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mrpenguinpants · 4 years ago

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Genshin: University AU [V1]

I love modern au. Or any “everything is fine, no one died, it’s just a fever dream” au. Half of me is thinking, damn maybe I should answer this serious- LOL HAHA no. That’s not happening. Time to crack my knuckles and let my brainworms take over again.

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. I want to switch up my characters from the last brainworm post but I included Kaeya and Diluc.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to twistedwishes. Hey! I’ve been seeing you pop up a lot lately and thanks for the support 💕💕 I hope things are going better for you and you’re doing alright^^ I feel kinda bad for making appreciation posts on crack fics but hopefully this is somewhat funny haha.

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Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: Roommate [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@mikeysbike @hanniejji@unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @dandelily @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife @dokidokisama @simpygrimoire @minakohasmanyhusbandos @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki

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Diluc

Absolute pretty boy who has braincells, but only if Kaeya is not there. In his mind, Kaeya’s presence makes his room loose 40% of their common sense. He can’t prove it just yet but he’s working on it. He majors in accounting but also has a minor in marketing, logistics’ management, fia- he majors everything business related. He’s going to become the next Elon Musk through smarts or by getting the competition drunk. There can be no contest if he’s the only candidate. He’s actually a hard working guy that overworks and stresses way too much. You have daily “Diluc recharge” evenings where he just hangs onto you while you go through your day.

“Don’t fucking talk to me until I’ve had my coffee,” except there is no coffee - he drinks grape juice out of juice boxes and his only energy boost is when he meets up with you - and that’s his constant mood. So he usually only hangs around you and Jean, since she has childhood friend status and is actually an angel. By default, Lisa is added and Diluc doesn’t mind her but if he see’s Kaeya, it’s full on war paint mode. If he's not busy with work or studies, he's usually with you either in your dorm or his apartment.

He has a fanclub and he seriously hates it and tries to do everything in his power to get Ningguang to take it down. Shouldn’t this be against his rights? But she refuses for whatever reason and makes a whole speech about free will. No matter what he does, someone manages to take a picture and it get’s printed in the university’s newspaper. The only bonding time he has with Kaeya is every Monday, where they collect and burn all the universities newspapers before anyone can get their hands on it. You always bring marshmallows to make smores during their arson activities.

“When I graduate I’m going to burn this school down to the ground. That’s not a threat it’s a promise.”

Ningguang

Is secretly the leader of the Diluc fanclub - not that she likes Diluc, she’s in a questionable platonic poly marriage with you and Beidou - but it was the easiest way to gain funds for the student council. Which she is the president of, so rip Diluc the fanclub stays. Ruthless business woman I tell you. But she can run in heels so her danger factor rises by at least 20%.

Majors in social sciences and law but more specifically the political science & government. She saw the Imperial State Crown that the Queen of England wears and says yes, that’s mine now. If she’s not with Beidou and you planning on “how to infiltrate the state government just for lols”, then she’s with Keqing, Ganyu, and Zhongli discussing student council things. Should they or should they not tell the student body that they can see everyone’s search results? Sit back and relax as the school goes into chaos.

She’s probably the scariest person on campus No, she is the scariest person on campus. She’s the scariest person on campus. But secretly she’s popping 20 aspirins just to make it through a night. She has the digestive system of steel. She still holds the title of "seriously do not try and beat her in a drinking game it's never going to happen" and that's her proudest achievement in life but sadly she can’t put it on her resume. Kaeya is still trying to beat her out of spite but so far it hasn't been working. You’re seriously concerned for her when she get’s challenged but Beidou gives you a way-to-hard slap on the back and cheers her on. If Ninngguang somehow get’s alcohol poisonings she’ll somehow find away to make a profit out of it.

"I'll let him die, I'll get the insurance money."

Kaeya

One day he chugged too much mouth wash, passed out, and somehow woke up in university majoring in law. His idea is that if he is apart of the law, he can therefore stand above it. To be fair, his only goal in life is to say “I am the manager” and he can go live the rest of his life in bliss or as a hermit. He’s secret best friends with you but wouldn't be caught dead beside you. He will stab a bitch if you ever get hurt but will still trip you on the way home. Seriously, you have no idea why people find him attractive. Your guess is it’s the eye patch or the clap of his ass cheeks that keeps alerting everyone.

He’s apart of the newspaper club and if anyone asks: No, he has no idea who keeps taking all the newspapers and burns them in the back of the campus. Originally, he joined because he was nosy and needed to join some type of club for his resume. He sometimes feels bad for his junior assistant Amber because he keeps tricking her and says that Diluc is secretly a demon that is trying to steal all the jobs and is apart of the lizard government hell bent on eradicating the human race. He even brought out a whiteboard for this joke, he’s dedicated to his job ok?

The type of guy to try and be humble and say his work is “okay” but will choke a bitch if anyone agrees. He tends to leave everything last minute and says that it’s his drug since actual drugs could land you one year in prison and a maximum penalty of $2,000. You have to awkwardly hold in your concerned mother head shake when you see him speed running his assignment literally right when the professor is walking around to check if students finished.

“I was taught how to lead not to read.”

Mona

Broke wallet #2. Zhongli is broke wallet #1 but Childe simps for him so is he really a broke wallet at this point? In this essay, I Mona Megistus, will explain why I have the rights to the title “Broke Wallet #1″...

Believes that astrology should be an actual career path but refuses to take astronomy as her major. I can read the stars not a textbook that tells me how to calculate the mass of the sun divided by the fucks I give. Instead she went into Philosophy and cries to Albedo, who is an actual prodigy genius- sir lend some braincells to everyone else please?, that her professor keep turning her paper down because “star reading” is not an academic source.

Fischl wants her to join the occult club because, surprisingly, Mona is very good at telling people’s fates through her crayon sketch ouija board. She thinks first year Fischl is cute but is put off by the cosplay roleplay that she has going on. She would join except that stupid hat wearing gremlin in her lit class would make fun of her if he found out.

You gave her half your lunch one day and bought her a doughnut "because she seemed upset" and "out of the goodness of your heart" whatever the hell that means. She thinks you pensioned it but once that thought comes she takes a bite. Poison from a doughnut is not the worst way to go out, classes are hard enough. She’s waiting for the lord to strike her down anyways.

“Its not about passing, its about doing better than everyone else.”

Venti

Slept through most of highschool and people question how he got into university. He’s a music major (wow how fucking original is that), and if anyone asks him to serenade someone or just do anything, he’ll do it for the right price. Or if you buy him alcohol because he still keeps getting ID checked. He’s banking on Kaeya actually becoming a lawyer or being on good terms with Diluc so he can finally stop being arrested for looking like a toddler.

Takes one step into classes and quickly nopes out and goes back to bed. Professors have no idea how he hasn't dropped out or failed. He just has some god given talent. He does whine at you to pretty pretty please with a cherry on top tutor him because you're such an angel and would never leave your poor but awesome best friend hanging right? He needs to get this essay down but how he is suppose to explain how the number 10 is symbolic and connects to the universe or the meaning of life. Do you think he can just say it’s apart of his culture and make up some random myth to pretend it looks like he knows what he’s doing?

He’s honestly going with the flow and put his brain on the back burner all of highschool and only now realizes wait, I actually have to use my brain?

He’s been banned from most club chats since Venti has the no chill card. Someone says “lol I look ugly today.” and he’ll respond "yup, you look like a cow." and he get’s banned. Zhongli keeps a speed run timer on his phone just to document these occasions.

"Sad spelled backwards is das and das how it be sometimes."

Childe

An actual dumbass that somehow does well. He eats sandwiches with the crust off, this heathen. Surprisingly he’s studying to become a physical therapist but most of his experience has come from breaking his own bones. You’re scared how he's going to be if he actually becomes a therapist. If he'll make bets with his patients or try to one up whatever crazy injury they get into. Everything is a challenge to him that sometimes the best way to deal with Childe is to knock him out.

This man really knows the way to a Zhongli’s woman's heart. Through micro transactions. Mona saw him accidently drop $20 and just shrugged and walked off. She has never been both spiritually and physically offended in her life. She did take the $20 though. As much as you hate leeching on Chile when he’s basically a walking wallet that probably uses bills as tissue paper, you can’t help but give him puppy eyes while planning on how to get into his will. If he even plans on having one, he might honestly write “whoever wins in a gladiator style duel in my funeral’s tournament, they will get my fortune.”.

Any sport the university offers Childe is probably in it. Which is how he met Zhongli, challenged him to a fight, proceeded to have his ass handed to him, got a backhanded compliment, and screamed to you he was in love and how he found his soulmate. He's secretly very sappy and has cried and watched every Disney and Pixar movie at least 28 times.

"IM NOT TOO SPICY! I’M A TINY BIT ABOVE MILD IF ANYTHING!”

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God if it isn’t Scaramouche, it’s Childe that ruins the aesthetic. This is why I hate you. Why do you people enable me like this, it isn’t even good. This is pretty much a @ yourself moment and I vibe hard with Venti. This entire post was just to make a joke about the clap of Kaeya’s ass cheeks alerting the guards.

This week might slow down since I have classes and assignments. My reply’s are gonna be late too, sorry;; (oh and thank you to everyone that was so supportive and nice when I mentioned it. All of you. Beautiful 💕💕 )

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

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Anything for You

So, I got this idea in my head and I wrote it. This is not the first thing I’ve written, but the first that I finished. And the first that I’m posting. Sorry if it sucks. I hope someone out there likes it. Italics indicate past memories.

Summary: This takes place after Maeve. It sort of starts a month before Spencer goes back to work but then skips a year. Reader is the newest member of the BAU. Spencer lashes out when she tries to help him, but he doesn’t realize how much she can relate to his trauma.

warnings: angst but also a little fluff, typical CM violence (kidnapping, torture, death etc.), dark thoughts about dying, I think that’s it

Word Count: 6218

It is moments like this that make you rethink every decision that lead you here. You are on the jet on the way back to Quantico after a particularly rough case. The team managed to save the most recent victim, but only to discover three more hidden on the unsubs property. And to make it worse, they were children. Everyone on the team keeps shooting you concerned glances, worried that you might break. It’s only fair. You are still the newbie.

You started at the BAU one month ago to the day. Your previous position was a desk job, but you were ready to get back into field after two years of endless paperwork. Not that the entire team knows you had been in the field before. Only Hotch knows. You don’t like to talk about it. You had gone so far as to cut Hotch off to prevent him from bringing it up on your first day.

You are counting down the floors with each beep as the elevator rises to bring you to the floor that houses the Behavioral Analysis Unit. To say you aren’t nervous would be a lie, but that comes with the territory of starting a new job. Especially a job with one of the most elite units of the FBI. It’s hard not to be intimidated.

The elevator doors slide open, revealing the all too familiar glass doors that lead to the BAU. When you were trying to decide if switching career paths was the right decision, you found yourself staring at these doors far more than you’d care to admit.

You walk through the doors, immediately heading for Hotch’s office. He told you to meet him there first thing this morning. You knock on the open door to draw his attention.

“Agent L/N, please come in.” He looks up from the file he has open on his desk.

“Agent Hotchner, I would just like to thank you again for the position.” You have to stop yourself before you ramble on about how grateful you are for his taking a chance on you.

“Please, call me Hotch. You’re new ID was just dropped off.” He says, handing you the plastic card to put in your credentials. You take a moment to admire the way your name looks just above the words “Behavioral Analysis Unit” before sliding it into the wallet.

“I wish we had time for a more thorough welcoming, but we just got a case. I’ll introduce you to the team in the conference room.” He rises from his desk, you following behind him to a room already full of profilers. Of course, you already know of them all, but the introductions are nice nonetheless.

“L/N, these are SSAs Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, and Jennifer Jureau and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.” You shake hands with each member of the team as there name is called. “Team, this is SSA Y/N L/N. She transferred from violent crimes-” You know he is going to bring up your previous field work, so you cut him off.

“It’s an honor to meet you all.” You smiled at Hotch, trying your best to get him to move on. Thankfully, you can see in his eye that he understands why you don’t want to relieve your past field experience.

“Actually, that’s not all. Dr. Reid is on leave at the moment, but you’ll meet him when he returns.” You nod, taking a seat next to Derek. “Garcia, you can start now.”

The memory fades and you try to ignore the concerned glances from everyone on the jet. Yes, you were the one to find the children in the back shed, but you have techniques to handle this. You’ve always been good at compartmentalizing. It comes with the territory of undercover work.

You are more concerned with the wellbeing of one Dr. Reid. This is the first case you’ve worked with him, but it still feels like something’s off. Granted, you don’t know why he was on leave or how long it lasted.

After everyone else is asleep, barring Hotch who is too focused on his reports to pay you any attention, you slide down into the seat across from Spencer. He doesn’t even glance up from his book.

“Dr. Reid?” You can tell he’s stopped reading at the sound of your voice, but it takes him a moment to actually look up at you. When he does, you can see the sadness in his eyes.

“L/N. Are you okay?” Of course he would ask you that. You’ve known him for all of 72 hours, but he’s still concerned about you’re wellbeing. The way your heart flutters at the sentiment catches you off guard.

“Oh, um, I’m fine. I actually wanted to check on you.” He looks startled at that, but you just push forward. “I know we only just met, and I have no idea what you’re going through, but I just thought maybe I could help.” You can see the instant you finished talking that it was a mistake. He is clearly not ready to talk about his demons, especially with a near stranger.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ “No, you shouldn’t have.” His words are defensive more than anything. The words of someone who just went through unbelievable pain “You couldn’t possibly help me. Unless, of course, you’ve been kidnapped, tortured, and drugged, shot multiple times, and witnessed the love of your life being murdered in front of you just to name a few. I’m sure you have plenty of experience with that given your work in violent crimes.” The sarcasm is obvious, with violent crimes being a desk job. He mistakes the tears that spring to your eyes as pity rather than understanding. He scoffs, going back to his book while you wander back to your previous seat, trying to control your emotions.

Spencer doesn’t know about your time undercover. He doesn’t know you experienced all of those things. He doesn’t know about the scars that line your torso or the more prevalent scars on your heart. You try not to take it personally. You’ve had years to deal with your trauma. His is clearly newer. You tell yourself over and over that he’s not angry with you, but with the world. You just happened to be the first available outlet.

When the others wake up, they assume your red eyes are due to the case. That you are finally breaking down after a month on the job. They offer words of encouragement and promises to be there if you need to talk. They stress how you aren’t alone. They all know how you feel. You simply nod, gathering your things before heading home. You can’t help but think there is one of them who knows exactly what is going through your head. It’s the first time you’ve cried over Cameron in three months, the last time being the anniversary of his death.

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The next year at the BAU flies by. You actually feel like part of the family, knowing you could talk to any member of the team when you need a friend. Well, almost any member of the team. You and Spencer didn’t click the way everyone thought you would. Ever since the conversation on the plane, you hold back when you’re with him. It’s not that you two avoid each other. You’re just more like coworkers than family. You converse when you need to, but don’t seek each other out.

Nobody understands why. Hotch especially thought the two of you would become close. You can see why he would think so. From your brief encounters with Spencer, you can tell he’s been through hell. Hotch was probably hopeful the two of you might bond over shared trauma, act as an anchor for each other to know you aren’t alone. Of course that required you to share your trauma with the team, which definitely has not happened.

It’s not that you don’t trust them. It’s just that the moment hasn’t provided itself yet. First of all, you can’t just casually bring up being kidnapped and tortured for government secrets with your fiancé who was then murdered in front of you. Second of all, something in you says it would crush Spencer. You can tell he clearly still feels bad about what he said to you that day.

You two hadn’t talked about it. It was a year later, and you still hadn’t talked about it. You would think he forgot, but he does have a rather prolific memory. Everything was fine though. Mostly. He still seemed nervous around you. Or maybe you were projecting. There is something about Dr. Reid…

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” You were honestly surprised to hear Spencer’s voice saying those six words. Everyone else had already gone home, even Hotch. You just wanted to finish one more file.

“Of course, what’s up?” You try desperately to sound casual, to pretend like you weren’t just thinking about him. Despite not talking to Spencer all that often, you still have a massive amount of respect for him. Watching him work is incredible. You would expect most people with his intelligence to come off as cocky, but he is somehow still so humble.

“I just wanted to apologize. For what I said on the jet. I was in a bad place, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have said those things, you were just trying to help me, and I threw it back in your face. Also, I’m sorry it took me so long to actually apologize. I just felt so awful, I didn’t know how to bring it up and the longer I waited the more nervous I became and” “Spencer,” he looked startled at the sound of his name. Granted, you normally call him Dr. Reid or Reid when you’re feeling more casual, but still. It’s his name, why is he so surprised you’re using it? “You didn’t do anything wrong. Trust me. You were dealing with an amount of grief nobody should have to go through. I shouldn’t have tried to step in without knowing more about the situation. I’m sorry.” This is your chance. Tell him what happened to you. Come clean about it all.

He just looks so… relieved. As if you had lifted a weight off his shoulder just by telling him you understood he didn’t mean it. Seeing the hope in his eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to put any of that weight back on him. He had just freed himself, he doesn’t need your problems weighing him back down.

You can tell he still feels bad, but maybe now the two of you can try to move on. Maybe you’ll actually become friends. Telling him that you have indeed been through all of those things would just bring all that guilt back. For some reason, there is nothing you would rather do than protect Spencer Reid from pain.

So, you’ve resigned yourself to never telling anyone unless you absolutely had to. You convinced yourself it was a secret you could take to the grave. Nobody needed to know.

Until one day, they do. And that day happens to be tomorrow.

“Hello, crime fighters. This one is a doozey.” Penelope walked into the round table room and immediately jumped into the case. “Three heterosexual couples in Plano, Texas have been killed. The details are on your tablets. Be warned, it is not a pretty sight. All the victims were tortured. The men all died of blood loss. The women were drowned after multiple non fatal gunshot wounds and other various forms of torture.” You tensed ever so slightly at the description of the crimes. Hotch shot you a concerned glance, but you waved him off with a slight shake of your head. You zoned out for the rest of Garcia’s description, deciding instead to focus on every detail you could learn from the case files on your tablet.

“Wheels up in 20.” Hotch’s voice drew you from your focus on the files. “Y/N?” You looked at him from your seat at the table, realizing everyone else had already left. “If this is too much for you, everyone would understand.” You stand, plastering the fakest smile Hotch has ever seen on your face.

“I appreciate the concern, but there is a job to do. And I intend to do it.” There is no malice behind your words. Only a fierce determination to catch this unsub before he can hurt anyone else.

“Alright, but Y/N, please. Let me know if you need to talk about it. The whole team is here for you.” You features soften into a genuine smile before you respond.

“Thank you, Hotch.” And with that, you exit the room. You grab your go bag, meeting the other agents by the elevator.

The flight to Texas is long enough that the team’s discussion doesn’t prevent everyone from catching up on sleep. While everyone else is resting, preparing to start up again on the ground with fresh eyes, you are pouring over every detail again and again. You just need to know if it’s the same people. The same people who killed your fiancé. The same people who tortured you.

It was a day like any other. You had just gotten to the bar you were working at as a cover. Cameron was working security, you as a bartender. The mission was supposed to be simple.

There was a domestic terrorist cell operating just outside of Plano in Addison, TX. The leader was believed to own the very bar you had gotten a job in. You were supposed to gather intelligence, and report back. You weren’t supposed to engage with the terrorist cell. It was a simple mission.

That day, the day you could never forget, started exactly how you expected it to. The leader was supposed to be meeting with his right hand. You were supposed to learn who or what they were planning to target. You still can’t pinpoint the moment you knew something was wrong.

Everything was normal when you clocked in. Everything was normal when you served you first few customers. Everything as normal when you walked up to the table hosting the meeting and asked if you could get them anything. Everything was normal until it wasn’t.

You remember waking up in a warehouse. Cameron was tied to a chair across from you. He was injured, bleeding from a cut in his side. It didn’t look that bad, but there was so much blood. How could such a small cut produce so much blood?

You had a million questions, but couldn’t form the words to ask them. You’re mouth felt like it was full of cotton. Cameron looked at you as if he knew something you didn’t. You suppose he did, given that he was awake before you. But that’s not what concerned you the most. No, it was the look of pure terror in his eyes. Pure terror, mixed with… resignation? That doesn’t make sense. Why would he be giving up?

Finally gathering enough strength to speak, you mumble “What happened?”

“Y/N… they know who we are. I don’t know how they figured it out, but they did. They are going to hurt me to get to you. You can’t let them, okay? Stay strong. Everything will be fine.” His words are rushed. You have a hard time following them, as if the words drift into the air, only to enter your head in a different order.

Before you have a chance to ask any more questions, you hear a door swing open behind you. You can hear the footsteps, but can’t turn around enough to see who they belong to.

“Do it.” You know that voice. You know you know it, but you can’t place it.

A man appears from your left. He stands in front of you, a mask covering his face so you can only see his eyes. “Let’s have some fun.” You’re ready for him to hit you. Or cut you. Or hurt you in any way. What you’re not ready for is him pulling a knife only to walk over to Cameron.

“No” The word is barely there. You aren’t even sure you said it out loud.

“Y/N, don’t tell them anything. Okay? I’ll be fine.” Cameron is looking at you with pleading eyes. You both know he’s lying.

“Your fiancé here is a liar.” The man sneers, dragging his knife down Cameron’s arm. “He will most certainly not be fine.” With that, the man plunges the knife into Cameron’s stomach. A gut wrenching scream leaves his mouth as the man moves the knife around inside his body. You try to control your reaction, but tears instantly spring to your eyes.

“Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll leave your man alone.” There’s no point. Cameron would never forgive you if you gave up information to the enemy. He’s always been a loyal soldier. Either way, deep down you know he won’t live much longer. He’s lost too much blood. You are going to have to watch the man you love die. He’s going to bleed out in front of you. And there’s nothing you can do about it.

You are shaken back to reality after the jet has landed. You slowly come to, realizing you must have fallen asleep while you were looking at the files. You can’t get the eyes out of your head now. The last time you had a nightmare was 6 months ago. Although, this was more of a memory than the usual nightmares you have.

“Y/N/N? You good?” Morgan is looking at you with concern that hasn’t been there since your first month on the job.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just groggy.” You try to laugh it off, walking past him and jumping into an SUV. You’re supposed to go with Hotch to the precinct to set up, so you can avoid the rest of the team’s questions for now.

You bury your head in the files again, trying to discern if anything feels off or if it is all too similar to be a coincidence.

“Just answer the question. This will all be over.” Cameron is dead. You are staring at his lifeless body as the man tries to torture you to get the answers he wants.

With all the strength you can muster up, you spit at him. “I didn’t break before and I won’t break now. Do what you want to me. You’ll never get your answers.” “Oh everyone’s got a breaking point. I’ll find yours.” With that, he storms passed you and out of the room.

You try to inventory the damage he’s done, but it’s hard because he typically drugs you when he leaves. You’re too disoriented to remember everything. You haven’t heard anything else from the first voice, but you finally realized it was the owner of the bar.

You are just about to drift back into unconsciousness when you hear a loud crash from somewhere in the building. You expect the masked man to come running back into the room, but instead you’re greeted with the face of the terrorist cell leader. He pulls you to your feet, mumbling about how this wasn’t part of the deal.

You don’t have the energy to protest as he pulls you down hallways and through doors. He bursts into a large open room. It smells like chlorine, but your eyes are too fuzzy to figure out why. The lights just got so much brighter, and you can’t see. You keep slipping on the floor. The third time, you fall to the ground. Everything is wet. He’s kicking you now. No, rolling you. It all feels distant. As if it’s not happening to you, but rather you are watching it happen to someone. Like a movie.

You hear the splash before you register the water surrounding you. You’re sinking. It’s actually quite warm. Like a comforting blanket tucking you into bed. The sounds of people yelling fade out as the water covers your head. You feel at peace as everything fades to black.

Suddenly, the peace is gone. You can hear voices. They sound loud, but still distant. Like you are swimming and someone is trying to talk to you from above the water. But the ground is hard now. There’s loud bangs too, but you can’t figure out what they are. There’s no pattern to them, but suddenly they stop. Maybe you’ll never know what they were, oh well. You just want to get back to the peaceful darkness.

Instead, you feel burning in your lungs and a pounding in your head. It feels like someone is punching you in the ribs. No. No. No. Where’s the peace?

All at once, the burning liquid is expelled from your lungs and your eyes fly open. You try to spin around, to see what’s happening, but everything hurts. Your lungs are trying to fill with air. Your eyes are trying to adjust to the lights. You head is begging everything to just stop making noise. Then, darkness. It’s not a peaceful transition this time. It’s sudden, as if someone turned everything off.

“Y/N?” The sound of your name draws you out of the memory again. You turn to see Hotch’s concerned expression. He’s parked the car outside of the station.

You take a few deep breaths before speaking, trying to prepare yourself for what you never wanted to have to do. “I have to tell them.” Hotch nods with a grim expression on his face.

“The team won’t judge you for keeping it a secret. We’ll all be there for you.” He tries to smile, but it’s more of a grimace. He’s too worried about you.

“I know. It’s not me I’m worried about.” For the first time since you met him, Aaron Hotchner looks confused. It’s actually kind of funny. Although, your laughing sounds more delirious than amused.

“Hotch, my first case with Spencer, do you remember it?” You shudder at the memory.

“Of course. It was hard on both of you.” Your smile feels weak, even to you.

“Well, I tried to check on him. I had only just met him, but he looked so sad. I wanted to take his pain away.” You can feel the tears coming, but you can’t figure out why. “He said unless I had been kidnapped, tortured, and drugged, shot multiple times, and witnessed the murder of the love of my life there was nothing I could do to help him.”

You can’t bring yourself to look at Hotch. His worrisome expression will just make you feel worse.

“You didn’t tell him.” The realization is evident in the lilt of his voice. Turning toward him, you try to explain, but he cuts you off. “He was listing trauma you’ve both experienced, and you didn’t tell him.”

“Of course not, he would’ve felt so guilty! He already feels so guilty and he has no idea. We talked it out, you know. We were actually becoming friends, although it was hard to see from an outside perspective.”

“You had me fooled. The two of you barely talk.” Hotch looks incredulous. You’ve never seen so many emotions on his face in one day, let alone one conversation.

“I know. It’s still new. Honestly, it happened yesterday.” Hotch actually chuckles at that. “I think he still feels bad that my first impression was him yelling at me. He’s going to feel so guilty, and I just wanted to keep that pain away from him. He doesn’t need my emotional baggage on top of his own.” You can’t read the expression on his face anymore. You can tell he’s thinking something, though he doesn’t intend to share.

“It’ll all work out in the end, Y/N. Reid is stronger than he looks. He’s been through a lot, but so have you. Let’s go catch this son of a bitch.” And the two of you exit the car as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

Your nerves build waiting for the rest of the team at the station. Spencer and Derek are last to arrive. You were hoping to have a few more minutes to figure out how to tell them all about the worst moments of your life, but alas the time has come.

Hotch clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. The conversations about theories die out as all eyes turn to him. “Y/N has a theory to share.”

That’s one way to put it. Before you can back out, you jump right in.

“The unsub was a for-hire torturer. I think he left the business and started killing for fun. A sadist. He enjoys the psychological torture of killing the one person you love more than anyone.” You can’t bring yourself to say another word. Spencer looks grief stricken. Everyone else is looking at you in confusion, except Hotch who is looking at you with sorrow. You can’t decide which is worse.

“What makes you say that?” Derek is the first one to speak. He clearly doesn’t understand why you came to that conclusion. Plus, he’s probably confused that Hotch had to introduce your theory rather than just include it in the brainstorming.

“Before I worked in violent crimes, I worked in the National Security division. I focused on domestic terrorism. We had a mission go wrong. It was supposed to be a simple, just gathering intel. Something went wrong and two agents were abducted.” You unconsciously decided to depersonalize the story. It’s something Hotch quickly caught on to, but what can he do about it? You just need to get the words out.

“They were a couple. Engaged. The man, he died from three precise wounds to the abdomen. He bled out while his fiancé was forced to watch.” You’re grateful when Emily interrupts.

“Did the woman drown?” The woman. You.

“No. Well, yes. She was dead for 3 minutes when they found her. The cell leader dumped her into a pool in the building she was being held in. They caught him trying to flee the building. When they questioned him about a partner, he said he hired someone to torture the couple to get information. He didn’t know where he went. I think that’s the unsub.”

Instantly, the team is theorizing. You stay quiet, listening. Where could he have hidden for this long? Were there more crimes in other states? Can Garcia look through unsolved double homicides that fit the signature? Before long, Derek asks the question you’ve been dreading.

“Can we interview the agent who survived?” You’re grateful that he’s looking at Hotch when he asks. Spencer, though, his eyes haven’t left you since you started speaking. He knows. You know he knows because you can see the weight bearing down on him. You tear your eyes away from him when Hotch clears his throat to get your attention.

“Y/N, can we interview the agent?” His tone is gentle. Hotch knows what he’s asking. Are you ready to tell them the truth? To share this pain with all of us?

“Yes. You can interview her.” You are visibly tense, but Morgan is just confused about the interaction. Why would Hotch need to ask you for permission? Why does he sound like someone just kicked his puppy?

“Great, when can she get here?” Of course, Morgan would ask the next logical question.

“She’s already here.” Your voice is quiet. He almost doesn’t hear you.

“What? Where?” He knows he’s missing something. It’ll only take him a few more seconds to put it together, but you save him the trouble.

“Right here.” You gesture to yourself, eyes flitting between Spencer’s and the ground. The rest of the team didn’t hear you. They were still working out theories as you, Morgan, Hotch, and Spencer converse in cryptic sentences and brief eye contact. Spencer is frozen in place. Hotch was stressed for you. It’s never easy to share past trauma, let alone when you feel like you don’t have a choice.

The realization hits Morgan so fast he almost falls to the ground. He rushes to you, pulling you into the tightest bear hug you have ever experienced. Morgan has become like an older brother to you. He always jokes about how he would beat up anyone who hurt you. You always joke right back about doing the same for him. He told you about Carl Buford a few months ago. It was also on a case. You would’ve told him everything then, but you didn’t want him to feel like you thought the two were comparable or that his trauma was somehow less important just because you’d been through some bad shit too.

His actions drew the attention of Rossi, JJ, and Emily though. You weren’t an overly emotional person usually. Undercover work made you good at compartmentalizing, so you never really sought out someone to comfort you. The sight of you in tears, wrapped in Morgan’s arms threw them for a loop. You normally waited until you got home to go through your routine to decompress. It was easier that way. But right now, the thought of even looking at Spencer was enough to bring tears to your eyes. You just couldn’t stop thinking about him. It felt weird, to be sharing such an intimate part of your life with everyone and still be thinking about him. You had moved on from it all though. You knew how to deal with it. Of course, you still love Cameron, but you talk about everything in therapy once a week so you won’t break down like this.

You see JJ look to Spencer for an explanation, but he’s too busy looking at you with more pain in his eyes than should be possible. He knows how it feels to see someone you love die right in front of you. He knows how it feels to try and move on from being drugged and tortured. He knows how it feels to be alone in it all. What he doesn’t know is how it feels to try and help someone through that grief only to have your own thrown back in your face. That’s what he did to you. Albeit, unintentionally but he did that. And it is so clear that he feels awful. You wish you could talk to him, but Morgan is pulling you into a different conference room for a cognitive interview that you somehow agreed to in your state of shock.

Hotch explains the situation to Rossi, Emily, and JJ. Spencer’s guilt only pushes further down on him when he hears it all again.

He stares at the room you’re in through the class doors of the conference room. He hasn’t moved in the ten minutes you’ve been gone. He expected JJ to talk to him first, but he was surprised to find Hotch instead.

“Y/N told me in the car that she was scared to share that story.” Hotch starts slow, trying to ease Spencer out of his own head.

“I would be too. It’s a painful memory to relive.” Spencer responds with a familiar tightness in his chest.

“She wasn’t worried about herself though.” Spencer’s head jerks up to meet Hotch’s stare.

“What do you mean? Who else would she be worried for?”

“You.” Hotch says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. You being worried about him when you share your darkest memories.

“Me?” Spencer practically falls out of his chair in an effort to sit up straighter. “Why would she worry about me?” Despite his genius IQ, he can’t fathom why you would worry about him in this scenario. If roles were reversed and he had to tell the story of watching Maeve die, he wouldn’t be worried about you. He slowly comes to the conclusion that he would be worried about you though. Now that he knows you’ve been through something similar, he would worry about you anytime it was brought up. Anytime anything remotely similar was brought up.

“She told me what you said to her on the jet after your first case together.” Spencer falls into himself at the memory, his guilt pushing his shoulders down. “She said you still feel guilty about it. That hearing the things she has been through would push all that guilt back to the surface. More than anything, she wanted to protect you from more pain.” Hotch seems to know more than he’s saying, but Spencer is too shocked to profile him.

“But, I, how would, but…” Spencer is muttering the beginning of every thought running through his head, but he can’t seem to form a complete sentence. “Why?”

“You’ll have to ask her.”

Between your cognitive interview and Garcia’s sleuthing, the team find the unsub rather quickly. You stay at the station when the team goes to catch him. You try to protest, but Hotch, Morgan, and Emily stare you down until you concede. Really though, it was the concerned look from Spencer that convinced you to sit down and wait. The case wraps up quickly after that. The masked man ended up being Kyle Beckett. A classic sadist.

It brings you more closure than you would have imagined to know he will be locked up for the rest of his life. You spent a lot of time in therapy trying to cope with the fact that he was never caught. And now, it’s over. You’re also extremely grateful you didn’t have to face him, although you would never admit that you were actually glad to stay behind. They can all tell though. They are profilers after all.

You can’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu at all the stares you’re getting on the jet. It’s as if time itself was rewound to a year ago. You feel like the newbie again. Getting ready to have a heart to heart with Spencer. You’d be blind not to notice the parallels of the two situations when Spencer slides into the seat next to you on the jet after everyone else falls asleep.

The silence is comforting at first, but quickly becomes unbearable.

“Hi” You have a sleepy smile on your face when you say it. You are unbelievably exhausted after everything that happened. Too tired to fully conceal the emotions you know you have been denying. You’re always happy when you talk to him, even if the occurrences are a bit far and few between compared to other members of the team. “You look sad.”

His mouth actually twitches upward at that statement, which you count as a win in your book. “You’ve been through hell on this case, and you’re still worried about me.” You can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s too good at hiding his thoughts inside that big beautiful brain.

“I’ve always worried about you. Ever since I met you. You just looked so sad and I wanted to make it stop.” You aren’t thinking before you speak anymore. Probably why Spencer suddenly looks so surprised.

“Is that why you didn’t want to tell me?” Now it’s your turn to look confused. How did he know that? “I may have talked to Hotch earlier…” It takes longer than you’d care to admit for you to understand what exactly Hotch told him. But still, you’re too tired to be bothered.

“I’m sorry if that was weird for you. It’s just, after we talked about it I thought maybe we could eventually be friends or something. I didn’t want you to be sad again. I know what it feels like to be sad. I also know what it feels like to be sad again when you realize someone else is sad for that same reason.” You must actually be exhausted because it feels like you’re talking in riddles. “Sorry, that doesn’t make sense. I just mean, I didn’t want you to feel bad about it again. I didn’t want you to feel more pain” You’ve started leaning toward him, about ready to pass out.

“You’re incredible. You truly are amazing. I don’t think a day will go by where I don’t feel awful for what I said to you, but maybe with enough time I can make it up to you.”

“I would like that.” You smile brightly as you look into his eyes. They seem sad still, but there is a brightness there that wasn’t there before.

Spencer doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he lets you lay down in his lap as you drift off, the soothing feeling of his hands in your hair lulling you to sleep.

You wake up as the jet touches down. The memories of your conversation with Spencer bring a smile to your face. He looks down smiling when you shift in his lap.

“Thank you” You’re not surprised he still feels like he needs to thank you.

“I would do anything for you Spencer Reid.” You get up to collect your belongings, turning back only when you realize he hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch.

“Spence, let’s go.” Spence. He likes the sound of that. Maybe, just maybe the two of you will be okay.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #spencer #spencer reid one shot #mgg

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years ago

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Damsels, Chapter Five: Work That Gameboy

By SisterSpooky1013 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Rated E / Read previous chapters here

Mulder arrives at work early, looking longingly at Scully’s car in the parking lot. Approaching it, he peers in the windows looking for…he isn’t sure what. Her car is, as usual, neat as a pin with no indication of where she went or why.

In his restlessness the night before, he’d thought a lot about why it bothers him so much not to know where she is or what she’s doing. If the roles were reversed, he would expect her to wait it out and trust him to take care of himself, but for some reason he’s struggling to do the same for her. He thought at first that it was her tendency to get hurt or need help, but by comparison he needs her help just as often as she needs his, so that doesn’t track. Then he thought maybe it’s that he doesn’t trust Skinner to do what’s in her best interest, but Skinner has shown a tendency to be protective of Scully on numerous occasions (and in fact Mulder strongly suspects his feelings for her go beyond the bounds of strict professionalism), so that isn’t entirely logical either. Skinner may have left him out to dry with the New Spartans, but he doesn’t believe the man would stoop low enough to treat Scully in the same manner.

In the end, he realized that it’s pretty simple; he’s just crazy about her. His protectiveness doesn’t have anything to do with how capable she is, or the situations other people might put her in, or even situations she might put herself in. He misses her, and cares so much about her that not even knowing where she is feels wrong. It feels like a piece of him is missing, and he’s not allowed to know where it is or when he’ll get it back.

After pretending to work for an hour, he sulks up to Skinner’s office and asks for a few minutes of his time. Skinner is immediately irritated, though Mulder doesn’t realize that it’s in response to him and not a preexisting condition. He stands in front of Skinner’s desk, looming over him.

“What do you want, Agent Mulder?” Skinner grumbles, not looking up from the document he’s reading.

“I’d like to know where Agent Scully is, sir.”

Skinner sighs heavily, dropping his head to his chest.

“Get out of my office, Agent Mulder,” he says in a low, menacing tone.

“Sir, I’m not asking to contact her, I would never compromise her case, I just need to at least know where she is. What if something happens and I need to find her?”

Skinner stands, looking Mulder in the eye with an intensity he’s seen on very few occasions, none of them fond memories. “Agent Mulder, Agent Scully explicitly asked me not to tell you where she is, or what she’s doing. Even if she hadn’t, I STILL would not tell you, however I hope that if you don't respect the direct orders of your superior, you might, at the very least, respect Agent Scully’s wishes. Now get the hell out of my office and do not bring this up again, understood?”

Mulder glances down and notices Scully’s keys on the desk near Skinner’s nameplate, her Apollo 11 keychain easily identifiable. He leans forward, putting his hands on the desktop, one covering the keys.

“Sir, if anything happens to her, I’ll-“

“You’ll what, Agent Mulder?” Skinner challenges him, stuffing his hands in his pockets in a show of bravado.

Mulder straightens, palming the keys as he stands, and leaves without another word.

Scully arrives at the club just before 2 pm, wearing shorts and a tank top as Angel had instructed. After stuffing her purse into a locker, she finds Angel and Tibet on the floor, which has returned to its daylight state of clean and quiet. Queenie restocks the bar while Ben fiddles with the sound system.

Tibet is up on the stage while Angel sits at the tip rail, offering pointers on a new dance Tibet is working out. Scully immediately notices that Tibet’s hair is cropped short and worn in its natural curls, and realizes she’d been wearing a wig the night before.

“So I was thinking that I could either take my top off just before or just after the first chorus, tell me which looks better, okay?” Tibet says to Angel as Scully enters and takes a seat beside her.

“Benny! Hit me with the music!” Tibet shouts, and then repeats her performance twice, revealing her breasts at a different point in the song each time. When she’s finished, she sits down on the edge of the stage in front of them and asks for their thoughts, her breasts still uncovered.

“I think the sooner the better,” Angel says. “They come here to see your body, so show it to em!”

Tibet nods. “What do you think, Desi?” She asks, stretching a smooth brown leg out to her side and leaning into it.

Scully suddenly feels entirely out of her league in terms of providing an opinion. “Uh, well, generally speaking I guess I’d say wait. You want to build some suspense, right? Make them work for it?”

Angel looks at her suspiciously out of the corner of her eye. “You don’t fuck on the first date, do you?” She asks with a haughty grin, and Scully’s eyes go big at the question. “I’m just messing with you, let’s get to your training!”

“Alright,” Tibet begins as though she’s done this dozens of times, tugging the straps of her shirt back over her shoulders. “So, have you ever given a lap dance before?” she asks plainly, and Scully’s cheeks flush.

“Well, kind of I guess. In college, though more as a joke than anything else. I would definitely consider myself a beginner.”

“Got it, got it,” Tibet responds. “Well, for the most part dancing is about creating a sense of intimacy. It’s fake, obviously, but the more your customer feels like you actually care about him, want him to look at you, like that he’s appreciating your body, the better you’ll do. Your stage set is just about showing yourself off and getting them curious about you. The real money comes from lap dances and VIP, and the more you can draw attention with a really great stage set, the more customers will want to spend time with you afterward. Angel is a beast on the pole and she can teach you all those tricks, but I consider myself the lap dance expert around here, so I’m gonna teach you that part.” She smiles and jumps down from the stage, pulling a chair away from one of the tables and gesturing for Scully to sit in it.

“Oh,” Scully says, and sits as instructed.

“Sometimes, when you’re on the floor, customers will flag you down or ask for you, and that’s great. But you also have to approach people, because they’ll be too shy to ask. So you might come up and do this.”

Tibet saunters towards Scully with a secretive smile on her lips, stepping so close that her thighs thread between Scully’s knees. Next she leans down, placing her hands on Scully’s shoulders and bringing her mouth to Scully’s ear.

“Would you like a dance, Baby?” she asks in a syrupy voice, and Scully feels a shiver run down her spine. Tibet backs up. “Okay, now you try.”

“You want ME to do that?” Scully clarifies, and while just asking someone if they want a lap dance should be the easiest hurdle to clear, she’s finding that it’s still an uncomfortably high one.

Angel turns her head toward the bar and calls out, “Queenie! We need some liquid courage over here!”

Queenie walks over with a bottle of tequila and three shot glasses, pouring them wordlessly before returning to her task.

Angel holds her glass up, Tibet and Scully following suit. “To new career paths,” Angel says, and Scully smiles thinly, clinking her glass with theirs and throwing back the shot with a grimace.

Three weeks. She’s been gone three weeks, and not a word from Skinner. No update, no information, though he’s stopped by a couple times and asked, drawing increasing amounts of rage from his boss. He’s finished all the paperwork, re-organized the files, cleaned and rearranged the office (only to immediately change it back) and spent hours upon hours imagining where Scully might be right now.

He kept her keys, just in case, but knows she’d be unhappy with him invading her privacy by snooping around her apartment. That’s why he waits three whole weeks before he finally does it. He has a key to her apartment and could have gone there at any point, but her personal keyring also holds the keys for her gun safe and her mailbox, which may prove helpful. After work on a Thursday, he drives by and lets himself in, the warm vanilla smell of her immediately invading his nostrils as he opens the door. He sighs deeply, pulling her into his lungs; it feels like coming home.

First he waters her plants, which are looking half dead, and makes a mental note to use watering them as the reason he came here if asked. Next he opens her gun safe, and is struck to find her service weapon holstered and tucked neatly inside with the safety on. She doesn’t have her gun? What the hell kind of assignment is this? He brings in her mail, which is no help at all, and leaves it stacked on the counter. Next he lays down on her bed, shoving his face into her pillow and breathing the smell of her shampoo for a few minutes before he has the thought to look for her overnight bag.

Scully has a go bag in the trunk of her car for emergencies, but given the opportunity she’ll use her overnight bag and pack for the weather, situation, etc. Opening her closet, he finds it on the floor near her laundry hamper, empty save for a travel size can of hairspray tucked into a side pocket. In her bathroom, he finds all her toiletries accounted for, including her toothbrush. The more he sees, the more confused he is. Even when he’d spent time undercover with dangerous individuals, he’d been allowed to bring his own toothbrush.

Moving to the hallway, he picks up her landline and dials.

“Dana?” Maggie Scully’s voice answers on the second ring.

“No, sorry, Mrs. Scully, it’s Fox Mulder.”

“I saw Dana’s name on the caller ID, is she with you?” Her voice carries worry.

“No, I’m just here at her apartment watering her plants, sorry to confuse you. Have you been in touch with Dana, Mrs. Scully?”

“No, Fox, I haven’t heard from her in weeks. She told me she had an assignment that would take her away for a while and that she’d be unreachable, but I’m a little concerned that she hasn’t contacted me yet.”

Mulder closes his eyes. “I wish I had anything to share, Mrs. Scully, but I’m in somewhat of the same boat. A.D. Skinner isn’t concerned and it does sound like he’s in touch with her, but I was hoping she might have called you.”

“I’m afraid not,” Maggie replies sadly.

“What did she tell you when she left? Did she share any information at all?” he asks hopefully.

“Um, let me think. She said she was going on an assignment and that she’d be out of touch for a few weeks. And she said she’d bring me some Tastykakes when she comes home,” she adds.

“Tastykakes, what are those?” Mulder asks, his investigative senses tingling.

“They’re a treat we always get when we go to Philadelphia; little packaged snack cakes. The kids always loved them.”

“Are they only available in Philadelphia?” he asks, heart pumping.

“I’m not sure, but that’s where we always get them,” Maggie says hopefully.

“Thank you, Mrs. Scully. That’s really helpful. I’ll let you know if I track her down, okay?”

“Thank you, Fox. Take care.”

Setting the phone back on its cradle, he does a little victory dance. It isn’t much, but it’s something. Scully is just a few hours away in the city of brotherly love.

Three weeks. It’s been three weeks of practicing stage sets and lap dances in the afternoon, serving drinks in the evening and well into the middle of the night, and then sleeping until noon. Her arms and legs bear fading bruises from her acclimation to Paul the Pole, the crooks of her elbows and knees sporting slight calluses that help her get a good grip (with an assist from the grip powder Angel has instructed her to use). She’s given Tibet and Angel dozens of lap dances each, the other standing by to coach her on making sure one foot stays on the floor. After three weeks, she found that her barriers were mostly in her head. Once she was able to let go and just move, she’s actually pretty good at it.

That day she arrives in pink cotton shorts and a white tank top, now so used to being scantily clad that it no longer makes her self-conscious, and prepares to do a full dress rehearsal of the routine she worked up with Angel’s help. Queenie and Ricky sit down to observe what is more or less a test of her readiness, and one she intends to pass. Where she would have expected to feel nervous, she’s excited, ever the eager student motivated to impress and exceed expectations. Ben kills the daytime lights to make it look and feel like it would if they were open, and her set begins.

Moving onto the stage, she can barely see her audience with the bright lights trained on her. She quickly gets lost in the movements she rehearsed, feeling graceful as she circles the pole and hitches an arm around it, spinning in a feathery arc. When the point in the dance comes to remove her shirt, she does so as a well practiced step in a strategy, without any feelings of exposure. Soon enough her bra follows suit and she is left with only her tiny pink shorts, nipples hardening as they graze the pole. The undulation of her hips, the pop of her booty out towards the audience, the slip of a hand down the inside of her thigh; they’re each a part of the method. Precisely planned and executed in much the same way as she might dismantle and clean her gun, or prepare a slide for the microscope. It isn’t much different than performing an autopsy, she had reasoned. Except instead of: Y incision, open rib cage, remove organs, examine stomach contents, collect specimens, examine brain, it’s: arch back, grasp breasts, spread legs, thrust pelvis, rub thighs, grind on the pole. She’s always found her strength in taking a clinical, detached approach to difficult tasks, and that turns out to be just as effective on the stage as it is in the lab.

As she finishes, her small audience erupts into applause, standing in ovation as Ben brings the house lights up halfway. Scully smiles shyly, stepping down to join them on the floor as Ricky approaches her and slings an arm around her bare shoulders.

“That was fucking fantastic, Desi. Sexy as fuck. Let me see you do a lap dance now.”

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files #case file #case fic #x files fanfic

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witteksaga · 4 years ago

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Roommates - Jeff Wittek One Shot

in which you tag along on a trip with the gang - only to be kicked out of your room and your luck is to share one with no one else but jeff

—

You weren’t eager to go on this trip. You sure needed a break - well, not really a break, of course it would be a madhouse with the gang, but a getaway from your way too busy life at the moment would’ve been perfect. However, your deadlines were coming up and you had to study and do your assignments on time. David took no notice of your busy schedule and basically dragged you along, snatching your ID card so that Natalie could buy you your ticket before you had any chance to protest. You thought if you organised all of the things you had to do very carefully, a few days out of town wouldn’t hurt.

You sat next to David on the plane ride over, with him completely asleep and often snoring, it gave you an opportunity to focus on your coursework. You felt content with your progress but the long flight did tire you out. The others, however, were feeling fresh and energised and ready to smash the evening. Once the flight was over you all crammed into two cars, you somehow-on-purpose chose to be in Jeff’s car. You hadn’t had the chance to talk to him before and you kind of missed him. You always had a strong connection with him - you two always understood each other’s moods and thoughts, you knew when to ask and when to just be silent. You could talk for hours or not say anything at all and have it not be awkward. You admired his dedication to everything his put his mind to, he was one of the hardest working people you knew and that really made a positive impact on your own way of living. But nothing in life is perfect and this relationship had its flaws. You were a very jealous person to begin with. You were always jealous of your own friends, let alone boyfriends. But with Jeff you always tried to push those feelings away. You hadn’t given it much thought and you spent a good amount of time convincing yourself that you just wanted to keep him as a close friend and someone you can always rely on in your life. But whenever you were in a big company, with girls always surrounding him, you felt your stomach twist and turn. Once you decided to ignore all of that, you were determined that your only focus was your education and career. That definitely helped and you thought you were on the right path.

“Hey, baby, wanna sit in front?” Zane asked you as he opened the car door. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” You said as you smiled lazily, the tiredness getting the best out of you. Once you all got in the car Jeff turned to you and asked how you were. He reached his hand and lightly brushed your cheek with his fingers.

“I’m fine, I just didn’t get any sleep on the plane.” You couldn’t help but smile at his concern. The drive to the house David had rented was a long one and you felt ready for bed once you got in the house, but you tried your best to bring your energy level up by drinking a red bull following the strong coffee you had on the way there.

The house was massive, with enough rooms for everyone. You and Natalie had one to share, as well as Todd and Jeff. Zane, Jason and David got the biggest suite, while Mariah and Heath got the one next to yours. The whole night was filled with drinking and laughter, David filmed nearly the whole time. The focus of the night were Todd and Natalie, who were an item but hadn’t made it official yet. David was picking at them all night long, Natalie was both quite drunk and even more angry at all the inappropriate jokes her way. You understood, David would give everyone a hard time with something like that, but it was all lighthearted.

Eventually everyone got tired and you were one of the first to go to their rooms and start getting ready for bed. You had just gotten into your pyjamas when you sat on the bed and decided to check on your email when a rather tipsy Natalie entered the room and slowly closed the door. She looked at you with puppy eyes and sat on the floor in front of you, hugging your legs and putting her head to rest on them.

“Oh no, what do you want, Nat?” You knew something was fishy when she was being needy like that.

“I love you, and I want to spend time with you, but I need you to switch rooms with Todd tonight. I’ll personally return the favour with whatever you want later. Please baby, don’t hate me.” She said as she hugged you even tighter.

“Oh my god, you two will be the death of me. What if David finds out, he’ll make a hell of a vlog out of you two fucking.” You laughed, you knew you would agree in order to make your friends happy and have their fun. “Shut up, no one’s fucking, we just wanted to spend the night together.” She rolled her eyes as she laughed.

“Thank you, I’ll repay you later, but now you need to get out and quick, before anyone sees you two switching.” She said just as Todd entered the room and shushed you with his finger. “But wait, which room do I go to? Who are you sharing with?” You asked panicked as you looked around to take at least your phone and laptop. “Down the hall, now go before David comes up here. Thanks!.” The last part was muffled as you found yourself in the empty corridor, laughing to yourself and the situation. You only wondered for a second with who you’ll be sharing the night as you entered the last room down the hall and saw Jeff laid out on the bed, going through his phone. “Oh hey, mistery roommate for tonight.” He said as he smiled and tapped the bed. You laughed at your own look and threw yourself on the bed, quickly covering your body with the duvet. “I’ve been waiting for this all day and those fuckers managed to throw me out of my own bed.” “Why, did you want to join them?” He laughed as he turned on his side to look at you. You scrunched up your nose in annoyance and lightly pushed him with your hand. Jeff then got up and went to lock the door. “Oh, no, what have I gotten myself into?!” You joked as well, looking at him standing next to the bed as he grabbed his black hoodie and pulled it over his head, but with it his shirt lifted too, revealing his toned torso and very defined V. You felt the rosy colour in your cheeks and quickly turned your eyes so that he won’t see you staring. “You know, I’m glad you’re here with me tonight instead of Todd. I couldn’t stand another minute of him blabbing about Natalie or David and their ridiculous problems.” “Yeah, it could’ve been way worse.” You agreed. “So, catch me up, what’s been going on with you?” Jeff asked as he laid next to you. “There’s nothing you don’t know about, I’m halfway done with my assignments, I actually managed to do half of the last one on the plane while David was snorting next to me.” “Well, you got lucky, I couldn’t get rid of Todd all day until now.” He smiled when he looked you yawning and stroked your hair away from your face. Suddenly you weren’t so sleepy, and you thought how the hell would you fall asleep with Jeff next to you. He had become a source of stress for you, with his perfect body and hair, wicked sense of humour and just the sweetest attitude towards you only.

“How’s the single life going?” You asked and mentally slapped yourself for the stupid quiestion. Jeff looked at you surprised and thought for a second how to respond.

“It’s the same as always, thanks for pouring salt into my wound. How’s your single life going?” He said as he mocked you.

“Oh shut up. I don’t have time to even think about that.”

“And yet, you think about mine. Is that so, darling?” He countied with his mockery, but had the sweetest look on his face.

“I always think about you, you dumbass. You’re my best friend.” You said and surprised yourself with the imprompt burst of honesty. He didn’t say anything, just slid his hands on your waist under the covers, pulling you close to him. You nuzzled your face into his chest, feeling his intoxicating smell.

“That was a subtle way of friendzoning me, if I’ve seen one.” He said as he looked down on you. You looked up to see his face, this time you felt the seriousness of his expression. But again you decided to play dumb, as this was turning into a tradition for you.

“Oh, you were putting the moves on me then?” You said as your heart skipped a beat, you sensed you were going into a dangerous territory. To your surprise he didn’t say anything, just sighed silently as he pushed you lightly and made his way out of bed once again. You sat up and looked at him expectantly.

“You either are completely oblivious, or you really like playing dumb, y/n.” You sensed he was getting angrier in his tone.

“What are you talking about, Jeff?” You asked, you didn’t expect him to get angry so suddenly.

“You’ve been ignoring me for the last month. David had to straight up blackmail you to come on this trip with us. You barely go out and spend time with me or the others. What’s up with that? Have you met someone else?” Jeff stood in front of you with a dead serous look on his face, waiting for your explanation.

“What the hell are you talking about? Someone else? Are you asking me if I found a new friend group?” You were overtired and getting quite angry as well. How dared he nearly yell at you for something as stupid as this.

“Don’t do that with me, don’t play dumb. You know what I’m talking about.”

“No, I don’t. You know perfectly well I’m not seeing anyone and you know what I’ve been doing. That it.”

“No, that’s not the reason. Why have you been ignoring me?” Now you didn’t know what to say. How do you explain to him that you’re trying to control yourself and if you admit your feelings to yourself, they become real? You stay silent and that makes him mad even more.

“You’re completely oblivious, y/n. I’m sick and tired of hearing you don’t have time for anything. If you wanted to, you would make time. If you wanted to see me, you would find the time. Like I do. I would always find time for you, because you’re that important to me. Don’t you get it?” He said as he turned around and quickly unlocked the door and got out.

You didn’t run after him. You couldn’t have this argument in a house full of your sleeping friends. You stayed on the bed and tried to calm yourself from the sudden argument that left you with a thousand thoughts, all of them confusing you even more. You considered sleeping but you were way too emotional to just fall asleep, especially when you didn’t know what Jeff had in mind. What would everyone think when they find him asleep on the couch in the living room? Then everyone would find out that Todd and Natalie slept in one room and hell would break loose. You quickly got up and went to the kitchen where you found Jeff with a glass of water in his hand, leaning against the counter. You didn’t look at him as you grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and passed by him, only to be taken aback by him softly grabbing your wrist.

“Y/n, I’m sorry.” He said softly as he looked at you.

“Let me go. I’m still mad at you for yelling at me.” You tried to move away, but he didn’t let go, only moved his thumb lightly, caressing your hand.

“Baby...” You shuddered as you heard him call you that, that nickname only slipping from his lips a few times before, usually when he’s had a few drinks and had gotten more flirtatious than usual. He had pulled you so close to him, you could feel his breath on your face. Your breathing was so slow, heart about to burst out of your chest. His other hand made its way to your face and before you knew it, his lips crashed into yours, both hands now pulling you as close as possible to him. You were quick to return the kiss, your own hands flying to his face and grabbing the back of his head. The kiss went on for a while, until you both had to separate in order to take a breath.

“Now do you get it?” He said as he broke the silence surrounding you two. “You drive me insane.” He added as he spared no time and hungrily kissed you again, this time picking you up and quickly taking you back to the room you two now shared.

#jeff wittek #jeff wittek imagine #I hope you like this #jeff wittek fanfiction #vlog squad

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tirsynni · 3 years ago

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Okay, keep in mind I’m going to start my RE6 watch in, oh, fifteen minutes and haven’t seen it yet, so this bit of Leon flailing is based on what I have seen. This also relies on both the games and movies (and ignores the books and other bits of canon/pseudo-canon).

Under a cut because this went longer than planned and I think I forgot what I was going for after a bit due to Leon flailiing.

We meet our intrepid hero in RE2 (and technically, RE2 Remake, as they provide different bits of background on Leon). In the original, Leon was late because his girlfriend broke up with him, he got drunk, and overslept. In the remake, he was deliberately told to not come because the outbreak had begun and ended up going to Raccoon City when he couldn’t get a hold of anyone (I think that’s what it was). For the sake of argument, we’re combining the two. He had a girlfriend, she broke up with him because he had this crazy idea to apply to a police officer position in another city because he wanted to investigate insane murders of all things, dealt with the break-up by getting drunk, but was late going to the city because he was told not to come. In at least one RE universe, it’s established that drinking is a possible coping mechanism for him. No further details given.

So we have an inclination there but no further evidence of use. Not yet. In RE2, he still pretty optimistic, helpful, compassionate, and people-focused. Honestly, a pretty sweet guy who just wants to help people (and not be turned into a flesh-eating monster). By the end of the remake, we have some foreshadowing after Ada falls when the shadows fall over him and his face is grim. We have a hint as to what he could be.

The end of RE2 is full of betrayals and pain. He learns about Ada. He is horrified by Annette’s attitude toward the virus and her dismissal of her role in it. He is kidnapped by the government who, instead of helping him and Sherry, threatens her life to force him to work for him. The scene ends with him still bloody, hunched over, and shouting that she is just a child. Fucking ow.

His next bit is in Darkside Chronicles. Still pretty sweet, pretty optimistic, a trained fighter not flinching when attacked by monsters, and there’s a nice contrast between him and the more grizzled Krauser. Krauser is more cynical, more ruthless, not a bad guy (not yet), but unlike Leon, he tends to judge things in certain categories, like victims, weapons, etc. The most interesting bit of contrast between the pair is that Leon is far calmer about the monsters than Krauser, who is terrified and, between that and his career-ended wound, sees the viruses as weapons which can be utilized. At this stage of the game, Leon’s big concern remains helping people, as seen in his defense of Manuela. Even after his betrayal by the government, he looks at Krauser and never thinks of the man betraying him or hurting him. He fearlessly extends his hand to Krauser.

In DC, when the final scene of RE2 is referenced, he never mentions the government’s threats or his own forced employment. There is no canon reference to him telling anyone ever.

RE4 is just... fucking trauma. He deals with it with quips and puns and bad humor, but you can tell he’s frustrated and angry. He’s furious with the bad guys and how they treat Ashley and Krauser. He’s betrayed by Krauser and is confused by how Krauser chose his path (which hurts a bit, honestly). How Saddler uses the parasite to control and hurt him. Confirming Ada is alive and the betrayal inherent in that. There’s just... a lot going on for him in RE4. Still! He maintains his sense of humor, keeping Ashley’s spirits up, and flirting with Hunnigan at the end. He’s still holding on.

ID takes place after RE4. For the first time, he references his horror at how the government destroyed Raccoon City without trying to help survivors. He references his horror about the nightmare that was surviving in Raccoon City. He is, again, betrayed. He, once again, has the nightmare that is his own government thrown back in his face.

Still, he’s hanging on! He’s trying to be optimistic, but you see him faltering when Claire is angry with him at the end. Hell, I swear you see him trying not to cry at certain scenes.

Again, no reference that he’s tried to explain anything to Claire, and... yeah. I can see her trying to fistfight the government over all of this, and Leon repeatedly, desperately hopes to end these horrors without accidentally creating more.

Still holding on, though! Still hanging in there!

Damnation, in my opinion, is when we really see him start breaking for the first time. By the end of that movie, he’s realized how thoroughly the government has manipulated and betrayed him. The government couldn’t act in that country, but they knew he could and would and set him up. He just had to shoot a man to save him. He has Hunnigan, someone he trusts because Leon trusts easily and gets attached to people easily and she’s been working with him for years, insisting that she knew nothing about it. He’s exhausted, hurt, betrayed again, and with Sasha and later by himself, you see him drinking, the former with a flask used by yet another person he wasn’t able to save. No sign of optimism. No joking. With Sasha, he gives the suicide speech which could easily have been intended for both of them: you can’t eat a bullet not because life is good and worth living but because you chose to serve others when you picked up that gun and now you need to live for them.

RE6? More horrific betrayals. More... everything. It starts terrible and then keeps going.

By Vendetta, he gets vacation time and slinks away with a bottle. There is no indication that even by then anyone has any idea how terribly the government has betrayed him, and he’s stuck with them. When he wants to lick his wounds, he doesn’t go to anyone for help. He claimed vacation time, hid himself away, and pulled out a damned bottle.

So we’ve had hints from the start that alcohol was an acceptable coping mechanism in his head, even if we didn’t see any signs of self-medication until the end of Damnation. The guy also hides and tries to treat his wounds by himself. He never tells anyone about how much the government has fucked him over. He does try occasionally to reach out -- to Luis, to Krauser, to Jason -- and it didn’t help any because they all ended up dead

It makes me curious about what would have happened if Chris and Rebecca hadn’t found him in Vendetta. When his vacation was done, would he just have taken a deep breath, trashed the bottles, and greeted his co-workers with a dad joke? It’s also interesting that one of the few times we see him that hostile toward an ally is when he does take that time to tuck himself away and engage in behaviors we don’t see him normally display around others. He’s the guy who either breaks the tension or, if he’s fucked up, just withdraws. I don’t see him as an alcoholic, although that is a popular fan headcanon. That would take it more out of his control, put it more into the public arena. He keeps pain and unhealthy coping mechanisms private, with Chris and Rebecca literally having to hunt him down in a random location when he tucked himself away to drink.

Through his timeline, we see the ongoing betrayals and hits take their toll on him, we see him using humor less and withdrawing more, we see when he picks up that bottle in Damnation.

But we also see him pick himself up in Vendetta when needed and take to the battlefield and stagger to Chris and Rebecca after getting his ass kicked by Arias. By that time, he’s definitely no longer the bright-eyed rookie in RE2, but his core remains the same.

If Chris could just give him a hug instead of a bottle after Vendetta, I would appreciate it.

#leon kennedy is a cinnamon roll #leon needs a hug #meta #rant was in control in my head #and then went off track when i started flailing about it #be nice to him once #okay canon?#this was supposed to be about his drinking timeline #and just became a rant about why he needs a hug

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unsaidmar · 4 years ago

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Call.

a/n: hello peeps! this is a request! thank you for liking what i write, it means the world to me. love y'all. requests still open.

wc: 1.5k hehe

warning: mentions of death, curse words, sad stuff.

pairing: spencer x bau! reader.

plot: For the first time, you’re not where he is. It drives you crazy.

--------------

You considered yourself quite the resilient person. Emotions got to you but never incapacitated you. Danger was a given in the career path you had chosen and the prospect of it was something you were used to, but never like this. It was always your own life you were worried about, but the BAU had taken the grasp you had on your job and your reality and completely redifined it.

Being guarded with your emotions and affections was a defense mechanism you had developed thanks to your experience in law enforcement. People always got hurt and you had to move on from it, that’s just how it was. But the BAU was the one to break the mold.

Those people had been through a lot together, the good, the bad and the ugly. They had seen it all and done it all, and now you were a part of it. They took you in and accepted you like you hadn’t just joined the team and you let them. Soon enough, Rossi was walling you “kid” and kissing both your cheeks when he greeted you, Morgan was fist bumping you when you made stupid jokes and you were going out to dinner with Emily, JJ and Penelope. Not one of them hesitated to put their life on the line with or for you, and it shook your world.

All of a sudden it wasn’t just yourself you had to worry about, because every person walking into burning buildings and hostage situations with you was your family. You loved every one of them and losing them scared you a lot, enough to feel like your heart was beating out of your chest whenever they were in danger.

And still, you had to go and fall in love.

Spencer had woven himself into your life, your routine, your work life and eventually your heart. It felt like he was marking his territory before he knew he was doing it, something resembling a person moving into your home, but the things he left behind were more than a toothbrush or a book. He left his mark in little things you incorporated into your life and it slowly transformed the both of you into a collage of each other.

He started drinking soy milk when you convinced him it was not bad and that subjecting himself to the pain of being lactose intolerant and still consuming milk, wasn’t worth it. You stopped leaving your windows open at night when he freaked you out about stray cats taking residence in your couch and potential burglars getting in. And those absolutely inconsequential things were forever going to be a gift you had given each other, no matter what came out of your relationship, even if you went your separate ways. Which, you never did.

Three years into working at the BAU, and two into your relationship with Spencer, you got married. The both of you figured that the wait was not necessary because you knew very early on that that was it, you were it. Next thing you knew, your fourth wedding anniversary was coming up, and so were many other things.

After getting kidnapped and shot, you were never the same. You had come to terms with dying, you wanted it to happen so you didn’t have to deal with the inevitable trauma that came with surviving, but you weren’t that lucky. Everyone had been worried about you and the living ghost look you were sporting. It looked like you were re living the situation in your head every moment you were awake, and that was indeed the case. It haunted you when you were sleeping and it consumed you when you were awake, so Hotch made you take a break.

Stubbornness was your thing, so he took away your badge any other form of ID that could get you into the building, he didn’t answer your calls and only texted your work cellphone to ask you to stop asking him to reinstate you. Being alone with your thoughts was hell. Having your family out there risking their lives without you was even worse.

“Hey Spence, it’s me again… um... could you let me know if you’ve been getting my texts? It’s just that… you never not text me back and I’m getting worried. Is that too much? I’m probably being ridiculous. Anyways, call me back. Or text. Just let me know you’re okay. I love you.” You sighed and put your phone down for what felt like the twentieth time in the last half hour.

This had never been the case. You were never the worried spouse that had to rely on phone calls or texts to communicate or to even know your husband was alive. It made you empathize with Will, with Haley. It made you want to ask them for advice on not going crazy. Your mind was already going rouge.

I can’t be a widow. I can’t mourn the love of my life, how does anyone? What happens if I lose him? How foolish of me to have dismissed this when we got married. We’re FBI agents, for the love of God. We point guns and have them pointed back at us for a living. I’ll have to take my ring off. Do I keep it? I can’t look at it if he’s gone. Who picks out the dress for the funeral? If I have to do it, I’ll go insane. I can’t bury him; I can’t go watch them lower him to the ground. I will just cremate him and split his ashes so his mom has him too. His mom. That woman won’t be able to bear outliving her baby. God, please pick up the fucking phone.

You: Honey, please text me back!!! Have someone text me for you, idc.

You: Spence, charge your phone.

You: Why is Derek not texting me back either?

You: Are you angry at me?

You: I’d rather you tell me if you’re angry. Don’t ghost me when you’re on a case.

You: Spencer.

You: I’m calling Penny.

Three rings it took for Penelope to answer.

“Hi my sweet, beautiful, ____. How can I be of assistance to you at this indecent hour of the morning/night?” She chirped, her tone already relaxing you. She would be the first to know if something had gone wrong.

“Hi Penny, do you have any word on the team? I keep calling and texting Spencer and he hasn’t gotten back to me. It’s been like three hours.” You said, holding back the tears.

“Oh, sweet stuff. Last I heard, they were delivering the profile. They’re in Kansas and there was a tornado warning. The power is out. Maybe all of their phones ran out of battery.” She tried to reassure you, like always, already knowing what was happening in your head. “Is everything okay? Have you slept?”

“Not really. Spence stopped replying and I got anxious.”

“Don’t worry hun, bad news travel fast.”

“Yeah, yeah… you’re right. I should…”

Before you could finish your sentence, the door creaked open and you saw a defeated looking Spencer hang his jacket and take his shoes off trying to be quiet, assuming you were asleep. You felt the color come back to your face and you dropped the phone on the couch without even making sure you had ended the call.

“Oh, thank God.” You ran to him and aggressively hugged him. Much to your embarrassment, the tears you were trying so hard to hold back were now streaming down your face.

“Hey, hey…” He took in your appearance and instantly worried about you. “What happened? Is everything okay?”

“What the fuck happened to your phone? And everyone else’s for that matter!” You said, letting go of him and raising your voice without meaning to. Spencer knew you never yelled, so he was taken aback by your words.

“It died, ___, four hours ago, the power went out and the generator wasn’t working. Why are you screaming?” He rushed out.

“Because you never texted me back and I thought you were dead!” Your voice was a lot calmer now, much more frustrated and tired.

“Honey, I’m so sorry, everything happened so fast, I didn’t even think about my phone. I didn’t mean to make you angry; I promise.”

“I’m not angry, baby. At least not at you. I hate being here and not out there with you. I can’t sit around and wait for you to give me proof of life. it’s driving me insane and it has only happened once.” You groaned, choking back quiet sobs now. “I can’t lose you. I can’t be the last to find out.” You fell to the couch like your legs had stopped working.

Your husband was looking at you like he didn’t even think about that, like the realization had just hit him. You couldn’t blame him, neither of you were used to that dynamic of checking your phones because the one person you would want to update was always along for the ride.

“Baby, you’re not going to lose me. I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll care more about my phone. I didn’t mean to worry you.” He said, crouching to be eye to eye with you and taking your hands.

“No, no..I’m sorry. I’m being ridiculous, I went crazy. You shouldn’t have to do that…” You kissed his knuckles and slid down the couch to sit on the floor with him. All you wanted was to be near him. You put your arms around his neck and whispered. “I love you, I’m sorry I yelled at you. I was losing it. I’m not used to this feeling of not knowing where you are or if you’re okay, I felt helpless.”

“It’s okay hun, I get it, I love you too. We’re both new to this whole being-a part thing. If I’m honest, I don’t like it.” He pulled you to his lap so you were tangled up like a koala.

“I hate it. It 's the worst. I’m done with this break”

“Hotch is just looking out for you, he wanted to give you your space after the accident. You can talk to him and see how he feels about you coming back.” His reassuring words were already lightening the mood, and you were grateful he was fine. Once the adrenaline died down, the sleep you had been missing hit you like a ton of bricks. You stifled a yawn and planted a kiss on Spencer’s forehead.

“You’re tired. Let’s go to sleep.” He took notice of your droopy eyelids and went to stand up. “Have you been awake all this time?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t just go to bed.” You replied, removing yourself from his lap and taking his hand.

“Come on, let’s crash. I’m off tomorrow, we don’t have to wake up early.”

Oh, thank the lord.

“I’ll go to sleep, but I have one condition.” You said with your best attempt at a mischievous grin.

“What is it?” Spencer asked, knowing that tone and that face all too well.

“Get a stupid portable charger.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid blurb #cm

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charmspoint · 3 years ago

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what i know abt qifrey from u talking abt him uhh ok so he's genuinely just a nice guy but also he's evil and irredeemable but also he's literally just a pleasant gentleman

I know ur not asking for a rant about this but by god ur gonna get it.

So the thing is, I don't think Qifrey is evil or irredeemable at all. We joke around the fandom (at least i hope its mostly jokes) that he's evil and crazy but he's really not. If id have to pin Qifrey on a morality spectrum I'd say morally gray but leaning towards the good.

Did Qifrey do some messed up stuff? Yes, fo sure. But I've always gotten more of an impression that he's teetering towards the edge and not completely over it. He does do damage but so far he's mostly made sure that damage was extremely localized and not actually harming other people (I talked about before how Qifrey's own memory erasing spell seems weirdly specialized compared to what we were brought to believe memory erasing spell actually does when used by anyone else).

But now comes the question

Do I think Qifrey will get worse?

Yes, 100% I believe this is where we are going towards, I said before that I'm p convinced he will become some kind of obstacle for Coco down the line.

Qifrey is going through a LOT rn. He's already got ptsd from, you know being stripped of his identity, buried alive, almost drowned and then remembering he was experimented on like a lab rat, but now it's getting worse. Before he could at least relay on the fact that even though his past was horrible, his future was bright. He genuinely loves his job, he loves his girls, he loves teaching. This monolog gets me every single time

Now he's losing his future, he's losing not only his eye, but the whole identity he built out of nothing, he's losing his teaching position, he's losing his kids, he's losing Everything he gained after he had already lost Everything.

It leaves him rushing against an uncertain time limit, desperate, stumbling, sloppy. I don't think he's thinking straight anymore, not really. I think he's convinced he is being methodical and calculating but in actuality he's stumbling forward, grasping at straws, unable to hold on to anything but his need for revenge and the empty words that his actions aren't only for his own sake.

It's all very striking, in his relationship with Olruggio in particular. Olruggio is very clearly supposed to be the guiding light for Qifrey, the one who pulls him back when he goes too far, the one who helps him resist the growing darkness. It's very meaningful how as Qifrey continues on his path he makes sure Olruggio doesn't even know about it. He said it himself, if Olruggio knew, he'd try to save him. He'd try to bring Olruggio to light again and Qifrey doesn't WANT to be saved, he has decided on a road he wants to take and he won't allow anyone to change his course. Not even Olruggio.

So do I think Qifrey is evil?

Do I think he'll get worse?

Yes

Do I think he'll become evil?

Not really

See here's the thing. Qifrey's desperation, how quickly he's trying to work through this, how determined he is to throw everything else under the bus if he could just achieve his goals? All of that is dictated by the fact he's running out of time, the fact that once he loses his eyesight he can no longer be a witch. Eyesight is VERY important to witches since magic is a very visual art. We've seen with Tartar how something as seemingly miniscule as color blindness can basically doom someone, causing everyone around them to say they can't become a witch without good eyesight. So complete blindness is a death sentence to a witches career. Now, it's funny how a lot of the Coustas and Tartars arc has to do with adjusting the world to disability and not the person to the world. How it's made pointed, over and over again, that people with disabilities shouldn't be written off but given proper tools that will help them function, how the world should adjust to be a more comfortable place for all kinds of people and not just those who are already adjusted to it. Without the threat of his eyesight going out and cutting his whole identity into bits, Qifrey wouldn't have to act like this, he would be able to sit and think and not rush and if he still wants to pursue brimhats he could do it more safely for himself and everyone else because the desperation factor would be gone.

So what I think is going to happen is that Qifrey will lose his eyesight but won't lose his standing as a witch because he, Olruggio and the kids will figure out how to make magic accessible to him.

Now there's of course a bunch more unaccounted for variables which I'll probably have a better grasp on after the current arc is done being translated. Ininia and Lord Restis represent a very interesting development because they are brimhats introduced specifically via healing injuries. The rule of 'medicine magic isn't allowed cuz it's a slippery slope' has been there since the beginning of the series and a big thorn in the 'yeah the witch world rules are good and fair' side cuz of course, everyone thinks healing people should be allowed. Now the brimhats we've had so far were fully ready to attack and experiment on children's bodies in order to further their own goals so of course that immediately leaves you disliking them and not putting much account into their rhetoric even though it does make sense at times, but ur not gonna listen to ppl experimenting on kids. That's why I think Ininia and Lord Restis are interesting, cuz if they aren't literally attacking children they might get a good case in about medicine magic being allowed. I think we are going towards at least some sort of medicine magic becoming acceptable considering Tartar's arc. But then the question is, if some sort of medicine magic is approved, will it be used to heal disabilities cuz like...that would kinda suck. I would much rather have a 'world should be adjusted so disabled people can participate in it equally' narrative rather than the 'just heal the disability with magic lol' narrative. But honestly this whole paragraph is pure speculation because the arc isn't fully translated or even fully out yet but I sure af am LOOKING at it. I think it will be v important in understanding where the story is going to go. I just hope Shirahama does a good job with it, but honestly she never once let me down up until now so I'm feelin positive.

Circling back to Qifrey, I do think he's one of the kindest, most understanding, most lovable characters I've had a joy of reading and studying. But he does have a black hole in him that is pulling apart all that kindness, leaving him a shattering shell. I don't think he's evil, I don't think he'll ever become truly evil and despite what he's done I don't think any of what he did is irredeemable, especially with how careful he tends to be not to take away from people more than he has to to further his own goals. But I do think that hole will eat at him more and more and that before he can get better somebody will have to notice it and help him plug it up. Olruggio noticed and Qifrey refused the help, convinced that he can't be helped, not in the way he needs. He will need proof that he can keep his future before he can ease up on the frantic hunt after his past

#megacarapa #witch hat atelier #tbna #lucy rants #im sorry ive been thinking many thoughts lately and you fell into it at just the right time #this is honestly mostly me feeling uncomfy when ppl call qifrey evil cuz he's really not :(

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