

This little bat was going to be worth a fortune, if they made it out alive.: Yessssss!!!!!!! Bats are just priceless. But apart from that I'm reading this as that bat being the 'holotype' for Eptesicus ulapesensis. And if it is the holotype, yep Andrés your right sweetheart. It's very worthy.

He grabbed Martín’s hand.: Yes grab his hand. Grab his everything, go ahead I give you permission.

What was that surprise other ending😳. I'm really curious now.

Tuuli, Tuuli, TUULI! This is just perfect my lovely. Just what I didn't know I needed. Perfect birthday gift. One of the best I'll ever be given I tell you.

Gosh it's not even 8am and you and Kal have already made my day. What am I saying MY MONTH! I'll be grinning like a fool for the rest of the day.

And seriously there is simply no way for me to express my gratitude and the love I feel towards you. You have my heart:

Not much else to say. I love you friend and I'm so grateful that I got to meet you. Now you'll have to tell me when's your 'cumple' cause I gotta repay you with my love. 

Truly thanks for this, you made this a perfect birthday. And I'm so grateful, I love you Tuuli.

Have some cuties to show my happiness and undying love:

Te amo, corazón. Gracias por el magnifico regalo. Te adoro de aqui a la luna.♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Manuuuuuuuuu I would say that these words are entirely too kind but—but one does not argue with the Birthday Girl. What you say is law. *serious nod* But honestly, I’m so glad you liked it. So very glad. Thank you for throwing this ask at me (I’m glad tumblr is starting to be less hostile to your asks!), it honestly made my day. And next week, too!

Hahaha I found that title more hilarious than I had any right to, possibly. I was talking on the phone with my boyfriend when I thought of it and I was like “this is awful I love it will you allow it??? Allow it or not but I’m doing it—” I’m really glad you found it amusing too!!!

Oh, Martín is not scared of the flying rat, he’s terrified of it. Full-on chiroptophobia (not that he’d ever admit this, not on his life), boy needs therapy (boy’s not getting therapy).

I’ll admit, with only very little shame, that Kuru disease is one of my favourite Wikipedia rabbit holes. I just find that very interesting. Martín, because he’s awful, especially likes how it disproportionately affected women and children. :’D Consider this your invitation to give me all your Kuru opinions. Or all your rare and creepy disease opinions, in general. My curiosity is morbid, like yours. ❤️

I agree, they’re so precious as an old married couple! It just suits them so well. They spend all that time in the monastery, just by themselves? Old married couple, it’s basically canon.

Martín: I would like to die right now get me away from these fucking bats— Manu: But you are in heaven, querido! Me & Andrés: Just hanging around, vibing, eating popcorn. Bats are pretty cool.

Martín absolutely has had a horrible bat-encounter, the poor thing.

I’m personally really gay for the idea of Martín wanting to steal back the treasures of his country, I mean it’s canon and he absolutely 100% deserves it. So does Argentina, all of Latin America—you do that, boy. Steal this bat, rob Banco de España, do all of it. ❤️

Hahaha there’s mostly just bats in this one but sometimes there’s also Berlermo. That’s just the way of the world, they can’t exist together without being a bit gay for each other.

While you obviously don’t need to write me anything (how could anyone ever outdo the beauty of Sparkling Dutch Nights, anyway???), that is very precious and greatly appreciated and I’ll tell you my birthday is January 7th!

Also!!! Thank you for these bats I (obviously) love them!! This is such a nice niché interest to have in common with someone, honestly. Bats!! ❤️

Cue me also grinning like an idiot for the rest of the day (or the upcoming week), my friend, your joy just made me so happy. I'm happy I could make you happy! I’m glad you liked it. Really glad. This was one of those Jay Gatsby parties hosted for the benefit of one person only, and you were that one person. 😍 Lots and lots of love, I'm so happy to have met you!!!

Yo te amo también ❤️❤️❤️ ¡Feliz cumpleaños!

PS: Also, since you asked so kindly (and the birthday girl gets what the birthday girl wants!) here’s the ending I wrote last night with my boyfriend (read at your own risk, bearing in mind that it was 2am and we were both feeling less than intelligent):

It was 2am. 🤣🤣

Happy birthday!!!! Again! ❤️

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

I’m On Fire [Chapter 1]

Summary: With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.

A/N:  This is the first part in a series, I’ve written the first few chapters already so I’m hoping to update pretty regularly! I hope you guys enjoy, and any feedback is always appreciated! ❤️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Category: Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst, it’s a Slow Burn Baby

Warnings: None really for this chapter, cursing? Mean-ish Spencer

Word Count: 6.5k

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist 

I wasn’t at the BAU long before it started to feel like home. The team became my family, pure and simple.

Having been recruited by Hotch at only 22 I'd sort of fallen into the roll of the little sister to the team without really meaning to. It's not that I was naive, or particularly sheltered even. I know I'm good at my job, and I'd want to be, given how my life's revolved around it almost entirely. But the team seemed to adopt a protective mindset over me right off the bat.

When I first joined the FBI everything was terrifying. I worked so hard for my PhD, trying to get into the unit, but there's almost nothing that can actually prepare you for the real thing. Being out in action in the field, working the cases out in real time. Sometimes they had a smooth, easy conclusion followed by loud obnoxious drinks together. Then there were the others, the ones that kept me up for days after and felt as though they owned little pieces of my heart still.

It was JJ that helped the most on those horrible flights back on the jet. Noticing my anxious ticks and uneasy disposition after that first case that had ended badly. JJ had been through it all before, taking too many cases home with her. Seeing her son's little faces in the kids that we couldn't help. If I was the baby of the team JJ was the big sister, looking out for everyone.

Morgan on the other hand was the outrageously cool older brother, the one you just wanted to be. Early on he'd helped my weak self with the ruthless fitness regimen the FBI required, he offered to pull some strings and get the test written off. But I couldn't accept that, there was something in me that just wanted to impress Morgan, and honestly still does. Like somehow if he thought you were cool, then it became true. So I passed the exam, but getting up a flight of stairs was near impossible for a week after.

Emily was probably the fun aunt. The one that would sneak you booze at the family gathering, or take you to your first concert. Emily was actually the one who'd found me, digging around colleges for potential recruits she'd had me picked out for a while I later found out. Insisting that Hotch give me a shot. It was reassuring to know I had someone who would stick up for me from day one.

I was an tech analyst, among other things, sort of a counterpart for Garcia in the field. So it was no surprise to anyone when the two of us hit it off as though we'd known each other forever. We weren't the same by any means though. Penelope was bold, and bright, and confident beyond measure, where I've typically felt like more of a blend into the background type. I've always thought of myself that way, despite my achievements. I'd also always believed I was fairly inoffensive, no one I'd met had ever had a huge problem with me, 'till I got to the BAU that is.

Every rose has its thorn I suppose.

That thorn in my side was Dr. Spencer Reid.

It wasn't that Dr. Reid was a bad agent, or even a bad person. I hadn't actually met him before that first day in the conference room, but I'd known who he was for a long time. Before I came along he'd held the mantle of 'youngest ever recruit' in the unit, while I was studying I'd read any of his work I could get my hands on because of that fact.

I figured it must've been some sort of hazing when he looked me up and down that first day I was introduced, and then proceeded to blank me entirely for a full week. Up until I'd wrapped my first case.

The whole team went straight from the jet to the bar. Proceeding to get far too drunk. Spencer joined, which the rest of the team found unusual, and I probably should've taken as a sign of things to come.

That case went well, and everyone was in high spirits but Reid had a sour disposition, at least it seemed that way every time he looked at me. After a few too many drinks I went outside in an attempt to sober up in the cold air, unfortunately Reid must've snuck outside not long before.

"Ugh" was all he said when he first caught my silhouette approaching him. The night was unusually cold so it had been deserted outside the bar that evening. I wasn't really sure why it made me nervous to be alone with him like this, the two of us leaning back against the same small area of brick wall, looking out at the cold night.

"Nice to see you too doctor" was all I could muster, I was drunk enough that I let my sarcastic tone leap out, "you can relax, I'm just trying to get some fresh air, it's too stuffy in there, and loud. I'm not here to talk to you or anything."

"Well aren't you a sensitive thing" he responds in kind, at that point I wasn't really sure if it was a coincidence or if he'd been genuinely avoiding me, but things were starting to clear up.

"I'm sensitive, that's a fun take on things" I joke, taking a long sip of cold water from my glass.

"And what's that supposed to mean, newbie?" his emphasis on the last word all but confirms my suspicions.

"Fuck man, what's your problem with me? Is it because I'm new, or because I beat your stupid record?" I quip. hoping that at the very least it might coax him out of his shell. Dr. Spencer Reid getting angry at me could honestly be better than the nothing I'd been experiencing from him until now.

"What stupid record?" he sounds genuinely confused

"I'm the youngest BAU recruit now?" I didn't know why else he could be so sour. He'd never met me before last week, and since he'd ignored me that first day I'd done all I could not to step on his toes. So if he had a reason to hate me this much, it wasn't something I'd done on purpose.

He takes a few moments to respond, raising his eyebrows and considering the information. He chuckles. He fucking chuckles.

"That's funny." he says, his voice leveling out, "I didn't peg you as funny newbie" that word sets something off in me again. Something about it is dismissive, or belittling. Before I could fight back he starts to move, maneuvering around me and heading back inside. A little too tipsy to think of anything constructive to say, I just mutter "Fuck you Spencer."

He swings open the door, as he walks inside he just says "See you Monday, Newbie" without even looking at me.

And that was only the beginning.

----

"You know I'm just trying to make sure you get enough rest sweetheart. There's no need to get so defensive!" it was far too early in the morning to be dealing with this call. Since joining the BAU a few years ago this was a standard call from my Mom. Equal parts well meaning and over-bearing, and generally asking far too many questions.

"I'm not getting defensive Mom, I get plenty of rest, my job is just very important to me and you know that." I knew she was right to be at least a little worried, this job was consuming, and in all honesty I wasn't sure how people like JJ were married and still here. It seemed like an impossible feat.

"Fine sweetie, how are your co-workers doing then? How's Penelope? Give her my love" she loved Penelope, I think she thought that Penelope tethered me to the normal world, and in a way she was right. She kept me sane, and fun, and made me eat pizza and do face masks once a week at least. Even when I didn't think I wanted to.

"Pen's great Mom, everyone's good. Well, the usual ones get on my nerves, but I'm fine." As I say it I glance across at Dr. Reid, the only person who's also in as early as I am most days. I'm not sure if he can hear me but he's tapping his pen so loud on his desk that it takes all of my energy not to walk across the bullpen and stab him with it.

"Y'know what Mom, I'm actually just after getting to work and it's a busy day so can I call you back later?" I chance, getting her off the phone is always an ordeal.

"Fine, fine, I'll let you go. But wait one last thing!"

I knew what was coming. It was always coming.

"Are you seeing anyone, Margot's been wondering too, just thought I'd check in?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose and trying not to scream down the line, I just sigh out the frustration instead.

"No Mom, believe it or not, I've made no progress on that front since you asked me all of 3 days ago."

"See you are being defensive!" she snaps

"I gotta go, bye Mom. Love you!" I say, hanging up quickly before dropping my head down into my arms on my desk, resting like that for a few moments in silence.

Hearing Garica chuckle behind my ear I perk up and spin around. She's holding a small paper cup of coffee and hands it to me. I look at it confused, "Sorry about the paper, I couldn't find your mug in the cabinet" she apologizes, looking over at Dr. Reid and rolling her eyes. Now I know he can hear me from his seat, he takes that moment to sip from my mug and place it gently back on his desk.

It hadn't taken long for him to start toying with me. It was always stupid childish things. Things I couldn't get genuinely annoyed at, that would give him far too much satisfaction, knowing he was getting to me in any real way. This was one trick he liked to play if he got into the office before me, he'd take my mug and make his coffee in it, just to spite me I guess.

"Why does he even do that, it's so stale" she said, just a little louder than normal to make sure he could hear. Garcia and Reid were still good friends and team-mates but she liked to stand up for me when she could. He liked to avoid me as much as possible so he'd usually go to Garcia before me if he needed help with something. Even when the two of us were out in the field together. Which was obnoxious but it was just another thing I'd gotten used to over time. And as long as it didn’t interfere with the case I just forced myself to let it go.

"I know it's such low grade bullying isn't it?" I shot back with a chuckle.

"So I'll take it that was Mommy dearest" Penelope gestures to my phone. She knew my Mom, and she knew about her general overbearing energy. I let out a groan thinking about the call again, and the calls that were to come.

"Isn't it always Mommy dearest?" I joke

"So she's still on your ass about the wedding then?" I'm sure Penelope was almost as sick of hearing about it as I was,

"Margot's getting married in like 4 months now, and every time Mom calls there’s just some new hometown loser she wants to set me up with Pen. It's fucking exhausting" I take a sip of the coffee she made me, savoring the bitter taste. She sits down on my desk for a moment, leaning in.

"Honey, did you ever think that if you got out there and found someone, she wouldn't be on your ass at all?" I don't want to think about that, about how she's completely right. All I can do is let out another small groan and lean back down onto my desk.

"Too early Pen" I say, it's muffled by the desk but she gets the message. Hopping up and heading to her own office as some more people start to arrive for the morning.

Leaving me alone to make a start on my paperwork that had built up throughout the week. Fridays were usually slow like this, giving me a little too much time to think. I couldn't shake the thought that my Mom and Penelope were actually right. Maybe I was a bit too invested in the job, and maybe that was a pretty big factor in why my last relationship imploded but I wasn't about to admit that to anyone.

----

After that the day crawls by, thankfully no cases pop up so the weekend might actually be free. Trying to make sure I clear up all of my paperwork takes a little longer than I'd hoped and leaves me alone in the bullpen. It seems like everyone's gone home by the time I've packed up and I'm ready to leave. Which wasn't as out of the ordinary as I'd like it to be really. Everyone else seemed to have somewhere to be on a Friday night.

Waiting for the elevator to arrive my phone started to ring, I could see my Mom's caller ID on the screen. If I just let it go I know she'll call back later, may as well get it out of the way. I take a deep breath in anticipation before I answer.

"Hey what's up?" I answer, stepping inside the elevator as the doors ping open.

"Hi sweetie, I've got good news! Do you remember David? That lovely boy, he helped out your Father that summer in high school?" I know what's coming and rub my temple, trying to stifle the headache I know is coming. As I answer a hand slides between the elevator doors, popping them open again.

Dr. Fucking Reid walks in, and he looks about as happy to see me as I am to see him. I make eye contact and look away just as fast, willing him away with my mind. "Yes Mom, I remember him, why are you telling me this?" I already know the answer but I'm fed up, she still sounds excited when she responds.

"Well you won't believe it! I ran into him at the market this morning and I thought you'd like it if I passed on your phone number to him, maybe for the weddi-" it took all I had not to shout into the receiver, and maybe I would've had the elevator been empty.

"Mom! Jesus!" I have to reign myself in, but I have a bad idea, "You know what, I'm actually sorted. I've got a date lined up now" I'm not sure why I said it with no real plan in place. She sounds even more excited than I've ever heard her.

"Oh my, that's amazing sweetie! That was fast, I can't believe you found one since this morning, it's someone from work so?" she assumes, and I'm just not thinking fast enough to correct her.

"Mmhmm, yeah" I'll figure out the logistics later I rationalize.

"Oh! Is it that boy you're always on about, the one who teases you?" she asks, and her voice is full of joy, and it makes me feel horrible that I'm lying already, and that I'm going to let her down.

"Yup, that's the one, look Mom I gotta go, I'll talk to you later! Night" I blurt out so fast it has to be obvious I'm nervous.

I can hear a stifled chuckle behind me. Fuck. How loud is my phone speaker. Could he hear that. Surely not. But this elevator was completely silent. The doors open and I have to stop myself from running to my car at top speed. Instead I walk out just a little faster than normal, turning around to shoot him a small wave goodbye. And he's got this devious smirk on his face that makes my stomach turn.

Sitting into my car I pull out my phone to text Garcia immediately.

I'm on my way to yours right now. It's urgent.

——

Traffic's light so it takes maybe 10 minutes before I arrive at Garcia's place. My mind's racing and my body takes me there on autopilot. Why did I say any of that, why did I even answer the damn phone. Why did I wave goodbye to Spencer, I never usually did that. Maybe that's why he had that look on his face. Maybe he was just thinking of something funny that happened earlier and it had nothing to do with me at all. That was something he'd do to mess with me for sure.

How was I going to walk this back with my Mom, she was just gonna have more questions that I couldn't answer. Fuck.

Garcia buzzed me up and her door was open for me by the time I got up the stairs. This little purple apartment had become my second home. It was where I spent most of my evenings off, laughing on the same sofa I was collapsing face first into right now. Garcia nestles in beside me and runs her hand over my hair, "Hey sweet pea, what's happening? I don't want to sound too concerned but you're not giving me much to go off? Are you dying, is there drama? You're going to have to tell me what's so urgent before I burst a blood vessel?"

I let out a muffled, "is drahmuh" into the pillow, Garcia shakes my shoulders.

"Sit up babe, damn!" I have to heave myself out of the pillows, sitting upright on the sofa beside her, clutching one of the pillows in my arms.

"It's drama" I repeat,

"Well, out with it then, you know I'll take all the drama I can get! Spill, spill" she rushes me along. I'm already apprehensive, Reid's her coworker too, but if anyone would understand why this was such an issue it was gonna be her.

"Okay, I'm after doing something stupid and I think I really need your advice" I cringe already, thinking back to the elevator, throwing out my words faster, I continue the story, mostly trying to get it over with, "my Mom called again when I was on the way out tonight and she was trying to set me up with this guy, and Reid was there, and I got all flustered, and I told her I had a date already" I throw my head down into the pillow again.

"Wait why was Reid there?" she looks like she's trying to fit puzzle pieces together and she's getting nowhere, "And what's the drama?"

"Shit Garcia, it was in the elevator and it was all quiet, and maybe he heard the call, maybe he didn't but he had this fuckin' look on his stupid face" I can't shake the smug little smirk, it's burned inside my eyelids. Garcia's face falls in what looks like disappointment.

"Ugh Y/N! That's nothing chill out, why does it matter if he heard your call? I know you guys are all weird but none of that is any of his business anyway!" she shoo's her hand in the air, dismissing the whole situation.

"No Garcia, it is his business now" I have to close my eyes when I say it, I can't look at her "I told my Mom that he was my date, well, I didn't say his name or anything, she assumed it was someone from work and so I just agreed, and then she suggested that it was him and then I fucking panicked Pen, I fucked up so bad. What do I do?"

I finally opened my eyes to look up at Garcia. She was sitting in pure silence, pursing her lips in what seemed like contemplation. The puzzle pieces finally slotting together. It's as though a light bulb goes off behind her eyes and she bursts out in fits of laughter. Doubling over on herself before finally taking a few breaths to calm herself down. I'm honestly not sure why she finds the whole thing so funny, she know's how needlessly annoying he's made my life, she's seen it first hand and heard me talk about it over and over again in this very apartment over pizza.

"Garcia, this is not fucking funny! This is serious!" I try to calm her down, I need advice not whatever this is.

"I'm so sorry Y/N, I love you dearly. But this isn't funny, this is hilarious. It's like you're Sandra Bullock in some mid-90's rom com. I love it" I don't love it, in fact I hate it. I nearly snap at her but pull myself back.

"Pen, come on, help me out. What do I do with this, how do I fix it?" I plead.

She stops laughing and pulls out her phone, "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm going to order us a pizza, and we're gonna sort this thing out together, sound good?" I just nod and collapse back into the sofa. I think I feel better now that I've gotten it out in the open.

----

Penelope makes us tea while we wait for the pizza, she keeps lemon & ginger in her cabinet for me, just like I keep mint for her. The warm mug and the steam calm me down. After a few minutes alone to think about it I start to figure it out a little better. I figure I can just lie to my Mom for a while, it might suck but I can pretend for a bit and then make up some excuse as to why he can't come closer to the time. Then I can just bring Garcia instead and everyone's happy. I'm about to float my plan to her there's a knock on her door. I was so caught up that I hadn't really noticed quite how starving I'd gotten. Leaping up of the sofa to grab the door.

I swing it open but it's not the pizza guy. Somehow it's the opposite of the pizza guy, my worst nightmare is on the other side of the door. He must notice my eyes blow completely wide. "Y/N!" he says, more of a statement than a question really, like he's telling himself that he's actually seeing me in the doorway. I'm not as gentle.

"What the fuck are you doing here Reid?!" I can't even disguise my anger. He seems a little flustered, like he's got absolutely no idea how to proceed.

"Um, uh, is Garcia here? I can, um, I can just come back later?" he swallows hard and shakes his head, before I can agree and tell him to get lost Penelope races to the door, pulling it wide open.

"Nope, that won't be necessary Doctor! Come on in, you're right on time sweetheart" she waves him in and he walks past me, his demeanor changing almost instantly. He's smug, like he's won whatever battle this was. And I hate it. Though he's still as confused as me despite the newfound attitude. Reid sits down on the sofa, right where I had been sitting. I bite my tongue and sit on the opposite end.

"Are you okay Garcia?" he asks with a genuine concern, "What's going on, what was the emergency?". He's not stupid, he knows she's not in danger now that he's here. But he wants answers. I don't know that I've ever seen him this confrontational with anyone, well anyone but me. The entire time I’m staring her down as she sits in the armchair opposite the two of us. My keys are in my pocket and my car's right outside. I could just jump up and make a break for it. Escape.

"You know what Doc, you won't believe it but I'm not actually the one with the emergency" she takes a beat, and I'm starting to think that I might understand why people murder other people after all these years, "Y/N has something urgent she needs to talk to you about" she's silent for another moment, and she almost looks giddy, "Actually Spencer, you might already know a little something about the matter already, now that I think about it" she smirks, and it's pure joy.

My keys are in my hand ready to bolt when the doorbell chimes again. "Oh, that'll actually be the pizza this time, if you two will excuse me" she hops up out of the armchair and races to the door, leaving the two of us alone in a horrible silence. The tension is almost too much, I want to speak but I really have no idea what to say, or how to even start saying it. But he starts.

"Y/N what's going on, I feel like I'm out of the loop here? What am I missing?" he asks, and there's something uncharacteristically genuine about the way he says it, but he can't turn to look at me as he speaks. I almost want to let my guard down and just have a conversation but I can’t force myself to do it. "Shut up Reid." is all I mutter, folding my arms across my chest.

He turns sharply on the sofa to face me. "Hey Y/N. Believe it or not I'm about as happy as you with whatever kind of Parent Trap situation Garcia's got going on here. But from what I'm picking up on you've got a problem and I'm supposed to be able to help with it. So do you want to tell me what's going on or not? I can just go?" I can see that there's an anger bubbling right below the surface, threatening to burst. I know I shouldn't but I let him stew in silence for a little too long and he jumps up off the sofa.

"Y'know what, typical" he mutters, rolling his eyes as he says it, "this is all about you." he throws his bag over his shoulders and begins to walk towards the door. Something in me just snaps.

"All about me?! Are you fucking kidding? I've been tip-toeing around you for years, ever since I joined this damn unit!" I shout as Garcia comes back into the room, pizza box and plates in her hands.

"So, who's hungry?" Garcia asks, trying to break the tension, or pretending there's no tension at all. Reid shakes his head in disbelief and rubs his temple before he speaks again, "Actually I was just gonna head out" he gestures to the door, "I'm clearly not wanted here so I'm gonna leave you guys to it." Spencer makes a move to leave but Garcia grabs the strap of his shoulder bag, yanking him back ever so slightly before he really has the chance to escape.

"You are going absolutely nowhere kid" She points back to the sofa, "get back there" she glances to me, staring with far too much intensity. "You too, sit." Her voice is more stern than I've ever heard it, even while we were on a case. I can't help but obey her command and I sit back down on the sofa in silence. Followed by Reid, clearly processing the same uneasy feeling of a serious Penelope.

She sits opposite the two of us again. "Y/N, Spencer, I love the two of you with all of my heart, albeit separately, and I would die for either one of you. But you've got to chill the hell out!" she says it like she's had it bottled up forever. The tension that releases from her as she says it looks euphoric.

She opens up the pizza box and lays it on the coffee table and takes out a slice for herself. Taking a bite she leaves the two of us in stunned silence. Once she finishes the mouthful she turns to me specifically, "Y/N you tell him, or I will." dead serious. And the feeling in my belly is like I've just fallen down an elevator shaft.

My stomach is in knots as I turn to Spencer on the sofa next to me. His face is puzzled and I think I might be able to make out pure terror in his expression. I don't know that I've ever been looked at like this before and my stomach screws up tighter. I have to take a deep breath and I can't believe I'm about to say it. "Fuck it" I have to take another breath almost immediately so I just have to force the rest out, "I don't know if you heard the call I was on while we were in the elevator earlier?" I look up to gauge his reaction and I can see his face relax, and worse than that, one corner of his mouth lifts into a sort of smile. It's a look of pure smug satisfaction and I think I might scream. I have to close my eyes because I really don't think I can look at that face as I say the next part.

"My sister is getting married in a few months and my Mom's been on my ass to find a date for the wedding and she keeps trying to set me up with these losers, so I fucking panicked, and I told her you were my date." by the time the sentence is out my eyes have screwed up so tight it feels like I have to pry them open.

He sits in silence for too long. Thinking, maybe?

"So I'm the boy who teases you then?" he grins. So he did hear. And he did laugh. He looks far too self satisfied. Now he knows he's right. He knows I've talked to my Mom about him, that he's gotten in my head. I can tell from his smile that he's savoring the moment. Mostly because I can't slap the smug smile off his face I drop my head into my hands. In an effort to disappear I guess.

"So," he says, taking a moment, "is that all you wanted to say then?" he asks, lighthearted and obnoxious, back to his usual self. I snap back to reality, shooting my head back up.

"What do you mean is that all?" I throw back genuinely shocked,

"Is that all you had to say Y/N? Can I go now? It's a long bus ride home y'know" he smirks but makes no effort to move. He can't possibly be making me do this.

"Well no, obviously!" I stutter, "I mean, are you, will you, uh?" I can't bring myself to say it out loud. He leans in on the sofa looking directly at me, refusing to break eye contact.

"Did you have something you wanted to ask me Y/N?" I just want to smack that fucking look off his face,

"Fuck you Spencer Reid" I almost whisper under my breath, but Garcia snaps me back to reality.

"Hey!" she looks at me, stern again, "Ask him." it's not a question, or a suggestion, it's a command.

"Fine okay" I scrunch my eyes up again, "Will you come to my sisters wedding with me as my fake boyfriend?" I curl up into myself as I say it, I can almost feel the bile rising up from my stomach. Like I'm having a biological reaction to the whole thing.

Reid crosses his arms and sinks back on the sofa, like he's performing the act of thinking. He's considering my offer to make me squirm.

When he finally speaks he says "Well I would Y/N, but I really fail to see what's in it for me" he's after getting cocky now.

Garcia pipes up, excited, "Oh, Oh! I know! I have an idea!" she interjects, "Spencer remember how a while ago, back after your apartment flooded you were all all worried about your antique books and prints and stuff?" he nods, "Well Y/N could digitize the collection for you as a back up? I know you're a technophobe? C'mon Y/N, you know you could do that no sweat, and it would take you a lifetime alone Spencer?" I really don't want to admit it but she's right. Even I knew Reid was adverse to any technology that wasn't vital, but it was your specialty. And maybe that was a good trade off, a job like that would be near impossible for him to pull off without help. I take a glance over at Reid and he seems to have had the same train of thought as me. He lets out an exaggerated sigh and relaxes his posture.

"Fine, I guess that's a fair trade. I'm in." he resigns and I almost can't believe it. I'm barely processing the whole conversation as he sticks his hand out to me, I'm confused for a second before I grab it and shake it firmly. Condemning myself to whatever's about to happen. And it's not the time to be thinking about it but maybe this is the first time Spencer and I have ever touched? But I shove that thought away.

Garcia's positively beaming and she's not even trying to hide it. "Now it's like you're both in a Sandra Bullock movie, oh, but you're Hugh Grant maybe?" she points to Reid.

"Don't push it" I shoot in her direction, taking a slice of pizza, now that my anxiety stomach has sort of passed.

Once the pizza's been eaten in near completely awkward silence Spencer stands up off the sofa. His unsure demeanor has returned and he looks nervous. "I actually should get going this time" he says but Garcia pipes up to protest,

"No, it's not even late!"

"It takes me a while to get back home, thank you though Pen. For... this?" he gestures to the whole living room, "Night" he waves. He's almost made it to the door before I stand up out of my seat. I'm not really sure what comes over me, maybe it's gratitude, maybe it's guilt, or maybe I'm just exhausted.

"Wait Spencer. Let me give you a ride home?" I ask and it's like it's not even me saying it .

"Thanks, but I think I can make it home just fine" he dismisses, and there’s an antagonizing tone in his voice that snaps me right back to our usual rapport.

"I'm trying to do a nice thing here, fuck! Just let me do something nice!" I snap, and he throws his arms up in surrender.

"Fine alright, if it'll make you feel better"

"Fuck you Reid" I mutter under my breath and I sort of hope that he does hear me really. If he's gonna be hostile about this I can be too. I give Garcia a hug goodbye but I'm going to scold her for this whole thing later.

----

I lead the way outside and climb into my car, Spencer hops into the passenger seat and it feels as strange as always to be alone with him. Especially because it's not an accident, and it's not in work. Maybe this was a horrible idea. He seems like he's unwilling to break the silence, so I just get it over with.

"Where the hell do you live man? I'm gonna need directions." I say, as deadpan as I can muster, which probably isn't all that intimidating.

"Sorry, yeah, so you're gonna want to turn on the ignition" he teases. I definitely wasn't intimidating enough.

"Don't push it" I say, turning to give him a cruel stare, he just reacts with a smirk, that same one from the elevator earlier.

"Oh, I'm pushing it?" he asks, feigning disbelief

"I'll kick you out of this damn car" is all I can think to say. He barely responds, he just lets out a soft chuckle. I want to ask 'what's so funny' but he speaks before I can get the words out.

"I can't believe you talk to your Mom about me" he continues to laugh. That's enough.

"You know what Reid, of course I have! I work with actual murderers on a daily basis and somehow you've been the only real source of friction in my life since I joined the BAU!" He stops giggling a little, but not entirely, he looks like he's making an effort to contain himself.

"I'm sorry. I guess I just never knew I got to you like that" he still finds the whole thing amusing, but I sure as hell don't.

"Directions, now" I demand, looking straight out the front windshield.

"Fine, keep going straight on this road for a while and I'll tell you when to turn" he says, finally playing nice.

The two of us drive silently for most of the journey, the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually we arrive outside his building, and it's nicer than I thought it would be. But I have no idea what I was really basing that on. For some reason it hadn't occurred to me that Dr. Reid lived in an actual home, I had pictured him sleeping upside down in a cave maybe, or in a cryogenic chamber with all the other life-like genius robots.

"So," he says, breaking the silence, "When is this wedding?"

"4 months from now, in and around" I respond, matter of factly. Spencer nods, taking it in.

"Alright, so I've got 4 months, in and around, to learn enough to convincingly pass as your loving boyfriend. Doesn't sound so difficult." he jokes, his tone harsh and sarcastic.

"Look Spencer, I know this is insane and honestly kind of stupid. But in all seriousness, you can back out right now if you're not on board with whatever this is. I'm telling you this is the last exit ramp." I try to say it with sincerity, giving him a genuine out if he's not comfortable with the weird set-up that Penelope pulled on us both. He thinks on it for a moment and shakes his head.

"So how are we gonna do this?" he asks, and I really thought he was going to back out. So I don't have an actual answer.

"Well, I uh, I haven't really given a plan much thought. How about I come over and start working on some of the stuff you want digitized like Garcia mentioned and I can use the time to give you the footnotes on my life?" I suggest, at least that would make it easier to knock things out all at once. Rather than having to spend even more of my free time with Reid than necessary. He looks content with the improvised plan.

"Alright, sounds good." he undoes his seatbelt and opens the door to hop out of the car before turning back to me, "Are you coming inside or what?"

— —

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

[monsoonblooms12]

Detectives By Chance: Chapter 7- Hide & Seek

Summary of the Series: It was supposed to be a usual weekend for the four. Coffee, fun, friends and love. But an unexpected case changed their lives in a way they had never imagined. A mystery - a murder - many secrets… Will Ethan, Pooja, Alexandra and Mark, be able to survive? Or will the circumstances twist and break their lives forever?

A/N: Okay, let me get this straight. This is ALL Action and Miles being evil. The most happening chapter of the series, and my favourite chapter because it brings out that fighter inside Pooja. Also, a lil bittersweet moment because only 2 chapters are left, and then we are done. (And I am using my Wattpad cover for this chapter because A. I like it! and B. It gives me the dark feels that embody this chapter) Anyway, hope you enjoy it as much as I did when I wrote it!💛

If you enjoy the story, please like it, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going💕

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Dr Pooja Sharma)

Word Count: about 4.3K

Rating: Teen

Triggers: Curse Words, Mentions of blood, murder Gun Violence

Disclaimer: PB owns most of the characters. I only own the OCs and my MC.

Prompt:- @choicesaprilchallenge2021 Day 14: Now or Never

CATCH UP HERE: Previous Chapter I Complete Series

It took all of her self-control as she prevented herself from throwing away her phone and breaking it into a thousand pieces.

Only the thought, the hope of a chance to save her Ethan, to save Mark and Alex, who were like family to her kept her going.

It was A Now or Never Moment for her.

Seconds later, Pooja's phone tinged. The screen lit up. She unlocked it to see the address that glared from her screen towards her. The address that hid all secrets and all proofs. The address which held the love of her life in who knows what condition.

She got into the car, entered the address on GPS and drove as fast as her driving skills allowed. Her mouth turned dry, face pale, beads of sweat on her forehead, her mind whirling through numerous unpleasant thoughts and a lingering doubt,

Will she be able to save them?

After what felt like a lifetime to her, Pooja arrived at her destination. A mid-sized mansion stood tall amid a deserted locality. The place was so muted, that the silence seemed to make voices. The winds gushed, chilling her bones. She stood in front of the black wood door. The silver handle's shine was unsolicited for her eyes. She took a deep breath.

Do this, for them. They are your family.

The thought repeated in her mind like verses of an orison. She let the ire, the woe to flood her soul and with fortitude and balance, she pushed the door.

He had kept it open.

The door clicked in place as she entered the devil's edifice. The interior was tenebrous, the conspiracy of silence etched deep in every wood and every wall.

"You are here"

The sudden sound caused Pooja to quail. The words resounded throughout the mansion, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. The sweat on her body contrasted with the rigour of the air.

There was no doubt in her mind. Her caller was here.

Miles Danvers was here.

But... She Looked Around. Where is He? She looked around, maybe it was a mirage. She looked everywhere but there was no sign of him.

"Don't try, You won't be able to see me." The ominous voice struck again.

Another chill ran down her spine. The thought of Ethan being unaccompanied in the devil's edifice with the devil himself was unbearable.

Will I be able to do this?

"Awww, Tsk, Tsk, is little blossom scared? Did I give her a heart attack?" Miles spoke mockingly.

That was the last straw. She would never give him the satisfaction of having scared her. With as much courage she could muster she yelled,

"AHHHH! You ruthless, sinister, cruel, heartless, disgusting monster. What the freaking hell do you want? Why the hell are you doing this? You are a goddamn monster, you are a freaking BASTARD."

She stopped for a breath.

"Not only that, you are a coward. You are a goddamn fucking coward. You don't dare to face the consequences of your actions. Hell, you don't even dare to come out and face me. If you had the courage, you wouldn't do what you have done. Now come out, you ruthless bastard. Get the hell out and come and face me." Pooja screamed hysterically.

"What will you get by yelling at me, hmm? Will Mark and Alexandra be out of jail? Or will you find Ramsey? Which one, huh?"

"You're the one who is responsible for all of this. You disg-"

"Do you want to save them?"

She felt as if her heart had stopped. Her mind pondering with hundreds of thoughts, doubts, yet she waited with batted breath for him to continue.

"Le silence signifie le consentement."

"J'accepte" Pooja muttered. Bloody Show Off

"Hmm. Three Clues, Three tips, Three keys. Three is your lucky number, isn't it? So let's put your luck to test and see if your lucky number is lucky enough to save your dear ones" Miles challenged her with a mock that boiled her blood. Seeing her helpless was utter humour for his soul and he was cackling in joy.

She shouted, hurled abuses, banged her fists, but there was no answer, no reply other than "You are running out of time... Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha...."

Her legs were giving out, she felt herself losing her balance, her steadiness. A chance, wasn't that all you needed? She heard her alter ego questioned her.

So good friends, like family, huh? Is this what you do for family, fall and bow to danger without putting up a fight? Is this what you did, when you fought for your mother, give up just like that?

Her sane mind was questioning her. No. She didn't give up then, She will not give up now. Maybe she will never make it out of here, maybe nor will they. But it was better to die fighting for them, than dying without even trying, striving for them.

"Miles", her steady voice, with power and courage, surprised him for a moment, but he wasn't shocked. This was Pooja Sharma after all. One who always stood for the right, even if it would make her lose her dreams.

"I am ready. And I hope you are too."

"Are you sure? This game can take that breath from you."

"Until it does, I will fight. For them"

A part of his mind already knew that she would win. But for his ego, accepting defeat was never an option.

"Fight all you want to. But winning is not an option for you."

"Time shall tell the answer"

"Alright, Two rooms to the left, and your search beginsss."

She ran. The worn-out door refused to give way to her. She pushed, but her strength was not enough. If only you had drunk that milk your mom gave you. Her mind swirled to the thoughts of her mother and she had to give a jerk to come back to the present.

"Seven minutes up already, and you're still stuck at the door. How sad!"

Cursing him under her breath, she upped her power and got ready to give a push just as,

Her fingertips felt a carving on the door. She had been praised for her impeccable sense of touch, but she never knew that it would come in handy in a dire situation one day.

Her mind, her heart, indicated that this was the clue, and she slowly, gently, moved her palm on the door. She got a slight trail of the carving and followed it further a few times. It took her about a minute to comprehend what it was.

A word. TIME. She was looking for something to do with time. But what? The place was so quiet that one would hear the ticking. But she didn't. Although auditory skills were never her strong point after she had a blockage in her left ear and had to go through five doctor visits to clear it, she was sure that there was no analogue clock around her. Her brain cells were running haywire when her shoes rubbed the floor. Sand had been spread around. Consciously.

Because on her trail from the main entrance to the door she was standing in front of right now, she was sure she hadn't felt sand anywhere other than this specific space. This was an indication, It had to be.

Time and Sand, Time and Sand, where do we find time and sand together. Time and sand... Her mind rushed frantically through a dozen options, none fitting the criteria, while Miles smirked at her foolishness.

And then, Oh shit, HOURGLASS! She practically jumped and nearly fell, as she comprehended the answer. With the newfound energy, she pushed the door, and it opened with a BANG! Her hand went to her pocket and she almost shrieked as she felt her phone, about which she had completely forgotten the moment she set her step in here. Taking it out and switching on the flashlight, she trailed into the room. Looking around and tripping on a dozen articles, she finally located the semi-broken hourglass. She held it under the flashlight and the words, upstairs, three rooms right, written in red, came to sight.

She glanced around the room once more, to make sure that there was nothing she was leaving out.

Her eyes stopped their search as her eyes fell on the five drawers of the broken cupboard on which the hourglass was kept. Only one of the drawers was in place, and that made it seem out of place in midst of all the chaos. She pulled at it, Once, Twice, Thrice, before it gave way. A blue file lay inside it. She picked it up, hoping to find some useful information and rushed on to the next step of her search.

On the other side, a corner of Miles's mind was terrified and nagged him to do something before it was too late, and he became the loser of his own game. But he just sat there, not moving an inch, as he watched Pooja running towards her next destination.

The next door, to her surprise, was pretty sturdy and opened easily. No catch this time? Unbelievable. As far as she had come to know Miles Danvers, setting up clues right in front of her eye was a far-fetched possibility.

She double-checked the exterior. Nah, nothing here, she was sure of it. Her silent steps fell on the hardwood floor as she looked around in the room for the clue. Her mind got distracted and worry came flooding back. Will she be able to save them? Was she even going to make out of her alive?

Suddenly, her foot struck something and,

"Twoooo Roooomsss Toooo Theee Rightttt..."

The Echo and her Shriek came almost simultaneously. And with the two sounds, mixed the third one of a cackle, from Miles.

The sudden rush of Adrenaline left her panting.

After a few minutes wasted in overcoming it, she kicked the weird machine once more. The Echo came again, this time clearer than the first one. But since, she didn't trust her ears, or maybe it was just her anger speaking, she kicked it once more.

Two rooms to the right was her next destination. She moved towards the exit, having checked the surroundings already and no clue found.

A few footsteps outside the room later, a thought struck her. She rushed back to the previous room, and using her flashlight, picked up the echo machine and checked it thoroughly.

And right her intuition was! A piece of paper stuck between the lined back. She took it out and unfolded it. It was a code.

M14-6D9

She looked around. There had to be something that opened with the code.

Wow! Such thorough checking! She rolled her eyes, berating her self.

And as she did so, her mind went back to every time Lex had called her the living image of the 🙄 emoji.

A light, sorrowful chuckle escaped her, along with a lone tear.

She let it drop and moved on to complete the mission she had partaken in.

She searched, and Nah, Nothing at all. Pooja doubtfully looked around. Was she missing out on something, or was it just another one of Miles' Red Herrings to mislead her?

Five seconds and temporarily deciding on the second option, she went out to the next room and thought of coming back to this later.

Pooja went to grab the surprisingly well-kept handle, and in a reflex pulled it back. The handle was abnormally hot. It felt out of nowhere. No fire, no nothing, how the hell was the door handle so freaking hot?!

Of Course, she couldn't twist and turn a burning hot doorknob and harm her chances of success. So, she decided on other ways of opening the door. She kicked, pushed, forced it with the tad bit of strength left in her, but the door didn't even budge a single inch.

Her ankle sprained with the forceful kicking, she sat down. Tears rolled down her eyes, but she couldn't decide why.

The pain in her ankle, the fear of failing or a mix of both?

But obviously, No pain greater than letting down those whom you love.

She couldn't comprehend the time she was losing as she sat there, crying silently. She slowly started to rise, but couldn't bother to wipe her tears. Wasn't this what Miles Danvers wanted to see? She let him enjoy his short-lived victory.

Forgetting that the doorknob was hot as hell, she held it, and before she could withdraw her hand, her eyes fell on a cuboidal machine stuck just below the spherical structure.

This time, she did wipe the water from her glassy eyes, to get a better look.

Pooja switched on the flashlight and looked closely at it. So this was the mini devil burning her palm. After a few minutes of scrutinizing the black box closely, her eyes caught a red button on the downside of it. She went on to switch it off, and as soon as she did, the faint, almost inaudible buzz coming from it stopped.

The devil had been silenced.

But she knew that it would take time for the knob to cool down. She searched her jean pockets, and luckily her baby blue handkerchief with a neat P Alekhya has sewn on it was there to save the day.

She folded the kerchief in half and with it tried twisting the knob. A Few failed attempts later, she slowly opened the door.

But as soon as the light fell inside the room, her phone and kerchief, both fell on the floor.

The floor swayed under her feet. In front of her on a one-arm broken couch, lay Ethan.

Her Ethan.

The only light-emitting source of the room now lay covered on the floor, preventing her from taking a better look. And she was shaken to the core by the way events unfolded, layer by layer, that there was nothing to say at all.

Her brain froze, all ideas drowning down the drain, her confidence uprooted by the pain she felt seeing her love like that. A Thousand thoughts spiralling in her mind, but she pushed them aside. Her knee bruised by the fall, her feet wobbled as she tried to get up. Garnering strength on an empty stomach & little sleep was becoming increasingly difficult for her, but she needed to go on.

Giving up was never an option

She got up and decided to look around for a way out of the musty building with Ethan, all while hiding from Miles' eyes. Because he had been keeping an eye on her.

Picking up her phone, she directed the light around the room. Raggedy and Unclean, her fingers clenched around her phone as she felt fury fill in her veins. If she didn't have morals, she would have killed Miles herself at that very instant.

There were no cupboards or drawers anywhere around the room. She strolled around with careful steps and heard dry leaves and glass crunching underneath her foot. Pooja looked at the floor, and seeing its condition, didn't hope to find anything helpful.

That's when her eyes fell on a piece of paper. She picked the dust-coated sheet which had become brown from its originally white colour. She tried opening it up using a single hand but ended up tearing it a bit. Pocketing her phone, she opened the sheet up gently and then took the phone out again. Flashing the light, she slowly went through the contents.

It was a map of the building, and she had never felt as grateful as she did at the moment.

She studied it closely, carefully and located a narrow stairway at the corner of the first floor, i.e. the floor she was on, that would lead her out of the building without having to use the main entrance.

She needed to take E out of here, at any cost. But how in God's name was she going to carry her Dr Giraffe alone, all while making sure Miles didn't have suspicions?

She made his unconscious body sit upright as the couch creaked. This broken shit isn't going to last much longer, she thought to herself. She couldn't take any chances of getting caught. Whatever you have to do, do it quick.

She bent and locked his arms around her neck. Then, she stood up slowly and an Uff! escaped her mouth. Wish I had paid attention to the weight lifting lessons.

Pooja lifted him off the sofa and enclosed his long, really long legs, around her waist. And as she started to walk, she stumbled back and forth, and almost fell, as she gained a stable posture. She slowly got out, making sure her shoes don't prompt the creaky floorboards to begin a musical. She scooted to the farthest edge of the floor and walked quickly to reach the darkest corner.

A walk of a lifetime and approaching the darkness, her eyes struggled to make out the door for the staircase. She trusted her intuition and slowly, very carefully, placed a foot in front of the other, as she made her way down. She worried that E might get hurt, and she would hate herself for the rest of her years if that happened.

The grey light at the end of the staircase was a ray of hope for her. She thanked her past self for parking the car closer to this side of the building as she hurried to place Ethan there. She felt her pockets and found the key faster than her expectation. She opened the passenger seat and placed E down on the floor because as much as she hated it, she couldn't take chances with Miles locating him in the car in case he came for a lookout.

Phew! She was relieved that whether or not she makes it out of the mess she had got tangled in, her love will be safe. Locking him safely in, she rushed back to the mansion.

On her way back, she rushed a bit too much, all while forgetting to switch on her flashlight. She tripped badly on the stairs and fell facedown. When she got up, the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. She felt a blank space in her mouth. She had lost a tooth.

She made her way back and expressed her gratitude to God for letting her make this trip safely. She remembered to shut the door behind as she left and made her quickly to the room where Ethan was held captive. A mistake she had noticed the time she looked at the map was that she had entered the wrong room.

And it was a four-leafed clover for her.

She closed the door of the forbidden room just as her ears pricked up. Tips & Taps of someone's footsteps made her heartbeat rush as she quickly moved to the actual room she was supposed to be searching.

"Hmmm" Miles arrived behind her, hands in pocket. The room in front of her didn't have a door.

"So are you planning to spend the rest of your life chillin' here? That'll be a wonderful plan!" He mocked her and the list of the number of times Poo had wanted to punch him had just become longer.

"What the fuck do you want?" She hissed.

A lopsided grin told her that he was having the best time of his life tormenting her.

"No, I just wanted to check if you will ever make out of here or not."

"And what conclusion did you arrive at?" She mocked curiosity.

"I think- No, scratch that. I am sure, that this" He gestured around him, "is your Final Destination"

His grim laughter filled the place as he went around, checking his surroundings, especially the forbidden room.

Poo had smartly switched on the Make-Hot machine to avoid any suspicions. Seeing, rather, feeling that the door handle was perfectly hot as hell, he returned, and she let out the sigh of utmost relief.

Her heart was filled with gratitude as she thanked God, over and over again, as things turned out in her favour in a place where she had no resource & no help. Although she still felt as if she had been left on the battlefield without preparation or weapons, she used her skills to pave her way safely.

The last room, surprisingly well-kept, lay open before her. Please let me pass this last one, she let out a silent prayer and went in.

Flashlight on, she looked around. This time it was only evidence and no clues and keeping that in mind she carried on her search. A bed lay at the centre of the room. All around were shelves and cupboards which had been kept to mislead her and make her waste her time. A 40% charge in her phone and the clock telling her that she had only 20 minutes left to get out safely, she hurried away.

Quickly opening one drawer and then the other, disappointment flooded her as she failed to locate any file, folder, hell, even a piece of paper.

At last, all drawers, cupboards done and nothing there at all. She felt let down, her heart palpitated. She sat down on the bed and as she placed her hand, heard the very soft scrunch of paper. The stillness of the surroundings was the reason why she could hear it.

She quickened her actions and lifted all the goddamn blankets, to reveal a bunch of paper, half folded, half-torn. She gathered them all. Suddenly she felt something stuck behind one of the sheets. Turning it revealed a USB drive.

Fuck, this was her gold!

She rushed out, picking the papers and the blue file she had collected from the first room. She remembered to check back the second one and the M something code. When she tried to reopen the door, however, she failed. All her trials went in vain. Unlike last time, the door didn't even budge this time.

And then, the entire manor shook as the roar of a bullet echoed all around her. It had been shot just next to her foot, and she stood frozen at her place. She slowly turned around, and saw Miles, with the evil expression on his face appearing to shine in dim light, standing there with a gun.

Slowly, Stuttering, Pooja asked, "What, what, t-the h, hell do you think you are, are doing?"

"I said I will give you the clues, I never said I will let you get away with them. Why would I invite my danger, when putting you to the deathbed would be much, much, easier?" Miles Danvers hissed.

"You want to do a second murder, lose the chance to save your brother forever?"

At the mention of Mark, Miles did fall a little weak, but that passed in a heartbeat.

"Girl, if I really cared about him, I would have never plotted against him in the first place. Bringing you here, was just a ploy, a mask, so that I can finish all four of you and live my life in peace."

He moved forward, one step and the next, as Pooja tried to run. He held her hand with a bone-crushing grip and twisted her hand to her back and held the gun to her cheek. She tried to free herself as she cried out in pain. Her eyes widened as the cold metal touched her skin.

She had really walked into hell at her own will.

Pooja knew her twisting and turning will not be able to help her a bit. So she tried to remember the self-defence techniques she had learnt in her teens and using her foot, kicked him hard in the groin.

He groaned in pain and his attention shifted. Pooja taking the chance, ran swiftly down the stairs, only to slip down the stairs and land on the ground floor. She incurred painful injuries and couldn't move for a good minute.

Even as she mustered the courage to sit up, her body ached in extreme pain. She must've sprained something real bad. Miles was still withering in pain, and she took the chance to get up and slowly move towards the exit.

She dragged her foot and muttered to herself,

Just one more step, just one more.

This rhyme gave her the strength as she almost made it to the door and then

AAH!

Blood splattered on the ground as the bullet pierced through her left hand, and she held the door to support herself. Tears rushed out of her eyes as Pooja screamed in pain.

At least it was her hand and not her mind that had been hurt. Even in pain, she acted smart. Throwing away the files that she held in her right hand outside, she took out the pepper spray that she always had in her pocket and sprayed a good bit of it at the approaching Miles.

It was her black, powdered dynamite, her most powerful weapon.

Coughing, Sneezing, Stumbling, Miles let out cries of help and the gun was very soon forgotten.

Smirking through her tears, Pooja chanted, It's the end Miles, It's the end.

Getting out of there, She shut off the main entrance door on his face and collected all the papers with her non-injured hand. Dragging her foot slowly, she escaped, pride and contentment filled in her heart.

Whatever she did, whatever pain she received, all paled as she bathed in the joy of the possibility of finally being able to rescue her people, her persons.

She did it, for her family...

You never know how strong you are, until being strong is your only choice.

PS: I would have killed Miles myself if given the chance😡 Also sorry for this dark, twisty tale after my birthday. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this mess and here's to hoping that you have a wonderful day ahead🧡! Love You!

Tags (Please let me know if you want to be added or removed!): @bbrandy2002 @whimsicallywayward15 @ohramsey @nervoussaladsludgeopera @trrfanaddict @hopelessromanticmonie @ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey @lovablegranny @bellcat2010 @gkittylove99 @kingliam2019 @starrystarrytrouble @3riche @chetachisblog @zoehanji @withbeautyandrage @drariellevalentine @mvalentine @aestheticartsx @angela8754 @schnitzelbutterfingers @ao719 @choicesstan1 @neotericthemis @arnikki-2406 @anotherbeingsworld @maurine07 @sophxwithers @twinkleallnight @choicesaddict5 @gardeningourmet @mysticaurathings @jessiembruno

[firemblem-fics]

Smitten Kitten [4]

one | two | three | four | finale

-> Pairing: Felix x Female!Reader | Hybrid!AU (mostly platonic idk)

-> Word Count: 1.2k

-> Genre: Mostly Angst

-> Warnings: HUGE TW - this chapter contains scenes of animal/human abuse. Do not read this chapter if you are easily triggered by these themes. Also cursing

-> Summary: You never wanted to be involved with hybrids. They were risky and had too many rules for you. But what will you do when a little black and white cat that you take in turns out to be the very thing you steered clear of?

-> A/N: I do apologize for this chapter being short and violent and whatever. It’s kind of just a filler chapter because I would like to have the resolution as a chapter itself lol

Hell.

Life without Felix was practically Hell.

In the two months that Felix had lived with you, you had become completely used to having another body in your house. Without him, it was extremely lonely. You often believed that you could revel in the quietness of your apartment, needing nobody but yourself to keep you company.

How wrong you were.

The silence was practically unbearable now. Even if Felix wasn't the most talkative of the bunch, simply having a roommate was enough for you. You learned to never take things for granted- especially someone like Felix.

The tuxedo cat hybrid messaged you as much as he could, compiling stories of activities that Doug and Karen made him partake in. They spanned from 14 hour work days practicing for different Hybrid Shows (Karen was quite the fanatic for Fodlan's Finest Pets) to up to three days locked in his room because he was rude to them.

The days where he had to hide his phone and refrain from messaging you were the worst. Like today.

You paced around Ashe's living room, practically burning a path into his rug as you trudged for hours, checking your phone in case.

"Y/N, I'm begging you. Sit the hell down."

This was the third time Ashe tried to ask you to sit. Your nervousness was definitely affecting everyone else, as seen by Sylvain, whose tail hadn't wagged during the entire hour that you were over.

"I can't Ashe, what if I get distracted and he messages and needs me? If it's an emergency-"

"Please, dear God, he's been gone for a week and a half. He's a big boy, too. Definitely capable of taking care of himself."

"But did you see him when they left! How he looked? It- it was awful. Sad. Whatever they did to Felix isn't just something to brush off. He didn't even try to argue with them- Felix always argues!" You spat. You felt a little bad for being so angry, but this was your friend, goddamnit.

Suddenly, your phone screen lit up and a notification sound rang through the apartment. You practically launched the phone out of your hands with how quickly you lifted it up, checking your messages.

"He sent a video."

"What does it say?"

"There's no other message. Just the video."

The screen was black. Your fingers shook as you pressed the play button. The first thing you heard was Karen's voice, the shrill soprano of her tone nearly breaking your eardrums.

"Felix, this is the third time today. Get the fuck out of the bathroom."

The camera then showed a bathroom and shakily pointed to the door, where the knob was wiggling violently.

"Fuck off!" Felix exclaimed just as loudly. Your heart lurched at the sound of his voice. He sounded okay.

"Felix, I'm not doing this anymore. Come out before I have to force my way in."

The camera flipped, now showing Felix. You gasped.

His hair was down from its usual ponytail, the strands framing his face messily. He always wore a frown, but this one seemed to etch deeper into his face. The real eyesore of it all was... well, the literal eye sore.

A giant bruise was blossoming beneath his eye, spreading down quite a ways away from the eye itself and onto his prominent cheekbone. He didn't seem to fret over it, of course, but you certainly were.

"If you're not doing this anymore, I should just go back to Y/N's-"

"Don't you EVER talk about her again, do you hear me Felix Hugo?" The door rattled again. "She's not getting you back. You belong to us and it's about time you act like it."

Felix rolled his eyes. "Really now? We'll see about that soon." He murmured. He stood up and turned the camera back towards the door, slowly walking up to it and unlocking it.

As he finally began to open the door himself, it swung open with the force of at least a hundred Karens. The video got a good view of her face before she noticed, screamed at him to turn it off, and lifted her hand. A loud smack resounded through the speakers before you saw the phone clatter to the floor and the recording shut off.

You finally looked up at Ashe, who was already looking at you. "Do you think this is evidence enough to get him back?"

He looked even more troubled than you, glancing over to Sylvain. You couldn't imagine how Sylvain may be feeling at the moment- he came from a similar situation, except with breeding instead of pageants.

"It's got her face in it and Felix has a visible wound. I think it's good."

You nodded and grabbed your bag, wordlessly leaving to Madame's. Ashe and Sylvain scurried behind you, not that you noticed. You were too focused on getting your Felix back.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

"We'll see about that soon."

You turned away from your phone at the next part, not wanting to rewatch your beloved hybrid get hit.

Nancy held onto your phone, watching the screen rather intently for someone who didn't give two shits about Felix. Ashe held his hand on the small of your back, giving it a few comforting rubs to calm your nerves. Finally, the video ended and she handed you back your phone.

"I just wanted to show you this and the other messages and videos as evidence that Felix is being abused by his owners. I know you hate him but he deserves a good life and-"

Nancy held up a hand. "Felix is the biggest asshole I have ever met. I may not like him, but animal abuse is still abuse."

"He's not an animal."

"Hybrids are animals, sweetie. Get over it." She smacked her gum and picked up a phone. "I'm going to call them down to the facility and while we wait, you are going to show Hybrid Protection Services those videos. They will deal with the rest and hopefully by tomorrow you will have complete custody over Felix."

You could only smile at Nancy. Yeah, she was a wack-ass bitch, but at least she was helping you. You just prayed that you would never see her again after this all was over.

After a few minutes, two HPS officers came through the front doors of the Facility, making a small bell ring to signal their entrance. Nancy kindly tells the officers of the situation and twirls her hair, batting her eyelashes at one man you could only describe as long, tan, and handsome. Too bad that wasn't your type.

Your type was average height, pale, red eyes, asshole- wait. No. They were talking to you. Oh, they wanted to see the phone. Oopsies.

Once more, you distracted yourself by picking at the sleeves of your sweater to avoid listening to the videos again. The HPS officers nodded and stepped off to the side with your phone and a notepad, figuring out what to do.

Soon, the bell rang once more and you turned your head, finally making eye contact with those red eyes that you'd been longing to see for weeks.

[mcfanely]

Nightowls

Dancing, as Cole now remembered, was addicting in the best way possible. One performance was all it took and now he couldn’t get it out of his head. The exhilaration, the sheer feeling of elation and for once being able to just let loose a long hidden part of himself, even if no one knew about it. Yet, the shift in emotion definitely didn’t go amiss amongst his brothers.

Chapter 06 - What’s Next?, 2080 words

There were times when Cole questioned his life choices, and dancing with Chamille; not caring what anyone thought of him- odds on, some of the people there didn't even know him. He was probably just a guy who showed up one day and eventually decided he wanted to do more than just stand at the sidelines and watch. 

There was no downside to his decision, all he could think was, why did I ever stop doing this?

But Cole knew why. He remembered the regimented and planned schedule that Marty Oppenheimers' focused on. All the classes that he didn't enjoy, all his classmates; all the teachers even; former performers, singers, actors, who were all well aware they taught at one of the most renowned private schools in Ninjago. They all loved what they did, that was clear, but it just wasn't… 

It wasn't Cole. 

He liked structure and order as much as the next person, but being graded on a dance discipline he didn't like, or taking written exams on the history of Performing Arts in Ninjago. 

Then there was the fact that he only went to that school because it was the same thing his dad had done when he was his age. 

Whereas his dad had graduated with flying colours and gone on to have a successful career, Cole had run away. 

That wasn't to say he hadn't been successful. He'd helped save Ninjago multiple times, averting disaster after disaster, and if anything his time as a Ninja had only served to strengthen the honestly dwindling relationship he'd had with his father for so many years. 

His dad was proud of his choices, Cole was proud of his life; but the universe always had a weird way of coming full circle sometimes. 

What he was doing, in that moment, nothing was comparable to it. 

So why did he ever stop doing something he genuinely loved? 

The second time he danced was later that night, though it wasn't nearly as out there as the first performance. 

He was standing just at the edge of the crowd, partially watching the dancers in the middle, but also trying the steps for himself. They fell into place easily, and he'd never felt more at ease just dancing. He was in a place where it was expected and enjoyed, and even though it had taken Cole over a month and many sleepless nights, he had the stark realisation that doing something he loved doing, surrounded by people with the same interests, what was there to be embarrassed or nervous about? 

The only issue was that, as soon as he stepped back into the monastery everything went back under wraps. Though, that didn't stop the wide smile that he felt plastered on his face for the entirety of the following day. He'd even gotten back in time for training, walking into his room just a little before six in the morning, Cole had subjected himself to the quickest and coldest shower he could to try and wake himself up and it still wasn't enough to stem the still present hum of adrenaline and excitement under his skin.

Even losing a spar against Lloyd didn't dampen his mood, he just kicked himself up off the floor, dusted himself off, retrieved his scythe and shouted, "Nice work, kiddo," He smiled, "Didn't see that hit coming."

The area lapsed into silence, the clanging of weapons stopping.

"Did you… Really just say that?" Lloyd questioned, one eyebrow arching up, before he settled on an idea, "You never let your opponent win, why now?" 

Cole paused, leaning on the pole of his scythe, the end jammed in between two stones, "Let you win? Dude, no, you won fair and square. I wasn't paying attention."

"Did you just admit you lost?" Kai questioned, he must have been listening in. 

"Yes? You say that like I'm a sore loser. That's Jay." He nodded to the blue ninja. 

"Hey!" 

"Anyway," Cole shrugged, "Nice job, greenbean, I'm going to go change."

He turned and started to make his way back inside. He could feel sweat making his gi stick to his chest, and the way his hair was dampened down; it didn't help that it was a warm day too. Yet, training had to be done, even if the heat was sticky and uncomfortable. Nothing another shower couldn't fix. 

Only, Zane was in his path, "Who are you and what have you done with Cole?" 

There was a sense of humour in those circuits then. 

"Oh, ha ha." He rolled his eyes, "Funny. I lost, so what? It's training, that happens." Cole moved his eyes over his icey friend, and crossed his arms over his chest, "This feels like an interrogation." And it did. With everything stopping. The birds were still tweeting their morning song, the sun was still rising, Jay had gone back to messing with his nunchucks if the woosh noise of them spinning through the air was anything to go off. 

But with Zane on one side, and Lloyd and Kai on the other, he felt almost penned in. 

"You're happy." Zane observed. 

Cole frowned in an oxymoronic reaction to the statement, "Am I not allowed to be happy?"

"Of course you are, it's just--" 

"We know you haven't been." Lloyd added after a second, stepping just a fraction closer. 

Oh. 

So maybe he hadn't been as subtle as he could be with his ongoing issue with nighttime and what it brought, but that was getting better.

He was getting better. 

At least, he felt better? 

"Cole, you've been looking exhausted recently and--" 

"Guys," Cole held his hand up loosely, as if waving off the incoming conversation before it even started. "I'm fine. I'm all good. Golden even."

Lloyd ran a hand through his hair, halting just off to his side "Cole--" 

"Listen, I'm having a good day. A really good day." Cole admitted after a moment. "Like, a 'nothing can dampen my mood' type of day. Those are rare. So, I'm going to go shower," He pointed in the general direction of his room, "And I'm going to enjoy this day. I'm fine, literally."

What did it say about him, if nobody seemed convinced at his words?

He sighed, then brushed past Zane with a small smile and a wave which for him, halted the conversation, "Right, you guys can keep being pessimistic, I'm out."

He could feel the eyes on the back of his head until he turned a corner, but he left it at that. Cole had other things to focus on, anyway. 

Specifically, when he was going to dance next. 

It was weird, that the night before he'd spent the entire trip into Ninjago city experiencing a minor freak out over what he had been planning to do. He'd talked himself out of it, and then back into it multiple times, and in the end he hadn't been given much of an option due to an extremely excited Chamille. So Cole definitely had her to thank for everything, because now he couldn't get the experience out of his head. 

It was incredible, it had been so much fun and he could see why he saw the same people perform almost every time he went to Nightowls. Dancing was addicting in the best possible way. 

Sure, he could freestyle whenever he wanted, it wasn't hard. Give him a good song or a specific style and he would make do. Yet, there was just something different about a choreographed routine. All the hours that went into it, the focus. The passion and dedication. If freestyle was like a sheer burst of serotonin, then what if he actually did a routine? 

As Cole was stepping out of the shower after his second wash of that morning, this time at least having less paint to make sure he scrubbed off, he was already set on his idea. 

Then it just came to the logistics of everything. 

Mainly, how he was going to choreograph and practice a routine in a place that was never empty unless there was a Ninjago ending crisis going on, in which case there would be no time for anything else other than saving the world again. 

However, Cole wasn't a quitter if he had his mind solidly set to an idea, so the process quickly went from a case of 'how?', to ‘how was he going to keep the inevitable process hidden?’ 

Though that wasn't so hard once he thought about it either. 

It was honestly amazing how far a good set of headphones and a chair propped up against the door could go. 

That isn't to say he didn't have any close calls. With the chosen music blaring in his ears, his eyes closed and his body moving on its own accord to map out the song and movements in his mind, it wasn't like he was paying attention to the door of his room. The only aspect that clued him in to someone knocking progressively louder with each thump was the fact that the chair nearly topped from its already slightly precarious position under the door knob. 

Cole took a mad dive, catching it before it clattered to the ground and swinging the door open in one smooth movement. 

He pulled his headphones off his head to sit down on his neck, the track still pumping from the speakers. 

Kai was standing on the other side, dressed in his pyjamas with his toothbrush hanging out one side of his mouth. He must have stopped in the middle of brushing his teeth since his words came out slightly muffled around the foam. 

"It's eleven at night, stop making so much noise." The fire ninja ground out, his brow furrowed, "What're you even doing anyway?" Kai reached out and knocked a finger against the headphones and in retaliation, Cole batted his hand away. "Nothing. Aren't you meant to be asleep already, isn't it past your bedtime?" He shot back, a smirk growing on his lips. 

That set Kai on the defensive, and quickly swayed away the conversation. "What, no! But I would be sleeping if you weren't stomping around the place. Go. To. Sleep!" Each word was punctuated carefully, and Cole just let out a breath and reached up to turn the music off, then raised an eyebrow as if to say better? 

That seemed to do the trick. 

Kai gave a half-hearted thumbs up, and trudged back off down the hallway. 

Cole did turn in for bed after that though, it wasn't as if he needed to rush the process. Plus, a tired Kai was slightly more annoying than well-rested Kai. Anything to avoid the former. Though he did practice the next night, and the next. After-dinner-game-time as Jay put it, was fun, yet there were only so many high scores that Cole could continue to break before he eventually got bored of the same five titles. 

He used that time to practice, and in between either sleeping or sneaking out to Nightowls, dancing quickly went from something he'd never thought he'd do much of again, to nearly a nightly thing. 

So when his routine was finished and polished after over a week of practice, Cole had had to force himself to go slow during dinner that night, and it was a conscious effort to stop himself from tapping his feet nervously on the floor. Whatever worries everyone had about his honestly improving sleep schedule, Cole wasn't ready to give them another reason to corner him and get him to talk about his feelings. 

He was all for being open, but some things he could deal with himself. 

Then he killed some time in his room, his headphones on full volume. Cole wasn't dancing, just humming along quietly. He knew the routine, he knew that he knew it. This was the time to cool off and relax, to try and tame the flurry of butterflies in his chest. 

Though even as he was passing through the hallways of the monastery, a cloth bag over one shoulder holding his mask and an assortment of other things for the night, the nerves were just growing. The cool air of impending night and a drooping sun helped slightly, dragging in a deep breath and letting his lungs expand for a few seconds, Cole descended the monastery steps. 

Only, he hadn't been as sly as he'd liked, since he wasn't the only one who left the monastery that night.

-

From the beginning

Ch 05 > Ch 06 > Ch 07

AO3

[dramayeoja]

Goblin ❣︎ 도깨비

Kim Shin, an undefeated war general, is ultimately killed by a jealous young king named Wang Yeo. After death, Shin is revived by the gods—but his revival is by no means miraculous. He becomes a 도깨비 (dokkaebi, goblin), and is cursed. He will have to pay for all the lives he took in battle by living alone in immortality, witnessing everyone he's ever loved, die. Remaining lodged in his chest is the very sword that killed him. There is only person who can see that sword, and draw from his heart so that he can finally rest in peace: his bride... whom he's yet to meet.

Things get spoilery under the cut—you've been warned! ;)

Chipper, yeah? Haha so, right off the bat, the premises of Goblin remind me of like, a much more morbid version of the legend of King Arthur. You know, a man draws a sword from stone to prove himself the greatest king in all of Britain? Yeah. Just to be clear: this is a good thing (imo). Like, I personally think this is just such a cool idea for a drama 😍

Let's jump right in. I'm gonna be honest and say that, at first, I felt a little turned off at the female lead, Eun Tak, being nineteen (in the beginning of the show), meanwhile the male lead, Shin, is 900+ years old (but physically looks to be in his thirties). It just... rubbed me weird. But hey, the Twilight series (both the books and the movies) is exactly the same—high school girl, century-old man, bananas yet somehow romantic storyline... And I loved me some Twilight as a young adult. So I mean, I have no right to judge, really. Plus, Eun Tak soon turns twenty anyway. So that's an improvement I guess 🤷🏻‍♀️ We follow her character into her late twenties, nearly thirty. So things are definitely fine by then haha! 👍

Don't let that previous bit make you think I didn't enjoy Goblin—I LOVED it. That detail is just a lil funky to me, is all. Back during my Twilight obsession days, I was nearly twenty myself, and the thought of being pursued by an older man was exciting. Hell, I mean, it still is! But now that I'm two years shy of my 30th Birthday, I feel differently sometimes. I think, LAWD get that girl away from that man, she too young for him LOL. I am definitely getting old... Enough about Twilight now, apologies! I'm only using it for the sake of conveying similarities seen in Goblin 🙏 Let's talk cast!

Kim Go Eun as Ji Eun Tak and Gong Yoo as Kim Shin

Eun Tak is a bubbly young woman with limitless energy! While still in her mother's womb, Mama Ji was involved in a hit-and-run incident which, sadly, took her life. During Mama Ji's dying moments, she prayed to anyone above that her child's life be spared. Sat on a rooftop from afar, beer in hand (lol), Shin hears her prayers, as he is a god of sorts. He appears before Mama Ji, and shows mercy to her unborn baby. Eun Tak grows up with the ability to see/speak to ghosts. Said ghosts tell her constantly that she is the goblin's bride. How do they know? A strange birthmark on the back of Eun Tak's neck tips them off. Eun Tak unfortunately was taken in by her abusive bitch of an aunt, who jabs Eun Tak every chance she gets. Her cousins are assholes. Eun Tak's aunt really only keeps her around in hopes of collecting Mama Ji's savings (intended for Eun Tak) one day. Sad, right? I mean, isn't Eun Tak being born without her mother enough as it is? Life can be so cruel 😔

Lee Dong Wook as Grim Reaper/Reaper/Wang Yeo

This is Grim Reaper (or Reaper for short), portrayed by the handsome Lee Dong Wook. His character is just this strange, not at all tech-savvy man with a constant deadpan facial expression. Said facial expression provokes so many giggles during funny moments, and drives home the longing and desperation during sad times. We learn quite a ways in that he, in his previous life (again, just in case: spoiler), was Wang Yeo G A S P ! The young king that is essentially responsible for Shin's death, as well as all the misdeeds that were done to Shin's family. Again, this is something I don't want to spoil. Well, more, anyway 😆 You gotta see it!

Yoo In Na as Kim Sun/Sunny

Kim Sun, or simply, Sunny (she loves to spell her name for people lol, S-U-N-N-Y!) is the second female lead. Yoo In Na is so gorgeous that one look at her makes you feel like such a potato hahhah. 🥔 This fact about her beauty bleeds over into the show itself—every time another character meets Sunny, the camera does this slow motion pan into her lmao. She really is that pretty! Sunny's personality comes across so odd at first... Having watched all of the episodes now, I feel the intention of Goblin's creators was to make her seem like a soul searching for something it has lost in a previous life. idk if that makes sense, but yeah. She has this way about her, like she's disconnected from others, and is sifting through the haziness to find this thing she feels she's lost.

Yook Sungjae (my BtoB bias 😍) as Yoo Deok Hwa

Sungjaeeee ahhhh 💘💘💘 I had to gush, sorry! Hehe. Meet Deok Hwa: unofficial nephew of Shin. Deok Hwa is a third-generation chaebol (heir to a family-owned corporation) and spoiled man-child, always seeking his credit card hahaha 🤣 But I love him so much. Between Gong Yoo, Lee Dong Wook, and BtoB Sungjae? Man, I'm dying over here! Deok Hwa's true identity is revealed later in the show, which if you haven't seen it yet, I won't spoil it. Just watch. But his ending sucked. Like where did he go? Everyone else's endings got tied up neatly except for his. What gives, man? 🤔 Edit: I was actually reading an online conversation about what happened to Deok Hwa online—someone jokingly said he was reincarnated as BtoB Sungjae LOL 💯

Other various comments

AMAZING OST 😍😍😍

Good pace, episodes drag at times. A little confusing in the beginning, but you get there eventually. Maybe this is just me though, viewers who are a little more keen than I will likely catch on sooner ;) My mom was a little confused as well, and actually said at one point, "This should be called the 'what-the-hell-is-going-on' show," hahaha. Like I said though, we quickly moved on from this, and loved all the things. There are actually, I think, three (?) specials that were made to aid viewers in making sure they understand the complex events and relationships clearly. I haven't watched them yet, but want to!

Quite repetitive tbh, as there are unnecessary flashbacks often. Probably for two reasons: the obvious of reminding you what's what, but also to create suspense. Typical duration of most tvN dramas seems to be about 16 episodes, so it's possible these flashbacks and things are, for lack of a better word, filler. I don't know how rigid or lax tvN is about having a drama set at 16 eps, but I get the idea this is their preference. Seeing as so many of their programs on average last that long, I feel this must be what they want. Such has the potential to affect the writing, either positively or negatively.

A continuation of the previous bullet: I think Goblin's creators oversimplified the plot at times. I'm unsure if this is due to possible pressures to meet a specific requirement(s), or what. I'd rather forgo ALL restrictions and let creativity flow, let the story be told without pressure to fill a specific amount of time, etc. but TV production is weird. And contracts are weird. tvN might not to blame for these issues, could simply be that storytelling isn't always easy, man. I'm a writer myself, it's hard! I'M being redundant now lmfao! Anyway, yeah ~

Absolutely LOVED all the scenes that were filmed on location in beautiful Québec City, Canada 🍁 Tall, romantic trees, the fall foliage, historic buildings... sigh. Now all I need is Gong Yoo chasing me and we're all set! ;D

In addition to Shin being revived, my crush on Gong Yoo has been revived as well LOL. He fine 🔥 A classic K drama crush, can't go wrong with GY👌

Gong Yoo is always stellar at doing kiseu (kiss) scenes, and in Goblin, he does not disappoint. He really goes at it 🙈 which is preferred vs. the typical person kissing a stone statue that you see so often. He even did a lift kiss with Kim Go Eun that was reminiscent of THEE Coffee Prince kiss he did with actress Yoon Eun Hye! 😍

I never saw it coming, how the sword would wind up being removed from Shin's chest. I worried what the writers were going to do, how would they approach this, and just wow. The way things turned out is such a relief. It also told me that Shin's love for Eun Tak is true. I mean, I didn't need that scene to occur for me to know that, rather it just adds extra oomph that yes, Shin really does love Eun Tak. He didn't want her to suffer knowing she was responsible for his "death," so he thought quick and used her hands WITH his hands asdfghjkl. How dumb (bc noooo now you're gonna die) and amazing he is at the same time 💜

I love how Shin made his way back to Eun Tak after passing away, it was such a powerful scene. I could really feel his struggle, and kept yelling at my TV for him to stand up lol!

Devastated that Eun Tak died 😭 I really thought as many times as she'd cheated death before, she would somehow continue cheating death again and again for the rest of her days. But no... What a selfless person, Ji Eun Tak. Her being reincarnated as Park So Min gave me some closure. Not the closure I wanted, but closure.

The relationship between Shin and Reaper is ADORABLE. Whenever they interact with each other, they just have this great dialogue. Shin pings, Reaper pongs, Reaper pings, Shin pongs. It's great 😄 I still laugh about the slow-mo scene of them returning from the market with green onions HAHAHA 😂

I love Sunny & Reaper ~ However, their history as Kim Sun & Wang Yeo in their past lives is so very sad. I don't even know where to start RE: my feelings on this 💔 imo, their ending kinda sucked. I just wasn't satisfied with them having had this complicated, tragic story, only to be reincarnated in this fashion that I ultimately found to be just... idk, disappointing 😩 Again, closure, but not the closure I wanted.

I thought Reaper, the other grim reapers, the name cards, the depiction of what happens immediately following death with the brewing of the tea, the afterlife, etc. was all very creative. We really don't know what awaits us when our time comes—it's interesting to wonder if it's anything like it is in Goblin 🍵

Can't stop thinking about Goblin, even though I'm now watching Thirty but Seventeen & Mr. Sunshine! I'm emotionally cheating lol halp.

Photo credits: tvN & AsianWiki

Yo yo! I'm sorry I took so long to watch + write up this review! It's been a long couple of weeks for me, I wasn't always able to watch when I wanted. It was maddening 😆 But I have finally watched, and feel like the most accomplished person on the planet hahaha. xoxo 💜

[iphoenixrising]

Justice is Blind AU: V

I’m alive, I swear. This is the next thing in the Blind!Tim au @satire-please started.

**

The Black Bird is a rough and tumble design. Close to a year and a half of work into making the car his new ride (because, you know, not that Robin anymore). It's the biggest pre-Iraq project, started shortly after he left Gotham and realized he'd probably never be welcome in the Cave, the Manor, or in with the Bats again (it wasn't…fine at the time. Fuck it was a painful realization, one hovering in the back of his brain pan while adapted to the nefarious side of the Force—stealing and then returning Bat-shaped artifacts and such).

Naturally, it’s the first project he picked-up in the transition period—the one after the Mission: prove the Bruce was still alive and fucking find him. After he’d done the job, sent Bruce back to Gotham to recover, to get his own orientation, Tim had packed up the Red Robin costume and returned to Gotham City. While adjusting to his ever-sharpening senses (and yes, Tam even toned down the light but cloying perfume once she realized it gave him migraines within the first five minutes) and trying to determine his next steps in the whirlwind of holy shit his life had become (who was he kidding? When was his life not a shit storm of ‘what next’?), he’d put up the suit until he made his choice about where to go from there.

Of course, once he had nothing to focus on, no reason to keep moving, the eventual fallout of oh God, how can I do this? Fuck that, I am doing this. I’m going to figure out how the fuck to do this came with the determination to finish the half-assed projects he’d left the night Dick took Robin and handed it over to Damian. The projects became something important, something so crucial to proving he could still get his shit together.

The Black Bird was the first on the list.

He’d originally worked on the specs, did the heavy lifting between finding frustrating clue after clue (the Bat symbol on a cavern wall, made into an earthen pot, a wax stamp to mark documents). He’d even been mid-way through programming the massive computer system, one similar to the one in the Batmobile (the last one he’d actually ridden in that is) so he could calibrate it to lock on to his homing signal in the utility belt and auto-pilot itself to his location.  The coding alone had been extensive, especially considering he’d started from literally scratch, refusing to access the Batcomputer to get the initial set-up from Bruce’s mainframe. At the time, he hadn’t wanted to trip any of Dick’s instincts, hadn’t wanted to give himself away, hadn’t wanted to talk or swing or what-the-fuck-ever (but secretly he’d been pretty damn sure all his access had been revoked from the big system anyway, he just hadn’t wanted to face that finality, the proof of ‘you don’t belong here anymore.’ Fuck, he’d already gotten that message loud and clear.)

Working on the Black Bird was the only thing keeping him sane, keeping him from running further away, from believing Dick had a fucking point and maybe he might just be having some kind of psychological break. When none of them believed in him, it's the only thing that kept him moving.

He'd only finished the body work and undercarriage before he'd been blinded and going back to it immediately had been... a reminder of what he’d lost (another thing he’d had to sacrifice). The damn car sat up on the automatic lift until he came back to Gotham a month after he’d sent B back to Dick, Damian, and Alfred, getting through that little meet-and-greet without giving out too many details but satisfied and terrified at the same time since, well, Mission accomplished. Now what?

Finding B lost in time had been the real clincher in the whole should I stick with it? mentality. Even though no one but Ra's, Shiva, and Tam knew, it was always on the tip of his tongue, in a puddle at the bottom of his brain pan when the rest of his contingencies mapped out exactly how to get through things like space/time.

Find Bruce, get him back, and then what?

Safe answer: go to college, say “fuck this lifestyle.”

But…but—

Instead of feeling like his last action as a crime fighter would be a big send-off, a final win for their side, and the last blast before he gave up the cape, the part of him, the part that pushed him to be ROBIN rose up to sneer Give up? Be a normal guy? College? A 9-5 job? What the utter fuck, dude?

So, he'd taken the time, jumped in with both hands all over again (and it’s just like when he was on a train to Haley’s Circus at twelve years old, hoping to convince Dick Grayson to take up the Robin mantle again and save Batman. Welp, we all know how that little situation panned out, don’t we?). Getting his projects done, getting the tools he’d need to function, getting a network established, setting up shop again so Red Robin could throw out his own safety net in the instance of shit, shit, Plan X failed (thus, the Black Bird). Honestly, he’d made the decision before he’d even realized it himself.

And nope, he hasn't regretted it yet.

Well, once he realizes someone breached the upstairs of the Perch, there might be just a small smidge after all since very, very few people knew how to find him and, even better, how to get in.

Straightening from his place at the hidden workbench in the sub-basement level, several vertebrae in his spine crack sharply, telling him how long he���d been bent over the stack of whirlybirds, taking his time to solder new microchips under the insignia and Plexiglas casing. These were marked with a niche on the bottom, a groove deep enough for his gloves to catch when he’s in the suit; he’d also made them much smaller than the usual palm-sized— rather, almost the size of a silver dollar and with a low-frequency output most people wouldn’t even detect, but could give him placement in places with high ceilings or echoes (you know, when the baddies hold up in shitty warehouses and such). He stands up to stretch while his phone gives off a specific beep, one to indicate the Perch’s motion detectors had been set off. Snagging the device, he leaves his progress where it is, minutely adjusting the tools so he could come back to it. Barefoot, he pads out through the hidden door of the inner workshop and onto the plush, vinyl mats of the functional gym, takes 36 steps to the side area with workbenches along one wall to keep his suit stocked with the usual toys. Finally another 18 to the hidden staircase and up the back passage to the penthouse apartment.

It took him long enough for the smell of fresh coffee to waft halfway down the stairs and set off his inner caffeine sense. While the fingertips of one hand run along the wall absently, automatically, his stomach rumbles in reminder of how long it’s been since he’s tried to do, you know, real people things like sleep and eat.

(It’s fine, his guest probably already knows)

And it’s finely honed instincts that allow him to backbend slightly before he’s even a step through the hidden staircase to avoid the hot mug of coffee being shoved directly in his face.

“I’m going to need you,” Tamara Fox starts out in that patiently irritated tone, “to get Bruce Wayne the hell out of my office. And I need you to do it yesterday.”

Well. Shit.

“Hi Tam. Nice to see you too,” he takes the mug gratefully as he straightens up, steps out to allow the wall to slide closed and hide the stairs again. He checks the level of liquid pointlessly while the rim is already at his mouth and just perfect. Of course it is because Tam is the quintessential perfectionist (and nope, she can argue all she wants about reckless decisions and such—again, sorry you almost died. Really, it’s my life, so I can totally sympathize). But he smiles around the first mouthful and moves to the kitchen table so she can pace and rant at her leisure and he can enjoy a few minutes of sitting upright.

“Bruce has been at WE I take it?” He starts the train rolling even as he pulls out a chair to make himself comfortable.

“Has Bruce been—are you kidding me?”

Choo-choo, allll aboard

“He’s been there all week, Tim. Not in his office, not with my dad, not with the board. He’s been literally in my office. I’ve given him stacks of paperwork for the last three days and he still isn’t leaving. Monday? He had a champagne fountain in the middle of the office and invited everyone from Accounting to come up for a drink.”

Oh. Oh no.

He makes a positive noise for go on while the coffee sits warm in his stomach and he cracks the knuckles of one hand absently.

“Tuesday? He brought two models up for a photo shoot, including equipment, backdrop, and whatever the hell they needed for a magazine cover!”

And Tam takes six long strides to cover the kitchen before she turns and takes six back, always more at ease to talk while she’s doing something. That’s her, someone who is in perpetual motion. Slight sighs are her hands and arms moving to gesture without a hitch in her step.

“And it was for Forbes, Tim. He had half-naked models posing with him for the cover of Forbes.”

He enjoys breathing enough that he doesn’t snicker, he might choke a little on his coffee, but really, not laughing here at all.

“Bruce was always a little…quirky. All rich guys are.”

She pauses long enough to face him, gritting her teeth, “most rich guys don’t do their own brand of crazy in the middle of my office, Tim.”

Just a slight wince, but, well, Tam. “Well, he’s also Batman, so that should factor in to his brand of crazy.”

A slight noise is a wave of her hand, “I’m not worried about the scary man that breaks faces for a living. I’m worried about the former-CEO who is going to be back in my office Monday morning with God know what else unless he gets some information on how you’re doing.”

Damn. He’d hoped B would leave Tam out of anything unrelated to WE—

Wait. What now?

“Wait. You’re telling me he didn’t come to you to get his company back?”

His mug makes a sharp noise on the table from force because he had certain expectations on how that little situation was going to pan out for everyone.

The chair across from him pulls out with a soft scratch, and his spine straightens when she slides into the chair. Papers flutter and clack when they’re straightened, slide across the table in front of him.

Tam not talking means not good.

His fingertips are already moving over the soft line of dots across the top of the pages, moving from the usual WE headers and down to the bulk of content:

I, Bruce Thomas Wayne, assign all duties and responsibilities of Chief Executive Officer of Wayne Industries and Wayne International to Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne—

His jaw drops, hand stutters across the braille line.

Tam hums just slightly and the sound of her drinking her own mug (and it’s probably the special one he keeps for her, the whole You don’t have to be crazy to work here, but it helps one).

His fingers skip down, move across the page slowly in shock, his brain coming up with what fucking reason Bruce would just—

“He did that playboy moron thing he’s got going on for a while, but—and I’m not sure where he got the right forms—but, he brought them to me signed and notarized on Friday. We…well, we talked a little. I mean, like people, not like you kind of people about bad guys and fighting, but like real people. The real guy is kind of…intense?” Tam sighs a little and the noise is heavy in his ears, stressed. Without thinking, he raises his head slightly and slides his free hand across the table, seeking until he gets the bump of her knuckles, wraps his hand around hers, runs his thumb over the back of her hand in a soothing gesture. It did wonders to calm her down when they were in the belly of the proverbial beast, the League of Assassins’ Cradle.

Okay. This could be not good.

“He wants you to stay as CEO and for me to be your I don’t know second-in-command or something? Dad wants R&D back because he says he’s getting too old to keep up with running the company, and Mr. Wayne doesn’t seem to want the controlling interest in his company back, so I don’t know what else to tell you to do, Tim. Only that you have to address the company in person eventually, do a formal introduction to the Board. Start coming into an office somewhere so people can see you once in a while.”

He has nothing but changing thoughts and motivations running through his brain at high speeds and keeps listening, his reading hand absently skimming through the rest of the page, turning it over to start scanning the next. He takes everything into account since Tam must have already started planning the next steps in what was supposed to be a strategic move to keep the company from falling into Ra’s al Ghuls’ grubby, immortal hands. He wasn’t really supposed to run Wayne Industries.

Just, nope. (Bruce really doesn’t expect him to do this, right?)

“He did…He asked for you to call him. Soon. Just to talk, he said.” And she sighs a little, gripping his hand back when he hadn’t realized he was squeezing a little tight.

Next page. Job description. Pfft.

“I think…” it’s a pause where her eyes are probably on his, where she’s probably biting down on her lower lip before she comes out with it. “I think he misses you, Tim.”

He stops reading long enough to pick up his coffee again and drain it to get rid of the lump in his throat.

“He has a Robin,” is the right response (or, well, it was). “Now he wants a CEO. I get it. It’ll take the pressure off of him to be a constant figure. He can still do the ‘Bruce Wayne’ things for the society sections without being tied down to the company. It’s…a smart move for a caped crime fighter.”

And then something she said resonates in his brain, makes him perk slightly.

“Wait. He said he wants to talk?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, he said he wanted to have a talk. Maybe about the company—”

“Where’s your purse?” And he’s already half-standing, reaching out a hand.

Tam (who got a first-hand view of his inner vigilante sense during go-time) goes with it, the noise of it coming off the back of another chair and delivered right into his hands.

Tim sets the heavy thing between them on the table, fingers moving to the delicate stitching all over the thing (and it’s one of those ridiculously expensive ones, a Marc Jacobs or something), and—

Yup. Fuck.

Few, if anyone, would be able to pick out the slight bulge of fabric on the underside, but he picks the seam with a fingernail because, of course, the tiny, Bat-shaped device is just right there.

“That is a Four. Hundred. Dollar bag, just so you’re aware.”

He holds out the device in the center of his palm, and deadpans, “I’ll buy you a new one. Apparently, I’m a CEO now.”

Tam blinks down at the blinking red device and back up at Tim’s grim expression and off-focus gaze when the realization sets in. “He played me? I got played by Bruce Wayne?”

“Technically, you got played by Batman. That should actually make you feel better.” And he gets only slightly pissed off that B went there. He’s more concerned knowing B is aware of their connection—his and Tam’s—since he’s never been necessarily happy when civilians find out their identities.

“This is a little much, isn’t it?” And yup, someone messing with Tam’s one obsession. Now he’s really hoping B shows up in her office on Monday so she can chew his ass right the fuck out (mental note: check the live feed from her office while that little discussion is going down. Also, make popcorn)—that is, if he can get out of Gotham before a whole bunch of crime fighting wingnuts decide to descend on his Perch.

“I…haven’t talked to him since I left the Manor last week.”

“Really? You don’t say? Well, isn’t that a perfectly reasonable justification to cut a hole in my Chanel handbag?”

Tim blinks as his inner sense kicks the tension in his shoulders and back up a notch just before his phone chirps again with the motion detector warning, this one outside the front door.

“I may or may not have mentioned,” he deadpans, waiting for it, “he’s Batman.”

The doorbell is unassuming while he’s already moving on silent feet. He doesn’t bother with glasses because he already knows who’s out there anyway.

He cracks the front door just slightly, frowning. “Sorry. We’re not buying Girl Scout Cookies today. Thanks.”

“Not even coconut ones?” Bruce’s voice is only slightly deep, so probably in his day ware, not the nightfall outfit (so…not a case?).

“Not from cheaters,” he returns while still opening the door. After the effort, Bruce isn’t just going to go away, that much is pretty damn clear.

“It’s not cheating. I worked for it fair and square since you won’t pick up a phone, Tim.”

He closes the door behind Bruce’s massive figure, closing his eyes for a second to steel himself for whatever this might be.

A plastic noise from Bruce’s right hand, “Nice to see you again, Miss Fox. I hope Prada is to your liking?”

**

More coffee is made and consumed until Tam (the traitor) leaves the penthouse with her new bag in tow and a litany of praises for Bruce’s sense of style. The Chanel is still a point of contention, though, he can hear it in her voice when she thanks Mr. Wayne for his thoughtfulness (like she’s saying you ass hat instead…and will always be why Tam is one of his Top 5 favorite people of all time).

They’d (B and Tam) spent a little over an hour discussing the state of the company with B giving him some surprised kudos when she mentions a few of the projects he’d initiated in his first few months of being a CEO; the reality of the situation (of which he failed to mention) is he’d given their engineers and scientists a few inventions and software designs to tinker with to cement himself in the role, so as few questions as possible would be posed as to why is that guy up in this business? At the time, he was just seventeen, barely managed to get his GED, and was an adopted son—the backlash from the media had been enough to keep him moving between trying to find Bruce, stay out of Dick’s Bat-Radar, and keep the stocks from literally plummeting.

The first MedPod had hit the market, and all those critics started to take fucking note.

(Because really LexCorp’s Medical Supply line was absolute shit, so a self-sustaining medical pod for emergency transports was really just the way to go for the Armed Forces—considering they’d beaten out several other big names for the contract was enough to prove he might just be all right for this job other than, you know, keeping it out of the hands of bad guys.)

Through the back-and-forth about the company, he’d kept his opinions to himself, waiting for something to catch him up; something like “that’s amazing. I’ll know when I’m getting back into.” Or “Once I’m back in the saddle, we’ll keep that project going.” Or, “You’ve done some amazing things, Tim, thanks. I��ll take it from here.”

He gets nada. Absolute fuck all.

Sitting on his left with Bruce across from them, Tam had nudged his knee, her way of telling him to please say something or I’m burying you in paperwork hell, but honestly? He’s pretty much at a loss.

Making non-committal noises around a fresh cup of coffee is really all he’s got at this point.

He shows Tam to the door leaning in slightly out of the doorframe to assure her in a low voice he’d already checked the Prada bag and it seems clean enough.

She sighs at him (again) and makes the usual demands, “Eat something. Sleep for God’s sake. I’ll…see you at work, boss.”

He feels his face pull with the automatic smile (because it’s Tam) and has another moment of regret when they couldn’t make it work—the two of them would have been good together. Too bad for things that had never-been (too many, he’s lost too damn many to make that leap again).

Coming back to the table is the hardest part of his day, knowing Bruce is probably watching him for all possible ticks, is probably staring at his dead eyes with that shitty self-recrimination happening in the background, that the Dark Knight can find him now (and fuck, he doesn’t want to have to move his things to a new safe house. Dammit, he likes it here).

And once they’re alone, he gets the first one in, “tagging Tam was shitty, you know.”

A shift of movement, a nod while a heavy sigh probably lifts Bruce’s shoulders and chest, and he can remember the moments when the Bat needed to be called back, reigned in so the man behind the cowl didn’t drop from exhaustion and injuries, from the sheer weight of things he’d taken on his shoulders to bare. The noises, even without the visuals, are so damn familiar, a basis for the layer of Robin instincts that are honestly a part of his chemical make-up at this point. His instincts to pull B back from the edge of the abyss when the Dark Knight was taking him farther than any human being (ever Bruce Wayne) could handle…and stay sane.

He hadn’t been fucking kidding when he told B “Batman needs a Robin” all those years ago.

“I know.”

“There some kind of unstated rule we have about not treating other Bats like—” criminals but oh yeah, forgot for a second, didn’t you?

His mouth shuts with a sharp clack of his teeth coming together before the sentence gets out (and yes, Bruce caught it).

“If you stayed anywhere near the radar, or had at least picked up the phone, I would have left Tam alone, I swear.” Bruce fills in smoothly, filing away the aborted statement.

“Emails have been fine up until now, you know.”

And just like the usual, B has something to keep him on his toes. “Just emails have never been fine, Tim.”

So…maybe the undercurrent of it would be nice to see you back in Gotham once and a while, you know, when you have time and shit might not have all been lip service after all (but he already has a Robin, right?)

Instead of voicing it, giving old hurts a space in reality, he goes with the automatic defense, “the accident didn’t make me an invalid, B. I’ve still been vigilantie-ing it up, blind or not.” The hard edge to his tone implies no one else picked up on it so I must be doing something right.

Another shift, a shrug, and just like Batman, he drops something completely fucking unexpected, “I never stopped keeping track of you, you know.”

Is…not what he expected to hear, just like with the CEO thing.

In true Bat form, B starts rattling off longitude and latitude, one set, two sets, three sets, four sets (and fuck, apparently he had been keeping track. The realization is jarring, a bucket of cold water over some of his previous notions of not a Bat anymore).

“Those are the ones I can think of off the top of my head.”

“I…”

“The point of this is the same one I gave you at the Manor.” Bruce tries to say it softly, take the hard punch out of his words. “You’re one of my Robins. You always will be. That’s what happens when you agree to take up the mask.”

He draws himself up a little because the implications (the I’ll have your back, all you need to do is call and I’ll come). And just like he was still that teenager in the tunic, Tim feels the heat in his chest, the undeniable feel of comfort, safety B has always brought forth in him. Even when they worked their own cases, were continents away, he knew, had believed, B would come running, B would still need him—

His face turns away, scarred fingers tapping lightly against his coffee cup, an automatic response (and he doesn’t even realize he’s tapping out R-O-B-I-N in Morse code) to keep motion while his brain works.

“I appreciate it,” is finally what he can give back, soft and firm. “It’s…it hasn’t been… easy. Acclimating, I mean, to this,” and a general wave at his face. “But, I’m…better now. Better than I was. It’s—” and he almost, almost falls back on his usual diversion, his absolutely bullshit when he’s got nothing left.

It feels out of place here, in the space of his sanctuary, the place he had to make useable without the Manor, the Cave, Titans Tower to fall back on— it feels out of place because Bruce…still doesn’t pull any punches.

The hand, that hand, the one that’s caught him countless times over the years, pulled him back in so fucking many ways—from over the edge of buildings, from his own recriminations, his own failures, from blood loss and sleep dep, from working himself into a coma, from—

That hand can still wrap around his wrist with room to spare, a thumb rubbing easy circles over his pulse, a reminder.

When he swallows, his throat is thick again, his eyes heating up just a little, just enough for him to chuff a laugh, a half-hoarse, rusty sound.

If there’s one thing the Batman and the real Bruce have in common? They don’t bullshit the good guys about the important things. If B came here to say it, went through the trouble of finding the Tim’s rabbit hole, he meant every damn word.

The litany of things he might have said fades down with the realization, and Tim raises his eyes, tries to make sure he’s looking at Bruce when the genuine half-smile is almost a wince.

“Do you…do you want to come downstairs and see the set-up?” (And no, his voice doesn’t break a little, his chest doesn’t lurch with the familiarity of it all.)

But he can hear it in Bruce’s tone, stark relief. “Yes actually, I do. Very much so, Tim.”

**

And outside, Gotham City breathes as day gives way to night; the Birds of Prey step out, taking their time to work. Nightwing and Robin fill in the gaps, moving like they’ve fought together their whole lives, and it gives the Batman time, time he so obviously needs.

Once N splits up with him, plans to meet back at the Mylar Building at two-thirty, Robin makes an impressive leap, launching himself through the sky.

Robin ends up in the Narrows, jumping around the old theatre where O used to make herself comfortable. He grapples up to the Queen & Sons headquarters, the tallest building in this part of the city, and makes himself comfortable between the feet of his favorite gargoyle. He idly listens to the back and forth between O and N, O and Batgirl, Black Canary and the thug she’s beating the shit out of, Black Bat and O, all the sounds of family.

(Speaking of which)

All-in-all, he does not have to wait very long for his next appointment of the night.

Anyone else not in the cape and cowls would have missed the soft boots striding across the roof, but Robin has been meeting here the last few months, attempting to make something in their world right again—to give something back.

And perhaps because he is no longer under the delusions of the League, perhaps because he is getting older, perhaps because he is Robin and the symbol of his chest means so much more than it meant when he first desired it, perhaps because now he better understands making the right choices for the right reasons, he has continued to attempt these interactions.

The taller vigilante ducks under the wing of the gargoyle, sitting on the ledge of the building rather than back under the statue. A careless toss of the greasy paper bag lands the offering right in Robin’s lap, and the smell is not…necessarily terrible.

A bottle of his preferred Vitamin Water is tossed at him as well, and he has it open, drinking it down while his eyes slide to the side behind the whiteouts. The soft noises, metal on metal, are indeed a testament to how far they have come in the last few weeks.

The red helmet is left on the roof between them and a small flame flickers behind a gloved hand, lighting a casual cigarette while Robin hands over the chicken burrito and takes the veggie one for himself.

“I call this meeting a’ the Dead Robins Club ta order,” the Red Hood smirks at him through the shadows, lenses up on his domino so his eyes are just as jade as the waters of the Pit, “all right Demon. Gimmie the skinny, yeah?”