#and afterwards he is just like “am i dead? did she kill me?” penelope: “no” odysseus: “she is terrifying”

[faithfulcat111]

ST Epic Cycle AU feat. Buckingham as Menelaus and Helen

Quotes are from The Illiad, The Orestia, The Odyssey, and Helen

[luminouslumity]

Last time summarizing The Odyssey song-by-song!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

THE CHALLENGE: For the past several years, Queen Penelope of Ithaca has kept the unwanted suitors at bay by weaving and then undoing a burial shroud meant for her father-in-law, Laërtes, and by the time we meet them, they've already been made aware of the trick. Shortly after Odysseus' return and having had a dream of an eagle killing a gaggle of geese, Penelope has the suitors compete for her hand via an archery contest; specifically, whoever can string Odysseus' bow through a dozen axe heads wins.

HOLD THEM DOWN: The suitors are still scheming to kill Telemakhos even after he returns home from Sparta, but they end up reconsidering it at the urging of another suitor named AMPHÍNOMOS (Ἀμφίνομος).

ODYSSEUS: Immediately after completing the challenge, Odysseus shoots an arrow into Antínoös' neck and reveals his identity in the process before killing Eurúmakhos. Telemakhos kills Amphínomos after the latter tries attacking Odysseus, and even Athena joins in the fight. Soon, all of the suitors as well as their accomplices are dead, including the goatherd MELÁNTHIOS (Μελάνθιος) and his sister MELANTHṒ (Μελανθώ).

I CAN'T HELP BUT WONDER: Odysseus and Telemakhos actually reunite prior to the slaughtering of the suitors, but before that, upon his return to Ithaca, he initially doesn't recognize his home due to Athena disguising it. Then he comes across his patron, who has taken the form of a young man. Eventually:

At his words, Athena smiled into his eyes. She took his hand, and changed her body to a woman’s: beautiful, tall, and skilled in all the arts. Her words were light as feathers.

“To outwit you in all your tricks, a person or a god would need to be an expert at deceit. You clever rascal! So duplicitous, so talented at lying! You love fiction and tricks so deeply, you refuse to stop even in your own land. Yes, both of us are smart. No man can plan and talk like you, and I am known among the gods for insight and craftiness. You failed to recognize me: I am Athena, child of Zeus. I always stand near you and take care of you, in all your hardships. I made sure that you were welcomed by the Phaeacians. I have come here now to weave a plan with you and hide the treasure which, thanks to me, they gave you to take home. I will reveal the challenges you face at home. This is your fate, and you must bear it bravely, not telling any man or woman that you have finished wandering and come back. Suffer in silence, bear their brutal treatment.”

Afterwards, Odysseus—now disguised as a beggar—takes shelter in the hut of the family swineherd, EUMAIOS (Εὔμαιος), and it's there father and son finally reunite; it takes a bit for Odysseus to reveal himself, but when he finally does:

“Stranger, you look so different from before. Your clothes, your skin—I think that you must be some god who has descended from the sky. Be kind to us, and we will sacrifice, and give you golden treasures. Pity us!”

Long-suffering Odysseus replied, “I am no god. Why would you think such things? I am your father, that same man you mourn. It is because of me these brutal men are hurting you so badly.”

Then he kissed his son and cried, tears pouring down his cheeks; he had been holding back till then. The boy did not yet trust it really was his father, and said, “No, you are not Odysseus, my father; some god must have cast a spell, to cause me further pain. No mortal man could manage such a thing by his own wits, becoming old and young again—unless some god appeared and did it all with ease. You certainly were old just now, and wearing those dirty rags. Now you look like a god.”

Artful Odysseus said sharply, “No, Telemachus, you should not be surprised to see your father. It is me; no other is on his way. I am Odysseus. I suffered terribly, and I was lost, but after twenty years, I have come home. As for the way I look—Athena did it. The goddess can transform me as she likes; sometimes a homeless beggar, then she makes me look like a young man, wearing princely clothes. For heavenly gods it is not difficult to make a mortal beautiful or ugly.”

With that, he sat back down. Telemachus hurled his arms round his father, and he wept. They both felt deep desire for lamentation, and wailed with cries as shrill as birds, like eagles or vultures, when the hunters have deprived them of fledglings who have not yet learned to fly. That was how bitterly they wept.

Interestingly, Homer notes of Eumaios and Telemakhos:

Amazed, the swineherd jumped up, letting fall the cups in which he had been mixing wine; it spilled. He ran towards his master, kissed his face and shining eyes and both his hands, and wept. Just as a father, when he sees his own dear son, his only son, his dear most precious boy, returned from foreign lands after ten years of grieving for his loss, welcomes him; so the swineherd wrapped his arms around godlike Telemachus and kissed him, as if he were returning from the dead.

With tears still in his eyes he said, “Sweet light! You have come back, Telemachus. I thought that I would never see you anymore, after you sailed to Pylos. My dear child, come in, let me enjoy the sight of you now you are back. Come in! You do not often come to the countryside to see us herders; you stay in town to watch that evil horde of suitors.”

Speaking of reunions, Odysseus also very briefly does so with his faithful dog ARGOS (Ἄργος), albeit from a distance, as showing any outward affection would give away his identity. Still, the dog passes on peacefully, knowing his master is home at last.

After he arrives at the palace, very few treat him kindly, with Antínoös and later Eurúmakhos hurling footstools at him at separate times, as well as another suitor named KTESIPPUS (Κτήσιππος) throwing him an ox hoof. The only exception when it comes to the suitors is Amphínomos, who actually considers leaving after being warned, but Athena makes him stay.

Still disguised, Odysseus briefly talks to Penelope, who confides in him of her suffering and even offers to give him a bed, but the king declines. He does however ask to have his feet washed, and that's when he reunites with his old nurse EURUKLEIA (Εὐρύκλεια), who is quick to recognize him due to the scratch on his foot, the very same one he'd received as a child from a boar while hunting with his grandfather Autolykos. Another, PHILOÍTIOS (Φιλοίτιος), also agrees to help in taking back Odysseus' home alongside Eumaios, each even getting the chance in killing a few suitors with the king and prince.

WOULD YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH ME AGAIN: After the slaughter, Eurukleia informs Penelope of Odysseus' return, but the clever queen sets up one final test:

Penelope said shrewdly, “You extraordinary man! I am not acting proud, or underplaying this big event; yet I am not surprised at how you look. You looked like this the day your long oars sailed away from Ithaca. Now, Eurycleia, make the bed for him outside the room he built himself. Pull out the bedstead, and spread quilts and blankets on it.”

She spoke to test him, and Odysseus was furious, and told his loyal wife, “Woman! Your words have cut my heart! Who moved my bed? It would be difficult for even a master craftsman—though a god could do it with ease. No man, however young and strong, could pry it out. There is a trick to how this bed was made. I made it, no one else. Inside the court there grew an olive tree with delicate long leaves, full-grown and green, as sturdy as a pillar, and I built the room around it. I packed stones together, and fixed a roof and fitted doors. At last I trimmed the olive tree and used my bronze to cut the branches off from root to tip and planed it down and skillfully transformed the trunk into a bedpost. With a drill, I bored right through it. This was my first bedpost, and then I made the other three, inlaid with gold and silver and with ivory. I stretched ox-leather straps across, dyed purple. Now I have told the secret trick, the token. But woman, wife, I do not know if someone— a man—has cut the olive trunk and moved my bed, or if it is still safe.”

At that, her heart and body suddenly relaxed. She recognized the tokens he had shown her. She burst out crying and ran straight towards him and threw her arms around him, kissed his face, and said, “Do not be angry at me now, Odysseus! In every other way you are a very understanding man. The gods have made us suffer: they refused to let us stay together and enjoy our youth until we reached the edge of age together. Please forgive me, do not keep bearing a grudge because when I first saw you, I would not welcome you immediately. I felt a constant dread that some bad man would fool me with his lies. There are so many dishonest, clever men. That foreigner would never have got Helen into bed, if she had known the Greeks would march to war and bring her home again. It was a goddess who made her do it, putting in her heart the passion that first caused my grief as well. Now you have told the story of our bed, the secret that no other mortal knows, except yourself and me, and just one slave, Actoris, whom my father gave to me when I came here, who used to guard our room. You made my stubborn heart believe in you.”

With husband and wife reunited at long last, Odysseus tells Penelope his tale, including Teiresías' prophecy.

Afterwards, Hermes leads the suitors to the Underworld, where Agamemnon expresses his jealousy over Odysseus having had such a loyal wife. Back in the mortal realm, Odysseus finally reunites with his father, but it's brief, as word has gotten out of what had happened to the suitors and now their own fathers crave vengeance. EUPEÍTHĒS (Εὐπείθης), Antínoös' father, is among the dead, and it's mentioned that all of the rebels would have met the same fate as the suitors were it not for Athena's interference. And so ends the epic on these final words:

“Odysseus, you are adaptable; you always find solutions. Stop this war, or Zeus will be enraged at you.”

He was glad to obey her. Then Athena made the warring sides swear solemn oaths of peace for future times—still in her guise as Mentor.

[pale-opal]

I Listened to "The Wisdom Saga" and I Have Some Thoughts - Part 2

This is the sequel to this post. I will be picking up right where I left off, starting with:

4. Love in Paradise - I feel as if I've been tricked, been backstabbed, and quite possibly, bamboozled. - I came into this expecting unrequited-love related hijinks. - Do you wanna know what I got instead? - The most emotionally taxing song in the entire freaking saga. - I have listened to this song several times and so far, every time it ends I feel sad. But when the song starts, you have no idea what you're in for. - "Love in Paradise"? More like "Suffering in Paradise" (/j). - We begin with a medley of some of the most iconic songs from past sagas, starting with "Remember Them" from "The Cyclops Saga". After that point, the rest of the songs go by quickly, with Athena speedrunning through a montage of Odysseus' past up until his current point. The remaining songs in the medley are:

Keep Your Friends Close

Ruthlessness (I love how this song was changed for the medley, by the way. The faster tempo puts more emphasis on the drums and I think that's so fun)

Done For

No Longer You

Different Beast

Scylla

Thunder Bringer

- Afterwards, Athena finds out where Odysseus has been for the past seven years: the ✨Isle of Calypso!✨ - He is not okay. - We will get to that shortly. - For now, Calypso has decided to wake Odysseus up:

"[CALYPSO] Morning, sleepyhead You've been resting for a while I swore that you were dead When you washed up on my isle Did you know you talk in your sleep? Tell me, though, who's Penelope?

[ODYSSEUS] She's my wife" - This man just woke up from being knocked out cold, and the first thing he does is talk about his wife. - I know that he was asked who she was, but one would expect him to be like: "She's my wife - where am I?/How'd I get here?/Who are you?" - But, no. He just says "She's my wife" and leaves it at that. He couldn't care less about everything else at this point. - This does not stop Calypso from ignoring this and acting like her and Odysseus are newlyweds, however. - And I just want to take a second to talk about these lyrics:

"[ODYSSEUS] I'm not your man

[CALYPSO] I'm what you want here I'm what you need here Just you and me, my love in paradise Now 'til the end of time From here on out, you're mine, all mine" - "I'm not your man" is sung the same way as "I'm just a man", which means that Odysseus is saying: "Just because I'm a man, that doesn't mean I'm a free piece of meat for you to make out with." - Meanwhile, Calypso is NOT listening. She is thoroughly convinced that she and Odysseus are in-love with each other, and that they're basically already married. - I would like to bring up that in Greek mythology, Apollo and Calypso are husband and wife. And we know that Apollo is part of the "Epic" canon, because he appears in the next song. From this, we can draw two potential conclusions:

Apollo and Calypso are not married in "Epic", either because they haven't met, or because they are divorced.

Apollo and Calypso ARE married, BUT Apollo doesn't visit his wife... for some reason.

- Odyessus decides to try to get Calypso off his back by threatening her with death, but she deflects this by revealing that she can't kill her, because she's a goddess:

"[CALYPSO] You're adorable Bow down now to the immortal Calypso, here to entertain But fear not, I bring no pain ... Under my spell, we're stuck in paradise No one can come nor go, my island stays unknown" - Calypso going from flirting with Odysseus to mockingly calling him "adorable" and telling him to bow to her actually works really well. Sure, she's in "love" with him, but she's still a goddess, and Odysseus is still a mortal man that just threatened to kill her. To her, she has to put him in his place, regardless of whether or not he's the "love of her life". - "I bring no pain" is really ironic, considering how much Odysseus does NOT want to be on this island with this woman. - I also find it interesting how Calypso and Circe both have similar things going on with the whole "secluded secret islands in the middle of the ocean" thing. Not only that, but they both had a thing for Odysseus. - Also, the line about the spell Calypso put on the island works as an explanation for why she instantly "fell in love" with Odysseus: she's lonely! - Now then: is this an excuse for what she's doing here? No. The buck stops at it being an explanation - everyone experiences loneliness, and a lot of people do some weird and not always understandable things because of it. But usually, those things don't involve ignoring other people's boundaries and forcing them to accept your company. Relationships are a two-way street, and if someone doesn't want to meet you in the middle, then that's their choice. You need to know when to back off and let it go. - After Calypso reveals who she is and that it isn't really possible for Odysseus to leave the island, he starts to panic (the way the line "No, no" is sung really sells this). - At this point, I have to provide a content warning for implications of attempted suicide, and discussion of PTSD, due to the subject matter the rest of the song deals with. If you don't want to read my analysis of the lyrics dealing with that material, please skip to the section for "God Games", or click off of this post. Your mental health is much more important than some silly essay about some random people from Greek mythology. - Furthermore, if you feel that you or someone else may need help dealing with suicidal thoughts, please contact the national suicide hotline (United States) at 1-800-273-TALK, or the national crisis hotline at 988. - Lastly, I am not a psychologist, nor am I anyone else qualified to be giving medical assistance or help with mental health. Therefore, treat anything I say in relation to mental health with skepticism, and do not use it as a substitute for real medical advice.

Now let us continue:

"[ATHENA] Seven years, she's kept you trapped, out of your control Time can take a heavy toll...

[ODYSSEUS] All I hear are screams

[CALYPSO, spoken] Ody, get away from the ledge!

[ODYSSEUS] You don't know what I've gone through You don't know what I've sacrificed Every comrade I long knew Every friend, I saw them die And all I hear are screams"

- For some reason, I didn't see Odysseus developing post-traumatic stress disorder coming sooner. I suppose that's because he was in "the thick of it" for so long. - PTSD tends to show itself after a person experiences trauma, and is being reacclimated to a safe environment/the feeling of safety (however, it's not impossible for people to experience PTSD while in the midst of a traumatic experience, specifically if that experience takes place over an extended period of time. One example of this is how some soldiers who served in the Vietnam War showed symptoms of what was once called "shell shock" while they were still serving, with one of the most prominent signs being the "one-hundred yard stare" (which we now recognize as a form of disassociation)). - I also didn't expect Odysseus wanting to kill himself. He's reached the point where he just wants to be done. It's not even about Penelope anymore. He's just... tired. So tired that he's forgotten why he let himself go through all that suffering to begin with. - Calypso telling Odysseus that "life would be so much worse/if you had died" and telling her to stay in her "open arms" absolutely hurts, especially since he wants absolutely nothing to do with her. - Odysseus desperately screaming for Athena at the end just makes the whole thing worse.

5. God Games - This is arguably the song that had the most hype before its release. It had a bunch of animatics on YouTube back when all we really had to work with were a few snippets, and that hype stuck around for almost a full year. - And after listening to the song, it's easy for me to say that the hype was definitely deserved. - Another thing that I would like to say is that this song has a really fast pace. At first, I thought this made the song feel rushed, but then I realized something: that's the point. Mr. Rivera-Herrans has stated on multiple occasions that "Epic" takes inspiration from video games. With that in mind, considering how each of the gods has their own themes, as well as how fast the song is, it makes it clear that this song is meant to be a boss rush. The song goes fast because it HAS to. There's no time to be dragging out each debate, because Athena has to make sure she's ready for the next one. - On that note, "Love in Paradise" feels like a cutscene that takes place when "switching characters" over to Athena from Telemachus. - The first verse starts us off with Athena making it clear as to why she was considered to be Zeus' daughter in the Greek canon: "Father, God King Rarely do I ask for favors Now, I'm knocking on your door With hopes to save a friendship with one who's a prisoner far from home Odysseus"

- I did not expect Athena to be sucking up to anybody, but considering how egotistical Zeus is (ironic, considering how "Thunder Bringer" implies that he doesn't have any patience for hubris), this is most likely the best move she could have made. - I also noticed an interesting change that was made in the final cut of the song in comparison to the snippets: originally, Zeus tells Athena to convince Apollo, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, Ares, Hera, and him to set Odysseus free. However, in this version, he tells her to choose between persuading the aforementioned gods or him. Athena picks what is arguably the harder option. Keep this in mind. It will be important later. - The first god Athena has to go up against is Apollo: "You all know I'm a fan of catchy songs So with so many sirens gone, I think Ody's in the wrong" - Right off the bat, I was not expecting Apollo to lowkey sound like a hipster. That's cool, though. It works. - I like how Apollo being troubled by the siren deaths that took place back in "Different Beast" isn't because he doesn't approve of the murders themselves, but because the sirens were good singers. - Fun fact about the sirens: initially in Greek mythology, they were large birds with the heads of women. However, as time passed, they became replaced with mermaid-like creatures. - Luckily, Athena knows exactly how respond to such weird logic: by telling him that this actually helps the remaining sirens to stick around to sing more songs later.

"They were trying to do him worse All he did was reimburse them Now they'll tread with caution first To live another day and sing another verse"

- Now it's time for Hephaestus (and did y'all know that he's voiced by Jorge's dad? Both of his parents have shown up in this musical in important supporting roles. I think that's neat): "Trust is not given, it's forged Why should I give him my support? He sacrificed his own cohorts" - Hephaestus valuing trust and being upset with Odysseus for being willing to sacrifice his own crew members to Scylla works out so well when you consider that Aphrodite is constantly cheating on him with Ares. Why they didn't get a divorce is beyond me. The ancient Greeks divorced each other quite often, and it was easy for men to leave their wives. And there's even a myth were Hephaestus catches Aphrodite with Ares. So... yeah. Leave her, Hephaestus. You can do better. "Did you forget they failed to listen? He was betrayed and then imprisoned But if you make the right decision He can still build a future with those who miss him"

- What Athena is essentially saying here is: "Yeah, he did sacrifice his own men. But then they turned around and betrayed him right back. Nobody was innocent in that situation. But if you let him go, he can redeem himself with the people he has left." - Hephaestus (albeit begrudgingly) agrees with this. And Aphrodite, fittingly enough, is opponent number three (3): "[APHRODITE] Your little high and mighty Odysseus Claims to love his mother But let her die of a broken heart

[ATHENA] He was busy fighting

[APHRODITE] More like busy spiting the cyclops Let him feel the pain that his mother felt and rot" - I think Aphrodite's reasoning is highly flawed. Yes, the latter ten (10) years of Odysseus being missing from Ithaca could have been avoided if he didn't do the equivalent of giving the cyclops his government name, legal address, and social security number. BUT. She's acting as if he strayed off the path on purpose. Not only that, but in "The Underworld", Odysseus' mom's part of the song is all about how she died chilling in her rocking chair, willing to wait for her son for as long as it took. If anything, she died of old age, not of a "broken heart" as Aphrodite claims. - Furthermore, the part of the crew members who died heavily implies that the consciousness' of the dead in the underworld are a mixture of their memories and how they felt when they died. Hence why the crew members are confused as to why Odysseus spared the cyclops and are able to quote "Ruthlessness", and why Polities (😿) is still trying to encourage Odysseus to live with "open arms". In other words? Homegirl was not depressed when she died. Her lyrics about how much she loves her son and how she doesn't mind waiting for him is a representation of how she felt in her last moments. - TL;DR: Aphrodite is either making stuff up, doesn't truly know what happened, or is manipulating the situation to make it hard for Athena to argue with her. Hence why Athena pulls her into quick-thought. However, now Athena has another problem to deal with: "[ARES] Really Athena? These old tricks?

[ATHENA, spoken] Ares!" - Here we have another change from the snippets. In the older draft, Athena sounded more like she was in pain due to Ares interfering with her powers, but now she just sounds angry. Angry that he's interfering. - Ares' argument goes like this:

"What kind of sick coward Holds back his power While his friends get devoured? He didn't even fight Scylla Didn't even try to kill her Hides inside a wooden horse to get the job done Never handles things upfront Pathetic and weak like his son" - Before I lay into Ares' logic, I would like to explain more ancient Greek lore: both Ares and Athena were believed to be gods of warfare (and Aphrodite may have been considered to be one at some point as well). However, they both dealt with different "facets" of warfare. Athena was also considered the goddess of wisdom, and she was more associated with the strategic, "honorable" parts of war. Meanwhile, Ares was in charge of the bloody, tragic parts of war (which meant that not a whole lot of Greeks worshipped him). With this in mind, Ares' stance on Odysseus' methods makes more sense. However. That doesn't mean his reasoning isn't extraordinarily unsound: 1. "...sick coward/Holds back his power/While his friends get devoured": Odysseus willingly gave his friends over to get eaten by Scylla. Ares makes it sound like he was cowering in a corner while his friends were dying. 2. "...didn't even fight Scylla/Didn't even try to kill her": How could he?! Scylla's body has six dog heads, hence the six torches. Each of those heads, along with Scylla herself, are absolutely massive. Not only that, but the heads are attached to tentacles, meaning that they're chilling in the water most of the time. If one wanted to attack the heads, they would have to wait until they came out - and in that case, the heads are getting ready to strike. Fighting Scylla would've been a death wish. If Odysseus tried to fight her, WAY more than six people would've died that day, and it's likely that NOBODY would've been getting out of that alive. What good would a bloody, violent battle be if it was all completely pointless? 3. "Hides inside a wooden horse to get the job done": Oh, yeah. As if the Trojans would've just let the men of Ithaca inside. They had to sneak in because Troy was a walled city. If they wanted to force their way in on foot, they would have to either break down the walls or knock down the door. And while doing something like that wouldn't be impossible, they would've been at risk of giving the Trojans enough time to gather a force to confront them once they got in, making the battle take way longer and have much more casualties on the side of the Ithacans than needed, and/or they would've had to face archers shooting at them from the walls. And it seems like it would be pretty hard to break into a city if you have to hold a shield above your head the whole time to keep yourself from getting killed. 4. "Never handles things up front": Convenient how Ares just ignores the Winion confrontation, the cyclops battle, as well as the confrontation with Circe. Odysseus has no problem directly dealing with people. He's just smart enough to not get himself killed. 5. "Pathetic and weak like his son": Telemachus was never taught how to fight. He and his mother have been trying to keep caring for the suitors from putting them into poverty and from forcing Penelope to marry one of them. They have bigger fish to fry than getting into fights for no good reason. Furthermore, the one time Telemachus did get into a fight, he did so willingly, even though he lacked combat experience and was going up against someone stronger than him. He wanted to keep his mother safe that much. And he didn't even mind losing. How Ares could think he is "pathetic" is beyond me. - And don't get me started on him calling Odysseus pathetic. Please. We would be here all day. - Athena also has some choice words for Ares and Aphrodite: "Hold your tongue now His son's my friend And tell your lover that a broken heart can mend You want more bloodshed? Then set him free To get back to his homestead, he'll make everybody bleed" - GET 'EM ATHENA. TELL 'EM. TELL THEM HOW WHACK THEY ARE. - Let's move on to Hera: "[HERA] So many heroes So many tales Give me one good reason why yours should prevail

[ATHENA] He’s got the mind of a genius

[HERA] Try harder.

[ATHENA] He’s pretty skilled with words

[HERA] You can do better than that!" - One thing that can be noticed right away is that unlike the other gods Athena has faced, Hera isn't concerned about Odysseus' actions - she care more about his character, who he is as a person. - And Athena, like the gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss she is, figures out what will convince Hera after a few tries: "[ATHENA] Never once has he cheated on his wife

[HERA, spoken] ...Release him." - Before "The Circe Saga" came out, I thought Athena was lying here. After all, in the original "Odyssey", Odysseus does cheat on his wife. Twice (that we know of), actually. First with Circe (for an entire YEAR), and again with Calypso (even though being trapped on that island made him depressed, he was not above sleeping with her). - I am so glad that Jay cut both of those plotlines. While the ancient Greeks might have considered Odysseus to still be faithful, modern audiences would have had trouble buying that idea. - Furthermore, telling Hera that Odysseus never cheated on Penelope works for two reasons: 1. Hera was seen as the goddess of marriage. 2. Zeus cheated on Hera with a LOT of women, and has a LOT of illegitimate children. Hera has tried to kill some of them (see: The Labors of Heracles/Hercules) (with that said, I think its sweet how Hera's encouraging Athena instead of antagonizing her, since she's also an illegitimate child of Zeus'). - And would you look at that! Athena did it! She completed the task. Now let's see how Zeus reacts... "[ATHENA, spoken] I've played your game and won! Release him!

[ZEUS] You dare to defy me?! To make me feel shame?! No one beats me, NO ONE WINS MY GAME! THUNDER, BRING HER THROUGH THE WRINGER! SHOW HER I'M THE JUDGEMENT CALL, THE ONE WHO MAKES HER KINGDOM FALL!"

- Zeus responds to being beaten by striking his favorite daughter with lightning. - The question is: why?! She did what she was told, and she didn't cheat. Did he not expect her to win? Did he really think that the alleged goddess of wisdom wouldn't be able to outsmart her fellow Olympians? And if he didn't want her to succeed, why not add Poseidon to the lineup? He'd be enraged about Odysseus being alive at all. - Not only that, but she picked the harder option. Let me say again that Athena was supposed to be Zeus' favorite. She could've easily convinced her father by appealing to his ego and making a deal or two. But instead, she decided to increase her workload. And her reward for going above-and-beyond to prove herself is getting electrocuted? - Yeah, no. Zeus is now on the priority list for defenestration. And even then, getting yeeted out of a window might be too good for this man, once we take into account his treatment of Hera and women in general. - Ares asks if Athena is dead. A piano rendition of "Warrior of the Mind" begins to play. And based on how sad it sounds, I wouldn't be surprised if it was in a minor key. It doesn't look like Athena is getting up. As a matter of fact, it looks like this might be the end. - But this is what I'm going to call a "musical fakeout". Because next thing you know, a small part of "Legendary" starts playing, and then the brass kicks in. We are back in a major key. Athena has remembered Telemachus. She has remembered that Odysseus still needs her. She remembered why she's here. And she's not taking no for an answer: "Let him go, please... Let him go..." - Even after getting struck by lighting and what should've been an easy victory, Athena still finds the strength to get up and continue pleading for Odysseus' freedom. How awesome is that? - Oh, and based on Athena's tone here and the usage of the word "please", we know now why Zeus was so angry: Athena wasn't cowering enough when she told him that she beat him (do you think the Greek gods had windows large enough for a whole person to fit out of on Mount Olympus? Just asking...) - Also, this is the first final song out of all the sagas that doesn't feel like it has an ending moment of catharsis. All the other final songs had reached a place plot-wise that made ending its particular saga there make sense, or they had a brief instrumental at the end that let you know the saga was over. But this song simply ends with Athena asking for Odysseus be set free, and... that's it. We don't know Zeus' response. I was actually shocked (pun not intended... again) by this lack of closure. But I think it was done on purpose. We're not going to be "playing" as Athena anymore. The next saga switches us back to Odysseus, so we need to know how things go on his end (that, and it kills the tension for an answer to Athena's plea to be given explicitly by Zeus, or implied by the music). Final Thoughts - This should've been called "The Angst Saga" with all the emotional damage it has caused (exhibit A: me). - I hope "King" ends with an epic 1v1 fight between Antinous and Odysseus (or Telemachus. Telemachus works too), with Antinous getting knocked out of a window. - On that note, once again, please do not confuse anything negative I may have said about the characters with the actors or crew members of "Epic". I think the cast and crew of "Epic" are all great. Do not think that me talking smack about a character or wanting to see a character face karma is me speaking ill of or wishing harm on the actors, crew, or any other real people, because it is not. Thank you. - Somehow, the "Epic" team keeps making each saga better than the last. I have played this particular one three (3) times so far, and I will do it again.

Correction 11/4/24: Apollo was in a relationship with the muse Calliope, not Calypso. I got their names mixed up while writing this. I'm sorry about that.

[aiweirdness]

How to begin a novel

Last year for National Novel Writing Month I trained a neural net called torch-rnn on 10,096 unique ways to begin a novel. It came up with some intriguing possibilities, my personal favorite being “I am forced to write to my neighbors about the beast.” But many of its sentences used made-up words, or had such weird grammar that they were difficult to read, or meandered too erratically. (“The first day of the world was born in the year 1985, in an old side of the world, and the air of the old sky of lemon and waves and berries.”) The neural net was struggling to write more than a few words at a time.

This year, I decided to revisit this dataset with a larger, more-powerful neural net called GPT-2. Unlike most of the neural nets that came earlier, GPT-2 can write entire essays with readable sentences that stay mostly on topic (even if it has a tendency to lose its train of thought or get very weird). I trained the largest size that was easily fine-tunable via GPT-2-simple, the 355M size of GPT-2. Would a more-powerful neural net produce better first lines?

One of the parameters I can tweak when I’m getting a trained neural net to generate text is temperature - this controls whether the neural net chooses the most likely next bit of text as it writes, or whether it’s permitted to use its less-likely predictions. At a default of 0.7, a relatively conservative temperature, the neural net’s first lines not only make grammatical sense, but they even have the rhythm of a novel’s first line. This is DRAMATICALLY better than torch-rnn did.

I am, or was.

At the mid-day meal the sun began to set and the quiet dragged on.

There was once a man who lived for a very long time; perhaps three thousand years, or perhaps a thousand million years, maybe a trillion or so, depending on how the scientists look at it.

He had the heart of a lion, and the fangs of a man-eater.

"I am Eilie, and I am here to kill the world."

The old woman was sitting on a rock near the sea, smoking a pipe.

I have just been informed, that the debate over the question 'is it right or wrong to have immortal souls' has been finally brought to a conclusion.

When I was a boy, I was fond of the story of the pirate god.

He had a strange name, and he was a very big boy indeed.

The purple-haired woman came to the clearing in the plain, and without looking up from her book, said, "It's too late to be thinking about baby names."

The village of Pembrokeshire, in the county of Mersey, lies on a wide, happy plain, which, in a few years, was to become known as the "Land of the Endless Mountains."

I don’t think the neural net plagiarized any of these? They are so good that I’m suspicious. But others of the neural net’s lines are even weirder, yet in an effective way that opens with an intriguing premise.

The moon had gone out.

I was playing with my dog, Mark the brown Labrador, and I had forgotten that I was also playing with a dead man.

The black stone was aching from the rain.

The short, dirty, and dirty-looking ship that weighed three tons and was three feet in diameter landed on a desolate and green plain.

How many times have I had the misfortune to die?

The first black dog in the park had been captured alive.

Behold the Sky Rabbits!

In the belly of the great beast that was the bovine Aurore there lived, upon the right hand of the throne, the Empress Penelope; and she had, as it were, a heart of gold.

The moon stood on its own two feet.

The reeking maw of the blood-drunk ship, the enemy's flagship, was silent and empty.

The first day I met my future self, I was aboard the old dirigible that lay in wait for me on the far side of the moon.

The child of two cats, and a tiger, a clown, a horse, a bird, a ship, and a dragon, stood on either side of the threshold of the Gatehouse, watching the throng of travelers who came in from all around the world, before he had any idea what was going on.

I think it’s probably doing this accidentally, stringing likely words and phrases together without understanding what any of them really mean. It’s not that it’s good at science fiction or magical realism; it’s that it’s trying and failing to predict what would have fit in with the usual human-written stuff. Some of the neural net’s first lines really betray its lack of the understanding of the laws of physics. It really likes to describe the weather, but it doesn’t really understand how weather works. Or other things, really.

The moon was low in the sky, as though it had been shipped in from the farthest reaches of the solar system.

The first star I saw was a blue one, which became a scarlet one, and then a gold one, and green, and finally a yellow one, which for some years afterwards seemed to be an ebony one, or even a bubbling mass.

The sun rose slowly, like a mighty black cat, and then sank into a state of deep sleep.

The sea of stars was filled with the serenity of a million little birds.

The great blue field was all white, swept away by the blue-gold breeze that blew from the south.

The sky was cold and dark, and the cold wind, if it had not been for the clouds, would have lashed the children to the roof of the house.

The morning sun was shining brightly, but the sky was grey and the clouds aching.

The night that he finally made up his mind to kill the dog, the man was walking home from the store with his wife and child in the back seat.

Arthur the lion had been pretty much extinct for some time, until the time when he was petted by Abernathy the old woman, and her son, Mr. Popp.

One of the disadvantages of having a neural net that can string together a grammatical sentence is that its sentences now can begin to be terrible in a more-human sense, rather than merely incomprehensible. It ventures into the realm of the awful simile, or the mindnumbingly repetitive, and it makes a decent stab at the 19th century style of bombastic wordiness. I selected the examples above for uncomprehending brilliance but the utter tediousness below is more the norm.

The whites of my eyes shimmered, as if my mind were dancing.

I once went to a party where the dress code was as strict as a chicken coop with no leggings and no boots.

A black cloud drifted by, a mottled mass of hydrogen, a black cloud of hydrogen, with the definite characteristic of being black.

I say I am at sea, because I am standing upon the ocean, and look out across the barren, vast throng of the sea.

It is, of course, a trifling matter in the ordinary course of things, if a certain writer were to write a novel, which is a book of stories, which is a book of characters, wherein every detail of the story is stated, together with a brief description of the theme which it concerns.

There was a boy with blue eyes, with sandy hair and blue eyes that looked at all times like he had been pushed through a million compartments.

The Sun, with its rolling shaft of bright light, the brilliant blue of the distant golden sun, and the red glow of its waning corona, was shining.

The man who was not Jack the Ripper had been promoted four times in the last two years.

Felix the Paw was sitting at the table of his favorite restaurant, the "Bordeaux" in the town of Bordeaux, when his father, Cincinnata, came in to say good-by to the restaurant.

It, sir, gives me the greatest pleasure to hear that the Court be not too long in passing away: but that I may have leisure to prepare a new work for the publication of my friend and colleague, the renowned Epistemology, which is now finished; and in which I shall endeavour to show, that this very point is of the highest importance in the subject of the philosophy which I am about to treat of.

It was a rainy, drizzling day in the summer of 1869 and the people of New York, who had become accustomed to the warm, kissable air of the city, were having another bad one.

Repetitiveness is also common, especially at this conservative temperature setting. Once the neural net gets itself into a repetitive state, it doesn’t seem to rescue itself - it’s a problem that people have noticed in several versions of this algorithm. (It doesn’t help that I forgot to scrub the “title” that someone submitted to the dataset that consists of the word “sand” repeated 2,000 times)

The sky was blue and the stars were blue and the sun was blue and the water was blue and the clouds were blue and the blue sky was like a piece of glass.

At the end of the world, where the tides burst upon the drowned, there exists a land of dragons, of dragons, which is the land of the dragons.

It's the end of the world, it's the end of the world, it's the end of the world, it's the end of the world, it's the end of the world, you're dead.

There was once a land of sand, and sand, sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand sand

Increasing the temperature of the sampling would help the repetitiveness problem, in theory, letting the neural net venture into more interesting territory. But at a temperature of 1.0 the text tends to venture out of everyday surrealism and into wordy yet distractible incomprehensibility.

The praying mules on the top of the hills sounded the final klaxon, lifting their spiked front hoofs as they crept the last few feet of desert landscape past the crest of the enormous swathe of prehistoric sand.

In the glen of the Loch is a ladder that winds way up through a passage to a ledge with soft, moss-laden environmental standards.

Someone whipped a dead squash gibbet across the room, like some formidable war lord unleashing a heavy hunk of silver at home.

One blue eyed child stood up and cried out: "Douay, saurines, my Uncle – Fanny Pemble the loader!"

Jud - an elderly despot, or queen in emopheles, was sitting across the table from the king, looking very thoughtfully into the perplexions of the proceedings.

Oh, you're a coward little fool, as if you couldn't bear to leer at a Prunker or white-clad bodyguard quickly emerging from a shady, storm-damaged area of the city.

Hanging presently in his little bell-bottomed chamber on the landing-house, early in the morning, the iron traveler sat on a broad-blonde sandbricksannel blanket outside the gate of a vast and ancient island.

Long, glowing tongues trailed from your mouth as you listened to what was being said across this kingdom of ours, but growing a little more somber since the week that caused us to proclaim general war.

The night I first met Winnie the Pooh, I had sat in the Tasting-House and heard the Chef unpack the last of the poison upon his quiet dinnertable.

There is, of course, no perfect setting at which the neural net churns out sensible yet non-repetitive first lines. There are just varying shades of general awfulness, interspersed with accidental brilliance.

No matter how much you’re struggling with your novel, at least you can take comfort in the fact that AI is struggling even more.

I generated all the neural net sentences above using a generic “It” as the prompt that the neural net had to build on (it would usually go on to generate another 20-30 sentences at a time). But although the sentences are independent in my training data, GPT-2 is used to large blocks of text that go together. The result is if I prompt it instead with, say, a line from Harry Potter fanfic, the neural net will tend to stick with that vein for a while. I've included a few examples as bonus content for subscribers.

Update: I now have a few thousand unfiltered examples of neural net-generated first lines at the GitHub repository where I have the original crowdsourced dataset. Themes include: Harry Potter, Victorian, My Little Pony, and Ancient Gods.

My book on AI is out, and, you can now get it any of these several ways! Amazon - Barnes & Noble - Indiebound - Tattered Cover - Powell’s

[spcncershybrid]

Dead?- Spencer Reid Imagine Part Three

GIFS ARE NOT MINE

SPENCER REID X MIKAELSON!HYBRID!READER

(Summary: The final fight between Mallory and the Mikaelsons.)

(Sorry this took sooo long to post. I’ve been preoccupied of other imagines. This wasn’t proofread so there might be some errors.)

REQUEST ARE OPEN (See my pinned for the shows/movies I write for.)

Warnings: Probably a handful of curses but that’s it. 

“So what’s our plan?” Rebekah asks as we reach the Abattoir. “Well I was thinking of what you said before about killing them. I can link my life to Mallory and one of you can kill me. Then Davina can unlink us when Mallory dies. Afterwards we can enclose the area and make it burn. ” I say glancing towards them. They all look at each other weighing the plan. “The witch would die and the vampire would be burned.” I say as Klaus smirks delighted at the idea. I smile as they agree on the plan. We all step into the Abattoir glancing around the giant space. “I knew you’d all come.” Mallory says from behind us. “Well you did summon us.” I say turning towards her. “Where is our sister?” I ask, tapping my foot on the hard floor. “They’re early.” I hear a voice say from behind us. I turn around facing the voice meeting eyes with the deputy. “Hmm what ever shall we do hun?” Mallory asks, twirling her hair between her fingers. “We aren’t here for games, give us our bloody sister.” Klaus says aggravated. “In nearly five minutes maybe less. That stupid BAU team will be busting through those door you guys aren’t safe. Especially you Y/N, does Reid even know?” Mallory says smirking. I smirk back at her. “Well you’re trying to unleash a war with the Mikaelson family. Do you understand our ways or how psychotic we can be?” I say to her shoving my hands into my pocket. “Actually us Mikaelsons are very quick thinkers especially when mortal beings are involved.” I say looking at her in the eyes. “Pagina nostrae, pro tempore.” I say linking our lives together temporarily. “Mallory love, last time I checked witches were of the mortal species. I am part original vampire, a species that is immortal. Good luck on your safe voyage to wherever you go cause it’s for sure as hell isn't peace.” I say smirking happily. “Klaus and Davina you know your roles.” I say stepping towards them. Klaus speeds over snapping my neck instantly as Davina starts muttering a spell.

No Ones P.O.V

The BAU team storms into the Abattoir seeing their beloved team member lying lifeless on the floor. Davina works hard safely unlinking Y/N and Mallory’s lives leaving Mallory completely dead.

______________

Reader’s POV

I wake up from the floor gasping for air. I look at my surroundings being greeted by familiar faces. My team. I stand up dusting off my pants. “I will explain everything after I promise.” I say towards my team meeting eyes with Spencer. “If there is a later.” I hear the deputy say. I turn around facing him as he holds Freya's throat. We all stay silent for a moment.“Deputy Collins put the girl down.” Hotch’s stern voice breaks the silence. “They killed Mallory; they all deserve pain.” He spat holding Freya tighter. “Oh don’t be so dramatic. The Greenwood witch deserved her demise.” Klaus says bouncing on his feet. Morgan looks at Klaus stunned. “Invisique.” I whisper making myself invisible. Spencer and Morgan drop their guns. “Where the hell did they go?” Collins asks, turning around. “Here.” I say walking behind him snapping his neck. He drops to the floor letting go of Freya in the process. I make myself visible again gaining a few stares from my team. “Phase two?” Davina asks, running her hands through her hair. I nod and walk towards her. I guide the team and my siblings over to the wall. “Trace the floor with salt around his body.” I tell Rebekah. She runs off coming back with salt in an instant. Davina traces the body with salt. “Sit down and we’ll cross our hands over him.” I say quickly sitting on the floor laying my hands out for her. She grabs my hand and we close our eyes. “Adolebit corpus. Adolebit corpus. Adolebit corpus.” We chant as the deputy’s body slowly goes up in flames. We let go of each other and step back watching the flames die down. I look around at everyone and motion for us all to leave the Abattoir. We all leave, my team stunned at what had just happened. “I’ll explain but first let’s go to the Mikaelson Mansion to have our chat.” I say to them. “You guys can go compel the station.” I tell my siblings as I step into the van.

______________

We step inside the mansion. Emily and JJ immediately gawk at the size and interior. “It’s not as good as the old one but it will suffice.” I say laughing at their faces. “So for starters let’s go over here this area bigger and we can all talk.” I say pointing to the living room. “Damn Mikaelson this place is the bomb.” Derek says sitting down. The team laughs at Derek's voice of words. “Would you guys like anything to drink?” I say as they all get comfortable. They all nod. “Spencer, help me.” I say waving at him. He nods and walks with me to the kitchen. “What I said before Spence I meant it. But I can understand if this is a lot and you don’t want to deal with me or my family.” I say grabbing a bottle of wine. “You told me you loved me and I never returned it. Yes I won’t understand anything about you or your family but I still love you.” Spencer says grabbing the bottle from my hands. “Y/N Mikaelson, I love you.” Spencer whispers softly, smiling. “Sorry you had to meet my family this way.” I say laughing as I grab wine glasses for all of us. “It’s fine at least I got to meet them. When you left I thought you weren’t coming back.” Spencer says as we head to the living room. “I’m over 1000! Getting rid of me will have to be one hell of a job.” I say laughing as I sit down with them.

 ______________

“So can you explain this whole thing.” Rossi says, taking a sip of wine. “My family are over 1000 years old. I am kind of the middle child.” I say taking a sip of my wine. “My family is the world’s first vampire family, well vampires in general.” I continue. “I on the other hand am a hybrid. My mother was a witch and I was the first sibling to discover my powers and then my mother turned us all into vampires.” I finished. They all stare at me shocked. “So do you drink blood?” Emily asks. “Rarely. Being part witch suppresses my vampire side so I rarely get cravings.” I answer. “Wait wait do you look like the Cullen family when you change?” JJ says bouncing in her seat laughing. “No that’s probably the most offensive thing I have ever heard JJ.” I say laughing. “But to answer your question I think the Mikaelsons look scarier.” I say finishing my wine. “Oh you have to show us don’t leave us hanging.” Penelope says excitedly. “Do you guys really want to see it?” I say semi shocked. They all nod and lean forward interested. I take a deep breath and shut my eyes. I feel heat rush up my cheeks and towards my eyes. My fangs peek out and I open my eyes. “Woah that’s so sick.” Emily says bouncing back. “My brother Klaus has the craziest hybrid eyes.” I say shifting back. “Dear sister it’s not nice to talk about others behind their backs.” I hear Klaus say from behind me. “Ah the terrible brother.” I say jokingly. “Last time I checked Kol skipped off.” He says laughing before speeding off to the kitchen and coming back with a glass of wine. “Nik show them your hybrid face.” I say shifting quickly. “Being a hybrid isn’t a party trick sister. Remember 1384.” Klaus says drinking his wine. “I told you never bring that up.” I scold staring at him. “Fine but it was an amazing time.” Klaus says, quirking an eyebrow to the team. “Just show your vampire face Nik.” I say hitting his leg. “Alright you pesky child.” He says before shifting showing his yellow eyes and vampire face. “Yes!” I exclaim before leaning back into my chair. “Your family is amazing.” Hotch says laughing at the team. “I’ve dealt with them for nearly 900 years no they aren’t.” I say chuckling. “I thought you were 1000.” Spencer asks, slightly confused. “Let’s just say my brother Klaus was hellbent on daggering his siblings. I was one of the unlucky and was daggered for a century.” I say glaring at Klaus. “Oh my dear sister I know where you keep your daggers.” Klaus sas smirking. “But only I know where the White Oak ash is.” I say smirking back. He drops his smirks and speeds off to somewhere in the house. “Is this why you’re so fearless on cases?” Derek asks tilting his head to the side in curiosity. “Yep I literally can't die. So if an unsub decides to shoot me I'll be perfectly fine.” I say leaning into Spencer. “But being a vampire isn’t all glorious. We outlive our loved ones most of the time.” I say sadly. “Would you ever turn any one of us?” Derek asks, staring at Spencer. “No but if it’s that person's choice I’ll consider it.” I answer truthfully looking around.

______________

“They look so peaceful.” Spencer says as we stand in the middle of the kitchen watching the team sleep soundly on the couch. I laugh as I clean a wine glass. “Like Morgan asked earlier, would you ever turn one of us?” Spencer asked, turning to me. “Spence hypothetically if we're talking about you The answer is no. I’d rather stake myself with a White Oak stake than turn you into a vampire.” I say staring up at him. “You don’t think I’ll make a good vampire?” Spencer says jokingly, stepping towards me. “You would probably cry feeding off of something.” I admit hugging him. I feel him laugh as he wraps his arms around me. We stand for a moment before Spencer lets me go. “So what happened in 1384?” He asks, crossing his arms. I groan at his question. “I will kill Klaus for bringing that up again.” I say laughing as Spencer joins in laughing too.

[leuces]

Riverdale S5E2 Liveblog

- why is everything is so damn dark

- oh my god it’s bret

- did he just call jughead “slughead”??  is it because of the time when jughead knocked him out with just one punch

- BRET IS DEAD?!?!  this can’t be true...he was like one of the best villains, and the riverdale writers just decided to kill him off??  please let it be just a false alarm and he actually broke out of prison or something

- wait didn’t bret mention something before about needing to get into solitary confinement??  did one of his fellow inmates murder him?

- cheryl’s really yelling at the teacher for not getting her a special red outfit for graduation

- “fix this, or PERISH” askdfkfkgkfdkl

- why is veronica acting so nice?  archie literally cheated on her!!

- oh there’s a toni/cheryl scene

- wait what is cheryl’s “blossom business”??

- okay now betty and jughead are talking to dr. curdle jr

- oh god bret is actually dead

- they gauged out bret’s eyes???  jesus christ

- damn hiram really just came out of nowhere

- hiram’s yelling at archie for cheating on his daughter, and archie’s like “you want a rematch??”

- did hiram really just insult FRED?!?!  how dare he, fred is literally the only good adult in the entire series...like he’s a saint compared to hiram

- okay i just noticed how sweaty archie is.  do they just like. make kj apa pour water on himself before scenes where he’s sweaty?  or do they just make him exercise and then film right afterwards?

- hiram really just spit on the floor

- veronica really just told hermosa “now if you excuse me, i have to go take out the trash, and you’re lucky it doesn’t include you” afdfghdkkdfkfdk

- good god the guy’s really going to shoot veronica point blank

- i’m literally waiting for like any of the riverdale guys (the buff ones, not jughead) to just show up out of nowhere and run and bodyslam the guy holding the gun.  you know they would do it

- oh my god hermosa just shot the bad guys this is even better

- oh cheryl and nana rose are having a zoom meeting with the other blossoms

- “speak up i can’t hear you” akdkjfkfkkdf

- OH MY GOD cheryl’s giving land to the uktena (or she’s trying to)

- “why, you hatemonger?”

- god i hate cheryl’s relatives

- “your father is a fool” you’re right hermione, hiram really is a fool

- yes hermosa and veronica plotting together

- “sounds like you two are plotting a hostile takeover...i am so in”

- david’s dead too apparently

- wait...there was a hit-run case for fred...?  when was this a thing exactly?

- “we’re shutting you down, daddy” okay miss veronica i see you

- “you need to retire” and “papi, your reign is done” hiram getting bullied by his daughters we love to see it

- did hiram really just say that being a mobster is curing his disease

- thank you veronica for telling him that he’s an idiot

- “all i need to do business is my fists and a gun” sir aren’t you dying of a disease (i know he’s getting better, but still)??

- yes jughead got accepted to the university of iowa!!  (though i’m still salty that he had to give up going to yale for betty, even though she cheated on him and lied about it)

- i love how fp is just like “hot damn my boy is going to college” as if his other son - his actual firstborn son - hasn’t already gone to college and doesn’t have a successful career

- wait are falice just like. together while bughead is a couple??  are they just like platonically raising their children together??  what is their relationship status currently??

- wait i don’t like the look on jellybean’s face...what has she done???

- OH MY GOD JELLYBEAN IS THE AUTEUR!!

- okay cheryl’s talking to her mother now

- the “blossom board”?  that’s what they’re called?

- “make yourself scarce.  go away.  but don’t go at night...you need an alibi” is penelope really telling her teenage daughter to kill her relatives?  or am i just misunderstanding this?

- aww choni is having their own special weekend

- archie is writing a letter for the hit-run case

- now he’s having flashbacks

- i am so sad right now...i just feel so bad

- donna???  she’s back???  yes!!

- wait she’s asking for betty’s help, just like how bret did...

- if donna dies, i will literally lose it

- betty don’t let donna die!!  i mean i understand why, but i know that donna is probably going to die soon

- oh my god joan is actually dead

- donna’s probably dead too

- hermosa and veronica are having a scene together

- now archie’s confronting the hit-and-run guy

- now there’s another tape???

- this is the scariest one, by far

- jesus christ how are they not scared that a murderer is in the house??

- wait i was thinking that jellybean was the killer, but then i realized it was her in the bed

- “your astrological sign may be a scorpion daddy, but you’re like a dog” damn veronica

- hermosa sent the guys to beat up hiram???

- wait nana rose killed the other blossoms???

- jesus christ how many people are going to die this episode??  like there’s been like nine deaths and i’m only halfway through the episode

- (if they kill donna, i SWEAR)

- oh apparently penelope killed the other blossoms

- “consider it an early graduation present, cheryl” jesus christ.  some moms give their kids cars or parties, but penelope murders their family members for her daughter

- CHARLES IS THE AUTEUR oh my god i’m calling it

- it all makes sense.  like, the person needs connections into the prison to kill bret, which charles has because of chic.

- YES I’M CORRECT!!

- “true love knows no boundaries” charles out here trying to be shakespeare or jane austen or something

- oh my god...black hood and charles parallels!!  they both only killed people who they thought deserved it (for Hal, it’s more complicated than that, but you know)

- wait, but like by charles’s definition, chic should also die

- oh god why do i have the feeling that charles is going to turn out to not be the auteur

- i was right

- oh hiram is finally going to retire

- damn hermione’s going to become a real housewife of new york

- oh god mary’s watching the tape with the black hood and fred

- archie why are you destroying the tv oh my god

- this episode is such a freaking rollercoaster of emotions good god

- wait, BETTY IS THE AUTEUR

- she probably isn’t, but you know

- fred’s brother is back, for some reason??

- jellybean is the auteur!!  i called it before, and i’m correct apparently!!!

- oh my god, it’s like, everyone in the cooper-jones family (or whatever the hell it is at this point) is a serial killer or a criminal

- okay, jellybean being the auteur makes no sense at all.  “she wanted him to stay” by recording him and scaring him??  jesus christ, jellybean has worse plans than her family members

- (deeply sighs) not the darkness thing again

- oh my god archie and his uncle (i think his name is frank??) are going to fred’s grave, and archie forgives the hit-and-run guy.

- this episode was such a freaking rollercoaster of emotions.  i don’t even know what to say.

[camillemontespan]

she wolves [part seven: raspberry]

Part Six if you want to catch up

Warnings: Character death. 

@jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @moonlightgem7 @burnsoslow @ibldw-main @emichelle @katedrakeohd @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @mskaneko @nazariortega @dcbbw @gardeningourmet @iplaydrake @notoriouscs @star-spangled-eyes @rainbowsinthestorm @stopforamoment @pedudley @drakesensworld @pug-bitch  @msjr0119

***********************************************

Kiara

Cordonia is in even more of a limbo now after the passing of Leo. Only Olivia and I know the truth, we know he was murdered in his bed by Madeleine but only Olivia knows how she wants to proceed.

I'm terrified.

You don't cross Olivia Nevrakis unless you have a death wish.

The funeral is today, a few days following the announcement of his passing. As like his younger brother, Leo is given a state funeral and the public come out in droves to pay their respects. He was well loved. Despite the fact he abdicated and left the country to his dictator brother, everyone in Cordonia had hoped the abdicated king would come home and save them.

That was all anyone wanted.

But instead, he came home and now no longer breathes.

He is displayed in an open casket and is drowned in gold military regalia, despite the fact he never served.

Madeleine reaches his coffin and with a tear sliding down her cheek, she presses her hand to his face and audibly whispers, 'I love you.'

Someone give the girl an Oscar.

I watch Drake and Camille approach him next. Drake's features are drawn and I know what he's thinking. Another Rhys brother dead.

Olivia is next. Her posture is ramrod straight and her hair is pulled back into a high ponytail that hangs down her back. She wears a black net over her face. She looks like a regal widower, except she and Leo were never married.

She presses a kiss on Leo's cold lips and everyone in the room gasps. This is her announcement that she loved him. This is Olivia claiming him as hers.

Madeleine

I stare at Olivia, trying to keep my face calm but I know it's not working. She has kissed Leo in front of everyone. Nobody knew about them. Nobody knew about our uneasy arrangement.

She strides down the marble steps and her eyes narrow at me as she passes. She doesn't need words to tell me that she did that deliberately.

I sense people watching me so I flash them a smile and follow the procession out of the room. Cold and unflinching, that is what I have to be.

Olivia

I go back to my room at the palace. I tear my black net away from my face and toss it on the bed. I sit down at my dressing table and look at my reflection in the mirror. I look paler than usual and my eyes even have eyebags from sleepless nights. It's hard to get to sleep when I believe that I can see Leo lying beside me, the ghost of him always around.

I have a plan.

All I need to do is speak to Kiara.

Kiara

My mobile rings. I don't recognise the number so I reject it, going back to watching the news channel about Leo's funeral.

'Olivia kissed him!' one of the hosts says. 'Did you know something was going on with them?'

'I had no idea!' Natalia, the main newsreader, says. 'I do wonder what Madeleine thinks of all this. It was quite a statement..'

My phone rings again. Sighing, I pick up. 'Hello?'

'Fucking hell, Kiara, you're annoying to get hold of.'

It's Olivia.

'Oh! Sorry Olivia, I don't have your number so -'

'Well, know it now!' she says bluntly. 'I need to talk to you.'

I mute the TV and focus on the phone call. I hope its nothing bad.

'I need you to throw a dinner party for the other ladies,' she says. 'Camille, Penelope, Hana and Madeleine. Me too, of course.'

I'm wary. I have never trusted Olivia and I don't plan to start now. She senses my discomfort as she continues to speak. 'Just a dinner party.'

I don't believe her. 'Why?' I challenge. 'Why invite Madeleine of all people? I know you want her blood so why invite her to a dinner party?'

I know she's rolling her eyes. 'Enough with the questions, Kiara -'

But I've had it. I'm tired of being seen as too quiet, too boring, too weak. I need to stand up for myself.

'No, Liv,' I tell her, my voice harsh. 'If you want me to host a dinner party, then you need to tell me why. I need to know what you have up your sleeve.'

'What makes you think I have something up my sleeve?' she asks, her voice like silk.

'Because I know you,' I tell her, my voice steady. 'I know what you're like. You enjoy manipulation and power plays. There's always an agenda with you.'

'Wow, don't beat around the bush,' she drawls. I stay quiet, wanting my silence to speak volumes.

She sighs. 'Kiara, I can't tell you what I have planned. To involve you even more would make you an accomplice.'

My blood runs cold. 'Accomplice?'

'Trust me, you don't want to know. I just need a venue and an innocent excuse to get Madeleine in the room without prompting suspicion.'

I bristle at this new detail. Olivia has given away more than she meant to.

'So this is about Madeleine.'

She is silent.

'Olivia, I'm not getting involved with you and Madeleine -'

'You won't be,' she says. 'All you have to do is let us into your home for one evening and let me do the rest. Nobody will suspect you. Besides, the less you know, the better because then you can rightly say you had no idea of what I'd been planning.'

'Olivia -'

'We can be allies,' she says urgently. She reeks of desperation. 'Me and you. If I don't win the crown then I can support you. Or, if I do win the crown, I will ensure that you are given a role within my council. You can travel around the world, represent Cordonia!'

'Olivia, you're pathetic,' I spit, disgusted with her.

She goes silent. I hear her breath coming out harsh, almost like she's choking.

'I need her gone,' she whispers, her voice cracking. 'I can't have that monster on the throne. She killed Leo. I can imagine she also killed Liam as his room also smelled of vanilla when he was found.'

I can't help but gasp. 'How did you know that?'

'Leo told me,' she mutters. 'The smell of vanilla haunted him afterwards.'

We're both quiet. She is waiting for my answer. I think about Cordonia under Madeleine's rule. She would become power mad. She would be a cold queen, unfeeling.

Olivia may be a terrifying person but I know she is loyal to Cordonia and she does have some sort of emotion. I don't want her to be Queen, clearly, but anything is better than Madeleine. Especially now.

'In interviews, when asked which of your competitors you respect most, you say my name,' I dictate.

'Done,' she says.

I think to myself. 'You stop insulting me and treating me like I'm the shit on your shoe.'

'Done,' she says.

I sigh. 'I'll invite them this weekend.'

'Good,' she says. 'Oh, Kiara?'

'Yes?'

'Don't you fucking dare make me beg again.'

Camille

Drake hasn’t stopped smiling since we found out I’m pregnant. He is practically giddy. We’re going to the hospital today for a dating scan and he helps me into the car even though I don’t need assistance; he’s so eager to be supportive. 

Usually our driver will take us  places but today, Drake insisted on driving us himself. 

‘This is the beginning of the Walker family,’ he told me. ‘I want to be like a normal family, just us and our kid. I want to drive us everywhere, do normal family things, just be Drake and Camille.’

I understand completely. We don’t want any frills or fuss about this; we want to act like a normal couple on our way to a hospital appointment. 

He plays the radio station I like in the car, which is Absolute 90s. He hates 90s music but he’s put it on for me specially because he wants me to be happy. I’m so happy already, nothing can taint this joy I feel inside, but he just keeps trying. He even goes the extra mile and sings along to The Backstreet Boys. ‘Tell me whyyyyy!’ 

I burst out laughing and he grins at me, not caring how cheesy he is being. ‘What? I’m so fucking excited, Camille!’ 

I reach over and hold his hand. He squeezes it gently and I can see the kind of father he will be. Protective, loving, utter goofball.  My marshmallow. 

                    **************************************************************

‘You’re eight weeks along,’ Dr Valentina confirms. ‘So far, the baby is as big as a raspberry.’

Drake presses a kiss on my forehead and whispers, ‘Our little raspberry.’ 

He is so involved. He’s asking the doctor so many questions: ‘What can she eat? What does she have to avoid? Will morning sickness fade? What can I do to help?’

Dr Valentina answers every question and just when she is about to go onto something else, Drake comes up with another question. He is already so in love with our little family and I feel my heart swell as I watch him. 

‘I’ll give you two a moment,’ the doctor tells us and she leaves the room. Drake turns to me and his eyes are crinkled up in the corners because he’s smiling so much. 

I lean over to kiss him softly. When we part, he is still smiling. 

‘I love you,’ I murmur. He reaches out to twirl a lock of my hair around his finger and his eyes roam my face, taking me in. Drake always makes me feel like he’s memorising every detail of me; like I’m not real and will fade away before he can commit my features to memory. 

‘Husband and father joint first, Duke second,’ he says simply. I frown. ‘What do you mean?’

‘My priorities. You and Raspberry are my only priority. Family comes first before everything else.’ He places his hand on my stomach. ‘I’m never going to forget that. You both are everything to me.’ 

I blink back happy tears and place my hand on top of his. ‘So are you. Wife and mother joint first, Duchess second.’ 

We don’t mention the possibility of me becoming Queen. This is not the moment for that. This is our little pocket of normality which is us finding out how far along I am and how tiny our baby is. Nothing else is allowed to disrupt this peace. I just want us to continue being this happy and hopeful for our future together. 

He kisses me hard, a deep, urgent kiss that conveys his absolute devotion. 

‘Family first,’ he whispers. 

         ******************************************************************************

Kiara

That weekend, the other ladies arrive at my home for an elegant dinner. I’ve chosen the finest wines and delicious cheeses for us to enjoy and the dining room is decorated with tall pillar candles. I am trying my best to conceal my nerves over what Olivia has planned. I don’t want to know what she’s doing but I wish I had some sort of idea so I could prepare. 

I assume she’s asked me to host because Madeleine can’t say no. It would be rude and arrogant for her to reject my invitation; if Olivia had invited her, Madeleine would have given her the cold shoulder. 

The other ladies are invited as a cover. Make this look like a dinner party but really, it’s Olivia’s revenge. 

Olivia arrives first. She is wearing her usual red, a long silk red dress with a split up the thigh. Around her thigh is a holster with a dagger encased inside it; purely for show or is she intending to use it?

Around her arm is a ruby cuff that resembles a snake. It twists around her arm and glints in the candle light. 

Camille arrives next. She is wearing an emerald green silk dress, rose gold heels and her hair is pulled up in her signature chignon. She always looks chic and sophisticated, which is a true feat for an American. 

She and Olivia exchange awkward small talk; Camille rejects a glass of wine, instead asking for sparkling water. Our eyes meet and I give her a smile as a sort of silent congratulations.

Soon, everyone is here. Penelope arrived later than everyone which is a surprise as she is usually so prompt but I see her hair is a little dishevelled and she has a pink flush to her cheeks. I look out of the front door and see her driver, Thomas, getting back into the vehicle. I wink at Penelope and she puts her finger to her lips. ‘Shh..’ she whispers, a sneaky smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Madeleine is wearing black. She never wears black but she is acting the part of grieving ex-fiancee so she has to stick to her role. Olivia’s eyes scan her black dress and she gives a harsh laugh, shaking her head in disgust. 

We all sit down at the long table and toast our glasses together. 

‘Any reason why you’re not drinking wine, Camille?’ Madeleine asks. 

Camille keeps her face straight. ‘I just don’t feel like drinking, that’s all.’ 

‘But Kiara always has the best wine,’ Madeleine says, her eyes flashing. ‘It’s rude to reject your host’s efforts.’

Camille’s eyes widen and she looks at me, ready to apologise, but I shake my head. ‘Don’t worry, Camille,’ I say. ‘I’m not offended at all.’ 

She gives me a grateful smile and sips her water. 

‘I think you’re lying,’ Madeleine continues. ‘It’s just us girls. Let’s be honest!’

She is trying to get a rise out of Camille but she forgets that Camille is usually level headed and has been trained by the best to always smile while gritting your teeth. 

‘Well, if you want to start talking about honesty, Madeleine..’ Olivia says, her voice laced with venom. 

Madeleine blinks. ‘Whatever do you mean?’

She blinks again, trying to look like Bambi. Olivia looks like she wants to launch herself across the table at her rival. Instead, she stands up and struts out of the room, her head held high.

Olivia

I pick up my handbag and go into the kitchen. Spotting a servant, I beckon them over.

'Serve this to Madeleine,' I instruct, taking the bottle I've brought with me out of my bag. 'She'll love this wine.'

The servant looks too terrified of me to ask what I'm doing in the kitchen or why I'm handing them this suspicious bottle. This is when being feared becomes a positive thing. People do what you want, no questions asked.

The servant takes the bottle and I turn on my heel back into the hallway. I'm about to re-enter the dining room when a familiar voice behind me stops me in my tracks.

'Hey, trouble.'

I turn slowly to see Leo.

I collapse against the wall. My heart is pounding and my skin breaks out in a sweat. I'm seeing things, I'm definitely seeing things. He is leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed with his lazy smile on his face. He's wearing a white shirt, the top three buttons open, and black trousers. It's what he was wearing when Kiara found him.

I close my eyes, willing him to disappear, and open them again. He's gone.

I turn back towards the dining room but the cold air around me has me frozen and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I hear Leo whisper in my ear, 'Be careful, my love.'

                         ********************************************

Penelope

I'm day dreaming again. I can't help it. Madeleine started insulting Hana and I zoned out, my automatic reaction when it comes to Madeleine and her bitchy comments.

I think about Thomas. He is waiting outside for me in the car, doing his job as my parents ask. But what they don't know is that I was in the back seat with him before I knocked on Kiara's door. I straddled his lap and fucked him hard.

'Now both Rhys brothers are dead, surely there will be an investigation?' Hana asks, breaking into my thoughts.

Madeleine scoffs. 'Investigation into what?'

'Well, they were both found in their beds,' Hana says, her voice sharp. 'Bit suspicious, isn't it?'

'I think Leo would want us to move forward,' Madeleine tells her. 'He wouldn't want us to dwell on the past.'

Olivia comes back into the room and let's out a cold laugh. 'Is that why you're wearing black, Maddie?'

Madeleine's lip curls in contempt. 'Don't call me that.'

Olivia sits down and stares at Madeleine. 'I can call you what I want. Maddie. Mads. Bitch. Desperate. Murderer.'

We all start at this last word.

I see Kiara's eyes widen and she scrambles trying to move the conversation on -'More wine!- but we are all fixated on Olivia's accusation.

Madeleine looks like a fish out of water. 'Don't call me that.'

Olivia raises an eyebrow. 'What? Which word? Desperate? Murderer?'

'WINE!' Kiara calls out. The servants come rushing in with a tray of glasses filled with wine and set them out in front of us. Camille rejects hers and picks up her glass of water.

Kiara

I need this to calm down but I know that Olivia and Madeleine are too far gone. I didn't expect Olivia to call out Madeleine with such an accusation. I curse myself. Usually, I'm good at reading people and situations. I should have expected this to blow up. Why else did Olivia want to invite her?

Olivia picks up her glass to do a toast. Everyone follows suit, too scared to say anything.

'To Leo,' Olivia says. 'May he rest in peace.'

We all say, 'To Leo,' except Madeleine who tosses her wine down her throat.

Olivia stares at Madeleine with a look of pure hatred and something else etched on her face before speaking.

'May he rest knowing he hasn't died in vain.'

Hana

Madeleine's face turns purple. Literally purple.

'Um, guys..' I say, pointing at her. 'Madeleine.'

Madeleine begins to choke and she brings her hand around her neck, spluttering and coughing. 'Help..' she croaks.

'Nobody can help you now,' Olivia tells her, sipping more of her wine.

I turn to her. 'Olivia, what have you done?'

She shrugs. 'What I should have done ages ago.'

I look at Kiara who has gone white. I see everyone around this table has gone white.

'We have to do something!' I scream. I forget that I hate Madeleine and she makes me feel like shit. Her life is at stake, she is choking.

I get up to help. Camille is on her feet also, shaking, and we are all shouting at once, panicking while Madeleine chokes some more.

She falls to the floor.

'Oh god, oh god!' Camille shouts, rushing over to get on her knees. 'Do I roll her over?! She'll choke on her back -'

'She's choking anyway,' Olivia drawls. 'She'll be dead in a minute.'

Madeleine's fingernails claw at the floor and a horrible sound emits from her throat. Tears are pouring down my face as I get down beside Camille, who has rolled Madeleine onto her side.

Kiara is screaming at Olivia.

'This was your plan?! You were going to poison her?!'

'Yes, this was my plan,' Olivia replies. 'Deal with it.'

Kiara

I'm furious. I knew Olivia was planning something but not this. I didn't expect poison. I didn't expect to see Madeleine fighting for her life.

'I thought you would only make her tell the truth, not poison her!' I scream, unable to calm down. 'You're just as bad as she is!'

'How do you know she murdered Leo?' Penelope bursts out. She's holding onto the edge of the table, tears falling down her cheeks. 'What proof do you have?'

Olivia whips around to speak but is interrupted by Hana.

'She's dead.'

We all look down at Madeleine who is lying still. Foam has frothed at her mouth and her eyes are open and like glass.

Camille has pressed her hands against her mouth, stifling sobs. 'Oh no.. Oh no..' she whispers.

Her hands then go down to her stomach and she turns on Olivia.

'I'm pregnant!' she screams. 'What if that drink had been given to me?!'

'You've been rejecting wine all evening, it's fine,' Olivia says, rolling her eyes. 'You wouldn't have been killed accidentally.'

Camille's breath comes out shallow. She looks like she's going to pass out.

Hana's eyes narrow at Olivia. 'If you're right and she killed Leo, you're just as bad as she is.'

Olivia is on her feet now. 'I know she did because she was the last person he saw the night before he died! The room smelled of vanilla which is HER scent! You know what other room smelled of vanilla? LIAM'S! She killed both of them in cold blood! She needed to be stopped!'

'You didn't have to kill her!' Penelope shrieks, joining in. 'You could have reported her to the police, got her investigated! But no, instead you had to be typical Olivia and resort to violence!'

'Oh, do shut up Penelope,' Olivia droans. 'It's done.'

'Why did you involve us?' Hana asks. 'We can just go to the police and tell them what you have done.'

We all look at Olivia who's face is hard to read. But I know that she doesn't feel remorse.

'If you go to the police,' she says, 'you'll have a similar fate to that murderer at our feet.'

'You're disgusting,' Camille chokes out. 'You're not even human.'

Olivia's eyes flash.

'I did what I had to do. Accept it.'

[xxsovereignsarayaxx]

Elizabeth Mikaelson - What If?  Chapter 9

Authors Note: Hey guys hope your enjoying the series! You can re-read or catch up here. Feedback helps me make better a writer! 🖤

After leaving Elijah in the alley way in Mystic Falls I thought it was best to take some time for myself to clear my head and I did just that. My relationship with Elijah wasn't over and I still cared and loved him like I have always done but I wanted to become stronger and the only way I could do just that was to have some space, I packed a few things and went to go see Penelope, we had met up in a local coffee shop in New York. 

"When you told me you walked away from Elijah part of me did think I had a shot with him." Penelope teased. 

"Very funny." I said to her rolling my eyes. 

"But seriously why did you walk away?" She asked me. 

Taking a sip of my coffee I sighed. "I can't always rely on Elijah to protect me, it puts far too much pressure on him, its hardly fair either. Yes he is an original and cannot be killed to a certain extent but if a white oak stake to the heart doesn't kill him stress surely will. What Klaus did to me was over the mark I will not let it happen again." I say to her. 

"Ooooo you used Klaus, this definitely means trouble. All jokes aside though momma, your back on the vervain so you can't be compelled which is a start. And your blood lust seems to have settled. Your not drowning your sorrows in blood like you were doing. I say this is a victory." Penelope replies. 

“I’m just worried about Elijah now, I haven’t heard from him in a few days which means something is seriously wrong and that Klaus has put the dagger back in Elijah’s heart.”

I had my phone on the table and it started to vibrate, I glanced at the screen hoping it was my husband however it wasn't the Mikaelson I was hoping to hear from. "Hello love." Niklaus says on the phone. 

"Niklaus to what do I owe the pleasure of a phone call?" I reply bluntly. 

"You had disappeared love, just wanting to hear from my lovely sister in law." He replies. 

"I've been gone a mere two weeks but well you can clearly recognize I am in the realm of the living. I couldn’t help but notice that Elijah hasn’t attempted to get in touch. I take that is your doing?" I reply sarcastically. 

"Elijah is where he belongs love." He says. 

"Desiccating in a coffin then I presume? Back at it daggering your siblings I gather do tell me when will Rebekah, Kol and Finn be joining us?" I asked smiling down my end of the phone. 

"That is none of your concern, but I'm curious where are you?" He asks. 

I took another long sip of my coffee hoping it hadn't gone cold. "Why I'm in the Big Apple brother, but do indulge me if I may be so bold. Word on the street is that you broke your curse. But I fail to see the ever growing Hybrid army. I take global domination is at a stalemate?" I teased. 

"Yes well there are a few complications, if your finished in whatever nonsense your up to will you care to join me? I happen to have Stefan Salvatore with me as well." He replies. 

"Why on earth have you dragged the poor boy with you? He has no interest helping you and your machinations." I asked him. 

I saw the door to the coffee shop open and close and a man in a navy blue suit approached the table. I looked at Penelope to which she looked confused. 

"When you join me in Chicago all will unfold and..."

 "Niklaus I'm going to have to call you back." I interrupted and ended the call.

"Can I help you?" I ask the stranger. 

"Miss Priston?" The man asks. 

"I think you have me mixed up with someone else." I replied. I drank the rest of my coffee and placed the cup on the saucer. 

"Miss Elizabeth Priston." The man replies. 

I let out a sigh. "I haven't been called by my maiden name in centuries, have a seat..." I start gesturing for the man to sit down. 

"Jacob Josephs." he replies. 

"This seems like you both could talk better if I wasn't here, I'll catch you later momma." Penelope says as she leans to kiss my cheek and leaves the table exiting the coffee shop. 

"So Mr Josephs how can I be of service? You seem to know who and what I am. Which means you either a vampire, werewolf or witch. So which is it?" I ask him tapping a finger on the table.

"Your a hard lady to track down, however I'm guessing you remember you younger sister Sara-May?" I stared at the man in front of me hearing the name of my sibling who I never really got to see grow up made me rather angry.

"Perhaps if you happen to use the correct surname finding me would have been a lot easier, however you seem to be either bold or stupid to mention members of my family to whom have been dead for centuries now, so unless you wish to have your neck snapped or heart ripped from your chest I suggest you start talking." I snapped. 

"Ahhh that fire I heard so much of but it appears your incorrect on some facts. It is true that your family have passed except your sister Sara-May until recently, were you aware that she possessed the gift of magic?" Jacob asks. I looked at him with disbelief and shook my head. 

"Sara-May was five years old when I transitioned into a vampire so no I wasn't aware of that, let alone witches ran through my families bloodline, what has this go to do with me?" I asked my temper growing by the second. 

The man who sat opposite took a moment, let out a sigh and swallowed. "Sara-May was my wife, I loved her dearly she was everything to me but I was unaware that she jumped into numinous bodies over the years. I too am a witch and I tried every spell I knew to try and bring her back but nothing worked. For the last three years I have been searching for you, she mentioned before of having a sister and because she was a witch I hoped you were as well."

I was in my car driving to Chicago and all I could think about was the conversation I had with Jacob. Hearing that for centuries my sister had lived many lives in a different face every now and then. But what shocked me the most was the fact she had recently died.

"After the birth of our baby girl Sara-May grew distant from magic, stopped it all together saying that it would be safer for us all. She became paranoid and depressed, doctors said this was normal with post-natal depression and that in time she would settle, but she never did she seemed to get worse everyday unable to bond with our daughter and there wasn't much else I could do for her. When our daughter turned four months old she died. Sara-May took her own life, I found her grimore beside her body."  

"I'm sorry for your loss Jacob I really am but what are you expecting me to say? I was under the impression that Sara-May had died all those years ago I never knew of her fate otherwise I would have tried to help her. How are you coping with looking after the child?"

"Nicole, she’s sixteen months old now. We have our good days and bad days. I can tell she misses her mother."

"I don’t understand? Why have you been looking for me for three years?”

“If I'm being honest with you I noticed Sara's downfall then. She would speak of you fondly and I thought that if I could find you maybe it would of sparked something that ultimately could of prevented all of this."  

I felt as if the world was resting on my shoulders, not only had I learned that my sister found love married and had a baby but took her life shortly afterwards leaving the poor child without a mother. Something we both had suffered when we were children. Another thing that was resting on my mind was the matter that I descended from a witch bloodline. Not like it would matter now due to the fact I was a vampire and nature demands balance you cannot be both. However Niklaus was an exception. I explained to Jacob that I would aid him when required but limited to what I could offer. 

If I felt that the child would be safe I would have brought Jacob and his daughter into the family but because all of us are mostly at each others throats it would have not been a wise choice and with the lack of my husband’s presence very much out of the question. Keeping my eyes on the road I scrolled through my phone to find the contact for my brother in law, pressing it I waited to hear his voice on the other end. 

"I see I peeked your interest love." Niklaus says through the phone. 

"Yes well someone needs to keep a tight hold on your leash brother." I reply sarcastically. 

Later on I arrived at a shop where Niklaus and Stefan were at, a recent awakened Rebekah needed some new look and they were waiting for her to finish picking some new outfits. 

"So women in the twenty-first century dress like prostitutes, then. You know, I got dirty looks for wearing trousers." She says looking at herself in the mirror. 

"Bekah, you wore trousers so women today could wear nothing." I say entering the shop, Rebekah span round and instantly a smile formed her face as she swiftly walked over to bring me into a long awaited hug. 

"Lizzie! I've missed you so much!" She says. 

"I've missed you too Bekah, it's lovely to see you." I say to her letting go. 

Rebekah turns back to a bored Niklaus and Stefan as they were seated on a plump white leather sofa. "And what is this music? It sounds like a cable car accident." Rebekah asks. 

"It's dance music." Stefan replies sounding bored. 

"And people dance to this?" Rebekah replied back. 

"Unfortunately yes they do, not the best taste in music I agree. But music has evolved and suppose so should we." I tell her perching next to Niklaus. 

"May I have a word outside?" I ask in his ear. 

Niklaus looks at me in the eyes and nods as we made our way outside the shop. 

"I need to know when will you un-dagger my husband." I tell him. 

"Not at the moment love." Niklaus replies with a smirk as he tries to turn his back and walk back into the shop. I quickly grab his sleeve to his coat. 

"Nik please. I need him, I need Elijah." I ask. 

"I'll take it under consideration." He responds and I let go of him. 

“Why is it you get to be happy but the rest of us must suffer?” I asked as I let out a huge sigh and watch him walk back inside, shortly following him. 

"And why are you so grumpy?" Rebekah asks her brother. 

"I needed one thing from you for my witch to find out why my hybrids are dying, one thing. Your necklace. And you lost it." Niklaus snaps back at her. 

Rebekah heads back inside the changing room to change her clothes into something else she had picked out. "I didn't lose it. It's just been missing for ninety years." She replies sarcastically heading back out of the changing room. 

What she had picked out didn't quite suit her but I wasn't prepared to have my neck snapped so I kept quite. "So what do you think?" She asks Stefan. 

"I like it." He replies. Rebekah and I just stare at him, I roll my eyes and Rebekah follows suit. 

"What? I said I liked it." Stefan says. 

"I can always tell when you're lying, Stefan." She says as she goes back into the changing room. 

Using the back of my hand I slap Stefan on the upper arm. "Nice one. Good work." Niklaus says to him. 

"Lying to a woman where clothes are concerned is a big no-no." I followed up. 

"Your the one who pulled that dagger out of her." He replies swiftly. 

"I heard that!" Rebekah shouts from the other side of the changing room. 

"All right. I'm going to get some fresh air." Stefan says as he gets up and leaves the shop.

Niklaus gets up and pours himself a glass of champagne, I clear my throat making the hint that I would also like a glass. "So Lizzie do tell me whats happened in the last ninety or so years while I've been away." She asks coming back out to sit with her brother on the sofa. 

"Well then lets see, Nik has daggered Elijah again..." I start sarcastically looking at him. 

"I found out that my sister somehow survived medieval England, recently had a baby and died, so I'm doing marvelous on my own since your dear brother will not grant my request to bringing Elijah back to the living." I ranted at the pair. 

"You and Elijah have plenty of time to play happy families later." Nik says. I roll my eyes at him. 

"Yes but my family needs me now." I snap back at him. 

"If I remember correctly the Mikaelson's are your family love." Niklaus spats.

I rush over to him knocking the the glass out of his hands. "Just watch your tongue, yes I may have only recently learned of my sisters fate but she is still my sister and still my family, so I'm sorry if that baby needs a female role model in her life." I shouted glaring at him in the eyes. 

Niklaus loses his temper and spins me around grabbing my throat and pinning me to the wall, the golden colour of his eyes burned into my own as his fangs and veins appeared before me. We stare at each other for a few moments until Rebekah breaks the silence. 

"Nik let her go." She warned. Niklaus stared at me again and then lets go, I cough allowing the oxygen to flow back into my lungs, wiping the feeling of his hands from my neck.

Shortly after the confrontation with Niklaus I left the clothes shop to get some fresh air, moments later Niklaus and Rebekah joined me as well we started to walk back to the bar that Niklaus' witch was located. "Since you seem to deny most of my requests, I have a simple one for you. Don't suppose I could have a chat with that witch of yours?" I ask Niklaus sarcastically as we walked down the street. 

"Keep giving me attitude love and I'll make sure you never see Elijah again." He snapped back. 

"It is such a pathetic and little life you lead brother, you hate the fact I'm not scared of you and your using Elijah to bend me to your rules making sure I am kept in line. Let me get one thing straight, you will never fully control me. Have I made myself clear?" I threatened. 

"Unless you wish to have a stake protruding from your chest I suggest you pipe down." Niklaus replies. 

"You pair really seem to be at each others throats recently." Rebekah interrupts. 

"You've only just realized Bekah?" I snapped. 

"No need to snap at me love, come one lets have a drink." She suggests as we walked up to the entrance of the bar.

As we entered the bar I made my way over to Gloria. "Is it possible to have a moment of your time before Niklaus gets you casting spells and what-not?" I ask her. 

Gloria nods with a smile "Of course.” 

"I recently discovered that myself and my sister were from a witch bloodline, however I never felt a connection to magic before I died how was this possible that I didn't have magic and yet my sister did?" I ask her. 

"You could have just been unlucky sweetheart, but your a vampire now so there is no point searching for something that you cannot possess." She tells me. 

"After you have finished doing Niklaus' bidding would you be able to look into something for me? My sister has body jumped over the last four centuries and recently had a child. If she ever came into my care how would I be able to find out of the child has a connection? So when the time is right she can have the correct guidance." I reply. I felt hopeful that if my niece ever needed me that I would be able to help her. 

"Magic in young ones depends, they could show early signs of magic or none at all, my suggestion is that if that the child doesn't show any signs to maybe under the presence of a witch you trust introduce some simple spells. If I'm correct Priston was your surname before you married?" Gloria says to me. 

"Yes that's correct." I tell her nodding. 

"That my dear was a strong and healthy line of witches strange how you never shared our gift." She replies. 

Rebekah joins me and asks for a bottle of bourbon, Gloria complies and hands her the bottle along with two glasses, pouring a shot in each glass I swirl the liquid in the glass. 

"You really are down, Lizzie anything I can do to help?" Rebekah asks placing a hand on my shoulder. 

"Honestly Bekah, if Nik is going to listen to anyone it's you. Elijah should be here with us and I don't think Niklaus understands how much I need him here with me right now. All I know that he is his coffin. Where? I have not the faintest idea. But even if I did know there is no way I could wake him. Not without getting your brothers bad side." I reply to her with tears starting to form in my eyes. I couldn't break down in front of everyone here, I wouldn't want the embarrassment of showing the one person I told that I got stronger see how weak I really was. 

While I was staring off into nothing, Nik had gotten his witch on the task at hand she was sat at one of the tables chanting a spell while Nik had returned to join me and Rebekah at the bar drinking. But after some more bickering any progress surely came to a halt. It was at that moment Stefan had joined us in the bar. 

"You left us." Rebekah tells him. 

"Yeah, sorry. Retail therapy was making my head explode." Stefan says back to her. 

"Tell me about it." Niklaus replies quickly under his breath. Stefan glances at me and then back to Gloria. 

"What is she doing?" He asks. 

"She's failing." Nik replies with a huff. 

"It's hard to find something when you don't have anything to go on." Gloria responds bluntly. 

"So use me. I only wore it for a thousand years." Rebekah says getting up from her seat and walks over to the table where Gloria was sat. So use me. I only wore it for a thousand years.” 

"See? Now this one offers a solution." Gloria replies with a smirk. 

"All right, give me your hand, sweetheart." Gloria adds, Rebekah gives the witch her hand and goes back to her spell. 

"She's, uh, she's looking for the necklace, huh?" Stefan asks us. I nod from the background, finishing my drink I get up from my seat. 

"I have a phone call to make, please refrain from killing anyone brother." I say to him as I leave the bar and walking a few doors down so I could talk in private.

I dialed the number I had for Jacob. "Elizabeth, didn't think I would be hearing from you anytime soon." Jacob said through the phone. 

"Yes well, I wanted to try and get some answers to help care for your daughter." I replied to him, curling a piece of my hair around my finger, a trait I had noticed I had picked up since my adventures with my brother. 

"Would you like to meet her?" He asked. 

"I would love nothing more, I'm currently in Chicago, but I don't think its the best place to meet up, how about I come to you?" I suggest. 

"That would be perfect, I'll text you the address." Jacob says and with that he ends the call. Moments later I get a message of my new destination. I headed back to Gloria's bar to announce that I would be departing sooner then I had anticipated.  

[actuallyspencerreid]

Survivor | part 3

Read : Part 1 , Part 2

Word Count: 1.8k

Tags: @the-unfortunate-fangirl @cynbx @princesswagger15 @obsessivereader36 @hearts-to-the-sky @mantlereid @dreamxcollide @qu3n-elizab3th @hiya-imthatgirl @literallyprentissstwin @bauboywonder @everyday-imfangirling @spencerreidreads @alixcharmedworld @writer-of-camelot @grubler @10kcriminalsatthedisco @extremeobsessions101 @staygoldeea @sarrahgoode @spideysstarks @spence-imagines @hanasonly @mbmrocks

------

“Why does it matter to you what Spencer and I were arguing about?”

The unsub laughed at your firm voice. “Simple. You and Mr. Perfect never argue about anything. Sounds like he thinks you're cheating on him. Are you?”

“Never.” You wanted to cry again, thinking about the fight you’d had with Spencer. “I love Spencer more than anything. I could never hurt him like that.”

“That’s why I love you, (Y/N).” The unsub sighed almost dreamily. “You’re so fiercely loyal.”

“If you love me so much, why am I tied up?”

“Because I have to teach you how to love me back.” The belt came across your legs again and you cried out in pain. “Luckily, I know that you’re a good learner.”

------

“Guys!” Everyone looked up at Penelope from what they were doing. “I put an alert on (Y/N)’s name and face to see if anything came up, anything that could help us find her and this website just went live a few seconds ago. The link was emailed to me anonymously.”

She projected her screen onto the television, showing the team. The background was dark, but they could see a livestream and you were right in the middle. Spencer felt the air leave his body as he took in your unconscious appearance, flashbacks of Tobias Hankel appearing in his mind.

“Wake up!” The unsub yelled at you, smacking you across the face.

“Garcia can you take this down?” Emily’s voice was quiet as they watched you regain consciousness and look directly at the camera.

“Don’t!” Spencer reached out to grab Penelope’s hands before they could do anything. “She knows that we can see her. Look at her face.”

He was right. Your features didn’t show that you were hurt or even scared. They showed a woman determined to get away. Everyone saw as you turned to the unsub, whose face was just out of frame, with an irritated scowl.

“She’s not afraid of him.” JJ’s voice held an admirable tone.

“When my team finds you, I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you never see the light of day again.”

The unsub laughed. “Your team is reckless. They don’t know how to separate their emotions from their work. They make careless mistakes and ignore the law when it’s convenient for them. You’re team has as much a chance as finding me as you do walking out here alive.”

“Sounds like pretty good odds to me.”

Spencer could feel himself shaking, beyond pissed he still couldn’t figure out where you were. “Garcia, can you track where this is streaming from?”

“No the IP address reroutes every fifteen seconds, I can’t pinpoint him.”

The screen went dark, but they could still hear everything.

“Tell me something agent. Would you die for them?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Would you live for them?”

“Yes.”

“What was your fight with Doctor Reid about?”

You hesitated for a second and the BAU could feel an aura of tension. But you weren’t going to let this man get to you. “What is your obsession with my boyfriend?”

The unsub laughed again. “Doctor Spencer Reid is an enigma. For years, I’ve watched as this child has made an ass of everyone who dared speak to him. He looks down on others, thinking that his intelligence made them inferior. For a long time, I thought I hated him, but after a while I figured out that I was in awe of him. Ededict memory, an IQ of 187, can read twenty thousand words per minute. A genius. And yet, in waltz this rookie cop and all that is registered null and void. Around you, Spencer Reid goes from machine to human man, and a dumb one at that. How did you do it?”

Though they would never admit it, the rest of the BAU was slightly curious as well. Spencer did in fact get a little loopy when it came to you and sometimes it confused them.

“I didn’t do anything.” You were confused.

“Don’t lie to me!” Everyone flinched as the unsub yelled. “What did you do to him?”

“I don’t know what your talking about!” Your resolve was breaking. Spencer’s heart broke when you glanced at the camera and he saw the fear in your eyes.

“Maybe this will help.”

Everything moved in slow motion. You appeared on the screen again, belt tied around your arm above your elbow. Spencer immediately recognized the bottle and needle he pulled out of his pocket.

“No!” He screamed, Matt and Luke had to hold him back before he launched himself at the screen as the unsub measured out the Dilaudid.

“You remember this, don’t you sweetheart?” He pushed the needle into your vein and injected you with the narcotic. “Doctor Reid didn’t fare so well against this particular drug. Let’s see how you do.”

The BAU watched as you drifted into unconsciousness and then the camera cut off. Spencer broke, sobbing as Luke and Matt held him up.

“We have to get her out of there.” Penelope wiped her tear stained cheeks. “I have the list of officers who were absent on the day that all three victims were abducted and killed. It’s a pretty decent sized list.”

“And you compared that list to the agents who aren’t here today?”

“Just did. Still fourteen names.”

“Alright. I want every single address of everyone on that list. JJ, Simmons, Rossi, take the first seven. Luke, Lewis and I will take the other seven. Reid, stay here with Garcia in case he starts streaming again.”

“I’m going with you!”

“Absolutely not!” Emily was more firm than anyone had ever heard her before. “You are nowhere near emotionally stable enough for the field. You will stay here with Garcia and that is an order!”

Everyone watched as Spencer and Emily stared each other down. After a moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge and gun. “If she dies and he gets away, I quit.”

Emily gave him a curt nod. “I understand.”

The rest of the team left and Spencer sank into the chair next to Garcia, resting his head on her shoulder. She stroked his hair.

“Come on Boy Wonder. Build a profile. Maybe we can figure out who it is. Save them some time.”

He nodded and sat up, looking over the files on the table. Images and words swam in front of his eyes as he tried to fit all the pieces together. For hours he stayed there, circling the table and moving things around to get a better understanding. Garcia lost count of how many times she refilled their coffee cups. The sun was rising when he finally had an idea.

“We know he works at the FBI, so he’s smart and at least somewhat fit. The torture and stabbing on his previous victims suggest sexual sadism. Garcia, can you hack the IT department?”

“Easy peasy lemon squeezy.” Her hands flew across her keyboard. “What am I looking for?”

“Anyone who has looked into our files or possibly even into our pasts. He’s obsessed with one, if not both of us. He knew when the perfect time to grab her was, so he had to have been watching us.”

“Holy smokes.”

“What is it?”

“Dex Trengrove. He’s got everything you’ve ever written, everything you’ve ever been mentioned in saved on his hard drive. It also looks like he planted a trojan horse on (Y/N)’s work computer and has been recording random pieces of the day. There’s so much footage of her just laughing and filling out paperwork. There’s a clip of her kissing you cheek that he has labled ‘WHY?’”

Spencer called Emily on speaker phone. “Emily, our unsub is number four on your list, Dex Trengrove.”

“That makes sense. He was fired three months ago for hacking NSA. That must have been his trigger. But he wasn’t at his apartment. Does he have any other address on file?”

“Nope. He hasn’t gotten a new job since being fired and both his parents are dead.”

“What happened to his parents house?”

“They lived in a little house in rural Virginia. When they died two years ago, they left it to Dex, but he sold it to -- oh my god.”

“What is it Garcia?”

“He sold it to Harley and Robin Beth. The Beths dropped off the grid right afterwards and no one had heard from them since.”

Tara chimed in. “How much you want to bet, they were his first victims?”

Emily sighed. “Garcia, I need the coordinates for that house.”

“Coming to your phones.”

Just then, there was a ping. “He’s streaming again.”

They turned to the screen as your face appeared right in front of the camera. You were whispering, tears running down your face. “Spencer, if you can hear me, I’m okay. He’s one of the IT guys. I don’t remember his name. I don’t know where I am. Spence, I need you know that I love you. More than anything in this world. If I don’t make it out of here, always remember that I love you. ”

He saw your eyes widen as you heard footsteps. You returned to your chair, slipping your hands into the loosened binds. Dax had another full needle in his hand.

“Please don’t.” You begged, feigning desperation. “I’m fine, really. I don’t need it. Please.”

He chuckled and grabbed your arm anyway. While he was busying himself with the belt, you slipped back out of your binds and wrapped them around his neck.

“Son of a bitch.” You growled in his ear as he struggled against you. You maneuvered your legs around his flailing arms until you were completely wrapped around him.

“Go to sleep. Go to sleep.” You held steady, pulling tighter as he slowly lost consciousness. He dropped to his knees as you heard the sound of approaching sirens.

“Dax Trengrove. FBI!” You sighed in relief as you heard Emily’s voice. She busted through the door followed closely behind Tara and Luke, weapon raised.

“Thank god.” You let yourself cry as you untagged yourself from the man and ran into her arms. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“Let’s get you to a medic.” You nodded and let her lead you away.

------

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.” -Lao Tzu

------

Your body ached as you opened your eyes.

“Where am I?” You groaned, trying to sit up.

“Don’t do that.” You were startled by Spencer’s voice, but immediately comforted when you turned and realized that he was next to you. “You’re at the hospital. You’ve been sleep for the past two days.”

“Have you been here the whole time?” You smirked at his messy hair and scraggly beard. Your nose turned up as he leaned in close. “Yes you have. You smell.”

“There she is,” He pressed his lips to your cheek and you got a whiff of his breath. “I’m going to go tell the team that you’re woke.”

“Brush your teeth while you’re at it!” You called as he walked out the door, laughing.

------

TO BE CONTINUED...

[lfthinkerwrites]

Aftermath

Chapter Title: Aftermath

Fandom: Batman

Rating: PG

Summary: All actions have consequences, positive and negative.

AO3 Link

Perhaps it was lingering memories of the past times he’d interacted with the man, tucked away somewhere deep into his subconscious, but Edward was instantly on the defensive at Batman's query. "I take it you heard about our old friend Tut."

"I know the situation yes," Batman answered. "I'd like to hear the whole story from you first."

As Edward recounted what had occurred over the past two days, he kept an eye on Batman's expression. The vigilante remained impassive behind that cowl of his, not even reacting as Edward threw in a few (In Edward's opinion deserved) jabs at Gordon. Finally, Edward concluded his tale. "...So I successfully apprehended Goodman and rescued Dr. Young. Your presence wasn't required."

Batman's expression didn't change as he seemed to process everything that Edward told him. "I see.” He said finally. “Do you really think that will be the end of it?"

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Goodman's terminal. He'll be dead before he can try anything again and Carson's no threat on her own. What more can they possibly do to me?"

"You need to look at the bigger picture Edward. Goodman and Carson themselves are out of the picture, but there are going to be serious consequences for what you did."

"What I did?" Edward repeated. "What I did? I'm not the one that killed three people and caused chaos in the city!"

"Five," Batman corrected. "Two GCPD officers died in the bombing. Another dozen were injured."

Edward frowned. "That wasn't my fault-"

"I'm not saying that it is," Batman interrupted. "You aren't responsible for what Goodman did, but Bullock isn't going to be the only person in this city who will blame you for it. You can't afford to be making any more enemies by taking the unnecessary risks that you did."

'Any more enemies'. Did Batman know about Strange's interest in him? Even if he did, would he care? "And just what was I supposed to do?" Edward shouted. "Stay hidden away in my office until Goodman came after me? He targeted me! He made it very clear that he wasn't going to stop until I was dead!"

"Tell me: after Goodman attacked you in Zeus' old club, why didn't you go to Gordon with what you knew?"

Edward narrowed his eyes. "Does that cowl block your hearing? I told you, Gordon didn't want me anywhere near this case. If I'd gone to him, he would have kept me away!"

"Maybe he would have," Batman conceded. "But he might have been more willing to work with you on flushing Goodman out if he knew what you did. There would have been no need for Dr. Young to be put in danger."

Edward felt his face flush. "I didn't and I would never willingly-"

"I don't think you intended for to Goodman to target her. But it still happened, because you let your ego get in the way of actually solving the case. That's why Gordon didn't think he'd be able to trust you."

Edward huffed. "I think this latest incident proved that no matter what I do, Gordon will never trust me. So why should I even bother?"

Batman took a step forward and for a moment, Edward tensed up, waiting for the vigilante to strike him. His body often remembered what his mind couldn't. The blow never came though. Instead Batman sighed. "There are a lot of people in Gotham who don't want you to succeed Edward. Gordon's not one of those people. Neither am I."

He sounded genuine, but Edward didn't believe him for a moment. If that was true, he would never have been in a coma in the first place. If that was true, Jonathan would still be-"If you're quite done lecturing me," he drawled, "I've had a long day and I'll have a busy morning. I'm not just a private investigator any more. I'm an actual hero now. Gotham's press corp won't get enough of me."

Batman's eyes narrowed and he stalked off towards the open window. Before he left, he gave one last look at Edward. "It won't just be your name that gets put in the papers Edward. Think about it." Before Edward could say anything in response, Batman was out the window. Edward slammed it shut behind him and stormed off to his bedroom. The absolute nerve of him! Couldn't he let him enjoy just a bit of the well earned success he'd achieved without breaking in to remind him of every mistake he'd ever made? As he flopped down onto his bed, Batman's last words nagged at him. 'Not just his name in the papers...' Well of course, Goodman would be there too, but why would the Dark Knight bring him up? But who else could he have meant-

Edward sat up with a start. Penelope. As Goodman's last victim, she'd be caught up in this too. It would be the second time this year that she'd be connected to him in a big news story. He'd already been fielding questions about her from too many people. Best case scenario, she'd be the target of all sorts of media gossip. Worst case...Edward clenched his fist. Worst case, she'd become a target for anyone of the long list of people who had a score to settle with him. Either way, their ability to work together would be compromised. And he'd promised her...Edward sighed and lay back down. He was too tired for this.

Edward managed to drag himself out of bed and to GCPD at noon. The waiting room was still cordoned off and the area around the bull pen was being swept up. Any other town, Edward would wonder why the building was still even operational. This was Gotham though. GCPD had seen worse the last three months alone. Frankly, the only thing that remotely surprised him was the fact that the tree in the front parking lot was still standing. Edward ignored the glares he received from the police officers as he strolled up the hall towards the Commissioner's office. The glares he was used to.

Gordon's office door was closed when Edward approached it. Not for the first time, he wondered if he'd done the smart thing by coming alone. Edward scoffed. He'd never been intimidated by GCPD before and he'd be damned if he would be now. He knocked on the door briskly. "Come in!" he heard on the other side. Edward swung the door open wide.

In Gordon's office was the man himself, sitting at his desk. He looked up and visibly sighed when he saw who was standing before him. "Come in Nigma," he said. "Shut the door behind you."

Edward did as he asked. "Good afternoon Commissioner!" he chirped, as if he were actually happy to see the man. "You look tired. Long night I take it?"

"Don't you even start," Gordon growled. "Take a seat."

Edward sat in the offered chair in front of Gordon's desk, noticing the bandage wrapped around his head for the first time. He thought about commenting, but decided not to. Gordon would regard anything he said as insincere. He'd be right too. "So," Gordon said, pulling open his desk drawer. "I take it you're here for your phone."

"Well done Commissioner," Edward responded. "Among other things."

Gordon's eyes narrowed as he pulled out Edward's cell phone. He handed it over to Edward's outstretched palm. For a long moment afterwards, the two men sat in silence. Finally, Gordon spoke. "Let's be completely honest," Gordon said in a gruff tone. "Neither of us handled this situation as well as we should have. That being said," he raised his right hand up, cutting off Edward's imminent protest. "Bullock had no right to detain you. I sincerely regret that happened. He's been appropriately disciplined."

Edward raised an eyebrow. This was more than he expected from Gordon, and the thought of Bullock getting even a taste of what he so richly deserved was satisfying. "Well, thank you Commissioner. I appreciate it." He lowered his voice slightly. "I'm sure you'll understand though if I'm a bit hesitant about collaborating with GCPD again anytime soon."

Gordon sighed and nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry to hear that too Nigma. I hope you'll reconsider at some point. Despite how this went, you have done some good work."

Edward suspected that Gordon knew as well as he did that any chance of a working partnership between him and GCPD, remote as it was before, was moving into the realm of impossibility. Still, it didn't hurt to be polite. "Commissioner," he said, tipping his hat. As he turned to leave, he heard Gordon say one last thing.

"By the way, thank you for saving Dr. Young. I really appreciate it."

I didn't do it for you, Edward wanted to bite out. Instead, he walked out the office without another word. As he made his way down the hallway and out into the bullpen, he caught Bullock on the other side of the room, glowering at him. Edward let out a sardonic smirk in his direction. Bullock's face purpled and he looked like he was about to walk over when Montoya caught his arm and whispered something in his ear. Whatever she said must have worked, for Bullock remained still, settling for glaring at Edward as he walked towards the exit. Moron.

Edward was almost out the door when he almost collided with another familiar face. "Edward? What are you doing here?"

Edward was just as surprised to see Penelope as she was to see him. "I could ask you the same question. Don't tell me Gordon has you working today!"

"No," she answered. "I'm here to give my statement about what happened last night."

Of course. Edward had given his to a uniformed officer before Bullock had begun laying into him. "Ah. I was here for a more mundane reason. I had to get my phone back. Cash took it from me last night when Bullock had me detained."

Penelope's gaze darkened a bit when Edward mentioned that. "I see. What are you going to do about that?"

Edward chuckled a bit. "I'm not going to sue the department, if that's what you're asking. But I don't think I'll be working with them anytime soon."

Penelope nodded. "I see. I can't say I'm too surprised by that, to be honest."

"Well," Edward said. "It's a good thing for us that technically, you don't work for GCPD. You're just a consultant. Not that there's anything wrong with that."

Penelope shook her head. "Edward," she said. "I'm still not going to undermine Gordon. Not even after what happened."

Edward's tone grew serious. "And I'll never ask you to. I mean it." Edward wet his lip. "Going forward, I think we should stick to meeting in your office. Wouldn't want to compromise you again. How much time will you be taking off?"

"Just the rest of the week. You can come by my office Monday morning, if you want."

It was already Thursday. Edward blinked. "Not to sound patronizing, but you were just in a life and death situation. Is four days enough time?"

Penelope shrugged. "It's...not the first time I've been in a life and death situation Edward. Not by a long shot. And I don't like to waste time when I could be doing something productive instead. Are you going to take any time off?"

Edward chuckled a bit again. "No, no I'm not. Speaking of which," he looked down at his phone. He had 10 missed calls from the various news reporters in Gotham, not to mention messages from Oswald, Dierdre and Nina. "I should get going. I'll see you on Monday Penelope." He looked up and the look on her face was surprised. "What?"

Penelope shook her head. "I'm sorry, it's just...you've never called me by my first name before."

Edward cocked his head. Had he crossed some boundary and not know it? She referred to him by his first name almost exclusively. "Is it a problem?"

"No!" Penelope said. "No. It's just..different. I'll get used to it."

Edward smiled a bit then. "Alright then. Good bye, Penelope." He walked away from the GCPD building, just as his phone began to ring. "Edward Nigma, Private Investigator."

"Well, look who decided to finally pick up!"

Edward's eyes narrowed. "Hello Ryder," he said. "Run out of tabloid gossip to peddle for the day already?"

"I was wondering if I could get a comment on what exactly happened last night. How did Goodman escape GCPD custody after you caught him? Is it true he had a hostage? And how exactly did you catch him the second time?"

Edward looked behind him. Penelope was long out of sight, probably in Gordon's office now. Edward sighed. She was the one good thing that resulted from his encounters with GCPD. She didn't deserve to be scrutinized by the likes of Ryder. "Well Ryder," he said with bravado. "My comment is this: No Comment. Goodbye Ryder." Edward hung up, contenting himself with the mental image of Ryder's smug face being outraged at being hung up on.

"'No comment.' That was all Edward Nigma had to say today regarding Victor Goodman's final rampage. Although Goodman and his accomplice Leigh Carson are in custody, there are still many unanswered questions surrounding their recent crime spree. How was it that GCPD had no idea what Goodman was planning? Where was his parole officer? Should Goodman have even been released in the first place? Finally, what impact will this event have on Mayor Quincy Sharp's upcoming first term in office? We'll be discussing these topics and more tonight, on the Jack Ryder Show."

"No comment," Gordon said, shaking his head. "Edward Nigma not taking credit? Now I've seen everything. Whatever you said to him last night must have actually humbled him somewhat."

Bruce very much doubted that. "How was he when you saw him today?"

"He acted as smarmy as he usually does, but I could tell he was angry." Gordon sighed. "And for once, I can't say that I blame him. What in God's name was Bullock thinking detaining him? We're lucky Nigma didn't decide to make a fuss about it! We were actually making progress I thought with forming some kind of working relationship with him, but he'll never try to collaborate with us again." Gordon lit his pipe and began to smoke. "It's my fault," he said finally. "I should have either let Nigma work the case with us or done a better job at keeping him away."

"It's not your fault Jim," Bruce said. "Goodman was obsessed with getting revenge on Nigma. He was going to get involved no matter what you did." I should have been here, Bruce thought. Maybe he could have helped contain Edward.

"I know, I know." Gordon took another long drag on his pipe. "I've realized something during this case. All the talk we do about how we want the Rogues to be treated and reformed and what happens when one of them finally does? We have no idea what to do with him. God knows I'll never like Nigma, but sometimes I feel sorry for the bastard. He's not really part of either world in Gotham anymore."

No. No he really wasn't. Apart from Cobblepot and Selina, Edward was almost completely isolated in Gotham. That made him vulnerable, which was probably why Strange had targeted him back in May. His reformation was a tightrope. One false step or sharp shove and he'd be back into the abyss he'd narrowly escaped from. Bruce wouldn't let that happen. "What about Dr. Young?" he asked. "Would he still work with her?"

Gordon paused. "He might," he said carefully. "He did risk his life his life for her after all. He must have some regard for her. I don't like the idea of using her to keep tabs on him though. Poor woman's been through enough. And I don't think that's why you suggested I use her as a consultant either."

No, it wasn't. Edward had been just about the last thing on Bruce's mind when he'd suggested it. But it seemed that decision had led to unforeseen consequences for everyone involved. Bruce just wished he could be sure whether they were positive or negative. One thing he was certain of though. Edward Nigma, reformed he may be, required more supervision.

"This is absolutely disgraceful," Sharp fumed, watching the news coverage. "To be beholden to a vigilante is bad enough, but for GCPD to be shown up by Nigma! It's galling!"

"I agree," Hugo Strange answered. It was disgraceful, but it was also useful. Public confidence in the GCPD was already low enough. Nigma's latest stunt wasn't helping matters. One more incident like this and the public would be clamoring for an alternative. Strange smirked. The so-called Private Investigator was proving to be most useful indeed.

"When I take office, the first thing I'm going to do is demand Gordon's resignation," Sharp said vindictively. "Then I can appoint someone competent!"

"I wouldn't advise that," Strange answered. "Gordon is popular even if GCPD as an institution is not. It wouldn't look good to start off your administration by firing him. It would serve us better to create a situation where he resigns on his own accord."

Sharp's shoulders slumped. "Very well...I'm going to form a commission to examine parole practices then. And demand greater supervision of paroled inmates. If Goodman had been a patient while I was warden, he never would have gotten out! And if that insufferable Edward Nigma thinks he'll be able to do as he pleases in my City, he's in for quite a shock!"

Strange ignored the fool as he continued blustering. He already had policy changes in mind when he finally officially took control of the Asylum.

[ramblings-daily]

Running Undercover // Chapter One

Fandom: Criminal Minds
Words: 3,852
Genre: Drama / Romance
Pairing: Luke Alvez & Penelope Garcia
Author’s Note: the first chapter of my new garvez fanfic is finally up! it’s been a while since i actually posted a fanfic with a storyline! i hope you all like it! please like & comment as they will help with my insipiration! thank you so much for still supporting me even after my long hiatus to close to a year with writing!

. . .

After two grueling months of investigation, the FBI has released a statement on one of the most public cases in the history of the world. Due to insufficient evidence and lack of witnesses, the FBI will drop the case and work on the other cases that are in immediate help. It is not to say that the case that we've all been watching and waiting updates on isn't important but without much can do, the infamous case will take the back burner for a while. For those who don't remember, the bodies of three young children averaging the age of five to eight years ago were found deeply hidden in the woods. With their bodies tucked neatly in a blanket, most people have come up with an assumption that probably a parent has done such a cruel act. Unfortunately, the kids has nothing in common with the exception of their young age. With the public's eyes on this certain case for two months, it must've been a tough decision for the FBI to drop it. This has been Channel 7's Late News, I am your -

"Bobby, please turn that off." Luke Alvez muttered under his breath as he took the glass of his scotch on the rocks, twirling it around. "I don't want to hear that crap."

Bobby, the bartender, sighed as he poured him more scotch. It's roughly 2 in the morning, the time he usually closes up the bar. If it wasn't for Luke sitting here right now, he would say something but this guy is his buddy of 20 years. "Bad day?"

Luke exhaled deeply. "I didn't even want to drop the case." He furrowed his eyebrows together and downed the drink in one go. "Section Chief demanded the team to let go of the case." Sometimes he wonders if people in the higher ups really care for the victims? Especially victims as young as those kids. "And now look at us, we're on the news as a disappointment. People are actually disappointed that we dropped the case. You know what's going to happen, Bobby? The case is going to cold and be forgotton for years. Those kids are going to be forgotten."

"I highly doubt that will happen especially with someone like you still in the FBI." Bobby answers. He decided to not pour anymore drinks for Luke. Knowing his buddy, the guy can only take a few more drinks before he completely goes off the wall. "Come on, go home and take a couple nights of rest." He watched his friend spend almost every second of his days working on this case. When the bodies of the kids were first found, Luke and his team were a mess. It's not like the kids were brutally murdered. They were found laying on the ground as if they were sleeping peacefully. A single gunshot wound in the back of the head. It's a hard scene to watch through the television, he can't even imagine how his best friend reacted being actually there. "I'm sure that once new evidence comes up, your team will be the first one to take care of it."

Luke could already feel a slight buzz. Standing up from the bar stool, Luke closed his eyes and yawned. "Thanks for listening."

Bobby watched as Luke carefully made his way out of the bar. Shaking his head, he grabbed the only glass on the bar counter and turned off the music the resonates throughout the whole building.

. . .

Walking into the corner store, Luke greeted the cashier with a small smile before turning straight to the alcohol section of the store. As soon as his eyes saw the last rack of can beers, he grabbed it and slowly made his way to stand in line.

"It'll be 15 dollars," the cashier said softly as he start bagging the gallon of milk and two bags of candies. As soon as he was done, he watched as the woman in front of him struggle to find cash in her purse. The cashier could only scoff at the sight of her rummaging through the bag. He could tell that she would only have a few bucks on her. "I said it'll be 15 dollars."

"I'm sorry, I swear I have the money." The woman spoke up.

Luke rubbed his eyes as he watched from behind. He could tell that the cashier was getting agitated and the people behind him were actually becoming impatient at how long she's taking at the counter. After waiting for what felt like five minutes, Luke walked up to the counter, placing the rack of canned beers next to the bag of milk and candies. "Add my beer to the total, I'll pay for it."

“I don't need you to be paying for my milk and candies."

“It's okay, it's on me." Luke replied as he placed the cash on the counter. "Keep the change. Have a goodnight, thanks." He walked out of the corner store, heading towards his car when he felt a pair of hands grab his arm.

"I'm not done talking to you!" The woman demanded to be heard as she knit her eyebrows together. "I don't appreciate you paying my stuff. I don't even know you. Do I look like a person that needs a random stranger to pay for my shit?"

Luke didn't even say anything. His eyes glanced at her up and down, the jeans she's wearing looks so worn off from constant years. "I'm sorry if I offended you but I - "

"You did offend me!" She looked at him. "Do you think just because you dress better than me makes you think that you're capable of paying for a gallon of milk?"

He scoffed. "Then pay me back $15."

"Excuse me?"

"If I did offend you so badly, I'll take the $15 back." Luke doesn't have the type of patience to be dealing with her at a time like this. Holding out his hand, he waited for a response. It's obvious that she's taken back at the fact that he asked for the money back. "Before you start acting all high and mighty, make sure that you actually have the money when you buy things." Without another word, he turned around and got into his car.

The woman stared in defeat as the stranger drove away. Clenching the bag tightly in her hands, she huffed and puffed in frustration. Checking the time on her watch, her eyes widened as she hurriedly off across the street.

. . .

Luke blinked his eyes and started at his cellphone ringing endlessly on the table. It's the third time his phone has rung. He doesn't want to pick it up. It may seem childish or even irresponsible of him for not picking up a work call but he honestly doesn't have the energy to work on a new case. He tried to sleep but all he did was toss and turn due to flashbacks of the horrific crime scenes of the young children. How can he get such a scene out? The fact that they were laid on the ground, each with blankets tucked in them. As if the UnSub killed them in a moment of rage but felt immense remorse afterwards.

He adverted his attention over to the sound of someone knocking on his door. "Crap," he can already guess who it is. Luke got up for the couch to open it. "Unit Chief."

Emily Prentiss, the Unit Chief of his particular team, stood there with a frown across her face. "Agent Alvez, I've been calling you."

"I know," he answered with a shrug. "I want to be on leave."

"All of a sudden?" Emily questioned with an eyebrow arch. "After we drop the case that you've been intensely going after?"

"I just thought it was time. I've been working my ass off for more than ten years in the FBI. I barely sleep or eat. It got me thinking that I deserve a break before I start a case that we may not also finish." Luke said as he took a sip of his coffee.

She took that as a grain of salt before setting across from him at his small dining table. "Agent Alvez, there is a reason why I've been calling you all morning."

Luke acted as if he was interested for a second just to amuse her. "I don't want to hear it."

"You might want to with this one," Emily pulled out a case file. "I need you take this case." Sliding it over to him, she checked the time on her watch. "Alone."

"You want me to work on a case alone?" That's a first. "Aren't you afraid my recklessness will destroy any progress of the case? The FBI has told him once before that he could never take upon cases alone due to his heightened emotions. He gets so involved in the cases that he was actually banned from working on cases alone. He always had to have someone working with him or the whole team has to be with him at all time during cases they work on.

Emily sighed. "Well, I couldn't think of anyone else for this position or level of importance of the case."

"What is it?" Luke asked as he opened the case. He looked at the pictures and detailed reports in confusion. "Is this a joke? It's the Woods case."

"It's not a joke, Alvez." Emily said. "We've gotten new information on the case but due to the severe public attention on the case, we had to act as if we'll be dropping the case. When in actuality, we'll work on it in secret. Gives the UnSub almost a sense of relief as if he wouldn't be caught any longer."

"How do you want me to work on this case alone?"

Emily slid over a piece of paper and a pen. "Well, like you said, you work too much. As your Unit Chief, I am demanding you to be in administrated leave from now on."

"Why do I need to be on admin - " he stopped talking once he finally understood why Emily Prentiss went the extra mile to come to his apartment and give him this. "You don't want me to work on this alone. You want me to go undercover."

"I can't think of anyone else but you. I mean, you are the only one in our team with a 99.9% successful rate for solving cases."

“I'm flattered but - "

Emily stood up. "Agent Alvez, this case is more than just the dead kids we found. We think that there are actually more kids in trouble. We think...there's a cult and we have to put an end to it before more innocent kids die." She sighed as she start to be more careful with her next words. "Aside from your excellent percentage with cases, you're also perfect due to your...history with cults."

He nodded his head. Luke didn't need to be extra smart to know what's actually going on. It's not that the FBI trusts me, it'll probably be the end of the world if they finally choose to trust him. It's the past and memories that he has locked away that they want to reopen. He's the only one that could actually go undercover in a cult because...he's been in a cult before.

. . .

"Listen up!" A middle aged man clapped his hands as he stood on the steps with a gentle smile on his face. "Breakfast will be cancelled this morning!" The sounds of people groaning made his eyes sharpened as he looked around the room. "No worries! We will have a nice lunch in a few hours! In the meantime, I want everybody in the meditation room to take a breather. You'll need to gather some energy if you're not going to eat anything for a while!" When nobody started moving, he snapped. "MOVE IT!" As soon as the room cleared, he smiled and walked over to his dearest woman. "Penelope darling, prepare the food in my room. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Penelope smiled and nod her head as she got up from her seat and walked over to the kitchen. Making sure that nobody was around, she opened the fridge to grab the hidden bowl of fruits out. In a nice set up tray, she placed it on there with a bowl of cereal and fresh milk that she got last night.

"I thought we didn't have breakfast."

Startled by the sudden voice, Penelope turned to see Gigi, an eight year old girl, standing by the kitchen doorway. "Gigi, sweetie, you're supposed to be in the meditation room."

Gigi walked over. "Penny, why do you have food?"

"It's not for me, it's for Uncle Jack."

"Why does Uncle Jack get to have breakfast but we don't?"

Penelope glanced over to the meditation room, he's going to be walking out anytime soon. Sighing, she bit her lip. Gigi is definitely at the age to start asking certain questions and she had just wish that it wasn't during this time. "Sweetie, you should go find your mommy, okay? Please go."

"I want some strawberries! We haven't had that in forever! I want some!" Gigi started leaning over to grab one when a sudden sound of someone hitting the wall caused her to jump and shake in fear. She hurriedly behind Penelope, her safe place, when things start getting scary. "I'm sorry!"

"Jack! She was just curious! It's nothing!" Penelope start defending for Gigi when Jackson was making his way over with a stern expression on his face.

"Gigi, go meditate." She didn't need to be told twice. Gigi immediately started running across the room. Jackson glared at Penelope, slamming his hands on the table. "Be faster next time. I don't want anybody to be thinking that I have more privileges than they do." Grabbing her chin and forcibly pulling her closer to him, he looked into her eyes. "Do you understand me?"

Penelope nod her head. "I'm sorry, Jacskson. I'll do better next time."

"You better. Carry that upstairs into my room and go back to the meditation room. I need a smoke." Jackson took out a box of cigarettes and walked over to the back door.

Carrying the tray in her hands, she made her way to the master bedroom. Quietly placing the tray down, Penelope looked around and checked the time. It takes him exactly two minutes to smoke one cigarette. Making her move, she rushed out of the room and looked through the dirty laundry that's in the corner of the living room. As soon as she found the two bags of candy that she had gotten last night, she took out some pieces and carefully made her way to the meditation room. Penelope sighed at the sight of the adults and kids in the room, it's almost over 20 people in this small house. The kids were huddled over at the other end of the room. With the adult's eyes closed, she walked over to the group of kids. "Shhhh..." Penelope muttered as she placed two pieces of candy for each kid.

As she settled next to them to meditate, she watched as the four kids in excitement chew their sugary candy with a small smile on her face.

. . .

Penelope sat in the living room as she fold the clothes that she just finished doing laundry on. With so many people living here, the laundry seems to have tripled. Her eyes adverted over to the closed door of the master bedroom. It's been shut for more than 45 minutes now. Trying to distract her attention, she grabbed another bundle of clothes but paused when she came across an old piece of kid's clothing. Her eyes start welling up as soon as she ran her hands across the handsewn name written on the front of the clothes.

The door opened. Jackson and Lilly walked out with bright smiles on their faces. Penelope could only wince. Lilly's pregnant right now with his child but so is the other 8 women in the house. "Penelope..."

She stopped folding and immediately stood up. "Yeah?"

"Let Lilly sleep in the other bedroom tonight, okay? She'll be giving birth soon so let's give her a room to herself for the night."

"I understand." Penelope turned her attention over to Lilly. "Come on." Making her way over to the only other bedroom in the place, she took out her ring of keys, unlocking the door. "The bed's all set. Have a goodnight, Lilly."

Lilly smiled. "I think he really likes me, Penny! Why else would he give me this bedroom! This room's always locked! But look at me, I get to - "

"I have work to do." Penelope said bitterly. "Let me know if you need anything." She walked back over to the pile of laundry to only get scowl expressions from the other women. "Don't be so upset. Maybe you'll each get the bedroom for a night when your due dates are almost here."

Maria scoffed. "I'm eight and half months into the pregnancy. I'm more due than Lilly is! I deserve to sleep on an actual bed for a night!"

She frowned. That's true, Lilly is only 5 months in. Maria and Sarah are actually the ones that are almost due to give birth. "It's Jackson's decision. I can't do anything."

"It's because she's younger than us." JJ muttered as she walked over with her two kids by her side. "Trust me." JJ has been a part of this family as close as 8 years now. She understands more than anyone else on how the system works. "Lilly's the pretty one right now."

Penelope watched as JJ held onto her oldest kid. "He should be asleep."

"Well, they're hungry and can't sleep." JJ snapped.

"We're all hungry." The women muttered as they rub their pregnant stomachs.

An immense guilt rushed through her. Penelope looked back at Jackson's bedroom. He should be sound asleep at this time right now. "Hold on." Making her way over to the kitchen cabinet, she took out the hidden crackers and canned tunas. As soon as she came back with them, the women and kids became so happy. "Just be quiet as you eat." Turning around, she took out the two bags of candies to give the kids some extra sugar in their systems. "Go ahead."

Everybody grinned so happily as they munched on the food. "Thanks."

JJ fed her kids, taking a bit of some crackers as well. She glanced over at Penelope, who was still folding the laundry. "Aren't you going to eat? I've been watching you all day and you haven't ate anything. Not even the lunch and small dinner we had earlier."

Penelope smiled as she shook her head. "I'm okay, you guys need the food more than I do." She turned to focus on the laundry. Her smile dropped as soon as she could silently hear her stomach growling. Clearing her throat so she could block the sound from the others hearing, she continued folding.

. . .

He never thought that he would actually be back into a situation like this again. Escaping a cult at such an young age, he made a promise to himself that he would never be stupid enough or be involve with anything else like cults. He knows how hard it is to recogonize what cults or what normal cults act or look like. Sometimes when he worked on old cases, if cults are brought up - he is usually removed. To think that the FBI wants him to do this, it's just adds more pressure.

But like people, each cult is different. None are ever the same. Leaders are different, how they handle situations and lead the group of confused people says a lot. Cult leaders always chooses weak minded people because they are easier to brainwash. Maybe that's how his mom got into it the first place, his mom was weak minded and always needed somebody to tell her what to do.

Looking at the ragged clothes he was wearing, he wanted to go against it so badly. The FBI thinks that this certain cult has an involvement with the dead children. Another division, the ones who are actually in charge of cult cases, says that they've kept an eye on the house for a while. But without concrete evidence or illegal doings, they can't do anything. The only thing they said is that they've seen the place take in people who looks as if they need help.

Luke cleared his throat, which is why his clothing looks like the way it is. He's gojng to be a person who can't make both ends meet and struggles to believe in himself. That's his undercover background. He walked up the steps and knocked on the door three times. It'll be simple and easy, anyone will fall for the act.

The door sounds like it's unlocking. With how he solve cases, he'll be here for a week max. He'll get a confession from the UnSub, take down the cult, help out the people inside of this place and finally be able to breathe because the dead children will have justice. This is nothing, he thought. A clean cut case, simple and easy - his eyes widened at the sight of the woman who opened the door. Shit, he thought to himself.

Penelope stared at the man in front of her in disbelief. She knit her eyebrows at how different he looks from the last time she saw him last week. It's as if he's a whole different person. "Can I help you?"

Luke wanted to curse at himself. How could this happen? In a big city like this, what kind of ironic and twist coincidence is this?

"Who's at the door?" A sound echos from faraway. Luke carefully watched as the woman's facial expression tensed up at the sound of the man's voice. That already automatically answers who's in charge of the cult. The mystery man showed up next to the woman, his eyes narrowed as he looked up and down. "Who are you?"

Trying his best to keep composure as he acts as if he never met the woman. Here goes nothing. "Please, I need your help."

[stargleeksil-blog]

Criminal Minds s05e01 “Faceless, Nameless” review - or more aptly named, SOMEBODY KILL GEORGE FOYET ALREADY!

Episode 01- Faceless, Nameless

Oh boy. Okay, I’m beyond excited about this, let’s not waste too much time on superfluous words and let’s get straight to it.

Season five, here we go.

Let’s see what happens.

Well, obviously there’s the ‘previously on Criminal Minds part’.

And I’m eating soup and getting better while watching my babies.

Now let’s see how they help Hotch.

“We’re not working a case. Why call us to a crime scene?”

“I was hoping you knew.”

Oh boy.

“Four hours of sleep after what we went through in Canada, it better be.”

So sleep-deprived Derek is not fun. Good to know.

Wait. So a doctor gets a note saying that if he didn’t relinquish his son to be killed, one person would die every day? Oh my god.

“Where’s Hotch?”

About time someone asked that.

Go looking for him.

So the dad told him the threat is against him, and that he should stay inside as a precaution. Who’s a good daddy? Yes, you are.

And I totally thought it in the way I talk to my puppy XD I’m bad. Well, sick, but same difference.

Wait. So the kid listened in on them? Oh boy. That’s not good.

Wait. Hold up. That’s Zoey’s brother from Zoey 101! Oh my god! Look how he’s grown!!!!! So awesome! And so hot… and I know he’s like four years my junior, so make that really creepy, but whatever.

Wait. Why would the kid go to school even though his dad told him it’s dangerous? A kid literally defying his father, to go to school. Oh god, this is seriously the most weird thing I’ve ever heard of. What kid wants to go to school?

Karl Krauss: “A weak man has doubts before a decision. A strong man has them afterwards.” I slightly disagree, I mean sure, you have to reach a decision, then doubt what’s going to happen if you go through with it, but shouldn’t you calculate all of your options before reaching a decision? I don’t know what went through this Krauss guy’s head.

“You need to go back inside.”

Okay! No need to get yelly.

“Sir, right now nobody is getting your son.”

Wait, what?

“You need to listen right now.”

Okay! I told you, no need to get yelly!

“We can control access in an out. Detective Walker will organize an evacuation as soon as the school day is done.”

Awesome.

“I think he’s just trying to do the right thing. He sees what his father does for a living. This is his way of trying to save lives, too.”

Aw, honey, I love how awesome you are, Derek. But honestly, this is the dumbest thing Jeffrey has done so far.

“Can you get the full medical charts?”

“You know, for a smart boy, you still ask a lot of dumb questions.”

Aw, honey.

I love it when she teases Reid.

“Hey, Garcia.”

“Yes, my love.”

XD

“Has Hotch checked in with you?”

“He’s not with you?”

Whoops. She’s been giving out information without the boss’s okay? Naughty!

Yeah, if you alert the parents and take the kids out now, then the fucker will know they’re onto him and he will start shooting in whichever direction he can point that stupid thing at and cause a riot. And that’s the last thing my babies want.

So hush.

So they’re going to lock every entry point except the front door. Oh boy.

And they need to take Jeffrey out of class to brief him. Oh boy.

Oh my god, I love this class. The principal calls Jeffrey out and everyone’s like ‘ooh he’s in trouble now’ hahaha classy.

Yay! Derek interacting with kids! Well, teenagers, but still, little people XD

“And you’re also gonna have to trust me.”

Easy thing to do, let’s be honest.

“Now, it’s gonna look like I’m just another adult in the hallway with Principal Findlay …”

Um, since when is Shemar Moore ‘just another adult’? That dude can stand in a crowd and I would zero in on him just because he’s so fucking hot.

I love how honest Derek is with him. Damn.

“For starters, we know that he’s male.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Women tend to add adjectives and very specific details to their notes. This has none of those.”

So basically, we’re wordy and more attentive to details, good to know.

“Males are also more direct.”

So my hints at how Shemar makes me cream my panties wasn’t direct? Wait, I wrote hints, never mind.

So it’s a dad who lost his son and he’s trying to make this doctor pay for it? Oh boy.

“Who’s that?” (about Hotch)

“He’s our supervisor. We weren’t supposed to work today. We’re having trouble getting a hold of him.”

Sweetie, why divulge that information to your client? Huh?

Suspicious/vigilant Derek. Hot.

Wait. So Hotch isn’t answering the door, but his phone is ringing from the inside? Whoops.

Not good.

Keys and briefcase still there. Okay.

Big fucking hole in the wall. Shit.

Blood on the carpet. Fuck.

And that’s Hotch’s phone. Double fuck.

“Overtime shift. Penelope speaking.”

Aw cutie.

“Something’s happened to Hotch.”

“What do you mean, something?”

Yeah, you can’t just drop that bomb on my cutie and not expect her to react.

“I don’t know. I’m in his place. He’s not here, but there’s blood.”

“Oh, my god.”

Definitely.

“Do we need an APB?”

I love how she goes technical so she doesn’t have to deal with the emotional level.

And then, fuck.

“Someone took him?”

“Okay, I’m sending an army.”

Hell yes.

“But you cannot tell the others. They cannot be distracted.”

So she’s supposed to lie to hot stuff? Oh boy.

Concerned poodle.

“What could be more important than my son right now?”

Uh, maybe their supervisor is missing and there’s blood in his apartment and he’s like a daddy to all of them?

“Agent Prentiss has been called away on an emergency.”

Well, lovely. Now there’s one less working the case, when the supervisor wasn’t there to begin with. Oh boy.

Wait. The B page in his address book is missing? Oh boy.

Jeez. I came to this show because it didn’t deal with medical shit. Why do this to me?

“The key is to keep Jeffrey isolated and avoid panic with the other students. If we can do that, everybody gets out of here safe.”

I love you, gorgeous.

“Emily.”

“No. Sorry, baby girl, just little old me. You’re out of luck.”

Oh my god, I’m dead.

“Right. Sorry.”

“All right. Be safe.”

Well, that was short.

“Hey. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just tired.”

Nice try.

“Yeah, I hear you. Let’s just get this home safe and we can all sleep.”

Nice save, Penelope.

“Right.”

Crap. She’s calling hospitals to check on Hotch. Oh god.

“What …”

What’s going on?

“When was that?”

I need more information here.

“Okay. Thank you. Oh my god.”

What? Talk to me, baby girl!

“He’s not listed as a patient, but someone dropped a John Doe off at St. Sebastian Hospital, and that someone’s name was FBI Agent Derek Morgan.”

Wait what??

But hot stuff is at the school thing. Right?

RIGHT?!

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“I know. Do you think they got their credentials mixed up.”

FINALLY.

“The Reaper. Foyet took Morgan’s creds.”

“Why would he drop him off at the ER?”

That’s true. It don’t make much sense to me either.

Again with the medical bit. Fuck.

At least he fucking remembers at last.

Wait. So the dad is the dude who got angry because the doctor wouldn’t operate on his dead son? Oh honey.

And by the way, this review is going to be fucking long as hell, just so you know!

Foyet stabbed him nine times but didn’t hit any major arteries? Well, that’s beyond lucky, that’s fucking intentional.

Wait. Why does Hotch’s chart have ‘L.C.” on it too?

“Come on, no pushing. One at a time.”

Oh god, I can’t with Derek directing children. It’s so cute!

LC stands for living children. But I still didn’t get one bit of that last sentence of Emily’s. I don’t get medical. Sorry.

“What if the unsub was trying to tell Dr. Barton that he is actually the target and that he’s gonna leave his son without a father?”

Oh god.

Did he just fucking shoot my poodle?

My poodle protecting the doc even though my poodle is wounded? Oh honey.

My poodle shot the bad guy.

Wow.

If he wasn’t wounded, this would be hot as fuck.

The bullet went clean through. Thank fuck.

“You might have just saved his life.”

So what? You are hurt, poodle!

“I’m good, I’m fine. Go to your son.”

Wait. So now poodle is turning into the hero? What?

So he’s only filling them in now? Damn.

And just so you know, I’m only at the 27:23 time mark, and this is already four pages in Word. I’m so sorry, you guys….

At least Hotch’s finally awake.

Aw, concerned Derek.

“Where am I?”

“The hospital.”

Well thanks, ray of sunshine, for stating the obvious.

“How did I get here?”

“Foyet drove you.”

Well, that’s just a bundle of good news right there.

Sorry, I’m sarcastic as fuck here. Don’t know what came over me.

“What did he take?”

“What do you mean?”

It’s so obvious Rossi still thinks he’s drowsy form the medication dawww

Shit. Foyet knows where Hayley lives now. Fuck.

“Garcia.”

“Right here.”

You betcha.

“I need FBI’s SWAT deployed to Hotch’s hold address. Do it now.”

“Oh god, do you think he’s going after Hayley and Jack?”

Oh god.

“I don’t know. Just send a SWAT team.”

“Consider them there.”

Hells yeah.

“If you don’t see fear, maybe it’s because I’m not afraid of you.”

Oh wow. I’d be shitting my pants if I came across a psycho asshole like Foyet.

“Are you here to kill me, or are you here to play games?”

Oh god, how can he have that fucking poker face while staring at death?

You know, if he wasn’t so psycho, Foyet could actually be a hottie.

Oh god, it’s so awful to think they have to converge on Hotch’s old place to see if they are okay. Oh god.

Oh this girl is good. She was so fucking terrified out of her wits. I love this lady! Oh my god. Hahaha, sorry, I know it’s serious. But I’m thinking of this in the real world where they had to shoot this several times from different angles and she had to be this freaked out every time. Awesome.

At least Jack isn’t in the house. But he needs to be there so they know where he is. Fudge.

Aw, my pretty baby is going to pick up the Hotchners’ pretty baby XD

“They will kill you.”

For you? Of course!

“I don’t want to brag.”

Seriously? Fuck you, Foyet!

Oh god, this asshole seriously gives me the creeps.

One heck of a season premiere episode, guys.

Have I mentioned how much I can’t handle hot people with kids? I have? Well, I’m reiterating this for the hundredth time. Stop forcing me into a premature cardiac arrest.

“They let me turn on the siren!”

You perfect man, you.

Oh my god, four-year-old Jack is the cutest!!

So Jack and Hayley have to go into protective custody now? Oh dear.

Oh god, my heart is breaking at how cute this kid is and how sad this scene is. Oh god.

Does this dude play a marshal agent in every show about cops and feds? Cuz he’s been one in Castle. Just IMDB’d him. Holy shit, he’s really a theatre dude! How did I not know this? Wow.

At least Spencer is fine.

“He’s gonna have to be on crutches for a while, but he said kicking down doors is Morgan’s job, anyway.”

Oh you cutie.

“He was hoping to watch me fall apart, and now he wants to destroy Hotch.”

And you’re not gonna let him, sweetie. Because you’re a tough cookie.

Rossi filling Hotch in on the case is so weird, cuz you know he has a reason for telling him this.

“It was a happy ending.”

Wait. So my poodle getting shot in the leg is a happy ending? Fuck you, Rossi!

“Do you know why I’m telling you this?” KNEW IT!

“No other group in the world could have pulled off what your team did in a matter of hours.”

So true.

“We’ll get Foyet.”

So stop torturing yourself, you dick. Hayley and Jack are safe with the marshal dude, so focus on catching him. Stop it.

 oh my goodness gracious, this episode was rough... and well spaced. They dealt with a regular case, all the while focusing on a matter that wasn’t closed last season with Foyet, and managed to put it all together and Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo we have one of the best episodes yet to open a season. Well, excluding season four because I thought Derek was gonna die and that wasn’t cool. Overall, amazing start to a season, and cannot wait to see how this develops. I’ll see you all next time, to see how they fucking kill Foyet already, because they wouldn’t leave me hanging like this, right? RIGHT?

Again, so humbled by all the likes and follows, guys! It’s seriously amazing to me that you take your time to read this crazy word vomit of mine. <3

[dontshootmespence]

Coercion - Epilogue

@coveofmemories @reiding-and-writing @myxomatosis-s @skeletoresinthebasement @passionate-hedgehog @camigt1999 @eideticenticement @ultrarebelheart @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @mishamgos @matthewgublers @tinyplanet-explorers

P.S. Thank you so much for reading everyone! This fic has been my baby. I think it’s probably been my best so far and I am sad to leave my reader and this fic behind, but I feel it’s run it’s course, and I want to reel you in with something else. I hope you’ve enjoyed as much as I have. Thanks again. :) <3

                                                               ----

In the months following the BAU’s capture of Bentley Ashton and the killing of famed pimp and drug dealer, Rocco Mitchell, you’d made a host of life changes.

“Baby, we’re gonna be late,” you called into your bedroom. 

Nearly a month after catching and killing Rocco, Spencer had asked you to move in with him. “We’ve been through so much,” he’d said. “And I know we still have a way to go, but I want to be by your side while we get there.” Immediately, you’d said yes, feeling more grateful than you ever thought possible for the man at your side.

Spencer stumbled out of your bedroom, shirt half buttoned and still hanging out of his pants. Your alarm had fucked up, leaving you both less than a half hour to get ready to get to work on time. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he laughed, giving you a kiss before running into the kitchen to gulp down a glass of orange juice. “Damn alarm.”

You giggled under your breath, grabbing his hand as you both ran down the stairs to head to work. After a whole lot of reflecting, daily therapy, and conversations with your boyfriend and teammates, you made a choice you never thought you’d make. As you were working toward your goal of joining the BAU, you never imagined you’d want to do anything – and you didn’t, at least not totally. You wanted more. You wanted to advocate. After all you’d been through, it seemed the best way to help others and heal yourself. 

Twenty years after fighting your way up to work with the Bureau day-in and day-out, you downgraded your status to consulting team member, so that you could lend your services whenever you weren’t traveling across the country to speak out – telling your story and advocating for others in your position.

In addition to speaking on behalf of the Department of Justice’s Child Exploitation section, you traveled all over, speaking to downtrodden young women who were still in, or just recently out of the lifestyle that plagued you for that one dark year. Today was a Bureau day, which you were thankful for after your speech for the Rape, Abuse and Incent National Network. 

According to your therapist, speaking at conferences and centers would be extremely painful at first, but you seemed to be healing through divulging your story. Eventually, it would become less painful to talk about, but for now, each time you recounted your story, you felt emotionally and physically exhausted afterwards.

On your way into work, you got a call. Now that you were a known advocate, you got calls constantly to come speak on behalf of a given organization. “Hello,” you said, motioning for Spencer to turn towards the coffee shop. You’d be a couple minutes late, but you in desperate need. “This is Y/N Y/L/N. Can I ask who I’m talking to?”

“Hello, Ms. Y/L/N, this is Sarah M. Buel, director emerita of the National Center on Domestic and Sexual Violence.” 

“Hello, Ms. Buel. How can I help you?” Spencer stepped out of the car, mouthing your normal order and you nodded your head. Through all of this, Spencer had been nothing short of spectacular. Although your advocacy had you away from home frequently, you did your best to make sure you scheduled speeches for when he was away with the Bureau. Even though it was hard, this new schedule of speaking at conferences and working with the Bureau was exactly what you felt you should be doing. For the first time in your life, you truly felt at peace with who you were and what you were doing.

Ms. Buel started off by telling you a bit about the organization, all of which you already knew. When you first started considering your current path, you looked up a plethora of different organizations, including the National Center on Domestic and Sexual Violence. “If you are able,” she continued, her voice soft and calming, “We would love if you could speak at a conference we have coming up in a couple of weeks.” 

While Spencer was grabbing your coffee, and apparently a chocolate-covered rainbow-sprinkle donut for himself, you ironed out the details with Ms. Buel, agreeing to speak at one of their annual conferences in three weeks time. “Thank you, Ms. Buel. I look forward to meeting all of you.”

“Another conference?” Spencer asked, his voice laden with pride as he handed you your coffee.

Softly, you smiled at him, leaning over to kiss him before taking a sip of your coffee. “Yea. This time for the National Center on Domestic and Sexual Violence.”

On the way into work, you sat in silence, pondering how you would start off your speech this time. The words tended to change, but the message was always the same – circumstances don’t define you, how you react to them does. But you were ripped out of your thoughts as soon as you got to work. Spencer parked the car and walked over to your side, pulling it open and extending his hand. When you were on the street, you never imagined having a man show you any respect, no less have one that treated you like a princess – you would be forever grateful.

He pulled you up flush against him and kissed your forehead, saying nothing for a moment. “I know I’ve been saying it a lot lately,” he said, his pink lips forming a smile as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, “But I’m really proud of you.”

As the tears welled up in your eyes, you wondered if there would ever come a time when you wouldn’t cry hearing that. “You have said it lately. This morning in fact. But I’ll never get tired of hearing you say it. I never thought anyone could ever be proud of me again after what I’d gone through, but because of the team and you, mostly you, I do actually believe it  - in my bones, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for it.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said, taking your hand. “I love you.”

You wiped the tears from your eyes and tangled your fingers in his as you went up the elevator. There was no case yet; it was just a regular work day, but after everything, you were thankful for a boring day every now and then.

Nearly nine months earlier, when you’d first gotten into this mess, you never imagined you’d be where you were now. You and JJ had started going to dinner once a week to try and rebuild your friendship, and Will had even started to come along. The only thing he wasn’t comfortable with yet was leaving the boys alone with you, which although hurt, you understood. One day, he would see that loved those kids and this team with all your heart; you could never hurt them.

Morgan had made both you and Penelope Hank’s godmothers. Hotch wished you luck and sent you off with a smile every time you left for a conference. Rossi, who never took a day off for anything, took off along with Spencer to accompany you to your first ever speech, greeting you with open arms afterwards as you sobbed. And Emily and Garcia would be coming to one soon. 

Spencer gave you a kiss and headed to his desk, leaving you to get lost in your thoughts for a moment. You had a mountain of paperwork to get started on, but your impending speech brought on a wave of ideas, so instead, you pulled out a pen and started to write.

I was convinced. My life was over. With parents gone, no source of income, no self-esteem, and one friend, I had nothing left. Every night was fraught with fear, wondering if that particular client would kill me, give me an STD that would kill me down the road. Every night was fraught with pain – bones were broken, legs shaking in agony from the assault I endured. Every night was fraught with thoughts of ending it all. And then one night, a friend was murdered in front of eyes, because she offered to take a client for me. That night I attempted to talk my own life, escape it all, see my parents and friend again, but for some reason I woke up. I still don’t understand why I did. But when I did, I took it as a sign that I was meant to do something, so I stood up and I ran as hard as I could, leaving my past behind and becoming someone new.

For 20 years, I worked to become a member of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. I begged on street corners, I obtained two jobs, paid my way through school with the help of a few grants for which I applied, and eventually earned my dream job. Then again, my life was turned upside down and when someone came out of the shadows with knowledge of my past. I won’t go into the dirty details of that particular case, but it ended well. The man who blackmailed me is now in prison and my former pimp, Rocco Mitchell, is dead, never to hurt another young woman like myself.

What I mean to say by telling my story is this. If you’ve lost hope, I’ve been you. If you feel like you can no longer go on, I understand. But there is hope, you are not alone, and you don’t have to suffer by yourself.

A common question I get asked is how my past affects my life now. ‘Do you still feel tainted by your past? Does the self-doubt come creeping back? Do you feel deserving of all you’ve achieved?  Do you feel that your past dictates everything you are now?’ And after months of daily therapy, conversations with people who I’ve come to love and who love me, and many, many years of asking myself these same questions, I can give you some answers. Do I feel tainted by my past? Sometimes yes. Sometimes I feel that I got where I am because of my past rather than in spite of it, but then I remember my boss would never hire someone out of pity. If he hired me, it was because I earned it. Does the self-doubt come creeping back? Every damn day, and I’m pretty sure it always will. Back then, I’d allow it to overtake me, because I didn’t believe that I had anything or anyone else, but now, I give myself a few moments of pity, and then ask my boyfriend to remind me how far I’ve come. Do I feel deserving of all I’ve achieved? The answer there is yes. I have worked, begged, and scraped for what I have, but I earned it – and I’m proud. And finally, do I feel that my past dictates who I am now? No. I don’t make decisions because of my past. I make them based on who I am now. I may have a past, but my past does not define me, and it doesn’t need to define you either.

The National Center on Domestic and Sexual Abuse is here for you, in any capacity you may need. Remember, you do not have to suffer anymore. I am with you. My name is Kayla Connors. My name is Sierra Cheverie. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I am my past, present and future. I am not alone and I have not let my past define who I am. You don’t have to either.

Thank you. 

As you set your pen down, you looked around at the smiling faces of your colleagues, feeling like you fit in somewhere for the first time in 20 years. Nothing was perfect. But you never expected perfect. All you ever wanted was a group of people to call your own and a path carved just by you and for you. 

And now you had it.

[theonewithwaytoomanyfandoms]

My First Fic Ever!

Well guys, here it is! My first foray into the fanfiction world, in response to a prompt by the lovely @marilita , who requested Rosvolio talking about books in some capacity. I hope that this is what you were looking for my friend!

          With all of the madness about in Verona as of late, it occurred to Rosaline, newly lady of House Capulet, that there was nothing better to escape the rabble than the pages of her favorite books.  Rosaline had been an avid reader since she was a child, as her parents had raised her to be a lady of Verona and thus educated her as such.  Even after her father had been killed and her mother dead of grief shortly afterward, Rosaline kept on reading.  She was the first to admit that books had a world of their own in order to escape the worst times in her life.  This week was no exception.  Therefore while the rest of House Capulet seemed to be in utter chaos, Rosaline slipped away from her (Juliet’s actually, and didn’t that just shake her to the core) room and found a quiet garden fountain just away from the city center to settle down and continue reading.

        Today she had chosen an epic Greek tale to take on her respite.  Homer’s Odyssey drew Rosaline in with its mythical creatures and gods and goddesses.  Yet the thing that intrigued Rosaline the most was Odysseus’ determination to get back to his wife, even after many years of delayed travel.  She was nearly done with this epic tale, but was waiting on tenterhooks to see if fair Penelope would recognize Odysseus as her husband after he slayed all of the greedy suitors around his wife. She could not help but to compare the couple’s situation to her own, even if they were nothing alike.  She wished for a love as strong as Odysseus’ and Penelope’s, and silently scoffed at herself for ever thinking that this would happen in her present situation.

        Maybe if Escalus- I mean the Prince-had declared his love before a week ago, I could have a love that strong. Rosaline thought in vain. Yet, after Escalus had showed his true intentions and motivations toward her the morning after the royal dinner, she had very little faith left in him.  Which left her to think of the other man that had come bursting into her life, Benvolio Montague.

       Benvolio was harder to sort out.  Rosaline hated the man, of course, as he was a Montague and the Montagues were unforgivable after what they had done to tear their family apart after her parents died. Although she supposed she really only had Lady Capulet to blame for her and Livia’s fallen status.  Animosity of the Montagues still ran strong however, making her less than benevolent toward Benvolio at best.  He was not as notoriously rash as Mercutio and Romeo had been, yet he still had a reputation for being a noble Montague cad. Yet he seemed much more open to their proposed union than she had ever been.  Just a couple of nights before at the royal dinner, he had approached her and seemed to be almost resigned to the task of a life together, while she had blatantly denied any agreement on her part before Escalus had betrayed her.

     "I know some things about you,” Benvolio had said to her. “Not enough to build a life together, but we’ll get there.” 

     From this alone, Rosaline felt a bit ashamed that she was not as willing as he to compromise and save Verona from bloodshed. He had lost nearly everyone he had ever loved, and yet was still willing to be loyal to their betrothal.  Could he be the Odysseus in her life, always fighting for her protection? And if so, could she be his Penelope, willing to wait while he gave himself in service of House Montague and Verona?

      She was pulled quite suddenly out of her musings about the current state of her life and the Odyssey by the man she had been contemplating so diligently for the past hour.

     "Well look who it is! I cannot imagine anyone I would be less likely to find around here than you, Lady Rosaline, yet here we are,” Benvolio smiled, that twinkle in his eye irritating her as he seemed to know something that she did not. 

      "And

why, pray tell my lord, should I not be here?” she answered, wanting to take back everything she had said in her mind about his maturity, for he could not even start a conversation with her without making some sort of stab at banter.

     "My lady, the fountain you are sitting at is on the outskirts of Montague property.  Mind you, you probably won’t be faulted for it, but it is rather odd to see anyone remotely near Capulet blood here. Actually, you would probably not find any Montague here either. Except for me.”

     "Is that so?” she retaliated. “Do you often find yourself lost on your own family’s property?”

     "No, my lady. This is where I came to think after the sickness took my mother and father both,” he said, growing more somber and open by the second.

     "Oh. Oh my. I am sorry, my lord, I should have never-…”

     "It is alright, Rosaline, really. As my betrothed, you are more than welcome to do anything you wish here.  If anyone attempts to bother you about it, have them take it up with me.  Although like I said before, you really should not encounter anyone else here disturbing you with your books, your- what are you reading, anyway?”

     Rosaline was touched that he would share his most private corner of his family’s property with her.  It was obvious that he still greatly disliked her, but he was giving her the benefit his betrothal and allowing her the status of a Montague bride-to-be.  She was so overwhelmed that she forgot to answer Benvolio’s query, only answering when she was startled out of her thoughts by his questioning gaze, one that had been on her face far too long.

      "Oh!

It is the Odyssey. I know men such as you most likely prefer the Iliad, with its account of the war and all that, but I quite like the adventure that Odysseus and his crew brings.” She smiled thinking of all the travels the poem had taken her on in her imagination.

      She

looked back up from her contemplation to see him smiling. “Actually, my dear beloved, the Odyssey is quite my preferred choice when it comes to Homer’s epic poems.  As silly as it sounds, I quite like the idea of Odysseus’ strength coming from a place to call home.”

     "You mean in Penelope? Oh yes, I completely agree! The way that they are devoted to each other even throughout the hardest of separations, fully even gaining the gods’ favor to be reunited, why it is absolutely incredible! I can only wish-!” Here she broke off, for he was truly smiling now, and it was radiant. She flushed with embarrassment.  She always became too giddy when speaking about her favorite literature, and now she had gone off about one of her favorite stories, tearing down her walls to her loathed fiancé himself. Yet he did not seem to belittle her for her strong opinions on the literature, but was rather encouraging and open himself. He was the one who shared a deeper opinion of the story first, after all.

     "Perhaps, if you are agreeable to these types of stories, my lady, I could lend you some of my own? I know not of the stock the Capulet library has, but I do know the Montague library like the back of my hand, and I could find some epic adventures for us to discuss further. A starting point for our life together, if you will? Literature is the cornerstone of all intelligent discussion, after all. What say you, Rosaline?” he grinned.

     Rosaline was fully cheery herself once again, something that she never thought would happen in this man’s presence. “Yes, Benvolio. I would like that very much. Thank you, truly, for thinking of me. I know this is difficult for the both of us. But perhaps literature really can be our starting point, as you say? At least we know it is something you can be civil about,” she bit at the end.

     "Just as I thought we were getting somewhere!” Benvolio joked. “But yes, my lady, I shall see what books I can find for us. Shall we meet here again in two days’ time to read together? I am sure your family would not object to you spending time with your betrothed, even though we do not intend for this to be a courtship.  Call it a reprieve from the madness together, if you will.”

     "I think we can both agree we need that, my lord,” Rosaline said.  This was not the end of their dislike for each other that was for certain.  But it was a good start on what would hopefully lead to a successful society marriage. And if Rosaline was lucky, perhaps even a friendship. 

     Although, life plans certainly never did pan out the way Rosaline wanted them to.

[fell-in-love-didnt-you]

Choose Me (Part 1): SnowBaz FanFic

This is a ‘what if Baz and Simon switched roles’ AU. Kind of. Also, this is only Part 1.

I’m walking back up to the room, and I can smell his soap from down the hall. It’s all cedar wood-like and candle smelling. I’m not annoyed by it, per say. It just gets annoying because it distracts me and makes me feel like I might pass out. However, that may be his endgame.

Mage’s Heir or not, he would kill me either way. I mean, roommates changes nothing between us. I’m a shy Grimm-Pitch who would rather play the violin in a secluded place than carry out the Families’ plan. Hurting Simon isn’t something on my radar. And he’s so liked and popular, so he hardly has time for people in the corner like me.

So yeah, I can smell his perfume-like soap from two flights down. It gets quite cloudy in our room from time to time when he takes his long showers. I thought I took long showers until I met Simon Snow.  Hell, I thought I had strong soap until I met Simon Snow.

I open the door to our room, and his best friend, Penelope Bunce, is sprawled across his bed. I give her a small nod of my head as I drop my bag on my bed and collapse. Today was long, and I can hardly muster the courage to ask what his best girl friend is doing in our room. Girls aren’t even supposed to have access to the boy’s dormitories. It’s some strange ward or spell, and it works the opposite way, too.

I hear the shower water stop, and I didn’t realize it was running when I came in. I look over at Penny and ask, “Is this a regular thing now?”

“Is what a regular thing?” she replies. Her bright red hair is mashed against the covers. I think it was some hair-dye spell that went wrong or something like that.

“You waiting for Simon while he showers and then whisking him away afterwards.”

She smirks. “And you hate that I whisk him away?”

I sit staring at her for a second with an expression that must resemble “What the actual fuck, Bunce?” because she laughs at me.

“Don’t get your panties in a wad, Basilton.” I sneer at that, and just laughs more. “It was a rhetorical question. I didn’t expect you to get worked up.”

I make a noise that resembles “hurumph”, and the bathroom door clicks open. Both of us look over, and there’s Simon Snow standing in the doorway, no shirt on and water dripping from his drying hair. It’s already curling at the ends, and I look away. I hear him walk over in front of his dresser and the sounds of clothing being thrown about.

“Ready to go, Simon?” Penelope asks. I assume he just nodded because when I look over, Bunce is out of the room and it’s just Simon and me. Before ducking out of the door, he gives me a small wink. I feel myself blushing and turn over on my bed, hearing the door shut quietly behind me.

Damn Simon Snow and everything he does.

“I don’t know, Simon. He did look kind of bashful when I asked him about the whisking you away.”

Penny’s just trying to be comforting. I might’ve asked for it, but I really wish Baz was more upfront. About…everything. I’ve been throwing around subtle hints that I like him for literal years, but he just doesn’t seem to get it. Maybe it’s a Mage’s Heir thing or something. Maybe they’re all as oblivious as the dinosaurs were about the asteroid that killed them.

Maybe he doesn’t feel the same way.

We’re sitting on the Lawn, watching first years throw spells and hexes at one another. They barely go anywhere, though. I can sort of remember my first year at Watford. It was a lot of information being thrown at my face at once. Mage’s Heir is my roommate. World of Mages. Magic. My obvious homosexuality. All of which I denied the first summer I spent away from here.

“Simon.” Penny’s saying my name, and it sounds like she’s been saying it a few times. I wake from my small trance and look over at her.

“Did I miss something?”

She smiles at me and says, “Agatha and her clan are coming across the Great Lawn.” I look over and see Agatha Wellbelove and a bunch of the Watford football players, my teammates, strolling on over. A part of me wants to talk to them, and a part of me doesn’t. They’re nice enough, but I may as well be a plastic cup on a shelf of glass wine glasses.

An obvious liar in a room of truth tellers.

“Hi Simon!” Agatha yells over. I hear Penny groan under her breath. She stands and brushes the grass off of her knees.

“That’s my cue to leave. See you for dinner.” She turns on her heel to the girls’ dormitories.

The Agatha Crowd reaches me and sits in a circle. Not around me. That would be weird. But I hate it when they circle. It’s almost like you can’t leave. Agatha speaks first.

“Simon, is she your girlfriend or what?” I’m the plastic cup again.

“No, Agatha. She’s got a boyfriend over in America. Plus, I wouldn’t necessarily go for her type anyways.”

“Smarter than you?” Brett asks. Brett plays goalie, and he’s actually pretty good. But he’s got nothing going on up in his head. Maybe that’s why Agatha’s so attracted to him.

“No,” Raymond, another player, says. “Smarter and prettier.” Maybe Raymond’s got a thing for Penny. For a while, I assumed he’d go for one of Agatha’s friend, like Macy or Claudia, but when they threw obvious passes at him for things like dating or sex, he’d declined immediately. Politely, but immediately.

“You got a thing for Penelope?” a girl named Samantha asks. Samantha’s an exchange student from America, and she’s got this really long, brown hair and deep-set blue eyes. She also has an obvious crush on Brett, and I think Brett knows, but I also think he’s trying to be nice. Samantha is really nice and all, but I wish she didn’t hang around with people like this. She belongs in a crowd that gives a shit.

“Depends on who’s asking,” Raymond replies. He rubs a hand along his shaved hair. I don’t know why he keeps it that way. Don’t get me wrong, it looks good, but if he let it grow, it would be nice dark brown to match his eyes.

“What if it’s Penny?” Brett asks. He’s the one I tolerate the least. He’s got blonde hair that falls in front of his green eyes, but his looks don’t match what’s inside. He’d turn on you for a good gossip story in a heartbeat. It was always best to stay on his great-side.

I want to excuse myself from the circle when Agatha looks over at me. She’s the only one who knows, and it was an accident that she found out.

She’d liked me all the way back in the first two years of school, and I’d tried to like her back so much. It was impossible, though. Every time I’d tried to picture myself dating her and holding hands with her and kissing her, it’d eventually turn into Baz.

So I finally snapped in third year.

“I don’t understand, Simon!” she yelled at me in an empty classroom. “I’m not a bad person, am I? Have I wronged you? Why don’t you like me?”

“I just don’t!” I had replied. She didn’t take that too well.

“Well who is it?” she had demanded, throwing her hands down on the empty desks. “Claudia? Samantha? I swear, if it’s Penny- “

“It’s Baz, okay?” I hadn’t realized what I’d said until I saw her face go white. I immediately swooped over to her and clamped my hands on her shoulders, lowering my voice. “You cannot tell a single soul, living, dead, or in between.”

She nodded numbly and gulped. I apologized for yelling at her and practically sprinted out of the building and into our tower.

And we only talked about it once since then. So looking across at her, I knew she is trying to get the Homosexual Trail off of me, but it still hurts. Pretending. Lying. Trying to convince everyone that there is simply no one at Watford for me.

How wrong that was. There was someone, someone I like so much that I’d put my whole life right on the line to be with him. And I’m pretty sure he only sees me as a jock who kicks a ball. That is what I seem like. I’m definitely not the smartest, and I’m not the best player, but I attract the attention of a few too many people at Watford. It’s not even like that goes to my head. I just don’t like the stereotype.

Oh, Basilton, I think, if only you knew the truth.

I’m sitting in the bay window, which looks over the Wavering Wood. I go to this place in our room to think. It’s the only place where I can shut a curtain behind me and feel like I have a space of my own. I’m pretty sure Simon only comes over here to open the window over the night, which is sort of annoying. After almost eight years with him, however, it’s just a regular thing for me to use two extra blankets.

I look at the sun dipping to the other side of the world, and I know that I have to pull back the curtain and go to dinner. I’m not even hungry, but I take my bag so I can have a change of scenery and do some homework.

The smell in the dining hall is basically everything that tastes good together. And it’s not a bad smell either. It’s just everything. I can smell pastries, turkey, fruits, and baked potatoes. It can make my mouth water from just thinking about it.

I find a seat at a table far from the entrance and pull out my History of Magic homework. Quite a boring subject, but the setting makes it go by faster. Before I know what’s happened, I’m looking at my watch and it is quarter to eleven. I push my things into my bag and walk out of the dining hall, the fresh air hitting me in the face like a wad of papers.

The walk to Mummer’s House isn’t a long one, and across the Great Lawn, I see random students bent over notes and textbooks, though it is a Friday. There are no time restrictions on weekends, so most of the students do their studying then so they can be together. It’s a good system, really, but for people like me who have no real friends, it gets quite depressing.

And before I set foot onto the stone floors of Mummer’s House, I smell cedar wood. Great, I think. Simon’s about to stink up the whole building. It’s not a stink so much as a smell. It’s just annoying after eight years. It makes my head clog up and sleep become impossible.

I ascend the stairs and make my way to our door, saying the opening incantation. I see Simon’s outline on his bed, star-fishing and asleep. He has moles that cover his body, and I smile to myself a little. The moonlight illuminates him perfectly, and if I had all the time in the world for him to be asleep, I’d sketch him millions upon millions of times.

I set my bag next to my bed and lay down, staring up at the ceiling. I hear sheets ruffling, and I look over. Simon’s laying face up, and his eyes are open. They dart over to me, and he smiles. He looks younger when his face is relaxed.

“I heard you come in,” he mumbles sleepily. He yawns and closes his eyes, but I know he’s still awake.

“Sorry about that,” I reply, looking back to the ceiling. It’s almost annoying to look at how his hair falls perfectly in their bronze ringlets over his forehead and the way his moles just add character to the mystery that is Simon Snow.

“Baz?” Simon asks. His voice is barely over a whisper, and if I hadn’t seen him awake a second before, I would’ve guessed that he was sleep talking.  It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Yes?” I reply, looking over at him. He’s just smiling in one corner of his mouth and looking over at me fondly.

“Nothing. I just wanted to hear your voice again.” A few seconds later, I hear a soft nuzzling sound, and I know he’s fallen asleep. I’m blushing a lot, and I smile up at the ceiling, glad that it’s dark and he’s asleep.

But then again, why am I blushing? No, nothing’s changed. Simon Snow is still the boy that I’ve lived with for almost eight years now. He’s still the guy who has had plenty of opportunities to date girls but turns down every offer. He’s still the guy who the Families want me to kill. He’s still the guy who wears square glasses and somehow pulls it off without looking like a douchebag.

He’s still such a mystery to me.

[spcncershybrid]

Their the One

GIF IS NOT MINE!

Spencer Reid X Witch!Reader

Luke Alvez X Reader (Platonic)

(Summary: When a series of “witches” start dying in your hometown. You and the team try to solve it while keeping your secret under wraps.)

Word Count: 2.5K (i went off)

Warning: Swearing but like one word and crappy google translate Latin.

You walk towards the elevator seeing Luke holding it open. "Are you ever going to tell him?" He questions as you step into the elevator. "That is a secret that stays with us, Alvez. No one can know." You say sternly staring at him. "Look they might suspect something. From friend to friend, you need to tell him Y/N. Or someone might get the wrong impression." Luke says swaying back and forth. "Wrong impression how?" You question turning towards him. "They might think...you know." Luke says scratching the back of his head. "No Luke I don't. But whatever you do, this incident stays between us." You say stepping out of the elevator heading to your desk, Luke following. "My lovely little birdies don't get too comfortable. We have a case and it's a bad one." Garcia says walking up to us. Luke glances at you as he puts his stuff down in his respected place. "This isn't over." You say pointing towards Luke. He raises his hands feigning defense. "Shall we?" He says as we start walking towards the conference room. You spot your boyfriend Spencer and give him a peck on the cheek. "Missed you earlier." You say sitting next to him. "Sorry I was the first one Garcia called." He says sheepishly looking down at the file. "We are all headed to Salem, Massachusetts." Garcia says as she flips through the images on the screen. Oh my.

"These four women were found dead dressed in similar fashion to then the obvious witch trials." Garcia says. You gulp down the lump in your throat. "My guess would be the unsub thinks these women are direct descendants of the women killed back then." Tara says adjusting herself in her seat. You purse your lips together looking at the crime photos. Luke sighs softly as you glance over towards him. The glance doesn't go unnoticed by the room full of profilers. "These women were all killed in the span of a week from when they were abducted." Hotch says reviewing the photos. "So he abducts his victims and keeps them hostage for 3-4 days then kills them why?" Spencer says. "Maybe he believes he's found justice you know the ideas and beliefs behind witches." You say aloud to the team. "He could be living in a delusion that he is a witch hunter and these women are witches." You continue. "What were there C.O.D's?" Luke asks Hotch. "There were ligature marks found on the neck and ankles of the first two victims. The last two were stripped and found in water." Garcia says.  "Our latest victim Jeana Morris was found this morning our unsub can have his potential next victim. Wheels up in 30." Hotch says standing heading to grab his go bag. You stay and collect your thoughts as everyone leaves. "You okay?" Spencer says walking up to you. "Yeah Spence... this case just hits close to home. My family believes in witches but this unsub is on a whole other level." You say smiling softly at him. "I'll save you a seat next to me on the jet. JJ hogged up all of our talk between case time." Spencer says smiling heading out to the bullpen. You start collecting your things. "You okay with this?" You jump slightly hearing a voice come from the doorway. "No. I knew these women, Luke. We went to school together. Juliet told me last week to watch out and now she's dead." You admit to Luke. "Were they apart of your circle?" Luke says questioningly. "You mean my coven. No um our families do the do's individually but we talk amongst each other on the things we cast, say, or write." You say shoving your stuff in your bag and head out with Luke. You catch JJ's gaze over towards the both of you. You quickly look away continuing your conversation with Luke. "They each were powerful enough to stop him. I wonder what happened. Oh gosh what am I going to say to her parents." You exclaim towards Luke. "Nothing Hotch can't know you know the families that'll be a disaster." Luke says grabbing his go bag as we reach his desk. You sigh heavily grabbing your bag and head towards the elevator with the team and onto the jet.

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The team talks amongst themselves about the case wondering what the unsub's stressors are. You glance out the window getting lost at the scenery not even focusing on the words exchanged by the team. You feel a large hand on your knee pressing in a comforting manner. "Hey." Spencer's voice snaps you out of your trance. He smiles softly rubbing your leg. "Hey." You sigh. "What's the deal with Luke you seemed tense when you guys were talking earlier before we left." He whispers glancing over to the team to see if they're looking. "This case hits close Spence. My family knew the victims families we all weren't close but it still is sad as they're near my age and from my town." You admit to Spencer only slightly lying. "When we land Luke, Y/N, JJ head to the crime scenes. Reid, you and Dave head to the M.E. Lewis and I will set up at the police station. Is that clear?" Hotch states as we all nod in unison towards him.

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Luke, JJ and you head towards the first crime scene. JJ takes the lead as you stay trudging behind with Luke. We examine the scene in front of us. "Poor Jean." You say as your stomach flips. "What?" JJ says turning back to you. "Nothing. The victim reminds me of my old friend named Jean. They look similar, they have the same hair and eye color, just different skin tones." You say quickly to JJ. She looks at your facial expressions and hums turning her attention back onto the body. You crouch down to the body and whisper "ostende vision." You shut your eyes as images of her death and blurry faces flash through your head like a movie. You open your eyes standing up nearly passing out. Just in that moment Luke's phone rings. "Yes Rossi. Okay we'll check now." Luke says moving his phone away from his ear. "Y/N check if she has a tattoo on her wrist. A crescent moon with a four pointed star." Luke says staring at the body. You crouch down and grab Jeana's wrist although you already knew the answer as you had the same tattoo. "Yep why do the other victims have it." You say to Luke as he nods in conformation. "Yes Rossi they do. I'll send the picture to Garcia." Luke say's into the phone before snapping a picture of Jeana's tattoos and sends it to Penelope. Luke pulls you to the side. "You have one too right?" He says. You nod slowly. This can't be good.

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We just finished giving the profile but Garcia is narrowing it down to find our unsub. You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You pull it out to see 'Magic computer woman' aka Garcia. "Yes Pen. Hold on I'm putting you on speaker." You say bringing the phone forward for everyone to hear. "Okay Sir with the info you have oh so blessed me with I was able to come up with our guy." Penelope says. "Mr. Wes Barber. Born and raised in Salem, Massachusetts went to high school with our precious Agent Y/L/N. His mother died when he was ten, when he went to give a statement on his mother's death- oh dear this is awful. He said he saw flames emerge from her feet and swore he saw an older woman do it saying some phrase in Latin. He never disclosed her name though. Afterwards he was in and out of foster homes due to reckless and violent behavior. Once he turned 18 he moved to LA and slowly made his way back to this town. He mentioned to his therapist 'Wanting to get revenge on the people who wronged him'." Garcia says. Wes is behind this. Oh gosh that means you're probably next. "Garcia, what is his connection to the victims." Hotch says. "High school mostly. Jeez I wouldn't want to cross this guy. I'm sending his work and home address now as well as an abandoned warehouse under his name. Go get our guy." Garcia says hanging up. "Y/L/N, Reid, and Alvez you go take the house. JJ and Lewis work address. Rossi and I take the warehouse." Hotch says as we all start moving out putting on our vests. Luke goes into the driver's seat immediately as Reid hops in the back with you. 

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We make it to the house and step out drawing our guns. You head towards the back as Reid follows Luke. They walk towards the front door. "Wes Barber! FBI!" You hear Luke say as he pounds on the door. No noise is heard as Luke kicks in the door. You enter the house through the back door. "Hello witch." An unknown voice says. You whip your head to the voice. Wes... "Excuse me?" You question not trying to give into his game easily. "I know your bloodline it's infested with evil witches who killed my mother!" He yells. "Jeana got what she deserved. They all did." He spat angrily. "Look buddy I had nothing to do with it." You say stunned at his words. "Liar!" He says reaching into his pocket and pulls out his gun. "Wes Barber put down your weapon." Spencer says standing next to you with his weapon drawn. "No they need to feel my pain. Remember the river Y/N. Huh? You and your little friends used to go there and perform all sorts of stuff." Wes says twirling the gun in his hand. You grit your teeth at his words. Spencer steps in front of you in a protective manner. "You brung back a mini bird with her. You moved twigs with your mind." Wes says directed heavily at you. "Does your team ever know?" He asks. "What is he talking about?" Spencer whispers. "Wes don't you dare involve my team. What happened was in the past." You say stepping towards him. Luke enters the room with his gun pointed towards Wes. "I want them to know I'm not crazy come clean and I'll confess my wrongdoings Agent Y/L/N. '' Wes says. "I will put my gun away Wes what do you want to see?" Spencer asks as he holstered his gun. "The use of her powers in the flesh. Pyromancy and Telekinesis." Wes says staring at you intensely. "Wes you are living in a delusion. Witches aren't real." Spencer says. You look over to Luke taking in his expression. Anger mixed with sadness. "She knows what I mean. Raise up her sleeve, she's one of them. She has their marking." Wes says. You look towards the floor stunned. You take a deep breath. "If I show you, you'll drop your weapon." You say stepping towards him. "I promise." Wes says stepping back unloading his gun. Spencer and Luke immediately step forward, going to arrest him. "Wait." You say as the boys look over at you like you've grown multiple heads. You look over to Wes' unlit fireplace. "Ignem." You say focusing your energies on the fireplace as it lit up immediately. "D-did you?" Spencer stutters whipping his head towards you. You nod uncomfortably. "Again." Wes says smiling wickedly, obviously enjoying the situation. "Ignis pila." You say flattening your hand as a fireball emerges from it. You flip it over making it disappear immediately. Spencer looks over at you shocked but mainly sympathetic towards the whole situation. "Now telekinesis." Wes says, stepping forward, smirking. "Gladly." You say mirroring his expression. "Motus." You say pushing your hands forward sending him flying into the wall. Luke and Spencer flinch stepping backwards drastically. You grab your handcuffs walking towards Wes. "Next time you decide to make me use my magic in front of my boyfriend and friend it'll be to snap your neck. As for sending you into a wall, that was for Jeana, Alice, Octavia and Juliet. My best friends who you killed for your sick and twisted fantasy." You say cuffing him and pull him up to face you. "I'm actually thankful they burned your mother. She was a sick bitch anyway." You say walking him outside towards the cops that have accumulated outside. Luke is the first to step out after you. "At least you don't have to hide it. Go easy on him." He says sympathetically. You chuckled softly at his words and nod seeing Spencer walking out of the house confused. You walk up to him and nudge his shoulder. "Hey." You say softly. He immediately brings you into a hug which is surprising as he doesn't necessarily give them.  You bury your head in his neck. "I wanted to tell you I promise I just couldn't." You say wrapping your arms around his waist. He steps back smiling. "It's okay you had your reasons but is it true he said you had a tattoo like them." He says grabbing your arm. He pulls up your sleeve revealing the same tattoo the victims had. "Can you do more things?" Spencer questions, smiling at you, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Yes Spence. I can do a lot." You say as you open the door to the FBI van hopping into the back with him Luke again taking the driver's seat. "What could your friends do?" He asks sadly at the fresh subject. You smile sadly. "Jeana could move things like me. Octavia could control water. Juliet had premonitions mainly she was the one that warned me. Alice could summon these light balls of 'doom', which were basically mini explosives that she summoned, she used to call it her 'glow stick blow stick'." You say laughing at the last part. "As for the woman that burned his mother. In all reality it was a man, the old woman he saw was someone manipulating his reality to make him believe one thing but it's another. He probably found out and they told him actual witches in the town." You say staring out towards the window. "Luke you didn't seem phased by it. Are you one?" Spencer asks. “No. I may have magic hands but I am no witch.” Luke says laughing. You roll your eyes playfully as you guys head back to the police station and soon enough back to your now home in Quantico. 

Bonus:

“Hey babe!” You hear Spencer yell from your shared living room. “Yeah.” You respond yelling back. Receiving no answer you head down to see him fiddling with the fireplace. “Can you… um light this up?” He says scratching the back of his neck. “You are never living down this magic thing are you?” You ask grinning at Spencer. “After you popped popcorn with your bare hands I am never going near fire ever again.” He says smiling as you light up the fireplace with your hand. He walks towards you giving you a kiss mumbling thank you and guides you to the couch for your monthly movie marathon.