#and if their victims come back from the dead and start talking they’re bosses will be in a lot of shit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nightingaelic · 3 years ago

Note

Reactions to a vampire courier? Companions plus Benny, Ulysses, Graham, House, Caesar, and Yes Man. (sorry if that's too many :x)

TW: Blood (maybe obviously)

Also I don't normally feel some type of way about AUs but the idea of Joshua Graham encountering a vampire courier is giving me shivers

The courier was a little... strange. Not in any way that stood out to the average wastelander just by looking at them, everyone in the Mojave had their quirks and the courier was no exception. Hell, you get shot in the head and come back, you're bound to have a screw or two loose. They were unquestionably a night owl, but so were half the people on the Strip, who only started to wake up after the sun had gone down and the slot machines were singing their loudest. They usually had bags under their bloodshot eyes, but every caravan driver from here to the Hub was short on sleep.

On the other hand, the courier had some habits that were a little beyond surface-level eccentricities. For one, no one had ever seen them eating, not once. Even when the King laid out a spread of pre-war snacks and liquor or when the buffet at the Tops was refreshed, they politely declined and took a swig from the canteen that they never offered to anyone else. They were also rather odd about bathrooms, insisting that anyone accompanying them remain outside on watch and let no one else through the door until they were finished. But the undeniable moment of oddity came one night in October, when their companion rounded a corner in Freeside after a trip to the Atomic Wrangler and discovered the courier behind a rusted dumpster, holding a man against a brick wall with their teeth buried in his neck.

The courier drew back at the interruption, blood smeared across their face. "I'm not- it's not what- he- oh, fuck."

Arcade Gannon: Arcade stared open-mouthed for a moment, before snapping violently back into the present. "Is he dead?"

"Umm..." The courier glanced at the man they were holding, whose head was lolling against the bricks. "Yes? Mostly."

With no patient to resuscitate, Arcade rounded on them. "Six, what in the ever-loving fuck are you doing?"

The courier tried to wipe away the blood that was dribbling from their chin, but they only succeeded in spreading it up their jawline. "Well, I, um, I was trying to..."

Whatever excuse they were searching for eluded them, so they dropped the pretense. "I was feeding, Arcade."

"Feeding? What, like some kind of-" Arcade's eyes widened and he cut his sentence off early in realization. "No. No way. That's not- vampires aren't real!"

That earned him a look of intense skepticism. "Arcade, we've fought off plant monsters and rattlesnake-coyote hybrids together. I have a gun in my pack that lets me teleport."

"Oh, okay, so you have some kind of iron deficiency and you're delusional." Arcade laughed, the sound high and harsh in the quiet alley. "Great. Fuck."

Craig Boone: Rather than engage in an abandoned alley, Boone immediately backtracked to a busier street. He was unsurprised when the courier didn't follow him: Even in Freeside, someone covered in blood was sure to be noticed and questioned.

Boone left town that night and made for Novac. He was pretty sure the courier would follow him, but he didn't know where else to go. At least he knew they were coming. A few people in Novac asked about where he'd been, what the courier was up to, but eventually they stopped asking.

A couple of weeks went by. Boone was on the night shift again when the door into the dinosaur swung open to reveal the courier. He'd heard someone coming, their feet on the stairs, and he already had his gun pointed in their face. "We will never work together again," he said, before they could open their mouth.

"Boone, can you just-"

"I don't want an explanation." Boone shook his head. "I don't need one. I already did you a favor, leaving New Vegas without putting you back in your grave. This is over."

The courier took a deep breath. "71."

"What?"

"71. I've killed 71 Legion soldiers and left their bodies empty under the Mojave sky." They looked down and shuffled their feet. "I've tasted their fear. They're more scared of me than the Burned Man, now."

Boone studied them. Ever so slowly, he lowered his gun.

Lily Bowen: "Put him down, dearie," Lily chastised them. "You're playing too roughly with that man. And watch your language around your grandma!"

The courier looked down at their victim, at their torn throat and limp limbs. "He tried to mug me, Lily. It wasn't pretty."

"He looks like he's had enough," Lily insisted. "Set him down. Gently."

With a sigh, the courier obliged and lowered the man to the ground. "I'm sorry, Lily. I should have told you earlier. I don't mean to be rude when I turn down your cooking, I just... I can't seem to..."

"Hush, now." Lily produced her enormous handkerchief and gathered the courier up in her arms, dabbing at the blood on their face with a corner of the cloth. "You've gotten it all over yourself, haven't you? We can clean that right up, but it looks like Grandma's going to have to do a load of laundry. You made the mess, so you get to help."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul swallowed nervously, something he'd noticed he was increasingly doing around the courier. "You know, we get murciélagos down in Arizona that do the same thing. They won't leave the brahmin alone."

The courier took in his anxious stance and sighed. "Raul, I'm not going to hurt you. Prometo. It's okay."

"Sure boss, but I don't think the hair on the back of my neck is going down anytime soon." Raul smiled, but it was more of a grimace. "Or it wouldn't, if I still had any. Como..?"

"No clue." The courier shrugged and held their hands up, letting the corpse they'd been holding slide to the ground. "I think it had something to do with me surviving Benny's best attempts to do me in, but a bullet is a bullet and I don't remember if I was like this before, or..."

"Or only after." Raul chuckled. "Jesucristo, and here I am thinking I'll outlive you like most everyone else I've known."

"Yep."

"Should I start calling you el chupacabra?"

The courier grinned, a bloody smile with sharp teeth.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Fuck," Cass echoed, scrambling to pull her shotgun from its holster. "Knew I had too much, can't even- who are you and what've you done with the courier? Some kind of cannibal, wearing their skin? Alien? Shapeshifter? I'll blow a hole in your liver to match mine!"

"Whoa, Cass, it's me, it's me!" The courier dropped the man they were holding and held their blood-stained hands up. "Same old Six, just... maybe I wasn't straight with you about why I don't order anything at bars."

"Goddamn right you weren't straight with me!" Cass gestured at the body on the ground with the barrel of her gun. "Who's the fucker on the floor and why are you two pints in on him?"

"Just trying to get my drink on," the courier muttered.

Cass repaid this facetiousness with a jab of her shotgun, and they raised their hands higher. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! You tell me, how do you tactfully tell someone that you're a creature of the night and you need to drink blood to survive?"

"Creature of the night? You're fucking loopy." Cass' eyes narrowed. "There's plenty of critters in the Mojave that only come out when it's dark, but most of them don't tear into..."

She trailed off into curses when she realized she was wrong. The courier smiled hesitantly and lowered their hands an inch. "Hey. Let me chuck this failed mugger in the dumpster and we can talk about it like a pair of civilized folks?"

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica squeaked and fell back a few steps, banging her elbow against the edge of the dumpster. A jolt of confused pain shot up her arm, and the Scribe couldn't help giggling harshly at the sudden assault on her funny bone.

"Not- laughing... at murder," she managed to get out between hisses of pain. "Oh, for the love of... right, you're not getting out of explaining what you are, exactly, just because I'm indis-indisposed!"

The courier couldn't help laughing at the squirming Scribe, but they did their best to stifle it. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I um... I guess I don't really know... what I am?"

"There's books!" Veronica burst out, pointing at the courier and their victim wildly. "I've seen them, in old libraries. Creatures that feed on blood, only come out at night, don't show up in... in mirrors, of course, no wonder you're weird about bathrooms, I should test... Dracula! That's it, you're a Dracula!"

"A Dracula?" The courier held their hands up, as if seeing them anew. "Never heard of them. Are they... bad?"

"Well, traditionally, yes." Veronica made a face and rubbed her elbow. "Black cloaks, sleeping in coffins, seducing and manipulating everyone around them... and people don't like it when you take their blood, in my experience."

"Whose blood have you taken?"

"This isn't about me, Six!"

ED-E: The eyebot bobbed wildly and made noises of concern, blips and blats and a flat burst of trumpets from some old jazz tune.

"I was hungry," the courier protested. "And this asshole pulled a knife on me and wanted all of my caps. Probably more than that, if we're being honest. He wasn't doing the world any good, but he did me some, for sure."

ED-E flipped between old clips of a Silver Shroud radio show. "Well, isn't this a deep, dark <static> secret? <static> In a situation such as this, the best anyone can do is <static> try to control it!" The robot added some more concerned beeps for good measure.

"I'm trying," the courier said with a sigh, looking down at the dead man they were holding. "You know I wouldn't hurt some random person, ED-E. Not if I could help it. The Mojave's full of bad people, enough to keep me going if I'm careful."

Rex: The hair on Rex's spine stood up, and he let out a long, low growl. The courier froze for a moment, before realizing that he was growling not at them but at the man they were holding.

"He's dead, Rex," they reassured the cyberdog, lowering the corpse to the floor for inspection.

Rex sniffed the body over, taking in the copper scent of his blood and the Freeside stink on his clothes. He sniffed the courier too, each of their hands they held out to him and the thick headiness of adrenaline. He whined and wagged his tail twice.

"Good boy," the courier said, straightening up. "It's about time I turned in, anyway. Let's dump this guy and split."

Benny Gecko: Benny crossed his arms. "You know, Six, if you're dead set on getting your kicks in Freeside every now and then, you might want to ease up on the passions with the next greaser you snag. This one's torn all to pieces."

"I wasn't- what kind of-" The courier dropped the man they were holding and sputtered. "Christ, only you could make a midnight murder awkward, Benny."

"Murder?" Benny raised his eyebrows and looked from side to side theatrically. "Who said anything about a murder? All I saw was some dreamboat and the best apple butterer of New Vegas playing back alley bingo, officer."

The courier's eyes narrowed. "Not gonna rat me out? Tell the King or somebody that I'm..."

"What, taking a page out of the White Glove Society's book?" Benny held his hands up. "None of my business. Well, if you ever come for me with that look in your eyes, though, that'll be a different story."

"Not much you'd be able to do," the courier pointed out. "You already tried and failed to kill me once."

Ulysses: Rather than react like any normal wastelander might've upon encountering someone attacking a man with their teeth, Ulysses just stood there, taking the scene in. "Heard tales of a tribe like you. East, farther east than even I've walked... a coven hiding in tunnels, emerging only when their hungers grow too strong to ignore, strong enough to pull blood from the veins of the world around them."

"Well, I don't hide in tunnels." The courier grimaced and heaved their victim up over their shoulder, depositing them unceremoniously in the dumpster. "Unless some disgruntled Frumentarius sends me out to hunt mutants under Hopeville."

"Perhaps you have more in common with those predators than I assumed," Ulysses admitted. "But then, your path has always run red. Blood of the Old World, blood of the new, blood of the Bull and the Bear..."

The courier rolled their eyes as they peeled off their red-stained coat and tossed it in the dumpster as well. "Don't talk to me about blood. I know you've seen just as much as me, but it doesn't mean the same thing when I look at it."

Ulysses cracked a hint of a smile. "You see life where I see death. Two sides, courier."

"Yeah, yeah. If you're not going to try to kill me, come on. You can wax poetic and lecture me about which road I'm walking while I take a shower."

Joshua Graham: "A creature far from God," Graham said in his most reproachful tone. "Forever damned for the souls of the innocent they've taken from the earth. Aren't we a pair, courier."

"You can fuck right off with that attitude." The courier dropped the man they were holding and wiped their hands on their coat. "He tried to kill me first. For some caps."

"The crimes of others do not absolve you of your own sins, courier," Graham continued, leisurely retrieving his gun from its holster. He held it up in the muted neon light that filtered through the alley, turning the weapon this way and that. "Though I confess I am also looking for absolution in this way."

"Are you going to kill me?" the courier asked, eyeing the gun as well.

"I've no doubt it would leave this world better than when you walked it," Graham replied. "But my own opinions are not enough to seal your fate. Perhaps we should find this man's family and hear their feelings on the matter."

The courier took a step forward, then another, until their chest was right up against the pistol's muzzle, pressed against the fabric of their shirt. "Go ahead. Try."

And though Joshua Graham was sorely tempted to pull the trigger, though the courier made no move to stop him, something in their eyes... some faraway pain, older than the desert itself, fresh as the blood on the ground, stayed his hand.

He lowered the gun, chastised, and the courier walked away.

Robert House: The Securitron that bore Robert House's face on its screen leveled a minigun at the courier. "Whoa!" the courier protested, dropping their victim and putting their hands out. "Can't we talk about this?"

"And what have we to discuss?" House sounded absolutely disgusted. "I believe you're familiar with my contract with the White Glove Society. If they wish to continue their current prosperity in New Vegas, cannibalism is strictly forbidden. You are subject to the same terms and conditions, as one of my employees."

"Terms and condi- hold on, hold on, you never asked me whether I was a cannibal," the courier replied. "Are you talking about that document you had me sign, way back when I agreed to help you fight the NCR and the Legion?"

"The very same."

"How is that fair? That thing was over 200 pages long, I didn't grow up in the 21st century, I don't have a degree in... okay, okay." The courier waved their hands. "Cannibalism is a no-go. This isn't cannibalism, this is vampirism."

"Which falls under the definition of cannibalism," House replied, his annoyed tone still detectable over the sound of the minigun spinning up. "Section 3.65, subsection F. Next time, read the fine print."

Caesar: The Legion's great leader pivoted in an instant from surprise to quiet anger. "Clean yourself up, courier. I expect to see you in my quarters within the hour."

He turned and left the alley swiftly, letting his powerful stride and swinging cloak cover his shaken confidence. The people of Freeside cowered as he passed, shrinking into the shadows as he made his way back to the Strip, but the fear in their eyes was not enough to erase the image of the courier bent over in bloodlust, holding their victim in total subjugation.

The courier found him on the top floor of the Lucky 38, gazing out over the city he had conquered and named his Rome. "Leave us," Caesar bid his Praetorian Guard. They bowed and departed the room without question.

"You asked to see me," the courier said nervously, shifting their weight from foot to foot. They had changed clothes, and no trace of blood remained on them.

"I did." Caesar beckoned them to the window next to him. They stood in silence for a moment, watching the lights wink below.

"I'm a well-read man, courier," Caesar said finally. "I know the legends of the Old World, and I recognize the marks of one of their nightmares in you. I order you to tell me the truth: Do you fit the full definition of the creature they called 'vampire,' or do you simply mimic the things to add to your fearsome affect?"

The courier didn't answer right away. When they did, their voice was soft. "I pretend to be nothing. I am what I am."

"And everything that comes with it?" Caesar pressed. "Darkness, the blood of the innocent, eternity?"

"Yes."

Caesar turned to face them fully. "Then I, Almighty Caesar, command you to make me as you are."

Yes Man: "Now that's a twist I didn't see coming!" Yes Man said, his happy tone only slightly tempered with uncertainty. "Boy, am I glad I don't have a circulatory system right now!"

The courier shushed the Securitron and looked around the alley surreptitiously. "Yes Man, I swear to god, if you blow my cover I'm disassembling you."

"As I've told you before, I can't technically die!" Yes Man reassured them. "And I certainly wouldn't want to endanger you and your hobbies, but my volume mixer is tied to my enthusiasm simulator and I can't adjust it! You'll just have to hope any passersby aren't interested in following my friendly voice into an alley!"

"Then go back to the Lucky 38 and we'll talk later," the courier insisted, through gritted teeth.

"I technically never left! But if you mean this Securitron, sure thing!" Yes Man zoomed away on his single wheel, whistling the whole way back to the casino where the rest of his consciousness was housed. He kept whistling as he ran probability algorithms, only pausing when the courier returned after a few hours and crossed their arms in front of his main screen.

"Hi there!" he said joyfully. "I've just been cross-checking Mr. House's records on noteworthy disappearances in the Strip, and I've flagged eight of them as potentially being connected to you! I don't want to assume your intentions, but if you don't want to be found out, I've developed a plan for choosing your next victims that will help you remain undetected in New Vegas for 184 years! Give or take a few!"

The courier put their head in their hand and sighed.

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aithorin · 3 years ago

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An Exception to the Rule - All Smite x Reader (18+)

Summary: Now All Smite was by no means a hero. In fact, he was quite literally the opposite, but for you he might be willing to make an exception.

Warnings: Mentions/threats of rape (nothing actually happens), Villain Au, Villain!All Might, Blood and violence, Threats of violence, Slight gore, hostage, Protective!All Might (i.e. he basically goes on a rampage cause someone tries to hurt you), Soft ending with hurt/comfort

Rated M for violence

Flying through the city, a smirk made its way onto All Might’s face as he heard a scream echo throughout the night. God, he reveled in the chaos. The chaos that he created. His very presence had allowed the chaos in Japan to fester and grow throughout, and thus every time he heard crimes being committed, his chest swelled with pride. It made his ego surge to watch the fruit of his efforts be harvested and taken advantage of. There was just something so immensely satisfying about it, knowing that every villain in Japan owed the success of their crimes to him. It provided a rush of gratifying adrenaline like no other.

Deciding he had a few minutes to spare, All Might quickly set course towards the sound of the disruption. At the very least, it would provide some entertainment. But, depending on what they were doing to the unfortunate soul, he might even decide to join in. It would be a nice way to unwind before going home to you. God knows how much fun he had seeing the way people cowered at the very sight of him.

Landing silently behind the group, he quietly observed the scene unfold, trying to decide if he wanted to step in.

“Eh this one’s a looker, isn’t she boys? Before the night’s over, I think I’ll use her for the whore that she is.” The one All Might assumed to be the leader taunted, stepping forward to tower over their victim.

Manic laughter floated throughout the air as the two lackeys accompanying him moved in to completely surround their target. “That sounds like a great idea boss! You always have the best ideas. Can we get a turn too? Please. Please. Please!” The one on the right begged.

“Maybe once she’s unconscious. You know it’s only fun for me when they’re awake so I can see the look of fear in their eyes. God, just the thought of it is giving me a hard on already.” The leader chuckled out.

”Pl-please,” A woman’s shaky, frightened voice whimpered out, “let me go. I-I have money. Just tell me what you want!”

At the sound of the woman’s voice, the blood in All Might’s veins turned ice cold. That-that was your voice. And just like that, the overwhelming pride he had been feeling moments ago withered away, consumed by something much more deadly-a feral rage. How dare they talk to you like that? How dare they even try to lay their hands on you? Fists clenched and shaking in anger, All Might stalked towards them, blue eyes blazing and filled with an unquenchable, seething bloodlust.

Unaware of their impending doom, a harsh slap echoed through the night as the leader thug slammed your head into the dumpster you were backed against. He looked down at you, sneering, “Shut up, bitch! You’ll be lucky if you make it out of here alive tonight. You should be grateful that I’m even considering it.”

“I’d leave the girl alone if you know what’s good for you.” A gravelly voice spoke from behind.

Turning around halfway, the leader scoffed, not even bothering to see who the person was. “Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it? This one’s ours, so why don’t you scram before I decide to kill you t-”

He was cut off as a hand shot out, quick as lightning, to wrap around his throat. Before he could even register what was happening, the thug’s eyes bulged as the hand began choking him. He felt himself being lifted 3 feet into the air, and soon came face to face with a set of flaming blue eyes. At the sight of them, his body went stiff in fear. The rest of the newcomer’s face was hidden by the shadows of the night, but just the sight of his eyes were enough to make the thug cower.

“Who….the….hell….are….you?” The leader gasped out, vision going spotty from his quickly draining air supply.

Letting out a sinister chuckle, the newcomer stepped into the light emitting from a nearby streetlamp. Seeing who it was, the leader’s mouth went dry as a sweat broke out on his forehead. His already tight throat closed up even more causing his breath to come out in wheezes as a chill of fear worked its way down his spine, causing his body to tremble in mid-air.

“Al-All...Might” He rasped out, hands pointlessly tugging on the one large hand curled around his throat.

A wicked smile crept onto All Might’s face. “Good,” He purred out, “You know who I am, so there’s no need for introductions. Maybe you aren’t a complete imbecile.”

Tilting his head to study his prey, All Might reconsidered, “Although it is hard to believe you actually possess a brain, considering you tried to steal something of mine.”

Nodding his head toward your shaking, huddled form a few feet away, All Might’s face hardened. “That girl over there belongs to me, and you just tried to touch her. Now if you remember anything about me, you should know that I don’t share. Do you want to know what happens to people who try to take things that belong to me?”

Eyes darting back and forth, the thug frantically shook his head as much as he could while being held in All Might’s grip. “Pl-please… I-I… didn’t know!”

Ignoring the man’s pleas completely, all the previous traces of being dangerously coy with the thug were wiped away as All Might murderously intoned, “They die.”

With that, All Might began to squeeze the hand wrapped around the man’s throat even tighter. Garbled chokes escaped the man’s lips as with each passing second All Might added more and more force. Reveling in the sound, a sadistic, twisted grin made its way onto All Might’s face. If he was feeling generous, he could have just snapped the man’s neck and been done with it, but that would have been too easy. The bastard had to pay for what he did, and so All Might made sure to drag it, delighting in the way the man’s neck slowly began to crack in his grasp as the life drained from his eyes. Sickening sounds floated into the air, mixtures of bone breaking and strangled gasps as the man gagged on his own saliva. His hands flailed, desperately clawing at the limb wrapped around his neck in a futile attempt to break free. Much too soon for All Might’s liking though, the thug’s efforts slowed before stopping altogether, his hands falling lifelessly back down to his side.

Letting out a sneer, All Might finally released him from his grasp letting his body carelessly crumple to the ground with a revolting thud. “How pathetic, he didn’t even last 2 minutes.”

Taking one last glance at the body, he kicked it to the side before turning his attention toward the two lackeys trembling in the corner. Blinded by bloodlust, he stalked toward them, licking his lips in anticipation and clenching his hands together, imagining their necks were in between them.

All Might was almost upon them when a flash of movement captured the corner of his eye. Momentarily ignoring his prey, he shifted his body slightly and caught sight of you, shivering in a seated position with your arms wrapped tightly around your legs while slowly rocking back and forth. Gooseflesh had broken out along your skin from the chilly night air, only agitated by the cold sweat that had broken out upon your brow from the night’s events. Stray hairs stuck to your skin as wide, fearful (e/c) eyes looked up to lock with his own, and instantly All Might felt his bloodlust melt away, replaced by an overwhelming need to go to you.

Spinning back around, he addressed the two lackeys quivering in the corner. He pointed a disgusted, raging scowl at the thugs before thundering his ultimatum. “You have exactly 5 seconds to get out of my sight. Otherwise, you’re gonna end up like your boss over there.” He stated, throwing a finger back over his shoulder in the direction of the corpse.

Leaning down, he pulled both of them up by the collar of their necks. “And if I ever catch you even looking at this girl, trust me when I say you won’t live to tell anyone about it. But, feel free to tell your buddies about what happened here tonight. It’ll be a good reminder to everyone out there about what happens when you try to take something that belongs to me. Remember boys, I. Don’t. Share. So spread the word that this girl’s mine.”

Then, without another word, All Might threw them towards the opening of the alley. Not needing to be told twice, they scrambled back, hightailing it out of there. Watching them go, a small smirk passed over his face at their show of naivety. He’d let them go, for now. He had more important matters to take care of. But come tomorrow, they’d be dead. All Might was nothing if not a man of his word, and so they, too, would have to pay with their lives for trying to steal from him. He could see it now. The look of shock their faces would portray at his appearance tomorrow. The way it would morph into a look of fear as he approached them. And finally, the acceptance that would fill their eyes as he squeezed the life out of them, realizing, at last, that he had never intended to let them truly escape. Yes, tomorrow would be a very good day indeed.

Turning around, he started to approach you, making slow, small steps when your face darted up in fear, like a deer caught in headlights. Seeing that it was just him, All Might watched your tense body start to relax as you buried your head back into your legs. Reaching you, he squatted down to be eye level with you, hesitantly reaching an arm out to place it on your shoulder. Now that you were no longer in danger, All Might felt unsure of what to do. He didn’t know how to comfort someone in distress as he was much more used to being the one causing the distress. Finally, he decided to settle for asking basic yet somewhat obvious questions.

“Are you alright?” He gruffed out.

Hearing no reply, a worry that he tried to push away started to creep into his mind the longer you stayed silent. Were you hurt? Had he gotten there too late? Had they touched you? He started to become lost in thoughts until a sudden force jolted him out of it. Looking down, he saw that you had attached yourself to his body, clutching at him like your life depended on it. He debated with himself for a few moments before choosing to reciprocate the gesture, wrapping his large arms around you and encasing you within his body heat. At his touch, your body started to shake with silent sobs, tears from your eyes beginning to wet his shirt. You stayed that way for a long time, bodies holding onto each other as you tried to process the events from the night. All Might didn’t say anything, choosing to offer you support quietly for as long as you needed it. Eventually though, your cries subsided and your frame slumped against him, exhausted from everything that had happened.

Eyes heavy, you were vaguely aware of your body shifting as All Might stood up. Lifting you with ease, he placed you into both of his arms, saying “Come on. Let’s go home.”

Slowly being lulled to sleep by the rhythm of his footsteps, a feeling of warmth and safeness washed over you. Right before you drifted to sleep, an inkling of a smile crossed over your face as you thought of the irony that you felt completely protected in the arms of the number one villain. With him, you knew that he would always be there to keep you safe. Although he was a villain, if tonight had proven anything, it seemed that you were an exception to the rule.

#all might x reader #villain all might x reader #all smite x reader #all smite #mha #my hero academia #yagi toshinori #all might x you #villain au #villain!all might #my hero fanfic #my hero x you #all might imagine

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nephilim-problems · 3 years ago

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Hi guys! This is a new fic I came up with where the reader is Barry Allen's ex-wife and she moves to Virgina and becomes a part of the BAU. It's basically a cross over between The Arrowverse and Criminal minds. Let me know if you want more 🥰

I had been working at the BAU for 3 years and I felt like I was in a family but what type of person keeps secrets for their family? Everyone is the answer but I felt guilty for hiding a whole half of my life, and my slight crush on my boss. I mean it was only a slight crush I found him very attractive but he of course was my boss and he would never go over that professional barrier. I tapped my pen against my desk, feeling like I had read the same line on the same report 7 or 8 times. This job was great except for the paperwork. The paperwork was always the most boring part.

“Guys we have a case,” J.J said walking into the bullpen.

I looked up and saw Hotch wasn’t in his office and Rossi wasn’t either. They were probably already at the round table. Morgan came around my side as I push my chair in.

“He’s probably already at the table sweetheart,” Morgan said putting his hand on the small of my back. “We should probably head there too.”

“Yeah we should,” I sighed letting him lead me away.

“There goes my weekend,” Prentiss said taking a seat next to Rossi.

“You had plans this weekend?” Morgan asked sincerely as we sat down. “I stopped making plans years ago.”

“I still like to try,” She smiled.

“We wanted to take Henry to the zoo this weekend but I guess Will will have to go alone,” J.J said, sending a text I guessed to her boyfriend.

“I actually didn’t have plans so,” Reid replied, making me chuckle.

“I wanted to go check out that new restaurant down the street, but I guess there’s always when we get back,” I laughed as Garcia set a case file in front of me.

“Happy friday my darling profilers you are going to central city, Missouri, 3 women found dead all dumped by the side of the road going into the city. All 3 showed signs of torture and rape and then there is this, which is why the central city police is calling us in,” Garcia spoke but all eyes wen wide after we saw the pictures.

“He removed their tongue,” J.J said looking disgusted. “That’s new.”

“Actually this is the second time we have seen this. The last time was when Holis Walker killed 4 people in order to promote his book,” Reid replied.

"So rage maybe?" I said. "Maybe these women mean something to him."

"He shows remorse with the way he dumps the body," Morgan replied. "But he's so angry when he kills them."

"Either Way we have 2 days to find this girl alive. Wheels up in 30," Hotch said, collecting his case files and bolting out of the room.

I started to collect mine when Penelope, Emily, and J.J sat around me. They had left all their stuff on the table where they were sitting and they were all staring at me.

"So when are you going to tell Hotch you have a crush on him?" Emily asked, staring into me.

"I-I don't have a crush on Hotch," I chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "He's my boss, that would be completely wrong."

"You think you can hide that from some profilers?" J.J asked, smiling at me.

"I am not hiding anything," I laughed when suddenly I saw Morgan coming up behind Penelope.

"Baby girl, why are you picking on her," Morgan asked, setting his hands on her shoulders.

"Oh we're just teasing little miss (Y/N/N) about her crush on hotch," Emily said causing everyone to laugh.

"And I just said I didn't have a crush on Hotch," I said standing up.

"Sweetheart we all know, its okay," Morgan laughed, making me uncomfortably shuffle towards the door.

"I definitely do not have a thing for Hotch," I replied walking towards the door. "I have to get my go bag before anyone else starts in om my supposed crush on hotch."

I heard laughter from behind me but ignored it and ran to grab my bag. I quickly scooped the bag up and ran to meet the team.

Soon we were sitting on the jet discussing the case when the pilot announced we would be landing in 10 minutes. That was Hotch's que to start handing everyone a job.

"Rossi, you and agent Prentiss head to the abduction site, Reid, you and Agent Allen head to the dump site, J.J, Morgan, and I will head to the police department," Hotch finished then Morgan cut in.

"Reid and I were actually hoping to head to the police department," he said and Reid looked suspiciously at him then turned back.

"I wanted to start the geological profile," Reid smirked unconvincingly.

"Okay I will go with Rossi, Prentiss, you head to the crime scene," Hotch replied, sighing and looking over the file.

"Actually, sir, I would like to go to the abduction site if that's okay with you," Emily smiled.

"I'll go to the dump site then. We will meet back at the station when we're done,"Hotch replied.

The rest of the team smiled at each other before looking at me. I rolled my eyes at them and crossed my legs. They were absolutely right though, I did have a massive crush on Hotch. It started as just thinking he was hot and wanting to feel him thrust into me then I found the comforting side of him. I had gotten kidnapped while on a case Morgan joked it was a "rite of passage". It wasn't terrible. He had cut me a bit but when the team had broken open the door to his house it startled him enough for me to wiggle out of my restraints and attack him. Eventually I had to stab him just as Hotch broke in. He doted over me for weeks making sure I was okay and that he was always there if I needed to talk. It was very cute and it made my feelings for him grow more intense; however I was going to deny it until I was blue in the face. Even if it was no use because I was lying to a group of profilers.

It was an uncomfortable ride to the dump site. I was trying to focus on the file in front of me but it was unbearably hot in the humid Missouri weather and for some horrible reason the a/c wasn't working. I was closer to using the file as a fan than actually looking it at. Hotch had taken his jacket off and loosened his tie which had me on edge. It looked as hot as I felt. I couldn't take my eyes off him but I didn't want him to see me.

Soon the car was stopping and I was hopping out thankful to be out of the car but somehow it was hotter outside.

"Hotch I can see the body was from here," I said standing on the other side of the car.

"So he wasn't trying to hide her," he replied.

I followed him down off the street and across the crime scene tape.

"He has to have stayed here awhile. Posing on the victim, her hair is brushed, and her fingernails are painted. But he could be seen from the road," I said, throwing my hands in the pockets of my pants.

"So he doesn't stand out," Hotch replied.

"Or he parked his car and hid himself from view."

"Then the car was plain enough not to raise alarm."

"We're in Central City Hotch. I lived here for a bit, the locals are helpful. If they saw a car parked here at night they'd probably stop to ask what's wrong."

Hotch actually looked a bit stumped for the first time since I had started working at the bau.

"Then he has to have a van or truck," Hotch said.

"That's big enough to conceal her and him but something you wouldn't stop on the side of the road to help," I said stepping around the scene. "What about city or park trucks?"

"They're large enough to block traffic from seeing him," Hotch paused. "Let's head to the station to meet with J.J, Reid, and Morgan. Hopefully Reid has something with the geographical profile."

With those words Hotch was off with a phone to his ear I assume to Garcia. I followed close behind and slid in the car with him and we took off to the station. It wasn't far. We talked about the heat mainly and Central City. When we pulled up to the station I got queezy. This meant I'd have to see Joe and Barry again. It was a life I was hoping would never clash with this one.

Hotch parked and we walked up the steps to the central city police station. It looked just as I remembered it, beautiful. J.J came fast approaching and stopped in front of Hotch.

"Hotch, Captain Singh may have brought us in but the officers aren't cooperating. Detective Joe West was the officer assigned to this case." J.J said, stopping us in our tracks.

"Is he cooperating?" Hotch replied.

"For the most part yeah," J.J said tapping her thighs which she only did when she was frustrated.

"They won't cooperate because of the flash," I piped up and they all looked at me confused.

"Who is the flash?" J.J asked.

"He's a vigilante from Central City. The U.S government has kept a handle on any information about him to keep from a vigilante crisis," Hotch replied.

"If central city has the flash, why are we being called in?" J.J asked.

"The flash is good at catching people but he isn't a detective. He can't find these women like we can," I replied.

"I don't care about the flash right now, the only thing we should be focused on is finding this girl in the next 40 hours," Hotch said walking by J.J and into the bullpen.

I followed and saw Joe talking to Reid and Morgan in a small glass room on the other side of the bullpen. I basically ran over and opened the door so excited to see Joe again. Then I saw Barry standing with them.

"(Y/N)," Joe called out.

"Joe," I smiled as he grabbed me into a large hug.

"It's so good to see you," he said, squeezing me tightly.

"It's so good to see you too," I smiled, parting from the hug and pulling Barry in. I hadn’t realized how much I missed his hugs.

"It's been awhile (Y/N/N)," Barry said and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Yeah, I've missed you Bares," I said, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"I missed you too," Barry mumbled as I pulled away.

"You guys know each other?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah, I was in college and I lived with Joe, Barry, Wally, and Iris," I said feeling a bit happier.

"Barry has been helping us with the forensic side of things," Reid replied.

"How far did you get with the geographical profile?" I asked

"Not very far," Reid said, making his nervous smile.

"Don't tell Hotch that," I smirked and patted him on the shoulder.

"We're thinking male, white, late 20s early 30s, sexual sadist," Morgan said, throwing the file down.

"Hotch and I think he might work for the city or parks. He's got a truck that gives him enough privacy to pose the victim and brush her hair," I said. "And the only thing we could think of was city and park vehicles."

"I already called Garcia to check for white males in their late 20s early 30s that have access to city or park vehicles," Hotch said standing over me.

"That's almost anyone," Joe replied. "Anyone who works for the city, parks and recreation, police, or even just rich CEOs who donate."

"Can you get me a list of all those people?" Hotch asked.

"Yeah," Joe replied and started walking. "Barry, I'm going to need your help."

"Coming Joe," Barry replied. "(Y/N/N) you s-should come by for dinner. Iris would love to see you."

"I'll make time for it Barry," I smiled and squeezed his arm as he left.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you tell us you were from here?" Morgan asked.

"I'm not from here," I laughed trying to brush him off. "Iris, Barry, and I went to college together. We've kept in contact the best we can but things have happened."

"Oh yeah what things?" Morgan laughed as Emily and Rossi came in.

"The victim put up a huge struggle," Emily said and I silently cheered. "She threw anything within reach at him. We found bullet holes in the walls. We think she had a gun."

Suddenly Morgan pulled out his phone.

"Hey baby girl it's Morgan," he said and we all knew he was calling Garcia. "I'm going to put you on speaker."

"Hey Garcia, did Alyssa Smith have a gun registered to her?" Emily asked, putting her hands on the table.

"Yes she did own a gun. She also had a hunting license," Garcia replied.

"Did any of the other 3 victims?" Hotch asked, setting his hand on the lower of my back. It sent chills down my spine as I tried to focus.

"Yes, all 3 victims had gun licenses and hunting licenses," Garcia replied.

"Thanks baby girl," Morgan said.

"Anything for you my love," Garcia replied as Morgan hung up the phone.

"You know, cases where victims have and use guns scare the shit out of me," I said, taking a step back and feeling slightly sad when Hotch took his hand off of me.

"Thats our only pattern," Reid sighed.

"I don't know if you've noticed but central city isn't exactly a hunting gun owning town. Most people don't own a gun unless you work in law enforcement," I replied.

"Detective West said law enforcement was on our list of people who had access to the vehicles we are looking for," Hotch said. "Get Garcia on the phone. I'm going to see if I can check on that list."

"I'm going to talk to Barry and see if he has any contacts who saw anything," I said, starting to walk towards the door.

"J.J make sure this doesn't get leaked to the press," Hotch said following. "Agent Allen, I need to talk to you."

"Uh, yes sir," I said walking out and standing on the side.

#aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #david rossi #hotch x y/n #barry allen x reader #arrowverse #the flash #barry allen #au #crossover

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Pay Attention

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 4472

Part 2 of 2

Part One

Summary: With a new body, the team is sure that the reader’s attacker is the unsub they’re looking for. He, however, is looking for them too.

Notes: Like the last part, this one is a dark one guys. This part will deal with more violence and the attacks. Feel free to skip. I really loved writing both of these. Let me know what you think!

Warnings: Trauma, gore, assault, mentions of rape and sexual assault.

Find Reid and more crime drama imagines: HERE

He checked every corner of your apartment, leaving no throw pillow unturned. After that call, he wasn’t taking any chances. It wasn’t until he was sure it was clear that he let you through the door. You had your arms wrapped around yourself, hugging your sweater closer to your body.

“Spence, come on. I feel ridiculous enough with the security detail standing out here.” You glanced at the agent beside you. “No offense, Agent Bradford.”

“None taken.” He nodded with a kind smile. You stepped into your apartment and Spence immediately started making you some tea.

“I can do that.”

“I know.” He looked at you and his hazel eyes were distraught. “I just… I need to help. Please, just let me help.” He turned back to the stove to put the kettle on. His shoulders slouched forward and his whole frame seemed to cave in on itself. You took off your sweater and laid in on the back of the living room chair. Everything felt so hot and stuffy and suffocating.

You pressed your cheek against Spencer’s back, wrapping your arms around his middle. Your chest and arms still ached and the bandages rubbed against his sweater vest. Spencer paused, resting his hands on top of yours. You could hear how fast his nervous heart was beating and held him a little tighter.

“I’m okay, Spence.” You whispered, but even you thought it sounded unconvincing. You were scared and you were angry and you were guilt-ridden for causing him this much pain, but you definitely were not ‘okay’. He could feel it too.

Spencer turned around, still keeping your arms around him. He tucked your head under his chin and enveloped you in his embrace, holding you as close as he could without hurting you. You held each other like that until you pushed away slightly.

“Spencer?” Tears pricked the corners of your eyes and Spencer put a hand on your cheek, his eyes searching yours in panic.

“What is it?”

“Can you…” You felt so stupid, but you needed to feel something else. “Can you kiss me?” His brows knitted together in confusion. You looked down at your feet. “All I can think about is him and his hands and his lips and I-” You choked back more tears.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He put his other hand up so he was cradling your face. He hesitated at first, worried that it would trigger memories of the attack. But when you gave him a small nod, he closed the space between you.

Spencer’s lips were soft. He seemed overly cautious at first, but it only took a moment for him to confirm that you weren’t uncomfortable. His fingers slowly slipped back to tangle themselves in your hair. It wasn’t rough or needy. It was more to remind you that he was there. He was with you.

You weren’t sure which one of you fell asleep first, but your couch was hardly big enough for both of you. You were pressed against his chest and he had his arms locked around you to keep you from rolling off. You listened to his heartbeat and he listened to your breathing, both lulling each of you to sleep.

Until his phone rang.

It woke you up first and Spencer still seemed fast asleep so you answered it.

“Hello?” You whispered, slowly trying to slide off of your boyfriend so he wouldn’t wake up.

“Y/N?” It was Morgan.

“Yeah, Spence is asleep. Is everything okay?”

“Not exactly. We found another body.” He sighed. “Looks like our guy.”

“He killed someone else?” You cried, putting your hand over your mouth to quiet the sound. “That’s not possible. He said he would stop as long as I went to Hotch. He said he would stop-”

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, just calm down, okay?” Morgan instructed, softening his tone. “I need you to keep calm and put Reid on the phone, can you do that for me?”

“I’m not a child Morgan.” You snapped bitterly. You didn’t mean to take out your frustration on him, but your blood was boiling. Your anger kept you from being afraid.

“I know that.” He wasn’t defensive or irritated. Instead he seemed sympathetic. “Y/N, this isn’t your fault. This guy was never going to stop.” Morgan watched crime scene investigators swarm around him, his eyes landing on the new body. He had a gut feeling that had been gnawing at him since he got here and he hoped that he was wrong.

“Who is it?” Spencer rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up.

“Here, he’s awake now.” You handed him the phone and had to sit down. It was like he was there, his weight crushing your chest and making it impossible to breathe.

“Reid, we’ve got another body.”

“That’s not much of a cool down.” Reid pinched the bridge of his nose. This could be turning into a spree which meant that he would strike again soon. He turned so that he wasn’t facing you and tried to lower his voice so you wouldn’t hear. “Did the other crime scenes seem to fit Y/N’s attack?”

“That’s the thing, Reid.” Morgan stared at the pale blue fabric hanging limply from Maddison Gusman’s body. “When we talked to the family of the last victim, they said only one thing was missing from her body. Her red jacket.”

“The one Y/N saw in the van.” Spence winced. While making connections would help catch the man that did this, it wouldn’t make it easier for you.

“There’s something else. About this body.”

“Is she missing something too?”

“No. It’s what she’s wearing.” Morgan watched them zip the body bag and grimaced. “Her shirt isn’t the right size. It’s too big.”

“What does that have to do with-” He stopped, feeling his stomach drop. “You don’t think that…”

“Hotch said they never recovered Y/N’s shirt. Other victims had items of clothing that were missing. From the missing person’s report, the shirt on the body is not the shirt that Maddison Gusman was wearing according to her boss’ description.”

Spencer was silent, trying to control himself so he didn’t scare you.

“You okay, kid?”

“A murdered woman was found wearing my girlfriend’s shirt less than 24 hours after she was attacked by a serial killer. No, Morgan, I’m not okay.” He hissed. He flinched, hearing a sob escape your mouth despite your efforts to cover it. So much for control. “Do you need me to come in?”

“No, you stay there. Prentiss and I will come to you to go over the details.” Hotch didn’t want either one of you stepping one foot out of that apartment. “And Reid?”

“Yeah?”

“If either of you need anything, I’m a phone call away.” Morgan wished that he could just take all of this away, but he couldn't. The best thing he could do was catch the bastard. The agents hung up and Morgan returned to the crime scene.

“He made her wear my shirt?” You tried to stand up from the chair, but your legs were shaking. Spencer gently sat you back down and crouched in front of you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. You weren’t supposed to hear that.” He put his hands on your legs, his fingers rubbing soothing circles. He looked at the floor. “Morgan and Prentiss will be here soon. They want to go over some of the details with me. They might want to talk to you too.” His hazel eyes searched yours with the same sadness you saw in them at the hospital.

“Okay,” You said softly, twirling one of his mousy brown curls around your finger. You stared at it, your mind unable to escape your own guilt. “I really thought that if I did what he said, he would stop.” Spencer caught your hand in his, tangling your fingers together.

“This man wants to feel powerful. He’s been neglected all his life and this is how he’s getting attention. He needs it.”

“So he was never going to stop.” You nodded grimly. You should have seen that. You taught this kind of behavioural analysis, for god’s sake. “I gave him what he wanted for nothing.” You should have known better.

“No,” Spencer said sternly. He pressed his forehead against yours, holding the back of your head in his hand. “It probably kept you alive. And to me that’s everything.”

You stayed there for a while, breathing each other in and holding completely still. Suddenly, a gunshot ripped through the silence, followed by another. Spencer was up in a second, pistol in hand and slowly walking toward the door.

“Spence,” You squeaked, getting up from the chair.

“Stay there.” He instructed, listening carefully for any other sounds coming from outside the door.

He slowly opened the front door, but his path was obstructed by Agent Bradford’s body. There was what appeared to be a stab wound in his side and two gunshot wounds in his chest. His gun was gone. Reid looked down the hall, finding the fire escape window open.

“Spencer.” He heard you call out. Darting back into the room, he kept his gun at his hip.

“It looks like he got out through the fire escape. Bradford is dead. We need to get out of here.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Dr. Reid.” That familiar raspy voice sent a chill of panic up his spine. He spun around and found himself aiming his gun at you. The unsub was holding you in front of him with one arm latched around your stomach with crushing force and the other holding a gun to your temple.

“Let her go.” Reid ordered, adjusting his weapon. The unsub just laughed.

“I wouldn’t do that, Dr. Reid. We both know you aren’t a very good shot and lovely Dr. Y/L/N here wouldn’t stand a chance if you missed. So why don’t you be a nice agent and put it down.”

Spencer was frozen. He looked at your terrified face and back at the unsub’s smiling one.

“Spence,” You cried, wincing as the unsub tightened his hold. Spencer held up his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay, just don’t hurt her.” He moved slowly, setting his gun on the floor and sliding it over. The unsub kicked it far out of reach.

“Alright, I just need everybody to calm down.” He leaned his face into your neck, inhaling the smell of your hair. He watched Spencer’s fists clench and grinned. “And do exactly as I say.”

Prentiss had been oddly quiet since the hospital. The elevator in your apartment building was getting repaired, so they had to climb the four flights in uncomfortable silence. Morgan gave her an inquiring look.

“You feeling okay, Prentiss?” He asked. She seemed too lost in thought to hear him. “Prentiss?”

“Hmm?” She saw his concerned look and sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just been thinking about Y/N. What this guy did to her…”

“It’s rough stuff,” Morgan nodded solemnly. He remembered the sound of your voice over the phone. How scared and angry you were. “That’s why we’ve got to catch this guy before he gets to anybody else. And if anyone can figure out how to do that, it’s those two.” Prentiss smiled slightly.

“They are kind of a brainy power-couple, aren’t they?” They both laughed, finally reaching your floor. Her expression turned serious again. “You know, we always made plans to get a cup of coffee or lunch, but something always came up. You guys have all known her a lot longer than I have. She’s practically part of the team, and I hardly know anything about her other than she’s one of the youngest instructors at Quantico and a super genius when it comes to behavior.”

“And that she somehow got boy genius wrapped around her finger.” Morgan added, trying to lighten the mood a little. “But you should get to know her. She’s one of a kind.”

“I guess her and Reid were kind of made for each other.”

Her nice sentiment was forgotten as soon as they emerged from the stairway. Both agents grabbed their weapons and trained them at the unmoving mass on the floor. They scanned every single detail of the hallway as they approached.

“Is that…” Prentiss started grimly.

“Agent Bradford.” Morgan confirmed. Your apartment door was cracked open, but it didn’t look like it had been broken into. The window at the end of the hall was fully open, leading to the fire escape. Morgan motioned towards it and Prentiss nodded. She slowly crept through the door while he looked outside, making sure it was clear before climbing out onto the fire escape. The platform had access to one other window. The glass was broken from the outside, shattered pieces littering the carpet of your bedroom.

Prentiss opened the door, holstering her weapon once she checked the room. She looked at Morgan with a sickened expression.

“You better come see this.”

Morgan carefully climbed in, making sure not to disturb any evidence. He followed Prentiss out to the living room and felt his heart sink. Sprawled across the wall were words written in blood.

“Pay Attention.” Derek read angrily. He wanted to put his fist through every bloody letter. “We took, what, ten minutes to get over here?”

“He knows how to work fast, that’s for sure.” Prentiss scanned the room. She had to treat this like any other crime scene. She walked around while Morgan called Hotch to get some back up.

The kitchen table had a chair pulled out and the beginnings of a pot of tea were left stranded on the counter. Scuff marks from the chair likely meant that it had been pushed away from the table quickly. The body in the hall had both gunshot wounds and a stab wound to the side.

“So if I’m the unsub, I must have approached Bradford without him pulling his gun, so I look like I belong.” She made the motions as she spoke, trying to get into the killer’s head. “I know I can’t take him down without a fight, so I stab him in the side and grab his gun, shooting him twice in the chest.”

“Reid and Y/N hear the shots, one of them stands up and scuffs the floor.” Morgan added, putting himself into the scene. “If I’m Reid, I’ve got the weapon. I’m going to go check out the sound and keep Y/N away from the door.” He walked across the room and stepped into the hallway. “I see Bradford’s body and the window open so I’m going to go back in and get Y/N the hell out of here.”

“But Y/N had to have heard the glass break in the bedroom.” Prentiss pointed out. “But if I’m already at the front door, I’ve taken out the security, why don’t I just come that way? Why go out onto the fire escape and break in through the bedroom window?” Both agents were quiet for a moment, trying to get a clear view of the situation. Morgan spoke first.

“Because you want to get to Y/N without confronting Reid. That way you can use her to control him.”

“So I’ve got my gun on her and I make you slide yours over here.” Prentiss pointed to the abandoned pistol next to her foot.

“And make me write that.” Morgan added, looking at the message on the wall. He looked around the room for any kind of clue Reid could have left. “Reid knew we were coming. He’d try and tell us something.”

There, on the table beside the couch, was another spot of red. Morgan pointed to it and Prentiss grabbed a glove out of her pocket to pick it up. The paper had a red thumbprint next to a few scribbles of writing.

“They look like Y/N’s notes.” She held them up so Morgan could see them.

“Look at that. She wrote these for her guest seminar at Georgetown three days ago.” He ran a hand down his face. “When Reid told us about the phone call he got from the unsub Reid said that he told him ‘He learned from the best.’”

“You think he was talking about Dr. Y/L/N’s class?”

“Reid put this here for a reason. He wanted to make sure we saw it.” He took out his phone and dialed Garcia. “If we can find out who was in that class, we find Reid and Y/N.”

You were both in cages. Yours sat adjacent to the one Spencer was in but your cage had a moldy, piece of cloth that could have been a blanket at one point in the corner. You made the connection and scrambled to the farthest corner away from it.

“Oh god,” You put a hand over your mouth to cover the sound of your heavy breathing. Your mind started to go into a panic. You were going to die. This man was going to torture and kill you and then dump your body for other agents to find and study and dissect. A quiet groan broke you out of your thoughts. Spencer. He was going to kill Spencer. He turned over, eyes slowly opening. You reached your arm through the bars, desperate to touch him, to feel him just one more time.

“Can you see anything?” He asked quietly, slowly crawling towards you. Other than the lights hanging over the cages, the room itself was pitch black. Judging from the echo, you knew you had to be in some kind of warehouse or workshop.

“No, I can’t see anything. I can’t see anything.” Your breathing was picking up as the panic fully set in. Spencer finally reached you, grabbing your hand and putting it against his cheek.

“You can see me.” His thumb gently rubbed the back of your hand. “Just look at me. Look at me, Y/N.” He was just able to get his hands through the bars and put them on your shoulders. “We’re going to be okay. The team will find us.”

“How, Spence?” You cried, the dark shade of hopelessness washing over you. “They don’t know anything about this monster and- and we don’t know where we are-”

“He was in your class.”

“They don’t know that. How are they going to figure out who he is let alone where to find us?”

“I showed it to them. It wasn’t much, but I know that Morgan and Prentiss will understand.” Through his hopeful tone you could still hear it. The fear. He was terrified.

Spencer wasn’t tough like Morgan or cool and collected like Prentiss. He couldn’t turn off his emotions the way that Hotch could. The only thing keeping him from breaking down was you. Your hand fell from his cheek to his neck. He was wearing some kind of collar, a chain connecting him to something outside the cage.

“Spence, we have to get that off of you.” As soon as you said it, he was yanked backyards, a choked cry escaping his mouth. The chain pulled him against the bars, his arms still reaching out for you as it crushed his windpipe. “Stop it!” You shrieked into the dark. “Leave him alone! Please! Stop it! Spencer!”

The chain slackened and he fell to the floor, gasping painfully for air.

“You’d be surprised at the amount of things you can make with elevator parts.” The unsub had appeared behind you, leaning his forehead against the bars of your cage with a smile spreading across his lips. “Fun, huh?”

He dangled a key from his fingers, swinging it back and forth in front of you before he started to unlock your cell.

“Leave… her… alone.” Spencer coughed, slowly making his way back towards you.

“You know, whenever I brought one of those other girls here, they just screamed and screamed the whole time.” The man shook his head, entering your cage one step at a time, drawing out your panic. “But you aren’t going to do that, are you? You’re going to do exactly what I tell you to.” He pressed a button on the remote in his hand and Spencer was jerked back again.

“Yes!” You blurted. “I’ll do whatever you want, just leave him alone.” You had your back pressed against the metal bars, putting as much distance between the two of you as you could. He beckoned you to step forward.

“Show me my work.”

“W-what?”

“I’ve heard you teach, Dr. Y/L/N so don’t pretend to be stupid with me.” He snapped, his calm exterior cracking. He stepped towards you more aggressively but was able to regain control of himself. “Take off all those pesky bandages.”

“P-please let us go.” You pleaded. He just held up the remote again, his finger hovering over the button. “Okay, okay.” You made sure your back was to Spencer before lifting your sweater over your head and slowly peeling the bandages off of your wounds. The letters were still an irritated red color against your skin and your usual bra felt more revealing than ever. He ran a hand down your arm, bringing your shirt up his nose to breathe in your scent.

“D-don’t touch her.” Spencer cried, using the bars to pull himself up. The unsub just clicked his tongue, not even bothering to look at him.

“You should have popped the question while you had the chance, Dr. Reid.” He smirked as your eyes widened. “Oh, didn’t I mention that?” He pulled a small rectangular box from his pocket. “I found this in lover-boy’s jacket pocket. Looks like he won’t be needing it after all.” He tossed it over his shoulder and grabbed you by the back of your neck, forcing your lips to his. His hands traced over the marks he’d left on you greedily.

He was distracted and you took the opportunity to snatch the remote out of his pocket and threw it through the bars, listening to it smash into pieces under Spencer’s foot. The unsub shoved you backwards, the breath knocked out of you as you hit the ground.

“You little bitch.” He spat, his hands moving down to his belt. “Pay attention, Dr. Reid. I’ll show you how your girl is meant to be treated.”

“Put your hands up and don’t move!” Prentiss’ voice ordered, a team of agents bursting into the room. The unsub clenched his jaw and lifted up his arm, knife clenched in his hand. Prentiss pulled the trigger without hesitation.

You didn’t even give them time to reach you. You reached into the dying man’s pocket and grabbed his keys. You pushed through the other agents and unlocked the door to Spencer’s cage and had the collar off of him as quickly as you could. He could see your body shaking as you moved and you were desperately trying not to break down. He wrapped his jacket around you and pulled you into his arms.

“I’m okay.” He choked out. It was still hard to speak without his throat feeling like it was burning and now he had relieved tears welling in his eyes. “We’re okay. It’s over.”

Sitting in the hospital felt strange. You had been cleared already, but Spencer was still in as they looked at the damage to his throat. You sat leaning forward with your elbows on your knees. In your hands was the small box you had yet to open. You had grabbed it before you and Spence were taken out to the ambulances, but you hadn’t brought yourself to look inside.

“You, um… I guess you know what it is.” Spencer’s raspy voice startled you. You looked up and saw the dark bruises starting to form on his neck. “They said I’ll be okay, I just have to take it easy on the talking.”

“That won’t be easy.” You laughed lightly. He sat beside you and stared at the box.

“Have you opened it yet?” Even in his strained whisper, you could hear the disappointment. This isn’t what he wanted and now he was afraid his chance was gone for good. You shook your head.

“I thought we should do that together.” You took his hand and put it on the lid. He gave you a small smile and slowly flipped it open. Inside was a leaf. To someone else, it wouldn’t have made any sense, but seeing it brought tears to your eyes. “Is that…?”

“It’s the leaf that got caught in your hair the day we met. You walked into the BAU to assist us on a case and I grabbed it for you. I was just this weird, tall guy who pulled your hair so you gave me this strange look so I explained that there was a leaf in your hair. And then you smiled and I had never felt like I had right then before. There wasn’t a trash can or anything so I put the leaf in my pocket. I guess I’ve just held onto it ever since.”

“Spencer, this is-” You were trying to find the words, but you couldn’t.

“I was going to ask you last night when we were supposed to watch the movie.” He sighed. “It feels like a long time ago now, but I still feel the same way.” He shifted so that he was kneeling in front of you. “I always thought that if, by chance, I ever found someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, it would be because they make me feel normal. But you don’t make me feel normal.” He blinked back his own tears so he could say everything he needed to. “You make me feel like the best version of myself. And maybe it’s inappropriate after everything that has happened in these two days, but all of the pain we just went through just made me realize even more that I don’t want to spend one moment of my life without you. Dr. Y/N Y/L/N-”

“Yes.” You blurted, kneeling on the floor with him and taking his face in your hands. Spencer laughed.

“You didn’t let me even ask.”

“Right, sorry.” You brushed away the endless flow of tears that now fell down your cheeks. “Ask away, Dr. Reid.”

“Will you marry me?” The smile on his face made your whole body light up.

“Yes.” You crashed your lips into his, not caring if anyone was around to see.

The team was down the hall, beaming at each other. Even though they couldn’t hear your words, it wasn’t hard to tell what just happened. Prentiss leaned over to Morgan.

“I told you.” She grinned. “They’re made for each other.”

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

From last part (I think I got everyone, but don’t be offended if I missed you, I’m just bad at tag lists): @ takeyourleap-of-faith; @ squiggledrop; @ avidreider; @ lotties-journey-abroad; @ justfloatingthroughtime; @ bisexualwomanofcolour; @obsssedwithjustaboutanything; @jupiterdove; @ uhuhuh; @ walkingjunkdna; @ skullwithemotions; @ shigwhore; @ harry-hollands; @ cielo1984; @ slytherin-blogger; @eevee0722; @ spenceoffense; @ radtwinkie; @ absolutemarveltrash

#spencer reid x reader #blood #gore #derek morgan #criminal minds imagines #dr spencer reid #Matthew Grey Gubler #notice me #serial killers #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner

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nobodyfamousposts · 4 years ago

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Helluva Deal (Miraculous X Helluva Boss)

Well, since Miraculous crossovers with Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel are a thing now, I figured I’d write my own on how I think it would likely go. Since this IS the Helluva Boss universe, expect mentions of death and the afterlife, allusions to violence, innuendos, and general inappropriateness:

“Let me get this straight.”

Blitzo stared down the demon before him.

Said demon simply looked back, unimpressed. The little thing was small with blue skin, dorky-looking round glasses, and uneven horns. It wasn’t even a notable demon. Just a random weaker demon who somehow got the funds to pay for their services.

And normally, Blitzo was hardly one to turn down money—or a job that offered money. But this…

“You want to pay us to kidnap someone from Earth—not murder, which is in our company’s name, but kidnap. Which is decidedly more difficult and less fun.”

“Yep.”

Blitzo steepled his fingers together and held them up to his face. “And you want this person kidnapped—not so you can kill her yourself for whatever issue you may have, but because you want her to make you a jacket.”

“Yep.”

“A plain old jacket you could just get anywhere here in Hell.”

The demon gasped in offense. “It’s not just ANY jacket! It’s an MDC original piece and I want one!”

Blitzo took a breath, getting the feeling he was going to regret this.

“Why?”

This…made the demon pause and eventually shrug. “Well, I did say I would have died for an MDC jacket. And I’m dead now, so…gimme.”

Well, who was he to argue with that logic?

Although…

“That is going to require quite a bit more effort…” He started, obviously leading…

The demon gave a flat look. “I’m not paying you double. I need the rest to pay her for the jacket.”

“Why would you want to pay for it?” Blitzo demanded. “This is Hell! You’re a demon! Just steal one!”

“It’s a commission! I have to pay for it!”

Blitzo would have spit out his drink if he’d had one.

“What are you even in Hell for, anyway? You won’t kill. You won’t steal. You just want to pay some human for a jacket you could get anywhere. What’s the point of that?” He asked, giving the other demon a strange look because really, what kind of demon WANTED to pay for things?

The demon stared flatly at Blitzo, his tail flicking against the chair in apparent increasing agitation.

"Are you saying that a commission shouldn't be paid for?” The demon asked curiously, sounding a little...too polite. “Because the last guy who tried to skip out on paying for a commission died. Eyes stabbed out and everything. Do you want to risk that kind of thing happening to you?"

…

Blitzo paled.

“Oh.”

The silence lingered to the point of long past uncomfortable as the demon continued to wait for an answer and Blitzo’s not so subtle attempt to desperately press his secret security button under his desk had no effect.

This would turn out to be because of Loona disconnecting the thing due to her hangover. Though in the moment, Blitzo would choose to blame Moxie.

After a good minute of no response from his team, Blitzo started to sweat when the determined artist demon seemed to grow bored and pulled out a pencil.

He jumped to his feet.

“We’ll take the case!”

And immediately fled the room.

_______

Once on Earth, the problem came up rather quickly that they had no idea who MDC was or how to access them. The client only knew the target was a fashion designer in Paris, which narrowed it down to one city at least but still was little help when the city in question was one of the fashion capitals of the world.

Blitzo, naturally, took the lead in trying to work out a means of information gathering.

And by “naturally”, what was really meant was “horribly failing”.

“I’m telling you, the plan is foolproof. We hold someone for ransom until MDC trades herself.” Blitzo said with apparent glee.

“Sir, that would be the exact opposite of subtle and get us the wrong kind of attention!”

Moxie, for his part, was trying to come up with what he would call “sensible plans”. Millie was simply scouting the area while the two argued. Ever faithful Loona stayed behind to try using her own connections…a magazine.

Needless to say, Blitzo was the one carrying the team. Or at least in his not-so-humble opinion.

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “I don’t see you coming up with any plans, Moxie.”

The smaller demon gave his boss a disgruntled glare. “I already told you! We should just go back and ask the client for more information!”

“Hmm…” Blitzo paused, before pulling out his phone. “Hey, Loona. The client still in my office?”

“Yeup.”

Blitzo immediately closed the phone. “Yeah—nope.”

“Sir—”

“He gouged a guy’s eyes out, Moxie! I need my eyes! I’m too pretty to lose them! They frame my face!” Blitzo exclaimed, bringing his hands up to his head in a fit of dramatics. “Is that what you want, Moxie? Do you want me to lose my precious, precious eyes?”

Moxie stared at the man like he was insane. Granted, Moxie had long had doubts about his boss’s sanity, but still...

“Hey, fellas?” Millie called, interrupting the two as she waved them over to the side of the building they had set up a temporary base atop of. “Listen to this!”

Blitzo immediately headed over, with Moxie following along behind looking annoyed. As they got closer, they heard what Millie had called them over about. Blitzo leaned over and peeked into the room in question.

Below them was an open window of the building where apparently a number of teenagers were gathered within for some inexplicable reason. And in this specific room, a group of the teens were gathered around one particular girl with a large forehead and hair that appeared to be made of meat. It was this girl who had their attention.

“—really friends with MDC?” One short blonde asked, looking overly excited like Blitzo did when he got a paycheck.

“Of course!” The meat-girl replied, looking smug. “We go way back! I was even the one who encouraged him to start in fashion and inspired his Heroes line.”

Blitzo looked back up at his team. “I thought MDC was a girl?”

Moxie shrugged. “If no one knows their real identity who's to say if they're a boy or a girl?"

“What else are they saying?” Millie asked, which returned the focus to the room.

More talking from below, using words that none of the demons really understood or cared about.

“—which was why he even made the Fox outfit for me!”

“Wasn’t that design based on Rena Rouge rather than Volpina?” One other girl with blue hair asked from the doorway of the room. She appeared to be rather annoyed for some odd reason.

The meat-girl looked somber. “Well, that was before he had to change it. After all, as bold as he is, not many people would support an akuma line, even if he had kept my idea to donate the funds to charity for the victims.”

The group “oo”-ed over the girl and praised her for her thoughtfulness. The meat-girl preened at the attention. The bluenette rolled her eyes. Some other blond guy looked on in disappointment.

“How amazing!” The little blonde exclaimed, clasping her hands to her cheeks. “I’d love to be able to meet MDC!”

“So would we!”

All eyes fell to the window which Blitzo, Millie, and Moxie used to make their entrance.

Honestly, he thought it was one of his better displays of dramatics. It certainly warranted some applause. Or screams of fear. Maybe one fainting.

“Akuma!”

Honestly, he was rather disappointed by the underwhelming response.

“I know we're demons and all, but I thought this place was French, not Japanese!"

“Nevermind that.” Blitzo replied to his workers before stepping forward to face the students.

Or rather one student in particular.

“Greetings! I am Blitzo. The two behind me are Millie and Moxie.”

The class stared as one of the two glared at them while the other waved cheerfully—or would be considered cheerfully if her teeth weren’t so razor sharp.

“We represent IMP, a for-hire group out of Hell. We take contracts, complete tasks, and make wishes come true!”

The teens looked at the demons in wariness and confusion.

“That sounds nice…” The little blonde in pink said.

“Those wishes generally involve murder.”

“I take it back! That sounds horrible!”

Blitzo grinned. “We are the ‘Immediate Murder Professionals’, dealing with the unfinished business of those poor wretched souls who are seeking some small vindication in their current status in Hell.”

“Then…why are you here?” The bigger male demanded.

Blitzo ignored him in favor of his true target.

“You! Ugly girl!” He shouted, grabbing the meat-girl.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, insulted.

He shook her. “Take us to MDC and we’ll rip out those sausage-links you call hair!”

“…don’t you mean ‘or’?”

He grinned ferally.

“No.”

She shrieked in fear.

“Lila!” Others cried out in horror.

Ah, yes. There was the fear. This, Blitzo was good with. It made him feel better about the previous lackluster response to his entrance.

“Why do you want me?!” The girl—Lila shouted, looking panicked. “I don’t know where MDC is!”

He raised an eyebrow at this. “But you said you were friends.”

She glanced around, taking note of the fact that her cohorts were still in the room. Though he didn’t know why that should matter for her answer.

“We are! But…I don’t know where he lives now! He’s moved since his name got out there and hasn’t given me the address yet!”

A glasses-wearing girl frowned in confusion. “But didn’t you just say that he invited you to his house for fittings?”

“Yeah, you said it was for the latest line that just came out.” Another girl with multi-colored hair added.

“That was months ago. Before he moved.” Lila replied quickly. “So I can’t help you.”

“Sure, you can!” Blitzo replied jovially. “We can just use you as ransom until MDC agrees to hand himself over.”

Moxie approached the two, keeping his gun leveled at the other kids. “We can save some time and see if she can’t call him.”

“Hey, yeah!” Millie agreed, grabbing Lila’s bag off of her and searching for her phone. “If they’re friends, she’s gotta have his contact info!”

“It’s not in there!” Lila replied quickly. “I was worried someone would steal my phone to get his info so I don’t keep his number in my phone!”

Millie frowned, before holding the now open phone up to Lila. “Then just type in the number yourself.”

Lila glanced around the room in growing agitation. “I can’t! I don’t have it memorized!”

“Then where did you write it down?”

“I lost it!”

The demons were looking particularly vexed.

“When and where?”

“It was a while ago. I don’t know where.” Lila replied.

A girl with glasses looked at her in confusion. “But didn’t you say you just called him this morning to congratulate him on the new line? And that he promised you a free outfit as thanks for all your help?”

Lila paled. “I—”

“Then the number should still be in the phone under its call history.” Moxie noted. Millie grinned and looked back to the phone screen to look through the data.

“I deleted it right after!” Lila shouted desperately.

Millie looked up at her in irritation.

Then promptly crushed the phone in her grip.

Lila shrieked, though it would be up for debate as to whether it was in shock at the loss of her phone or in fear that she may soon share that same fate.

Blitzo seemed similarly put out, but ended up shrugging it off as he pulled Lila closer to him. “Then it’s back to Plan A to hold her for ransom. Or torture her to see if she can’t remember the details.”

“No, please!”

“Lila!”

“Let her go!”

Lila grabbed at the arm holding her, panicked but not enough beyond reasoning. She couldn’t afford to reveal she lied now. She could only hope that these monsters would take her somewhere private where she could manipulate them with less witnesses.

Marinette, for her part, was also analyzing the situation.

These were three unknowns. Definitely not akumas. If they were to be believed, they were actual demons. From Hell. Which existed, apparently. And was where Lila would likely find herself in the next hour if she kept this up.

But from Lila’s expression, it seemed she was insistent on staying tight-lipped about her lies. Marinette figured as much due to her history. But she would have thought that Lila would have had some measure of self-preservation. Though perhaps that only applied to the preservation of her lies and manipulations rather than her own well being.

It was clear that Lila wasn’t going to get herself out of this. Not in any way that would spare her and everyone else in the room, at any rate.

As it was, the classmates were about to rally in Lila’s defense. While they had stood their own against akumas in the past,Marinette didn’t want to see how well they would fare against demons. Nor did she want to have to test if the Miraculous Cure would be enough to fix whatever would be left of them if they tried.

Marinette looked to the doorway.

No one was paying any attention to her right now. She could escape. She could go out, find a place to transform, and come back to deal with these…demons.

But by the time she returned, who was to say what could happen. The demons could kill Lila. They could kill all of her friends for being witnesses.

Ladybug may not be able to fix this.

But Marinette…as Marinette, she could.

“I’m MDC.” Marinette admitted.

Everyone froze.

“Come again.”

“MDC.” Marinette enunciated. “It stands for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. My name. I’m MDC. I’m the one you want.”

Alya stared. “Girl?”

Moxie looked at her in consideration. “That would fit with the client’s report of MDC being female.”

Millie, frowned in suspicion. “How do we know she’s really MDC?”

Marinette took a breath and slowly pulled out her tablet. “Well, my signature is in the clothes, so if you’ll let me pull up one of the shots, I can point it out and—”

Blitzo cut her off, grabbing her arm. “Yeah, I think we’ll just take you both and let the client sort it out. Sound good? Good, because we’re leaving.”

“Bye all!” Millie said, waving to the group. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!”

Moxie rolled his eyes. “That’s a pretty short list…”

Blitzo ignored them an opened a portal, dragging both girls after him. Without a glance back, both Millie and Moxie followed him through the portal. Before anyone else could move, the gateway closed behind them.

A long pause followed.

“Not so fast!”

Suddenly, the door was kicked open as Chat Noir burst into the room.

The much less enemy-filled room.

“Um…did I miss the party?”

_______

The room they soon found themselves appeared, for all intents and purposes, completely normal. It looked like an office of the sort they’d find anywhere in Paris. Complete with a secretary’s desk, a few chairs, and a table littered with magazines.

The difference was made quickly apparent, however, through the view out the window. The landscape the deceptively quaint room was mostly a collage of red and black, with a sunless sky above and a myriad of strange buildings. Also of note where the various denizens of…distinctly non-human appearance wandering the streets outside.

“All right, ladies! Welcome to Hell!” Blitzo announced with a flourish, causing the girls to pale.

Lila fell back with a screech, landing on her butt and immediately attempting to scuttle back away. Her path was quickly halted as she bumped into something. Looking up, that “something” was actually a wolf monster, making Lila panic even further.

Loona, for her part, was not having a good morning—ignoring, of course, that it was actually the afternoon. And as if it wasn’t bad enough that her hangover still hadn’t cleared, now some…thing had shoved into her, followed shortly by an ear-piercing shriek that only made her head feel worse.

Seeing the way the wolf demon growled, Lila opened her mouth, possibly to scream even more when Marinette quickly shoved a hand over her mouth with a smile to Loona.

“Oh my! Your hairstyle is quite lovely!” She lied. Blatantly lied to the wolf girl’s face.

“It’s bed-head.”

“I couldn’t even tell. It looks so sleek and shiny!”

“Whatever.” Loona grumbled and stormed off to the break room, slamming the door behind her (and then immediately regretting it due to the noise agitating her headache).

Marinette decided to take the initiative. “So…what do you want with us, anyway?”

“Our client paid us a pretty penny—”

“Basic contract.” Moxie interrupted.

“Pretty. Penny.” Blitzo continued as if he hadn’t heard. “For a chance to meet with MDC.”

Okay, they had mentioned that before.

“Then what?”

“If you are MDC, you can do whatever the client is wanting. If you’re not, you’ll at least make for a decent distraction while we escape and blow up the building.”

The humans in the room blanched at that.

“WHAT?!”

“I know. She was a beautiful building.” Blitzo said mournfully as he actually wiped a tear from his eye. “And I just got my office arranged how I like it, too. But it

Marinette stared.

Lila whimpered.

“I second that ‘what’.” Moxie interrupted. “Nobody at any point discussed blowing up the building!”

“It was on page 3 of the handout I gave you this morning, Moxie.” Blitzo exclaimed, covering his eyes in exasperation. “At least read the mission briefings!”

“Sir, the ‘handout’ was a paper napkin. There was no third page!” Moxie insisted.

Beside him, Millie for her part was looking over the aforementioned napkin for the part that was supposed to mention the circumstances in question…or really any of the plan.

“We’ll discuss it later.” Blitzo said over his shoulder to Moxie as he proceeded to grab both human girls and drag them over to a previously closed door.

“Hey wait—!”

“Hang on!”

Within seconds, Blitzo opened the door and proceeded to shove both girls through before slamming it shut behind them, the last thing they heard being him mentioning where to buy explosives.

_______

So.

Recap.

Hell was real. Demons were a thing. And the two human girls were getting a first hand view of the less than pleasant or holy side of the afterlife.

Marinette was…actually taking it all in stride.

Lila was less so. She was sitting ramrod straight in the chair, keeping a tight grip on her knees and trying very hard not to move as her eyes glanced quickly around the room at the assembled demons.

Marinette actually felt bad for her. And probably should have been panicking herself, all things considered. Maybe she would have been had it not been for her extensive experience as Ladybug.

Sure, it was Hell, but floating gods and people turning into monsters had already broadened her horizons of the possibilities of the universe. Plus despite the name of the company that had kidnapped them both, murder didn’t appear to be on the table. All in all, despite the circumstances, Marinette didn’t feel that scared.

The fact that the “client” in question who hired the group was actually a fan of hers wanting a commission helped quite a bit with that.

As did the flattery.

“OMG! OMG! I can’t believe it! It’s you! Can I get your autograph?! No—wait! I need to focus! Can I get a jacket with your autograph?!”

“Thank you.” Marinette said, somewhat flustered. Honestly, she hadn’t thought she had gained THAT much fame. Especially not enough for someone to want to commission her from the afterlife.

…was that a thing? Could that be a thing?

“What I don’t get is why the other girl had to tag along?” The demon asked, curiously. “Is she your assistant or something?”

Lila brightened, looking ready to speak—likely to try to lie her way out of this. Or mess up what little peace Marinette had managed to create.

“No!” Marinette interrupted quickly, ignoring Lila’s petulant glare. “No, she’s not. There was just a mix up since they didn’t know where I was or who to bring.”

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Well, how were we supposed to know?!”

“You could have asked me when I contracted you.” Said the demon, somewhat annoyed.

“I have a website, you know.” Said Marinette, very annoyed.

They paused.

“…the fuck’s a website?”

Silence.

Marinette coughed. “In any case, you wanted to commission me?”

“Oh, yes!”

_______

It didn’t take long to make the arrangements. Marinette named her prices and the demon was more than willing to pay her for her services. They made use of Blitzo’s office to negotiate and fine tune some details regarding the arrangement. From determining the materials to writing up the contract to negotiating the costs, it was all pretty professional.

And ultimately involved the humans not being murdered and the building not being blown up, which was always preferable.

It finally came down to determining just how the demon customer wanted the jacket to look, and Marinette started drawing out some sample sketches on spare paper in the office that may or may not have been important documents for Blitzo which she may or may not have particularly cared given the whole “kidnapping and being used as a sacrifice” matter.

The only issue seemed to be that the demon customer wanted the jacket to be made of materials that were only available in Hell. Which made sense, she supposed, since she wasn’t sure how long anything she made on Earth would last in this environment. Millie and Moxie had been sent out to gather the necessary material in question, and what they returned with was a strange sort of leather. It was unique and of a color she had never seen before, and part of her really wanted to get a bit more detail about the make.

…given how pale Lila had already gotten, Marinette kindly decided to refrain from asking questions.

“Well then, let’s go over a few sketches and determine which one you like.”

The demon looked almost giddy at the prospect. The IMP team looked relieved. Except Blitzo, who still seemed to be pouting over their takeover of his office.

Lila was…less enthused. “WHAT?! What are you thinking?! He’s a demon!”

Marinette shrugged. “Well, I do have a non-discrimination clause.”

“That shouldn’t apply to demons!” Lila hissed lowly.

“The demons who have brought us to Hell and are currently our only way of getting back.” Marinette pointed out, dryly.

Lila huffed and went back to her chair.

So, with Blitzo and his team begrudgingly kindly being forced willing to donate their office for her use, Marinette sent to work to try and design a jacket to the client’s taste as quickly as possible.

The sooner she got done, the sooner they could go back to Earth.

…hopefully.

Lila, for her part, was terrified and miserable and just wanting to go back to Earth. Immediately would be preferable. Even without Marinette.

Yeah, thanks Lila.

“Why do I have to stay here? Why can’t I go back home? Or do anything else?”

The client tilted his head. “Are you saying you don’t like art? Because the last person who told me they didn’t like art had their eyes stabbed out. With pencils. Would you want that to happen to you?”

“…can’t I like art and not stay in Hell?”

“No.”

Lila paled and sunk lower in her seat, where she remained quiet for the next couple of hours while Marinette worked.

It was mostly in silence as Marinette drew one sketch after another. Asking occasional questions about preferred length, how many pockets, special embellishments, and which parts of the various jacket styles did he prefer. Eventually, they had come to an agreement about the set look he wanted, the materials needed, and when he wanted it completed by. And from there came the matter of payment…

“Um…I’m not sure what the exchange rate is for Hell currency.” Marinette said, looking at the coins he handed her.

The demon frowned, tilting his head in consideration. “I could always rob a human bank and pay you with that.”

Marinette paled.

“This is fine. Really. I can probably buy some things from Hell with this.” She said with a forced smile.

“There are tons of things you can only find here.” Millie said, brightening. “We could deliver them for you!”

Well, that was a good point.

“That’s true.” Moxie agreed. “You could make other things with the fabrics here. Hats. Shirts.”

He paused, looking over his shoulder at Millie who was busy chatting with the customer regarding the fabric he chose. Seeing she was suitably distracted, he turned to Marinette. “So…how much would it be to make a dress. Just out of curiosity.”

Aww. Even in Hell there was love.

She smiled. “We can certainly discuss it.”

The moment was ruined as Blitzo stepped in and slung an arm around Marinette’s shoulder.

“How about one of those sexy maid outfits for the bedroom? You’re French, right?” He asked before giving Moxie a nudge. “You could stand to have a little more fun in the bedroom.”

“Sir, I’m 14.” Marinette replied dryly.

“And what we do in the bedroom is none of your business!” Moxie rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t we just have a discussion about this last week?”

Marinette coughed as the two started to argue. “So…um…are we going to return to Earth so I can start working on this?”

Blitzo sighed. “Fine, fine. Killjoys.”

Lila heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God.”

_______

With an agreement forged between Marinette and IMP to have the customer’s order completed and delivered within two week’s time, Marinette and Lila were safely deposited back in their classroom no worse for wear.

…well, physically. Mentally, there were probably going to be a few scars.

Several of their classmates had apparently remained since the earlier incident. Perhaps it was out of worry? Or maybe classes had resumed after their disappearance—akuma attacks and strange circumstances had become rather common, after all.

Still, it was Alya’s cry of surprise and then being pulled into a hug that assured Marinette she was, in fact, back home.

“You’re back!” Alya exclaimed, relieved. “We were so worried!”

It wasn’t every day your best friend and classmate was dragged to Hell, after all.

“—and I’d been trying to reach out to Ladybug and Chat Noir, but only Chat showed up and Ladybug must be busy or maybe she already knew? Did she help you? How did you escape?”

Part of her wondered if Alya had even stopped to breathe. The rest of her was just basking in the happiness that they had made it back safe and nothing too terrible had happened in the meantime.

The absolute LAST thing she needed was to come back and find out Hawk Moth had let loose another akuma that destroyed Paris while she was gone.

Alya suddenly gasped as though struck by a thought.

“Oh my god, Marinette! I can’t believe you did that!”

Marinette smiled. “Well, I had to—”

“You claimed to be MDC just to protect Lila! And here I thought you hated her!”

Happy feeling gone. Gone like a punch to the face. Knocked out. Dead, even.

Alya beamed. “I’m so proud of you, girl! I knew deep down that—”

“Nope!” Came a quick interruption. “That’s not what happened. It was just a lie. Completely and utterly.”

The interruption was half expected.

The fact that it came from Lila was not.

Everyone froze.

“What?”

“I never met MDC.” Lila explained, wasting absolutely no time with subtleties and just blurting it out. “I never knew Marinette was MDC. I just lied about knowing him because I thought he was the next big thing and I knew you would all believe me.”

“…what?”

Lila sighed. “I lied about knowing MDC. And being the muse behind his fashion line—well, hers. Since Marinette is MDC. She never lied. I did.”

The classmates were startled, but seemed to be taking in the information.

Rose, for her part, tried to be positive. “Oh...well, you didn’t have to lie about knowing MDC—”

“No, I mean about everything. Ever. In fact, there’s probably not a single time we’ve known each other that I was ever honest with any of you.”

Everyone stared.

“I’ve been lying since the moment we’ve met.” Lila continued. “I am a liar. Always have been. I am a horrible lying liar who lied about everyone I ever claimed to know and everything I ever said I did just to get you all to admire me because it was easier to manipulate you that way and get you to do things I wanted. From interviewing me for the Ladyblog to carrying my lunch tray to buying me things. I lied about having tinnitus just to get to sit next to Adrien and lied about not being interested in him to manipulate Nino into guilting him into letting me come to his house. Ladybug herself even called me out for lying. And when Marinette got upset that day I came back over the seat change? I threatened her in the bathroom because she was wise to me from the very start.”

A few stares were sent Marinette’s way. She didn’t have any explanation for them though. She was just as surprised as they were. More, even.

Lila shrugged. “Everything I’ve said. Everything I’ve done. All lies. Ever.”

Everyone gaped in shock. Nobody even really knew what to say.

Marinette started. “But why—”

“Because that was Hell, Marinette. HELL. The bad place you go to after you die, reserved for bad people. And until today, I didn’t even think it was real. Or that there could be a chance I could end up there. But I imagine if anything would warrant that, it’d be lying, manipulating, and trying to get revenge on a superhero.”

Nino blinked. “Wait…what was that last one—”

As if a great weight was lifted from her shoulders, Lila sighed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go join a convent to try and save my soul now that I know I have one.”

With that, she promptly exited the room, leaving the group staring after her in complete bewilderment.

Alya gaped. “...what?”

_________

Epilogue:

Marinette completed her commission to the demon and later for Moxie. Her fame increased in both realms and she eventually did open up her own design house. The only issue came in the customers who wanted to pay her by removing her competition, which she was mostly able to prevent until IMP took a hit on Gabriel Agreste. While Marinette did stop the attempted murder, this did still reveal his secondary identity of Hawk Moth, allowing the Butterfly and Peacock to be recovered and peace to return to Paris.

The classmates were shocked at the reveal of Lila’s true nature, but were more bewildered than anything given how it happened. They did all feel foolish and embarrassed for trusting Lila, but considering what could have happened, they all chose to take it as a life lesson to be more cautious in the future. They all remained friends and moved on to live quite fulfilling lives.

IMP formed a contract with MDC and gained a secondary job of delivery service as well as assassins, which increased their profits.

And Millie loved her new dress.

Lila Rossi convinced her mother to send her to a convent, where she became one of the most pious and devout members, spreading the message of being good in life more than any other.

#ml fic #ml crossover #marinette dupain cheng #Lila sucks #lila redemption #helluva boss

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tenthgrove · 3 years ago

Note

Yandere Bruno squad headcanons perhaps :0?

Yandere Team Buccelati

Content Warnings: Yandere behaviour, stalking, abduction

A/N: Apologies, but I've decided that I'm not really comfortable writing under 18s as yandere characters, so I'll just be doing Buccialati, Abbacchio and Mista for this one. Extra warning that this is really bad (I'm particularly not happy with Mista's section) because I wrote this late at night and didn't know what I was saying as I wrote it, so double apologies for that.

Bruno Buccelati

In spite of his occupation, Bruno has no qualms befriending the civilian population of Naples and doing good for them. He holds a profound pity for the victims of organised crime, and is eager to help where he can. So when you approach him on the street, asking for help with ridding yourself of a creepy stranger who had made it his business to follow and harass you, Bruno is quick to ensure your would-be stalker never looks your way again.

Although Bruno saw to it that you were escorted home safely, he can't help but feel some well-intentioned worry for your well-being over the coming days. He checks in on you again, which you find to be very sweet, but as the days pass by again his worry returns. Continuing to visit you would seem odd, he knows, but surely there's no harm in asking Narancia to check through your window once in a while?

At first it really is just concern for your safety, but after a while, Bruno is forced to accept that he is genuinely infatuated with you. His feelings are far too strong to simply sweep under the rug, and approaching you the normal way could put you in danger, provided it even works. He isn't going to kidnap you, that would leave him no better than the thugs he chases off of the streets, but to make you his he's going to resort to something unorthodox.

Bruno makes a few preparations. He does a few favours for your friends and family- gotta make sure they're on his side, He also checks his intel into the area's rival street gangs, since it can't hurt to have a hint of truth to the story he's going to tell. Then, armed with a few empty suitcases and a fake look of concern, he heads to your house late one night.

He announces to you that one of the rival gangs in the area has singled you out as a target for trafficking, and because of your previous interactions with him, they're dead set on taking you. Bruno assures you not to worry and helps you pack away your things, promising that you will be safe in his care while the issue with the gang is sorted out. You'll be staying in his house, of course. It's best he's right on call in case anyone tries to come after you.

Your new life in Bruno's house is a strange one. You cannot leave the house of course, except for the occasional short trip with him or his men to stop your mental health from suffering, but your internet access is unrestricted, you can call your family as much as you want, and you're allowed to buy anything you'd like with your money (or better, have him buy it for you). You have your own room, but Bruno often asks to come in and sit with you late at night. It's all for your comfort, of course.

After a couple of months, Bruno's excuses to keep you longer will start to run out as you start to wonder why he hasn't eliminated the street gang yet. The hope is that by this point, you would have already fallen for Bruno's charm and started to love him, but barring this, he'll simply buy more time by making up more reasons why it's unsafe for you to go home.

But, if all else fails, and you begin to insist on leaving... well, Bruno didn't want to do this, but he can't just let you go. You're locked in your room, windows barred as Bruno explains to you calmly that this is all for your own good. You can come out any time you want, Amore. All you have to do is promise to stay.

Leone Abbacchio

Despite his occasionally cold demeanour, Abbacchio is no stranger to the want for companionship and affection. In fact, it's fair to say he needs it, and that going so long without tenderness has left him empty, miserable and disillusioned. But it's only a matter of time before somebody reawakens his need for warmth.

Both of you were having a bad day. You were downtrodden and lamentful, and as sad people tend to do together, you shared your angsts together as you sat at the bus stop, neither of you caring that this was the first time you'd even seen each other.

Abbacchio does not want the conversation to end. So when the bus arrives, he gets a ticket to your stop instead, and sits with you, continuing to talk. He is sad when you say goodbye. He knows he needs to see you again. He thinks nothing of lingering to see which street you turn onto as you walk home.

Abbacchio gets to work right away. He needs to have you, but cannot see you ever falling for someone like him. Not through normal means instead. His thoughts turn to abduction, but the image of you begging and crying as he drags you to his car saddens him. He knows he could never hurt you that badly. He needs to find a half-way point, between force and natural love.

The first thing he does, once his mind is made up, is go to your boss. Using Passione's name, he quickly convinces them to fire you without any question as to why. It is a similar story with your landlord a few days later. Any friends or relatives who might take you in are also sent a warning phone-call.

You know full-well what has happened. You knew at the time your one-time companion on the bus was a mafioso, his story made that clear. You beat yourself up every minute for not avoiding him then and there. And now, as misfortune after misfortune strikes you, everyone who bears you bad news has the same white-haired stranger to speak of. When, on your first night on the streets, a tall figure approaches you from the black car, you do not feel any surprise.

Both you and Abbacchio know what he is here for, so he does not explain much. He sombrely instructs you to get in the car if you don't want to be stuck on the streets any longer, promising that he will not do you any harm if you comply. He has already struck out every other option for possibly helping yourself. You have little choice but to go with him.

You do not expect much when you arrive at Abbacchio's house, but instead you find all your old possessions lined up for you to decorate your room with. After quickly explaining where the bathroom is and which foods from the kitchen are free for taking, he goes to bed, advising that you do the same. You are completely, and utterly perplexed.

Abbacchio forces little conversation on you in the early weeks. Most of the time, he is out doing work, leaving you with free reign of his house. Soon, you do not feel at all as though you were forced to be here. You dare say your life is better here than it was before. Abbacchio's friends occasionally visit, making sure that Leone isn't mistreating you and you're fully happy here. Eventually, Abbacchio relents to letting you reopen communications with your friends. You cannot say you have anything to complain about.

The only question, is what Abbacchio ever wanted from you. It's so strange how he went to all these lengths to take you only to largely ignore you. The truth is, he's waiting for you to open up to him of your own free will. As he lies in bed alone at night, he dreams of you coming into his room, asking if he can hold you for a minute.

Mista

Guido Mista has dated a few times in the past, and he isn't interested in letting Passione stop him from continuing. It doesn't matter how you met him, just that after a few encounters you began to date, and were very happy with your new beau. You worked well together, what else is there to say?

But after your second date, Buccialati received word of your existence and was concerned. He isn't exactly going to force you to stop dating, Mista is an adult after all and can do as he pleases. But Buccelati wants to make sure you know what you're getting into.

Paying you a visit, Buccelati explains to you that your new boyfriend is involved with the mafia, and continuing to see him will involve certain risks. He is happy for you to take these risks, so long as you are aware of their existence. You thank him for him time, and immediately proceed to shut off all communication with Mista without explanation.

After a brief shouting match with Buccelati once Mista realises what he's done, he marches over to your house to plead with you to take him back. You stand your ground, that Mista lied to you and you refuse to be involved with criminals, but Mista isn't giving up.

The argument escalates. You slam the door in his face. Mista goes home and despairs. You were the best he's ever had, and now he's supposed to accept that you're just... gone?! No... all you need is a little more time. Mista turns right around and heads back to your house. This time, he isn't letting up for anything.

It goes much further than he intended. In a split-moment of instinct, Mista draws his gun and threatens you into letting him in. He really didn't mean to scare you like that, but his emotions are running high right now and he doesn't know how else to make you listen.

So, here you are now, a hostage in your own home, because your barely boyfriend couldn't let you go. In the ultimatum the two of you made after he threatened you, you ended up agreeing not to leave the house at all for the time since he was scared you'd try to run.

Mista doesn't stay with you all the time, but he visits you daily to bring you things and try to repair the relationship. To his credit, he hasn't threatened you at all since the initial incident and seems to regret it intently, but forgiving him is difficult after what he did.

Your commitments are mysteriously all taken care of, your boss inexplicably granting you a long period of furlough at full pay. Buccelati wasn't kidding when he said the group Mista was part of was powerful. You shudder to think of what else he could do.

#team buccellati #team bucciarati #bruno buccellati #bruno buccerati #bruno buccelati x reader #bruno buccerati x reader #leone abbacchio #leone abbacchio x reader #Guido Mista #guido mista x reader #yandere cw #stalking cw #abduction cw

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justmypartner · 4 years ago

Text

Safe - 8x14 Speculation Fic

Writer’s Note: The idea for this came from the 8x14 synopsis, and while it technically still is a speculation fic, I don’t imagine the episode happening exactly like this. However, I did use what I’ve seen from bts photos and videos, as well as things Tracy has said in interviews to develop some of the scenes/details. This is probably my favorite piece that I’ve written in a while, so I hope you enjoy & thank you for reading!

Hailey rustled through her closet looking for her black wedged boots, trying her best to hurry as she knew Jay was waiting for her in the kitchen. She wasn’t much of a boot with a heel kind of girl, but she and Jay had special plans and she wanted to look nicer than usual. While they had been together for months, that night was the first time they were going on a proper date. They each decided at the beginning of their relationship that with both of their histories, they wanted to keep things simple and to themselves, which meant a lot of take-out and a lot of nights alone in their apartments. However, after Hailey mentioned something in passing about their clandestine time together starting to feel restrictive, Jay made plans at a fancy restaurant where he knew they wouldn’t run into any of their fellow team members.

“I don’t mean to rush you, but our reservation is in 45 minutes and it will take us about 30 to get there,” Jay said softly, peeking his head around the door frame.

“I know, I know. I’m trying to- finally!” she shouted upon finding the boots in the corner of her closet. She brought a knee into her chest as she pulled a boot onto her foot before switching to the other leg and doing the same.

“Okay, I just need to get my phone and wallet and then I’ll be-“ her words were cut short as she caught sight of him for the first time that evening. He was wearing a dress shirt with a light jacket, and his dark jeans curled over the top of a pair of black dress boots. It was much different from his typical, rugged workwear, but she took note of how well the look suited him.

“Wow you clean up nice, Halstead,” she told him with a dimpled smile as he blushed, extending a hand down to help her rise from the floor. Once she was standing, the small space between them closed quickly as she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing her lips to his briefly. While the heels added extra height, she still needed to raise on her tiptoes to meet his mouth.

“Not too bad yourself, Detective,” he uttered as her lips pulled away. His hands grasped her waist, holding her steady as she remained on her toes. They stayed pressed against one another for a moment looking into each other’s eyes, and just when he was about to go in for another kiss, she fell on her heels and pressed the tips of her fingers against his chest.

“Normally, I would indulge in this further, but we’re going to miss our reservation and I’m starving,” she teased, moving past him to retrieve her phone, keys, and wallet, along with her jacket slung over the back of the couch.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Hailey was charmed by how nice it was. It was far different from the usual dive bars and pubs they went to after work, and part of her even felt like it was too nice for them to be at.

“Halstead, party of 2,” he told the hostess, holding up 2 fingers with the hand that wasn’t intertwined with Hailey’s.

A stifled smile came across her face and she nodded her head towards the floor as they waited for someone to guide them to their table. It seemed surreal to be standing in the middle of a fancy restaurant with him, holding his hand and waiting to be seated for a romantic dinner. She couldn’t tell if it was because of how long she secretly pined over him or if it was because being with Jay felt like her first real love story, but there were many moments when being with him felt like some fantasy, and that moment was one of them. At one point in time, being with him was something she only dreamt about. It was a thought that crossed her mind when his gaze lingered a little longer than it should or when an accidental touch sent her heart racing. Before they took that leap, she worried being with him would mean giving up being his partner. It was that fear that made her keep her feelings bottled up for so long, but as they proved time and time again, as partners, as lovers, and as both - they were good together. She turned her head and placed a light kiss on his shoulder. It was a tangible reminder that he was hers to kiss, but it also grounded her in that moment that felt like just another dream.

The dinner itself was incredible. Hailey officially added the restaurant to her list of favorite food spots in Chicago, and they spent the entire meal giggling and sharing stories they had never shared before. By the end of it, Jay was stuffed, but Hailey insisted they order a dessert, her sweet tooth getting the best of her. Jay teased her for ordering the lava cake, the most indulgent option on the menu, but she was able to tease him right back when he asked the waiter for a second spoon when it was brought to the table.

Just as Jay was about to pay the check, his phone began to ring, Voight’s name popping up across the screen as he pulled out his wallet.

“Uh oh,” Hailey said as he picked it up to answer. Jay spoke with their boss briefly, mainly nodding his head and muttering brief affirmations every few seconds.

“I think she’s out tonight, but I can call her and swing by to pick her up wherever she is,” Jay said, shooting Hailey a wide-eyed look as he quickly came up with an excuse as to why they’d be riding in together all dressed up.

“Alright hot stuff, as much as I’d like to keep this night going, it seems we caught a case,” he told her, as he stood from his chair. He took out his wallet, counting out enough money to cover the check and tip before resting the bills under his glass on the table.

“At least we made it through dessert,” she said, sending him a childlike smile.

“Oh, that was dessert? I had something else in mind for that,” he replied smugly, Hailey’s face turning bright red at his suggestive words.

“Oh really?” She questioned, taking a step towards him to close the gap between them. “You’d better clean up that mind before we get to the scene,” she whispered with a chuckle, twirling around swiftly and making her way towards the door as he shook his head at her tease. His hand found the small of her back as they made their way out the door, and he placed a kiss against her temple, knowing it would probably be the last display of affection he could show before they had to enter partner mode.

When they arrived at the house, Kevin and Voight were outside talking to a few patrol officers. Hailey’s mood had changed drastically upon arriving at the scene. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt uneasy as she jumped out of the truck and secured her badge and gun to her hip.

As they approached, Kevin pursed his lips together and let out a two-tone whistle as he caught sight of Hailey.

“Damn girl, sorry to pull you away from whatever had you all cleaned up,” he told her, cocking his head to the side as she shook her head at him with a smirk. Her eyes caught sight of Voight’s as they darted between her and Jay and she became nervous, imagining that he was putting two and two together. She decided to change the subject quickly before any further comments could ensue.

“Oh, shut up,” she told him. “What do we got?” She asked, spinning her head around the scene and taking in the myriad of patrol cars.

“I think it’s something you have to unfortunately see for yourself. I do have to say, you might want to brace yourself for this one,” he said, turning to lead them inside. Jay and Hailey met eyes, sharing a look of concern before turning and following Kevin and Voight inside.

Walking through the front door, they collectively grimaced at the overwhelming smell of blood that tinged their noses. They hesitantly made their way deeper into the house and Hailey’s heart dropped when she caught sight of a family of four, a couple and their two kids, all tied up and shot dead on the living room floor. That uneasy feeling from before suddenly made sense. She clenched her jaw, groaning at the sight as she looked away, recognizing the same unsettled look in the face of each of her fellow officers.

“What the hell happened here?” Jay asked, looking over at Kevin for the answer.

“This is the second home invasion robbery in this neighborhood this week. Robbery-homicide has been working these guys since the first one, but so far they’ve come up with no leads. Whoever these guys are, they’re professionals. It’s a two-man crew, they come in through the back, dressed head to toe in dark attire, get what they need, kill the family, and get out. They’re in and out in less than 10 minutes and they’ve got a getaway driver who knows how to avoid traffic cameras. Robbery-homicide tells me these guys killed a family of three earlier this week, and that the dad had bruises on his body in addition to the gunshot wound that killed him. Now, what’s interesting is in this case, the mom is the one with these bruises. These families were definitely targeted, we’re just not sure how or why,” he explained causing them each to frown.

While Kevin explained the case, Hailey fell silent as the details brought her back to a string of cases she had worked during her time in robbery-homicide. She spent weeks chasing after a crew targeting families who had shopped at a high-end jewelry store, only that connection was missed for the first half of the investigation. By the time she and her team had finally caught on to why the families were being targeted, four families had already been killed, five kids below the age of ten among the victims. Hailey beat herself up for months knowing if they had caught onto the pattern sooner, they could have saved more of the families - more of the kids. This case sounded eerily similar, and she was bound to not let history repeat itself.

“How’d we catch this if robbery-homicide was on it?” Jay asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as his gaze intentionally avoided the gruesome scene before them.

“Miller assigned it to us. She wanted a fresh pair of eyes. She’s getting a lot of heat from the press about there being no leads, especially since this is a high-end neighborhood. Plus, these guys have already killed three tender-aged kids. I want the animals on a stick,” Voight replied straightly.

“Do we know what they’re after?” Hailey asked, her brain already working to establish a connection.

“No, and that’s what’s given our robbery-homicide guys so much trouble. The only connection is that both families have had pretty high-tech safes somewhere in the house. Last house it was in a bedroom closet, but this one was in the basement. It seems like these guys make their way in, beat the location and combo of the safe out of one of the parents, get what they need, and off the entire family before hauling ass out,” Kevin told them.

“Well, I’ve worked cases like this one before. If we’re going to get anywhere, we need to figure out what it was they wanted and how they knew about it. We’re on a time crunch now, because it’s only a matter of time before these guys strike again,” she said, turning and leaving the house without waiting for any of their responses.

After leaving the scene, they all made their way back to the district to go over the files robbery-homicide had sent over. They browsed over the files for a couple of hours before Voight sent them home, needing them to rest up and refresh before they dove completely into the case the next day. The familiarity of the case was itching at Hailey, but as much as she wanted to see something that everyone else was missing, she came up short in every place she looked.

The next morning, she and Jay got coffee together. She had been quiet since they caught the case. Jay picked up on her shift in mood that occurred from the restaurant to the scene, but he left it alone to give her the space she seemed to need. He eventually built up the nerve to ask what was wrong. She told him about her old case and how much it meant to catch the guys and quickly. He agreed, admitting to her how much seeing those dead kids struck a nerve. He reassured her they would catch them one way or another. As they walked out of the coffee shop, a call came over the radio:

Units over the city-wide, we got calls of a home invasion. 1433 N State Street

“Gold Coast, that’s the same neighborhood as the other home invasions, you think that’s our guys?” Jay asked looking over at Hailey as he held the radio up.

“Could be, let’s roll on it,” she told him, rushing towards his truck as he followed, telling dispatch they were taking the call.

They rolled up to the scene, carefully clearing the house together, but they arrived too late, and the offenders were gone. They found the couple who lived there in the same position as the last two families, only they still had a pulse. Hailey tried asking them what the offenders were after, but all she got were incoherent mutterings from each victim. They both died before ambulances could arrive, but just the same as the other cases, only the husband had signs of bruising in addition to the gunshot wound, and a safe was found in the back of a linen closet. While crime techs combed the house, Hailey made her way out to the back garden, finding a hose to rinse the victim’s blood from her hands. Her hands were shaking so much, she couldn’t quite scrub enough to get them clean. Jay caught sight of her through the window and wade his way out to her, grabbing her hands in his to steady them. She looked up at him as he nodded his head, taking the hose and helping her scrub her hands clean. Once they were clear, he held her hands in his for a minute longer, quickly releasing them when someone cleared their throat behind them. When they turned around Voight was standing there, his hands deep in his pockets, eyeing the two of them as they took a step back from one another. If he didn’t know about them before, he definitely did then.

“You get anything new on these guys?” He asked, a knowing look plastered across his face.

“No, Sarge. They were gone by the time we pulled up,” Jay told him, dropping the hose to the ground.

“Well, get back to it. We’ve wasted enough time as it is, we’ve got to catch these guys,” he said bluntly, turning and making his way back into the house. The two of them stayed there frozen, shaking their heads at how careless they had been to let him walk up on them like that.

Back at the district, they scrubbed the lives of all of the victims, still coming up with no connection between any of them. Nighttime arrived once again with no leads and no suspects, so they decided to call it and head home. That night, Hailey laid awake, tossing and turning for hours. She tried every method she knew to fight off the insomnia that had kept her restless, but nothing was able to lull her into a slumber. It was the case that was keeping her up, and her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling while a million theories circulated through her mind. Something about it just didn’t make sense, and she couldn’t shake the idea that they had been missing an obvious connection. The faces of the couple she tried to save earlier that day remained at the forefront of her mind, and after a while of fighting off the urge to get out of bed and chase that gut feeling, she finally slipped out from the grasp of Jay’s limp arm, carefully retreating from the bed as to not wake him. She made her way over to her closet, pulling on a pair of jeans and slipping a sweatshirt over her head before grabbing her badge and gun from the nightstand and sliding her phone into her back pocket. She made her way to her office, retrieving a sticky note and pen to write Jay a message letting him know where she was going.

Couldn’t sleep. Gone back to the district, needed to go over the case again. ♡

She tiptoed back into the bedroom and placed the note on her pillow where she knew he’d see if he happened to wake up. She grabbed her coat and opened the front door, slowly guiding it closed on her way out, still trying her best to be as quiet as possible. She wasn’t sure what she would be looking for when she arrived at the district, but she had hoped that studying it alone and in the quietness of the empty bullpen would provide her with a new perspective. She made herself a cup of coffee before walking over to her desk and opening up every file they had on the case. She paced the floor of the empty space, flipping through files and studying photos until she was sure there was nothing to see. Finally, she hoisted herself onto the top of her desk, pulling her knees into her chest and eyeing the board for something they may have been missing. Suddenly, she heard the beeping of the keypad and the clanging of the door opening and closing downstairs. She checked her phone to see the time. It was 4 am, and she couldn’t imagine who else would be up that early. She did a double-take as Jay made his way around the corner, a look of exhaustion on his face as he sent her a lazy smile.

“What are you doing here?” She asked him, unclasping her hands from around her knees and pulling herself to the edge of the desk.

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing,” he said with a smirk, pulling his jacket from his shoulders and resting it on the back of her desk chair.

“I couldn’t sleep. Something about this case was keeping me up, so I figured instead of lying in bed and staring at the ceiling for hours I would try and make myself useful. You didn’t have to come check on me. I’m fine,” she told him, the corners of her lips curling up into a reassuring smile as he came to stand over her.

“I couldn’t go back to sleep once I realized you were gone,” he told her softly with a slight pout before turning to lean on the desk beside her. “So, what have you figured out?” He asked, his attention turning to the board before them. She sighed, crossing her arms and staring at the crime scene photos as he waited for her response.

“I don’t know. I mean these families have no connections. The kids all go to different schools, they all work at completely different places, they don’t even shop at the same stores, I can’t seem to figure out where their lives intersect, so I just don’t understand why they’re being targeted,” she ran down, looking over at Jay whose eyes surveyed the information on the board.

“Maybe it’s about more than just the robbery. I mean they’re taking time to kill every member of the family, including the kids. Unless these guys are just straight-up psychopaths, it sounds like whatever is going on could be personal,” Jay suggested, looking over at his partner whose eyes were transfixed on one particular photo on the case board. His words sparked something in her, and she caught sight of the words Resurgence Tech written in bold font on a magnet on the refrigerator from the second crime scene. She knew the name was familiar, but she couldn’t remember how.

She pulled out the files from each of the cases and found what she was looking for. An email address registered in the husband’s name from the first robbery ending in resurgencetech.co. Looking at the other files, she was able to establish a connection between all of them leading back to a company previously known as Resurgence Tech. As she and Jay investigated through the night, they were able to figure out what was being stolen and why it was worth killing over. Resurgence Tech was a company co-founded by four individuals, Ryan Ethers, victim of the first robbery, Scarlett Jameson, victim of the second, Max Lin, victim from the third, and Lianne Meadows, who lived in a house in the Gold Coast District close to the previous victims. Five years prior, Resurgence Tech created a breakthrough idea for a high-tech medical device that had the potential to significantly change the practice of medicine. However, after hours of gathering information and records, the two detectives found out that the design was actually stolen from two brothers who had developed the original idea for a project they were working on in college. Resurgence used their power and influence to discredit the claims of the brothers, blacklisting them from the entire industry, and eventually pulling the design before it could ever meet the market. Not long after, Resurgence shut down for good, liquidating its assets and washing its hands of its shady actions for good. Digging deeper into the four co-founders of Resurgence and knowing more about where to look, Hailey and Jay were able to find email exchanges between them all discussing what to do with the patent plans for the stolen design in case there ever came a time to reintroduce the tech to the market. The strategy was to split the plans between the four of them, each keeping a piece locked up on a thumb drive hidden in a safe.

As soon as the sun rose that morning, Hailey called Voight and the rest of the team to come in. She explained the connection and identified the brothers as suspects, describing how the robberies must have been to obtain the thumb drives and get vengeance for the way Resurgence screwed them over. The situation had a significant impact on the brothers’ lives, leading them to turn to a life of crime, describing how they got connected with an armed robbery crew, and began pulling jobs across the city before getting caught only a year after Resurgence blacklisted them from the tech industry. They were released early due to overcrowding and good behavior, so they got out, hacked into the emails of the individuals that ruined their lives, and found out the design was out there, still viable to be profited from. Running on anger and revenge and using the skills they developed in their time with the robbery crew, they sought to take back what was theirs. They were operating under the theory that the two brothers were committing the crimes, and a guy that used to run with them in their old robbery crew was taking on the role as the getaway driver.

“Well, let’s go scoop ‘em up,” Voight said upon hearing the rundown of the case.

“Sarge, as much as I want to bring these guys in, we don’t have any evidence on them. There’s been no DNA, no prints, no witnesses tying these guys to these cases. There’s no way they’re going to talk, and if we bring them in, they’re just going to get released even if we keep them for the full 48 hours. By then they’ll have already made plans to run,” Jay said.

“These guys have killed nine people, three of those people being little kids. If we don’t act now, they’re going to strike again and that’s going to be blood on our hands. We bring them in, and we make them talk. I don’t care if we have to threaten them, or if we get ‘em to flip on each other. Either way, we’re not just going to sit around and wait for something to happen on this one. Not when we’ve got a pile of bodies growing the longer we sit here with our thumbs up our asses. So, Hailey, Jay, I want you two going to pick these guys up,” Voight bit back, a distinct annoyance in his voice. He had been on edge throughout the entirety of the case, but his temper seemed to have only increased after walking up on Jay and Hailey at the scene a day prior.

As much as Hailey wanted to side with Voight, she knew Jay was right. Bringing them in with no evidence and no witnesses placing them at any of the scenes would only guarantee them getting to walk, something she was determined to not let happen.

“Sarge, we can’t,” she muttered, swallowing what felt like a rock in her throat as his face fell with bitter surprise.

“What?” He challenged, his head dropping down as he cut his eyes at her.

“Jay is right. We can’t just jump on these guys with no evidence or else we risk losing them for good. I know you want to get these guys quick, but there’s got to be a better play,” she replied, taking note of the uncomfortable looks expressed by the other Intelligence members who quietly observed the interaction from the other side of the room. She watched as he pulled the inside of his cheek between his teeth.

“Remind me, who’s the sergeant of this unit?” The question carried a great deal of weight, and everyone in the room fell silent as his eyes travelled between each of the five intelligence members. “You don’t have to agree with what I say, but there’s a chain of command here and I expect you to listen to me. Now, unless there’s another sergeant in this unit I’m unaware of, I’m in charge. So, I’m only going to say this one last time. Jay, Hailey, go pick these guys up. I have to go update Miller on what’s going on. Those guys better be sitting in interrogation when I get back. End of,” he roared, making his way past the officers who remained frozen in place.

While Adam, Kevin, and Kim went back to work, Hailey grabbed her jacket, heading down the hallway out to the parking lot to follow the sergeant’s orders.

“Hailey, wait,” Jay called after her, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the observation room where he knew the others wouldn’t be able to hear them.

“What?” She questioned, a look of concern on her face as he silently thought through his words.

“I think I have another play,” he told her.

“Jay, he seemed- “she began before he cut her off.

“No, I know, but you know I’m right. We bring these guys in now and these families will never get the justice they deserve. We know there’s only one family left on their list, Lianne Meadows. The only move we have left is to catch these guys in the act. I say we sit on her house and wait for the robbery to go down, snatch them up, and then we have the guns tying them to the other cases and we have leverage to get them to flip if we need to,” Jay told her, the look in his eyes pleading with her to agree.

She knew Jay was right, but she also knew what going against Voight’s orders would mean. By that point, it was safe to assume he knew about their relationship. She knew that alone would be cause for him to assign them to different partners or even to different units. Teaming up and going against him would only increase the chances of him pulling the trigger on that. From the start of the case, she knew she wanted to catch the guys no matter what, but she never imagined it would involve making a decision that could possibly jeopardize her partnership with Jay. Every part of her knew his way was the only option that gave them a chance of making things right, yet she knew there would be a cost to them both going against Voight’s orders.

“You’re right… but let me do it alone,” she told him, causing him to frown at her words.

“What? No, I can’t let you go after these guys by yourself,” he argued, a combination of concern and annoyance in his voice.

“Jay, if we do this together it’s only going to give him reason to split us up. I have a feeling we’re already on his hit list after everything that has happened these past few days, and if he sees that we’re siding with each other… going rogue against his orders? He could reassign us partners, or worse, ship one of us off again. You, this partnership, our relationship, it all means too much to me to risk. If I go alone, only I take the fall, and he doesn’t have reason to use our relationship against us,” Hailey told him, moving a hand to his chest as she spoke.

Pushing him away and crossing that line by herself was the only way she knew how to protect both their relationship and their partnership. With her history of crossing lines, she had hoped it would just seem like another questionable decision she made all on her own, and he wouldn’t have reason to punish both of them by splitting them up.

“Hailey, I’m not just letting you go there without backup,” he finally said, his jaw set tightly as he peered into her eyes.

“I’ll have Trudy assign some patrol guys for backup. That way you and the others don’t take fall back from Voight, but I won’t be going in alone,” she replied, moving the hand from his chest to cup his face. “I’ll be fine,” she told him.

He nodded hesitantly before sliding his fingers down her arm and wrapping his hand around hers.

“Be careful,” he insisted, squeezing her hand lightly.

“Of course,” she nodded back before opening the door and disappearing down the hall.

She sat out front of the house, the patrol officers waiting a street over for her signal. It had been about an hour and she had already dodged two calls from Voight. Her patience was running thin with every minute that passed without a sign of the crew. Then, she spotted a dark van creeping down the street and she slumped down in her seat, trying to avoid being seen. As the van approached the house, two men rolled out of the back door as the van maintained a low speed before stopping down at the end of the street. The second the men made it around the back of the house, Hailey radioed the patrol guys, climbing out of her car and drawing her weapon as she followed the offenders around the back. When the patrol guys caught up, she nodded to one of them, signaling them to open the back door and enter the home. The second they made it through the doorway, they were catching fire. Hailey took cover behind a door frame, keying her radio attached to her vest.

“10-1, 10-1, shots fired at the police, 1327 N Dearborn Street. Be advised patrol and plainclothes officers on scene,” she yelled into the radio, securing her free hand back on her gun before motioning the officers to press forward. They made their way into the house, carefully clearing each room as they passed through. When they made it to the front of the house, she caught sight of one of the guys escaping out the front door.

“5021 Henry I’m in foot pursuit of a suspect in an alleyway going west across the street from the original location,” she called out into the radio as she pumped her legs with each step, trying to control her breath as she chased after the suspect. He rounded a corner and she slowed down, holding her gun out to peer around the corner before continuing the pursuit. The next thing she knew, her gun was being kicked out of her hands and she was being thrown against the wall, hitting the side of her head against brick and feeling blood trickle down her face. She brought a knee up into her attacker’s groin, giving her a brief opening to connect an elbow with the side of his head. Falling to the ground, the man grabbed at her ankle, bringing her down with him before grabbing hold of her vest and laying a fist into her jaw. The blow sent her backward, shooting pain into the side of her face. She caught sight of her gun on the ground a few feet away and went to crawl for it, but he grabbed at her leg, drawing her backward toward him as she stretched her fingertips towards the handle. He was stronger than her, and he managed to pull her back enough to regain hold of her vest, winding up to lay another fist into her face. Before he could, she wrapped a leg around his, twirling him over so she was hovering over him. She began laying fist after fist into his masked face until she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, sending her elbow backwards towards the person. It was grabbed instantly, and she wiggled in the grasp before turning around and taking in the familiar green eyes of her partner.

“Hailey, we got him,” he said, holstering his gun and grabbing her by each arm to pull her up from the ground. Kim came from behind him, removing the mask from the offender and rolling him over to place him in cuffs. Meanwhile, Jay wrapped Hailey in his arms, bringing his chin down to her head as they swayed together in an embrace. Her breath was heavy and shaky, and she felt tears pool at the corners of her eyes. She was overwhelmed by everything that had just happened, but his arms wound tightly around her helped steady her breathing.

“It’s okay Hailey, you’re safe. I’ve got you,” he reassured her through a whisper. She took comfort in his words, and despite the pain surging through her head, she buried it deeper into his chest.

Luckily, they had reached the target and her family in time before the offenders could do any harm. Hailey went to Med to get her head checked out. A few stitches and several scans later, she was cleared, making her way back to the district to take whatever repercussions Voight had in store for her. The second she made it up the stairs, everyone’s eyes fell on her and she just flashed them a gentle smile and nod, signaling to them she was okay. Voight came to the doorway of his office, and she didn’t miss a beat heading straight towards him. However, just before she reached the door, his attention shifted over towards Jay at his desk.

“You too, Jay,” was all the sergeant said before turning and moving back into his office. Jay stood, making his way over and closing the door behind him before coming to stand beside Hailey across from the Voight’s desk. He looked over at them silently for a moment, Hailey setting her jaw tightly as she braced for whatever was to come.

“Are we just making a habit out of disobeying me and questioning my orders? Is that what we’re doing now?” He asked them. They remained silent. “Because if that’s what we’re doing and you’ve got a problem with how I run things, there’s the door. You can get out right now,” he told them sternly.

“Sarge, we needed to get those guys. Catching them in the act was the only way. I did what I had to do to make sure those families got justice,” Hailey said, her eyes remaining fixed with his.

“I told you to pick them up, bring them in, and instead you went your own way, putting that family, yourself, and a couple of patrol officers at risk. I could suspend you over this,” he argued, a distinct tension building in his voice.

“Sarge, it was my idea. If anyone deserves punishment, it’s me,” Jay admitted, causing Hailey’s head to swivel his direction, a cross look on her face as the words left his mouth.

“No, that’s not… Look, I went there on my own. I’m the only one to blame here,” Hailey argued causing him to shake his head before them.

“Okay, look. I know there’s something going on between you two, I have known for a while,” the second the words left his mouth, their eyes met briefly, and they both swallowed hard before turning back to him. “I decided to turn a blind eye because you two were able to keep it strictly professional here at work as far as I was concerned. But what happened today, what’s happening right now… this lying to me and covering for each other is not welcome in my unit. This is your warning and it’s the only one you’re going to get. As long as I’m in charge of this unit, you listen to me. You don’t go off-book, you don’t go behind my back because you disagree with what I say, and you certainly don’t let whatever is going on between you two change the way you make decisions. I know you guys are going to have each other’s backs… as partners and as whatever else, but the second that trumps having my back and the team's back, the way it did today, it undermines my authority and puts all of us at risk. If anything happens again like what happened today, you’re both done, and I’ll make sure you never work in the same unit again. Is that clear?” He asked them.

“Understood,” Jay replied.

“Yes, Sarge,” Hailey uttered, her heart rate dropping significantly with relief.

They drove home that night in silence, partly from exhaustion and partly from trying to process everything that had happened in the past 72 hours. Three days ago, they were on their first official date, celebrating their relationship for what felt like the first time, and now they were coming down from what could have easily been the end of their job and their partnership. Even though she hated the way it had to go down, she stood by having Jay’s back and trying to protect their relationship, even if it meant muddying the waters between them and Voight. From the start of the case, she was determined to catch the guys, chasing a small sense of redemption she felt she needed for that case she worked so many years prior. She wasn’t happy about everything that happened, particularly everything that went wrong, but she was able to save a family and get some form of justice for the others, and she stood by that firmly. It wasn’t the first time she had challenged Voight or crossed lines, but it was the first time she was genuinely fearful of the consequences. She was just glad her fears didn’t come to fruition. She looked over at Jay in the driver’s seat, and she remembered the way he told her she was safe after pulling her from the attacker only hours prior. Safe wasn’t something she had felt often in her life, but she certainly felt it when she was with him. She smiled to herself in the dark, satisfied to know that at least for that day, despite everything that happened, their relationship and their partnership were two things she could still consider safe.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #chicago pd #hailey upton #jay halstead #upstead fic

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smol-jinyoungie96 · 3 years ago

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Devil Judge - Episode 5 (i’m not okay)

Right! So review timeeeee this is a long one lol

I love the opening. Facts

This man clearly carries a lot of burden but he loves his brother so much.

Watching the first part made me wonder if they are trying to make the viewers think if he really killed his brother and is guilty, hence the nightmares of his dead brother standing in the middle of his room, or is it because he feels guilty that he was only able to save Elijah and himself… either way they kinda show us that there is guilt somewhere in him.

When Elijah comes to his room she says about him not waking up like that before, could mean that Ga On’s presence is worsening his guilty conscious, or from my perspective, i just think that 10 years worth of forcibly trampled down trauma is threatening to explode.

Devil judge or not, no one can control that amount of severe trauma for long.

Next point! Kim Ga On is so sweet with a kind heart, he initially joined the court to spy on Yohan but just based on him clawing open unhealed wounds, he feels so deeply for Yohan to the point he is willing to quit the bench just so Yohan doesn’t have to look at him and see his brother’s face every time.

He tries to relate to Yohan on an emotional level that they both feel due to losing their loved ones. But a few things that I noticed is that when Yohan says,

“I certainly don’t want to hear that from someone that looks like him”

Again, being called the devil judge or not, but having someone who shares the same face as his brother accusing him of killing the said brother has to hurt deep down.

2. “I wonder how much you’ve discovered”

To me, i think that Yohan knew from the beginning that Ga On was looking into him, and yet he has Ga On in a place where Bambi himself admits to it.

3. “I don’t remember asking you to understand me”

I feel like he is intentionally pretending to push Ga On away because he knows that Bambi will do the exact opposite. It is literally in Ga On’s blood to always try and sympathise with anyone who has any sort of emotional baggage. He knows he can lure Ga On more towards him if he pushed the right buttons.

One part that stuck to me the most is when Ga On says

“hunters mask their scent completely, until the time is right”

Could it be foreshadowing?

It could hint towards him fooling Ga On to believing him until it is too late for Bambi to realise because well, Ga On falls for any heartbreaking story.

But at the same time it is also similar to the way Yohan is so close with the rich socialites to win their trust until the time is right for him to finally reveal that he is in fact a hunter and they’ve been his prey all along.

When Ga On leaves Yohan says that “it’s weird because I’ve never experienced that before”

That, being another human being connecting to him on such a deep emotional level and that’s something he hasn’t felt for almost ten years.

The way he talks about Ga On relating to him with an expression of awe makes me think that it could also be a fact as to why Yohan has this obsession with Ga On.

The minister’s interview was a clever way to show the people that despite being a mother she is a person who has her duty towards the country as a priority but also wanting to make the public question Yohan’s morals.

Please look at his fond little smile,

it’s a genuine reaction to Ga On tricking him into eating proper food by mentioning wrinkles and his age 💀 but also, signs to say that the little annoying pest is growing on him.

The scene with Ga On and Soo Hyun, they talk about the fire and there’s one line that Soo hyun says,

“The list of attendees to the ceremony was covered up, that’s not something Kang Yohan could’ve done 10 years ago. That takes controlling the press and prosecution”

A clear indication that someone who held power over both media and the prosecution was involved in the accident.

Everything Ga On has seen so far after he joined the live show has terrorised him so much but he is still worried about Soo Hyun because he has seen things that she hasn’t.. even when she’s a cop.. even when the reason she became a cop in the first place is because she want to help him and to keep him out of trouble.

Their bond is so pure and cute.

THE TRIAL

The beginning was so cute with the sweetest welcome back to Ga On and then there’s Yohan giving him a fond smile as if Ga On was actually on death’s doorstep and not snooping around his house arguing with a nanny about not being sleeping beauty..

The case was a set up from the get go. It was just a trap from the beginning to push Yohan to a corner.

They wanted him to have no where to turn to when prosecution suggested “physical castration” (gross) because if he gave into the requested sentence,

they would very easily twist it into making him look like a sadistic monster and if he didn’t give in and went with the 20 years of prison time requested by the defendant,

that would make him look like just another person who doesn’t bother with taking people’ opinion into consideration. Which would make his own statements from the first episode wildly contradicting to what he went with.

Even the stupid lawyer tries so hard to push him to this corner by repeating “this is what the majority wants” but Kang Yohan is definitely smarter than they give him credit for because he puts the pieces together as soon as Jung Sun Ah sets foot inside the court room.

I love that Ga On as a judge as come to a point where he genuinely relied on Yohan as to what they were going to do instead of directly challenging his authority like he had done in the first case. Another sign that Ga On is starting to trust his boss.

Jung Sun Ah thinks! That she has him helpless but then this man turns the whole game upside down. (Even here, it’s really just a game in the name of justice, it is a power play between two sides)

If the minister and Jung Sun Ah thought they were a step ahead of Yohan, he definitely proved that he is ten steps ahead of them when he gave that sentence.

I completely adore the trust Ga On and Jin Joo has on their boss. Especially the way Ga On shares a real relieved smile with Jin Joo and the way he looks so relieved that things weren’t going to be as bad as he thought.

Teen Ga On was definitely a delinquent. The sight is just ✨

Another important point is that just when he learns to trust his boss, now he is struggling,

Because from one side there’s Kang Yohan asking him is he’s going to stand by him or stand against him,

And on the other hand there’s the Chief Justice asking him to choose between being an accomplice or an informant.

They’re both essentially asking him to pick a side and it looks like they’re pulling him back and forth between themselves. He’s struggling because as much as he wants to stand by Yohan, he can see that Yohan’s approach to justice is being adapted by the public,

For an example when those three kids were playing, it gives him a notion that the barbaric flogging system is now being used as a playing method by kids.. kids. It genuinely seemed to scare him that the way those kids were laughing and smiling while playfully hitting the small boy.

Kim Ga On is shown as this impulsive, level headed judge with a black and white sense of Justice but he too carries a lot of pain and burden similar to Yohan. But in his case, he’s being put on the spot between the two sides, eventually it will be him who has to face the consequences if he chooses the wrong side.

And being on the wrong side of Kang Yohan doesn’t really seem to be the smartest thing at the moment.

Going back to Kang Yohan and Kim Ga On, i like the way Bambi calls Yohan out for implying that being a monster is better than being a victim when he’s not brave enough to face his own pain.

That genuine shock on Yohan’s face is enough to show that Kim Ga On is really out there pulling out this man’s traumas one by one like he’s pulling out grass from the ground.

Again it shows how much Yohan is suffering inside because ultimately, that mansion is just a giant nightmare for him.

JUNG SUN AH/KANG YOHAN

first of all.

CONSENT!

i felt bad for Yohan.

But Jung Sun Ah is really obsessed with him to the point she jumped from the second floor just because he said he to, when Yohan came to a place of power, she worked herself to her own place of power. Her obsession with him runs too deep.

Tomorrow’s episode is already making me nervous because i feel like Jung Sun Ah is going to use Soo Hyun to drive a wedge between Yohan and Ga On.

If he did his homework on Ga On. I’m sure she has done hers as well.

More or less, Episode 5 was like the calm before the storm.

Unsurprisingly, i hate storms.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for listening to me ranting.

Please send help

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wandering-travesty · 3 years ago

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Call Me By Your Name

You weren’t sleezy. That was just a word idiots used to try and pull you down to their level. Yes, your hair was slicked back. Yes, your eyeshadow was dark as the night. Yes, your suit jacket barely covered your chest. Yes, your nails were painted black and sharp as daggers. But, no, you weren’t sleezy. You were dressed for your job. What was your job? Well, that was a bit more complicated….

“I need you to get close to him.” Erwin said coolly, stubble covered chin resting on his strong hands.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, genuinely hoping you had too much wax lodged in your ear canals.

“You heard him.” You met the glare of the midget standing behind your boss.

“Okay, smartass, I did. But you can’t be serious, boss! He’s beyond dangerous. Shouldn’t someone like,” you gestured in Levi’s direction, “one of the Ackermans take care of this? I’m not discounting myself or anything, but fucking with a Yeager is basically a suicide mission.” You were actually shocked Erwin asked you to do something so important. More so, dangerous. You weren’t exaggerating when you said it was a death sentence. You’d lost enough comrades to know that.

“Listen, he’s the key to taking down the Marlian Syndicate.” You knew that, but still, this seemed out of left field. “The Ackermans are strong, yes, but they lack a certain…”

“They’re not ready to whore themselves out. Just say that, Smith.” You understood now. The Ackermans were cold blooded killers ready to strike at any moment. However, they were awkward and completely inept at things like lust and heated and frankly revolting rendezvous. That was how he wanted you to get information for him.

Erwin wanted you to fuck the leader of the Marlian Syndicate.

“I wouldn’t use that wording exactly, but your assumption is correct.” Levi couldn’t seem to meet your gaze, but Erwin continued to stare straight into your soul. He was the leader of La Peste Eldienne (The Eldian Plague) for a reason. Strong, debonair, charming, and slightly insane. He could down a beer in one swig, sip a martini all night long, or abstain from alcohol completely. Whatever he needed to do, he did. He murdered, sent the idiotic young and the hopeless old to their deaths just the same, and could absolutely wine and dine a stranger until their clothes practically flew off their body if it was for the cause. You needed to be like that. Especially at a time like this.

“I’ll do it. And I’ll do it well.” You assured your boss and his partner. Yeah, this would be easy. You could go low as the scum you were about to completely fuck over. You had been climbing up the ranks as of late, so this would be easy as pie.

Before going on your little date: you made a mental note of the main players you would have to deal with. The list you had went something like this:

Porco Galliard: Complete idiot. All brawn, no brain. Basically a bouncer with a fancier jacket and a higher salary. No worries about him doing anything funny.

Pieck Finger: The sweet little thing they kept around for good reason. Part of you wished you had to deal with her instead. She was witty and had a surprising amount of control over the shipments of cocaine and ammunition that went on about the city. Her pretty face and calm demeanor hid her true genius. She was one of the more concerning figures at tonight’s gig, but also one of the one’s more willing to hear you out before killing you.

Colt Grice: Basically a smarter but weaker version of Galliard. He was really only part of the Syndicate to learn from the best and become a great mafioso one day. You had high hopes for him, despite yourself.

Bertholdt Hoover: A freakishly tall mix of the last three members of the gang. So sweaty and shaky he wasn’t allowed to handle guns under any circumstance. That told you all you needed to know about his threat level.

Annie Leonhardt: Tiny, quiet ball of rage and skill. Could murder you in an instant, but would only do so if ordered. Not a concern unless someone else found you out, or you didn’t like being glared at all night.

Reiner Braun: His personality changed with the passing minutes. Could be calm and almost kind, or could snap your neck like a twig in his giant ass hand. He was a wildcard, and a dangerous one. Though he was obsessed with following orders and being the perfect little soldier boy, so you didn’t need to worry about him if no one told him to start shooting.

Yelena: Even more freakishly tall than Hoover. Also freakishly obsessed with the gang leader and his “master plan”, whatever the hell that was. Maybe you would find out tonight. Anyways, she would only do anything if you threatened the boss in any way. If you did your job right, that wouldn’t be an issue.

Eren Yeager: Easily the most brash and idiotic member of the gang. His problem was that he was trigger happy. In this business, trigger happy meant dozens of dead innocents piled up on the club floor in an instant. You had to be careful around him. Unlike most of the others, he would kill you without thinking.

And the top dog. The man of the hour. The man you had to seduce:

Zeke Yeager: Think Erwin but with more wit and charm. Not to mention more of a sadistic mindset. His favorite game was cat and mouse, seeing how long it took before he had a good excuse to have someone drawn and quartered. His expertise was slow torture that the victim didn’t even really know was happening before the barrel of the gun was already pointed to their temple. And you had to fuck him so stupid he leaked confidential information.

The only other issue with Zeke was his habit of sleeping around. Yes, he was a tramp by most standards. A harlot with exotic tastes. You had heard stories of him seducing women and men alike, and god only knew what they did once he succeeded. What that meant for you was he would be hard to impress.

So, you were here to beat him at his own game. And if you were found out, his younger brother would most likely shoot you on the spot. That was, if one of the others did it first. Or even worse, Zeke decided to be a tried and true asshole and torture you to death. The options were endless, and you hated them all.

So there you sat, ass perched on a bar stool, sipping on a gin rickey and waiting for your opportunity. The room smelled strongly of tobacco, rum, and cinnamon. At least you would die surrounded by what you loved, you thought, laughing grimly to yourself. Men and women danced to slow songs you faintly recognized. The air buzzed with haughty laughter and upper class small talk. You barely had any idea how to interact with high society shitheads as high and mighty as the ones Yeager surrounded himself with. You weren’t often sent out to jobs like this. You were like Levi, born in the slums and never taught how to properly behave. You knew what you had to, much like your knowledge of the goings on of La Peste Eldienne. You knew your gang traded drugs, ammunition, and whatever else was a hot commodity at the time, but nothing other than that. You were actually quite glad to know nothing, since that made you a pretty unimportant person to rival gangs. Not as many death threats and kidnapping attempts came your way, unlike the ones Erwin, Hange, and Levi got every day. You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts on the gang hierarchy.

“Excuse me, miss. The boss wants to chat with ya’ real quick.” A man with greasy hair and green, catlike eyes softly gripped your shoulder. Considering what you knew of Galliard, you figured that grip wouldn’t be soft for much longer if you didn’t do as he suggested.

“Oh, alright. Did he happen to mention why?” You were genuinely curious. Porco didn’t offer you any solid answer, but there was a reasonable explanation.

Zeke wanted to get his rocks off. Parties could be interesting, with the right people, of course. The right people hadn’t happened to show up that night. You, on the other hand, seemed interesting. To be frank, you were gorgeous. Even from a distance, he could tell there was something behind your eyes that spelled trouble. He loved people like you. Vicious, cunning, witty, all hidden behind an uninterested and bored demeanor. Those were the people he wanted around him. The best examples were Pieck, and surprisingly, Levi. They seemed to be completely different people than the ones hiding behind their eyes, and Zeke loved to see how long it took to break them down. Well, he was a bit kinder to Pieck, but you and Ackerman got the rough treatment.

“Zeke, what the hell’re you doin’?” Eren pulled him out of his rather disgusting thoughts of…things better left unsaid.

“I’m going to talk to a woman, Eren. What does it seem like I’m doing?” Zeke had a sharp tongue and quick wit, which he didn’t spare even his brother from.

“I get that, but why that one? She seems…shady t’me. I wouldn’t let ‘er get too close, y’know?”

“Eren, please be rational.” Zeke held a palm out in front of Eren, as if to physically stop his train of thought. “You and Yelena will shoot at the first sign of danger, so inviting this lovely woman to join us for a harmless chat isn’t a danger in the slightest.” Zeke reassured his brother, neglecting to tell him his true intentions. He was sure that would just make him more upset and skittish, which was dangerous for everyone there.

“’Kay, boss. Got the dame ya’ asked for.” Porco trudged to the brothers’ secluded table with you in tow. He had kept one hand on your shoulder and the other right above your ass. The two main reasons being: one, he didn’t want someone so seemingly important to escape his grip, and two, you had a nice ass.

“Ah, thank you Galliard…you can let her go now.” He gave Porco a knowing smirk. He let you go immediately and walked away, cheeks slightly reddened. Zeke didn’t want someone else touching his new toy.

“I’m sorry if this comes off as rude, but did you need something from me? That man made me leave my gin at the bar and I would like to finish it at some point.” Oh, Zeke was going to love you. You weren’t flighty or scared in the slightest. He knew you had seen some serious shit. Not to mention how you cared more about your alcohol than a dangerous mafia boss and his younger brother ordering you over to their table. You were attractive and relatable. What a catch.

“My apologies, Galliard tends to be a bit, how do you say, brutish. Feel free to order something new and sit down with us.” He gave you a smile that told you it wasn’t a suggestion. This guy was already just as bad as everyone had told you. He hailed a waiter over to the table. You knew that wasn’t some kind gesture, rather a show of how much power he had over everyone there. His long, thick fingers and suave smile also showed you how easily swayed you could be by dashing looks and raw power.

He held himself like a king but talked like a philosopher. At the same time, he was down to earth yet still slightly condescending. You never knew where you stood with him, and he liked it that way. His flaxen hair was parted down the middle, and unlike most of the men there along with yourself with their hair hardened with pomade, it was fluffy and moved as he gestured wildly when he spoke. He tended to talk with his hands, once again drawing attention to just how attractive they were. His face was indescribably beautiful. His eyes were like stormy oceans cascading with passion and intrigue. His lips looked soft and plush with a wonderful roseate hue. His beard was well groomed and framed his sharp jaw perfectly. His gold rimmed glasses had a habit of hiding his eyes when thrown into direct light, which often happened with how he talked with his whole body. The way he constantly made direct eye contact with you had you lost in a daze of desire and fear. Was this all some sick ploy to get you to slip up and get everyone you loved killed along with yourself? Or was he seriously that interested in you?

Eren was quiet most of the time, unless Zeke spoke to him. He didn’t like you. You were too similar to Zeke for his tastes.

“Say, Eren, could you pass me a smoke?”

“Oh, so you do have vices. See, you never ordered a drink for yourself, so I assumed you were a man above pleasures of the flesh.” You flashed a toothy grin at him, signaling that it was just playful banter. You two were both rather good at that.

“My dear, the more you get to know me, the better you will understand just how enthralled with earthly pleasures I am.” He winked, and it sent you to the moon with want. How could a man be so gorgeous, charming, dangerous, and sadistic all at the same time? And why did you have to deal with it? You needed him out of his right mind, but it seemed like that could never happen. Whether it came from alcohol, drugs, or sex. You planned to use a mixture of all three. As you continued your playful jabs and taunts at each other, you found your opportunity to seal the deal. One sniff of the white stuff and he was putty in your hands.

“Now you know, Mr. Yeager, gin isn’t my only vice.” You kept your usual sly tone.

“Oh really? That is quite the interesting thing to say.” He matched your energy perfectly. This was too good.

“Have you ever happened to try, well, what do they call it these days? Well, I tend to call it blow. Snow, stardust, snort, sugar, crack, whichever you prefer, I suppose.” Oh, how brave of you to mention your own trade to your top competitor.

“Why, yes, I have indeed partook in snorting blow. Is there any reason as to why you’re asking me that right now, darling?” You wished he would stop with the pet names. Or rather, you wished you would stop loving them so much. It felt dirty to enjoy your enemy’s company to this extent.

“Well, I was wondering if you might like to sneak off and try some of my personal mix.” You leaned in close, covering the side of you mouth with your hand. Eren wasn’t a bad kid or anything, but he’d mess with your plan, and you couldn’t have that. Especially not with his slippery ass trigger finger.

“Your own personal mix, eh? Don’t tell me you’re involved in the trade, now.” He leaned in just shy of touching your lips. “That wouldn’t be very good for either of us, sweetheart.” That’s it, you were fucking this man if it was part of your plan or not. The entire thing could go south, and you’d still want this man’s dick in your mouth. You didn’t really care anymore. He was too hot to handle, and you were this close to cracking under the pressure. Zeke was right, you were fun to play with.

“Not at all, I just happen to know the right people.” You grinned at him, knowing you technically weren’t lying. It was your own little inside joke, or so you thought.

The next thing you knew you were in Zeke’s penthouse, smashed up against the wall with a hand around your neck. By all accounts, this is what you wanted, but it was also quite the opposite.

“Dearest, I find it insulting that you think I would fall for that pitiful act.” He had you figured out from the moment you walked in. Zeke Yeager never forgot a pretty face. He’d wanted to have you naked in his bed for months, and here you were, all helpless and needy. You were adorable, thinking you could get whatever you wanted from him.

“Smith was a fool to send anyone, let alone a little minx like you.” You hated how good being insulted by this bitch felt. How did he make it so that your panties got wetter every time he called you a different synonym for whore? It was so awful and so amazing.

“I’m the slut, yet you’re the one actively trying to fuck me? Do I have that right?” You quipped the best you could from under the pressure of his strong hand.

“Alright then, we’re both sluts. But the difference between us is that I admit it, yet you pretend to be this perfect little princess in order to fuck powerful men like me.” His grip on your neck tightened as if to add injury to insult.

“Don’t insult me,” you had to catch your breath between each word, “I fuck men ten times more powerful than you.” But, god was it worth it. You figured he might slap you or otherwise reprimand you, but no, the bastard just smiled wide. What a fucking asshole.

“Maybe to you.” He widened his cheshire grin. “Maybe you think Erwin’s more powerful. That he has a bigger cock and sucking it will get you further in life.” He pushed you further into the wall. “Or maybe letting Ackerman smack your ass will earn you some cash. Or having Zacharius sniff around your cunt instead of your neck will rise you up the ranks, hmm?” You just grimaced at him, knowing none of it was true. “Or maybe,” he let out a chuckle, “letting Zoe do whatever the hell they’re into will get you more coke and gin.” He was mocking you, ruthlessly, with no signs of stopping, and without letting you get a word in. You were starting to see black spots in your line of vision.

“Well, fucking with me will get you much more, angel.” He finally let your neck go, letting you fall to the ground, left to look up at the devil in front of you.

“You fucking suck.” You glared at him, not necessarily trying to hide how much you were enjoying this. As it happened, you weren’t some innocent angel. No, you weren’t a sadistic maniac like Zeke, but you knew what you wanted, and it wasn’t necessarily vanilla. As if reading your earlier thoughts, he bent down to your place on the floor.

He slapped you, and it wasn’t gentle.

“You’re a sloppy whore on your best days, now get up and strip.” Well if worst came to worst, you could say that you got him where you wanted him…just not exactly how you wanted him, or with a guarantee you would get what you wanted out of him. Honestly, you felt kind of flattered by his attention and apparent need to fuck you.

“God, do I have to do everything for you, sweetheart?” Apparently you had been standing around catching your breath too long for his liking. He had made quick work of his own jacket, shirt, and dress pants, leaving him in a black pair of boxers. You hated admitting how magnificent he looked. He was muscular, but not in the same way someone like Reiner or Erwin was. Every single limb on him was lengthy and wiry, thus the bruise marks forming on your neck. While on the subject of length, from what you could see, it applied to his cock as much as it did his other appendages. If it looked that good through the black fabric, you couldn’t even dream of what it would look like out in the open, slapping against his defined v-line and abs.

You hadn’t even noticed him getting closer to you, completely forgetting about his earlier demand turned complaint.

“Not only are you a harlot, you’re a useless one, as well.” He came close enough for you to smell the hints of smoke, pine, and black tea that wafted off of him. He started playing with the collar of your shirt. “But damn if you aren’t a pretty one…” He said that more to himself than you, clearly not being comfortable complimenting you. He saw you as a toy, a pawn in his game of chess he was playing with the rest of the world.

You decided that would be your last deep thought as he began to undress you. Nimbly moving his fingers down each button of your dress shirt, until it came completely undone and bore your chest to him. You were by no means flat, which seemed to entertain the man in front of you.

“I knew you’d be the perfect slut for me.” He groped your breasts through your bra, hands greedy with the clear goal of making you yearn for him. “Perfect tits, soft skin, pretty face, nice ass, strong will. Yeah, you’ll be fun to break.” He gave you one of his signature smirks, making you want to crush his windpipe and deepthroat his dick at the same time.

You shrugged your top off your shoulders and let him snake his arms around your chest to undo your bra and expose your tits to the cool air of the room. He didn’t waste time kissing your filthy mouth, and instead skipped straight to your sensitive neck. He slowly dragged his soft lips down your throat, kissing his way over to both sides and under your jaw. He licked and sucked at any area that made you gasp or let out some embarrassing little noise you tried to desperately to hide. He hated how you hid, he needed you to need him, to want him at a level beyond human comprehension. He wanted to destroy you, do break you down to your most animalistic and pitiful form. You were strong, that was for damn sure, but he wanted to fix that.

He took all this into account as he began nipping at the tops of your breasts. He moved from one to the other with no clear pattern. He dragged his tongue down to your right nipple, only touching the tip of his tongue to it, making you shiver in anticipation and let out a small whine. Yes, that was the progress he wanted to see from you. He swirled his tongue around it, slowly making his way to the center, harshly sucking it into his mouth. He pulled his sinful mouth away from you, leaving a trail of saliva connecting him to you. He quickly made his way to your other nipple, doing the same and driving you just as wild.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to make more noise, darling.” He teased, sounding genuinely annoyed with you.

“Well, maybe if you did a better job, I would be louder.” You had discovered your talent of keeping up with his smart mouth, and you used it to your advantage. You wanted to rile him up; to get a rise out of him. As previously stated, you didn’t want a vanilla little love making session, you wanted to fuck.

“Alright then, if you’re so keen on keeping quiet,” he put his rough hands on your bare shoulders, pushing you back onto the ground, this time on your knees, “how about I stuff that mouth?” You hated how good he was at turning you on.

He pulled his dick out right in front of your face, letting it lay on his toned abs, just as you had envisioned it. It was easily 10 inches long, 5 inches thick, with a slight upturn that could drive you insane if it hit the right spots, which it would. It was flushed pink and dripping pre-cum; it was pretty.

“Well, are you just going to gawk at it or are you going to make yourself useful, slut?” The sweet pet names were out the window, swiftly replaced with the most debasing insults he could think of. To avoid any more of his smart ass remarks, you took his thick cock in your hands. You slowly stroked it, taking in exactly how big it was. You moved your plush lips closer, giving it a few small kitten licks to test the waters. You kissed the head and gave longer licks up the side, earning a grunt or two from the man above you. As you began to swirl your tongue around his tip, his strong hand came down and pushed on the back of your head. It wasn’t gentle, forcing you to take him down your throat. Considering his size, it was no shock that you choked on it at first, but he kept his hand on your hair, forcing you to stay on him.

“That’s it, sweetheart, keep that dirty mouth on fat cock.” Tears starting pooling in your eyes as you struggled to breath around his length. “Aww, are you actually crying?” He cooed, taking sick pleasure in mocking you. “How pathetic of you, darling.” His words send shockwaves of shame and pleasure down to your core. You abhorred how badly you needed him inside of you. As he let out a low moan, he pulled you off his cock, tugging your hair just enough to make you even wetter.

“Alright, angel. I’m not a big fan of blowjobs, so we’ll leave it at that.” You coughed a little as he bent down to your heaving form.

“Really? That’s a shock.” That was your genuine reaction. You were far too fucked out to be a smart ass at this point.

“Yeah, you’re not the first to make that observation.” Much to your surprise, he picked you up bridal style, barely breaking a sweat in the process of getting you to his bedroom. Though the lights were on, you couldn’t take in many details, your cock drunk state making it difficult to process anything other than the warm, bare skin of the monster you tried so hard to vanquish.

“Now, lets get these cute little panties off, hmm?” You had forgotten him taking off your pants in the heat of the moment. His menacing figure loomed overtop of you, slowly sinking down to your thighs. He placed licks and kisses all over them, leaving a few bite marks along with them. You moaned louder than before, feeling too blissed out to care about your pride. You felt large, tepid fingers hooking themselves between your legs and into your panties. He pulled them to the side, wanting to really take you in. Despite his lust for power and dominance, he much preferred giving head to receiving it, especially when it came to women and their soft, tender pussies. You were no exception to this rule.

“Goddamn you’re fucking wet.” You looked up at you, making you lean your head back to avoid his gaze. “You must like me more than you care to admit, sweetie.” Just after saying this, he ran one long finger up your dripping slit, coating his fingertip in your slick. He looked at it shimmering in the low light of the room, grinning before taking it into his mouth and tasting what your cunt had to offer.

“You taste like heaven. Surprising, considering what a nasty girl you are.” Unlike you, he could keep that smartass act up for hours on end, no matter how lost in your sex he was. He landed a chaste kiss to your throbbing heat before flattening his tongue to lick a fat stripe up the middle. He began to devour you, making the lewdest noises you had ever heard in the process. You felt amazing, and disgusting, and just about every other emotion you had ever felt in your life. He was a god at eating your pussy, feeling no remorse in having his lips and beard dripping with your juices. To hell with the burn marks he left on your thighs and the burning sense of guilt you had for moaning so loud and creaming all over the face of your greatest enemy. Shame and guilt were for foolish children with no place in the world, Zeke wanted to enjoy every last second of destroying you.

As he continued to lick and suck at your most sensitive spots, you began to feel your stomach tighten, signaling your closeness. Zeke noticed as well, taking note of your erupting moans and groans and tugs at his silky hair. He moaned on your clit, the vibrations sending you over the edge. You came all over his face, arching your back of the soft sheets and making you scream his name. He kept his lips attached to your clit as you came down from your high, keeping you ensnared in his trap of bliss.

“God, you moan like a fucking whore, you know that?” The way he insulted you felt disgustingly good, especially coming from such a obnoxiously handsome man.

“And you eat pussy like a god.” The veil of hatred came off in one foul swoop. You couldn’t hold back how you truly felt about Zeke Yeager. You were in love with the way he treated you, and spoke to you, and ate you, and soon enough, fucked you. He was so damn good, and you just hated to love and loved to hate him.

“Oh, do I now?” He let out a low chuckle, taking pride in how helpless and stupid he had made you. “Does that make me your god, pet?” It wasn’t a real question. He knew the answer, and he loved that answer: yes.

“Now, how about I partake in some earthly pleasures and fuck your brains out, sweetheart?” He questioned, moving his arms up to rest on both sides of your head. His face was right above yours, lips hovering over your breathless, panting ones.

“Yes, please.” Your eyebrows scrunched together as you grew impatient and needy as all hell. Zeke had a sinister idea. God was a nice term, but he could think of a better one.

“How about you beg daddy for it?” He was such a disgusting pervert, and he relished in it. You mustered all the strength you could in order to speak.

“Please fuck my pussy, daddy.” That was all he needed to push himself inside your tight heat. Your walls clenched as he thrusted balls deep inside of you, not caring if you needed to adjust or not. Luckily, you didn’t, despite his size.

“Fuck yes, angel. You’re so goddamn tight.” He thrusted into you with reckless abandon, using you more than making love to you, which is exactly what you both wanted. Your walls clenched and throbbed as he brought you to orgasm once again.

“Cumming all over my cock, sweetheart? Such a dirty whore.” He teased, continuing his motions, hitting your g-spot over and over again without much issue. His dick was perfect, reaching every inch of you that made you scream out in pleasure and overstimulated bliss. All of this for a few bags of cocaine and bullets. You weren’t even thinking of that as he pounded into you, getting rougher and sloppier than before. He was getting close to his own high just as you were about to reach your third. No one had ever made you feel like this. You never wanted to let him go. Fuck everyone you cared about, this was too damn good to throw away.

“Where do you want my cum, slut?” He asked seconds before climaxing.

“Wherever you want it, daddy.” That was exactly what he wanted to hear. You had been molded into the perfect toy for him, even if it was just for the moment. He had debased and perverted you, like putty in his hands. You thought you could just waltz in there and take what you wanted from him. But no, instead you were writhing around on his bed with his fat cock filling up your pussy while you screamed for your daddy. You were filthy, slutty perfection. He quickly pulled out of you and shot his cum on your stomach and chest. Noticing you were still squirming around, he pushed his thumb to your clit and rubbed circles as two of his fingers entered you and hit your sweet spot.

“Come on, slutty girl, cum for daddy.” This time felt different than the others. You were completely out of your mind with pleasure and lust, and he was hitting just the right spots. You came around his fingers, squirting your juices and ruining his sheets. As if he could sense it, he had moved his face down just in time for it to reach his mouth, coating yet another layer of your cum on his beard. He licked his lips, savoring you taste and the blissed out, fuck drunk look on your face. He wished he could keep you like this forever. No, he would make sure to keep you like this forever. You were going to be his for the rest of time, no matter what it took. Even if he had to play the long game and pretend you had a choice in the matter.

“Well, sweetheart, I’m afraid you have to go home empty handed. I’m sure those tarts will just pat you on the head and congratulate you for trying your best. That’s why they’ll never surpass me, and that’s why you will come crawling back to me.” You couldn’t respond, too disappointed and drained to say a word.

“I have a shower that I recommend you use.” He looked down at you, your eyes hazy and barely focused on him. You were completely exposed to him. You looked beautiful. “In an act of civility, I’ll let you sleep here tonight. On a different bed, of course, considering the damage you’ve done.” You laughed at that, and he followed suite.

“You know Zeke, for a monster, you’re not too bad.” You looked at him, admiration clear in your eyes.

“You’re not too unbearable either.”

#aot smut #snk smut #zeke yeager smut #zeke jeager x reader #zeke yeager x reader #zeke jeager smut #tw: drug use #tw: alcohol

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winchesterbrotherstan · 3 years ago

Text

Altered Carbon- Out of the Past (1.01)

Pairing: Nova Griffiths (OC) x Takeshi Kovacs

Summary: When Nova is contracted for a new job, she's introduced to a part of humanity's past. The job seems to be a bust, but it becomes clear that it's anything but.

Warnings: mentions of suicide!, cursing, guns, rebirthing(?), sword+knives, blood, mentions of shitty parents

Word Count: 6441

“Just…” I sighed, looking out through the droplets of rain on the windows of the bus stop, “I just want you to be safe, E.J.”

“I know. I will be, Nov. I promise.”

“Alright, good. Look, bug, I’ve gotta run.”

“New job?”

I snorted, looking at his grin on the holographic screen. “Possible new target, yeah.”

He nodded. “Promise you’ll be safe too?”

I nodded right back, a smile on my face. “Promise, E.J. Love you, bud. Talk to you later, yeah?”

Another nod. “Go.”

I sighed as I checked the time.

Shit.

I was going to be late if I didn’t haul ass. I flicked the display of the watch away and pulled my helmet on. I straddled my bike and kicked the stand up. Hopefully, this payout would be worth it.

***

“Justice! Let the dead speak! Justice! Let the dead speak!”

The chant became static as I pushed my way through the crowd, and up the steps of Alcatraz prison. Lieutenant Ortega from the local police department had reached out and told me she would give me a ride up to the Bancroft residence.

“Griffiths!”

I popped onto my toes and saw the lieutenant waving me down. A blond man stood next to her, his face angry, but eyes seeming disoriented.

“Ortega, hey.” I held a hand out for her and she gave me a firm shake. “I’ve been trying to find you for the last twenty minutes.”

“These people are something else. Nova Griffiths, you’ll be working with this gentleman here.”

“Nice to meet you.” I stuck my hand out, and he did the same.

“You shouldn’t have come back!” A man shouted over my shoulder, cutting my new partner off before he could start his sentence.

The crowd’s chant changed, “No resleeving!”

“Well shit, let’s get outta here.” I gave Ortega a grimace, letting his hand drop.

We began to push our way back through, dodging the picket signs and the face painted protestors. A man with white and black markings on his face took a step towards us and pushed me out of the way. I stumbled backwards, and my partner reached out, preventing me from falling off my feet.

“You will not be forgiven!” The protester spat in his face.

I used the existing grip on my arm to pull myself back in front of him. I spat in the protester’s face and shook my partner’s grip loose.

“Well, that’s gonna keep him busy a while.” My partner guided me to walk in front of him as we continued to push through the crowd.

***

“Spirit savers and Afterlifers. 653 failed, and still they can’t stop yelling.” Ortega spoke.

“What is 653?” He asked, looking up from the paper.

“Something about spinning up murder victims to testify who killed them.” I kept my eyes on my feet, feeling nauseous.

“Why wouldn’t you spin them up if they’re witnesses to their own murder?”

“Archdiocese says you only get the sleeve you’re born with. Once it dies, they spin you back up for anything, even to identify your killer, your soul goes to hell.” Ortega looked in the rearview mirror. “What do you think?”

“I think no one in the archdiocese has ever been murdered.” He looked out the window, and then to me. “Nova?”

I snorted, finally looking up. “I think they’re all full of shit.”

He fell quiet as he observed the city. I studied his silhouette as he stared. The sleeve was handsome. Strong features, a strong jawline, a deep voice. Light colored eyes and swept-over hair.

“So what were you in for?” I asked, trying to get a sense of why he was so silent.

“Ah, little bit of this, little bit of that. Blew some shit up and killed some people.” He caught a look from Ortega in the rearview. “Some people just need killing.” He grinned.

I felt a grin rise on my own face, but Ortega didn’t seem to share the amusement.

“And how do you decide who deserves to die?”

My partner shook his head with a small sigh. “Depends on the day. I mean, anything can set me off. Interstellar dictatorship, genocide, people who talk to much.” He looked over at her for the last part before letting out another sigh.

I giggled, and Ortega shot me a look.

“Right now I’m feeling pretty hostile towards Laurens Bancroft, whoever the fuck he is.” He pulled something from his pants pocket.

“Oh, come on. Everyone knows Bancroft, he’s one of the first founding Meths.”

“What’s a Meth?”

“You don’t know what a Meth is? How can you not know?” Ortega chuckled. “You're dressed like one.”

“Like I said, I’m not from around here.” His demeanor changed.

I eyed him. He was fidgeting with his hands. Ortega went on, reciting something from the beliefs of the Meths. I decided to unbuckle myself and slide into the middle seat. He took notice and looked down at me, eyebrows furrowed.

“How long have you been under?”

He looked away, sighing again.

“How long, man?” I whispered again.

“Two hundred fifty years.” He didn’t look my way again.

“Shit.”

We busted through the clouds, and I slid forward, still unbuckled. He caught me by the hood of my jacket before grabbing my upper arm, pulling me back into my seat. I swallowed my pride and buckled back up.

“They call it the Aerium.”

He leaned forward, eyes wide.

“Guess they don’t have this where you come from either, huh?” Ortega gave a teasing smile.

She guided the car to hover over the property as we sat in silence. He readjusted himself back in his seat, and Ortega seized the silence once more.

“So, where were you born? Home planet, that kinda thing.”

“Not here.” He was dead-pan.

“That’s a little vague.” Ortega chuckled.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“That’s my abuela. She always said, Kristin, you can find a way to talk to anybody.”

“Especially when they’re trapped in a car with you.” He shot back.

She looked forward with a sigh, and I stifled another giggle.

“Our quick and messy little lives are so small to them. They build their homes up here so the clutter of our existence is out of their sight.”

We only shared a look in the backseat.

***

The landing of the hover-car was rough, accompanied by various quick remarks.

“Come on, last chance. Just give me a name.”

“Takeshi Kovacs.” He got out of the car and straightened out his clothes. “Look me up.”

Ortega immediately did so while I scrambled out of the car after him.

“Holy shit. Is that why…”

Kovacs glanced at me over his shoulder. “Yep.”

“You can’t be who you say you are. All the Envoys died.” Ortega tried to catch up with us as she shouted.

“All except one.” Kovacs caught me by the arm, pulling me to stand behind him.

I peered around his frame, only to see Bancroft’s multiple goons with their guns pointed toward us.

“Not another step, Ortega.”

“Aw come on. I’m Bay City PD and you know it, Curtis.” Ortega continued to walk toward them. “So lower your weapons and tell me where your boss is, because I really would like a fucking word.”

“Lieutenant Ortega, you’re trespassing on private property. Apparently, you’ve stolen one of our limos as well. I could have you shot.”

Ortega snorted. “Yeah, go ahead. Try.”

A police vehicle landed to our left, and Kovacs covered me a bit more with his own body.

“Why did you drive the Envoy? Isaac was supposed to do that.”

The police car door opened, and a man in a suit dragged a boy out.

“Look, I’m not drunk, okay? I was just loosening up a little. Let go of me.”

“We picked him up on a DUI.” The man explained to Mrs. Bancroft.

“Which is how we came into possession of your vehicle.” Ortega explained.

Mrs. Bancroft whispered something back and forth to, presumably, her son. She turned back to face us. “This is police harassment.”

“Yeah.” Ortega scoffed again. “There’s your kid, there’s your car, here’s your mercenary, and there’s your… new pet terrorist.” She gestured towards Kovacs, annoyed. “You’re welcome.”

“Bounty hunter, not a mercenary.” I scowled.

She walked past us, and Kovacs scoffed this time. “The terrorist can hear you. I’m standing right here.”

“Yeah, good. Cause we’re not done, you and me.” Ortega snapped at him before getting into the police car. I inched my way out from behind Kovacs until I was standing next to him.

Mrs. Bancroft chuckled as she walked toward us. “Forgive me. I’m Miriam Bancroft. We’ve not been properly introduced.”

She gave Kovacs a weak handshake, followed by a snake-like smile my way.

“Welcome to Suntouch House.” She turned on her heel, and we followed.

***

“Shouldn’t that be in a museum?” Kovacs asked as we walked under the branches of a large tree.”

“I have a weakness for Elder civilization artifacts. I collect them, among other things.”

“This must’ve cost a fortune to ship here.”

She hummed as Kovacs reached for one of the lower-hanging tendrils.

“A few lifetimes, as well. But cost was no object. This is the only Songspire tree on Earth. No one really knows what they are. They could’ve functioned as part of Elder civilization architecture. The largest ones ever recorded are thousands of meters high.”

The look on Kovacs’ face was one of recognition. “I know. I’ve seen them.”

“Stronghold. Of course.” She nodded. “Laurens is in his study. I’ll show you up.”

As if voice-activated, the elevator doors to her right slid open. Kovacs and I eyed each other before following her into the small room. Something felt off. We stayed silent as the elevator began to ascend. I kept myself tucked in between him and the corner, and Miriam stood opposite of him. She continued to eye him before beginning to play with her necklace. The metallic clicking caught his attention, and he looked up.

“Is it true you can look into a person’s eyes and know exactly what they’re thinking?”

Kovacs hummed. “No, Envoys don’t read minds.”

“What a pity.” She smiled.

Kovacs seemed uncomfortable, and the elevator dinged before anyone could say anything else.

“Good luck, Mr. Kovacs, Ms. Griffiths.”

Kovacs gestured for me to exit first, and he followed close behind. We let out simultaneous sighs as we heard the doors close again. We began to walk down the long hallway, trying to keep pace with each other. The study was silent when we walked into it, and I began to feel sick to my stomach.

“Mr. Kovacs, Ms Griffiths.”

We looked up to see Bancroft on the balcony of his study, drink in hand. “My apologies, my son failed to drive you here. You have to forgive my endlessly misplaced optimism.”

“That’s alright.” Kovacs looked back around the study. “The ride was very instructive.”

“Hmm, yes, I’m sure it was. Details are, after all, an Envoy’s stock-in-trade.” He began to walk down to the level we were on. “Or were, I guess I should say. Immersion and total absorb. Wasn’t that the term, hmm? Whatever answer you may seek, it is precisely where you are not looking.”

“You’ve read Falconer.” Kovacs finally spoke, eyes on me as I kept my own on him.

“I was alive during the uprising, yeah.”

“Yeah?” His eyes didn’t stray from mine. “So was I.”

“Oh, y-yes, my apologies. It’s all in the distant past for me, but for you, of course, it’s all rather different. There are very few of us now, who saw firsthand what the Envoys could do. Ah-ha. Yes. A-And I have to admit that I had a grudging admiration for you. Trained by Quell herself to be the most formidable fighting force that the galaxy had ever seen.”

“Well, that would sound better if we hadn’t lost.” Kovacs quipped.

“Although this might, might interest you.” Bancroft handed Kovacs a small leather-bound booklet. “Oh, it’s all corneal streaming now. There’s something about the simplicity of holding the written word in your hand. The very-very heft of it. As men have done for countless centuries before us.”

Kovacs seemed to leave the current plane of existence as he flipped through the book, fingers gingerly running over the pages. “Where did you get this?”

“I bought it at an auction. Supposedly, it is written by Falconer in her own hand. Judging by your reaction, it appears I might have got what I paid for.”

Kovacs snapped out of it, bundling the book back up and clearing his throat.

“Listen to me. I spent this entire morning being well and truly fucked around with, so, uh, let me be painfully clear. Some things can’t be bought. I’m not sure about Ms. Griffiths here,” he glanced down at me, “but I, for one, cannot. Now, I didn’t ask you to bring me back into this world. In fact, I fought a war to stop people like you from happening.” Kovacs began to step closer to Bancroft. “So, if someone doesn’t tell me right now what the fuck this is all about… I might very well lose my temper.” He smacked the booklet into Bancroft’s chest, and I felt my cheeks begin to grow flush.

“Understood. Now, this is a full pardon, signed by the president of the Protectorate.”

Kovacs only gave a look of disbelief. “Power is a matter of influence, Mr. Kovacs. And I have had a great deal of influence at the UN. If you agree to my terms, your sentence will be reduced to time served. And then I will open up a very generous line of credit in your name. DNA trace accessible. And when the investigation is over, you may keep this sleeve or choose another. To your own specifications.”

Kovacs said nothing, and I hung back. Bancroft turned to me.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Ms. Griffiths. Your parents will be pardoned as well.”

My heart immediately felt like it was going to blow a hole through my chest.

“Finally, I will pay you both a salary of 50 million UN credits. That’s a fortune. You can have any future you want.”

Blood kept rushing to my head, and my ears felt red hot. My vision blurred, and my body began to shake. I felt ready to pass out. Bancroft began to speak again, walking away this time. Kovacs gently put a hand on my waist and guided me to follow, sensing the loss of equilibrium within my body.

“All I ask is that you solve a murder.” Bancroft pulled a white sheet off a wall.

“Whose?” Kovacs stopped us both in front of the blood-splattered wall.

“Mine.”

“This is where I died. When Miriam found me, my head had been vaporized.”

Kovacs’ hold on me had grounded me enough for him to let go. He began to pace the room, and I looked over the brains on the wall.

“It’s an energy weapon?” Kovacs asked.

“Yes. A particle blaster. I keep one for personal protection in a biometric safe that only Miriam and I can open.”

Kovacs and I immediately shared a look, and Bancroft caught on. “Go ahead. Say it. Everyone else has. Either I committed suicide, or my wife murdered me.”

“But you’re still here, meaning your stack is intact, so… you must remember what happened.” The light hit Kovacs in a new way, and I noticed the scar on his sleeve’s eyebrow.

“I’m afraid it’s completely destroyed. RD’d, as they say.”

“So how?”

“Full-spectrum DHF remote storage backup?” I asked.

Bancroft nodded and Kovacs looked at me with a scowl on his face.

“Do you know what that is?” Bancroft asked him.

“Yeah. Just never met anyone filthy rich enough to afford it.” Kovacs scoffed.

Bancroft seemed like his pride was hurt, but he shrugged it off. “Well. I need to show you two something.”

He led us up the stairs to where he had been lurking when we arrived. Kovacs and I shared a look as we followed. I had to double my pace to keep up with Kovacs, who was more likely than not over a foot taller than me.

“Sometimes I come up here when I have decisions to make or difficulties to face.” Bancroft began. “I think about the ancient explorers, back when one could spend a lifetime pursuing the possibilities of the Earth, the oceans, the stars.”

My eyes flickered around the maps and old news articles framed up on the walls. Humanity had landed on the moon for the first time over 400 years ago. These artifacts must’ve cost fortunes.

Bancroft sighed. “I was born in London. When I first moved to what was then, of course, known as the United States, it still had the faintest echoes of the new and brash culture that it once was.”

I glanced over at Kovacs, who was tinkering with something on one of the multiple desks. Bancroft said something about the age of adventurers, and I heard the beeping of a screen. I pulled my eyes from Kovacs and followed his line of sight. A telescope spun our way, and Bancroft gestured toward it.

“Take a look. Tell me what you see.”

Kovacs and I shared another look, and he sensed my hesitation. He placed a reassuring hand on the small of my back before taking a step forward, peering through the eyepiece.

“It’s a Protectorate satellite. Military grade.”

Bancroft hummed. “It is military grade, but it’s not the Protectorates. It’s mine.”

Kovacs’ face took on an unreadable expression as he straightened up, making a subtle effort to keep himself between Bancroft and I.

What had I gotten myself into?

“Every forty-eight hours, my stack is automatically needle cast to it.”

“So your current self has no memory of what happened?” I peeped up from behind the six-something, two hundred-something slab of muscle in front of me.

“No, whoever killed me pulled the trigger ten minutes before my backup went through.”

“Which means all of your memories from those forty-eight hours are gone.”

“Completely. There was an attempted hack on my satellite feed moments after my death. Somebody wants me dead.”

Kovacs peeked back at me over his shoulder. This time, I understood the look in his eyes. Who wouldn’t?

Kovacs took a breath before beginning to slowly circle Bancroft. “For all we know, you did try to kill yourself.”

“You just botched the job.” I deadpanned.

“Mr. Kovacs, Ms. Griffiths, I am not the kind of man who would take his own life. And even if I were,” his eyes turned toward me with a menacing glaze over them, “I’d not have bungled it in such a fashion.”

Kovacs noticed and, once more, took a step in front of me.

“If I’d meant to die, I’d indeed be dead.”

Kovacs chuckled. “I don’t want your money. Or your pardon. I’m not sure about Ms. Griffiths here, but I’ll take eternity on ice. Thanks.” He turned on his heel, and I scurried to stay at his side.

If he was out, then so was I. I didn’t trust Bancroft and I sure as shit wasn’t gonna be stuck in this alone.

“You should take the day, Mr. Kovacs. Go into the city, remember what it is to feel alive. And then, give me your answer. O-oh, and please do take the book. Like everything else I’m offering you, it’s yours if you want it.”

Kovacs looked down at me, and I nodded up at him. Without another word, we made our way out of his study and, with the luck of Miriam not being around, out of the house.

***

In the car, Kovacs stared at his hands. He was beyond deep in thought. It seemed like a flashback that he was struggling to fight his way out of. He was adamant in his decision to be put back under. The driver was going to drop me off on main street in Bay City. I was going to see E.J. for the first time in almost a year. Kovacs would, as Bancroft had suggested, take a night in the city. After that, he would return to Alcatraz, and I would never see him again.

“Ms. Griffiths.” The driver caught my attention.

I looked up, seeing that we were pulled over on the main road. I blinked, and looked up at Kovacs.

“Guess this is goodbye?” I grinned.

He chuckled, but his own grin fell and he shook his head. “Don’t get involved with Bancroft again. I’ve been around long enough, and people like him don’t change.”

I nodded, watching his eyes as they deepened while he thought. “I won’t. Don’t worry about me.”

He met my eyes, and his grin returned. “Stay safe, kid. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, I suggest you keep it.”

I nodded. “I will. Be safe, Kovacs.”

“Takeshi.” He spoke as I opened my door, ready to get out.

“What?” I looked back.

“Call me Takeshi.”

I smiled, knowing I’d never see him again and that it wouldn’t matter what I called him.

“Goodbye, Takeshi.”

“Goodbye, Nova.”

***

I ran through the rain, dodging the group of teenagers doing the same. I shouldered the metal door open and ducked in, out of the weather. The air inside was stale and there were cobwebs in each corner of the lobby. After it had begun to pour, E.J. had called and asked me to meet him here. It looked like the hotel hadn’t been touched in a few years, give or take. More likely give.

“Eli?” I called out, clutching my bag over my shoulder.

“Ms. Griffiths, welcome.”

“Holy shit, it’s still you?” I turned to Poe, the AI that ran the place.

“It’s not like anyone stays here anymore. No need for an upgrade.”

I turned on my heel and saw E.J. sitting at the bar, drink in hand.

“Dude, you are nineteen, put that shit down.” I made my way over to him, stealing the glass of liquor and downing it. “Poe, stop giving my little brother alcohol.”

“He’s a paying customer, Ms. Griffiths.”

I rolled my eyes and held my arms out. E.J. stood from his seat and embraced the hug, rocking me back and forth from side to side. We had stayed at the Ravel Hotel on one occasion, for two months straight. Our parents were off-planet for a racing event, and they had left us with our uncle. He died in a gang-related shootout two days into our parents’ trip. After a week on the streets, we found our way into The Raven. We had gotten in contact with our dad, and he sent the money to Poe.

“How’ve you been?”

I sighed as he finally let go of me. “It’s been kind of crazy.” I sat down next to him.

“Tell me about it?”

I took a deep breath. “Hey, Poe?”

“Yes, Ms. Griffiths?”

“Nova.” I corrected him. “You’ve known me since I was 12, you can call me by my first name. Can I get a-”

“White Russian, White Russian!” E.J. shouted.

“Eli, stop.” I giggled before looking back at Poe. “Fine. Two White Russians please.” I grinned.

I held my finger to the pay-spot on the bar, pulling it away once it clicked. Poe shuffled our drinks out, and I handed one off to E.J. The door opened, and Poe fluttered over to the front desk. E.J. and I didn’t bother looking over. Probably just some sick freak who needed to get his rocks off. He grinned and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I rolled my eyes as he held the pack out to me.

“You can’t say shit, I’m 19.”

“Stop being cocky.” I pulled one between my lips and held it up to the lighter he held in his hands.

“Never.” He grinned again as he took a drag of his own cigarette. “So. Who’s the target?”

I scowled. “It fell through.”

“What?” He raised an eyebrow. “You? Lose a target? What happened?”

I rolled my eyes and leaned in. “You know Bancroft?”

E.J. snorted, blowing his cigarette smoke in the other direction. “The fucker who thinks he’s god?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Made this whole big deal about how his last sleeve got his brains blown out but his stack stayed intact.”

“Sounds like he just fucked the job up.”

I grinned. “Exactly what I said. So we split.”

“We?” He repeated, again raising an eyebrow. “Since when do you play well with others?”

“Shut up.” I shoved his shoulder. “It was gonna be a special case. Turns out god is just a fucking moron.”

The door opened again, and this time we looked up. There was no way that many people were just coincidentally here. I immediately rose and pulled E.J. along with me as four men and one woman, all with guns, barged in. I looked toward their intended target.

Takeshi?

“He won’t be needing a room. So much for Envoy Intuition. Voodoo bullshit.”

“Envoy?” E.J. hissed at me as I pulled him to duck behind the bar.

“Just shut up. Do you have anything on you?”

“What?”

“Weapons, Eli.” I hissed back.

He patted himself down, and I pulled my blade from my bag and flicked it open. It was the only good thing my father had left me with. A dagger that transformed into a sword with the flick of a wrist. Eli twisted a silencer onto his gun and matched my position.

“Pardon me, wayfarer, we’re in the midst of conversation.” I heard Poe.

“Shut up, you piece of digibrain shit. My microwave is smarter than you.” The man with his gun on Takeshi’s neck snarled.

“I just want one thing to go right today.” I heard Takeshi’s gruff voice.

“Clearly.” Poe sighed.

“Too bad.”

I began to creep up from my toes, onto my knees. Takeshi turned to face the first man, holding his hands behind his back.

“They said you’d be dangerous. I thought you’d be bigger. They made me bring all this backup. What a waste of my time. I don’t need them.”

By now, I was on my haunches, peering up over the counter of the bar. Poe made eye contact with me and gave the slightest shake of his head. Although he was just a bundle of code, Poe had become more human than some people. He cared about E.J. and I, in his own strange, AI way.

“Fuck you, Dimi.” One of the men hissed, only to earn a bullet to the head.

Dimi? I had to take this fucker down for sure. I’d never have to work another day in my life.

“I have to clean that up.” Poe sighed.

“What?” Dimi growled.

“Uh, he had it coming.” Takeshi nodded. “He was rude.”

E.J. had made his way up next to me, gun held tightly. Poe shook his head at us once more.

“I could take you myself without even breaking a sweat.” Dimi got in Takeshi’s face. “Move.”

He shoved Takeshi to the middle of the group, which meant that they all now had their backs to us. Takeshi caught my eye over the counter, and his eyes widened. I gave him a cocky grin, and E.J. looked between the two of us, confused.

“Good sir, I cannot assume host prerogatives without payment.” Poe urged Takeshi.

“You want to get him a hot towel?” Dimi taunted. “You’re some kind of moron, staying in an AI hotel. Possessive like a crazy girlfriend. No one stays in them anymore.”

“Really? I hadn’t heard that.”

Dimi hit the top of Takeshi’s spine with his gun, and the Envoy crashed to the ground with a grunt. I made my choice. I tapped Eli’s gun and pointed my sword toward the woman, who was the closest to us.

“For guest amenities, please, touch the screen.”

Dimi hit Takeshi in the face this time, sending him sprawled onto his back. Eli and I stood slowly, boots silent against the wooden floor. He was taller, and by now, far stronger. We nodded at each other, and he clapped a hand over her mouth. I knocked her gun out of her hand with my sword, catching it in my hand before it could clatter to the floor. The others were too distracted with beating Takeshi up to notice.

Poe’s cold eyes flickered between Takeshi getting his shit rocked and us. The woman struggled, and I made another quick decision. I cut her throat, and Takeshi began to speak at the same time, covering the gurgling sound. E.J. grabbed her now limp sleeve and dragged her to the side.

“It’s not voodoo, which, by the way, absolutely is bullshit. It’s a form of subliminal pattern recognition.” Takeshi began to explain, keeping his eyes ahead as he crawled back toward Poe.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Dimi grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him up, putting his gun to Takeshi’s face.

As Dimi continued to threaten Takeshi’s sleeve, if not his stack, E.J. and I continued our quiet routine. Another man down, another sleeve thrown aside.

“You know, it’s about the details.”

Another hit, Takeshi landing back onto the coffee table. I flinched, surprised it hadn’t broken under his weight.

“Where’s the big bad boy Envoy killer from the past?” Dimi shouted.

“Twenty seconds.” Poe reminded him.

I grimaced. I couldn’t make my way to the front desk and do it for him without being noticed.

“Fight, goddamn it! What, you lost your balls? Did something change while you were down?”

Takeshi got back to his feet, staging himself between the back desk and Dimi. “Nothing changed.”

Two kicks to the stomach. I had enough. I looked at Eli and gave him a nod.

“People like you are still stupid.” Takeshi ended up at the front desk, finger in the right place.

E.J. took his first shot, and Dimi turned at the small noise. I thrusted my sword through another man’s chest. Poe lowered the machine guns from the ceiling, and I dropped to the ground, ducking behind a column to keep myself safe. I watched as E.J. did the same. Poe cocked a shotgun and began to shoot people down, and Takeshi began to pummel Dimi.

One of Dimi’s people tried to back behind a column, having the same idea we had. I counted the rounds that Poe’s machine guns fired, finding the right timing. I ran from the safety of my cover and plunged my sword into the man’s chest, dropping his sleeve down into the open fire. The men dropped like flies, and I kept my eyes on Takeshi. He round-house kicked Dimi in the stomach, and I swallowed hard. It was rather difficult to deny just how attracted to him I was becoming.

“Nova!”

I turned toward E.J.’s voice, only to see a man much bigger than me coming my way, a knife in his hand. I struggled to scramble to my feet, slipping in the blood of the sleeves I had killed. I fell flat onto my back and held my sword up, hoping I had enough coordination to shield myself from his knife.

There was the sound of Poe’s shotgun, and the men fell down on top of me. I groaned as I felt his knife slice through the skin of my thigh. The only person left was Dimi. Takeshi had him cornered against a sofa, fist raised.

“Who sent you?”

Dimi laughed, and I coughed, spitting blood aside as E.J. came running, pulling the sleeve off of me. I felt my consciousness begin to slip away, and I struggled to stay awake. E.J. pulled me up to sit, letting my back rest against a column. I watched from behind heavy eyelids as Takeshi put Dimi in a chokehold.

“Who sent you?”

He squirmed his way free, putting himself in the direct way of the machine guns. Takeshi urged Poe to hold back, but Poe didn’t listen. Dimi went down, and Takeshi sighed heavily.

“Ask this of your microwave, miscreant.”

Poe became quiet once he sensed that he had done something Takeshi didn’t like. “Apologies. Your room beckons.”

“Bite this.” E.J. shoved his leather belt between my teeth and didn’t give me time to react before pulling the knife from my leg.

I couldn’t help the scream that tore through my throat. Takeshi’s eyes went wide and he scrambled to our sides, hand immediately coming to my shoulder. He ripped a sleeve off and immediately began to tie it around my wound, flinching when I did.

“Nova, what happened? Are you okay?”

I coughed, and blood speckled onto his white button-up. E.J. brushed my hair out of my face and I winced.

“Sorry, Takeshi.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Fucker nailed me when he dropped.” I pushed out, feeling light-headed once more.

“I can stitch her up.” E.J. grabbed my hand, squeezing it to try and keep me awake.

“No.” I hissed.

E.J. knew what he was doing, but it always hurt like a bitch. Takeshi looked me over and sighed, pulling me off the column so that he could hoist me into his arms.

“I’ll help you hold her down.” He adjusted me bridal-style and stood.

“God, fuck you both.” My voice was scratchy, and the lights began to look spotty.

“Just rest, Nov. We’ve got you.” Eli whispered, and I let the darkness consume me as my sleeve went heavy in Takeshi’s arms.

***

“What happened to a meal, getting laid, and restacking forever?”

I looked up from my plate to see Ortega walking over to us, hands on her hips. Takeshi took a drag of his cigarette before looking her way.

“I got interrupted.” He downed a shot.

“Who the fuck are these guys?”

“I don’t know.” Takeshi shrugged. “But they knew me.”

“Di-”

“They called you by name? Are you sure?” Ortega cut me off and I sighed, going back to pushing around the pasta on my plate.

“Eat.” Eli urged me.

I sighed again. “I really don’t want to.”

“Kristin!” The man Takeshi and I had seen drop off Bancroft’s son was there, working on the scene. “Four of them are just local muscle, but this sleeve is registered to Dimitri Kadmin. Ulan Bator registry.” He showed Ortega the tablet in his hands.

Ortega punched his arm, excited. “We got him.”

“Got who?” Takeshi looked over at me.

“Dimitri Kadmin, hitman out of Vladivostok.” I cut Ortega off this time. “Otherwise known as Dimi the Twin. Does a lot of work for the yakuza. Bastard doesn’t trust anyone, so he double-sleeves.”

“Isn’t the penalty real death?” E.J. asked.

Ortega’s partner nodded. “We hold onto his stack, and sooner or later we catch the other version of him out there, and then he’s done.”

Ortega let out a string of curses, and her partner looked her way. “What, what’s going on?”

“Stack is fragged. Not enough left to spin him up to interrogate. Fuck.”

“You couldn’t just disable them?” Ortega hissed at Poe.

“I was coming to the defense of my first guest in about a decade.” Poe took a shot of his own.

“With enough firepower to bring down an airplane.” Ortega spat back.

“Hey, Poe is fully licensed for customer protection. You know that. Not to mention, I got fucking knived.”

“You’ve shot people for less.” Her partner reminded her, and she brushed him off.

“So, Dimitri’s a high-end hitman?” Takeshi spoke up.

“Yeah, top of the line.” Ortega scowled.

“Then Bancroft’s death wasn’t a suicide.”

“Of course. Because who would wanna kill an asshole like you?” Ortega’s partner scoffed.

“Plenty of people. A few centuries ago.” Takeshi lit another cigarette.

Resleeved in the body of a hard-core nicotine addict was how he had put it.

“Kovacs doesn’t merit this kind of hit unless they wanna stop him from looking into Bancroft’s death.” I put together what Takeshi himself had been getting at.

“Instead of blaming us, how about you apply your impressive policing skills.” Takeshi scoffed at them.

“Less than eight hours out of the tank, and you’re already up to your eyes in organic damage and real death.”

Takeshi grabbed his unicorn backpack, which I had learned an hour ago was full of illegal street drugs, kissed the top of it, and slung it over his shoulder. He held his hand out for me, and I looked between him and E.J. My little brother nodded at me, and I took Takeshi’s hand, letting him help me off the stool.

“I could find a way to arrest you two for this.” Ortega threatened.

“Yeah?” Takeshi taunted as he led us past them. “You make up your mind, we’ll be upstairs.” He helped me stay steady as we wove through the sleeves strung on the floor.

Ortega tried to come after us, and her partner grabbed her, pulling her back and telling us to leave it. My foot slipped over a piece of glass, and I winced, grip on Takeshi’s hand tightening.

“Here.” He held my hand with one of his and grabbed my waist with the other, letting my weight rest against his side.

I felt like I was going to faint as his muscles moved under his shirt, rubbing against my own body. He hit the button to our floor and closed his eyes. I felt his body relax, but his grip on my waist stayed firm.

“Takeshi?” I whispered, looking up.

He met my gaze.

“I need to take the case. These people know who I am. I can't put my brother at risk like that.”

He only nodded and looked forward once more. His eyes fluttered shut, and he seemed to be absorbed into another flashback, like he had been in the car after we met Bancroft. It seemed to entrap him even as he led me to my room. He was fighting hard, his fingers beginning to bunch up the material of my shirt. I said nothing, returning the reassuring hand on his back. He helped me get to my bed, and, without a word, tears forming in his hazel-green eyes, turned and walked out of the room.

I laid on my back and sighed. This man was torn apart beyond belief, but he was a force to be reckoned with. This would be, by far, the most intense job I had ever and would ever work.

#altered carbon #altered carbon fic #altered carbon oc #takeshi kovacs x oc #takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs #nova griffiths #junowrites

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hopeymchope · 3 years ago

Text

Wonder Egg Priority finale thoughts

My Tumblr has a lot of anti-bully content, so it was probably no surprise when I began to watch and enjoy Wonder Egg Project this past spring. The series famously hit production delays that forced them to put out a mid-series recap episode, and that decision in turn forced them to push the final episode until late June. But now that the series (or at least season 1) is out there and complete, I thought I’d talk about how it all shook out in the end as well as the questions it left me sitting with.

For the uninitiated, here’s a bit of the context: Wonder Egg Project deals with four middle-school teen girls who’ve undergone hardships either at home or at school or both. They all lose someone they care about to tragic suicides, and then they discover the titular wonder eggs. They get these eggs from a vending machine and then, when they fall asleep, they enter a dreamworld where these eggs hatch to reveal a young person who recently committed suicide. For that night, it is the duty of the girl who got that egg to fight and defend that suicide victim from monstrous enemies that represent their abusers and oppressors. The girls are told that if they protect enough of these victims over many nights, they will be able to resurrect the specific person they lost to suicide. But of course, if you get injured or killed in the dreamworld, it affects your body in reality as well.

The squad: Ai, Neiru, Rika, and Momoe.

Obviously, bullying is among the topics most frequently explored here, but we also deal with so many other terrible things that people might experience during childhood and adolescence. Physical, verbal, and sexual abuse are all on the table. Coming to terms with one’s gender identity is raised. It’s a show that manages to tackle a lot of heavy subjects through the lens of what’s essentially magical girl combat. I mean, there are no outfit transformations or any of that stuff, but still.

With THAT out of the way, let me talk about how the series wrapped up.

It’s clear to the viewers that there’s a lot that doesn’t make sense during the show — it’s intentionally very trippy and ethereal at times — and there’s also a lot that raises obvious questions even if you grasp it. Where do the eggs and their connection to the recently deceased come from? How do the psychological traumas of the various egg-children manifest as monsters that can literally kill you? What’s the deal with Acca and Ura-Acca and their freaky dummy bodies? What are they getting out of this whole deal with the eggs and the girls? What do the repeated references to the “temptation of death” mean? How does access to the Egg Garden even work? Is it really possible to resurrect their dead friends? Is Mr. Sawaki a predator or a chill guy or what? Why did Neiru’s sister stab her? And so on.

The writers could’ve opted to keep things mysterious and hazy and metaphysical for the entire run or they could’ve provided lots of explanations and tried to ground this weird story in some sort of strange logic, but I’m actually pleased that they opted to go down the middle. There are answers for many things, but not for all. And when those answers come, they typically just raise more questions as well as doubts to their validity.

SPOILERS for the finale/”special episode” below the cut.

So, obviously the answers for Acca and Ura-Acca are centered around Frill. Frill is this interesting fusion between the artificial and the organic; her body can be injured like any regular physical body, but she’s actually an A.I. on the inside. Acca and Ura-Acca are the exact reverse of this — they’re human minds inside of completely artificial bodies. Exactly how Frill started invading girls’ minds to lure them towards suicide is kept incredibly vague, but she serves as the embodiment of the “temptation of death” that was so-often referenced in the show. Frill doesn’t really appreciate life or care about the finality of death, making her a pretty natural foe for the heroes who have spent the entire series learning to appreciate their lives and bemoaning painful losses.

Can you even believe this bitch?

Acca and Ura-Acca also have documents talking about how warriors of Eros need to battle against Thanatos, the embodiment of death, but what’s that all about? We don’t really get into it. Is Frill somehow Thanatos herself? I mean... I guess maybe you could go that route, but I sincerely don’t think that’s meant to be the case. I assume she’s just another player in the game, and she happens to have taken Thanatos’ side in things. Her artificial existence and resentment of her fathers leads her to treat death flippantly. She was programmed to be selfish sometimes, and that selfishness has ultimately manifested itself in the worst possible ways. Intriguingly, we see Acca and Ura-Acca act similarly selfish in how they drive our four heroes to risk their lives just to battle Frill. Acca in particular shows that he’ll risk anyone’s life to get to Frill, who killed both his wife and daughter. But Acca never has to risk his own life. He’s just risking other people. Both sides of the equation are treating human lives like disposable pawns in some kind of war game.

Y’all are SUPER-SKETCH.

It’s never really clear how these eggs work. We’re told that the Accas created the eggs, and honestly, I could’ve figured as much on my own. But they don’t try to explain how the eggs can contain the souls of suicide victims or how they manifest those people into dreams, and frankly, it’s probably better not to try.

I was really shocked that the girls actually manage to resurrect their dead friends. I was 100% certain that was going to be a scam and the point was going to be about learning to move on and live for the moment and appreciate those bonds while you had them, etc. And there is some of that. Alas, the price of resurrecting those people they care about is that the people in question no longer know them or remember them. That was pretty brutal... having our heroes nearly die over and over in service of people who ultimately will no longer care about them at all. Although they did the impossible and brought someone back to life, they had to lose those people all over again. I suppose this, like much fo the finale, emphasizes that we should appreciate our relationships while they last, because you can lose them for so many reasons. Regardless, I’m not surprised that Momoe just wanted to quit and avoid getting hurt after that. It’s understandable.

There’s a lot of discussion around parallels in the last two episodes. Parallel worlds with alternate versions of the self are raised multiple times, Ai gets an awesome encounter with a parallel version of herself that really brought her emotional journey to a head, and we even have to deal with a doppleganger of Neiru at the end. This leads to the revelation that Neiru looks exactly like her formerly deceased sister... a fact that presumably was part of what drove the sister to attack Neiru in the first place. Given that we’ve already been told that they were both genetically engineered, their identical appearances don’ seem that strange. But then the finale tells us that Neiru’s one dream is “to be human,” and suddenly the characters assume Neiru was an A.I. just like Frill. That... seems like a leap to me. I mean, she was genetically engineered to lead her company and never had a family of her own; no wonder she feels inhuman! So I’m not sure if I should take this at face value.

Neiru real or fake challenge

Another thing that I don’t think we can take at face value is Mr. Sawaki’s explanation of Koito’s death. In episode 12, we meet a parallel version of Ai who actually killed herself. The big boss monster for Ai to fight while protecting Alt-Ai? It’s a dark, abusive version of Sawaki. And our Ai inexplicably assumes this monster was made from her own fears. A very bizarre conclusion to jump to when you remember that every single boss monster has been the abuser of the victim that the girls were defending in that episode. By all available evidence, the Sawaki monster should be a parallel-world Sawaki who is very much exactly the scumbag he appears to be! Notice how Alt-Ai never says a damn word about the Sawaki Monster - never asks who he is or why he’s like this, etc? She’s not even surprised. That just lends further credence to my belief. FOLLOW THE EVIDENCE.

So in the finale, when our version of Mr. Sawaki claims (via a VERY awkwardly inserted voiceover) that Koito’s death was an accident after she tried to ruin his reputation because she fell in love with him, why should I believe any of it?! The previous episode introduced me to Abusive Sawaki! Sure, we don’t have any reason to assume our Sawaki is That Dick, but we JUST learned that he’s certainly capable. Furthermore, how could Koito suddenly be the ONLY accidental death among all of the available suicide victims in the dreamworld? She shouldn’t have even appeared there if it was just an accident! Although I’d like to believe that Sawaki was someone who Ai and the girls were jumping to conclusions about based on nothing... but it sure doesn’t look that way from here. And given how the show ends things, I fear we may have a hard time learning anything else about Sawaki. Ai changes schools and runs away, there is zero comment on what happened to Sawaki’s relationship with her mom... he’s just gone now.

As the final episode winds down, we see Rika and Ai fall back into bad habits, as they all treat Neiru just like they treated the girls they tried so hard to save. Rika acts disgusted by a friend and abandons her, treating Neiru the same way she treated Cheimi. When Neiru finally reaches out to Ai and calls her, Ai ignores the call and throws her phone away, thereby ignoring her friend’s needs in the same way she ignored Koito’s when she failed to record the bullying Koito was experiencing. You might even be able to connect Momoe’s choice to walk away for the sake of self-preservation to her decision to reject Haruka and walk away, honestly. And to compound the bad news that the show gives us near the end, we skip forward months to learn that Ai, Rika and Momoe have all drifted apart. Ai is in a new school, but we don’t see her with any new friends. She’s back where she started the show.

The difference, however, is that she doesn’t seem hopeless and lonely. She seems wistful, sure, but she never seems beaten down. She still treasures the friendships she built even if they wind up fading away. So there’s still a message in here about moving on, because even if you lose a person or a connection, it will forever matter.

*insert engine rev-up noises*

In the final moments, we see Ai preparing to run in the exact same pose she used back in episode 1 when she first stood up to the abusers within the dreamworld. This time, she runs to grab her chance to reunite with a dear friend. She takes charge of her own future and her own self-worth, somehow gets back into the Egg Garden (even though Rika wasn’t even allowed to enter after she rescued her specified victim, so uh... how did Ai get back in exactly... ?), and insists she’s going to use the eggs to see Neiru... even though the eggs only let you see the dead up to this point, so uh, that doesn’t really make any sense either. Consistency, motherfucker — DO YOU USE IT?

Amidst all the uncertainty that the finale left us with, at least we can see Ai find herself in a more confident place. She spends much of the series learning to stop running from her problems in the real world. Even after she gains confidence in the battles of her dreams, she struggles to face reality. It’s a huge step when she returns to school. Yet even in the very last episode, she opts to run away to a new school rather than cope with seeing Koito each day. But at last, she decides to take charge of her reality and try to reunite with her new best friend, Neiru. She’s wavered on her path, but ultimately, she’s grown. Although you could simultaneously argue that she’s failing to learn the lesson that rescuing Koito should’ve taught her...

“Ai Ohto is BACK!”

I don’t think any of us expected this finale to be a cliffhanger coming into it. And unfortunately, we don’t know if there will ever be another season or a movie or anything. Given how people reacted to this finale with such overt hate, I really don’t expect anything more. And I think that would be a goddamn shame. Even with a finale that doesn’t quite stick the landing, I still found it fascinating and engaging. The series is more than worth the trip for the characters, for the themes and topics it explores, and even for the fluid action scenes and music. And this is a series that was made by first-time writers and a first-time director! Yet I’d easily call it one of the best animes from the past couple of years. For total newcomers, that’s a goddamn TRIUMPH.

So I hope we reunite with these girls again. I hope Ai manages to get the band back together, find out exactly what’s going on with Neiru, and face down Frill. Even if they never wind up in some ultimate battle with Thanatos, I don’t know that that’s the point. All of us are in a battle with Thanatos every single day, after all. They just need to show how they’ve all gotten stronger together and truly overcome the “Temptation of Death” by beating back Frill (and her ridiculously powerful dreamworld bug-people) as a unit.

But maybe that’s too obvious and simplistic of a message for a show like this one. Maybe this complex ending centered on the main protagonist’s self-actualization and the value of fleeing relationships is more in keeping with the melancholy nature of the series.

... I still really want to see the more obvious happy ending, though. I think they deserve it.

#wonder egg priority #ai ohto #wep #anime #anime reviews #wonder egg special episode #wonder egg priority special episode #wonder egg priority finale #wonder egg finale #wonder egg

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sunflowerspecter · 4 years ago

Text

haley (a.h.)

summary: hotch doesn’t know if it’s time to move on. then he meets you, and your daughter haley.

warnings: canon-typical violence, canon-typical mentions of murder, canon-typical mentions of drugs

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

words: 3.6k

note: hey? i’m back! with another fic! after like four months! woo. i’m also almost at 400 followers which is pretty wild so cool cool. this is absolutely unedited and i’ve been working on it for literally ever, but i doubt you expected more from me anyways (the plot is also kind of sketch) anywayss, here it is my loves!

~~~oOo~~~

“JJ!” you yell, crossing the bullpen quickly. She turns to face you and smiles widely, throwing her arms open.

“Y/n!” she calls as you fall into her arms. “Oh my god, it’s so good to see you! What are you doing here?”

“My team’s going to be working with your team for the next couple of cases!” As the communications liaison for Operations Support Branch (OSB), you and JJ used to collaborate often, until she was transferred and changed positions. You and her don’t get to see each other half as often as you want, but sometimes you bring your daughter, Haley, to spend time with Henry.

“Wait, really? Why weren’t we alerted?” she asks. Behind her, a tall man with dark hair steps towards you, and you already know who he is. SSA Aaron Hotchner.

“Because the decision was just made this morning,” he says. He offers his hand and you shake it. “I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner.”

“We all call him Hotch,” JJ adds quickly.

“Y/n Y/l/n,” you say to him. “I’m the communications liaison for the OSB. I’m the only one here right now, my team is heading up as we speak.” You turn to the elevator, where your boss, Sam Holmestead, is standing, talking to Derek Morgan, someone JJ had introduced you to. “Holmes is over there.”

“Great,” Hotch says, “excuse me.” He nods at you and begins his way over to your boss, and you watch the entire way.

“Ooh,” JJ sings, giving you a friendly laugh.

“Oh, shut up,” you say, but you’re laughing too. “Now, I heard there’s a case.”

She nods. “Come up to the conference room, we’ll introduce your team to my team and give you all of the details.”

In the room, you, Holmes, and the two others from your team that were joining you— Gary Long and John Wilson— stand at the back, while the BAU all gathered in their seats.

“These four are from the OSB,” Hotch says. “Strauss wants our team to collaborate with some members of the OSB on the next few cases, so they’ll be travelling with us,” Hotch says. “JJ, want to make introductions?”

She nods, then says, “Sam Holmestead leads the team, and this is Y/n Y/l/n, Gary Long, and John Wilson.” She turns to her team, then, and says, “This is Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, and David Rossi.”

Greetings are exchanged, and then it’s back to business. “Two young women were kidnapped and then killed in Tallahassee, Florida,” Garcia says. “Each one was taken from a parking lot, then held captive for a week, and then killed. A week after the first girl was killed, the second one went missing. She was found dead yesterday. Other than their throats being slashed, they were otherwise unharmed.”

You blink down at the pictures. You’ve seen things before, awful things, but this was just… so much worse. You feel better about your squeamishness when you look over and see that Wilson is as white as a ghost.

“So, what does this guy get from the kill?” Morgan says, one elbow on the table.

“It’s rather clean, as far as murder goes,” Prentiss quips. “No stabbing, no bruising. Even the cut is clean.”

“How long did it take her to die? This could be seen as merciful,” you say, glancing at Holmes, who nods at you.

“I’m guessing just a few seconds,” Reid said, looking through his file and finding the coroner’s report, then nodding and glancing up at you.

“Garcia, do these girls have anything in common?” Hotch asks, and your attention goes straight to him (because he’s talking, and you’re polite, obviously).

“They both attended Florida state and now work in insurance. Different companies,” Garcia says.

Hotch nods at her, then says, “Wheels up in 30.”

~~~oOo~~~

The jet is larger than you expected. And nicer, too. You take a seat between JJ and Morgan, and see Garcia on Skype on the table. The rest of the group files in, and you begin discussing the case.

“So, what’s this guy's deal? What’s he doing with these girls for a week?” Morgan says.

“There aren’t signs that they’re tied up, or that he blitz-attacked them,” Prentiss adds.

“Maybe he kept them locked in a sort of cellar. He wouldn’t need to tie them up.”

“Did he drug them?” Holmes asks. Reid looks over the report, then nods.

“Actually, yes, both girls had methylenedioxymethamphetamine and methamphetamine in their system,” Reid says.

“MDMA and meth?” JJ says, crossing her arms.

“Wilson, you still have contacts in Florida, right? See who’s dealing both of those these days,” Holmes says, and Wilson nods, pulling out his phone.

“MDMA is really hard to get a hold of,” Wilson says, “I’m sure it’s easier in Florida, but still, this guy has to have some way of getting money in. Lots of it.”

“Okay, so how does he insure he doesn’t hurt them with the drugs?” Prentiss says.

“And what purpose does it serve? What fantasy is he living out?” Rossi adds.

The plane hits a bit of turbulence, and your stomach flips. “Is that normal?” you whisper, and JJ laughs, nodding.

“You’ll get used to it,” Morgan says. You nod and give a short laugh.

“The likelihood of being in a plane crash is about one to 5.4 million,” Reid says, “and even so, it’s improbable that turbulence will cause a crash. Even commercial airlines are built to withstand forces 1.5 times stronger than anything experienced in the past—”

“Reid,” Hotch says sternly, but softly, “focus, please.”

“I didn’t know the BAU made cyborgs,” you say, squinting your eyes at Reid.

Prentiss nods at you, throwing her arms up. “That’s what I’ve been saying! Someone finally understands.”

“Sorry,” he says, eyes widening. “I’m curious as to whether these girls were using these drugs before or after he took them.”

“You think they were using before?” Hotch asks, and Reid nods.

“I just don’t know why he would give the girls these drugs.”

“I’ll ask the families,” JJ says.

“When we land, Reid, start setting up a geographical profile. Prentiss and Morgan, check out the dump sights. JJ, talk to the families, and make sure the press doesn’t get the information about the drugs. Rossi, take Long and go check out the abduction sights. Wilson, reach out to your contact. I want Y/l/n and Holmestead to help me with victimology,” Hotch says, looking around.

“Yes, sir’s” went around the group, and you flip to look at the victim pages.

Holmes leans across the table and looks at you. “What do you think?”

You shake your head. “It’s strange,” you say. “They hardly have anything in common. Yeah, they went to the same school, and yeah, they both work in insurance, but two very different jobs.”

Holmes shrugs, then nods. “I agree. Were they friends?” He looks at Hotch for guidance, who shrugs.

“We’ll have to find out. Garcia, have you made any connections?”

Garcia looks up on the screen, then says, “Actually, another girl has just been reported missing.”

“It’s only been a day,” JJ says, and looks at Hotch.

“We hit the ground running,” he says, and you all nod.

~~~oOo~~~

Working with the team goes a lot smoother than expected. Your teams bond together instantly, and you all work quickly and effectively.

Unfortunately, even a day and a half after the third victim's abduction, you’re no closer.

“In his comfort zone, there are 14 warehouses, 13 abandoned buildings, 25 apartment complexes, and too many residential areas to count,” you say, looking over Reid’s shoulder as he writes on the board.

“He could be anywhere,” Hotch mutters, standing beside you.

“What are we missing?” Rossi says, and you turn and slump into a chair, sitting at the table with the team. Hotch sits next to you, a pensive look on his face.

“How did he choose each girl? Are these premeditated or spur of the moment? And why did he escalate his time frame?” Morgan says, looking around the table.

JJ rushes into the room. “The third girl's body was found. And he left a note.”

The table stands. “Reid and Y/l/n, stay here and analyze the note. JJ, keep the press occupied. No one releases the note. We don’t address it yet. Everyone else, at the crime scene.”

You nod, finding it a little odd that he left you with Reid (sure, you aren’t a field agent, but the rest of your team is going somewhere), but you stay nonetheless. The team files out and you turn to Reid, looking down at the scan of the note.

“The paper looks old,” Reid says, and you squint.

“It’s not old, it was made to look that way. See how it’s not torn or wrinkled, but it’s yellowed?”

Reid nods and looks at you, for a moment, surprised. It passes quickly, and he’s looking back at the text. “Typewriter, and it’s in third person. It just describes the crime.”

“What does that mean?” you ask, and Reid shrugs.

“It could mean any number of things. Could be living out his fantasy, could be any number of mental illnesses.”

You nod, crossing your arms. It’s going to be a long night.

~~~oOo~~~

The fourth girl was taken in the wide open. There was a witness. With a description of the vehicle.

“There are more purple Volkswagens in Tallahassee than there should be,” Garcia says, “but only one registered to someone within the comfort zone of our guy.”

He doesn’t know you’re coming, and the arrest is smooth, and the girl is safe.

The plane ride back is quiet—everyone is mostly asleep. You sit by Holmes, talking idly about how the court is probably going to rule on the case. Hotch is awake and across from you, but you can tell he’s listening.

“How’s the little one?” Holmes says, and you laugh.

“As rebellious as ever,” you sigh. “She wants to be a superhero when she’s older.”

Holmes laughs, leaning back in his seat and pushing his hand through his hair. “And that’s exactly why I didn’t have kids.”

You elbow him. “Like you could get someone to reproduce with you, anyway.”

He gasps, grasping his chest, feigning pain. “Low blow, Y/n, low blow.”

“Whatever, old man,” you say, leaning back. “How long are we working with the BAU?” you ask, glancing over your sleeping teammates.

“I’m not sure yet,” he says. Then he lowers his voice and whispers in your ear, “You’ve caught the BAU’s dear boss’s eye, I think.”

You giggle (you giggle) and say, “No way.”

“Yes way.”

“I guess he’s cute,” you say in a whisper. “But that’s a conversation for the morning. I’m exhausted.”

You look over at Hotch, writing his report and talking quietly with Rossi. You wonder what’s going through his mind.

“You know she wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of your life mourning her,” Rossi says quietly. Hotch nods.

“I know that, I do. I just, I wish there was a sign.”

Rossi puts his hand on his friend's shoulder. “There will be.” He looks over at you, eyes shut, head on Holmes’ shoulder. “Meanwhile, you’ve been looking at her quite a lot.”

“What?” Hotch says, taking in a shaky breath.

Rossi chuckles, shrugging. “I think you know.”

~~~oOo~~~

“Hey, sleep today, but tonight you should come out with us,” Garcia says as you gather your things from your makeshift desk. You landed at 4:30 in the morning, and after finishing your paperwork, you were ready to sleep for the entire day.

You hesitate, then shrug. “Sure, why not?”

Garcia squeals, “Yay!” You laugh and nod.

“What time, and where?”

“How about I pick you up?” she suggests, and you nod.

“Actually, that would be great,” you say. She smiles, and leaves you in your office. Your daughter calls you as you're leaving the building, and you meet Hotch in the elevator.

“Mommy!” the little girl cries happily into the phone.

“Hi, hon! I’m on my way home right now, what are you doing up this early, baby?”

She giggles. “Auntie and I have a surprise for you!”

You freeze. “Haley, what did you do?” You feel Hotch stiffen beside you, but you don’t ask him about it.

“Nothing! Bye, mommy!” she says before you can tell her no, and she’s hung up.

“Children,” you mutter. Hotch nods.

“What’s your kids name?” he asks, barely looking at you.

“Haley,” you say. “She’s four next month.” He hums, and you ask, “Do you have any children?”

“Yes,” he says. “Jack. He’s seven.”

The elevator door opens, and you almost think you’re disappointed.

“Can I walk you to your car?” he asks, and you nod.

“Yes, thank you.”

The walk is silent.

“See you tonight?” you say.

He shakes his head. “Probably not.”

“Why not? Could be fun.”

He hesitates, meeting your eyes. Then, he says, “I’ll think about it.”

You smile, getting into your car. “Have a good one, Hotchner.”

“You too, Y/l/n.”

~~~oOo~~~

Haley is asleep by 8:00, your sitter is at your door by 8:15, and Garcia is at your door at 8:30.

Black dress, red lipstick. It isn’t too fancy, but if Hotch shows up, you’ll look nice. (Not that you care, of course. As far as you know, he’s married).

“You look so pretty!” Garcia says once you’re in her car.

“Thank you! You too!” you say, and then she starts telling you stories from the team. How Reid will go off about Halloween, how Prentiss faked her death, how Morgan and her flirt endlessly (which you picked up on), how Hotch’s son, Jack, is doing soccer.

You, in turn, tell Garcia about Wilson’s wife, Mary, and how Holmes once fell down a well while working on a case and was stuck for an hour and a half, and how Greg has this terrible habit of accidentally befriending the worst people.

You reach the bar laughing, and you find the table everyone (except Hotch) is sitting at. You and Garcia join them, and conversation becomes easy. Until, a few minutes after your arrival, Hotch takes a seat beside you.

“Hi,” he says, and everyone greets him.

“We were just talking about how we could run off and buy a house in the woods and live a secluded life together for the rest of time,” Prentiss says, and you let out a laugh.

“I’m sure that will work out wonderfully, especially with three children,” Hotch says.

“And the house has to be big, there’s a lot of us,” you add.

“And we work for the government, they’ll be suspicious if we all quit at once,” Greg says.

Spencer shrugs. “Not to mention the cost of living would be expensive, and we’d be out of a job. Plus, there’s no one to replace us.”

You lean over and boop Spencer’s nose. “We’re irreplaceable.”

“Don’t count on that, Strauss has been after my ass since the moment I stepped in that office,” Hotch says.

Rossi mutters something into Hotch’s ear, and your stomach does backflips. JJ turns to you. “Is Haley still into dance?”

You shake your head. “That was a short lived hobby. I think this week it’s art.”

“Henry is the same way! He doesn’t stick with one thing for more than a few days,” she laughs. “Hotch, what about Jack?”

“He’s stuck with soccer pretty consistently, but he also can’t decide if he likes drums or drawing on the wall more.”

You and JJ laugh. “Where’s Will?” you ask JJ, raising an eyebrow.

“He stayed home with Henry, but he sends his love.” JJ looks over at Hotch. “I presume Jack is with Jessica?”

“Yes,” he says, huffing a laugh, his eyes darting to yours. “I really should be paying that woman.”

“Is Jessica not your wife?” you ask, glancing from JJ to Hotch. They share a look, and JJ turns to Spencer, picking up on his and Emily’s conversation. Your attention is now fully on Hotch, who sighs.

“No, Jessica is my sister-in-law,” he says, and he opens his mouth to say more, but then hesitates. “My wife died a few years ago. Her name was Haley.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly. “Oh, oh I’m so sorry.” You meet his eyes, but he shakes his head. “My husband died a few years ago too. Right before Haley was born, actually,” you say, laughing humorlessly.

He nudges your shoulder lightly, then says, “Look at us, two widowed single-parents.”

“A pair we make, Mr. Hotchner,” you say, and he nods.

~~~oOo~~~

As you’re leaving the conference room after a briefing, Holmes pulls you aside. He watches as everyone leaves the room, and says, “This will be our last case with the BAU.” You blink at him, disappointment filling you.

“Why are you telling just me?” you ask, crossing your arms.

Holmes shrugs, looking out the conference room window. You follow his gaze to where Hotch and Morgan are talking in front of Hotch’s office. “Because you might want to shoot your shot before you never see him again,” Holmes says. You try to ask him what he means, but he’s already left the room.

You sigh, picking up your things and getting your bag, going to stand beside JJ and Emily as you make your way out to the jet. You trail a step behind them, your mind racing. What did Holmes mean by that? Your heart dropped a little bit at the thought of never seeing the team you had been working with for the past six months ever again. Surely, you will. JJ and you are close friends, and you had grown close with the rest of the team too, right?

“What’s on your mind?” You startle at the sound of his voice, looking up to see Hotch looking down at you, his brows drawn together.

“Oh,” you say. “Nothing.”

“You can’t lie to a profiler.”

You laugh. “Holmes told me this is our last case together,” you tell him, looking ahead, where JJ and Emily are boarding the plane.

“It is,” he says. His voice is even, steady, normal. There is nothing to suggest he is happy for your departure or upset about it. He is neutral.

“Shame,” you say, “I was sort of getting used to working with you guys.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you board the plane. You sit in your usual seat and he sits beside you; that’s how it always is. It feels wrong, today.

“It’s not like we’re just going to disappear, though,” Hotch says to you, just so you can hear. “You know where I work after all.” You huff a laugh, your heart rate increasing more than you’d care to admit. “On top of that, we have no idea how long this case will last. Maybe it goes horribly wrong and you’re stuck with me forever.”

“We better solve it quickly, then,” you say, raising an eyebrow at him. He scoffs, and you shake your head. “But, really. I’ll miss working with you.” After a second, your eyes widen and you add, “All.”

He nods, shifting in his seat. “I’ll regret no longer having your team’s expertise.”

“Our teams are good together, for sure.”

~~~oOo~~~

After the case, you try not to look too blue as you step onto the jet for the last time. You and Holmes are the first ones on the jet, and when you sit across from him instead of your usual spot, he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Do you know where we’re going next? What our next assignment is?” you ask. He shakes his head, and you look down at your hands.

“We won’t be travelling with the BAU,” he says, “but we will be working at headquarters for the meantime.”

“That’s going to be an adjustment,” you say, looking over at him. “Watching the team leave, not going with them.”

He nods. “But at least you’ll get to see him.”

“You mean them,” you say, furrowing your brow. “The team.”

As the words leave your mouth, Hotch walks on board. He nods at the two of you, his facial expression blank. He sits in his usual spot. He looks small.

“No, I said what I meant,” Holmes said, shrugging. “Maybe you just didn’t want to hear it.”

You don’t reply, looking over to where Hotch is sitting. You look to Holmes for permission, and he nods at you. You make your way over to Hotch, sitting next to him.

“Hi,” you say quietly.

“Hi,” he says back.

A beat.

“So—” you both say at the exact same time.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“You go first,” he says.

“I’m going to miss you. The whole team,” you add, “but especially you.”

He flushes, giving a sort of smile as he shifts in his seat, nodding to you. “I’m going to miss you too.” You hold your breath, and he says, “But I figured, you know, there’s not really any reason we can’t still see each other. After this. We could get coffee sometime.”

You grin, bumping your shoulder against his. “Are you asking me out, Hotchner?” you whisper quietly, jokingly.

“Maybe,” he says, looking uncharacteristically unsure. “If you say yes.”

“Well,” you say, looking up and tapping your chin. You meet his eyes, and he’s staring at you like your next words are the most important thing in the world, “I would be an idiot if I said no.”

He smiles, big and wide like you’ve never seen and it goes straight to his eyes. “Then it’s a date.”

“Then it is,” you say, smiling right back at him.

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hehe thanks for reading xx

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thedumpsterqueen · 4 years ago

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Standards of Performance, Chapter 12: What Happens in Alleyways

From the Beginning, Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Sorry it's a lil short, it's more of a transition chapter to actually jumping into this case and Reader's now even more confusing "relationship" with Hotch. Things get kinkier and angrier and more explicit from here, but I'll do my best to tag stuff. Thanks for your patience as always, guys, especially amidst the dumpster fire that is current events right now <3 Your reblogs and tags slay me and I love it.

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary: Turns out, the world doesn't stop on its axis just because you had sex with your boss. You’re unsure whether or not that’s a good thing.

Words: 1,882

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Violence, dark themes, explicit sexual content. More specific warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

You awoke to the dim light of the dawn, rain gently pattering on the windows, and the blaring sound of Hotch’s ringtone three feet from your face.

“Jesus christ, old man,” you groaned, blinking your eyes open, “turn your hearing aids up.”

Already sitting up in bed, he paused with the phone halfway to his ear.

Shit. You were being too casual - waking up in his bed, joking with him. Acting like you belonged there. You didn’t know how he felt about what happened, for all you knew he regretted every second and-

“You’re paying for that later,” he smiled before answering the call.

The playful threat filled you with relief before it made your stomach flip, and the memories of last night came flooding back. His body, his eyes, his hands all burned inside your eyelids as if you’d been staring directly at the sun. You’d never been in this situation before - waking up next to someone you’d spent the night with and desperately hoping it was the first time rather than the last. But you’d also never felt your body sing with the white-hot pleasure it did when it was touched by the seemingly unattainable man who did so last night, so. There was that.

The low rumble of his voice brought you back to the present, and you looked up at his face to find it was twisted up in concentration, resignation, and something else.

“I’ll be right down,” he said, standing up swiftly and pulling his work clothes on with practiced speed. “Don’t let anyone touch anything.”

He shoved his phone in his suit pocket and looked at you, still tangled up in his sheets.

“Get dressed and meet me downstairs,” he said, terse. “There’s a body in the alley outside the building.”

“Outside this building?”

“Yes,” he responded, “and there’s a note.”

As he swept out the door, leaving you reeling, you realized what the other expression on his face was. Fear.

***

Hotch had gotten ready and exited the apartment before you had even processed the situation, and your mind was racing a mile a minute as you flung yourself out of bed and scrambled to get dressed. The logical assumption, of course, was that the stalker had left the body. People didn’t just end up dead in alleyways in this part of town, and certainly not in the middle of a rainstorm mere floors from where the BAU Unit Chief slept - not without a reason.

You threw on your coat and boots, forgoing contacts and makeup in favor of your glasses and a hat to cover the tangled mess last night’s tryst had made of your hair. Without even pausing to look in a mirror, you scurried down the stairwell and exited the lobby into the cold October wind.

It was easy to tell which alley the body occupied - there were an excess of thirty people milling in and out of the space to the right of the building. Crime scene investigators, policemen, and other personnel talked in hushed voices. You spotted a clearing in the sea of people and knew that’s where the victim would be, given a wide berth per Hotch’s instruction.

The team hung out at the edge of the circle watching Reid, who was kneeling in front of the body slumped against the side of the apartment building. Moving closer, you could tell he was in the middle of one of his spiels, gesturing wildly while the everyone nodded along. You joined the group that had formed around him and caught the middle of what seemed to be a hypothesis about victimology.

“ -no patterns, obviously, but if we assume similar characteristics would be present in all his victims, it’s hard to discern what statement he could be making. Positing a male in his mid-to-late twenties is statistically most likely, but stalkers of this age group also frequently have some sort of sexual motivation, and if the autopsy is consistent with what we can observe now,” he gestured to the body, “I don’t think that’s the case here.”

Throughout his speech, you’d been scrutinizing the victim - a brunette women who looked to be no older than 20, arranged in a half-sitting position against the wall behind her. There was no blood anywhere you could see, in fact, she barely looked dead at all, likely thanks to the below-freezing temperatures last night that had put a pause on the early stages of decomposition. Pinned to her shirt was a white envelope that bore an ominous message in bold, black ink:

“For my friends at the BAU.”

Not hard to guess who had killed this woman.

“Can you determine cause of death, Spence?” Prentiss asked, her arms folded.

“I’m not sure, but if I had to guess…” he used his pen to push the victim’s hair to the side, exposing a neck mottled with stark blue bruises.

“Anger, then,” you offered, speaking to the psychological drivers behind strangulation, “but I doubt we’ll find any sign of sexual assault. The unsub made it clear that his disdain is directed towards us; it’s not likely that would extend to his victim.”

The rest of the team nodded in thought, but Hotch looked at you in surprise, as if just noticing your presence. As his eyes glued on yours, his face changed, and he grabbed your arm in an unpleasantly tight grip.

“Open the note. I’ll just be a moment.”

Unaware of his boss’ sudden change in demeanor and the vice on your elbow, Morgan gloved up and reached for the envelope. Hotch, meanwhile, unceremoniously dragged you down the alleyway and around to the deserted back side of the building.

“What the hell?” you hissed, yanking your arm out of his grip.

“Did you fail to look in a mirror before you came down here?” Hotch’s narrowed stare betrayed nothing but contempt, and you scrambled to determine the implication of his question.

“I’m sorry, did you want me to take a shower before looking at the dead body? I did the best I could, it seemed urgent -”

“No,” he snapped, “I’m referring to the fact that your neck looks worse off than our victim’s does.”

You processed his words for a moment before the implication hit you.

“Are you talking about the hickies?! Christ, Hotch, I’ll get a scarf then. Just give me a second!”

“Please do. I’d like my agents to appear professional, not like they’re college kids coming off a one night stand.”

His words halted your stomp back into the building, and you turned back, furious.

“You put them there! How is this my fault?”

“I didn’t think I would have to be this explicit about the fact that I don’t want the fact that we had sex last night broadcast to everyone at the crime scene.”

You gaped at him in disbelief.

“Are you embarrassed or something? I’m sorry if you regret what happened, but you don’t need to lash out at me like this -”

“I’m not lashing out,” he interrupted, “I’m informing you of my expectations for my agents. Is there a problem?”

You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to smack that perfectly raised eyebrow and controlled expression right off his face. But he was boxing you in - speaking to you as your boss and not the man you slept with last night, and as much as you hated him for it, your sense of self-preservation won out.

“There’s no problem,” you mumbled, unable to make eye contact as you slipped past him and around the building.

You made it halfway up the stairwell before the tears started flowing. Had you really thought sleeping with him was going to change something? That he was going to ask you to be his fucking girlfriend, like he wasn’t the chief of your unit and you weren’t a twenty-something intern? For all you knew, he did this all the time. His level of skill in the area certainly made it seem like he did.

That wasn’t true, though, you knew it. He may not reveal much, but you could tell it had been a fraught decision to let your relationship develop the way it had. Perhaps even a decision he regretted now - and it certainly seemed so, given his behavior.

Wiping tears on your sleeve, you fumbled with the spare key he’d given you to his apartment and walked in. You glanced in the mirror by the entrance and your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. Hotch wasn’t exaggerating when he likened the marks to strangulation - indigo smudges, still peppered with the angry red of burst capillaries, circled your throat.

It was a juvenile, possessive, ridiculous display, and Hotch was absolutely right to label it unprofessional. And yet, the thought that you’d walked onto the scene bearing the marks he’d given you filled you with a thrill so intense you had to brace yourself against the entryway table and clamp your legs together.

Breathe. There’s still a fucking murder scene downstairs.

You steadied yourself and headed for your duffel bag, where you’d thankfully packed a scarf in preparation for the cold snap that was predicted to hit the state this week. Midway through unzipping your bag, though, your eyes landed on his dresser and the devil sitting on your shoulder, buzzing with a deadly combination of anger and arousal, whispered a terrible, reckless idea in your ear.

***

You practically skipped downstairs to rejoin the team, who appeared to be engaged in a lively debate about the contents of the envelope Morgan was holding. After gloving up, you reached out a hand towards him.

“Can I read it?”

He handed it over, distracted by another stream of consciousness from Reid. Hotch took note of your return and glanced in your direction before turning back to the conversation.

You pretended to read the note and waited for him to notice.

You waited all of three seconds.

He whipped his head back so comically fast you struggled to suppress a snort, and you knew exactly what he was looking at. A midnight blue cashmere scarf, nicked from his dresser and wrapped artfully around your neck to cover the bruises, just like he’d asked. The first compliment you’d ever paid him was in regards to this scarf; tentatively whispered when he’d worn it to a chilly 2 am crime scene. He’d accepted the compliment passively, but the optimistic part of you had noted that he seemed to wear it much more frequently after that.

You weren’t entirely sure what statement you were intending to make by wearing it, but his reaction told you you’d certainly succeeded at provoking something.

Morgan reached back out for the note you were still pretending to read and dropped it in an evidence bag. If he noticed Hotch steaming from the ears next to you, he didn’t say so.

“They’re ready to pack everything up and head back to the lab. Let’s meet ‘em there?”

Everyone nodded in the affirmative and headed back to the SUVs.

“You riding with me?” Morgan asked, nudging your ribs with an elbow.

“No,” Hotch answered for you, an unseen hand suddenly gripping the back of your neck. “She’s not.”

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youwontlikethisblog · 3 years ago

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Betty, My Betty! Part 2.5 (Hopefully the last one)

Alrighty, I think this will be my last post for tonight? This morning? But it is still in the same vine of Armando being possessive so he is the main subject of this breakdown but I will also be discussing Mario a lot here so this in an attempt to be the final post regarding this episode will be a lengthy one.

Again I accidently bought the bootleg version of the novela so some scenes and episodes are missing as well as the chapters aren't titled.

We are in the same episode of Armando reacting to Betty having a boyfriend.

Right now Betty is exiting her office, she just hung up the phone with Nicolas who warned her that they needed to pay a loan to the bank because their 24 or 27 days were up.

Mario is leaning over Armando's desk and Armando is leaning forward as they are both discussing and whispering (that part is so short you can't really pick at what they're talking about but you can imagine what it is. I'm assuming that while Mario was telling Armando not to question or judge Betty on her personal life that Betty was in her office on the phone with Nicolas and when Mario leaned forward to talk to Armando Betty was about to end her call so they are essentially talking about how to go about finding out who Betty's boyfriend is) something I cannot hear. As Betty fully exits her office Mario moves from being up front to in the back of the room by the doors that take us to the meeting room. He looks Betty down and up as if checking her out.

This small frame(I don't know if when they were whispering it was them arguing over Mario's proposal of the plan or if Mario hadn't proposed it yet and it was just them talking about how to find out who Nicolas is because again, since this bootleg version isn't the complete one some scenes are missing so I could be wrong about this one! but the episode I saw on NBC showed the exact same scene so I'm going by the first "(red)" in the paragraph above) allows us to depict Mario coming up or starting to scheme the plan.

We know Mario Calderon will screw anything that has legs, wears skirts, and breathes and consents that is(<-hopefully). Every woman who has had a seggsual relationship with him has said so. Marcela warned Paty about it before they got involved so I'm assuming that in this scene Mario is checking out Betty to see if it's possible for someone to really love(lust) her and if not than he needs to figure out a plan and a way to convince Armando to follow through said plan.

When you're writing a novel you write down the key points you want to make but as you imagine certain scenes you really delve into detail of characterization. You make sure that whatever happens in that scene that your characters behave as themselves. So you really spend time getting to know your characters. This is a general rule of thumb for any creative writer. The plus of being a novelist or writing literature is that you can really go deep into details and write scenes in really long poetic ways. I don't know how to write scripts but I've read some from TV shows I've watched and they are written differently than a novel. Scripts have more dialogue than poetic descriptions and they are usually blunt with what the writer wants from each character in that scene.

For example: (Take this with a grain of salt I don't know how to write scripts I am going off based on how I've read them)

Ana walks into the room. The camera focuses on her face. There's lighting outside and we see the lighting flash on her face.

Julian turns to see her. He is surprised to see her. He thought she was dead. He stands up slowly. The camera focuses on his face and then Ana's.

She smiles at him, tears forming in her eyes.

"Is that re-really you?" He stutters. He then walks slowly towards her.

In a script you write where the camera goes, where the actors move, the facial expressions, the mood of the room, and so forth. Yes directors do have a say on how they choreograph scenes and actors can add their own two cents but script writers have a pretty good idea of everything that is going on the scene and why it is. If in novel writing(that's not the correct term) we focus a lot on how the reader will imagine the scene and being able to correctly and artistically discribe it as well as how they will understand it because we are not focusing on visual cues like script writers but rather focused on using words to be able to paint a inner visual picture than in scripts the writer usually focuses on tone and movement. The same rule still stands though; show don't tell.

Why do I even bring this up?

This helps us understand that what is shown here isn't just an accident. We aren't being fed what we're told, we are being fed what we see. What we see is the final vision of the writer. Fernando Gaitan was the only one to write this novel and he wrote every detail with the intention of it to mean something.

I have no doubt that the actors added their own flavor as they are excellent actors and the reason why we were able to fall in love with these character. The directing is amazing as well. The scene cuts, the frames, and the choreo are amazing(tho some stills are funny and y'all know which ones) but the writing has a lot to do with it. If anyone is a script writer or knows what that's about correct me if I'm wrong!

I say this because what we are being told and shown is that Armando had feelings for Betty and not a crush like Betty did. He actually cared about her, as a friend. I know many don't agree with that because Armando was a crappy boss. We see them always interact as boss and employee but the reason why I continue to bring up the fact that he started to blur those lines is because we were being told and shown that.

Armando is mechanical. He is emotionless to the outsiders. As he once told Betty that she probably thinks he is a man of ice and later on in the future we see Betty daydream telling Marcela that she knows Armando acts like he's got a heart of stone but deep inside of him he needs a lot of love. However Armando isn't a man of iron and he tells that to Betty himself.

We are told this but what are we shown?

We are shown an erratic, often driven by emotion, and neutronic person. Now the people he has surrounded himself with aren't the most loving and welcoming people. They are pretty judgy and stuck up. So often the emotions he shows and knows how to distinguish well are anger, frustration, and most of all being erratic with the emotions mentioned above. These emotions drive him. The people around him think that he is a man of stone and that nothing moves him. However we then meet a woman who isn't like that at all or like any of the people he has surrounded himself with.

This person is kind, loving, respectful, and sweet to everyone. She loves her job, loves her friends, loves her family and secretly loves her boss. In a very poetic way Betty is color in an otherwise black and white world. She brings warmth to Armando and because they work so closely, how is he not supposed to be affected by this? How is he not supposed to be changed and moved by this?

He is an awe of her morals, of Betty's qualities and her general presence and though we aren't bluntly told this by the characters themselves we are shown this and it's not by accident and not by mistakes of post production.

Take a break if you need it.

It isn't an accident that we see Mario so much in these scenes just standing in the background taking it all in because he truly is the mastermind behind Betty's downfall. He truly mapped out and planned the way to seduce Betty and how to manipulate Armando and didn't even care if it hurt her or his best friend. What he cared about was that his best friend remained President because titles mean everything to him. As we saw in the past when Armando and him were arguing over the deal with the Panamanian fabric seller, while Armando focused on how it not only affected him and the major shareholders but everyone, Mario reminded him that he was also a minority shareholder, but a shareholder nonetheless. Armando's inner turmoil was that he was jeopardizing the livelihood of not only the company's shareholders, and his family but the entire company's employee roster while Mario was more focused on himself, telling him that he too had a lot to lose but not understanding what really weighted down Armando's shoulders.

Think about it, Mario in a sense is a leech. He gets the crumbs of women Armando doesn't want. If I'm not mistaken in the spinoff Eco Moda Mario himself says that women only ever showed interest in him because they wanted to get close to Armando. Mario lives off of the crumbs of Armando, not only with women but socially. Armando is one of the major shareholders of Eco Moda, he's attractive, charismatic, and an important figure in society and not only among the Fashion world like Mario is. Mario Calderon wasn't going to let his best friend lose the title of being President for anything because than it would be bad for him. It would be bad for his reputation to have been his close friend and accomplice to Armando while also being a part of a disastrous presidency term in the company.

Mario is charismatic, one could even say a lot more than Armando seeing as I myself even like him even when I know all of this about his character. I find him funny, charming, and at times endearing but of course that's when you look at him on a surface level.

Mario Calderon is despicable. He is downright selfish and egocentric down to the bone. He maps out this plan so easily because he knows his two victims well. He has seen Armando's disagreements with Marcela, he has witnessed first hand Armando's change towards Betty and silently observed Betty's interactions with Armando. He himself has thrown out his conclusions on Betty's actions by a simple snip bits of conversation that he's either been in the room to hear or heard from Armando himself.

Who better to make Betty fall in love than Armando? Because Betty has those feelings there and who better to do be the one to do this than Armando? Not only because those feelings are there but because Armando can stomach the job. The man who is confused about his feelings and behaving erratically and emotionally driven than Armando?

Because Armando proposes for Calderon to do it. At first Calderon is grossed out by the idea but Armando presents everything telling him he isn't the boss, that he has no morals and he was perfect for the job. Mario agrees with all of that, even asks for a bigger percentage of shareholding and Armando agrees. This gives us the understanding that Mario would be willing to seduce Betty.

I realize this contradicts my own personal opinion that Armando agreed to do this because it meant he was saving Betty from Nicolas but lets remember that Armando was afraid to face those feelings and he wasn't even aware that they were there. Here Armando and Mario weren't talking about love, as he thinks Betty is so in love with Nicolas that he is her eternal love and that Nicolas would take advantage of that and poison her against them, they are talking about seduction, meaning seggsual. Which I've said before Armando thinks lust is love and therefore that if he ain't wanting to jump they bones in that instant that it cain't be love therefore my mans thought he had no feelings for Betty(idk why bc we do get two scenes where he checks her out briefly (I am sure of this because it's the episode where Betty tripped and was limping and when Mario brought it up Armando asked if she didn't already walk like that, if he had been noticing her walk than he would have been aware of the limp but his eyesight went from the top of Betty's head all the way down. Do with that information what you'd like :)) and where he gets jealous when Charlie Zas kissed her cheek(someone once said that they were celos de jefe and excuse me ma'am jealousy is jealousy and a normal boss would not feel that. If my boss or manager ever did that I woulda done been fired in that instant))

Take a break if you need it.

Okay return back to this scene.

While Calderon does this mila second rundown of Betty, Armando and him share a stare. Either Armando wants the room to himself or is looking at him for a confidence boost. Then Mario nods and lets him know he'll leave them be.

Armando sticks to the script by not removing his trust from Betty. Instead he encourages her and congratulates her on doing things well.

In this scene while Betty has been entirely focused on the work at hand and being professional Mario was busy assessing the situation while Armando... is hard to read here. He is keeping himself composed rather than being emotionally driven or erratic or neurotic. In truth he is showing one of his best traits so far, composure. When he is sure of what he wants to happen Armando is really good at keep composure, feelings at bay, and controlling the situation. Something he later loses as he begins to get more lost and confused in his own feelings and understanding them.

Betty here is endearing, honestly I find Betty endearing at all times lol. She's super cute and such a good sport since her character is written to capture your heart, not by sympathy but by empathy. Again just like Armando how are we not supposed to be affected by such a sweet character? Constantly putting her feelings aside for Armando's, who hasn't done that? We empathize with her because at some point or another we've been her and ironically it's the exact same reason why we sympathize and empathize with Armando because at some point or another we've all been there where we let the worse get the best of us and we've learned to live with it and deal with it same as he.

As Betty starts to leave the office Armando calls her name, stands up in a slow but steady way showing us that he is the one in control in this situation. His tone is controlled but not enough where you don't hear that resent.

"Betty you didn't hadn't told me you've got a boyfriend"

Betty looks taken aback by this behavior of his. As she stares at him a bit shocked and rocks on her feet, seeming uncomfortable with this but also worried.

Armando proceeds to say "and that that boyfriend is Nicolas Mora, your friend from university. The one you've got in Terra Moda" Notice how now there is a waiver in his voice and he no longer is being as composed or in control of his emotions. As he for split seconds allows those emotions of jealousy and possessiveness to sweep through his tone of voice.

In this scene Armando isn't so much giving us body language as he is stiff, showing nervousness and discomfort himself, often we see this whenever Marcela is interrogating him but he is giving us tonality in voice.

Again the sequence as he names the list of what and who Nicolas is shows priority. First, Nicolas is Betty's boyfriend, that guy she's talked about who she went to university with, and she's got him working in Terra Moda. His priority: Betty has a boyfriend. He knows who said boyfriend is and he knows what he does.

Betty tells him that she doesn't have a boyfriend: "Ay ay no Doctor, eso no es cierto." Betty normally has a waiver her voice whenever she's nervous or scared so it's not unlike her to have it here, she smiles and chuckles nervously. In translation what she says is lost so by interpretation this is what she said "Hmm? No sir... um that's not true."

Armando's tone is now accusing her. He seems angered by Betty's "denial" as he tells her "It's not true? I heard it-" we then get a frame of Betty's reaction. She is truly concerned over this as we later find out at the end of the day that she was worried that it could cause Don Armando to build distrust towards her. Again we are shown that Betty is keeping it all professional whilst Armando isn't.

"I heard when Bertha told you, right in front of me. [Y'all] started gossiping, didn't notice I was there. You both forgot about me, no Betty?"* He is shaking as if agitated and he sports a cocky smile because he feels like he caught her in her own lie.

[*]This could be taken in a double sense. In his eyes Betty was so excited about hearing that her "eternal love" called her that she forgot he was in the room and in a figurative way, Betty forgot him.

Betty's understanding of his behavior is rational. He's upset that she withheld vital information from him after she told him she had nothing else to hide(when he interrogated her the previous night) and this is related to a professional work related situation.

Armando now sports similar traits to that of Marcela when she is looking for reasons to act out on her anger. Armando is agitated as stated before and while Betty goes to explain herself Armando grabs his glass of whisky, not taking his eyes off Betty and drinks(cantinero, otro whisky!(Now his behavior here is very interesting because as he grabs the glass to drink from it he takes in a deep breath. At first I interpreted this for anger but after seeing it a few times I realize it's panic. While at first he was composed and sure of what he was feeling which was anger, now he is faced with uncertainty from feelings he doesn't recognize and he doesn't know where this conversation is going to head or how he'll react or feel so he enters panic mode)). She tells him that it was something the cuartel came up with because she once mentioned Nicolas and since then they haven't gotten it out of their heads that he is her boyfriend "I don't have anything with him."

Then relief starts to wash over him as Betty's final words are reassuring him that she doesn't have a boyfriend. In this frame Armando no longer has a drink in hand and he doesn't seem as tense as before.

"Definite? We're sure of that?"

Betty chuckles and nods and his tone of voice returns to being soft spoken and calm, even hopeful as he tells her "Okay, okay it was only curiosity." (What kind of curiosity tho?;))

Betty leaves his office and has a slight smile and was on the brink of a daydream when Sofia interupts her from doing that.

I have this dumb theory where Aura Maria and Freddy are in some way a parallel of Betty and Armando except that Aura Maria takes on the role of Armando while Freddy takes on the role of Betty and if y'all want I'll write a post explaining this.

Take a break if you need it.

Skip a scene we've got Armando interacting with Freddy. Usually everyone pays the burnt of Armando's anger and in this scene he looks anything but angry. He actually humors Freddy which allows us to know that after that conversation with Betty, he has one less problem(you know the one that topped all the others). He then laughs at Freddy(I find it ironic that Freddy told him that what Jenny and him have is strictly professional at which Armando laughs and repeats the same thing. The reason I find it ironic is because we as an audience know that what J & F have is not strictly professional and the conversation Armando just had with Betty wasn't strictly profession. In other words, Fernando Gaitan has a good sense of humor) and tells him to show him his lil dancy dance and leaves to go to Mario's Office.

When he enters his office he informs him he spoke to Betty about that infamous boyfriend.

"What did she say?" Mario asks.

"Well no, that she doesn't have a boyfriend." his smiles and says happily. He the catches him up on the gossip.

While Armando is now showing an array of emotion and excitement Mario is poker face, fidgeting with his pen and studying Armando.

He tells him "You know what this means? That I'm a happy man!" he chuckles and looks around the room as if really taking in the news and letting the relief settle in. "What a relief, finally some good news today, ah" he says the final part as if he were an italian chef. This lets us know that Armando is truthfully relieved to find out that Betty, his Betty is single and that he is still her special man.

In the previous post I talked about how Armando went about listening his excuses to start drinking early that day and how he basically went going from his smallest problem to the biggest one as he says that the one that topped all of his other problems was Betty having a boyfriend.

See, all his other problems were a cause of stress and anger, emotions he is very familiar with so they don't disconcert him however, jealousy or fear of losing Betty, are new territory for him that alone freaked him out but the fact Betty had a boyfriend was enough to just push the boy just close enough to the edge he needed a drink so early in the morning because it was anguish.

Mario tells him he has never seen him so relieved and happy to find out a woman doesn't have a boyfriend to which we pan out to see Armando roll his eyes and slouch against the chair, annoyed at Mario's insinuation once again.

Mario reminds him of the last time he saw that same expression on him which was when he found out some woman was separated from her husband. Armando then tells him not to diminish the good news because it meant Betty hadn't ommited any information from him.

To really bring this post to the full potential of it being analytical let us break this down.

Why was it important for him that Betty not omit information from him? Especially relating to something so personal and intimate of Betty's life outside of the office? (Again the argument that this is only about Eco Moda and Terra Moda are disproven in the previous post).

[EDIT: Sometimes as I write I've got two ideas at the same time and forget to finish writing them. It wasn't only important for the reasons mentioned below but because he does in fact want to know more about Betty as he later tells Bertha the same thing].

Armando went through the five stages of grief.

Anger, denial, anger, denial, more denial, and then moving on.

He did not accept that Betty had a boyfriend therefore when she told him she didn't he fully believed her, didn't ask more questions.

For Armando Betty's character means a lot. I don't mean the individual personification of Betty as a fictional character in this novela I mean as in her inner self and what she represent. To him Betty represent stability, comfort, unconditionality, honesty, and most of all fidelity and loyalty and the last three qualities are what he is always naming. If she withheld something from him it would mean that Betty was no longer that. She no longer would be an object of reassurance and comfort but like everyone else she'd become an unpredictable and untrustworthy individual in his life. Some one more that he needed to keep at arm's length or pretend around.

Armando has gotten a taste of being around someone who doesn't judge him when he is himself and doesn't hold it over him when he makes mistakes based on his neurotic nature or anger issues. Instead he has been around someone who understand he's like that, someone who is patient and knows how to call him out on it and how to handle his erratic behavior so he has learned to let his guard down little by little and found a niche of comfort in his assistant but if she lied to him it would take all of that away. It would be betrayal in his eyes.

That's why it was so important to him that Betty didn't keep secret from him. Especially seeing as they were forming a friendship that was based on honesty and respect towards each other. This explains why that was important to him. It's important for him to have trust in her.

However we ain't kidding anyone because his reaction was possessive over Betty because Betty has given all of these things to Armando, who has never really received them without some fine print, and he doesn't want to share her with anyone else. This is possessiveness and it is not love or romantic. It is a toxic trait because not one person belongs to someone and Armando feels that Betty belongs to him. Be it romantically, platonically, or work related, a person is a human being and they do not belong as an object or property to anyone.

Armando is a very emotionally immature individual and this shows us that.

Mario then proceeds to be his classical self, which is to sow the seed of paranoia in his best friend as he starts to point out that her friends wouldn't be saying that if Betty hadn't given them a reason. His hands clasped in front of him show a position of power. Right now he is holding the cards and he is well aware of that.

Right as he see the reaction he wanted from Armando he leaves him to ferment so to speak in the paranoia he has left in him. Armando becomes nervous all over again and susceptible to it.

He is left with himself and he says "Y quien es el.." now if you're hispanic or latino you'll find the humor in how that scene ends as he starts to sing in a sorrowful tone a very romantic and a song that I'd say most listen to when dealing with a break up "y en que lugar se enamoro de ti?"

Which translate to "And what is he like? and in what place did he fall in love with you?"

I won't read too much into that as I'm sure it was written in for humor or added in for the humor effect as we've had some pretty heavy emotionally driven scenes in this episode but I do think it's an ironic placement of humor.

Now to bring the final scene that I will be discussing regarding Armando finding out about Betty's boyfriend we come full circle with Armando asking Bertha about it.

He acts charismatic, composed and professional to get Bertha to talk to him.

"The subject is the following: I've got a long time working with Betty and It's just until now that I find out she's got boyfriend. Do you know who he is?"

"Well like really know? No, because she's so reserved"

He then with a pierced mouth nods. Again those feelings are creeping back up. I get it. He's feeling paranoia, distrust, betrayed, hurt, offended, scared, jealous, possessive and angry but this proves what I mentioned about Armando having his guard up at all times because he doesn't show any of this to Bertha, at least not enough where she picks up but because we as an audience are given so much detail regarding his character, we can.

Quickly he asks her "And you don't know how long she's been dating him?" brings us full circle again. The same tone he had with Betty when he told her that he was in the same room as her when Bertha said that she had a boyfriend, minus the smirk and actual reaction of his, once again proves that Armando knows when to show his reaction and how to be in control and composed.

Bertha proceeds to tell him the "actual" story in which she tells him "dating dating? No, but he does have her eating from the palm of his hand because she's stupidly in love with him." and we hear Armando gasp and say "No." we then get a frame of his face which shows us... the opiset of happiness, joy, relief, tranquility, peace, serenity but with someone trying to be composed.

Bertha tells him that Mariana read her the cards and said that he was Betty's dream man and that he was going to change her life and she was going to change his life. I don't care for that but for the sake of this breakdown I'll mention it.

We know that Betty's dream man is Armando, not Nicolas. However everyone else thinks it's Nicolas. Armando's facial expression shows someone once again panicking.

He not only finds out that Betty has boyfriend, now it turns out she didn't just omit something from him but lied when he asked her and to top it off she so happens to be stupidly in love with him and on top of all of that he is Betty's dream man and to finish it off, he will change her life and she will change his life in the mildest of riches, meaning with Betty becoming the sole owner of Eco Moda and Terra Moda, making her rish rish $$$.

This is when it no longer is just about his mixed up feelings for Betty but now the entire livelihood of his family and everyone that works for Eco Moda.

Eco Moda is Armando's pride and joy. He does love that company which is why he started that scheme in the first place because he didn't want to lose it, let his father down, prove Daniel right, and throw away 30 plus year of his father's work and life time(Also as we're told because of his goals). The company means a great deal to him and in ways he's not aware of yet, so does Betty.

However someone is aware of this, not to the deep knowledge that Armando has regarding whatever he thinks he is feels towards Betty but they've got some sort of idea regarding this and they innact and come up with a plan to secure the company, the presidency, and his statues and reputation.

Step one: Tell Armando that he needs to make Betty fall in love with him to secure the company. Women in love will do anything for the one they love therefore if he beats Nicolas to the goal we secure the company. It worked with Paty(he's stupid so his logic doesn't work)

Step two: Convince Armando that he is the right candidate for the job. If that doesn't work, manipulate him with paranoia and make him fear Betty. If that doesn't work, tell him you were sure that Betty was in love with him before you found out about Nicolas.

Step three: Tell Armando I will be in charge of all the corny details because he will freak out and get way over his head and ruin the plan.

Step four: make fun of him.

Step five: Go on a trip and write a letter that explains the entire plan in detail and leave it on my desk without telling my secretary to not let anyone touch it or go near it except Armando so that she can go into my office, and I know how she likes to be nosy, and she can then think it's in the wrong office and give it to her assistant who takes care of all of his stuff, literally, and she finds it, reads it and does exactly what I was afraid of and made my best friend afraid of as well and that will then bring her downfall, his downfall, therefore the entire company's downfall.

Step six: never realize how stupid I am or take full accountability for it and apologize sincerely for all the wrong and harm I have caused.

Obviously I'm not saying Armando is innocent or that he didn't do anything wrong. He did. He allowed his best friend to manipulate him when he said he wouldn't listen to him again(the panama thing), he allowed his best friend to make fun of Betty and was a coward to admit his true feelings not only to himself but to his best friend. He was a willing(felt guilty for it but nonetheless willing) participant in the plan.

By now breaking down these past episodes and scenes allows us to understand where Armando was coming from so we can sympathize just a bit for him and his confusion and how he was so easily manipulated by Mario, however this doesn't mean he isn't guilty. At the start of it he too to some degree thought no one could love Betty, (yes we later find out that he did care for her as he tells Mario that he feels endearment for Betty and he looks relieved to find that out. I will be breaking down that scene when I get to it) because of her physicality (I already talked about this but when the time is right I will go into deep detail regarding this part of Armando's character).

It is eleven AM. I have been writing this post for the past seven hours and I am beat and tired. I hope this makes sense.

Once again, 'til next time.

HAHAHA OKAY I FORGOT TO ADD SOME COMMENTARY ON THE REST OF THIS SCENE.

[Edit:

Bertha proceeds to tease Armando about him liking gossip and being Nosey. He gets annoyed at her but in order to get the information he wants he stays composed and tells her that he just wants to know about Betty.

"It's not that[I like gossip], it's just that this is about someone who is really close to me everyday-who I work really close with- and truth be told I am a little curious about Betty's life. You know, one just imagine her a little ugly and with boyfriend...? You know? Why don't you tell me the whole thing?"

At first he is a being defensive while trying to justify the fact he is being nosey. His tone then changes to endearing as he tells her "truth be told I am a little curious about Betty's life." and his face goes along with the tone as he says "you know, one just imagines her a little ugly-" he catches himself and say "and with boyfriend...?"

Overall what we have learned here is that Armando is really good at dismissing his feelings on the spot, suppressing them, and running away from them(I too do that and it's a pain in the butt). He does this as a sport.

Bertha then tells him "The thing is that Betty doesn't like it much for you to know about her private life." and this again offends Armando as he straightens his face and stares at Bertha in shock and as Bertha says "How is it, Sir..." and he quickly sits down to listen to her. "that this morning when we left your office she pulled me aside and told me that she didn't want you to know about her intimate life?" he rubs his chin, eyes still on Bertha and whispers "Really?"

Armando knows that Bertha can't tell half a gossip so instead of asking her to keeping telling him, practically begging her to tell him the whole scoop he manipulates her by saying "If this is going to cause problems then don't tell me. Let's leave it as is, Bertha, thank you." his tone is somber to tug at her strings, how could she possibly leave this man curious over this juicy gossip? and how could she not tell the whole story? Especially because it's her boss?

Bertha chuckles and tells him that she, of course is going to tell him, that she is dying to tell him. Armando then tells her "Well then if this is between us two it doesn't leave the planet, go on, tell me how did it go?"

Armando starts to bit his nail as he listen to Bertha start from the beginning.

She tells him word for word what Mariana said about Betty's dream man. She's obviously describing Armando, but to everyone else that's Nicolas, so the impression or idea that Armando now has of Nicolas is that he isn't some loser or nerd or some nobody but he is an important man who is the type of man woman lust over. They will have an intense relationship that will be strong and that the man is fundamental for her life.

This describes a man that is both important and that will be for sure in Betty's life.

Now Bertha goes on to describe the man Betty told them about. He is desired by woman,tall, handsome, strong, isn't rich but has money, has a big car, and his name is Nicolas Mora. However Betty clearifies that she has nothing going on with him, that she just likes him and she feels a strong attraction to him but that nothing has happened between them.

Then Mariana tells her that something will happen because it will change both of their lives.

Take into account that though Betty's life in a personal aspect hasn't changed much in the professional aspect it has. She's got a respectable job, a boss who values her work ethic and her enough to hand over his company which means she's could be rich. She's abandon some of her morals to collaborate with her scheming boss and is doing things that aren't morally correct.

Armando's life has changed not only professionally but personally. For one he's begun to let his guard down and given more of himself to a woman he isn't in a relationship or knowingly attracted to, his relationship with Marcela is only getting worse and Betty is usually the center of their biggest fights, he has now built a friendship with said woman built on trust and respect, something he has never done with any other woman and of course professionally he has sunken his and his family's company into debt.

I'd say Armando's life is changing a lot and that's not even the peak of it. Betty's life is also changing a lot and they haven't even started dating.

Armando is aware of how Betty's life is changing on a work related level so he obviously believes everything Bertha is telling him because he knows things she doesn't know.

Impatiently and annoyed Armando tells Bertha to explain what she means by "it's going to change their lives." which again since he "knows" things Bertha doesn't, therefore Tweedledum has sowed the seed of paranoia and Tweedledee has given it the perfect terrain for it to flourish so Armando is now listening to Mario's voice that Betty could turn against them though the important thing to note here is that Armando isn't mistrusting of Betty instead he is really mistrusting of Nicolas, because again, who could really fall in love with "ugly" betty. Except that's a joke on it's own because the idiot was already having feelings for her.

They are interrupted by Guti Guti and this is where I will end this post.

Truthfully until next time. ]

#analysis of ysblf #armando mendoza #armando ysblf #don armando #mario calderon #betty pinzón solano #betty ysblf #betty la fea #ysblf #yo soy betty la fea

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marjansmarwani · 4 years ago

Text

time can heal, but this won’t

1.7k || ao3

This could have been easily avoided. It never should have happened. But it had and now TK was possibly dying from a gunshot wound and Carlos couldn't shake the feeling that it was his fault. --- Carlos Reyes Week Day 5: “Just, hold on.” + hurt/comfort

This idea actually came from this post by @trkstrnd and became this but none of my other stuff for Carlos week was really angsty so I guess I was due

Beta’d by my favorite partner in crime @officereyes

------------

Carlos could recite police protocols verbatim. They had been drilled into his head since the academy and every day since he had lived by them. As a patrol officer, making the right choice and following the proper procedure could be the difference between life and death. The rules were there for a reason; they existed to keep people safe.

This incident — this catastrophe, really — was the kind of example they’d be using to scare the new recruits for years to come: make sure you follow procedure, or a firefighter could get shot by a 7-year-old.

Carlos still wasn’t sure what had happened: there had been so many moving parts. There had been the mistaken burglar, the worried wife, the heart attack victim, the chaos of the scene. There had been other officers on scene who were not responsible for two civilians; someone should have secured the weapon.

But it slipped through the cracks, as things sometimes did in the face of chaos. Carlos would normally be one of the first to say that it was something to learn from, that now that it had happened they would know to never let it happen again. But this time was different.

This time it was TK’s life on the line, and no amount of reasoning could make that okay.

He didn’t even find out about it until they were gone. He had just turned the corner when the alert about a gunshot came over the radio. His heart caught in his throat as he thought of all the awful possibilities: it could be a fellow officer, someone he was friends with. It could be one of the firefighters - he may not know them well but he would never wish harm on any of them. It could be Paul, it could Michelle, or TK. Those last few possibilities were too awful for him to dwell on so he pushed them aside focusing instead on the road in front of him and the job before him.

It’s not until the Ackermans are safely returned home with a promise to follow up with any updates from the other homeowners (though Carlos doubts they’ll have any desire to press charges, given everything) that he checks his phone. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees a text from Michelle, and another when he sees one from Paul.

It’s only after he unlocks his phone to read the messages, nearly identical in content, that he starts to feel the world ever so slowly begin to fall apart around him. It’s the confirmation he’s been dreading: TK’s been shot. TK’s in surgery and from what he can extrapolate between the lines...it doesn’t look good.

He shuts his eyes and takes a moment, leaning against the driver’s side door of the cruiser, to let the fear and dread wash over him. He and TK, well, Carlos isn’t all that sure what they are, to be perfectly honest; but he does know what they could be. He thinks they’re on the way there too. He thinks they could have something wonderful, but that’s not possible if TK is dead.

Even thinking the word, even considering the possibility brings tears to his eyes but he pushes them back down. He opens his eyes to check on his partner, who is still on the front porch speaking to Mrs. Ackerman. He still has a few moments of solitude before he’ll have to answer any questions. He sags against the car as he lets the weight of this fear crash over him. It feels almost intrusive, to care so much when he has no claim on the other man; when they have no label for this thing they are building. But they were building it, and Carlos doesn’t want to be left with only the memory of the process.

As much as he doesn’t want that, he’s afraid that might be exactly what he gets and he hates it.

He straightens up and shoots off quick replies — thanking them both for the information and asking them to keep him posted. Then he glances at the time and takes a deep breath — there are two hours left in his shift. He can last two hours. He doesn’t know how to explain this to anyone else, doesn’t know how he could possibly explain to his boss that he needs to leave early because this guy he might be kind of dating might die. He doesn’t know how to explain it to anyone, so when his partner returns to the car he gives her a tight smile and starts the car so they can head back to the precinct and their paperwork.

He doesn’t want to dwell on his thoughts of TK hurt, of TK in surgery, of TK possibly dying so instead he focuses on the how. Namely, how was a gun — that they knew about — not secured; how had this happened with a large police presence?

Why hadn’t he noticed before it was too late?

He tells himself he wasn’t there when the shots were fired, he reminds himself that there were other officers there, that he wasn’t responsible for this fuck up. But no matter many times he repeats it to himself, he doesn’t believe it. He was there, he knew how things should have gone and he hadn’t made sure they were done. And now TK was paying the price. This was his fault.

He carefully avoids the subject with his partner and upon their return to the station, he buries himself in paperwork, the words in front of him a blur as he checks his phone every other minute and counts down the seconds to the end of his shift. He keeps to himself, carefully avoiding the talk and conjecture of what had happened at the last call. He pretends to not hear those asking for a recount of the events, he only speaks to his Captain when asked to give his version. He tells her the truth: this could have been avoided; it should have never happened. She nods and thanks him, and he returns to his private waiting game.

Finally, after what seems like a lifetime, his shift is over and he is finally able to go to where his head and his heart have been the whole night. Arriving at the hospital is easy, it’s the going in that’s hard. As much as he wants to know there is a part of his brain that reminds him that these last few moments of not knowing might be the last moments he has in a reality where TK Strand still exists. Walking through those doors could change that, and it’s almost enough to keep him in his car.

In the end, the need to know wins out. Carlos has never been one to run from things and he is determined to keep it that way. Even if what he is running to is his own heartbreak, he is determined to face it head-on. And so he opens his car door and climbs out, heading towards the door and the possibility of a new reality.

He finds the correct waiting room quickly; the large group is pretty noticeable, especially at the late hour. He gets curious gazes from most and a sympathetic look from Paul. He nods at them all before his eyes zero in on the room at the center of it all, the door to which their eyes keep gravitating. He takes a deep breath and strides across the room, slowing as he reaches the doorway and the scene within reveals itself.

It is TK in the bed and, according to the monitors, he is alive, but after having known TK for several months now Carlos scarcely believes it. TK is always moving; a study in perpetual motion. Even when they sit, on the rare nights they settle in for a movie, he is never still. He shifts, he fiddles with his necklace. TK Strand does not hold still and to see him so stationary and lifeless is wrong on levels Carlos doesn’t even want to contemplate.

He steps inside quietly, not wanting to startle the Captain who is speaking softly, who only has eyes for his son. Owen still turns, despite his efforts, and when their eyes meet Carlos can tell that he isn’t fooling the other man for one moment. Seeing TK like this, in such a foreign state has breached the barriers he has so carefully maintained all night and he can feel the moisture in his eyes. The Captain’s expression filters through several emotions within a moment and he settles on understanding. He knows what they are to each other; or at least what TK is to Carlos. He stands and offers Carlos some time and Carlos means it when he says he doesn’t want to impose. He doesn’t want to pull TK’s father away from his son, he doesn’t want to put anyone else out when this was all his fault anyway.

But the Captain insists and soon Carlos is left alone with the shell of the man he just might love. He falls into the chair beside the bed and runs a hand through TK’s hair before reaching out and wrapping a hand tenderly around his arm. He knows that in a movie this would be the big romantic speech, the moment the character proclaims his love for the person in the bed. But as much as he does want that, as much as it may be true, proclamations of love are not his highest priority right now. Right now he just needs TK to live. Anything that comes after that, he can handle. Instead, as he leans in, he offers something else.

“I’m so sorry,” he says thickly, voice low and heavy with tears, “this shouldn’t have happened I...I’m so sorry Ty. Just…” he trailed off, using his free hand to angrily wipe away the tears sliding down his face, “just, hold on. You can’t leave us yet. We need you — I need you.”

He let the silence of the ambient noises fill the room as he stared at the man before him. Soon he is joined by the rest of the crew but not even the firm and comforting hand on his shoulder from Paul can make this any better.

If TK didn’t make it through this, he didn’t know how he would be able to live with himself.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #tarlos #my writing #usermaximus #userac #tuserpaige #reyesstrand #userkimmy #userjilly #jazzyjess

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