#based on phrasing i think it's the first. but if it's the second. hm !

[cute-chamomile]

Every day I sit and wonder how to interpret work texts !

[writeforfandoms]

Island - 1

Find the series masterlist

Here we are with a new series! I know, I know. I couldn't resist. This is a crossover with Ark: Survival Evolved but I don't think you need to know anything about the games beyond dinosaurs. And ice age critters.

You've been on the Island for a long time, and been alone for a while. So when you find a group of four men clearly new to the Island, you figure you'll take them under your wing.

After all, what's the worst that can happen?

Eventual Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x f!reader

Word count: 4k

The first body was easy to spot, laying in the open on his back. He still had his clothes on, at least, sturdy-looking boots catching your eye with a twist of envy. 

The one beyond him was a little harder to spot, in the shade and wearing dark clothes also, so he blended better. 

Pulling Bessie to a halt, you slid down and patted her side, murmuring for her to stay put. A long stick was easy to find, and you approached the first man with caution. His chest rose and fell slowly - still alive. You took a moment to observe him while he was out. Thick, short hair, muttonchops, nose charmingly crooked. Hm. Hopefully he wouldn’t die so fast as the last one. 

Crouching down a little ways away, you used the stick to poke him. Some people, you’d learned the hard way, came up swinging. 

This one didn’t. He inhaled sharply once, after two pokes, his eyes snapping open. They were the most vibrant blue you’d ever seen on a person. 

“What–?” he started to ask, head turning towards you.

“Easy,” you murmured, holding your hands up in a show of good faith. “I’ll answer all your questions, I promise. Here. Have some water.” You held out a skin to him, watching him drink. He didn’t guzzle it, at least, taking two swallows before handing it back. 

“Where am I?” 

“I’ll answer all your questions,” you reiterated, looking beyond him to the second man. “But first I want to see if that guy is still alive.”

He was on his feet faster than you would have expected, taking a couple staggering steps before finding his stride. “Simon,” he murmured, taking a knee next to the other man. “Oi. Simon.”

Simon woke with a low groan, and you handed the water skin to the first man. You could see two more in the bushes, one of them already stirring on his own. 

“You know those two, then?” If they did… a whole group. It had been a long time since you’d seen a whole group dropped in together. 

“Johnny,” Simon rasped. 

“And Gaz,” the first one said, a hint of relief in his tone. “C’mon, boys, on your feet now.” It took him astoundingly little time to have all of them on their feet. You stood back a little, impressed and a little intimidated. 

They were all big men, clearly strong. You did have Bessie and a weapon, but you preferred not to use them if you didn’t have to. 

“Now,” the first one said, turning back to you. “Where are we?” 

“Welcome to the Island.” You smiled wryly at them. “Don’t ask me how you got here, because I don’t know. I woke up here, same as you lot did. Come on, I’ve got food and more water back at base.” You turned away from them, walking back to Bessie. 

“What the fuck?” One of them, Gaz you thought, exclaimed upon seeing Bessie.

“I know,” you soothed. “She looks scary, but she won’t hurt you. She listens to me.” You patted the big Trike’s nose, grinning when she rumbled affectionately at you. 

“That’s a triceratops.” Gaz was staring at her, unblinking. 

“Oh, that right? I hadn’t noticed.” You grinned, though, to take the sting out of your words. 

“How…?” He trailed off, clearly uncertain how to even phrase that question. 

“I don’t know,” you answered with a little sigh. “Come on, keep up. I’ll explain on the way.” You whistled a short note to Bessie, for her to follow you, and started walking. All four men kept up with you easily. 

“Alright. Well. Like I mentioned, this is the Island. It’s… I don’t know how it’s possible. But it is. Yes, she is a triceratops. No, she’s not the only dinosaur here.” You paused and licked your lips, glancing at your new companions. “This place makes very little sense, honestly.” 

“How did you know to find us?” That was the first man again. 

“I didn’t. Today’s a gathering day, so Bessie and I were just out gathering resources.” You nodded back to the laden bags on Bessie’s sides. “Found you lot by accident.” 

“You’re acting like this is normal,” the Scottish one, Johnny you were pretty sure, said, eyeing you warily.

You huffed soft amusement at him. “I woke up here, same as you,” you answered, smiling a little. “Someone took me in then, showed me the ropes, same as I’ll show you. And you lot aren’t the first I’ve found and taken in. Happens pretty regularly.” 

“What happened to the rest?” Gaz sounded like he almost didn’t want the answer.

“They died.” You swallowed back the memories that evoked. “Not too far from base now.” You glanced at each of them and gave your name. Which is how you learned some of them had other names - Ghost and Soap, particularly. The first one you’d woken was Price. 

“What is this place?” Soap asked, looking around as you walked. 

“Not really sure,” you answered, pausing a moment to look around. Just in case. Never hurt to be on the lookout for predators. “Some forgotten island a mad scientist took over? Some kind of social experiment? Dunno. Doesn’t really matter, anyway.” 

“Are you alone here?” That was Price, those eyes fixed on you. 

“I’m the last of my tribe, yeah.” You shrugged. “But there are other tribes here. I’ll explain more later, if you want. We’ve got to get up here, then around to base.” You led the way, long used to the trek as you headed up the hill. 

Your base was in a nice defensible location, backed up to a steep drop with a solid row of spiked fencing keeping dangerous things out. You pulled open the gate for them, ushering the men through first and then guiding Bessie through. 

“Home sweet home,” you told them with a little smile. It was better than it had been when you’d arrived - you now had several crop plots and berry bushes, a nice paddock set up for Bessie and Watermelon, a separate paddock for Ripper, and a house with plenty of room, even with four new clan members. 

“You did all this?” Soap sounded impressed.

“Goodness no,” you laughed, taking one bag off of Bessie and setting it aside. “No, I’ve had help, most of the time. Some of this was established when I arrived here, but I added the crop plots.” You took off the second bag and ushered Bessie in with Watermelon. “Food first, I’m guessing?” You started for the house without actually waiting for an answer, hauling one of the bags with you. The other could stay outside for a while. 

The four were quiet as they looked around, something for which you were grateful. It gave you a chance to debate your options. You didn’t have enough stew for five people, but you did still have plenty of berries, and it wouldn’t take long to make up a batch of quick rolls. It wouldn’t be a feast, but it would tide them over. 

“You said you don’t know how we got here,” Price said, deliberately making noise as he walked closer to you.

“Right.” You focused on grabbing ingredients for the rolls, sparing him only a quick glance. 

“How long have you been here, then?” 

You actually had to think about it for a moment, head tipped to one side. “Seven hundred and twenty… two days. No. Twenty three.” 

“Almost two years?” Gaz asked, clearly shamelessly eavesdropping. 

“Almost.” You frowned down at the dough, adding a little more water to it. 

“And you’ve been doing this the whole time?” Price made a vague motion to the base.

“Pretty much.” You shrugged, giving the dough one more stir before you separated it out. “I’ve traveled, of course. Read through all the notes I could find. Learned the skills needed to survive here.” You shrugged again. “That’s how it goes here. I’ll be happy to teach you all as well.” 

Price blew out a slow breath. “You haven’t found a way off the island.”

“Of course not.” You rolled your eyes. “Nobody has. I don’t even know if there is a way off the Island. I mean, there must be, the supply drops come from somewhere, but I’ve never seen a plane or anything.” 

“There are supply drops?” Soap’s turn to eavesdrop.

“Of course.” You transferred the rolls to a baking stone, setting them carefully in the oven. Not as nice as a modern one, of course, but you’d only burnt a few rolls before figuring out how to make it work. “Daily, in different areas. I’ve got a big map up on that wall.” You pointed and grinned at the subsequent migration. “Home is the big blue dot.” 

More leisurely, you strolled over to stand behind the men, observing the map. It was a complete map, with bases marked accordingly. 

“What’s this, then?” Soap pointed to a green marker out on the plains.

“The horse tribe.” You rolled your eyes. “Pricks. They’re not particularly friendly.” 

“I take it they use horses,” Gaz said, flicking a grin at you. 

“Yeah. Exclusively. They will trade for carrots, at least, so they can be reasonable.” You shrugged. “Not often, but it happens.” 

“And here?” Ghost pointed to the red dot up between two mountains. 

“The Painted Ladies.” You looked away from the map. “They’re… a little zealous. Have no use for males, of any species. They use the red berries to make a dye and mark everything with it - themselves, saddles, clothes.” 

“That it?” Price this time, examining the map more closely.

“I haven’t checked in a while, but there used to be a tribe down here, between the base of this mountain and the swamp. No idea why they chose there, but it’s not my problem.” You shrugged. “Oh! And hypothetically there’s the sky tribe, built mobile bases on a few quetzal, but I’m not convinced that’s real.” 

You left them to continue examining the map, checking the food and tapping your fingers against the table. Still didn’t feel like enough, not with four of them. So you pulled out an extra slab of meat from the preserving bin, slapping that in a pan with some herbs and a few potatoes chopped up. There. That’d do. 

“There are plates and cups in that cupboard,” you said, pointing, hoping one of them would take the hint. “If you wanna wash up, that’s out back. Just don’t drink the water.” 

“On it,” Gaz said, moving to get the plates and cups. He even found the utensils with a little poking around. Good man. 

Dinner was… stilted. You had gotten accustomed to being alone again, and they were still adjusting. Not that you blamed them - you’d been in shock the first three days you’d been here. They were doing better than you.

Then again, they all knew each other, so that probably helped. And, honestly, they looked like they were military. Big guys like them, combined with the way they’d looked at the map and the way they carried themselves… Pinged as military in your mind. You’d seen their type before. 

You took the dishes out back to clean, waving off their offers. You needed a bit of quiet time to yourself. 

Four new people, all at once. A group. You’d only seen pairs come in before, not a group of four. Honestly, it made you wonder all over again about whoever was running this. What did they want? What was the point of this? 

Maybe there was none. Maybe it was all just an elaborate form of torture. You sure didn’t know anybody who’d made it out alive. 

You snorted softly, shaking your head. No point wondering about it. You had too much to do. 

Especially with four more people to feed. That would be a lot. 

You blew out a breath. Hopefully these ones would outlive you. You didn’t know if you could handle losing any more people. 

“Ma’am?” 

You jumped, startled, and looked at Gaz’s sheepish expression. “Yes, Gaz?” 

“Want me to take anything in for you?” 

You huffed out a little laugh. “Insistent, huh? Yeah, alright, you can take the plates in. I’ll show you where the bedding is once I’m done out here.” 

Gaz nodded, picking up the plates, though he didn’t move yet. “You alright?” 

You shot him an amused smile. “I should be asking you that.” 

He shrugged, looking down. “Big change for you, too,” he murmured, fingers shifting around the plates.

Your smile softened a little. “It is,” you admitted. “But I’m okay. It’s good to have people to talk to again. I’ll make sure to teach you everything you need to know about this place.” 

He nodded, searching your gaze for a few moments before he left. 

They all opted to bunk down together, which made life easier for you. The house was an open floor plan, so you just pushed some things out of the way, gave them bedding, and left them to it. 

You, of course, did last rounds before bed, checking on your three tames, checking the fence, and checking the surrounding area through the slats in the fence. A few pachys, a parasaur, and a stego farther out. Quiet out tonight. Good. 

The few crystals you’d left out all day were glowing softly now that night had fallen, so you brought those inside. The glow was soft, diffuse enough that it wouldn’t keep anyone awake (hopefully), but would still provide some illumination. 

In case any of them needed it. Or you. 

Murmuring a soft good night to them, you grabbed your own bedding and curled up in your favorite corner. It didn’t take long to drop off to sleep. 

You were surprised when they woke at sunrise, same as you. You let them take care of themselves, instead pulling water to boil and working on biscuits. They were easy to make and lasted a few days, although you doubted they’d be around that long. 

“You said there are supply drops?” Price asked, standing to one side while you worked.

“Mmhm. Not in the same spot, but they come down.”

“If you’re planning to go to any today, I’d like to go with you.” 

You straightened after putting the last batch of biscuits in the oven, dusting your hands off. “I’ve got a few questions first. You lot military?” 

“Yes.” He crossed his arms over his chest, watching you more closely.

You nodded. “Good. Think you can trust me enough to keep you all out of the worst of the trouble until you learn the ropes?” 

His lips twitched. “Do we have a choice?”

“Always.” You frowned at him, disapproving. “You never have to stay here. If you really want to leave and try on your own, I can give you some supplies and advice. You’re not beholden to me, or anything like that.” 

He only smiled, apparently pleased. “We’ll follow your lead.” 

You blinked, not having expected that. “Uh. Good.” You ignored one of them snickering behind you and took the freshly-boiled water off the flame. “Right, those’ll take a bit. Let me show you the guns.” 

That got all of their attention, and they all followed you outside to the weapons cabinet. You opened it with a little flourish, grinning at their expressions. 

A few bows and crossbows sat on one side, arrows piled neatly below. Your pistol you picked up, tucking away so they didn’t get any ideas. 

Which still left three longneck rifles, another pistol, and one (slightly broken) assault rifle. 

“Quite a stash,” Soap murmured, going for one of the rifles. 

“They come in some of the supply drops,” you offered, stepping back to give them better access. “And ammo, which is below. The assault rifle is broken, haven’t the foggiest what to do with it.”

“I do.” Ghost picked that one up and stepped away. You let him. Not like he could make it any more broken.

“Please don’t shoot any of them here, you’ll scare the tames, and that will end badly for everyone.” You left them to the guns, going to grab Bessie’s bags again. 

“Not a problem,” Price assured you, taking one of the longnecks. Gaz and Soap each had one as well. 

You nodded once, making sure both bags were empty and in good condition before you hung them on the side of the paddock. You’d take Bessie with you when you taught them how to hunt here. 

You had a feeling at least one of them would be a bit… resistant to eating meat after this. 

The biscuits went over well - Gaz ate four in one sitting. You packed up several more in a bag, along with two water skins freshly filled. 

“Alright,” you murmured, taking them outside again. “Look for blue smoke, that’s usually what they use for the supply drops. Sometimes green. Once in a great while, yellow.” 

“Blue,” Gaz called after only a few seconds, pointing. Towards the beach. Good. 

“Green,” Soap called less than a minute later. You sucked your teeth when you saw that one - towards the mountain. Not good. 

“Right,” you mumbled, chewing your lip. “We’re going for blue first. We’ll hunt along the way.” 

Nobody said a word against your plan, which was frankly miraculous. You got Bessie ready again, whistling for her to follow. 

“You tamed her?” Price fell into step next to you at the head of the group. 

“Her, yeah.” You smiled. “The other two, no. Watermelon was tamed by the guy before you lot - Jasper. Nice guy. Former marine.” You shrugged. 

“And the other?” 

“Ripper was tamed by my mentor, Tom. He left her to me, made sure she knew I was friendly.” Your smile was tinted bittersweet at the memory of Tom. You firmly maintained you couldn’t have had a better mentor. 

Not like you’d turned out to be. 

“How does that work?” 

You huffed, shaking your head even as you continued to scan for danger. “That’s at least a week two project, Price. Gotta learn the basics first.” 

“Alright.” He seemed amused now. “Tell me more about the supply drops.”

You shot him an amused look. “I take it you’re in charge of the boys.” 

“That obvious, eh?” His lips twitched. 

“With that tone of voice? Yeah.” You grinned, though. “Supply drops usually have all kinds of things. Clothes, weapons, ammo, medicine, food. Anything that can���t easily be made here, or requires technical skills that can’t easily be learned. Sometimes notes, manuals, things like that.”

“And they drop daily.”

“Usually, yeah. They aren’t in the same spot every day, so they’re not always close enough to grab. We got lucky with this one on the coast, actually. The coast is less dangerous than the mountains.” You paused to take a quick look around, just to be safe, before you continued on. “As long as you don’t go in the ocean, anyway. Practically everything in the ocean wants to kill you.” 

Quiet fell for a little while as you all walked. There was still a little bit of light forest between you and the coast, and the supply drop. The forest was usually quiet here, but not always. Fortunately, they seemed to note your caution and followed your lead, all without a word. 

You could get used to that. 

“I see the drop.” You blew out a slow breath. Once again, through the forest without incident. And still with plenty of time to let them do some hunting. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.” 

Ghost set up keeping an eye on the surrounding area while you and Gaz pulled the top off the crate. 

You whistled at the contents. Small bottles of medicine, bandages, a few splints, another pistol and ammo… And an oiled coat, which you promptly held up to check the size. That would come in handy on rainy days. 

“This is a good haul,” you murmured. Coat looked too big for you. Damn. “Alright, let’s load up Bessie, make sure you cushion those medicine bottles.” 

They worked easily, efficiently. Even if you did catch Soap side-eyeing Bessie when the trike huffed. 

You broke down the crate the rest of the way, tying the pieces together and attaching that to the leather harness. Good. 

“Right,” you murmured. “Hunting next, I s’pose.” You blew out a breath, hands on your hips, looking down towards the water. “We’ll start easy.”

“Oi,” Soap started, indignant. 

“Easy for me,” you corrected with a little grin. “Come on. I can usually find dodos down this way.” A short whistle for Bessie to follow and you started down the beach, letting the others follow at their own pace. 

The beach was usually quiet. At least, here it was. The swamp… much less so. But here? Not a problem. 

“There we go,” you murmured, stopping far enough away that the dodos wouldn’t freak out. Not that they did anyway - they were pretty stupid. “Five of ‘em, that’s good. Right, just aim for the heads. They’re not smart and they’re not fast, I’m sure you can get ‘em.” 

You stood to the side, letting them figure out how they wanted to do this. You were only a little amused when Price approached it in a very military fashion - he sent Soap and Ghost around to the other side to help pen in the big dumb birds. 

Honestly, it didn’t take them any time at all to take down the birds. You whistled lowly. They were efficient. 

“Keep this up and you won’t need me,” you joked, patting Bessie’s side.

“Think we still have a few things to learn,” Price said, falling in step next to you as you walked over to the birds. 

You hummed acknowledgement before you grabbed the first bird by the feet, dragging it over to Bessie. “Might be a nest around here,” you said, glancing at Gaz. “Mind taking a look?”

Gaz was off with a nod, even as Soap and Ghost walked over to help. 

“We’ll take these two back,” you said, attaching the second bird to Bessie’s harness. “The other three we can butcher here.” You shook out the oiled cloth you’d brought with specifically to wrap the meat in, laying it on the sand. 

Fortunately, none of them were squeamish. Unfortunately, you only had two knives. 

It still took relatively little time for you and Price to get the meat done and wrapped up. 

"Found a few eggs," Gaz reported, carefully holding the eggs against his stomach. Three of them. Your mouth watered at the sight. 

"Brilliant." You grinned. "Alright, this has worked out quite nicely for us! I can show you some berry patches on the way back." 

None of them objected, so you got everything situated in Bessie's bags and started the walk back. 

You'd made it most of the way when you heard the little growl. You stopped, hand going to your pistol, and you noted Price doing the same near you. 

But the creature that stepped out of the brush was no threat. The hyaenadon growled softly again, gaze focused on you. 

"Easy," you soothed, both it and the men. "Easy does it." You released your pistol, taking two steps back to Bessie and cutting off a chunk of meat. 

"What are ye doin'?" Soap hissed, confused and a little incredulous. 

"No need to panic," you soothed, stepping forward again, still moving slow. You stepped ahead of Price and crouched down. "Here, sweetheart. Here you go." You held out the meat, heart racing. 

The hyaenadon crept closer, slow, cautious, a little skittish. It sniffed the meat and then, very delicately, took it from your hand. Its stubby tail wagged and it whined a little, chowing down. 

"What is this?" Price asked this time.

"I have been working on taming this darling for weeks," you said, keeping your tone low and gentle. "I think this one is almost ready to come home." 

"Ye can't be serious." Soap again, this time aghast. 

"Of course I am." You smiled as the hyaenadon licked your hand. "Good job," you murmured. "That's a good pup. How about I bring you more tomorrow, hm?" 

The hyaenadon whined again and scampered off back into the woods. You straightened with a satisfied smile. 

"What was that?" Ghost finally, voice a low growl. 

"Home first," you insisted. "Then I'll explain."

[megacarapa]

blabbing for 5 hours about this chilchuck i printed

the reason i printed him was this

as important as chilchuck's message here is that's not actually what i wanna rant about i just wanted to share random thoughts i had in the process of making this

naturally the first thing i noticed here was the different spelling of marcille's name marking this as an early fan translation, so i thought if im doing this i might as well go out and get a version with the proper spelling

the other version i found actually doesn't mention marcille's name at all which could maybe work better, but something about the phrasing of it made me want to use the first version after all

i like the clarity of the line "if you keep pretending you're fine". "bluffing" works too but bluffing is a word that can be used in many other contexts, you can bluff about pretty much anything, but when you read "pretending that you're fine" you immediately know what he's talking about

i also like the italics on the word more which immediately tells you that this is his response to marcille saying some bullshit like "i don't want to be a burden"

and the last thing i really like is the kinda brutality of the phrase "when your body gives out and you collapse" as opposed to the simple "when you get hurt" like he's REALLY laying it on thick and telling her exactly what's gonna happen if she keeps being stupid, like yes you are a burden but don't sell yourself short you can be even worse than this if you don't take care of yourself /SLAPPED

in the end it's not like i even know which one of these translations is closer to what he actually says in japanese, but i just felt that the way i went to look for a ""better"" translation and then immediately didn't like the one i found was interesting so i wanted to try and break it down for myself

anyway as for the printing, obviously when i printed him out he only took up a tiny bit of space on the otherwise blank paper, but i cut out a few more pieces of the same size and glued them all together with chilchuck at the top to reinforce him so it's not just a wimpy paper that can be easily crushed in lucy's wallet

as for the rest of the paper i just used that as a base to do all that gluing on and i'm glad i was able to use up the entire paper like that in the end instead of the alternative of just throwing the rest away

recently i was at a workshop where we were using a lot of paint, as we were getting closer to finishing our project i asked the guy leading the group what we would do with all the leftover paint when we were done, would we just draw something random on the side to use up the leftovers? that's what i usually do

then there was like these 2 seconds where nobody was saying anything and then another girl who was there made the comment "wow peter that's a very environmentally conscious thing to say" SHE LITERALLY SAID IT LIKE THAAATTTTT. IS IT WEIRD?! I THOUGHT IT WAS A NORMAL THING TO THINK ABOUT? anyway my question got just kinda shrugged off and in the end i don't know what they did with the leftovers bc i had a headache so with everyone's agreement i left when we finished the project rather than sticking around to help clean up

anyway back to chilchuck, i stuck him under my 3 homestuck volumes to press for a while, then i covered him with tape like he's a fucking high school cheat sheet just to secure him a bit more and thats it yayyy

i feel like maybe i should’ve glued some more layers on and actually now that i think about it we do also have proper photo paper that i could’ve printed on but wtw it's done now and if he dies at any point then i can just have fun printing him out again

i also like this because chilchuck looks like me so it feels like i printed out myself saying this to lucy, hm maybe i should've made it like this instead

[docholligay]

Shamash answers: Writing Day nominations

Shamash question: What was your favorite line of mine from any fic, post, ask answer, etc, this year? And why!

I could have sworn I posted this but I can't find it! I can even find the points I awarded! Did I just write a draft and forget it or what?

Only five answers, which, on the one hand, ouch, on the other hand, congrats! Everyone who answered got three points. You all place first!

"She was a red pen made flesh, and it was an unstoppable flaw, that she could not simply be kind. There always had to be a post-script to any kind word." I love this line for so many reasons. The imagery is great and it does such a good job describing a character. But the more I've thought about it, I also like it for how much it also describes Minako, but in a completely opposite way. Both can't stop themselves from adding extra into the thing being said. But Fareeha adds to it at the end of her thought, a "but" disguised as a post-script, that changes the entire feel of what she's just stated. Minako, meanwhile, scatters her extra thoughts throughout the things she said, footnotes to her words, asides that are kept secret between her and her audience. The meaning, the extra, the technically not needed, is there whether they want it to be or not. And I keep thinking about how Fareeha's current situation, where she's trying to keep herself from writing that post-script, is a direct result of Minako losing her ability to keep her true thoughts in the footnotes, the asides suddenly heard by the entire rest of the cast.

@madegeeky CYOA has been very scattered in terms of quality, but I may end up poaching that line for something else because I have never written anything about Fareeha that I thought was so correct. I get what you're saying about Mina but I think more of hers being a regular ol pen, like you said--everything is an additon, whereas everything with Fareeha is a CORRECTION. And is the fact that she is just as critical of herself a saving grace or not? I don't know!

You know I love your writing. Your descriptions and imagery are fantastic. I mean. "The flat darkness was turning to one she could feel, plush, soft, like one of Michiru’s winter dresses, or the pillows on the couch at the country club. Something so thick it could suffocate you in its luxury." Come ON who describes darkness that way? (More people should because it is evocative and legitimately sensory.) But I am a slut for my blorbos and so: "but it was another thing to know that Angela had known Fareeha was the one when she, with military precision, had cupped a moth flying inside, and simply released it out an open window." MY HEART

@seolh I KNEW YOU WOULD LOVE THAT STORY THE SECOND I THOUGHT OF IT

"Ah see, so your little game of condescension was unnecessary after all . When you put it all your effort, still, you could not prevail. So perhaps we shall find ourselves learning something about our own arrogance, hm?"

@euribear God Michiru is the worst I love her so much

From the May Choose Your Own Adventure: “ People didn’t take the power of belief seriously enough. If you could get people to believe something, anything could happen. You marched armies based on the power of belief, people died and killed for it. People love to believe, all you need to know is what they need to believe in.” I think it’s very nicely phrased, it’s great character stuff for Mina, and it’s a good opener for the connecting idea between the POV switches in the chapter. On a less serious side I keep coming back and laughing to the FMA post when they first meet Tucker and hear his chimera died: "It turned out God could not suffer such a thing to live! Anyway, I've got some analogy study guides you'll want to work on for the exam"

@automatuck9 I am feeling slightly bitter on the question of FMA right now, but man was that whole arc so much more fun than we're having now ahah.

I'm still catching up on being away from the blogs I like so I don't have much! So nothing poignant but I love the idea you swung of Mustang and Hawkeye getting a call to confirm Ed's identity and denying it for the lulz. Absolutely, amazingly in-character for all you've seen them for maybe 30 minutes.

@katrani Roy and Hawkeye are EASILY my favorite part of the whole show. I love them. I vibe.

[ferronite]

hiii! How are you?

Take advantage of this ask of and tell something interesting about your 3 Sinners!

Also. Can you describe how you imagine their base ego appearance + scenario?

hi :) not too bad, thanks~

tis fun fact time! They'll be more lighthearted ones for now:)

-Mint will (unintentionally) piss off pretty much any other smoker he encounters if they ask him for a cigarette; he carries a pack of like. Fancy ones with him (can't provide examples as I uh. Don't smoke). But since he only actually smokes cheap ones those are what he gives people. Also! He worked as a Fixer for the 5 years between the Incident and being picked up by limbus.

-Amaryn is actually surprisingly good at reading people's emotions! ...partially cuz of their upgrades lol. He just chooses to ignore it most of the time (with one specific exception~) (I really do need to talk about whatever he and mint have going on at some point). Also the blindfold that he wears is one-way: he can see through it just fine.

-Susan... well, they had a much "wilder" youth than most people expect :). Also, they were told as a kid that it's "unbecoming" for a woman to fight - so they just stopped being a woman! Problem solved! (Directly based on part of the book. I love looking back on it now and going "...what")(the women fighting part. Not the non-binary part. Tragically.)

Anyway, the egos... well, im gonna be drawing the rooms at some point, and I uh. Don't know how to phrase the scenarios, but...

"My past mistakes... I can never be freed."

Mint's got a pretty dark room - looks somewhat like a dilapidated classroom. He's slouched over the desk, with crows perched on various things staring down at him and several flying past the window. There's a weird humanoid shadow or two in the corners. Outfit looks like the one from his teaching days, but the coat has the typical base ego... whatever going on. Haven't figured out the actual scenario, but the attack itself is a pretty basic hammer thing.

"You think I'd listen to you?"

Amaryn... hm. The room's mostly white - like a lab. Various mechanical parts scattered around, some blood smears on the walls probably. There's a cracked but functional screen behind the bars, and they're just like. Sat in the middle, probably. Debris and broken chains lying on the floor at his feet, but the wires in the foreground make his shadow appear to have strings attached. Outfit... he's got a torn lab coat over something or other, with the jacket underneath having the base ego pattern thing. Attack consists of him dragging the enemy forwards with the whip and then stabbing them.

"That wonderous place... did it ever truly exist?"

-Susan's the one I've given the least thought to out of these 3, really. Their room looks, honestly, just like a standard bedroom - though there's books everywhere, an ornate wardrobe to one side (kinda has to be), and a glowing star shining through the window, and three distant silhouettes. Their outfit is pretty different from their standard one - they're wearing something resembling ceremonial robes. Attack involves them actually using their bow and arrow as intended for once - first hit is them shooting the target, second is them pulling the arrow out again.

[velocitross]

Fic Writer Questions

This was fun to do, thanks for the tag @graysparrowao3! If anyone who hasn’t gotten a tag sees this and wants to hop in, consider this an invitation 😌

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

53

2) What's your total AO3 word count?

540,238

3) What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. Working Steel - my first thunderforge fic and by far my most popular (evidently LMAO)

2. Killing Heat - Captain Rex/gn!reader longfic, my golden child fic and baby

3. Seed of Oak - I’m actually kind of embarrassed my Halsin smut one shot is on here, so little time and thought went into it 😭

4. Infernal Arcana - aww yay! my thunderforge multi chapter fic establishing my hc for how they get together

5. Needful Evenings - Dammon/gn!Tav, part of my little series with these two

4) What fandoms do you write for?

Right now for bg3, in the past (and maybe again) for Star Wars TCW and TBB, very far in the past for Dragon Age 2 and Inquisition

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yeah! I like responding to comments. I feel like I come off pretty awkward a lot of the time but hopefully I get my appreciation across. Every comment I receive makes me so happy!

(Me? Long winded? Anyway 6-20 are below the cut)

6) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm I don’t tend to write angsty endings so I’m not sure. I guess maybe With Honor, just based on it being a post-Order 66 clone fic without a clear resolution

7) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Honestly maybe Yadrinovo’s Rings? I mean the last word in that fic is “laughing”

8) Do you get hate on fics?

No, oh god. Please don’t. I will cry

9) Do you write smut?

Hell YEAH brother! Actually Killing Heat was my very first time writing smut and it’s funny to notice how second nature it’s become vs how awkward I felt back then

10) Do you write crossovers?

Not really. One thing I think about semi frequently is how Varric would get along with my other faves and what G’kar (Babylon 5) and Rex’s dynamic would be like. I think they would have a very interesting conversation re: being a soldier and what there is beyond The Fight

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, at least!

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also not that I know of

13) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

I haven’t!

14) What's your all-time favorite ship?

Hmm, I have to say Rolan x Dammon! I remember when I started seeing art of them around and talking to a friend about how I wasn’t really sure about the ship or if I could see it, but they’re my two bg3 faves so if I could think of how they’d get together, that might change. And as soon as I started thinking about it the first skeleton of Infernal Arcana came together, and I was sold. I think they have a very interesting chemistry based not only on their temperaments (Rolan being more hot-headed and bossy, Dammon being more easygoing and patient), but around the sometimes slightly darker ambition we see in both of them in game.

ANYWAY… it’s been a lot of fun writing for a smaller ship that nonetheless has a following, and I’m really grateful to be a part of their community 😌♥️

16) What are your writing strengths?

Hm I got a couple of comments last week saying I’m good at setting up a scene! I like to think I’m good with characterization as well, and writing stories with complex emotional hearts

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

Overwriting, repetition (within and between pieces), I struggle a lot sometimes with varying settings and tend to revert to places I’ve written a lot already and bore myself. I tend to reach for the same words and phrases and it makes me worry all my fics sound the same. I also probably think I’m better at self editing than I actually am haha

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

Mm, nah. I wouldn’t do it myself unless I were fluent, and I’m not fluent in any other languages

19) First fandom you wrote for?

Dragon Age!

20) Favorite fic you've ever written?

I have to say Killing Heat. That fic was an EXPERIENCE. it took me six or so months to plan, draft, and edit, and building a whole world and society for a Star Wars fic was so much fun. It was my first time writing smut and everything about it just felt so fresh and inspiring. And then posting the first chapter going “nobody is going to read this” and watching the engagement grow week by week, getting so many incredible comments… I don’t think I’ve had as much fun writing and posting a fic since

[ratwavekayla]

"One for Luck"

Eris’ knuckles knock on the door a few times, starting as a simple repetition before they turn the knocking into a jaunty tune. Gale opens the door, hair still wet and towel draped over her shoulders. “Am I…early?” Eris asks, in disbelief. “Ha, no. I just gambled on you being late. Still you’re the first to arrive.” “How did I beat KC here? They live here.” “They’re doing a snack run on their way home from work.” Gale offers an explanation and leads Eris inside. Gale and KC’s flat is cramped, but distinctly decorated. Gale’s sketches decorate the walls, along with a whiteboard she got while studying. KC has an assortment of tour posters covering their room. “Soooo…” Eris drags out the phrase, hoping Gale will pick it up for them. “So?” Gale leaves a space, refusing to offer Eris a graceful escape from awkward. “So, about tonight.” “Yes?” “Errrr-” “You don’t know what we’re doing or why, do you?” Gale puts Eris out of their misery, with only slight smugness. Eris lets out a sigh of release as they crash on Gale and KC’s sofa. “I know it’s for Ginger.” Eris shrugs and offers a bashful smile. “And I knew I was on board whatever so I kinda spaced on the explanation.” Gale begins making some tea and rolls her eyes and her guest. “She has a job interview tomorrow.” Gale finally explains. “Oh, we cursing the opposition?” “No, Christ, don’t be absurd.” “I didn’t say I wanted to, I asked if that’s what we were doing, chill out!” “Luck! She wants some luck.” “Oh.” Eris replies, sounded lightly deflated. “Dissapointed?” “No, I just figured, I dunno, a knowledge enchantment or something?” “She doesn’t want to feel like she’s cheating, c’mon, it’s Ginger. And wishing her luck, even if it’s a very powerful wish, isn’t cheating.” Gale hands a cup of tea to Eris, who immediately takes a sip and let’s out a yelp at their burnt tongue. Gale sighs, having expected this if she thinks about it for a second. “You, uh, sure you should be in on this? We could it with three.” Gale broaches a subject she’d been dancing around. “I’m not as foolish as I look.” “I don’t think you’re a fool.” “Oh, you absolutely do, but you’re trying not to care about that so it’s fine.” “That’s not what I meant.” Gale sounds sterner now. “Well, what did you mean?” Eris asks, some nervousness creeping into their voice. “Ginger. You’re…” Gale pauses, uncomfortable having to broach this. “Your unconfessed crush on her.” “It’s not…like that. Not exactly.” “Hm. Think what you want, but you’re gonna be holding back. Sure that’s a good move?” “Luck’s simple, and I… I just wanna help. Because I care about her and she asked me for help and take that smug look off your face or I’ll knock it off.” “Never.” Gale smiles, an earnest smile. The two friends laugh, then rest in comfortable silence. Eris takes another sip of tea, still too hot.

This little in-fiction extract is the opening to Ritual Magic for Besties. It's a GMless, tarot-based game where you play an interconnected group of spellcasters who explore their shared history and use that for magical power. It's a slice of life game in an urban fantasy setting. (In a press email recently I did write the words "like Charmed crossed with The L Word" and I probably should be a little shot for that)

For Zine Month 24 it's going to be on Crowdfundr to fund a full print run in a scrapbook design style with art by the amazing @molomoot.

[acheronist]

hey! i saw your post about “he was a marine by the cut of his big” and the first thing i thought is i know he wrote in inverse and obviously it would be confusing and you’d probably forget or skip words from time to time, i think he likely meant to write “the cut of his gib” as in “he was a marine based on his overall appearance/way he looked” :)

ohhh omg i hadn’t read it that way at all but that’s so interesting!!! HENRY!!!! 'the cut of his gib' does make a lot of sense like i just had a very crazy moment of second-guessing myself LMAO but nearly all of this & the next facing page were written in the backwards code system he made up, excluding like… 7~10 words for both pages? and big/gib is the last word on the page + it's kind of hard to tell if there is a period to end the phrase or if what i Think could be a period is actually just a spot of damage along the crease of the paper.... so i can't tell if that's the whole sentence or not....... it just feels kind of unlikely to me that he’d suddenly drop the pattern in that exact spot???? no source very little evidence it’s just how i feel 🧐💌🤷🏻‍♀️⁉️ also i don't think after four lines of getting the backwards script done at 100% he's gonna randomly give up and phone it in on the last word of the page lmfao

fwiw also, russell a. potter’s transcription (where he’s cited that he didn’t have much to improve upon re: a.g.e jones & richard cyriax transcriptions of the pages either) also reads this portion as “wos a marine By the cut of his big” so that also makes me feel a bit more certain !?

but 'cut of his gib' definitely does make more sense as like... a normal phrase he'd genuinely say as opposed to like... y'know, the higher up officers writing in with a very proper queen's english type of language. like oh well yes of course he'd be using the language that a working class sailor would use!!! but also he was 🤏🏻juuuuuust Probably Dyslexic enough with his spelling that now i'm also wondering if he might have gotten a j/g noise mixed up in the 'cut of his jib' slang. hm. also i was just wondering if this phrase was even popular around the 1840s (it was) BUT I JUST REALIZED IT COMES FROM A SAILING TERM ORIGINALLY!!!! that's crazy i had no idea.... okay so anyways that also definitely lends credit towards "the cut of his jib" being in his vernacular

oh something else i'm thinking about now is like... a lot of his Full Pages are organized on a slight slant? like he had the paper angled a bit While he wrote, but also he started squeezing the words in together as he neared the end of the pages.... so that might have something to do with if it's a full sentence or not.... running out of literal space on the paper mid-sentence..... the arrangement of letters is obviously important to him in other places (the spirals etc) so that might be something..... i dunnooooo….

MUCH TO CONSIDER! i fear we may have to bust out the ouija board and get henry to explain himself & read his shitty handwriting for us

[cowardly-cowboy]

So here's a little bit of the first page or so of the book I'm writing =D

𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑂𝑛𝑒

𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒆; 𝑶𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒉

I'm a bit of a shitty person; I admit that. So I suppose I deserve all that's happened to me recently. That doesn't necessarily mean I won't complain about life in general, however.

I don't think that's quite appropriate at the moment, though. I'll save the sarcasm for later.

I never thought I'd end up back here; I never thought it would end here, right back where it started. I mean, this circus was my home. The Illusionists took me in at, what, nine? Something around that age. The performance tent had been so lively then; shit, it was pretty damn lively a month ago. Now? It was sad. Depresing; pathetic. I suppose she and I match quite a bit, then.

My shoulders tense, I lifted the heavy tent flap of once bright shades of purple, and passed my gaze over what remained of my childhood. The bleachers were long abandoned, charred and blackened and collapsed in some areas. The sand that covered the floor was of a similar pattern. In the center of the horeshoo of seating stood two wooden towers; each about twenty feet up, with the top of the tent fifteen feet above that. In between the two, there hung the wooden bars me and Astrix had swung on all our lives. The right tower, the one I would usually perch on, had nearly collapsed; the crows nest where we would stand and jump from was cracked and burned. The left tower, Astrix's usual show placement, was in much better conditions, only the base being of a more extreme blackness than the rest.

I exhaled a long breath I didn't know I had been holding; it puffed out into a cloud of cold. I supposed it must have been quite freezing inside. It was Autumn, of course, but me and Bilzerian's presence must have lowered the temperature by a few tens of degrees. My wings fluttered softly at my back.

Speak of the devil; "Why are we back here?" He demanded, appearing with a gust of cold at my side that made even I shiver.

"I'm ending this." I strode a bit faster towards the center, my voice barely a fracture in an icy lake. The once soft sand pricking against my bare feet, I knew where Astrix would set her trap. I knew where I had to go.

Blitz almost laughed; "Really? Oh, I'd like to see you try!" He grinned an icy grin at me, the ends of his mane of blue hair glistening with frost. That laugh snapped needles into my lungs every time it sounded. I continued on; he could feel how I felt and I knew how he felt in turn; he was aware of the fact that his mere presence made me want to shit myself like a toddler, and I knew he was thoroughly pissed at me while simultaneously being amused and giddy to see me frightened. That just made me more frightened.

"I won't be trying, actually. That's the point." I muttered, my teeth softly grinding. I sensed a remanence of Astrix and Styvies power; that of a Goddess and a Nymph, right in between the towers. I took a quick breath, looking down at my frosted arms.

"Think about this carefully, Cheshire." Blitzerain mused.

"Shut up." I snapped back; a phrase that was second nature to him and I. That didn't stop the ends of the strings of my mind to strain as I said it. I took another step forward and held my breath; yet nothing happened.

Blitz smiled, "I suppose you were wrong, hm?" I felt him attempting control; that icy cage tightening around my chest. I refused; he would have to try harder than that, yes. I would be in control, for once.

I drew in a breath and jolted my left arm; a tendril of cold shimmered up to my shoulder, my forearm and down narrowing and freezing into an icicle in a split second. Vague runes flickered faintly under the sand. My frosted feathers puffed out, a slight snowfall of frustration.

Blitz sighed, coating his tone in a sweet, popsicle glaze, "Cheshire, don't do this. It's really just more trouble; a waste of time. You know it's-"

"You're a waste of time, you know that? All of this was a waste." I bit back, cutting him off. I wasn't in the headspace for any sarcastic, snarky comments, so that was all I had at the moment. I promise you I can do better. Another pulse of fast cold enclosed my chest; sharp flutters of my heart had to be steadied to stop it. I couldn't let him happen yet; my anxiety had other plans, but I insisted on keeping those as plan Bs and beyond.

My icicle arm snapped itself in three, now earning me a claw of ice. I stomped on the rune circle's center again, and was slammed abruptly in the gut by a swinging log.

The wind was knocked out of me; I silently wished the wind god would also be slammed aside, but alas, I had no such luck. I tumbled across the sandy floor, only coming to a stop when purple chains burst from the runes and shackled me, then dragging me all the way back to their origins. This was the day I discovered what burnt sand tastes like (more pleasant than one would imagine, in my humble opinion). I felt my chest completely freeze over; I didn't fight this time. I was thrusted from my own vessel, now hovering above my body in Bilzerian's place. He screamed bloody murder, thrashing in the bonds and cursing in the language of the gods. He flapped our wings, lifting off the ground for only a moment before another set of bindings shackled them, slamming him back on the ground. Ice jutted from the floor and merged with the chains, but it was no use. The ice magic only fused with that of the chains, securing us further to where we sat.

Blitz thrashed and shouted some more, I don't know for how long; I had learned to tune him out when I wasn't the one dragging him around against my will, if I even had a will at this point.

Eventually he tired both himself and my body out; we swapped places once more, and I was greeted by aching muscles and joints, marks of bruising likely to show its face in the next day or so where the chains met my skin. My throat felt like shards of glass had traced insults down its back. Blitz blew to the edges of his range, about ten feet from me, and sat down midair to mope about life. I wanted to do quite the same from where I was. He reeked of rage; I knew I would have to brace myself for when that avalanche tumbled my way.

Now, all I had to do was wait. I took that time to look around some more, as the chains had tightened during Blitz's fit, and I could barely move, let alone stand. The log that had struck me from the West had crashed on the East side of the tent, slamming into a storage area and closet; the entrance was at the South end, the horseshoe of bleachers leaving an opening to face it. The log would have crashed into some of those bleachers if they were still standing. What a way to spend my eighteenth birthday, the back of my mind muttered, the tracks beneath my flighting and derailing trains of thought.

༄༄༄

[ejzah]

A/N: Once again, thanks to everyone who has supported this little story and Deeks in firefighter gear.

***

The Agent and the Fireman, Part 9

After grabbing a few hours of sleep at home, everyone returned to OSP to debrief and attempt to track down the man who attacked Deeks. LAPD had put out an APB, but that hadn’t brought any leads so far.

“Ok, so the description we’re working with is a male around 5’10 with brown hair and dark clothes?” Eric confirmed, spinning around from his work center with one eyebrow arched.

“Yeah. Is that going to be a problem?” Callen asked.

“Of course not.” Eric tone suggested insult. “But it’s probably gonna take some time unless he was foolish enough to use a vehicle with a license plate.”

“Based on what we know so far, I’m guessing he didn’t,” Sam said.

Nodding, Eric started pulling up security cams in the area of the latest fire site. Beside him, Nell was reviewing all the evidence they’d gathered up to this point.

“Hey, Kensi.”

She didn’t answer, discreetly pecking out a text. Deeks’ last response had come around 4 in the morning with a quick update that he’d gotten home and was planning to sleep off a massive headache.

“Kens,” Callen repeated, smirking when she jumped and tucked her phone into her pocket.

“What?”

“Did Lieutenant Deeks tell you anything else after we left?” Callen asked, and Kensi rolled her eyes the emphasis he put on Deeks’ title.

“No. He didn’t,” Kensi answered, speaking with clipped phrasing. “Um, but he was pretty banged up last night, so he might remember something else today. I could go talk to him…” She trailed off, as though it was a mere helpful suggestion.

“Hm, what do you think, Sam? Should we let Kensi go visit her boy toy on company time?”

“Mm, I think we should let her suffer a little more. Builds character,” Sam replied with a teasing wink.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Kensi maintained, ignoring the buzz in her pocket that she was certain signified a new text from Deeks.

“Oh give her a break,” Nell spoke up and Kensi nodded in thanks. “Her man was hurt, she’s probably worried about him.” Nell let Kensi’s glare roll right off her back, smiling broadly before she turned back to her screen.

“That’s right. Deeks never got his boo-boos kissed,” Sam agreed.

“Ok, I think I caught our guy on a camera from a nearby gas station,” Eric—blessedly—interrupted, displaying a dark capture of a figure much as Deeks described, clothed in dark clothes. He played a 10 second clip, which showed the man darting across the street, through the parking lot, and off camera.

“This clearly isn’t the first time he’s done this,” Kensi commented. “He kept his face out of view the entire time.”

“He didn’t count on running into Deeks.”

“And when he did, it made him a little sloppy,” Sam said. “Good work, Eric. Keep checking surrounding cameras.”

“Will do.”

“And Nell, focus on men who meet the general description we have and also have a connection any of the arson sites.”

“That is going to be a very long list,” Nell warned them.

“Well, while we’re waiting on that, we’ll go down to the latest site and see if anyone in the surrounding area saw our lurker,” Callen decided.

***

In between questioning possible witnesses, Kensi checked in with Deeks. Apparently he’d been cleared to come back to work, but was restricted to the station for the next two days.

That was something of a relief. He’d had two close calls within hours of each other, and Kensi didn’t think her nerves could handle another one so soon.

She spoke to the one owners of three nearby businesses, two of whom hadn’t been open at the time of the incident and didn’t have security cameras. The third did have some footage saved, which Kensi quickly reviewed before getting a copy to send to Eric and Nell.

As she was exiting the third business, a young man in a black t-shirt and turnout pants approached her, jogging the last few yards.

“Are you Agent Blye?” he asked, certain he wasn’t one of the firefighters she’d met before.

“Yes,” Kensi answered hesitantly.

“Oh good. I’m FFT Jimenez. Lieutenant gave a very good description of you.”

Kensi didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or pleased by this information, and ultimately settled on vague curiosity.

“And is there a reason why you’re looking for me?” He nodded enthusiastically at her question.

“Yes! One of our investigators found something of interest. They’d like you and the other agents to come take a look at your convenience,” Jimenez informed her.

“Ok, let me contact my partners and we’ll be right over.”

Callen and Sam had taken the Challenger so they were probably father from the site than she was. She sent a quick text, then headed back over.

This time, no one objected or tried to redirect her when she flashed her badge and ducked under the lines of caution tape surrounding the large destruction zone. Various investigators, arson specialists, and officers collecting and bagging evidence.

She followed a marked off path, peering above the crowd until she saw Deeks standing near a hastily erected tent. His figure was unmistakable to her now. For once, he didn’t wear any part of his typical gear, instead clothed in a black uniform complete with a badge and insignia on his shoulder.

As she walked toward him, another officer passed him a clear evidence bag, which Deeks scanned thoroughly, logging it on a clipboard while the officer watched.

Kensi felt her chest swell with pride at his confidence and skill. He was sure of himself without being cocky or obnoxious, which was evident in the way the people around him looked up to him.

She’d never felt so strongly about anyone before, especially so quickly. Maybe she should be concerned about rushing in, but no one had made her smile so much in a long time. Plus, he was undeniably hot.

“Hey, I thought you were supposed to be taking it easy,” Kensi said from behind him, the warmth of her recent thoughts filtered into her voice. Turning to look over his shoulder, Deeks met her with a welcoming grin.

“Hey! I see Jimenez found you. And don’t worry, I’m solely supervising right now.” He rolled his eyes at that. “Captain Palmy has threatened to put me on cleaning duty for a month if I even think of doing anything more physical than walking.”

“Good. I approve.” Leaning closer, Kensi took his chin between her thumb and forefinger, turning his face to the side. “Here let me see.”

He now had a butterfly bandage on both temples, each gash bordered by purple and black bruising. The skin around it looked swollen and inflamed.

“Mmm,” Kensi murmured sympathetically. “That looks painful.”

“Extremely painful,” Deeks agreed playfully.

“How’s your arm?”

“8 stitches, only superficial damage, no physical restrictions,” he reported dutifully. His voice dropped a little lower. “I’d show you, but the LA Fire Department frowns upon stripping while on the job.”

“Shut up,” Kensi gasped, flushing despite herself.

She absolutely did not have an instantaneous image of Marty Deeks slowly removing his uniform piece by piece to music. She shoved his uninjured arm, hand lingering longer than she intended, which Deeks noted with a smirk.

“Ok, so what’s so important you had to call us away from canvassing?” she asked.

“One of the arson investigators found a gold lighter with an inscription on it around the spot where I tussled with the suspect. I’m betting that just might be why he came back,” Deeks replied.

***

A/N: I hope you all are still enjoying this. I’m sprinkling in the tiniest bits of procedural stuff so we can keep having Firefighter Deeks.

[ddarker-dreams]

Eula x Reader. Word count: 600. 

This is for an event hosted by @anantaru & @bluexiao​ 💖💖

Interacting with Eula Lawrence could be compared to crossing a frozen over lake. 

There’s a thrill in the risk — wondering if the next step you take will be your last. Will the ice hold up? Shall it crack and send you into a frigid abyss? Navigation requires skill, patience, and a little luck. Even then, success is never guaranteed. There is a key difference between the two, you’d argue. That is that success needn’t always be the goal. 

“Don’t push my buttons,” the way she huffs it is gentle, rather than a roaring winter gale. Still, you’d be wise to not think you won’t bend from its weight. 

Well... there’s being wise and then there’s being you. 

“Aren’t buttons meant to be pushed?” You retaliate, a cheeky little smile worming its way onto your face. That should be pretty good! Charming, if you dare say so yourself. That line has got to have a solid 80% success rate. 

She visibly grimaces and your confidence plummets. Not permanently, mind you, it’s more of a temporary thing while you regain your bearings. It’s like how people get sick and then feel better afterward. The uncalm before the storm, or however that phrase goes. 

“Had I not given my word to correct your... unsightly dancing, I’ll have you know that I would’ve left thirty minutes ago.” 

She’s huffing again! Seriously, who does that? She could at the very least click her tongue or roll her eyes. But no, you’re stuck with the oh so degrading hms and hmphs. You’re about to lament this treatment when she pulls you closer, one hand settling on your lower back, while the other intertwines your formally unoccupied hand. 

“Well, praise be to you for your charity, but I don’t think it’s that bad,” you endure further poking and prodding while she adjusts your ‘awful’ posture. How she never runs out of negative adjectives, you’ll never know. Your current hypothesis is that she studies them in the dictionary every night before she goes to bed. “I’ve done some waltzes in my time. At events for the Knights, anyway. They call me the Phantom of The Dance Floor.” 

Following this bold declaration that’d rival a town crier, you step on her foot. For the tenth time. Or twentieth. Honestly, you lost count. 

“This is unbelievable, a travesty, a nightmare...!“ 

(See what you mean about the whole negative adjective thing?) 

“Woah, slow down, you’ll make me cry,” you plead. Surprisingly, she does put an end to her slew of insults upon hearing this. Heh, heh. What a softie. Frustration apparently mounting to a point she can no longer withstand, she releases you, stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest. Then glaring at you. And huffing again. The whole ensemble. 

“From this day forward, we meet here daily. No excuses. First when the sun rises, next when it sets. I will enact vengeance of the most prolific kind should you be a second late!“ 

And like that, she pivots on her heel, not exactly stomping off but lacking her usual refined gait. You run after her to ask for clarification on gauging the time based off the sun’s position in the sky. 

Elsewhere, a curious Venti happens upon Kaeya, who’s been observing the scene since it began to unfold. 

“Why’s the Phantom of The Dance Floor taking lessons?” Venti queries. 

Kaeya hums, amusement gleaming in his eye. “I think [First] might have an ulterior motive or two.” 

“Ohhh. You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? Ehe.” 

“Hm?” 

“Huh?” 

All in all, it’s just another typical day in Mondstadt. 

[miraculouscontent]

“Sentibubbler” summary? “Sentibubbler” salt?

Why not both at the same time?

Something a little experimental, though also somewhat reminiscent of some of my past videos. Calling it “summasalt” for now, based on the word “somersault” because this episode was an exercise of my patience.

It’s basically just me going through the episode with my usual episode summary, but salting along the way instead of making you guys read a wall of text without any images or clips or me making snarky comments.

(By the way, yes, I did in fact have caffeine before recording.)

script below for anyone who wants/needs it:

"Sentibubbler" begins with Marinette having food with the Cesaires and I already know this isn't real because Marinette is actually getting to interact with her best friend's family. That's only happened, like--when, two episodes of Season 2? [”Sapotis” and “Anansi”]

Marinette sees Trixx and points out how they're supposed to be a secret, and Alya asks why while calling Marinette "Ladybug." Marinette plays dumb but is told by Nino that everyone already knows her secret. Chloe is also there, chiding Marinette for her identity rule - it's not Marinette's rule but after "Reflekdoll" I've just gotten used to Marinette being blamed for things she didn't do - and Marinette goes to question Chloe's apperance when there's a knock on the balcony door. Alya invites Shadow Moth in and--[Shadow Moth has to duck to come inside]--huh, I thought Sole Crusher was seven episodes ago.

Anyway, now obviously, Marinette is just being ridiculous and overemotional as usual, because why would Marinette ever think that Alya would reveal any information to--["Feast"]--oh yeah, that's right.

Tikki doesn't transform Marinette and says that Marinette shouldn't have trusted Alya with her secret. Enter Chat Blanc, who says that they can be together now without any secrets. Not really sure what this episode is aiming for with the mixed message of "your identity rule sucks" but also "your fault for trusting someone instead of having a mental breakdown," but a’ight. Trixx also gets another dig in on Marinette for giving Alya the fox miraculous.

Marinette wakes up from her nightmare and panics, but Tikki reassures her that Alya is loyal. [”Chameleon”] Mm. Also, that kind of support might've been nice from Tikki literal seasons ago when Marinette could've used a confidant.

Wayzz - I swear, they've had eyelashes more often than not in this season - points out that Trixx is mischievous and Xuppu talks about Trixx being the cause of the Loch Ness monster rumors, which worries Marinette further. Marinette runs out in her pajamas and I can already predict that neither Tom nor Sabine are going to check on her later or care.

Marinette finds the Cesaires looking for something, their words vague enough for Marinette to think that they're talking about Trixx. Alya brushes Marinette off and tells her to help with looking instead of lecturing her.

Marlena makes a comment that reminds Marinette of her nightmare, only increasing Marinette's stress. A tarantula crawls up a ladle and Marinette freaks out when she sees it, which Marlena has a laugh at because Marinette's anxiety, fear, and panic is hilarious, guys!

This is my laughing face. [not a laughing face]

Nino exits, having been too afraid of the spider to leave the room, so Nora compares Marinette to him. Nino tries to play it cool, then changes the subject to point out Marinette's pajamas. Alya wonders aloud why Marinette showed up and Marinette tries to act casual, but Alya sees through it and states that she doesn't usually lose things when someone lends them to her.

I presume the exception is Marinette's trust. OH-HOOOOHHH, we'll get there.

Nora takes a jab at Alya for losing the spider and Marinette drags Alya away to talk. Nino tries to join but Alya states that it's between her and Marinette, which makes Nino sad.

Nino, does the phrase "guys' time" ring a bell by any chance?

Marinette is explaining her nightmare and is simply told to calm down by Alya, though Marinette is briefly startled by a phone ringing. Marinette puts together what she knows that Shadow Moth knows, including that Alya is Rena Rouge, adding on that Shadow Moth could steal the fox necklace if he figured out that Alya has it permanently. Alya reassures her that no one will ever know and Marinette states that this must include Chat Noir. Alya agrees and brings attention to the fanny pack around her waist, which Trixx has been hiding in, and Marinette has Trixx promise not to show up at the dining table like in her nightmare. Tikki tells Marinette that everything will be fine and Marinette admits that it was silly of her to worry, which it was! ...If you ignore all the anxiety, mental scarring, and constant pressure to be perfect or risk Paris lighting itself on fire, much like I presume they accidentally did with their original script for this episode.

Alya tells Marinette to trust her and also herself - I'll be sure to keep that in mind, Alya, thank you - then Alya loses her temper at the phone continuing to ring. She leaves to find an empty living room, then answers the phone only to hear Shadow Moth on the other line. Alya turns upon hearing Marinette scream to see that Marinette has been trapped in a bubble. Cue the reveal/return of the Bubbler, who is definitely Nino akumatized and not--like--a sentimonster, because the episode didn't spoil it at all with the title of Sentibub--

show, this is freaking embarrassing. Why even bother akumatizing someone when you can mold a sentimonster with the exact power you want?

At least they reveal it quickly, though that also means I have to live with the knowledge that Shadow Moth wINKED AT ALYA, NO.

Anyway, Shadow Moth tells Alya that he wants her to betray Ladybug. Marinette, meanwhile, is panicking over being unable to transform while in public, whereas Tikki remains calm and reassures her that Alya will figure something out and it's why Marinette gave Alya the fox miraculous in the first place.

Weird, I thought it was for the show to continuously validate Alya as a worthy choice for a confidant despite repeatedly covering up her sINS and so the show can push for more anxiety on Marinette's part while simultaneously not having to make a new hero model for Alya, which they would have to do if the realistic decision had been made to give Alya a different miraculous due to Shadow Moth knowing her identity as Rena Rouge.

Marinette texts Alya to inform her that the Bubbler is a sentimonster and so Rena can tell Chat not to use Cataclysm on him or the bubbles will burst due to the sentimonster's lack of control.

Hate to burst the show's bubble but Alya could literally see Nino up in the sky and they could see her; the bubbles are in viewing range. Did this even go through a quality check?

Alya goes to look at Marinette's text, but the phone is bubbled away by Sentibubbler. Marinette sees the phone floating by and panics, only to be reassured again to trust Alya and at this point I vaguely wondered if I was watching this episode on repeat. Tikki also adds that Alya has never let her down - [”Ladybug”] MMMM - and Marinette agrees, also certain that Chat Noir will show up soon.

Oh yeah, he exists. Oh no.

Cut to the Agreste mansion where Adrien is watching the news - dude, how is there never anything better on when you need to be told that there's an akuma? here, look, I'll show you [”Silencer” Lukabug clip] there, much better, see? - and it's pointed out that the bubbles are identical to the ones Bubbler had, yet Nino is in one of the bubbles. Adrien readies himself while Plagg is - for once - okay with leaving since his cheese isn't "edible" yet.

I feel like he should be a little more concerned about Marinette being in a bubble.

Meanwhile, Shadow Moth is explaining to Alya that Ladybug will come to give her the fox miraculous due to the bubbled people in the sky - plenty of other choices that aren't within breathing range of the obvious danger zone, but a'ight - and SentiBubbler will catch Ladybug. Alya brings up Chat Noir saving her but Shadow Moth states that she'll create an illusion of Ladybug and Rena to lure Chat Noir, who won't see Sentibubbler coming, at which point Rena will hand Shadow Moth her miraculous. He adds that her loved ones will only be returned once all three miraculouses are in his possession, though if she tries to warn the heroes then Sentibubbler will send the bubbles into space, too far for any hero to save them.

[clip of space power-ups] Hm.

Also, I would've just let her keep the miraculous as an extra bribe since he doesn't need the fox and she wouldn't have time to recharge anyway - at least to his knowledge - but that's just me.

Marinette is relieved that Alya still hasn't been captured--TIKKI, I KNOW, YOU'VE BEEN PARROTING THIS ALL EPISODE, I KNOW--but Marinette changes her tune when she sees Alya blindly calling out for Ladybug's help, unaware that Alya is buying time. Marinette laments the idea of transforming there and having using the rabbit to go back in time to reverse, as that's never a good thing (seconded), but gets the idea for Tikki to take her miraculous to someone else. Tikki rejects the idea, as the earrings won't go through the bubble, and Marinette realizes that Chat Noir is their only hope.

I mean, it was nice knowing them. Sure is interesting how Marinette has only been getting herself into these situations where she requires saving when the show needed to present Alya as a valid choice for a confidant.

Meanwhile, Chat Noir is leaving a message for Ladybug about the bubbles in the sky, saying that he'll wait for her; I already see where this is going and I don't like it.

Alya mutters to Trixx about how they need a plan to release Marinette. Through Alya Vision, we're shown Sentibubbler, a bowl of fruit, and the bathroom door. Alya tells Sentibubbler that she needs to go to the bathroom and - wow, we're really doing this, aren't we? - which Shadow Moth rejects. Shadow Moth is also on top of a building holding a coffee cup which honestly makes about as much sense as the rest of the episode, so whatever. Alya claims that she can't wait and that it'll be awkward for Ladybug to find her like that, which gets Shadow Moth to relent but also remind her of what's at stake if she tries anything. Alya states that she can't do anything without a miraculous anyway, then purposefully falls onto the table, concealing her long enough for her to transform and allowing an illusion of herself to go to the bathroom while she escapes. She detransforms in the twins' room and feeds Trixx with some grapes that she'd picked up.

Alya explains her plan to trick Shadow Moth and Sentibubbler since they don't know that she has a miraculous, though she also has to make sure that Chat won't ruin things. Rena then proceeds to call Chat Noir and claim that Ladybug wanted her to call him with her plan, but adds that it's a two-person plan and Chat himself isn't needed, so he needs to wait for further instructions. Chat demands that Ladybug call him to tell him herself, but Rena insists that she can't, as Ladybug is very busy. She warns him not to use Cataclysm if he sees the Bubbler, as he's a sentimonster, then promises to talk to him later before hanging up.

She uses Mirage again, making the Alya illusion reappear as well as creating a Ladybug. Chat Noir, infuriated at being left out, destroys part of a building with his baton. He then dismisses the action because Miraculous Ladybug will fix it.

Spoiler alert, it will, which is a very fascinating detail! I mean, I can't imagine another situation where a hero did something while there was an akuma going around and Miraculous Ladybug decided to help 'em out, but it just goes to show what happens when you're the writers' pet. Just look a little pitiful and they'll give you all the sympathy in the world.

By the way, didn't expect them to actually confirm my theory that Chat Noir does Chat Noir things because he knows that Miraculous Ladybug will fix it anyway, essentially allowing him to earn brownie points from Ladybug via sacrificing himself regardless of how it affects her mentally, yet here we are and I don't know whether to be sad, angry, disappointed, or a mixture of all three.

Chat Noir sees the Ladybug illusion jumping off and gives chase, refuses to stay where he is. Marinette, seeing that Rena Rouge's illusions are active, panics at the sight of Chat Noir, as the illusion will vanish if Chat touches it.

I like to imagine the immediate concern is the idea that Chat Noir will try to take Ladybug's hand while trying to flirt.

Anyway, Marinette flails inside the bubble in an attempt to reach Chat Noir, while illusion Alya and SentiBubbler get into position. Chat Noir watches what he perceives as Ladybug heading into the Cesaire house with Alya, but Marinette gets to him in order to tell him not to go anywhere. Chat complains about everyone telling him to stay put, but Marinette explains Rena's plan to him. Chat is skeptical of how she knows that, to which Marinette insists that she saw it from where she was. Chat Noir relents with a sigh and stays where he is.

SentiBubbler watches as the illusion of Alya and Ladybug talk to each other, Rena making it look like Ladybug is piecing together what happened and refusing to give Alya a miraculous ever again due to Shadow Moth knowing her identity. She claims that she'll find another holder and give them an even more powerful miraculous, which interests Shadow Moth and gets him to follow after the Ladybug illusion. Once Sentibubbler leaves as well, Chat sees this as his chance to stop the sentimonster, as the Ladybug illusion will vanish if it's touched. Marinette strokes his ego for the token love square moment of the episode, and Chat Noir fights SentiBubbler while Shadow Moth goes after the Ladybug illusion.

I'm noticing a real lack of tension in this episode. Once Alya has her plan, it's kind of a clean sweep from start to finish with no interference or unexpected roadblocks in the way. Even Shadow Moth following the Ladybug illusion goes fine, with Shadow Moth even punching a building thinking that Ladybug actually got away from him.

Dude, it's fine, Miraculous Ladybug will fix it, just put on your best sad face. Maybe Chat Noir gets it from you actually, is treatment from the writers a hereditary thing?

Sentibubbler and Chat Noir are still fighting. Shadow Moth shows up and Marinette tries to warn Chat, but Chat gets caught in a bubble and Marinette apologizes; she doesn't have anything to apologize for but after "Reflekdoll" I--wait I already did this.

Chat Noir uses Cataclysm to escape, only to get caught in another bubble. I'd just like to throw out there that this guy's a hero three seasons going and the love interest for the main character, yet his role in the episode has amounted to complaining about the authority of a hero Ladybug chose, throwing a property-destroying tantrum over being excluded, and wasting his power without a single thought which just got him captured again.

Chat, does the name "Syren" ring any bells by any chance? I'm just sayin', you could always quit. In fact, wasn't it you literally one episode ago saying that you understood if Ladybug couldn't always come get you? Then, after seeing the jump from "Glaciator" to "Frozer," I'm about as shocked as rubber.

Back with the competent one, Alya notes to Trixx that Rena Rouge can no longer be seen by Shadow Moth or else the jig is up. She transforms and texts Marinette to be ready, creating an illusion of Marinette that simultaneously hides the real version, allowing her to transform into Ladybug.

Chat Noir's bubble gets dragged down and Shadow Moth gets SentiBubbler to mute Chat Noir's bubble.

[clip from “Silencer” where Ladybug takes amusement in Chat being muted]

Ladybug uses Lucky Charm and receives a pot, her Lucky Vision spotting Shadow Moth's coffee cup, then SentiBubbler, then the tarantula trapped in a bubble. Ladybug deduces that the cup is the sentimonster's object, then pulls the horse miraculous out of her yoyo and unifies it with the ladybug--oh.

Oh my.

You know, it's times like this where I'm reminded that the show knows nothing about fashion... or girls... or good writing actually--there's just a lot of stuff they don't know.

Sentibubbler does a countdown, then starts sending the civilian bubbles up into the sky. Chat Noir is about to de-transform while PegaBug notices of Shadow Moth's two miraculous, up for grabbin'. She notes that she won't be able to catch everyone, so she forms a portal behind Shadow Moth and goes for the coffee cup first, thus putting her in control of SentiBubbler, who happily brings the bubbles back down at her command.

Shadow Moth erases SentiBubbler from existence though, causing everyone to fall, but Chat and PegaBug manage to catch them. PegaBug de-transforms and presents the Cesaires with the tarantula, which had been trapped inside the lucky charm. Ladybug and Chat Noir watch Shadow Moth escape and Ladybug laments that it could've been the end of Shadow Moth once and for all because it's not a Miraculous episode without Marinette being at fault or feeling guilty in some way! Chat Noir reassures her [*by “reassure,” I mean he might as well have said, “Well, you saved ME, so you did great!”] - wow, that's two token love square moments for the price of one episode, don't I feel spoiled - and Ladybug leaves to retrieve the tarantula's tank.

Rena Rouge is waiting for her and they hug, with Rena repeating that she doesn't lose something that someone gives her. Ladybug states that she never should've doubted the idea of giving Alya a miraculous and Imma just give you guys a counter real quick. [counter that shows that Tikki has complimented Alya four times, Alya has complimented herself/told Marinette to trust her thrice, and Marinette has said that she was wrong thrice]. Miraculous Ladybug is cast and everything returns to normal, with Alya explaining what she did and Marinette being relieved that Shadow Moth won't be going after her anymore. Alya confidently asks if she was smart and Marinette is happy to praise her, confirming it and stating that Alya is a real superhero and honestly? If the narrative wanted to marry Alya this badly, they should've just used some of the budget to buy a ring instead of projecting onto the other characters.

Then again, the apparent budget can't even afford a new hero model nor new akuma to a very noticeable degree, so I guess they're taking what they can get.

Alya praises Marinette as well for her work as PegaBug and they do a fistbump, thus ending the episode. There's also this ever-so-lovely post-episode scene with Gabriel and Nathalie where Gabriel laments the fact that Ladybug never makes mistakes which--I... has he even watched the series at all? Gabe, babe, Babriel Agreste, it's literally part of the show's formula that Marinette makes a mistake in every episode and she felt guilty like a minute ago over not yoinking your miraculouses when she had the chance, where have you been?

But, yeah, anyway, the episode.

Needless to say, not a fan. Like I said, the show seems so intent on immediately validating the choices they make with Alya in order to make her look like a better character. "Gang of Secrets" basically replaced her with someone different at the end of the episode, and the episode immediately afterwards in chronological order, "Mr. Pigeon 72," did everything it could to push Marinette out of her guardian position long enough for Alya to figure out the grimoire despite having zero onscreen experience with it, the episode even trapping Ladybug in a situation that forced Rena Rouge to come into play to validate that decision as well.

And now we have "SentiBubbler" here following immediately after "Optigami," desperate to reassure its audience that Alya is cool, smart, truthworthy, and that not needing to make a new model--sorry, I mean Alya continuing to have the fox--was a good decision. All the while, they continue pushing Alya's flaws under the rug [Note that it’s not even considered that Alya is even remotely at fault for Shadow Moth going after her specifically after her stunt in “Optigami” when no one else but Ladybug and Chat have ever given out a miraculous], hiding them instead of Alya actually acknowledging them, the only reason she did so in "Optigami" being the same as in "Gang of Secrets"; to make her look good while Marinette makes a big decision in their relationship.

The episode tries so hard to drill in this idea that Alya is a good friend who can be trusted, and I'm just not here for how much they try to hammer it in. Marinette's very real anxiety over Shadow Moth's power and ability to plan things is played off as her being silly instead of something to be concerned about, and instead of giving her a hug and trying to help her calm down - [clip from “Heart Hunter” of Luka hugging Marinette] I miss Luka - she's just told to trust and believe and hAVE fAiTh in Alya.

Shadow Moth is an adult; he has abilities that the teenage heroes don't. I'm not even saying that Marinette isn't overreacting [Basically, her concern about Shadow Moth is valid, especially after “Optigami” where her identity was almost found out], but she has anxiety and some obvious trauma over "Chat Blanc." I was already upset that Alya got a free pass to Marinette's identity, but the constant stressing over how much Marinette should trust her just doesn't affect me when I know Alya and I know the kind of stuff she's done that the show blatantly ignored in favor of pushing for her.

But okay, show, I'll give Alya the benefit of the doubt that she doesn't deserve. Let's say that she's turned a new leaf, and has become the reliable, trustworthy, and loyal partner that Marinette deserves. I'm sure that Alya has Marinette's back, and will never go behind said back in order to do something completely unsurprising and wholly indicative of the character I actually know her to be.

Especially not a mere three episodes later...

[cuppasunu]

CHAPTER THREE

synopsis: you have waited all your life to find yours, while eric loathes the thought of being destined to one. by fate, you have been matched as soulmates, will it end well?

warnings: none

pairing: eric sohn x fem. reader | all of tbz members

genre: angst

w/c: 1.7K

by fate masterlist.

fic playlist.

— kyu is listening to … i don’t wanna pt. ii by the ivy

“Follow me.” 

Eric’s hand grips your wrist tightly, he closes the door behind him and drags you to the next room—conscious of the current that prickles through the contact of your skin. The rush of adrenaline fills your mind, your heart, and his restless hand tells you he feels the same. 

With urgent steps, you make your way through the dark. Your thoughts are jumbled of all the possibilities that this situation could go. Finding your soulmate in a party after they’ve been hooking up with someone else wasn’t really part of the list you anticipated, now is it?

The luminous mark on your chests screams as loud as the music booming out of this corridor. 

Somehow it washes out the darkness that surrounded you—and for the first time in your life, you considered it as the very last thing you wanted to see.

Eric mutters under his breath, letting out a stream of quiet curses, while thankfully, buttoning up his shirt. 

You were both pacing the room. 

“Y/n, I’m- hm. Uh..”

“I know.” 

You cut him off, not being able to bear seeing him react this way. 

It’s not something to be surprised about, though. Based on your previous encounter, he might as well admit he truly is averse to his soulmate. 

Opposed to you. 

“I know you don’t .. do relationships.” 

He looked askance. Almost embarrassed, hearing it come from your mouth. 

“So.. you understand?” Eric asked, sounding like he’s asking for approval. 

“Of course, I get it.” 

You fought against that phrase till the very end. But, it was the much needed lie you had to suffer through in exchange of the million bitter truths you were dying to tell. 

“I mean it’s ridiculous to expect to be with someone just because of some mark suddenly dictating your destiny,” you bit your lip, wishing there wouldn't be enough light in the room for him to see your shaken eyes, “nor would I want that for you..”

Because if you had chosen to let go and let your mask fall, you wouldn’t be able to hold anything back.

As if the universe thought you needed more reasons to be in pain, Eric lets out a genuine sigh of relief. 

“You’re not supposed to be fine with this!” your heart wanted to shout, but your mind tells you not to, convincing you that it’s better this way. 

Instead you say, “I need to get going.”

Walking backwards, you watched as his hands tried to get a hold of you for a second. You avoided him at all costs. 

His touch was dangerous, painful even. Especially when you know it won’t ever be just for you. 

“It’s okay, it’s fine,” you shook your head, hastening your steps toward the door, “I have to go. Please.”

Respecting your plea, Eric stays frozen—left alone to see you flee out of his sight. You were gone before you had to hear his last words, not knowing if you had been better off if you did stay. 

Running back to the crowd you initially wanted to run away from, you’re thinking that nothing has ever made you feel so insignificant. 

Right at this moment, you’re aware of the mark you’ve been carrying in your entire life more than you’ve ever been before.

You’re wondering if he feels the same weight, too. 

… 

Frantically searching for your cousin, you were determined to get out of the house in no time. 

Kate is waving to a friend who’s making their way out of her space, conveniently causing you to catch her alone. She welcomes you with open arms as soon as you start approaching her with fast steps—though it was equally as heavy.

Before she could even get a word in, your tears greeted her gaze, piercing her on the inside. She pulls you to the side near the exit, giving you her full attention. 

Because clearly, it was your unspoken call for emergency.

“We need to go,” you said—words you could barely make out through a hoarse voice.

“What happene- wait. Hold on, why? Where have you been?” her grip remained firm, “y/n, can you please look at me?”

You stayed still for a moment before turning your whole body towards her. 

Your jacket was half-on, the other was still hanging out from one of your sleeves, hurriedly done as a failed attempt of covering the glow that illuminates your skin. 

“Can we at least go outside and talk? I promise.. I- I’ll explain it all.”

When she saw your glowing infinity sign, Kate did not waste any time. 

Guarding you away from suspicious eyes, your cousin safely guided you out the door in the midst of the crowd. This calms your nerves, even just for a little bit. She was glad you miraculously hadn’t found her drunk off her ass. It would be a different story if you had to take care of her on top of whatever is troubling you at the moment. 

Escaping the riotous scene of the party, the two of you have finally found solace at the bottom of the stairs by the porch. You look around, and she waits for you to speak. 

Kate is patiently standing in front of you—a gesture you appreciate. You knew how impatient she could be at times, fully aware of the questions running wild inside her brain every second of silence that passes. 

However, as you were both consumed in the suspense, you didn’t notice the front door open. 

“Y/n.”

Sunwoo appears, out of breath, in the same state you had been moments before. Just as you were searching for Kate, he too, was trying to get a hold of you. 

When you two locked eyes, everything had been revealed. 

He didn’t need to see your mark to know it has changed in appearance. You wore that distraught expression, painting the scene for Sunwoo as if he himself had witnessed what happened in that room between you and his best mate. 

He cautiously starts walking down the stairs—and his eyes continue to fall upon you.

You studied them carefully; guilt and regret flashed before your own.  These emotions that have been projected onto you have been bitterly reminding you everything that went wrong with your match. 

Your cousin is getting frustrated. 

She can sense that there is a silent exchange that’s going on between you and Sunwoo, not having one clue of what it all means.

“Look, y/n I- I tried to find him first..” Sunwoo starts explaining.

“Even if you did.. we would have ended up finding each other anyway,” you whispered, attempting to balance your tone to hide any hints of spitefulness that poisoned your thoughts with the best of your abilities. 

“Who is it?” Kate insisted. It is her demand to know rather than offering a question as a request.

Diverting the focus, you made up another justification without actually answering her question, “We settled it- agreed on the same thing.. no need to worry now.”

“But-” the boy rebuts, now met with another interruption. 

“One of you has to come clean and tell me who is it because I will not hesitate to drag your sorry excuse of a soulmate out here and explain why.. y/n—you did not come to me crying just for you to tell me not to fucking worry.” 

Kate is now furious. 

His name tastes bittersweet on your tongue, but you eventually answered, “Eric. It’s Eric.” 

Sunwoo staggered breathing says a lot about what he knows. He sensed Kate’s dagger stare—she makes a mental note about grilling him with questions later. 

“You met him,” he said in an ambiguous tone. Whether it was a question or a statement, you simply nodded to get the answer across.  

Your cousin holds onto your wrist, gesturing you to face her and ask more questions, but you hold your place. 

“Later. Can we please just go?” you pleaded to Kate one last time, initiating that eye contact was all she needed. 

Before you finally start walking, you wanted to tell Sunwoo one last thing, “Don’t mention anything to him.. w- we’re moving past it, okay?” 

Although, you know that that statement was a reminder for yourself at the same time. 

Sunwoo gives you a knowing look and nods without saying another word. You looked down at your feet, taking another second to compose yourself before following your cousin out the yard. Taking a step out surely took more than a simple decision—a part of you wished to stay behind and said something differently. 

“Argh-”

A sharp and crushing pressure has taken over your chest. For a second it looked like you missed a step and fell down the stairs but as you staggered on the ground, clutching the pressing point near your heart, it clearly showed that there was pain.

It came from within.

“Y/n!” Kate ran towards you, a little late from saving you from the impact as she pulled you up from the floor. 

“It hurts.. c- can’t breathe..”

As you try regaining your ability to breathe freely, your cousin looks toward Sunwoo who seemed to have been frozen from the place he was standing. 

“Shit- it can’t be what I think it is..” 

“Sunwoo, what’s happening?”

He doesn’t answer Kate’s question. Sunwoo tries to get a hold of someone through a call, every failed attempt is shown by his frustrated huff and sighs. Somewhere along the lines, he mumbles Eric’s name and that alone gives you an idea of why this is happening—and you wish you didn't.

You pleaded, still unable to hold yourself up all alone, “Pleas- make.. it stop.”

Upon hearing that, the boy starts turning to get back in the house. Even though you had the hunch of what your pain implies, your cousin insisted on knowing herself. Slowly settling you down the steps, Kate runs up to Sunwoo and asks for an explanation. 

She had to know before the night ended. 

He glances back at your defeated posture. Sunwoo’s expression sincerely reflected the concern of a friend who wanted to help, sadly, he doesn’t know how.

“This..” he starts, “this is what happens when you’ve been matched and your mate is with someone else.”

previous | next

a/n: this is very very very late i know.. i probably won’t be able to promise that there’s going to be a reliable schedule onwards but i hope you can still enjoy the story! thank you for waiting and for loving this story !

taglist:  @sunqnyu @haylo4ever @hyunvelies @deobi-pabo @lsangyeons @sangyeon-lee @sunwoowuvbot @elcie-chxn @zyoumeval @nyuwings @hae-chans @mistresskate101 @heartyyjeno @nanadreamies @bacardihs @sanniescat @gughoul @hhjvlogs @owlieee @sellefics @93s-club @lovecn @silent-potato @pimpnameyannie @lovelyutas (part one)

[escapist-dreams]

Fix it ~ Invincible Fanfiction

Summary: Rex's hand gets damaged in a fight. No one is willing to help him, so he helps himself.

Warnings: spoilers for both the Invincible animated show(episode 7) and comics(issue #40) concerning Rex-Splode, injuries(nothing nearly as graphic as the source material)

Word Count: 2.3k

This is my first Invincible fanfic, and one of the first fics I've written in awhile! Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! Feel free to tell me what you think about it! Constructive criticism would be appreciated :D

"We meet yet again, Invincible!" D.A. Sinclair shouted with his usual dramatic flair. He had escaped from the government facility a couple months ago and holed up in a sewer, making more of his fucked up 'reanimen' who the new Guardians of the Globe were now fighting.

His army of cyborgs were unleashed onto the fleeing crowd, more destructive than self destructive this time. Sinclair must've taken notes from his previous failures.

While they targeted the heroes, civilians were caught in the crossfire left and right. Dupli-Kate evacuated the remaining civilians while Shrinking-Rae fought off any cyborgs coming near. The rest of the team tried to disarm the cyborgs without killing them, which Mark made them agree to do before the fight.

Invincible went through one after the other, knocking out the cyborgs, one could tell he was holding back. Monster Girl knocked out a good chunk of them, but accidentally killed one or two with the strength of her monster form. One of them slammed her against a building, sending a big crack up the wall, no doubt affecting civilians in the upper floors. Shrinking-Rae rushed to save those in the building affected by the crack, while Monster Girl slumped against the wall, down for the count.

Rex-Splode made it past the wall of reanimen defending Sinclair and shot a projectile at his torso. He stumbled as the magnet hit his side and exploded, only grazing him but doing damage all the same. He cupped a hand around the wound, and when he regained his composure, looked directly at Rex.

"You'll pay for that!" With a movement of his hand, D. A. Sinclair ordered the cyborg to target Rex-Splode.

"Sure I will, asshole!" Rex smirked and raised his hand again, aiming for Sinclair's head. The cyborg intervened, lunging towards Rex, who dodged and backed away. He couldn't kill the guy, but he really didn't want to get beat to a bloody pulp today. He made a split second decision to shoot him in the legs to slow him down. He did so, but all he received for his efforts was the sound of a small metal impact. He'd missed the human parts, the projectile only slightly slowed the cyborg.

Just as he was about to shoot again, the cyborg grabbed his hand, crushing flesh and metal alike. Rex doubled over as a wave of pain hit him like a brick. He tried to push past it after a few moments, looking up just in time to see Robot come up behind the reaniman, knocking him out with a punch. Invincible grabbed a piece of metal from a street sign that had been crushed in the wreckage of the battle and bent it tightly around Sinclair, effectively trapping him. And since the cyborgs were all either knocked out or no longer under his control, the battle was over.

"You couldnt've done that earlier?" Rex complained as Mark tied up Sinclair, wincing in pain. Several members of the team gave him a familiar look of annoyance.

"Maybe if you weren't too busy cowering we would've finished this sooner." Samson stated.

"I wasn't--!" Rex began, but he doubled over again before he could finish, another wave of pain hitting him.

The rest of the team had sustained some injuries as well, but they were able to shake it off for the most part by the time they arrived back at the guardians' base.

"Hey Robot-" Rex tried to catch him before they fully returned to the group.

"It's Rudy."

"Right. Rudy, can you uh.." he pointed to his busted up hand, the blood dried onto the metal. Rudy made a wincing sound at the sight, then looked to their friends, who were in a group celebrating the won battle.

"Hm.. That's going to take a bit to fix, if you can wait I'll fix it in a couple minutes." he decided. Rex opened his mouth to protest, but closed it and nodded in agreement. The two rejoined the group.

They spent a few minutes having conversations in small groups, some about the fight, and some about completely different things. After about half an hour passed, Mark got up from his seat, explaining that he needed to get back home, as he had some homework to finish up. Slowly the group dissolved, rejoining their everyday lives. Rex ran to catch Rudy before he and Amanda left.

"Hey Rudy, can you fix this thing before you go? If you couldn't tell, it *kinda* hurts." Rex gestured to his hand, pulling the glove up a bit to show the broken metal and bloody skin.

"Can it wait, Rex? Me and Amanda are getting lunch." he paused, conflicted, "you can join if you want." he offered politely, but judging by the looks on his and Amanda's face, it wasn't an invitation.

"I'll pass." Rex sighed, unsure if he was more angry or sad about it at this point. Rudy shrugged as if to say "your loss", and he and Amanda left the base. Rex left as well a few moments later, Kate and Rae's conversation fading behind him as he made his way to his apartment.

Rex tried to ignore it, he really did. But god, it hurt. He must've been in shock before, but now that he had time to really think about and feel the injury, the pain set in. The metal of his hand had torn into his flesh and he was afraid to move it for fear of further lodging it into his arm. After awhile of trying to ignore the injury, Rex decided he couldn't take it anymore. If no one would help him, he would help himself.

Rex knew a thing or two about robotics since he got his powers from the devices in his wrists, and had been taught a bit at the facility for use in battlefield situations. So he got some spare tools he used for small repairs on his arms and got to work fixing his hand. It took just about all night, but by the end he was fairly confident that he'd at least helped the situation.

He must've done something right because next time the guardians fought a villain, he was able to shoot the projectiles from his hand. No need to ask Rudy for help. And the next time it was damaged, and he fixed it himself again. This time his aim was slightly off. He hit several walls, the ground, and nearly a civilian before his desired target, but it was fine, right? He hit the guy eventually, he missed the civilian, and it still worked decently well.

He continued to repair it himself, using the knowledge from his previous mishaps to improve upon it. It continued to have slight malfunctions, but it worked.

Until it didn't.

He aimed, and shot, but the small explosive wouldn't budge. It wouldn't leave his hand, something blocked it. The BB lit up as he tried to shoot, but it exploded in his hand.

"Fuck!" Rex yelled, throwing a magnet from his belt with his offhand and dodging out of the way of an oncoming attack.

The team made quick work of the enemy, but not before they got a few good hits in on Dupli-Kate and Monster Girl as well. Amanda was slumped against a wall while Kate Prime nursed an injury on her side.

Back at the base, Rudy was busy being at Amanda's side. She had a minor concussion, but overall she was alright. The excessive blood from a cut on her head made the injury look more serious than it was. They were thankful that she was alright, minus a bit of blood loss and a head injury.

Rex wanted to celebrate her quick recovery longer than he did, but hesitantly left after drinks were had and the party died down a bit. He knew he would have to work on his hand for awhile to get it in working order and get any sleep that night.

It was already much later in the day by the time he arrived at his apartment. Repairs went well for the most part. He had passed out before realigning the metal, but quickly aligned it before heading to the base that morning, presumably deeming it functional, which was an achievement in Rex's opinion considering how badly it was broken and lack of materials. He got hardly any sleep, but he wasn't exactly the type to usually get a full eight hours every night anyways.

The next day after training, Rudy approached Rex unexpectedly.

"Hey Rex, I noticed your hand got busted up pretty badly yesterday. Need me to fix it?" Rudy offered, glancing at Rex's barely-together hand with a hint of what might be worry. Rex scoffed.

"Oh no it's fine," he said, half proud of his work and half bitter at Rudy. "I figured it out."

Rudy gave him a curious look, pausing for a moment before repeating, "You 'figured it out'?"

Rex nodded, taking off his glove and showing off his hand, which he'd barely been able to peice back together the night before. "I figured it out."

He'd had to patch up the hand with spare metal parts and slightly off-size bolts, but it wasn't too bad of a job. From a certain angle, it'd look fine even. A bit busted up, used for sure, but functional. Now, from the angle of someone with as much knowledge in robotics as Rudy had, the sight was returned after a long pause with a vaguely annoyed, "this is going to take awhile."

"What're you two doing?" Amanda asked, walking into the workroom with a half empty carton of disguised booze.

"Rex tried to fix his hand. By himself." Rudy explained condescendingly after a pause that made it obvious he was focused on his work. Rex scoffed at the answer.

"I think I did a great job, thank you very much." And besides being proud of his attempt at fixing it, the way he phrased it made Rex sound like an idiot, as if he hadn't asked for help several times before deciding to fix the problem himself.

"You put the metal covering back in place just off enough to block the projectile, the bolts are all the wrong size, and part of it is still jabbing into your arm. This isn't even the right kind of.." he trailed off, clicking a new bolt in place before mumbling, "how did you even fight like this-?!"

"Well it's not like you bothered to help me when I asked.." Rex answered with the tone of an upset child.

"You didn't say how bad it was."

"I showed you! You saw it!" Rex nearly shouted, frustration and anger bubbling up in his chest and out his mouth.

"I would have fixed this easily if you'd asked sooner."

"I did ask sooner!"

"You could've asked when I wasn't busy." Rudy spoke nearly absent-mindedly, focusing intently on prying part of the metal out of damaged tissue that tried to heal around it.

Rex hissed in pain before responding, "When were you not busy? I asked you like three times, you told me to wait!"

"I just told you, I was busy. Why didn't you go to Cecil for this?"

"Oh yeah, like I'm asking some creepy ass guy from the government to fix my hand- No fucking way!" Rex tried to ignore the hint of fear in his chest at the idea of some shady government operative poking and prodding at him in a blindingly white room.

"You'd rather bother me than ask someone whose job it is to fix things for help?"

"I'd rather ask my friend for help!"

"You could have asked when I wasn't busy." Rudy repeated, obviously struggling to keep his cool. "I'm not going to drop everything for you, Rex!"

"Yeah? Of course not, but I bet you'd drop everything for her." Rex pointed at Amanda, who had a front row seat to the argument standing in the doorway. The two locked eyes for a moment, then Rudy looked away to glare at Rex.

"At least she offers something to the team. She's an invaluable asset and I need to keep her safe." He didn't need to shout, his tone and words cut deeper than raw anger could.

"Well pardon me for wanting to be able to use my fucking hand--"

"Excuse me?" Amanda snapped, glaring at Rudy. "Rex is my friend, and I won't reciprocate your crush on me just because you look like him and aged down for me. I don't owe you shit. And being a dick to the guy whose face you stole doesn't make you more appealing."

"But I--" Rudy was at a loss for words; a rare occurrence. Scrambling to regain his composure, he blurted out, "But I did this for you!"

"I don't owe you shit for that." she repeated firmly. "And if how you treat Rex is any indication, I wouldn't want to be with you, if this is how you treat a long time friend who needs help."

"Exactly!" Rex agreed, relieved that Amanda stepped in. Rudy glared at him before catching himself and looking back towards Amanda, who sighed angrily.

"He couldn't have asked Cecil!?" Rudy reiterated, grasping at straws trying to 'win' the argument he'd already lost.

"He's obviously uncomfortable with that, or he would've done it already. Something you would notice if you bothered to give him a second glance." Amanda snapped back. "He came to you for help, and you lectured him for it."

"I.."

"Let's go, Rex. This asshole isn't worth our time." she decided. Rex followed her out the door to rejoin the rest of the group with a satisfied sort of pride in his chest. It felt nice to be defended by someone other than himself.

The door slammed shut.

[whump-a-la-mode]

Villian-Sicle | Part 5

I feel like now would be a pertinent time to mention that this is my first attempt at writing a sort of drabble series. The majority of my work is 50k-100k word nerd ass novels, and I think that this part will make that unfortunately abundantly apparent. I’m sorry for just how long it is, but I’ve absolutely loved writing these characters, and I got a little bit carried away with fleshing out the world a bit more ^^

Also, I feel I should probably mention that, though characters in this story speak Latin, I do not know any Latin. I wrote this using dictionaries and very basic grammar guides, and I sincerely hope I did not mess up too bad.

Thank you for reading! It’s a long one, but I hope you’ll enjoy.

CW//Superhero whump, villain whumpee, hypothermia, military setting (kinda), pet whump, dehumanization, past trauma, muzzles, restraints, conditioned whumpee, depiction of an implied panic attack, denial of water

Taglist:

@whatwhumpcomments

@sola-whumping

@professional-idiocy

Villain couldn’t help but shake and buck their head as a corrugation of metal and leather was slipped over their face, securing their jaw in its current position and forcing them to bite down against the pressure. It had been fitted since last time, they noted rather hollowly-- with a piece of padding now standing between the bridge of their noise and the harsh metal wires. Regardless of how many adjustments were made to the piece, however, making it comfortable seemed beyond their ability.

They, in this specific circumstance, referred mainly to the two soldiers before Villain. Trainer was the only one of the two that they knew the name of-- though they were nearly unrecognizable beneath the layers of gear shrouding their appearance.

The helmet they wore resembled more so that of a motorcyclist rather than that of an armed combatant, but the rest of their kit was far more military. Beneath their uniform bulged the clear outlines of a tac-vest, with their hands shielded by Kevlar gloves, constructed of an intricate mesh of triangular pieces, in a similar manner to chain-mail.

The other soldier was dressed in nearly identical kit, just without the gloves-- those were for handlers, which this other soldier must’ve surely not been. They turned to Trainer, noises in an odd language curling off their tongue. Trainer replied with a laugh.

With practiced hands, Trainer took the muzzle’s straps and secured them behind Villain’s head, tightening the metal until it dug into their skin, tearing at old sores created by the same device. Their leash was quickly hooked to a ring protruding from the muzzle’s wires.

“Manibus.” Trainer’s voice spoke. They nearly flinched at the sheer speed at which Villain offered their hands. Momentarily, Trainer ghosted their fingers over the leather mitten restraints that kept Villain’s fine motor abilities under control. They checked the wrist straps, ensuring their tautness, nodding their approval.

“Abeamus?” The other soldier suggested, to which Trainer gave another nod. They wrapped Villain’s leash around their wrist, halving its length, until there was negligible slack in the line.

Another group of soldiers, all dressed in military-style garments of their own, loitered together by the door to the staging room. They looked to Trainer, marginally straightening their postures, and, presumably, minimizing the amount of swearing in their speech.

With a few words and a flick of the wrist, the squadron was off.

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Leader couldn’t stop looking at Villain’s eyes.

They weren’t quite certain what had pulled them into such an odd trance. It was nothing about color, certainly, nor anything else physical or inherent-- they were unremarkable, in such respects. No, it was certainly something about the expression they portrayed.

A moment ago, they’d seen shattering fear turn to fury in these eyes. Now, they seemed blank, as though constructed of glass and merely painted upon. There was no expression beyond them, no recognition, no indication that Villain’s mind was occupied by anything at all. Their gaze stared straight through Leader, through the ceiling above as well.

Leader was torn from their daze by a commotion from behind them as the door was thrown open. Medic was nearly knocked over as Hero burst in, followed more ploddingly by Counselor.

“Be careful.” Leader warned, looking up and turning to the group. “There’s broken shit everywhere.”

Hero’s eyes darted around the room, seemingly taking in the mess. Broken glass coated the tile floor in a thin dusting of shards, while various mechanical parts still smoked in whatever place they had happened to end up. The lights had been blown out completely, leaving the lighting in the room to be provided by a flashlight laid on a countertop, as well as, now, the light soaking in from the hallway.

After their panicked scan, Hero settled their gaze on Villain.

“Are they...”

“They’re fine.” Medic interrupted.

“They’re not moving.”

“Well... I’m going to hazard to say that that’s a good thing. If I had to guess, it seems like a shock response. It’s not exactly my biggest concern, right about now.”

“What about the, uh, bleeding hole in their chest?”

“That would be my biggest concern.”

Medic grabbed a variety of, miraculously undamaged, medical supplies from a cupboard, setting to work at Villain’s wound. It was small, deliberate, having been incised to be used as an access point for the dialysis machine, but Leader had a feeling that even minor blood loss could be a death sentence, at this point.

Hero and Counselor hovered, for a moment, at Villain’s bedside, while Medic did their work. Leader stood back, nearly having to forcibly tear their gaze from that of Villain.

That odd sort of silence remained for several moments, if not minutes, as Medic’s deft hands worked to close the wound. It was only when the last suture was tied that Counselor spoke up-- one of the only times they had done so for the whole mission.

“Leader?”

“Hm?”

“What’s our plan, exactly? What are our orders?”

They raised a brow. Counselor was never that direct-- nor that military.

“Um...” It felt quite stupid, being caught unprepared like this, but in their defense, they had nearly just been killed by an exploding air conditioner. “I... I don’t want to hazard doing anything until Villain is stable.”

“That was your plan before.” Medic muttered as they pried latex gloves from their hands. “It almost got us killed.”

“Right. Yeah, um, are they stable enough? For transport?”

“They’re not going to bleed out, if that’s your concern. Physically, I’d say they’re stable. Mentally? I think we need to get them to a secure location before they snap out of this fugue state.”

“Alright.” Leader chewed their tongue. “Let’s get the van ready, then.”

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The ship’s deck was notably busy, despite the fact that it was relatively late at night. The vessel’s skeleton crew hurried about, keeping it afloat and on track, while outdated Humvees drove in chaotic paths. What the commotion was about was beyond Villain’s knowledge, or their capacity to care. All that mattered was fighting their instinct to cover their ears, and ensuring that they were keeping up with Trainer.

They could feel it-- the boat-- beneath them. The millions of systems and circuits and electrons, thrumming and being jolted about by a swaying sea.

The small company that Trainer had gathered made their way to the far end of the deck, where a VTOL plane was already humming, waiting for its crew to board. They did so, clustering themselves into the compact cabin. There was, notably, no room the vessel for a pilot-- all steering operations would be handled by an artificial intelligence of sorts. Villain greeted the computer program, but it did not respond.

Trainer settled themself into a middle seat at the front of the cabin. Villain sat obediently at their side, at which point their leash was secured to a handrail sticking out of the wall. They rested their head against the window. Though the cabin was crowded, at the very least, Villain was no longer forced to make the trip in the K9 compartment.

Once every member of the company was settled and seated, the VTOL’s doors slid shut, and the engine thwapp-thwapp-thwapped until the aircraft was off the ground. It shot upwards for a second, traveling several hundred feet in the time, before entering a linear dive and settling for a position around fifty feet above the choppy waters.

Villain closed their eyes, allowing their mind to wander to the creature around them. The VTOL contained what was likely the most complex computer program that the Organization had. Despite all its bells and whistles, however, it paid no mind to Villain’s prodding and wandering.

The plane’s route was not awfully complex. The vehicle was designed, surtout, for water-based travel. Though it could move over land, it struggled to rise above three hundred or so feet, making it useless for far-inland routes. Wherever it was going today was, luckily, on the coast-- somewhere in the forests of Washington state.

If they so wished, Villain could alter the route in any way they so pleased. They could send the aircraft into the ocean below, or back into the ship, or into the first land they saw. It would be simple-- all their problems gone in a moment.

Once the plane’s angle had leveled out, Trainer stood, moving to the front of the plane. Villain gnashed their teeth, attempting to rise from their seat, but finding themself limited by the taut leather line on their muzzle. They were too far, they were on mission, they shouldn’t have been so far, come on, come on. The leash refused to give way, however, leaving them firmly affixed in position.

Trainer cleared their throat, drawing the attention of the gathered company. They began to speak, words taking on quite a commanding air, though Villain only understand a few choice phrases.

“Incursus” was the one that made them prick their ears. They had heard it only a few times before. In conversation, once or twice, but more notably during mission briefings. The last time they had heard it... several missions ago, before they had been briefly confined to the medical wing.

The word itself was meaningless-- its implications less so.

Villain gulped, their jaw straining against the wires of their muzzle.

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Leader walked at the side of the gurney, ghosting a hand over one of the siderails all the while. A pair of doctors pushed the gurney itself, with Medic trailing close behind, and Hero and Counselor at their sides.

In contrast with the upper floors, the hospital’s lobby floor was brightly lit, almost overwhelmingly so, with expanses of floor-to-ceiling windows. The beige carpeting was bathed with the last remnants of sunrise orange-- it had been a long night.

The few patients in the hospital at such as hour were hurried out of the way as the gurney moved through. A scattering of nurses and varied hospital personnel were littered about, watching the Heroes’ procession, but staying several yards away, unwilling to even be in Villain’s vicinity.

Leader looked down at the gurney. A blanket had been draped over Villain, working to keep them at a stable temperature. Their fabric and webbing restraints had been replaced by those made of metal.

Their eyes were open. They had been the whole time. Despite, they had yet to struggle in any form.

The automatic doors at the front of the lobby rumbled open, allowing the gurney to be pushed through. A team of doctors and Leader’s own personnel stood outside, gathered around an ambulance with its back doors hanging open. The doctors pushing the gurney passed it off to some of the stronger personnel, who lifted the contraption into the vehicle’s back, securing it.

Leader nodded their thanks, and moved to get behind the vehicle’s wheel.

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The ship hadn’t been too far off of the East coast to begin with, making the trip to Washington a relatively short one. It took one hour, thirty-six minutes, and eighty-two seconds, to be exact-- far more amicable than the 16-hour trips they had endured in the past.

The VTOL had made a measured descent into a forest clearing, shredding the grass below with its landing gear. With the doors open, the company had scrambled out; Trainer taking Villain’s leash in hand once more.

In the clearing, there had been no sign of life besides a scurrying songbird or two. Villain had only then realized a far more unpleasant aspect of the mission.

They were going to be marching.

Not marching, exactly, they supposed. There was no regimented order to it, it was more like hiking. Just... hiking for hours. The VTOL couldn’t go too far inland, and landing it close to a target was often impossible.

So, they marched.

Sometimes, heaven would be merciful, and the trek would be short, of only a mile or so. On crueler days, though, they would move for hours-- breaking only for water, which Villain would watch the soldiers drink with a parched throat.

Even just from the look of the clearing, and its location, however, Villain had been able to tell that today was not one of those more merciful occasions.

When the plane had landed, the moon at been at its highest point--signifying that midnight had struck. For the first few hours, they walked in darkness, until dawn slowly began to creep up.

All in all, the trek had taken four hours, most of which were spent walking. By the time the group stopped and crouched down, Villain felt their legs were about to snap. It had been far too many hours and far too many miles since they had cared to look at their surroundings. All that mattered was Trainer, and staying awake.

The company made themselves small among an area of heavy undergrowth. Trainer let Villain’s leash loosely hang around their wrist. Even if the technopath had any desire to flee, they doubted they could even get their legs back under them.

One of the soldiers spoke up, somehow sounding hardly winded. Though most of their words served as nonsense to Villain’s ears, one did stick out: Scopum. It was one of the words Trainer had used, back when they were teaching Villain how to search and retrieve objects.

Trainer nodded, took a drink of water from a canteen, and got to their knees. They pointed to something behind the bushes-- Villain got on their knees to look at well.

Over the wall of undergrowth, a building could be seen. It wasn’t particularly notable-- it would be best described as a cabin, with rustic architecture and an array of out-of-season Christmas lights. It seemed to be a vacation home of sorts; large enough to fit a family, certainly, but not a place anyone would live permanently.

Was this their Scopum? Their goal?

Trainer took hold again of Villain’s leash and stood. The real mission was just about to begin, and Villain could hardly stand.

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The drive from the hospital to their base was longer than Leader would have preferred, enough to make them nervously request updates every few minutes, much to Medic’s distaste.

The base stood at the edge of one of Washington’s denser forests, about half an hour out from the city proper. The location provided security, and in their group’s early days, secrecy, but it made transport difficult.

“Hey, Medic?” Leader started.

“Villain is fine. They’re still out of it. Cabin temperature is staying steady at 70, their body temperature is just about where it should be. Keep your damn eyes on the road.”

Leader nodded, biting the inside of their cheek. City traffic had been left behind a few miles ago, leaving only empty back roads. Seven minutes to go, the GPS diligently reported.

“We’re close now, then.” Medic spoke, starting the conversation for once. They weren’t usually the one to do such a thing, but Hero and Counselor were in the ambulance’s back. “What are you thinking?”

“Thinking?”

“Your plans. Please don’t forget that you’re the leader around here, you give the orders. What do we do, when we get back to base?”

Leader bit their tongue to prevent themself from snapping at that passive insult. They were glad for the change in topic, at least.

“Our first priority is keeping ourselves safe. Villain’s safety is second priority-- I’m not sacrificing anything to keep their wellbeing. But I wouldn’t consider them a threat, right now. I assume you would like to keep them in the med bay?”

“For now, at least. They’re stable, but the fact that they’re still breathing is a miracle. I want to have my equipment nearby if they crash.”

“As long as it’s safe, then.”

“And then what?”

“Then... they’re still a prisoner, injured or not. Then we put them in the cells.”

“We don’t have any cells?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The company moved swiftly, forcing Villain’s legs to wake up to the horrible feeling of pins and needles. Trainer remained at the group’s head, leading them forth to the cabin.

It must have looked quite ridiculous, to an outsider. Villain would have laughed if they were able.

The group stopped before the quaint structure.

“Aperire.” Trainer ordered. Villain gnashed their teeth.

The command was a simple one, generally. It meant that they were to open something-- usually a door, or a box, or an encrypted device. The wooden door before them, however, had no electric component; it didn’t even seem to have a lock at all.

Still, they dove into the few electronics that the building did host. The Christmas lights seemed to be meaningless noise-- they tore through those, searching instead through the inner electronics. They were uncomplicated, so much so that their purpose couldn’t be so much as guessed.

Villain panicked, gnashing their teeth, shaking their head against the muzzle. They didn’t know what to do. They could feel their heartbeat, pounding in their head, throbbing.

“Aperire.” Trainer repeated. It only increased Villain’s heartrate-- what were hey doing wrong? Please, what were they doing wrong? They dove back into the systems. There was no door to be seen, just the lights, just some random system. They decided on the latter, tripping the system, just as they drew blood from biting down on their own tongue.

The house rumbled.

Instead of opening as a door should, the rustic home’s door slid into the wall, revealing a brightly-lit interior-- devoid of both furniture and interest.

The only point of interest was at the very center of the floor: A ramp, leading downwards.

Villain gulped. With rougher hands than before, Trainer yanked at their leash, forcing them forth. Together, the two descended, the company right on their heels.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

The base-- it had no real name, it was simply “the base”-- was an uncomplicated corrugation of concrete walls and sparse entranceways. It had been constructed as the shell of a factory, years ago, a factory which eventually fell through. Since then, Leader had organized quite a renovation of the property.

They drove the ambulance to the base’s parking lot, backing up to the curb as near to the entrance as they could.

“You worried?” Medic asked.

“Mhm.” Leader nodded, hopping out of the cockpit and to the asphalt below. The ambulance’s rear doors had already been swung open, with Hero and Counselor working to guide the gurney from it.

Villain still laid on the bed, shrouded with blankets, nearly comatose.

Their eyes moved.

Leader did a double-take, looking back to the figure on the gurney. Villain’s gaze had moved, now directing itself straight at Leader. Whatever expression they were portraying... it looked like fear.

Leader frowned. They moved to the transport bed’s side, placing their hands on the rails.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The ramp descended at least a story into the earth.

With every step they took, Villain could feel their mind become more and more cluttered. At first, they could only hear the simple lighting and ventilation systems, but as they grew deeper, more noises joined the cacophony. Computers and servers, medical equipment and weaponry, it all blended together, all humming, all whirring, all chanting until it made Villain’s head hurt.

At the base of the ramp, which they only reached after what felt like an eternity, stood a simple door. Nothing more than a steel barrier.

“Perdere.”

That command was about as simple as they came. Within a split second, the door, and half of the wall, before Villain had been decimated to rubble.

On the other side of the newly-torn door, a figure moved. Villain flinched, gnawing again on their bloodied tongue. Trainer forced them forward.

The room was empty, devoid, as the past one had been. There was no furniture, no weaponry, no defense. Only a person, standing squarely before the door at the far end.

Their wings brushed the room’s walls.

Leader glared.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

As they leaned over Villain’s bedside, Leader smiled-- an expression as gentle as they could make it. They weren’t sure what had suddenly turned them so soft. Pity, maybe? Somehow, though, it tugged at them in the same way as nostalgia.

They brushed a hand over Villain’s shoulder.

“Hey. You’re gonna be okay.”

The next part was the stupid one. The soft one, the one that would have made anyone in any faction laugh. One that, if anyone had heard it, Leader surely never would have lived down. Even they were not sure why they spoke it.

Five simple words. Five words without meaning.

“Welcome to your new home.”

[lils-writes-stuff]

Self-fulfilling Prophecy

spencer reid x reader

Best Years Part two | Part one

summary: As the team investigates the mass suicides at Somerville academy, the tensions between the reader and Spencer rise. Ad the reader gets a note from a past memory. 

Warnings: normal Criminal minds things, more slow build up. 

A/N: based on season 7 episode 9 of criminal minds.  

  Y/N sat in her swivel chair at her desk, blue pen in her hand lightly tapping as she was deep in thought. All different kinds of emotions hitting her brain as she tried to put them all together, not knowing if it was something she should worry about or push aside. Her thoughts were soon broken by the smell of a fresh cup of coffee filling her senses. She turned and looked at a smiling Dr. Spencer Reid holding out her mug to her. 

   “You are the best Spence, thank you.” She smiled at him while she took the mug from his large hand. 

   “No problem, really,” he responded with a small smile, leaning himself against the edge of her desk. “You seem like something’s bothering you, what’s up?” 

   His question made her stop. To be honest she didn’t really know what was wrong. One thing she did know was that she was developing feelings for the good doctor in front of her. Other than that, she didn’t know. 

   He watched her pause. Thinking he crossed a line he began to get flustered. 

   “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t-I mean,” he stumbled over his words. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he explained.

   She looked up at him shaking her head, “No, no you didn’t.” She reassured him before she paused again trying to think of how to explain her feelings. “I’m not really sure if I’m being honest with you Spence,” she said, placing her mug down on her desk before she crossed her arms. 

   A security thing, Spencer thought as he watched her fold her arms across her chest and lean forward. 

   “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, not really knowing how to respond. Well, he knew how he wanted to respond but it wasn’t the most rational thing to say to someone who he didn’t even know if they had feelings for him also. “If there’s something you need or-or even someone you want to talk to, I’m here.” 

   Her heart fluttered.

   She smiled at him before she let her thoughts get in the way. “Thanks, Spence, I’ll keep that in mind.” 

   He gave a slight nod before taking a sip of his own coffee. 

   “You know I-” Y/N was cut off.

   “Guys,” Hotch said, getting the attention of the team down in the bullpen as he nodded towards the round table room. 

--------

   “Somerville Military Academy, Oceanside, Florida. Five boys were found hanging this morning,” Hotch began as he and Strauss began to explain the case.

   “Five?” Y/N said, a worried tone in her voice.

   “Yes, five,” Hotch said, confirming her doubt. 

   “The bodies are at the medical examiner’s now,” Strauss explained.

   “There’s no photos?” Derek asked, eyebrows raised. 

   “School personnel thought they may still be alive,” Strauss began. “So they cut them out of the trees.”

Y/N let out a slight sigh, an uneasy feeling forming in her stomach at the thought. Spencer looked at her with worry, silently asking her if she was okay. 

All good, she mouthed to him which he responded with a nod.  

   “Jimmy Burbage, Phil Mumford, Jerry Bowden, Jack Briggs, Tucker Calhoun,” Hotch spoke, listing out all the victims in the file.  

   “So we’re walking into a contaminated crime scene,” Derek said, with a slight question in his tone. “We don’t have anything solid?” 

   “ ‘We’re sorry’, was carved in a tree branch nearby,” Hotch answered Derek’s question.

   “This happened on campus?” Emily asked, looking at Hotch. 

   “No, in the woods about an hour away,” he responded. 

   “How long were they out there?” Y/N asked.

   “Six days,” Strauss responded looking at her. 

   Y/N’s eyebrows raised, “Without supervision?”

   “It was an outward bound mission, for the upperclassman,” Strauss responded. She seemed slightly annoyed with her and Y/N just looked away without a question. 

   “What drove them to Suicide?” Spencer asked. 

   “Freshman cadet, Bailey Shelton, hung himself two weeks ago in his room,” Strauss explained.

   “Identical bed sheets, hangman’s knot,” Hotch said, giving more to the explanation.

   “Who takes sheets camping?” Rossi asked, the look of thought on his face showing through. 

   “They would if it was the plan,” JJ said, looking at those around the table.

   “Could be a domino effect,” Y/N said, adding more to JJ’s theory. 

   “Campus would have been on high alert after the first one, so the kids wait until they’re alone in the woods,” said Rossi. 

   “They must’ve made some kind of pact,” Derek agreed. 

   “And there’s something else,” Hotch began. “Six kids went on the trip. Only five were found.”

      Y/N let out another quiet sigh, this seemed a lot more complicated then the academy was probably going to let on. 

   “School officials confirmed Josh Redding is still missing,” Strauss said. 

   “Maybe he chickened out of the pact,” Derek said, trying to find a reason as to why he was missing. 

   “Or was never part of it,” Spencer added to Derek’s thought.

   “Campus is completely off the grid, no internet,” Hotch said. 

   “I can help with that,” Garcia said looking back at Hotch.

   “Which is why you’re coming with us,” Hotch said to her. 

   “Oh,” she responded not expecting that. 

   “And so am I,” Strauss said, causing everyone to look at her. Surprise all evident on their faces.   

   “Isn’t Somerville the director’s Alma Mater,” Rossi asked, to no one in particular really.

   “Yes. The academy has enjoyed a spotless reputation, so the hope is to keep the investigation in house,” Strauss explained.  

   “I imagine there’s a lot of concern for Josh,” Emily stated. “He’s been out there for almost a week.” 

   Everyone looked around at each other for a second.

   “So how’s he surviving?” JJ asked.

-------

   “So, Somerville Academy was founded during World War II,” Garcia began. “It is a hard-core old school, they don’t even have a website.” She finished her statement with a slight mumble. 

   “Socioeconomic breakdown all over the map,” Emily said looking down at the file in her lap. 

   “Yeah so are the ages,” Y/N said as she looked at the pamphlet in her hand. “Students are 12 to 18 years old.” 

   “All on the same campus, in the same dorms,” JJ said, continuing to read what was in front of them. 

   “Same personnel has worked there for a lifetime,” Derek said looking up from his file. “Ron Massey has been superintendent for 30 years.”

   “He’s an alum, as is the majority of the staff there,” Strauss said, giving more detail as to why that was. “Lieutenant Tawes has been his second in command this whole time.”

   “These types of places have their own infrastructure,” Derek said. 

   “Yeah, if it ain’t broken, they ain’t gonna fix it,” Y/N said with a small chuckle evident in her voice.

   “That’s probably why they banned modern technology,” Emily added on to the profile of the academy.   

   “They didn’t need it back then, they don’t need it now,” JJ agreed.

   “Aggressive Motto-” Rossi began. “Vivere est vincere,” he read. 

   “To live is to conquer,” Y/N said as she recognized the phrase. “They raise soldiers, suicide isn’t a part of that mantra.” 

   “Bailey Shelton was only 13-years-old, he was one of the youngest students there,” Spencer said. 

   At this, Y/N wondered into her thoughts again. How could someone so young want to take their life? She thought to herself. Her mind got lost in her own theories while the rest of the team discussed. 

-------

   The team arrived at the academy and all filed out of the SUVs. Spencer and Y/N going to the back to help Garcia with all the equipment that she had to bring with her. 

     “Colonel Massey, Erin Strauss,” Strauss introduced herself to the Colonel. “This is the team I spoke with you about,” she spoke, gesturing to her side. 

   “Agent Hotchner,” Hotch said, shaking the man’s hand. “This is Agent Morgan, Agent Jareau,” He said while the two shook his hand. “Dr. Spencer Reid, Agent Y/L/N, and Penelope Garcia,” the three by the car gave a hand gesture signaling they acknowledged the introduction. 

    Y/N looked at the Colonel for a second, glancing over his posture and facial expression. She got that gut feeling again, but she passed this one off as a wave of hunger.  

     The four with the Colonel began discussing what they were going to do, while the three by the car began unloading. 

  “Why does there have to be so much stuff?” Y/N said as she pulled another tub out of the back of the trunk. Spencer laughed as he watched her struggle slightly pulling out the tub. 

   “Because the Old-timer over there doesn’t allow new technology, we have to bring a whole database in,” Penelope said in a mumble so only the three of them could hear. The two others laughed at her statement while they pulled the last of the things out of the trunk. 

    “Any leads on Josh?” Derek asked as they began to walk towards the three by the car.

   “In that terrain,” the Colonel began. “He’s only capable of moving a mile an hour.” 

   “Puts him in a 60-mile radius,” Spencer said as he pulled a bag from the trunk. “That’s 3,600 square miles to cover.” 

   “Tawes knows those woods better than anybody,” The Colonel said. 

   “We’ve got two agents meeting and we’ll start the investigation here,” Hotch said, turning towards the colonel.  

    “Where’s the place with the most outlets?” Garcia asked, hopeful for a good answer.

    “Best bet is in the library,” responded the Colonel. 

   “Thank you,” Garcia responded. Her, Y/N, and Spencer grabbed the bags and some cadets grabbed the tubs and led them to the library. 

   “Still feeling a little off?” Spencer asked Y/N as they walked towards the library. 

   “Hm- oh yea, kind of,” She responded looking over at him. “I’m not really sure what it is, I think I might just be tired, and this case it just-” she paused, giving a slight shutter. “I don’t know, it just doesn’t sit right with me.” 

   “What do you mean?” Spencer asked eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her. 

   “I think this goes way deeper than a pact-acted mass suicide,” she explained. 

--------

   “Come on, baby,” Penelope said, encouraging the machine in front of her. “Come on!” 

   “I don’t think calling a machine ‘baby’ will help,” Y/N laughed as she plugged in some wires to a receiver.

   “Boo,” Spencer said tapping on a globe in the library. Penelope and Y/N jumped as they turned to look at where the noise came from. 

   “Jeez, you scared me,” Penelope said turning towards him, Y/N doing the same. 

   “Yeah, no kidding.” Y/N said. “I thought he was a ghost.” She lightly laughed before turning back to what she was doing. 

   “You know, older buildings like this emit a low enough frequency that you can’t consciously hear. Because the sensory overload can’t be explained, it wreaks havoc with your emotions. Indicating fear, panic, and dread,” Spencer said. 

   “Hence the feeling of being haunted,” Y/N said as she came to the realization of what his lesson was leading too. He pointed at her nodding with a small smile. 

   “What about the visions?” Penelope asked in a concerning tone. 

   “Your eyes overcompensate for what your ears are missing,” Spencer explained. “That said, I do know a 3-year-old boy who once met a friendly apparition named Leverett Saltonstall.”  

   Y/N giggled at the last statement made by Spencer and also the fact of Penelope’s eyes lighting up. 

   “He was nice?” She asked in a child-like voice.

   “Very nice,” Spencer answered, making Y/N smile while she looked down at the map he just laid out. “You’d think the laundry room would be closer to the dorms,” Spencer said as he looked at the map along with Y/N.

   “It’s not in the basement?” Penelope asked as she typed on her laptop. 

   “It’s on the opposite side of campus,” Y/N said as she used her finger to follow a road. Her hand ever so slightly brushed against Spencer's. A blush formed on both of their faces as they retracted their hands quickly from the map. 

   Spencer cleared his throat, “That’s so strange.” 

   “Yeah,” Y/N said in agreement hoping to God that the moment wouldn’t create an awkward tension.  

   The small moment, they both hoped, went unnoticed to the woman beside them.

 But oh no it didn’t. 

She smiled excitedly at the thought of the two having feelings for each other and how cute they would be together. 

   “Leaves of three, let them be,” Rossi’s voice was heard as he and Emily walked into the room. Emily scratching her arm vigorously. The three turned their heads to look and grimaced at the thought of poison ivy.

   “Oh man, poison ivy,” Y/N said hissing after her words in sorrow for her friend. 

   “Alcohol swabs, stat!” Penelope said standing up from her chair to care for Emily’s needs.

    “Thank you,” Emily said to Penelope. “You know, if I’ve got it, so do you,” she said looking at Rossi. 

   “I’m Italian, it knows better.” He stated matter-of-factly. The three laughed at his statement. “Where’s Massey?” 

   “He’s meeting with the victims’ families,” Y/N said as she sat criss-cross applesauce in her chair.

   “They’re arriving now,” added Hotch as he walked into the room. “JJ, how are Josh’s parents?” 

   Y/N and Spencer turned their heads to see that JJ had entered the room from the opposite door, along with the rest of the team.

   “Upset,” She said. “They sent him here to keep him away from trouble.” 

   “Tawes made it seem like these guys are the only family they have,” Emily said, placing a cotton pad drenched in rubbing alcohol on her arm.  

   “You make it sound like a cult,” Strauss questioned. 

   “Uh, It kind of is,” Y/N said as she looked around at the rest of the team. Rossi nodding his head in agreement looking at Y/N.    

   “This is a well-respected institution,” Strauss responded strongly.  

   “They’re not on trial,” Rossi retorted.  

   “The integral part of this investigation is going to be understanding what these victims lived every day,” Hotch explained. 

   “And with who,” Y/N added. 

   “Bailey Shelton killed himself in Josh Redding’s room,” Derek said, adding to Y/N’s statement. 

   “Was Josh in the room that night?” Y/n asked looking at Derek.  

   “According to the records,” Derek confirmed. 

   “I will dig for dirt,” Penelope said typing away on her computer. Hotch then asked Rossi if he and Emily found anything in the woods.

   “Josh’s tent was secluded. His things were left behind, he just took off.”

   “Massey did say he didn’t get any respect from Josh,” Hotch said. 

   “His parents even said he was hard to control,” JJ added. 

   “His course load indicates increased isolation,” Spencer said looking down at the file in his hand. Y/N leaned over to look at the file he was holding. Spencer noticed this and turned it towards her so she could read it also.  

   “Isolated, smart, angry,” Emily listed off some of the traits they just picked up on. 

   “Sounds to me like it could be a budding psychopath,” Y/N said looking at Emily who nodded in agreement signaling that she was thinking the same thing.

     “What are you saying?” Strauss asked, ready to question what the two women were uncovering. “Josh Redding killed his classmates?”

    Everyone on the team looked at each other, all thinking the same thing now. 

  “Then he’s not missing,” Strauss continued. “He’s on the run.” 

   “And he has been for a week,” Derek added. 

   “One hell of a head start,” Rossi said. 

   “And he has all the skills he could ever need,” Y/n finished.  

---------

   As the sun rose and a new day began and the team all gathered at the academy, the feeling filled Y/N’s stomach again. The feeling spread all over this time, and she didn’t know what it was. She came to a conclusion last night that it was probably about this case because most of the time when she didn’t think about it she felt fine. She needed to talk to someone about, her feelings were usually right and she wouldn’t tell anyone if she thought they were wrong. So as she walked into the library and set her bag down next to Penelope, grabbed her notebook out, and began writing her thoughts. 

   “What are you doing?” Penelope asked her as she looked over at the young woman writing vigorously in the small book. 

   “Trying to know why I have a bad gut feeling,” Y/N explained as she continued to write down her thoughts. 

   “Does this usually help you?” Penelope asked her as she turned back to her computer to type more. 

   “It helped me in school when I knew how to do something but I couldn’t explain to the teacher how I knew how to do it or why.” She remembered back to the times in high school and college when she would grab out her notebook and write so fast that the teacher didn’t even have time to react. 

   “Hey so yesterday,” Penelope said turning away from her computer towards Y/N. “I saw you and boy genius had some sparks fly.”

   Y/N blushed, stopping her writing in her notebook but not looking up. Damn it, I thought she didn’t notice, she thought to herself. 

   “Oh my gosh, you are so crushing on him!” She exclaimed softly seeing the blush on Y/N’s face. 

   “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said quickly as she continued to write.

   “Uh-huh, okay, keep your secret lover,” she said, giving her a silly name. The two went back to what they were doing and keeping quite. Y/N hoping she could talk about her feelings to her later at a better time. Soon Spencer, JJ, Rossi, and Emily walked into the room, breakfast in their hands. Giving everyone their food and all sitting down they began to discuss more into the theory that Josh did it. 

       “Okay, so how did he do it?” Emily asked. “How did Josh control five-strong kids?” 

   “I mean he did supervise the laundry room,” Y/N said as she looked down at her notebook seeing the notes she took about who was who and what they did. “That could explain how the sheets got out.”

   “Yeah, so what does ���we’re sorry’ mean,” JJ asked, pulling the photo of the branch out of the file. “If it wasn’t for suicide? What if Josh wanted them to apologize for something.” 

    “For their sins?” Emily said, adding the thought of religion. “There's no record of bad behavior, but all these guys were alpha males.” 

   “They were all upperclassmen, might’ve even bullied Bailey,” Y/N added her thought before taking a sip of her coffee. 

   “The message was carved under Tucker Calhoun’s tree for a reason,” said Rossi before taking a bit of his breakfast. 

   “Yeah, we need to know more about that kid,” Emily added. 

   “I agree, I feel like he has more to do with this then Massey is going to let on,” Y/N said, agreeing with Emily’s statement. She looked back down at her book, underlining the name Tucker. 

   “What are you looking at?” Penelope asked, looking at Spencer on the right side of her. Y/N looked up from her notebook to listen to what was going on. 

   “The M.E.’s report,” He said while looking at the report. “Bilateral fracture of the pars interarticularis of the C2 vertebra.”

   “Uh-huh, what’s that?” Penelope asked looking down at the report. 

   “Classic hangman's fracture,” he explained. “But only one of the five victims had it.” 

   “Which one?” Y/N asked him, having a feeling that she already knew the answer. 

   “Tucker Calhuan,” he responded looking at her. 

   “Jeez, who is this guy?” Penelope asked everyone, turned their heads to the pictures of the victims on the board. 

   “The others suffered rotational fractures, hanging was secondary,” Spencer said with slight curiosity in his voice. 

   “Staging the crime scene?” Y/N asked writing that down in her book before circling it.

   “Josh is more sophisticated than we thought,” Rossi added. 

    “And vindictive, he wanted Tucker to suffer,” Emily said. “The question is why.”

   Y/N looked down at her book and let out a sigh. 

   “What is it, kid?” Rossi asked Y/N from across the table. 

   She looked up, “I feel like there’s a piece missing, but I don’t know what.”  

---------- 

    “I think I figured out that piece you were talking about Y/N,” Rossi said walking into the Library. He and Emily went to talk to some cadets to get the 4-1-1 on Josh and Tucker. 

    “A point system,” Emily said. 

   Penelope began typing away on her computer to find all she can about this point system. 

   “Tucker Calhoun has the most points,” Penelope said going up to the board and pointing at him. 

   Y/N and Spencer sat beside each other turned towards the board. 

   “Who approves them?” Spencer asked. 

   “Massey,” Penelope responded quickly. 

   “Maybe Tucker was his little pet,” Y/N said. “Leader of Everything.”

   “That comes with an attitude, steamroller types like that, don’t let anybody get in their way,” Emily added. 

    “Nothing was nice about that kid,” Rossi said. “Sounds like he strong-armed everybody.”

   “Well, then the points are for bad behavior,” Penelope began. “Only they are not calling it that.”

    “We should look at the points of everyone who died in those woods, my guess is they were all bullies,” Y/N said standing up and going towards the chart on the board. 

   “Except for Josh,” Spencer said.

----------

    Y/N walked into the library, three coffee in her hand, two for Spencer and Penelope. 

“The school does have a cell phone,” Y/N heard Penelope say as she walked into the room. 

   “No way,” Y/N said as she handed the coffees to her friends before she sat down. “I knew Massey wasn’t telling us everything.”

    “Only it’s not listed under Massey,” Penelope continued. “The account was opened by...Tawes.” 

   “If Massey’s lying about something as simple as a cell phone, what else is he hiding?” Spencer questioned. 

   “That’s what I’ve been saying,” Y/N said pulling out her notebook and pen. “From the day we got here I have had this feeling, I didn’t know what it was, but now I think I do,” she looked at the two beside her before she continued. “I think Massey is a bigger part of this then he’s letting on.”

   The three were soon joined by JJ, and then Rossi and Emily. 

  “Okay, I need to students who were having trouble with authority,” JJ said to Penelope who began typing on her computer. 

   “Okay, I can do that, but I got to tell you, they post rewards, faster than they do demerits,” Penelope explained as she types on her computer.  

   “Look for kids with issues before they came here,” JJ continued. 

   Y/N looked over to Emily and Rossi who just walked in with some things that she was assuming were left by Josh at the new victim site. 

   “Did any of them have a class with Bailey?” JJ asked, pulling Y/N away from what she was looking at and back to what was going on in front of her. 

   “No but each of the plebes had laundry duty,” Penelope said looking at the schedule. “Does that help?”

   “Their dorm is the farthest point from the laundry room, why are they so isolated?” Spencer asked.

   “M.E. said bailey had blisters and burns, fingertips were raw, his trachea had internal scarring,” Y/N said picking up the report sitting on the table.

   “That’s awful,” Penelope said. 

     “Guys that could be damage done in an industrial-sized dryer,” Spencer said turning to look at Y/N. 

      “Oh my god,” Penelope said in shock. 

   “That’s how Massey’s breaking these boys,” JJ said shock and sadness written on her face. 

    “No, in all the materials it says they don’t believe in corporal punishment,” Penelope said with a sad tone. 

    “Bailey wrote about how all those boys bullied him,” Rossi said holding up Bailey’s journal. 

   “His father must have read it and wants revenge,” Spencer said.

    “Does it mention Josh?” Y/N asked looking at Rossi. 

   “Not at all,” he replied. 

   “Then why would Chris Shelton go after him?” Y/N asked looking to JJ on her right then Spencer on her left.

   “What if Massey lied to Chris Shelton?” Emily questioned. 

   “And set Josh up,” Rossi added. 

    “And he convinced Shelton that Josh was responsible for Bailey’s suicide,” Y/N added, her theory about Massey being apart coming into play.  

   “Still doesn’t explain how he found the secluded woods,” JJ said. 

   “Wait, where’s Mr. Shelton’s phone?” Spencer asked, looking at Emily who was holding the items that were found. 

   “It’s right here,” Emily replied pulling the phone out. “It’s got a couple of contacts on it, Somerville Academy being one of them.” 

   “Any unknowns?” Spencer asked.

   “Tawes does have a cell,” Y/N said looking at Emily. 

   “No way, Lieutenant no tech?” She said with humor. “There’s one, it’s a text...looks like-uh- some phone numbers.” 

   “What are they?” Spencer asked, prompting Emily to reply with a string of numbers. 

   “Those aren’t phone numbers,” Spencer said standing us walking over towards the map of the woods. “That’s latitude and longitude.”

   “Right where those boys were camping,” Rossi said realizing where this was probably going. 

  The team soon realized that the reason for this whole happening was because when Bailey died, Josh was planning to escape because that was who he was protecting from Massey’s abuse. Massey then sent Josh into the woods because he wanted Christ Shelton to take revenge on Josh because he convinced him it was his fault for the suicide. Josh fought back though which was not premeditated. The mass suicide was Shelton’s way of getting back at Massey, taking away who he thought of as his sons.

----------

 The team had discovered three possible places that Josh could be heading to find Chris Shelton’s truck. They split up Hotch, Derek, and Y/N in together, JJ and Spencer, and then Emily and Rossi. 

   Derek pulled up a little bit away from Tawes and Josh, seeing as the two were fighting and they wanted the element of surprise. Derek went around to the side of the woods, tackling Josh before he threw a large rock at Tawes. 

   “Don’t do it, Tawes,” Y/N spoke, her and Hotch standing side by side guns aimed at the man.

   He didn’t listen though, pulling a small pistol out of his bag. Hotch fired a shot at his leg before he could do anything that he would regret. They handled the two and brought them back to the academy and the next day, they were going to arrest Massey.  

   The team watched as Derek guided Massey down the stairs towards the car he would go in. Y/N sighed, a happy one this time as she saw Josh go over and salute Massey before he drove away. His parents stood by his side, mom hugging him and dad patting his shoulder. 

   “You okay?” Spencer asked Y/N as he leaned next to her on the black vehicle behind them.

   She turned her head to look at him, a small smile on her face, “Yeah, I think so, I’m just glad this is over. Hopefully, this feeling will go away after all this passes,” she explained to the man next to her. 

   “My offer still stands, if you need to talk, I’m here,” he said, nudging her arm slightly. She smiled nodding at him. 

   “Thank you,” she replied. 

   The team made it home later that day, going back into the office to finish up reports and such. Y/N walked up to her desk, head-turning to the side as she saw a small enveloped letter on her desk. She carefully picked it up looking at it then opening it.

  She pulled out the small card which read, Be wary of feelings within, they might be more than you think. Turning it over she looked at the back seeing an all to a familiar signature from her past, a silhouette of a bird. She put the card back into the envelope, ripping it up and throwing it in her trash can, hoping she won’t think about it again.