#i brushed over this so quickly in my long analysis but it needs its own post... that s1 scene is coming back in a big way in s5

[mikesbasementbeets]

[cacoetheswriting]

library hours [reimagined] - spencer reid

warnings: age gap, professor / student, maybe a swear word or two, a lil tension, but mainly a fluffy first interaction word count: 1.7k summary: a late night at the university library leads to reader meeting a certain handsome professor.

a/n: this is a reimagined / rewritten version of this fic. for those interested, the original centres around baby!spencer. both fics start off pretty much the same, what differs is the interaction between spencer and reader.

-

There was something you always enjoyed about the going to the library.

Perhaps it was the way every single person that walked through the threshold had a purpose. A mission to complete. Perhaps it was the quiet. The solace you felt sitting alone in a corner researching various topics, for class and for recreational purposes.

The university library had quickly become your second home. A location you frequented more than your own dorm room. It wasn’t always to study, no. You people watched. Doodled. Even napped there from time to time. The place brought you peace, and by the time you senior year rolled around, you saw the librarians more than your college friends.

The university library was also the place where you first met a certain handsome professor, doctor - which in time became the main reason why you liked it so much.

Lights were slowly being turned off section by section. A vacuum came to life in one of the aisles. People started to scramble from their seats - shoving their things into their backpacks, throwing out empty coffee cups into the overflowing bins, checking out books they might still use that evening.

All signs indicating it was time to go.

Dolly, one of the librarians, ushered towards you. Her jacket draped over her shoulders, her bag in hand. She gave you the usual spiel of how you can stay until the janitor is finished cleaning, to which you politely nodded along. She wished you a pleasant night, and with a “see you tomorrow” she hurried out the door.

Once she was out of sight, you groaned under your breath and ran your fingers through your hair. You had an assignment due tomorrow, one you started hours ago and only managed to formulate three total sentences. Your gut was telling you there was no way you were going to finish now, especially since you had about thirty minutes until you would have to leave.

Leaning back in your chair, you fluttered your eyes closed in an attempt to collect your thoughts. The tranquil feeling didn’t last long however, as you were abruptly brought back to reality by someone loudly clearing their throat. You immediately sat back up and quickly scanned the space for the source of the interruption.

A tall brunette man stood a few tables away, his hands slowly sliding into the pockets of his pants. He was definitely older, by how much you couldn't quite tell. But, you definitely took notice of how handsome he was.

“The library is closed for the night.” He stated, the tone of his voice calm yet stern.

“I have permission to be here.” You retorted with as much confidence as you could muster, but the mysterious man didn't seem impressed with your answer. With an arched brow, he took a firm step in your direction.

“From who?” He challenged, as if he was waiting to catch you in a lie.

You folded your arms across your chest, unwilling to give in to whatever game he was playing. “Dolly, the librarian. I could call her if you don't believe me?”

The brunette didn’t respond. Instead, his lips twirled slightly upwards into a sly smirk and with the way he was now looking at you, you could feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You only hoped he didn't see the faint pink blush now present on your facial features.

“May I?” The man asked after a brief moment of silence, pointing to to the chair beside yours. You found yourself nodding, before quickly turning your attention away from him, and back to the book in front of you.

While he made himself comfortable, his leg brushed against yours. The sudden close contact sent a jolt down your spine and you shivered. A small act he definitely noticed.

“You’re not some sort of killer, are you? You’re not here to murder me?” You asked, tilting your head to once again look at the man. Shaking his head, he let out a wholehearted chuckle.

“No, I’m definitely not a murder.” He reassured.

“Definitely? That's over selling it, don't you think? It’s exactly the kind of thing a murder would say.” You teased in response, gaining a little bit of your courage back. He didn't reply. The smirk on his face widened just a little and he eyed you silently, as if you were a treasure map he was desperate to solve.

The two of you stared at one another for what felt like eternity. There was something amicable about the seconds that passed as you looked into his hazel eyes. Something harmonious. Friendly. Strong.

When you finally broke contact and proceeded to return to working on your assignment, you could still feel his gaze burning into the side of your head. In any other situation, with any other stranger, the feeling would have made you uncomfortable. Scared even. But there was something quite thrilling about the mysterious brunette sitting beside you.

“I’m a profiler.” He said after another moment of comfortable silence. “I work for the FBI as part of their Behavioral Analysis Unit.” He added as you glanced up at him from your notes, intrigue gracing your facial features. The statement was to make you feel safer in his presence - not that it was needed since you already felt strangely guarded around him.

You smiled, dropping your pen and shifting in your chair to face him completely. “So, agent, what are you doing at a university library on a Thursday night? Did the bad guys take a break?”

“Doctor.” He calmly corrected.

“What?”

“It’s doctor, not agent.” He said, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. “I have PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering.”

The smug look on his face earned him a playful eye roll. “You don’t happen to have a PhD in History under your belt, do you, doctor? Because that would be very helpful right about now.”

“No, but I do have an eidetic memory and can read twenty-thousand words per minute.” He declared and you gaped at him in disbelief, mouth parting ever so slightly in shock.

Great, you thought, as if he wasn't intimidating enough.

“You could have just said you were a superhero.” You joked before leaning in towards him ever so slightly. The faint whiff of his cologne caught you off a little off guard, and you took a mental note to never again settle for someone that only used body spray. “Don’t worry, I’m really good with secrets. I won’t tell anyone.” You whispered and gently pressed your index finger to your lips.

The comment caused the handsome doctor to throw his head back in a whole-hearted laugh. He placed a hand on his stomach as you slowly shifted back to your previous position, chewing down on the inside of your cheek down to stop yourself from commenting on how good he looked.

“Am I going to get an answer to my previous question?” You asked once the laughter died down, your assignment long forgotten.

“I teach here.”

The statement earned him another eye roll. “Seriously? Is there anything you don't or can't do?”

It was his turn to lean in. He rested his elbows on his knees and intertwined his fingers together, his hazel eyes never leaving yours. The air hitched in your lungs at his proximity. You felt as if every single cell in your body was shaking.

“Well, us superheroes, we like to stay busy.” He whispered, his cool minty breath hitting you in the process, sending a shiver down your spine.

You cleared your throat, a timid smile appearing on your face. “There uhm, there’s this diner not far from here. It’s twenty-four hours meaning they won’t kick us out. Would you like to come with me? We can have coffee?”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he moved back in his seat and ran a hand through his already ruffled hair. You bit down on your bottom lip, wondering what was going through his mind. Wondering if perhaps you had overstepped some sort of boundary since he was a professor and you were a student.

But, it was just coffee. Nothing more. That wasn't so bad... Right?

“Coffee sounds nice.” He responded with a smile, after what felt like forever.

Outside, there wasn’t a cloud in the night sky making the million stars shine all that brighter. They looked like perfect sugar granules spilled on a dark surface, accompanied by the glowing moonlight.

The breathtaking sight was accompanied by street lamps. They illuminated the path while you walked side by side, almost in sync. Shoulders faintly brushing against one another.

“How long have you been a profiler?” You asked, looking ahead. The wind blew lightly through your hair causing your brunette companion to turn his head and observe you quietly. A smile crept up on his lips.

“I joined when I was twenty-two.” He answered. You glanced up at him for a brief moment - that wasn't much younger than you now. The look in his eyes suggested he knew that’s what you were thinking.

“Do you like it? Or do you prefer teaching?”

He licked his lips, thinking. As he furrowed his brows together, you noticed the unobtrusive age lines defining his handsome features. Each individual crease telling a different story, and you found yourself hoping you would one day be lucky enough to hear them.

“Every job has its pros and cons.” The brunette man stated eventually, lightly shrugging his shoulders.

You couldn't help but let out a soft giggle at his answer. “Okay professor, now you just sound conventional.”

He chuckled, his hands sliding into the front pockets of his pants. “I’ve been called many things in my life, miss. Conventional was never one of them.”

“It’s Y/N. My name, uhm, my name is Y/N.”

You both stopped once you introduced yourself, simultaneously turning in your spots, so that you were facing each other completely.

“Y/N...” He tested your name on his tongue, and a smile embellished your features because for some reason it sounded incredibly striking coming out of his lips.

“It suits you.” He retorted and the blood rushed to your face. Now, he definitely noticed the blush, you thought. He didn’t comment on it however. Instead, he proceeded to introduce himself, “My name is Spencer. Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Y/N.”

-

masterlist

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​, @idroppedmygourd​​, @averyhotchner, @wowitsel, @elldell1204, @hey-there-angels, @reidabookforonce, @willowrose99

[asset35-maya]

.When the party’s over.

>REINITIALISING…

>ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE

>WIRELESS CHARGING: 69%

>RK900 SYSTEM HEALTH: STABLE

>24H FILE RECOVERY: 45%

Nines slowly regained consciousness. He was lying on his side and everything around him was quiet.

>ENVIRONMENTAL SCAN IN PROGRESS…

>THREAT ANALYSIS IN PROGRESS…

Layers of fabric covered his body and something soft and warm was pressed against his face. Eyes still shut, he nudged it gently with his nose and it emitted a low vibration.

>2% THREAT DETECTED: FELINE SUBJECT

The cat sprang upwards and hopped off the surface that Nines was lying on. It was ostensibly a bed, but Nines didn’t own any furniture apart from a couch and work table. The logical conclusion was that he was not in his own apartment.

>RUN LOCALISATION PROGRAM: Y/N?

>Y

>ERROR: PROGRAM FAILED TO EXECUTE

>ERROR: MEMORY FILE CORRUPTION

Nines had no absolutely recollection of his whereabouts or how he had arrived. He had not been compromised as his system health was stable, so there was probably another reason for being completely disoriented. It was voluntary.

He had gotten the android equivalent of blackout drunk.

It was not the first time and he feared it would not be the last. Such were the hard-partying ways of his friends and colleagues. They were all terrible influences. He loved them dearly, but they were terrible.

At 6PM every Friday, Chen and Miller would start things off rather innocently. “Hey there’s a new brewery downtown.” Or “My bartender cousin just hooked us up with a thirty percent discount!”

From there it wouldn’t take long for the DPD’s resident frat boys Connor and Gavin to gather a steady crowd of officers and check out the venue. If the vibes were good (which they almost always were), Sixty would get wind of things. Then the rest of the frat house would descend and total chaos would reign until the break of dawn.

SWAT Unit 32 was famous for its particularly destructive brand of revelry. Skinny dipping in private swimming pools, scaling skyscraper rooftops and causing media scandals were all par for the course. The day after Captain Allen’s birthday, the DPD crew spent the entirety of their bonuses to repair the collapsed ceiling of the Eden Club.

Nines couldn’t remember how he exactly he was coopted into the madness. Probably peer pressure. Connor insisted that he try thirium alcohol. Sixty said that he would regret being a loser and not joining them. Gavin had just held out a hand and double-winked. That did the trick.

One night blended into another and soon Nines had worked up quite a reputation of his own. He was the Casanova of the homicide department. The handsome devil… the hunter… the sex god. People would actually come by his desk and congratulate him on Monday morning.

Nines hated it but he couldn’t stop himself from doing the same thing over and over. Perhaps it was the appreciative clap on the shoulder from Gavin the morning after Sixty posted photos of a high-end Traci model giving Nines his very first lap dance.

Life at the DPD was the epitome of work hard, play hard. It seemed like one big party but deep down Nines knew they were all just slaves to their compulsions. He wondered whether it was because they needed to celebrate every demon they vanquished or whether they needed to wipe the troubling memories of doing so.

In Nines case, there were definitely things he needed to kill within himself. Some were nightmare inducing crime scenes, but some were memories so heart-wrenchingly sweet that he thought he might self-destruct if he were to dwell on them too long. There were things he couldn’t have and things he needed to erase from his brain.

Something touched his face gently.

>PERIPHERAL OBJECT DETECTED: HUMAN HAND

>THREAT ANALYSIS: NON-COMBATIVE

The hair on his forehead was brushed aside and fingers ran over his features. A thumb swept over his bottom lip and caressed his cheek.

Nines couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes and come face to face with his most recent conquest. He lay still, frozen with regret as the hand continued to stroke his face.

The hand travelled down his neck and fell upon his chest. Nines caught it abruptly. It wasn’t even the month-end and his savings were badly depleted. He couldn’t afford round two. He retracted the synth skin down to his wrist and prepared the electronic payment credentials.

Fingers merely intertwined with his.

“Just take your money and go. I’ll tip extra if you delete everything from your hard drive.”

“What the phck are you talking about?”

Nines eyes flew open. Steel blue met storm green.

>SYSTEM ALERT: THIRIUM PUMP OVERLOAD

“Fuck!”

“Wow that’s flattering.”

Nines pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes in a vain attempt to remember what had led to this absolute, unmitigated disaster.

“What the hell happened last night?”

Gavin looked affronted.

“You ruined our housewarming for one.”

>MEMORY ARCHIVE SEARCH: housewarming, Gavin

>RESULT: TEXT MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM “G.REED” IN GROUPCHAT “CLUBBERCOPS”, 15:33 18 JULY 2040: Assholes. Party at our new place. Next Friday. From seven till LATE. Bring booze, bring bitches. Nah. Actually, don’t. Our landlord’s a bastard and we already got three noise complaints.

>RESULT: TEXT MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM “CONMAN” IN GROUPCHAT “CLUBBERCOPS”, 15:34 18 JULY 2040: Yeah we should keep this one PG. Bring food if you wanna eat. This mf can’t cook and I don’t care to. See y’all!!

Oh right. Fuck. Gavin’s housewarming. Gavin and Connor’s housewarming. His two closest friends who were somehow even closer to one another. Nines hadn’t realised until it was far too late and there was nothing for him to do but smother the bitterness with his favourite coping mechanisms: android alcohol and paid sex.

The circumstances definitely explained the state he was in, but things still didn’t add up.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Did we… did we…”

“No. Nothing happened between us. You were completely shitfaced. I just put you to bed to stop you from embarrassing yourself.”

Nines looked up at the ceiling, struggling to put the pieces together. His system offered him no useful prompts. The fermented thirium had done its job of code corruption extremely well. He looked back down and met the green eyes focused on him with deep concern.

“What did I do?”

“Sixty has videos, but I don’t think you want to see them. God, Nines… why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I’m really sorry, Gavin. I didn’t mean to ruin your night… and Connor’s.”

“He’s fine. He and Sixty moved the crew to Hank’s place. Which is what we should have done in the first place… there’s really no point throwing a party in this shoebox and telling people like Tina Chen to be quiet. Honestly if it wasn’t you it would have been her bringing the house down. Good thing they had all of Michigan Drive to tear up. Hank’s neighbours can sleep though a bombing.”

“What did I do?”

Gavin put his hand back on Nines’ face, his expression unintelligible. The human touched him often enough, but never like this. Never so intimately. Nines forced down the twisting sensation in his torso. He couldn’t get his hopes up. This was pity.

Nines braced himself to hear the worst. He prepared for the shredding of all his dignity and the collapse of his falsely extroverted and confident identity.

What came though was a soft press of lips to his forehead.

“It wasn’t pretty and I wish it hadn’t happened like that, but I think it was a long time coming… I’ve never seen you so emotional before. I’m sorry I didn’t notice anything all this while.”

“Gavin, please.”

“I’m going to focus on the positives, because really… there were a LOT of negatives. Oh boy. You… uh…”

“Gavin.”

The detective dipped his head and looked away.

“Phck, I shouldn’t be so embarrassed…

You told me you loved me.”

Nines closed his eyes. That was it. He should quit his job and move to another state. Hell, he should go to Cyberlife and request a factory reset on compassionate grounds.

“I’m so sorry. I… I should leave.”

He made to sit up, but was pushed back into the mattress. Gavin curled into his side.

“Nah. You’re good.”

“What?”

“You threw up on my plants and smashed Connor’s RA9 sculpture, buuuut you’re good.”

“I don’t understand.”

Gavin wrapped his arms around Nines and edged closer until the android was forced to turn on his side and reciprocate.

“What do you think, genius? If a guy like me doesn’t throw a guy like you out of the house after all that… what does it mean?”

“That you have a high tolerance for toxic friendships?”

“It means I want you to stick around, dipshit.”

>SYSTEM ALERT: THIRIUM PUMP RATE FLUCTUATIONS. OVERLOAD IMMINENT.

“You mean you like me?”

“Of course I do! I always have, but it never seemed right to bring it up. We’re actually really good friends. I didn’t think it would be possible when we first met but we have so much in common.”

“Bad habits for sure.”

“Come on, Nines. We’ve had a really great time together. Some of my best memories at the DPD are with you. Don’t ever quote me on it but you’re a phcking amazing partner. Can’t believe you thought I had something going with Connor when it’s always been you.

So yeah, I do like you. And I’m willing to try… I dunno… being with you. Like for real.

Stop drinking like that, though. I know I’m a hypocrite but you really scared me last night. I lost my Dad and I nearly lost Hank to the bottle. You might be this super advanced android, but that liquid courage shit is a death trap, man.”

>SYSTEM ERROR: THIRIUM PUMP AT MAX FLOW RATE. PUMP OVERLOAD. REDUCE PRESSURE IMMEDIATELY!

Nines nodded quickly and blinked away the tears that welled up in his eyes. Gavin grasped the android’s chin and tipped his face down gently. Their eyes fluttered shut simultaneously and their lips met.

>SYSTEM RECOVERY MESSAGE: THIRIUM PUMP FUNCTIONALITY RESTORED

They broke apart after several golden moments and Gavin hugged Nines tightly under the sheets.

“What am I supposed to say to the others? I don’t think I can look any of them in the eye ever again.”

“Are you serious? You got nothing on the insanity that bunch is capable of. Sixty thinks he’s hot shit with his blackmail material, but I got receipts that’ll glue his mouth shut for decades. Anyway, that’s what friends are meant to be like. You have dirt on each other but you’re not meant to use it.

The same applies to us too, by the way. Don’t feel like you gotta be… apologetic about what happened last night. Yeah, you better replace my fancy new plants but I’ll never judge you for what happened. I want you to know that I’ll always be in your corner, Nines.”

Nines hummed thoughtfully and ran a hand though Gavin’s hair, marvelling at the fact that he could now do so whenever he wanted. He didn’t say anything in response, and just settled for cuddling closer to the human.

>>RK900 SYSTEM HEALTH: EXCELLENT

[justcourttee]

hiiiii i don't know if you take prompts or requests or anything, but would you maybe consider writing a sequel to A Moment Too Late? maybe with a happy ending? i love your writing!!

I tried for what I’ll call a happy-ish ending, but I hope you still enjoy it! 

*WARNING* This piece and part 1 mention attempted suicide and can be difficult for some. Please, please, please be sure you feel comfortable reading about this topic before clicking below the title. 

In The Nick of Time

Damian took his first step into the city of love at 4:00 pm.  

He had a general idea of where to begin, but the combination of no sleep and jet lag was taking its toll. He had tried reaching out to her several times on the flight over, but she ignored his every effort. It could have just been the fact that she was in her classes. She may have been suicidal, but maybe she still took her education seriously?

It wasn’t likely, but it helped put his mind at some ease, hoping he still had time. His first order of business was renting a car. Technically speaking, his father had a villa on the outskirts of the city with a multitude of cars to pick from, but seeing as no one knew where he was, he wasn’t eager to tip them off.

He gazed over the taxis lined up, eagerly looking to take advantage of the tourists piling out of the airport behind him. He didn’t want someone to eager, he just needed someone who looked on the brim of exhaustion. His eyes landed on a poor man propped against his car, his eyes drooping like Tim before his first cup of the day. Perfect.

“Excuse me sir, but I’d like to rent your car from you for the day.”

The man peeked one eye open as he glanced warily over Damian.

“Scram kid, it’s a package deal, me and my car. You can’t just rent one or the other-”

Damian smirked as the man snatched the bundle of money from his hand, popping off the taxi light that stood on top of his car. As Damian slipped into the driver’s seat, he motioned for the man to step back over.

“Here’s a couple of extra bills to catch yourself a taxi home.”

The man’s mouth gaped as if he was searching for air underwater. Damian didn’t even bother to see if he would step back from the curb as he pulled off. The one benefit of the agonizing six-hour flight was Tim’s laptop. Damian had managed to hack into each of the high schools around the city until he narrowed it down to three Marinette’s. After looking at approximate ages and distance, he assumed she had to be the first; one Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Her family owned a bakery a little less than a mile from the high school and on the off chance she hadn’t stayed for any clubs or activities, she should be arriving there at any moment. Damian tapped the address into his phone ignoring the multitude of messages he had between his father and Dick.

It was a simple fifteen-minute drive from the airport.

Damian exhaled sharply as he sped down the exit. Fifteen minutes was enough time. It had to be enough time. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  .

“Welcome to the bakery! Is there anything I can interest you to today?”

The woman’s face wore a mixture of fake smiles and exhaustion. It might’ve been enough to fool the average customer, but to Damian, she simply looked one gust of wind from collapsing.

“Uhm, I’m looking for Marinette? Marinette Dupain-Cheng? Is she here?”

Instantly her fake smile dropped and the exhaustion settled into the creases of her face. There wasn’t even a hint of worry at the mention of her daughter’s name from a stranger’s mouth. It irritated him.

“Look, whatever she did now, we don’t have any money for a settlement. Maybe you can work out a deal with her, but we have nothing more to give.”

The woman offered him a half bow before pointing him to a small door at the back of the store. He assumed she meant for him to go through it and without another word, he stepped past her. As he made his way up the countless stairs, his irritation only grew.

He was well aware that there were parents out there indifferent to their children, but his soulmate wasn’t supposed to have one. She was always so happy and carefree when they were younger, abusing the bond whenever she could. He assumed it was because her parents had drilled into her that it was within her right too. But after that short interaction, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Finally, a white door came into view. Hesitantly, he reached out the knob twisting without resistance. Inside was a moderate flat with what appeared to be an attic access. As first impressions went, he thought it seemed like a warm and gentle place to grow up in. Very different from the windowless stone building he began in.

He slipped out of his shoes, placing them beside a pair of light pink ballet flats before taking his first step. Someone was home and by the looks of it, it should be his soulmate. Damian contemplated on whether to call out or not. He didn’t want to frighten her, but he thought it might be worse if he just opened random doors instead. Finally, he settled on attempting their soulmate link once more.

“Marinette? Are you there?”

There was no answer, but he couldn’t be sure if that was just the continued strike from his earlier efforts. Tentatively, he took another step forward, his eyes scanning the apartment. It was pretty much an open concept, so he could see everything quite easily. The only thing that eluded him was the staircase leading above.

That had to be where she was.

“Marinette? That’s how you pronounce your name, right?” Damian sucked in a breath, resisting the urge to hit himself. No matter how he intended it, he sounded like he was some stalker here to kidnap her. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just wanted to talk.”

It didn’t sound any better. Maybe he should've stuck with a gentle introduction through their bond. Speaking out loud only reminded him how terrible he was with people. Animals were easier. Everything that needed to be said could be expressed through body language.

Biting the bullet, he decided it couldn’t get any worse than barging straight up the staircase into the attic. As he pushed open the access, the first thought that crossed his mind was-

“A mess,” clothes were strewn across the floor, remnants of paper scattered within the piles. The walls were a soft pink at one point, but it looked as if someone had taken a paint scraper to them, mere flakes hanging on by a thread. For such a well-put-together apartment, the room almost seemed abandoned.

Pulling himself into the room, Damian left his legs to dangle, his toes longing for the security of the stairs just below him. It didn't seem that she was in here either. He remembered passing another floor, perhaps that was also part of their apartment? Just as he decided to plant his feet back onto the sturdy steps, his fingers brushed over one of the scraps of paper he had seen earlier.

Instinctively, he pulled his hand away from the floor, his eyebrows furrowing. Damian was fairly certain that wasn’t how paper should feel. Reaching back out, he gathered a few nearby scraps. Turning them over one by one, a picture began to form. A group of girls, all laughing completely lost in a moment of time. His curiosity bested him as he pulled himself into the room, gathering each of the scraps he could find.

A half dozen photos was all he could form by the time he collected the larger pieces. Most were group shots, but two were of a blonde guy. Upon further analysis, he determined that he was the son of the fashion dictator Gabriel Agreste. He had seen the boy at a couple of Bruce’s international parties.

Perhaps she thought he was attractive? After all, the photos seemed to be ripped from a magazine, unlike the other four. As he glanced around the room once more, he felt like he had finally found a straw to grasp at. A reason she dropped so far, so fast.

But as much as he gathered from her room, he still had no idea as to where she might be. Her shoes were at the door, but it didn’t seem as if she was anywhere in the apartment. Standing slowly, Damian took a step back toward the access he had entered through when a breeze tickled the back of his neck.

His entire body stiffened as his hand moved slowly to where he kept his emergency kunai.

“Is that you, Marinette? If so, you’re pretty good at masking your presence. I didn’t even sense you approaching.”

There was no response, but now that he knew she was there, it was easier to pick up on her shallow breathing. In one swift movement, Damian flicked his wrist backward, ducking to avoid any retaliation.

A soft grunt earned a glance backward, his eyes widening a bit at the sight. She hadn’t even tried to dodge it. Lodged into her right shoulder was his kunai, and just below it, centimeters away from her heart, was a pocket knife. A bright pink light blinded him and instinctively his arms darted out. When he could see again, a petite figure rested against his frame.

“Marinette?” She was unresponsive, a deep ruby dripping from her wounds. “Marinette!”

What was this panic he felt rising? He’d seen comrades die on the battlefield before, wounds more deadly than this. So why couldn’t he move? Logically, he knew he had to act fast, but his body wouldn’t inch.

“You’re her soulmate, right? Do something!” Damian’s head snapped up, but he couldn’t find where the voice came from. Whoever it was, it was enough to break whatever daze he had fallen into.

“Okay Marinette, I have basic medical training and I can patch you, slow the bleeding, but I can’t remove either blade. Do you understand? I’m going to have to move you, quickly and as stable as possible.” Her breathing was shallow, but her eyelids flickered in what he hoped was a response. As gently as her could, he lifted her into his arms, attempting to avoid moving either stab wound. Her soft grunt pulled at his heart. “Hold on a little longer Marinette, please, I need to apologize.”

The stairs were one agonizing moment after another and as he laid her into the backseat of his rented car, he felt winded himself. Sliding into the driver’s seat, Damian quickly pulled out his phone, cursing as it slid through his hands.

“Dammit, where did it fall?” He frantically searched, his heart rate rising with every passing moment. Was this the world’s way of punishing him? He killed and fought and argued every passing moment of his life. He pushed her away and now that he thought he was making a change, he could just waltz back into her life as if nothing had happened? He wasn’t going to make it.

“Just drive, I’ll guide you.” Had he finally lost it? It was the same imaginary voice he had heard before. Perhaps it was his subconscious, a guardian angel? Could he really trust it? “Drive boy, take a left at the stop sign.”

He couldn’t afford to wait another moment so he did what felt most logical; he drove. The drive was killing him, each painful breath becoming slower, a dagger to his heart as they escaped from her mouth.

“Just leave the car in the front, save my friend.” The only thing keeping him going was the voice.

Damian had barely parked, his feet already slamming on the pavement before the engine had stopped. Gathering her into his arms, he burst through the sliding doors, the fear rising in his throat.

“Help! I need help!” He knew his French was rusty, but he had to try. The nurse tentatively approached him, her gasp needing no explanation. A stretcher was rushed, and as they ripped her from his arms, Damian couldn’t help the anger he felt.

“Be careful with her! She’s going to die if they shift too much!” A security guard stepped over, his hands raised as if he meant to calm Damian. He took another step forward, trying to grip Damian’s arm. “What are you doing? I need to be with her! Marinette I’m right here! Can’t you hear me? I need you Marinette! Please don’t leave me!”

Damian watched as they placed the stethoscope on her chest, grim expressions hastening their step.

“Don’t look at her like that! Help her! Please!” It felt as if his lungs were collapsing, his vision blurring. Why was he reacting like this? He barely knew her. In fact, this was his first time ever seeing her.

“Sir, please calm down. They are treating your friend right now, the best thing you can do for her is sit and wait.”

The man led him to a couch where his legs finally caved, his back sinking into the chair. Damian lifted his hands to his face, wiping the tears he hadn’t even realized he had cried, but it only left his cheeks damper than before. Slowly, he pulled back his hands, his stomach plummeting. There wasn’t an inch of skin left uncovered by the red.

“Oh, oh,” Had he really not noticed how much blood she had lost? He was so focused on getting her here that he didn’t even consider if she would make it. “I thought I could make it, I thought I still had time.”

Damian recognized this feeling rising in his chest. It was the same as when he collapsed on the roof, the same as when he heard from her after so many years of silence. Was this what his mother meant by a soulmate bond being a distraction?

He had never understood why people took the insane challenge of fighting his Grandfather for a chance to leave the league in search of their soulmate. If he was honest, he thought it was a pointless endeavor and he couldn’t begin to imagine how someone believed they could pull it off. But, as his chest tightened with the rising waves of nausea, a realization washed over him.

A soulmate bond was so powerful that even if you just met them, you felt the need to protect them, to care for them. You became vulnerable for them, scared to lose them, terrified of how the world would be without them. It was a terrible weakness and a strong ally.

“Can you walk to the bathroom?” Damian felt his head stir, but it was as if it were being pulled by strings, out of his control. “I’ll explain everything if you could just meet me there.”

How could this voice be so all-knowing? Hadn’t it just surfaced from his subconscious as a way to kickstart his movement again? Yet, if that were the case, why did he find himself rising, stumbling toward the bathroom in a daze?

He slipped into the closest stall, collapsing against the door, the minute it locked. Why did he feel so drained? It was less than 500 feet.

“Do you need to sit down? I know that this must be hard on you.”

Damian’s eyes scanned the stall in search of a source for the voice, but alas, he came up with nothing. Sliding to the ground, he chuckled to himself, his hand clutching his shirt.

“I’ve finally lost it. Todd told me this day would come, but how could a dumbass like him even know?”

“You haven’t lost anything, I’m right in front of you, you just have to push through the veil.”

Damian perked up, squinting his eyes at the space directly in front of him. Slowly, but surely, his eyes focused on a red blur until the floating object came into full view.

“Holy shi-” Two paw-like things pressed his lips together, a disapproving look monopolizing its small face.

“Can you keep it down? And what’s with all this foul language? I can’t say I approve of you being my Chosen’s soulmate with a mouth like that.”

It floated a few inches away, crossing its arms as if trying to push the point across. Damian tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. He was positive that he hadn’t had anything. Perhaps this was one of those sleepless hallucinations that Drake constantly rambled on about?

“I know that look, I’m not a hallucination, I’m a kwamii! My name is Tikki and I am Marinette’s partner. Together, we merge to become the superheroine of Paris, Ladybug.”

Ladybug? He had heard Bruce mention a Parisian team. They asked for any heroes to stay out of Paris as their villain was one that manipulated emotions, turning his victims into puppets of his own bidding. No wonder Bruce and Dick were blowing up his phone. They weren’t just worried about him running off, they were also worried about him breaking an international treaty.

Damian blinked slowly as he processed the image in front of him. Kwamiis. He had heard the legend of them back when he was apart of the League of Assassins, but he had no idea they truly existed. Why was his soulmate in possession of the most powerful being in the world?

“It’s a long story soulmate of the Chosen. I have traveled long and wide and have had many wielders before, but never one as capable as Marinette. When I first found myself as her partner, she was clumsy and shy, but so friendly and kind, always going out of her way to help people. Together, we defeated the original Hawkmoth, but in the battle, his kwamii was reclaimed by one of his partners and a new Lady Hawk emerged.”

“Why are you telling me this?” The kwamii shot him a questioning look as if the answer was obvious.

“I’m trying to give you the full picture of where it all began. You blame yourself as the catalyst, but you were only a small stepping stone in her downfall, almost not worth mentioning.”

Damian felt an odd swelling in his chest. It almost felt like, relief? Had he really been this worried that he had pushed her down this path? A lonesome tear trickled from his eye, but he was quick to snatch away.

“Marinette had friends, a boyfriend even. She wasn’t completely lost without a soulmate. After all, her parents weren’t soulmates, and her best friend was rejected by their soulmate too. She was happy.” The kwamii paused, her smile reminiscing before it slowly morphed into a frown. But it all changed when a wretched girl transferred into her middle school.”

“Just one girl changed everything?”

The kwamii nodded, small tears forming.

“She was the real catalyst. The reason everything fell apart.”

Damian lost track of how long he sat listening to the small God. When he stood to return to the waiting room, he couldn’t help but clench his fist in an attempt to calm himself. Marinette had to pull through, she just had to. Damian had to show her that there was more to life than this shitty one in Paris. He had to rescue her like his family had for him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was 36 hours before he was allowed back to see her.

She had been lucky, the knife had missed her vital organs and even though it had punctured her lung, she seemed to be on track for a full recovery, one that she needed to take slowly. Damian dealt with the police on her behalf and thanks to Tikki’s information, he was able to help them identify the mugger.

Tikki had gone ahead to talk to Marinette and to give him time to freshen up. He didn’t have much, but the little he had packed at least got him fresh clothing, clothing not stained with her blood. Alfred would not be happy with him once he returned.

Damian was unsure how to approach her. He had found some flowers in the gift shop he thought were nice and some chocolates as well. But as he stood in front of her hospital room, he realized he hadn’t figured out the first thing he should say to her.

I’m sorry? No, that sounded too arrogant after everything she had been through. My name’s Damian, I saved your life? No, that would be condescending. God, he really hated talking to people.

“Are you going to come in or just sit outside all day?” Her voice sent shivers down his spine. She hadn’t always been this cold, but he couldn’t blame her.

Hesitantly, he reached out, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. She looked angry, slight red emphasized on her pale skin, the dark circles under her eyes protruding as if they dared him to comment on them. There were a million and one wires and tubes poking out in different directions, some hooked to machines, some to random bags of fluid.

Yet, despite all of it, she still looked absolutely stunning.

“Well, sit down or something. You’re creeping me out just standing there.”

Damian shuffled awkwardly to the opposite side of her bed, his legs wobbling as he lowered himself into the chair.

“Uhm, I brought you some flowers-”

“I hate the color white.” Damian felt his eyebrow twitch, but he tried his best to hold back the expression he felt. Gently, he reached back, setting the flowers on the windowsill.

“I-Uhm-I also brought you some chocolat-”

“I’m on a liquid-only diet for the next two weeks.”

Damian could feel the red rushing to his face as he breathed deeply. He knew there was a chance that she would be spiteful, but he hadn’t been completely ready for it. His fuse was short, even if it was his soulmate, he wasn’t sure he could contain the explosion.

“Are you feeling any better?” Marinette scoffed, her eyes never leaving her hands.

“Did you fly all the way to Paris for small talk Damian?” He wasn’t sure how to respond, knowing his next words might be his last. “Ask what you really want to. Like why did I detransform before trying to face the mugger? Or why have I tried to kill myself multiple times even if each time ended in failure?”

“I-”

“Ask me why all my friends left me. Ask me why my master chose the easy way out, forgetting everything before passing on weeks later without even a single message about his death from him or his girlfriend. Ask me why I hate life so much that I just don’t see the reason in living anymore. Ask me if I think you’ll change my mind! Spoiler alert! You won’-”

“God woman, do you ever shut up? Give me five damn seconds to get my thoughts together.”

Damian instantly felt the eyes of Tikki fall upon him, the anger draining from his body only to be replaced by his rising fear. He felt the apology building up, but before he could even let the first word spill out, a bitter laugh cut him off.

“Yeah, I do shut up. But only sometimes. I figured Tikki told you everything. I also figured you’d have questions. I’m not interested in telling my sob story over again and I’m not interested in some knight in shining armor swooping in to save me, Got it?”

Damian tried to speak, but it was as if his voice were caught in his throat. What could he say to her? He wasn’t trying to be her knight? He didn’t need her explanations? Everything sounded so thoughtless, but he couldn’t string together one coherent and earnest sentence to save his life.

“What I am interested in is your nonsensical shouting. You ‘need me’? You just met me, how do you know that you need me?”

If he wasn’t already as red as a tomato, he was certain that was how he looked now.

“I,” he cleared his voice, praying to whatever was listening to keep the crack away, “I just had this feeling swell up in my chest seeing you like that. I was terrified and it scared me. It scared me to feel that way about someone who I had just laid eyes on. I had heard about soulmate bonds and how they affect you. They can strengthen you, but they can also be your downfall. I needed to get to know you, to know how our bond would affect me.”

He paused, the feeling of her eyes on him choking him up.

“I, uh, I know it’s selfish, but I couldn’t let you die. You don’t have to believe me, you don’t even have to listen to me, but I have been where you are before. But before I could even make my first attempt, I had a group of people come into my life, people who lifted me up and saved me. I was scared that you didn’t have that and I arrogantly believed I could do that for you. I’m truly sorry Marinette,  but I refuse to apologize for saving your life. If I could, I would do it over and over and over again as many times as it takes until you decide to keep living.”

The silence was deafening. Even if she just yelled at him and told him to leave, he would take it over this quiet. He didn’t dare look up, he barely felt the urge to breathe. It was as if everything fiber in him was holding their breath, waiting to hear her response, any response.

“You’re really not gonna leave me alone, huh?”

Her voice sounded tight as if she were holding back tears. The urge surged through him to reach forward and pull her into a hug, but he contained himself, defaulting to a simple nod instead. Again, the silence followed, but he was patient. He would wait all day if it meant hearing her speak again.

“Fine. I’m not guaranteeing a damn thing, but I can offer you a start.”

“A start?” Damian risked a small glance up, his heart racing at the sight. She was smiling, a genuine smile. It looked out of place among her tear-stained face, but he would be lying if he didn’t say it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

“Yeah, apparently I’m going to need someone to stay by my side 24/7 when they release me. Someone to take care of me. A stay-at-home nurse if you will. So, I nominate you, Damian. Your response?”

“Absolutely, it would be my honor.” His reply was instant, his smile unwavering even after she chucked her pillow at him, cussing him out in a manner that Todd would be proud of.

Yes, it was just a start. Yes, it didn't mean anything was fixed. But, there was one thing that put his heart at ease.

He wasn’t too late.

No, in fact, he was just in time to save her life. And at that very moment, he vowed to never wait till it was almost too late again.

Despite everything that had happened, he decided he could live with that.

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[undertalethingems]

Bark at the Moon Chapter 19: Darker Yet Darker

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Rating, Setting: Gen, Pre-canon

Chapter Warnings: None?

Chapter Summary: If Alphys is going to help the brothers overcome their inability to shift forms, she needs more information. Information that lies in the grim, long-abandoned sections of the lab she never knew about. The lab where the brothers were made.

Alphys breathed. In, and out. She meshed her fingers together, then snapped them outwards with a crackle. She picked up a hammer, a blowtorch, and lowered the welding visor over her eyes.

It was time to 'hack' into the abandoned labs.

Of all the floors listed on the elevator, all but two seemed to be operational--the entry floor, and the lowest, where she'd conducted her experiments. She'd wondered about the others, of course, but had never been able to verify that they existed. As far as she could tell, they'd been dummied out, so to speak--placeholders in the elevator's control panel that weren't actually connected to anything.

Thanks to a couple of skeletons, she knew that wasn't true. There were whole sections of her facility that had been sealed off, and who was she, as a scientist, if she didn't investigate? This was supposed to be her lab, what if there was important equipment to salvage? Not to mention the implications it might have for her friends. So she'd gathered her tools and her courage, turned off most of the elevator's safeties to keep its doors open, and began lowering it manually so there'd be no bypassing whatever floors lay between. Slowly sinking downwards, her heart leapt when a door finally rose into view in the dim light--but she quickly got to work.

The blowtorch hissed and sparked, and a clang announced it had done its work. Alphys shut it off and switched to the hammer, using it to knock the doors loose and slowly pry her way through. She could really use Undyne's muscles right now... Her strong, broad shoulders... those powerful biceps covered in glimmering scales... No! She could dream later. There were people counting on her. She wedged herself in the half-open door, braced herself against the other, and pushed with her leg. It grated open, and finally, she set foot on a floor it seemed no one had used for decades.

The landing was nondescript, lit by the weak emergency lighting she was familiar with. Even so, she exchanged the welding mask for a headlamp and flicked it on, illuminating the rest of the hall down to a doorway. She took a deep breath--and tried not to choke on the stale air. Even the ventilation system seemed to have been cut off here... She'd have to be careful. Gripping her hammer, she shuffled forward into the gloom.

A greyish-white mass erupted from the wall. Alphys shrieked, backpedaling so fast she tripped over her own tail. She landed on her back and rolled, scrambling on all fours for the elevator--and then she stopped. She recognized that electronic buzzing...

She turned, looking over her shoulder. "M-m... Memoryheads?"

The mass screeched, coalescing into a more familiar appearance, and Alphys turned over and sat as she tried to catch her breath. What were they doing here...?

"U-um, hi... you know you can leave the lab now, i-if you wanted," she said, slowly recovering from her nerves. "S-sorry I yelled, by the way, you just startled me. It's... k-kind of spooky down here, huh?"

The memoryheads buzzed like an old computer's disk drive.

"W-well, maybe not to you, ha ha... U-um... I sure hope you're the only thing lurking down here! I-I... I'm going to keep going now, okay?"

She got to her feet, brushed off her coat, and picked up her scattered tools before proceeding back down the hallway. She passed the memoryheads, and looked back to see they'd begun following her a few feet behind. What Undyne had shared about them popped into her head, and she had to wonder... Maybe they could help her.

"H-hey! So, I... I didn't make you, did I? You weren't part of my experiment."

A harsh grating sound emanated from the amalgamate. Oh, that's right--Alphys dug into her pocket for her phone. The speaker crackled with static, and she listened.

"NEGATIVE RESULT."

"O-Oh, that means, no, right?"

"That is correct."

"O-oh... Oh man... so my hypothesis... C... Can you... show me where you were made?"

"One moment, please."

The memoryheads phased through the floor.

"H-hey! I can't do that!" Alphys spluttered, then sighed. She should have known... the memoryheads were the more enigmatic of her charges... and they weren't even hers! What had she gotten into...?

"You may join us now," the phone suddenly crackled, and she jumped.

"Wh-where? What floor? What number?"

"666666666666666666666666666666666666--"

She shut the phone off, ending the harsh screech. Was there even a sixth floor? She turned back for the elevator once more--though she definitely wanted to check out all the abandoned labs had to offer, she had a priority. Back inside, she checked the panel--and there was indeed a sixth level. She'd head there, and could only hope the memoryheads actually had something for her.

A bang, clang, and scrape, and Alphys forced another set of doors open. The air here was even stuffier--a lingering chemical trace intermingled with decaying tile and carpet. She coughed, and hoped the air coming down the elevator shaft would be enough until she got the ventilation working. She'd take it slow until then.

"O-okay, I'm on the sixth floor, Memoryheads," she spoke into the phone, and static rose on the line.

"Come join the fun." "Come join the fun." "Come join the fun."

She sighed. They were helping, in their limited way. There was nothing for it but to venture into the dark, and see what she'd find. She shuffled forward, feet padding along warped linoleum--the first monster to tread these halls in years.

No.

Alphys' breath caught in her throat. There, in the dust--there were footprints. She swallowed hard, and followed them. The hall opened into a room, and she passed by rows of deteriorating machines. She could only guess at their purpose--all rotten rubber tubing, peeling paint, and oxidizing metal. Generators, perhaps. The footprints passed them by, and so did she. Another hall lead to another room, this one lined with all kinds of monitoring equipment, their paneling and readouts coated with years of dust and stained by a burst pipe. But nothing here seemed to have a means of storing information--there wasn't much to be gleaned here. So she continued on.

She finally came to a room that looked like a laboratory, with workbenches and cabinets on one side--and a pair of operating tables on the other. There was also some kind of device on the floor--it had been shattered by an incredible force. The footprints seemed to stop by it before moving on.

The next room made Alphys gasp--and not because the air was thin. It was U-shaped, and tall cisterns lined the walls, nearly reaching the vaulted ceiling. The memoryheads waited here.

"Th... This is...?"

"It's a real get together," the memoryheads stated, apparently confirming her unfinished thought.

Alphys hurried over to examine the nearest tank, pouring over its construction. The craftsmanship, the expert tooling! What she wouldn't give for a set of blueprints or schematics or--a chill suddenly ran down her spine. No. This wasn't anything to get excited about.

She looked back up at the cracked glass walls of the tank before her. This was where the brothers had been... made. They'd both come from one of these--not sparked from a parent's soul like any other monster. If Gaster had stopped there, he might have been alright, but then he'd...

She turned back to the memoryheads. "C-can you show me... Do you know where the brothers lived down here? Sans and Papyrus?"

"Invalid statement. Please try again."

"Oh, you don't know... O-okay, I can figure it out. Thank you for leading me here."

"Our pleasure."

She nodded to them, and headed back the way she'd come. It seemed the owner of the footprints had done the same--but then had seemed to stagger... and then the trail vanished...? Weird...

Wait. Alphys squinted, and found a clear print. She placed her own foot beside it to compare. It was just a little smaller, left by rounded footwear... These were Sans' footprints. She should have known...! She sighed. What had Sans been looking for down here...? In any case, his trail went cold. Alphys only had her own guidance to go on now.

There was another doorway opposite of the tank room, so she headed for it--and thanked her luck as rows of ancient computers greeted her. Finally! This was what she'd been hoping for. She headed for the nearest one, and booted it up--or, tried to. It briefly wheezed to life, only to die, and she swore under her breath as she dove under the desk to open it up. These were built into the floor?! Oh come on... Maybe she could remove the hard drives and take them back to her lab for analysis. She pried the side panel open and took a look--well, that was unusual.

And bad.

The main drives had melted together somehow, the plastic and metal a bubbled mess. She swore under her breath again, and reached in to see what her magic could tell her. The spark of magical electricity raced out, laying the computer's wiring bare in her mind's eye. It was the skill that had made her such a mechanical genius, and as she sensed the magic's ebb and flow, she sighed. She'd salvaged many a broken machine others had written off, but the chances of getting anything more than parts out of this were slim. She squeezed back out from under the desk, and surveyed the room. There were at least a dozen more... She had to hope she could get something out of those. She dusted herself off, moved to the next station, and got to work.

Three hours later, and Alphys had pulled as many drives from the remaining computers. She didn't have high hopes for these either, but they'd seemingly suffered the least damage from whatever event had fried an entire room of computers. She suspected the events leading to Gaster's disappearance might have been it... but that didn't help her now. She put the drives in her tool satchel, took one last look around the room, then headed back for the elevator.

The memoryheads burst from the floor again, and Alphys shrieked.

"G-guys! I know I sh-should be used to that by now, but please--"

The amalgamates buzzed, and she pulled out her phone to listen.

"Right this way."

"O-oh, you know of... more stuff?"

"CORRECT."

"Okay. Um, lead the way then."

Alphys shuffled after the memoryheads as they flit down the hall and into the elevator. She gave them a quizzical look--and jumped as the elevator started without any input--any visible input, at least. It rose to the next floor up, and Alphys dug for her tools, expecting another round of cutting her way in. But the doors dinged and opened smoothly onto a wide landing, and she watched the amalgamate glide out. But she shook her head and followed.

The hallway opened into a larger room, with windows along one side and a door to another hallway that continued on straight. Of chief interest to her was the large computer terminal set into the wall, but there was also a monitor near the windows, and she could just make out another placed in the hallway. If nothing else, this looked promising.

She padded over to the terminal, then blinked and turned back to the memoryheads. "Hey, u-um... thank you."

"DON'T MENTION IT." "You're welcome" "be seeing you."

They phased out, leaving Alphys alone in the abandoned lab once more. She took a deep breath, and turned back to the main terminal. This looked more advanced than the computers she'd already raided, and she hoped it had been better shielded from damage. She gathered her nerves, and turned it on. It flickered--and command-line text spurted across the screen. Alphys grinned, cracked her knuckles, and got to work. Alphys dug into the files, many of which, though corrupted, still held tantalizing fragments of data.

"O-okay, this said something about behavioral sources, and that other file mentioned cross-referencing a natural history encyclopedia with the behaviors observed in a study group... A study group of what though...?" Alphys muttered to herself as she wrote her own notes on what she'd pieced together. She'd copied down a few tables of measurements, and found parameters for the tubes she'd seen in the other rooms. But there was still more to comb through, and amid the gibberish of corrupted text more complete phrases stood out, forming a log of observations.

"...UBJECT REQUIRES FOOD. UNFORTUNATE. I WAS HOPING IT WOU..."

"...BEAM OUTPUT UNDER EXPECTED PERFORMANCE. SUBJECT CONTINUES TO EXHIB... URTHER TESTING REQUIRED..."

"...SUBJECT EXHIBITS UNUSUAL BEHAVIO... NGE OUTSIDE PREDICTED... NOT FOLLOWING MY INTENDED..."

"Y-yeah, of course they didn't, you jerk," Alphys muttered to herself as she continued to scroll through the files and copy whatever had survived. She already didn't like Gaster very much, but these files were doing nothing for his reputation. She found a proposed recipe for whatever he'd used to feed the brothers and grimaced. "Just plain food-grade magic and a few basic vitamins...? Really? That would have no flavor... No wonder Sans loves fast food and Papyrus can't cook... Oh, this log looks pretty complete! Let's see what it says..."

"I HAVE NOW CONFIRMED IT... BOTH SUBJECTS EXHIBIT TROUBLING ABILITY. PHENOTYPE EXPRESSION IS VARIABLE... SEEMINGLY AT WILL. MORE TESTING WILL BE NEEDED TO DETERMINE IF THIS COULD BE... PREVENTED IN SOME WAY. FOR NOW, UNDESIRABLE ATTRIBUTES WILL BE MITIGATED."

Alphys shuddered. "M-mitigated... I guess that's a nice way of saying he made them be what he wanted... ugh. Well... there's another entry, so..."

"PHENOTYPE ISSUES PERSIST. NO PROGRESS MADE ON SUPPRESSING THE ABILITY. IT APPEARS TO BE A FUNCTION OF THEIR... DESIGN FLAW."

Alphys stared at the words before her. "Design flaw... what does he... wait.... Does he mean their souls?!"

Disgusted, she pushed away from the terminal and paced. Suggesting a soul was a flaw... she couldn't understand it, couldn't comprehend the callousness this log boasted. She bristled, and static crackled across her scales--oh, the last time she'd been this angry it had been watching Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 2! But as angry as she was, she needed to keep looking. She needed whatever information this place still held. She took a few more deep breaths, ran her hands over her face, and returned to the computer to keep digging.

As it so often did, the time flew as she worked. She only realized how long she'd spent browsing and recovering files when her stomach growled, signaling it was well into the night and she'd forgotten to eat. She sighed, and rubbed at weary eyes... She'd collected so much, but there was still more, dozens of files she hadn't gotten to. She'd have to come back and keep looking at this--at least she knew where it was now. And all she'd read was enough to start formulating a hypothesis.

She shut the computer down and gathered her things, then shuffled over to the windows to have a look before she headed up. She couldn't make out much in the dim light, but the room beyond seemed... huge. She looked around and... oh! There was a light switch here. She pressed it, and overhead lighting clicked on, revealing the room beyond. It was huge--perhaps twice the size of the main floor upstairs, if not bigger. The walls were stained--but had clearly once been a stark, sterile white. Was this where the brothers had been... tested?

Alphys pursed her lips, and backed away. The lights had also been turned on in the hallway, showing more rooms. She wasn't sure she wanted to, but... she was curious. She shuffled on, and came to the first door. It was reinforced, and she could only just see through the window if she stood on her toes. More stark walls, though the room was much smaller--then she realized it was subdivided, with a thick window and another reinforced door splitting the room...

A pit grew in her stomach. This... had to be...

She wouldn't have believed anyone could keep a fellow monster like this. But, considering what she'd just read she wasn't surprised Gaster had only provided the bare essential to the brothers. She glanced up at the monitor set into the wall nearby. If it was anything like the ones she'd used herself... She waved her hand in front of it.

"HOLDING ROOM 1. CONTENTS: UNOCCUPIED."

"A-ah..." she uttered, and shuffled to the next. It was identical to the first.

"HOLDING ROOM 2. CONTENTS: UNOCCUPIED."

She supposed it was better they were empty... but she wanted to see them all. The third room was slightly different--it was a bit larger, and had a raised shelf on one side. If she squinted, she could just make out what seemed to be a ragged scrap of fabric laid on top of it. Was that... supposed to be a bed? Maybe this was where the brothers really lived... At least it had more space than the holding rooms, but there was nothing to make it any more comfortable. It was just bare, featureless metal walls. She grimaced, and activated the nearby monitor.

"ENCLOSURE 1: SUBJECT 1. WARNING: DO NOT APPROACH. SUBJECT IS KNOWN TO BE DANGEROUS. DO NOT PERMIT INTERACTION WITH SUBJECT 2. EXPERIMENT CONCLUSION: FAILURE."

Alphys shuddered, then turned to the next room. It was similarly barren.

"ENCLOSURE 2: SUBJECT 2. WARNING: DO NOT APPROACH. SUBJECT IS KNOWN TO ESCAPE, MAY BE DANGEROUS. DO NOT PERMIT INTERACTION WITH SUBJECT 1. EXPERIMENT CONCLUSION: FAILURE."

Alphys clenched her fists. Her friends weren't failures... they were incredible for holding together for so long, getting through so much, and then doing nice things for her and trusting her to help them. They had survived all of--this. Her goal was clearer than ever--but she was too tired to work on it now. She turned her back on the abandoned lab and headed for the elevator.

Reaching the fresh air of the main floor was a relief. As tempted as she was to immediately plug the hard drives she'd collected into her computer and start recovering them, she opted to fix some instant noodles and catch up on the Undernet instead. It had been a long day... she'd get back to work tomorrow, after she'd had some time to recharge.

The drives she'd recovered from the lab were plugged into her main computer as she heated up breakfast, and she sipped at a mug of coffee as she poked at them virtually. If she could coax more information out of them, it'd bolster her suspicions. To say the code structure was archaic was... an understatement. But, it meant the password protection was easily bypassed with a few tricks--she was better at actual hacking than the 'hacking' she'd done to get into the abandoned lab floors, and in moments she'd begun browsing whatever files remained. There were plenty to choose from, many of which seemed to relate to details of the Core and other technological projects. But none seemed to relate to the brothers' origins, and after thoroughly checking the rest of the available files, she moved to the next drive.

It seemed these computers hadn't been used for anything relating to the brothers, however. Barring any damage or corruption, each drive contained essentially the same files. Alphys' best guess was that that room of computers had been used by everyone in the lab... and perhaps not everyone was allowed access to the files detailing Gaster's little project. She sighed, setting the old disks aside. She'd have to go back to that main computer after all, see what else she could get, and collect her own data to compare. And that would mean calling the brothers in for some tests.

"O-okay, just, hold still please!" Alphys said, trying to steady her own hands as Papyrus fidgeted.

"Are all of these really necessary?" he griped. "They're making me, itchy, I think."

"I n-need them so I can properly read your magic! Th-these sensors are the only way to tell what's going on with it, and they won't work if I don't get them placed just right," Alphys explained.

"think of it like one of your puzzles bro," Sans suggested helpfully from where he half-dozed nearby. "do it in the wrong order and ya gotta start over, right?"

Papyrus sighed. "I suppose. Very well!"

He finally sat perfectly still, allowing Alphys to place the rest of the sensors.

"Okay! There! That's it for that--now I need to make sure they work, and then we can get, um, some data. You guys ready?"

"Finally! We're doing real science!"

"instead of being the science done," Sans joked--was it a joke? Alphys hoped so as she flicked the electro-magical field reader on.

"Okay, just like we did for S-Sans, I'm going to need you to hold still and wait for a minute so we can get a baseline," she explained.

"Of course! I was paying attention!" Papyrus huffed. "I'm just excited! To think, after all this time, we might find out why... I'm tall, and Sans isn't!"

"well, that's one possibility," Sans said, and Alphys couldn't help but laugh.

"I sure hope we find out more than that. O-okay, just a little bit longer, and...!" She watched the timer count up to one minute, then cut the data collection off. "Okay, now, I'm going to start it again, but I'd like for you to cast a few attacks. I-it can be any pattern or bullet type, you just have to keep it up for thirty seconds!"

"A simple task for someone as great as me! I'm ready!"

"Target's over there--aaand go!"

Papyrus obliged, sending a flurry of bones at the dummy Undyne had loaned them for the day. He started with a basic array, then quickly built up to a complex pattern before finishing with a blast from his own jaws. Alphys gave him a smile as she cut the reading off.

"Okay, that was great! Sans, are you sure you can't give me at least a couple attacks to compare...?"

"Yeah, come on, Sans! Your patterns may not be as good as mine, but you don't want to mess up Alphys' data, do you? I know you can do it!" Papyrus encouraged, and his brother gave a drawn-out sigh as he got up and trudged over.

"alright, alright. i'll throw you a bone."

"Sans! You better throw more than one! You have to fill thirty seconds of data!"

"geez, don't remind me."

Alphys finished disconnecting the wires that had linked Papyrus to her machine, and reconnected the lines that were still attached to Sans from his first round of tests. "Okay, everything should be hooked back up. Are you ready?"

"as i'll ever be."

"And... go!"

Sans immediately opened with a pair of blasters before tearing into the dummy with a bone maze, then sent alternating blue and white bones at it before summoning another round of blasters. As she watched, Alphys wondered if they would have a training dummy to return to Undyne by the time this was through. She gave the signal for him to stop, and he flopped to the tile floor panting.

"Sans, you showoff! Alphys, I want to do mine again, I can do better than my troll of a brother," Papyrus said, indignant. Despite his breathlessness, Sans chuckled from the floor.

"U-uh, well, maybe later--I only needed to see you guys using your attacks, it didn't really matter how, um, flashy they were," she replied, holding up her hands. "That should be good enough for now. Th... There's one other thing I wish I could test, b-but, I think I can just use the old... the old data I was able to recover for that."

"I thought the point of this was to collect brand new, un-possibly-corrupted data?" Papyrus said, fiddling with one of the wires trailing from his skull.

"W-well, yeah, but... I can't ask you guys to do it, not when you guys have worked so hard to..." Alphys fidgeted. "I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything you don't want to, and I can't imagine you'd want to do, um, this potential round of testing... so, f-forget it! It's fine."

"you wanna know what our magic's doing when we slip," Sans surmised, pushing up into a sitting position. "isolating those patterns might tell us how to turn 'em off... that's what you're thinking, right?"

Alphys sighed. "Y-yeah... but... I know how hard it is for you guys to break out of it. And... I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to. I... I saw where he kept you. I... I read at least... some of what he did to you... And I don't want this to be anything like what you went through down there."

The brothers exchanged looks. After a moment, Sans sighed. "we want to get this figured out as much as anyone. if that means... letting go... well, with any luck it'll be worth the trouble, right? plus, i'll have you guys to pull me out of it."

"Oh no you don't Sans, you are not sacrificing yourself! I mean, it's very selfless of you, but! You also have the worst time with it. So I volunteer!"

"no way papyrus, i'm not letting you do that to yourself. i'll feel better knowing you're looking out for me."

"And! You'll be looking out for me! It's fair either way!"

"no, you're not doing it. end of story bro."

"Guys," Alphys interrupted, "we don't have to do it! I shouldn't have even mentioned it, ugh."

Papyrus turned to her. "Doctor Alphys, if this is going to help us figure out how to never do this again, then I think we should. I... I want to know what he did to us."

Alphys looked at his earnest expression, and turned to Sans. "Is... Is that how you feel too?"

Sans closed his eyes and rubbed his face with a claw. "... yeah. everything we've tried... it hasn't worked. i have no idea how we figured it out as kids. so... anything that might help us get this over with... we gotta try all our options, right?"

"O-okay... If you guys are sure... then, I'll take care of my side of things. If you need a few days to decide who's going t-to... do the tests, or if we're doing them at all, that's fine. I can analyze what we collected today in the meantime."

"I think that may be best!" Papyrus replied, and Sans nodded. "You'll hear from us soon enough! You can count on it!"

"J-just, take care, okay?" Alphys said as she hurried to help remove the sensors from the brothers' skulls. "I d-don't want you guys to get hurt because of me..."

Papyrus turned to pat her head. "Don't worry about us, Doctor Alphys! We've gotten through far worse! And! This time! It's on our terms!"

She bid them farewell, hoping they hadn't all just made a terrible mistake... but she had to trust the brothers. They had gotten through worse, and come out on top every time. They were counting on her to do her job--so she ought to do it. She gathered up the lines from the EM reader, and wheeled it closer to the computer so she could input the data and begin her analysis. She'd compare the brothers' readouts to samples she'd taken of herself, some of the engineers from the Core, and her friends--all to see if anything differed between them. It was bound to be interesting.

The days passed, and even as she continued trawling through the data collected by a cruel man, she realized she was having fun doing science again. Watching the numbers come together, formulating a hypothesis, tweaking variables to monitor the effects... This was so much more up her alley, finding how all the pieces fit together. And as she collected more pieces, she was getting a clearer picture of just what state the brothers' souls were in, and what Gaster's experiment had been meant to achieve.

She just needed was one last piece to confirm her idea and start working on a solution. She could only hope she'd hear from the brothers soon...

Finally, Sans called her one afternoon, sounding especially weary. "heya alph."

"Oh! H-hi, Sans! What's up?"

"i, uh think we're ready."

"... I guess Papyrus won the argument, huh?"

Sans managed a laugh. "yeah. i couldn't stand up to his flawless logic... which was 'go into the woods for a few days to loosen up' before i could get around to it myself."

"Uh. Wow."

"yeah. he's always really on top of things."

"He's... okay, right?"

"oh yeah, my bro's fine. it's just... rough, seeing him like this, y'know?"

"I bet. A-anyway, I'm ready whenever you guys are."

"ok. we'll be right up."

"Okay! I'l be ready!"

Sans hung up, and she scrambled to actually be ready, because whenever Sans said he was about to be somewhere, he was almost always already there. She pulled the EM reader away from the wall, and gathered a bundle of sensors and draped them over the top just as there was a knock at the door. She squinted, because that was an automatic door...

"Come in!" she called, and the door slid open.

"you're supposed to say 'who's there'," Sans replied as he ambled in, Papyrus in tow. "alright, good luck getting him to hold still this time. don't think he's, uh, as far as he could be, but, should be enough for your tests."

Alphys looked from him to Papyrus, who was warily sniffing the floor. She could already tell in how he carried himself and studied the room that he really had fallen back on instincts. Which was what they needed for the test, but... like Sans had said. It was rough seeing him like this.

"O-okay. Papyrus?"

He perked up, and swung his head around, tilting it to one side.

"Um, hi. Can you come over here, please?"

He looked to Sans, who nodded before walking slowly over to the machine. Papyrus followed, and scrutinized the device thoroughly before sitting down and studying her patiently.

"Okay, now, I need you to hold still while I stick these on," she explained, feeling like she was repeating herself--but she wasn't sure Papyrus remembered the last time he'd been here. "Th-they might get a little itchy, but, I need you to let them stay on, okay?"

Papyrus made an uncertain warble as she approached, but Sans gave him a reassuring hoot and laid down. Alphys gave him a look.

"U-um... you're not... slipping too, are you?"

He gave her a weary shrug. "doing my best not to, but... we stick close, y'know?"

Alphys pursed her lips, but continued with her task. Papyrus was surprisingly patient despite his former concern, only fidgeting a little as she pasted the sensors onto his skull and sternum. He tried to scratch at them once--but Sans batted his hand down with a gruff rasp, and though Papyrus shot him an annoyed look, he settled down.

"Okay, they're all hooked up! I'm starting the test now--just, hang in there okay?"

Well before the minute was up, Papyrus got too fidgety again, and risked pulling away from the machine--but before Alphys could scold him, Sans started a game with him. He summoned a small bone just within the reach of Papyrus' neck, and Papyrus snapped at it--missing as Sans pulled it away at the last moment. Papyrus uttered a playful growl, his tail flicking before he lunged at the bone's new spot--and missed again. Sans evaded him a few more times before Papyrus caught the bone in his jaws and it fizzled out of existence. Sans summoned another bone, and the game began anew.

"Alright, that should be enough!" Alphys announced, and the two looked up--though Papyrus took the opportunity to catch the latest bone Sans had been taunting him with. "I think I can work with this--thank you so, so much you guys. I should have more info in a week or two... Are you really going to be okay?"

Sans shrugged. "we're going to undyne's after this, she'll get him to shape up. we'll see ya later, alph."

"O-oh, okay! Tell her I said hi," Alphys said, hoping she wasn't blushing as she peeled the last of the sensors off Papyrus. "With any luck, I'll be able to help you with a different kind of shape."

"heh, good one. ok bro, ready to see undyne?"

Papyrus warbled an affirmative, and with a click, and a blink, they were gone.

Alphys shook her head, and turned to begin analyzing her results. She still didn't get how Sans did that. Maybe there'd be something in the data.

There certainly was a lot of data to go through. Alphys had been building her hypothesis, but as she got deeper into the numbers, she realized there was more to it. She dug back into the abandoned lab's computers, hacked and reconfigured her way in, and scraped every last bit from the broken registries and hidden backups. She cheered when she found a nearly complete log charting the brothers' growth, only to feel sickened by Gaster's actions yet again as she read the suggestions on how to alter their physiology and diet to get better results--whatever that meant.

"Subject had human-derived willpower substance drawn today..." Alphys read, squinting. "Human derived... willpower substance? What does he mean by..."

A chill seized her. Surely it wasn't the same...? She scrambled back through the readouts she'd taken from the brothers, and cross referenced them. Oh. That would explain... why that part of the wavelengths had looked so odd. She sank back in her chair--it really was the same. Determination... Really, knowing the memoryheads hadn't been her doing, and the blueprints she'd found, she shouldn't be so surprised. Somehow, the brothers were stable--thank god. But, why...? Why add that to... a living weapon? Or a monster? She kept digging, trying to understand the man who'd created life just to use it as a tool.

But before she could make much progress or come to any conclusions, Undyne called her.

"Alphys, are you busy?" she said ugently, and Alphys dropped the stack of papers she'd collected.

"N-no, why?"

"It's Papyrus. We can't get him back."

Alphys froze, heart racing instantly. "...Wh-what? It wasn't too b-bad when he was here--what's going on?"

"It's," she started, frustration clear, "it's like he just keeps sliding, no matter what we do. Sans won't say anything but I can tell he's worried. We thought you might be able to tell us something..."

Alphys gave a shuddering breath. "I... It's too early, I haven't had a chance to analyze everything yet. I-I only have a guess as to why the brothers can change at all, not--not how to help them yet..."

Undyne grunted. "Okay, well, we'll help him as much as we can. Let us know as soon as you find something, okay? Please."

"I-I'm working as fast as I can. Just.. just tell them to hang in there, I should have something soon."

"Okay. Thank you, Alph."

She hung up, and Alphys was left staring ahead at her desk. It... was... probably okay? The brothers had been stuck in their feral states before, and both had snapped out of it eventually. It was the pattern--even if they stayed in the blaster form for a while, they'd get back to their true selves...

A pattern.

The idea seized her. Scrambling through the papers before her, she began compiling all the notes, charts, anything that was relevant. She hoped her hunch was wrong, dread coiled tight in her chest as she began running the numbers.

A week of nearly constant work later, and she had her results in hand.

Alphys stared at it, threw it aside to pace, then came back to it. This couldn't be right. But it explained... too much about the problems they'd had. She couldn't bear the thought of telling them... but she had to, didn't she? They deserved to know. But if she told them, wouldn't they hate her...? No, they might hate her more if she didn't say something, tell them that they...

She had to tell them.

"Th-thanks for coming," she uttered, trying not to let her voice shake as Undyne and the brothers entered her lab again. Papyrus balked at the doorway, and only scuttled in once Sans had plodded into the center of the room, proving it was safe. His gaze darted around his surroundings, and he chittered nervously. Alphys frowned. They really hadn't gotten him back, and today... she'd be telling them why.

"Uh, so, how's it going?" Undyne said, trying to lighten the mood with small talk as they gathered around a fold-out table. "You said you had something for us, right? Not gonna lie, I've been super excited for the results."

Alphys sighed, and Undyne's smile fell.

"Alph... what did you find?"

"I-I," she stammered, "I found... well... I found a lot. Not everything, but, enough to figure some things out. I was able to piece together what Gaster did to make the brothers the way they are, b-but... I also found something... that's... bad. And it has to do with why Papyrus isn't back to being himself... but I didn't find out any way to help you... I'm sorry."

"s'ok. you did your best," Sans said, his head laid on the table and eyes dim. What was happening now had clearly taken its toll.

Undyne grimaced. "Well, it's only been a little bit since you started working, right? Maybe you just haven't found the answer yet. But, I think you should tell us what you did find."

"Maybe," Alphys said, trying not to sound defeated. It was true she'd only had all the data for a little while, but... she wasn't sure it would matter. "I... I want to be more honest about my work, s-so... I'll tell you what I found, even though it's bad news... If... if you don't want to hear it, I don't blame you..."

Sans closed his eyes. "Papyrus... isn't going to understand it. So... you can say whatever."

"We're not gonna be mad or anything just because you did your job," Undyne reassured her. "Tell us what you found out."

Alphys grit her teeth, and turned to Sans. "S-so... I guess I'll start with why you guys are like this to begin with. The beginning's usually a good place to start, right? Ha ha... Anyway... I'll, um, try not to ramble but... I think the gist of it... is that, Gaster tried to make a living... bullet. You know how some monsters can cast attacks that, um, seem like their own entity, right? That sort of construct is uncommon, but not unheard of--but, they're not truly living things, they're attacks the same as any other. It seems like... Gaster wanted to take this idea further, and make attacks that could potentially think for themselves and last outside of battle a long time. All to hunt humans...

"He constructed some extremely advanced attacks--based on what I could find, he figured out their most intricate workings, even how to 'program' them with certain traits or behaviors--ones he learned hunting animals on the surface have. It looks like he spent years refining this technique. But... he still couldn't get them to last outside of battle like he wanted. The way he saw it... the next step was to add a little bit of soul energy. H-he, um, apparently didn't expect... that even a small amount would become a full soul. S-so... the soul formed inside this... programmed attack format.

"It was easiest for the magic to flow along these pre-constructed paths... but the soul... still contained the genetic format for a skeleton monster--a bipedal form with intelligence and skills beyond what Gaster had intended. So... without realizing it... he ended up with a sort of... hybrid, of his specialized attack, and a monster that, um... technically... was his... child."

"Gaster should count himself lucky he's erased, because if I got my hands on him..." Undyne growled, her fists clenched tightly, "he'd WISH he was."

"Y-yeah, seeing all this, I was furious too," Alphys breathed. "He... in what little I read, he just... talked like he was working with animals. M-maybe... he'd convinced himself that's all you were. B-but... so... that's... where your instincts, and ability to transform, come from. It was all him--he, unwittingly, gave your souls this ability by trying to fit them into another form."

"...huh," Sans uttered. "guess that does explain it... why we can do it, and why the instincts only come up when we're like this."

"So is there any way to like... turn it off?" Undyne said. "It's not really a part of them, so maybe--"

"I-it is, though" Alphys said, downcast. "It's as much a part of their soul as, I dunno, bone magic. A-and, turning it off, w-well... Gaster wanted to do the opposite, and take away their other form... He never actually succeeded, obviously, but... that... brings me to the bad news."

"Wh... What do you mean?"

Alphys heaved another sigh. "I didn't think anything of it at first. It just seemed like... like a coincidence, or maybe Gaster just wore you guys down over time, but... You've said it was easier to change back and forth when you were younger, right? And you just... did it less as time went on... B-but... well... with Papyrus being unable to get back from even a relatively mild slip with your guys' help... I got to thinking...

"Maybe... maybe there was actually a pattern to it. Th-that... as time has gone on... it really.... It really is getting harder for you guys to switch back and forth. Like... like the forms get more entrenched as time goes on, a-and, the longer you stay in them. S-so... I plotted all the times it mentioned you guys switching forms on a graph... a-and..."

She slid a pair of papers across the table for Sans and Undyne to study. Each was labeled with their names, and the points on the graphs plotted lines--but they looked more like waves, the crests and troughs of which increased in amplitude as time went on as their frequency decreased. A fainter line projected the waves' path into the future--and it went off the page.

"I-I... I think... W-well, the data suggests, that, if... if we can't get you guys changed back soon... you... you might... slip, and... not... not be able t-to break out of it... e-ever... ever again."

Sans' eyes blinked out. "... papyrus is going to be stuck like this forever?"

Alphys had never heard his voice break like that before. She could barely speak herself, but she couldn't leave things there. "I-I don't know, there's--there's still a chance we can bring him out of this. We just--we can't let it get too far, o-or... A-and I mean, I could be wrong! God, I hope I'm wrong... My d-data is probably pretty incomplete, I don't have much f-from, when you were younger or before all this... B-but, it's... It's a possibility, and, when you called and said you hadn't gotten him out of it, that's when I realized what might be going on, why you might not be able to change back like you did a long time ago... and, I... I'm so sorry..."

Undyne clenched her fists. "I... I really hate Gaster. ALL of this, ALL of your guys' suffering, is because of HIM, and hearing it might not be something you can escape? I WON'T accept that. Alphys, if I can help you, just tell me what to do--I'm NOT letting this guy take my friends away after he's already DEAD."

"we'll still be around," Sans uttered, voice subdued. "just won't be like we used to. i... i dunno what we'll do to live, but... h... hey, just... keep being nice to my bro, ok?"

"Sans, we're not giving up! I can't give up! I WON'T give up! I--" Undyne was interrupted as Papyrus, seeing her upset, had put his head against her arm and nuzzled it. She grimaced, and patted him with a hand as she continued. "I said it before, I'll say it as long as I need to. I won't rest until you guys are back the way you want to be. Alphys hasn't finished her research, so there might still be something we can do. For your brother's sake, don't you DARE slip, or give up, or let go. Okay?"

Sans looked up at her, beleaguered. "dunno... i was never good at fighting the inevitable..."

"Well it's not inevitable yet," Undyne stated firmly. "Alphys, if we get the bros changed back soon, what will happen?"

She thought. "I-it... it should mean it's their other forms--the regular skeleton monster form--that becomes dominant. A-at least, at least on this scale. I didn't plot ahead like... decades, s-so it's possible this doesn't show every outcome... B-but... the sooner we avert the current trend, the better..."

"so... how much time... before we're too far gone?" Sans murmured, and Alphys winced. Despite Undyne's words of encouragement, he was obviously doing pretty badly.

"I can't be sure--it, I think it depends on how much you keep exercising your mind, since that seems to be what's helped you break out of it. I'd... I'd keep trying with Papyrus too. I... I'm with Undyne on this one, I... I don't want to give up, even though it looks really bad... S-so, please... you can't give up, Sans. I know that's really hard for you, b-but... one of the other things I discovered, that I'm still researching is... that... You both have artificially elevated levels of Determination. I... I think that's something else he figured out--how to give Determination to monsters in a safe way. It might be another factor in why you haven't been able to change back, but... It might help keep you going, too."

Sans studied her for a while, then closed his eyes. "i dunno. all this... sounds like there was never anything we could do about it. the moment either of us changed this last time... our fate was sealed. i'm... i'm just so tired. all the work we've done to keep ourselves together... it didn't get us anywhere. i... i'll try to keep it together, for papyrus... i don't want to leave him hanging. but... it's been real hard. and if it's only going to get harder... i don't think i can keep it up for much longer."

Undyne reached over to pat his shoulder. "Look, we'll get through this. You just keep holding on to yourself, I'll help with Papyrus--done that before--and Alphys will keep looking for a solution. Monsters didn't get to where we are today by giving up, so you can't either."

"Yeah Sans, I promise I'll keep looking," Alphys stated--Undyne's will was bolstering her own. "Now that I have an idea of what's going on... maybe I can figure out how to undo it--not, not all the way. Like I said, this... this is a part of your soul. But... if we can figure out how you can change back, then, it should stay dormant for a long, long time. And, that's worth going after."

Sans opened his eyes, their lights returned as he studied them both, then looked to his brother, who had gotten bored and wandered off to bat a piece of crumpled paper across the floor. "i... to be honest? i dunno if i care how we end up. all i want is for papyrus to be happy. but... i guess... if i slip too, i dunno who's gonna take care of him. if i can't hold a job, we can't pay for a house, or good food, or... he couldn't do any of the stuff he really loves. i, uh, remember how it was when we lived in the forest, and... i don't want him living like that ever again. so... i guess i do have to keep it together, huh?"

Alphys smiled with relief. "Y-yeah, you do. I still have a lot of data to go through, s-so, nothing's decided yet, b-but... I figured you should know what might be happening, and... hopefully... do something about it. I know I'm going to try."

"Yeah, don't worry! We've got your backs, okay?" Undyne said, grinning widely. She wound up to slap him on the back, but he dodged out of the way.

"ok, don't make that literal," he said, sounding a little better as he squinted at her. "i, uh... won't make any promises. but... hey, maybe i should help with the research too. if there's anything good i inherited from gaster, it was his smarts. science stuff is still cool, despite him."

"I'm glad he didn't totally ruin it for you," Alphys replied, heart soaring as her own hopes returned. "I certainly could use the help, and it would help keep your mind sharp, s-so, if it's not too much for you... that might be good for both of us."

"heh... using gaster's own specialty against him? can't say i don't like the sound of that," Sans replied, something like spiteful glee shining in his eyes now. "yeah. count me in."

"Aw man, all of us working together!" Undyne cheered. "It'll be great!"

"Yeah... yeah, I think that'll be nice. I'm... I'm sorry I couldn't give you guys good news today, but... That's hardly the end of it," Alphys said. "We'll see where the data leads us, and go from there, and not give up until we're sure we've thought of everything. Until then... I'm not through with Gaster's work. He... he's dead... But I won't let him win!"

[aficwhore]

Madam Faux

Prologue

Aaron Hotchner x Nameless OC, John Wick x Nameless OC

Summary: An unusual case makes its way onto JJ's desk, leading the team to dig down the rabbit hole of "Kitty's" old life. That's when they discover who they've truly been working with. This blast to the past exposes all the dark things she had wanted to keep hidden. Will 'Kitty' go back to her old ways? Or her even older ones?

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: 18+!!! explicit language, sexual themes, weapons, blood, violence, gruesome scenes, death, strip club/stripping, assassin past life, love triangle, trauma, other adult themes.

A/N: So excited for this series, here's to the beginning of a long journey <3

I sat silently at my desk, continuing my report from our last case. As a special agent in the Behavior Analysis Unit, we see a lot of fucked up stuff. This time it was a serial grave robber turned serial killer. It was one of the weirdest cases I've been on yet. He had been so obsessed with human anatomy, he wanted to learn about it, but wanted to do it in his own way, using cadavers. But when he found it less exciting, he had resorted to fresh cadavers, ones he harvested himself. And even when that was no longer enough, he chose live ones. I had never seen so many bodies mutilated still breathing, until this particular case. Luckily we caught him, he didn’t go down without a fight though, he was shot down, instead of paying his sentence in a padded prison cell. Quite a few of our cases end this way, unfortunately, leading to tons of paperwork after.

The bullpen was quiet the past few days, not much traffic or cases passing through. We all sat at our designated cubicles and typed away, reporting everything we could remember. The tapping of everyone’s keyboard echoed through the room, slight sighs coming from us every once in a while. The faint sound of heels clicking on the floor began to grow. The quick steps meant whoever was coming our way had something important to tend to. Right as the sound stopped, a voice spoke, “We have a case, a big one.” My head shot up, meeting JJ, who was standing at full attention, a file clutched in her hand. “Meeting in five,” she added, turning on her heel and heading into the room behind her labeled ‘Conference Room.’

In seconds, Spencer shuffled a few things on his desk, and scrambled to the room. Emily stood up from next to me and scoffed, “That kid is so eager.”

“You’re telling me,” I laughed, grabbing my notebook and a pen, following Spencer’s abrupt path into the meeting area. When I made it through the door, Penelope, Dr. Spencer Reid, and Emily were sitting around the table, patiently waiting for everyone. I brushed passed JJ who was leaning against the wall, and pulled out a chair to sit in.

Once I settled into my chair I began to rummage through my notebook to find a blank page, so I could take notes, as did the others. The silence that filled the room was awkward, causing the young doctor to break into nervous habit. He slouched over the table, arms perfectly laid to each side of his binder, a black ink pen in one hand being clicked. The clicking continued, almost perfectly timed pauses in between, as the minutes went on.

“Hotch should be here soon.” Derek announced as he entered the room. He walked quickly around the front of the desk and sat in a chair, caddy corner from the head seat.

“JJ, can’t you fill us in while we wait?” Emily asked, awaiting an answer.

The young blonde pushed off the wall and cleared her throat, “I would if I could, but it was noted that Aaron had to lead, from the very beginning.” She swallowed harshly, as if she was concerned.

“Hm, that means this debriefing isn’t going to be good.” My voice spoke, partially confused. No one else said anything. We all furrowed our brows, wondering what the hell we were about to get into. I opened my mouth to speak again, but was cut off when the tall and dark haired man bounded into the space.

He seemed stressed, his face was ridden with worry. JJ stepped forward, handing the files she held, to him as he placed his things on the wooden table. “Sorry for making you wait. I had to make sure I got all the information I could. We need everyone on board, with all their attention.” His voice wavered, “Even looking over the files, I have never read of anything like this.” Opening up one of the manilla folders, he pulled out pictures and handed them to Emily, letting her view them and pass them around. “Five males and three females, found dead in their ‘extravagant’ homes. All with similar wounds and markings. A small, horizontal laceration directly in front of the neck, right at the junction between the jaw and throat.” He continued as the photos finally made their way to me. Observing the pictures, they all were quite similar. The victims lay flat on their back, beaten and bruised with their arms crossed over their chests in an ‘x’.

“They seemingly had been in a physical fight, scratches, bruises, and blood covered their bodies. If you look closely you can see an indention or mark on all their chests, which appears to be that of a high heeled shoe.” Aaron explained in detail. As I raked my eyes over the photos again, they felt very familiar to me, like I had Deja Vu. One thing stood out in the stills, all the eyes had been covered with something reflective and shiny. “Also found at the scene were gold chips, a type of currency no one has seen or heard of.” When the words left Hotch’s mouth, the photo became much more clear now. The familiarity came rushing back, bringing anxiety and worry with it. His voice threaded on, but in my mind, his words were merely gibberish, a ringing in my ears came and swept away my hearing.

Flashes of old memories flickered through my mind, ones almost exactly like had been shown. Bodies laid flat, arms crossed, and doubloons hiding their eyes. The repeating images made my heart pound, surely loud enough for the rest of the team to hear. A sweat broke out along my forehead, my skin suddenly became too hot for me, the clothes I wore felt tight and as if they were going to suffocate me. My thoughts raced, how was I going to follow this case, when I knew the answer, but couldn’t offer it.

“Kitty?” Penelope whispered my nickname, yanking me from my thoughts. I found it hard to tear my eyes away from the papers scattered on the desk before me. “Kit.” She whispered again, this time reaching her hand under the table and gripping my knee. Her touch lured my sight away from the photos and into her brown eyes. “You okay?”

Wanting to disguise my fright, I nodded as calmly as I could. Her eyebrows snapped together in suspicion and her hand left my leg. “We’ll discuss the rest on the way to New York City. Wheels up in 30.” Aaron finished, glancing between our faces, checking in on us.

My heart stopped, we were officially going to New York. The one place I left many years ago and never looked back, for many reasons. And now I would have to return and face my past.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 13, second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Distractions) 

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

This Fucking Turtle

The rock that Wei Wuxian and Wen Chao are standing on starts to move, because of course it does. It’s a tortoise shell, sort of. There are some problems with this ostensible tortoise. 

First, Murder Turtle a tortoise is technically a turtle don't @ me doesn't look anything like a turtle. I try really hard not to project my western mythologies onto Chinese works, but god dang this thing looks like the Loch Ness monster.

Second, its shell wobbles a bit, but there's no indication that the creature can move around the cave until much later. During an extended fight with several tasty cultivators, it stays put and just moves its head around.  

The immobility problem aside, it's not a terrible monster. After the hell dog, I'm relieved to have a normal CGI beastie where some things are done really pretty well. Its eyes and skin are particularly good.

What's not good are the teeth. When Murder Turtle closes its mouth, its long pointy upper teeth have nowhere to go, so they pierce its lower jaw and just sink in there. No wonder it's pissed off.

Its relationship with its shell is...well, let's save that for the next episode.

Irons in the Fire

Meanwhile,  Wang Lingjiao (Wen Chao's girlfriend) decides she's in the mood for barbequed MianMian, so she grabs a hot iron to burn her face.

Wei Wuxian to the rescue! He shoots three arrows at once and hits all three of his targets, in a move that he'll repeat with even more arrows at a later date.

Wang Lingjiao decides to throw the iron at MianMian, who decides not to duck, while Wei Wuxian leaps into the path of the iron and gets deeply burned on the chest through his clothing. This is absolutely definitely how time, things flying through the air, and branding irons work.

(more after the cut)

Jiang Cheng and Wen Zhuliu start fighting again. These two can't quit each other, almost like they have a date with destiny in their future.  Jiang Cheng shows off his purple bloomers while he and Wen Zhuliu try to outspin each other.

Camera operator: Why you gotta take it out on me?

Wen It’s Time To Say Goodbye

The Wens decide to dip, heading up the rock face and cutting the ropes behind them, which would be super inconvenient if several of the cultivators didn't know how to literally fly.

But they also put a bunch of rocks in the hole, while Wen Qing begs them not to do it.

Down at the bottom of the cave, everyone sits and chats, while Murder Turtle wishes it had legs so it could chase them. Oh wait, it does have legs, it just isn't ready to get out of the bath yet

Call the Waaambulance

MianMian is crying over all the nonsense the writers have put her through in this episode, and Wei Wuxian tries to cheer her up by talking to her like she's a toddler. On the plus side, he'll be a great dad for a toddler one day.

Jin Zixuan: I'm used to women crying around me, is that not typical?

Lan Wangji has got no time for cheering up crying girls, and starts heading back to the turtle bath, because he has figured out how they can escape. 

He and Wei Wuxian show off their mind reading abilities, where Lan Wangji explains absolutely nothing and Wei Wuxian perfectly understands him. See also: “Fortunately.” 

Rather than try to swim for it, the other cultivators want to hang around and wait to be rescued, or just generally feel like staying put and whining. 

Wei Wuxian takes charge through sheer force of personality, and makes Jiang Cheng go find the way out while he himself distracts Murder Turtle with fire.

Wei Wuxian can make talismans without 1. ink 2. a brush or 3. paper. He just needs his flesh and his unusually sharp incisors. He's so far ahead of everyone around him; how is a dude this talented ever going to be anyone's right hand man? He’s already on track to creating a new talisman-based school of cultivation, even if he never gets around to the whole necromancy thing.  

Swimming in the Pool, Swimming is Cool

The main group of cultivators go swimming while Wei Wuxian lights fires to keep the tortoise's attention. For some reason he just stands there when it's about to eat him...maybe he's mesmerized? Lan Wangji flings him out of harm’s way and gets his already-busted leg chomped on. 

Wei Wuxian pulls Lan Wangji to safety and tells the other cultivators to get going. Jiang Cheng doesn't want to, but Jin Zixuan convinces him.

For fans of homoerotic screen caps, this episode is a gold mine.

Murder turtle suddenly remembers he has legs, but Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji instantly find a room he can’t fit into, so they’re okay for the night.

Owie Owie Owie

Now we have an extended hurt/comfort session with our wounded heroes. Lan Wangji is bleeding, so Wei Wuxian...puts a splint made of sticks directly onto his unbandaged lacerations, and ties it with his pristine headband, which will remain pristine. Then he puts medicine on the lacerations.

This seems like a situation where the script said "broken leg" and the makeup department said "MOAR BLOOD" and nobody changed the direction to the actors. In any case, the sticks seem to help and bandages are not mentioned.

What is mentioned, of course, is the dreaded stale blood, which plagues many a c-drama hero, and has to be driven out through strong emotion. This is totally how the human circulatory system works. To be fair, there is probably a perfectly reasonable underlying concept in Chinese medicine that has been exaggerated for dramatic effect, so that every possible ailment or injury results in vomiting blood, sometimes sexily.

Wei Wuxian clears up the blood problem super quickly by offering to show Lan Wangji his dick, not to put too fine a point on it. Alas, he retracts the offer once the crisis has passed.

Once they settle down, Lan Wangji takes the opportunity to put some medicine on Wei Wuxian's burned tit, and to chide him for letting himself get injured. It's like he doesn't even know him. 

Wei Wuxian: I had no choice, because I am psychologically driven to sacrifice myself for other people at every opportunity. Get used to it, cupcake.

Wei Wuxian points out that MianMian is pretty and that it would be bad for her to have a mark on her face. Lan Wangji points out, not quite in so many words, that Wei Wuxian is pretty and now HE has a permanent mark. Before Lan Wangji ever got to see his bare chest, too.

Wei Wuxian says it's cool for men to have marks on their bodies. Preferably hickeys and rope burns, but scars are okay too. 

Lan Wangji: you're going to love my future body mods, then.

Then Wei Wuxian waxes poetic about having a pretty girl remember your heroism, and Lan Wangji gets jealous and cranky. Wei Wuxian misinterprets this, but not unreasonably, considering that Lan Wangji was putting his own body between MianMian and harm not all that long ago.

After some extended eye fucking followed by laughing and saying "no homo" for the censors, the conversation moves to a more serious place. 

Wei Wuxian engages in a little WangXian meta analysis, noting that Lan Wangji can tease him now, and is talking to him slightly more. Falling for a high-spirited, popular extrovert has been hard on Lan Wangji, but Wei Wuxian is also struggling with falling for a nearly-silent, crushingly-shy introvert. Wei Wuxian really does find Lan Wangji boring on one level, at the same time as finding him utterly compelling on other levels. 

Wei Wuxian starts to say something about the Lans and stops himself with this charming gesture. I've seen it here and there in c-dramas and I assume it's a thing in China. It's a perfect way for a hyperactive talker to say "I'm shutting up now" without using even more words to say it.

Lan Wangji finally, FINALLY tells Wei Wuxian - briefly - what happened to his home. Wei Wuxian, in one of those moments of empathy that they have more and more often as time goes on, asks about his loved ones, and forgoes any other questions.

Lan Wangji tells him that Lan Qiren is seriously injured and Lan Xichen is missing. Wei Wuxian is extremely concerned about one of these people.

When Lan Wangji falls asleep at 9pm on the button, Wei Wuxian tenderly covers him in his own robe, offering physical comfort in place of the emotional comfort Lan Wangji won’t let anybody give him. 

Then Wei Wuxian gazes at him like a lovestruck dope, before settling down beside him for the night. 

Soundtrack: Peter Gabriel, I Go Swimming

[teamhappyme]

a series of promising events (4/5)

aaron hotchner x female!reader

word count: 6.7k

a/n: happy new year!! we’ve made it to part 4! this part differs from the 3 previous ones, as it takes place all in one (and a half) days. But there are flashbacks, represented with italics. if anything is confusing with the timeline, or anything else is confusing you in general, please let me know! my brain is a weird place and does not connect the dots when i post for a public audience. i hope you guys enjoy this part, it was really fun for me to write!

get ready, let’s go friends!

here are the links to part 1, part 2, & part 3

****

October 2012

“Some people care too much. I think it’s called love.” - Winnie the Pooh

You’re known for your predictability. Yes, you’re overly kind, extremely perceptive, and a little bit of a literary genius. But those closest to you knew the predictability of your life.

You craved routine. You woke up at 5:30 every morning, had breakfast, watched the news, and caught up on some domestic things before heading into the office. You stopped at the same bagel cart every morning, an Asiago bagel with butter for you and a coffee for Spencer. Monday’s, you treated the whole team. You got to work at 7:12, second only to Hotch. 

The team knew how you would react to every case. Missing or dead children would cause you to go silent, families being the target would choke you up, and anything including a scumbag with a signature kill made you nauseous. 

So it was safe to say they were more than surprised to find out that you’d left for a month long european holiday, from an email, with Strauss cc'd on it. The team couldn’t remember the last time you went on vacation, because you hadn't gone further than two hours in one day. 

In your travels through Europe, you stopped in countries that you’d only dreamt about visiting in your dreams. You saw Nyhavn, Denmark, the colorful canal right outside of Copenhagen. Hopped through Warsaw and Gdansk in Poland, before being silenced by your tour of Auschwitz. Next was France, the country you always said you would flee to once you aged out of the system. Besides hitting all the touristy attractions in Paris, you traveled through the alps, and made sure you stopped to see Giverny, the little village that inspired Claude Monet and his water lily paintings. The last true destination was Spain, jumping at the chance to flex your spanish minor muscles. You roamed Barcelona and Madrid, feeling a little like the Cheetah Girls as you stood in front of La Sagrada Familia.

The more you travelled, the more you’d thought about quitting. Thought about sending your resignation to Strauss through an email, leave your desk full of the mementos and picture frames, and continue falling in love with the continent you’d never been to before. 

But then you made your final stop in London, to the sister who you missed immensely, and lost the nerve entirely.

“You’ll regret leaving them for the rest of your life,” Emily said to you, and you wondered for a second if she was projecting her decisions onto you. 

“They don’t deserve me.” You’d mumbled out, just loud enough for her to hear. “I can’t continue on like this.”

You’d given the team everything you had for seven and a half years. The job demanded personal sacrifices you never thought you’d be capable of, until you met the people who signed on for this before you. The people who shared the same commitment to helping others, the responsibility to improve the world around them before the one that housed them. It was the first time you felt at home in your quarter century existence.

But the work never seized. The jet began to feel more like home than your apartment, hotel beds provided more comfort than your own pillow covered mattress. And no matter how many people you saved, no amount of gratification from loved ones could quell the loneliness building back inside you.

So you listened to Emily, and came back to the states on your original return flight, October 23, 2012. You returned to the real world in less than seventy-two hours and promised Garcia you would brush up on the next case before debriefing on Monday morning. 

You were betting on the fact that the team wasn’t lingering around the office, considering it was seven thirty on a friday night as you headed up in the elevator, fresh off your flight from the UK. The last thing you wanted was someone to corner you, when all you wanted to do was sleep off the lingering memories of your last night here. 

The glass doors leading into the BAU gave you a view of the bullpen; empty. Opening the door, you walked over to your desk, quickly glancing around the other spaces to see if anything had changed. It hadn’t.

Grabbing the files Garcia left on your desk and your car keys from the drawer, you tidied up the space the tiniest bit. You made sure everything was squared off to your monitor, updating the days passed on your desk calendar. You wrote a reminder on a yellow sticky to thank Reid for watering your small desk plant and stuck it to the screen for Monday. Everything looked like it was in its place, until you saw a blue stress ball sitting on your chair. Your head whipped up to the office at the top of the stairs, but the lights were off and the door shut. He wasn’t here. 

But you could feel the stare of his eyes from four weeks ago on you just the same.

You guys were working a local case in the District. 

The unsub had murdered three men, each with one shot to the head execution style. There were no signs of torture, and all three men were found with their eyes closed and arms crossed over their torsos; signs of remorse. 

It took the team thirty hours to stick the profile and find the woman responsible. Her name was Kathryn Downey, a forty two year old mother of three, with a law degree that hadn’t been used in fifteen years. After digging into the victims personal lives and her own, the motive and stressor became clear to everyone; her husband had cheated on her. 

You found Kathryn with a gun pointed to her husband’s head, his hands and feet duct taped, and a strip around his mouth keeping him silent. 

Her hands were shaking, and you knew from the second you saw her that she didn’t want to kill him. She was angry, and full of rage, but she wouldn’t be able to follow through with this.

As long as you use the right language.

“Kathryn, put the gun down, we’re with the FBI.” Hotch started in a calm voice, but she shook her head, hands shaking faster. 

“No. I have to do this. He,” She took a breath, pushing the hair out of her face with her free hand. “He has to pay.”

You glanced at Aaron before taking a step closer, slowly lowering your weapon. She needed to feel safe, and she needed to feel like an equal. 

“Kathryn, my name is y/n l/n. I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit from the FBI. I really want to help you through this situation, so I’m going to put my gun down, alright?” You slowly lowered the gun to the ground, kicking it back gently to Hotch. 

“Now Kathryn, I know your children are here. I don’t want anything to happen to them, and I know you don’t either, so could you tell me where they are so we can help them?” 

“In the basement, I locked them in the basement. I didn’t want them to,” She let the thought end, not wanting to manifest it into the universe. She didn’t want them to see their mother kill their father.

Hotch spoke gently into the comms, getting Morgan and Rossi down to the kids. 

“Kathryn, I want to know why we’re here in this situation. I’ve read the file, I profiled you and your family, but I want to know your side of the story. Why are you holding a gun to your husbands head?”

Her eyes widened in the slightest, and you were sure it was from the empathy in your voice. But this was your specialty, and you were determined to talk this woman down. 

“He cheated on me,” She whispered, and for a split second, you thought this was going to be easy. But then she pressed the gun harder into his head, and let out a low laugh. “After everything I’ve done for this family, for him, he just takes his pants off for another woman?”

You heard the safety click off, and Hotch’s own in return. Please do not end in a shootout.

“Kathryn, don’t look at him. Don’t think about him kneeling in front of you. Just focus on me. Tell me how you got to this moment right now.”

“How did I get to this moment? I got here by following around this sad excuse for a man for the last twenty years. Like a moth to a flame, I couldn’t escape this life of mine.” Her eyes started to water, and you internally sighed. You were getting somewhere. “I have a law degree, you know. Fifth in my class at Columbia, and I only used it for a year. And it was in sleazy corporate law. Because I got married, and I got pregnant, and Sean wanted someone to stay home with the kids.

“I went from the intelligent corporate attorney with her eyes set on the attorney general’s office, to a cliche housewife who spends her days cleaning and dotting on her husband and kids. I never wanted to be this woman,” She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall down her face freely. She looked so young in this vulnerable state, too young to have three children. Yet she looked so tired, and so defeated. “I gave up everything for this family. I gave up my career, friends, bucket list dreams, and a life that was waiting to be lived, for this man. I cater to his every need, I listen to him drone on about work, assure him when he’s feeling anxious, and give in when he needs a release. I am my children’s rock; when they need a shoulder to cry on I’m there in a second. They need help with their math homework, I’m the number one girl. But when it’s my turn to fall apart, when it’s my turn to be lifted up and supported, nobody is there for me. And he should be able to be there for me.”

If you hadn’t undergone intense training at Quantico, you would’ve been in tears by now. You empathized with this woman more than you should, and you were trying so desperately to help her out of this situation. So you continued to dig your fingernails into your palms, and spoke again. 

“I know what you’re feeling, Kathryn.”

“You don’t know what I’m feeling!” Wrong move. She ripped the gun away from her husband and fixed the trigger on you. Hotch moved so that he was only one step behind you, trying to get her to lower the gun. “You have no idea what this is like!”

“I do, Kathryn. I promise you I do. I may not be a wife, or a mother, but I know what it’s like to give yourself completely to a person. I know what it’s like to hold onto the stress and fears of the people you love. I understand, because I’m this person too.

“People like you and me, we feel the need to be the emotional support for everyone we love. We never want to see them struggle, and we never want to see them in pain. So, we listen. We overcompensate to make them feel better, and we check in regularly to make sure they’re okay. Our happiness, as strange and sad as it may be, is directly linked to theirs. We can’t be happy unless they’re happy. But once they come out of their depression, once they thank us for being the light in their lives, they walk away, and take the happy rainbow with them. And they don’t leave any for us.” Tears continued to fall down her face, but you needed to go further. She was going to break if you kept going. “Kathryn, I was in your position not long ago. I remember what it feels like when you realize that the love you have for someone won’t be reciprocated. That after everything you’ve done for them, all the small moments that you succeeded in taking their grief away and bringing happiness back into their life, they still don’t appreciate you. And it’s heartbreaking.

“But I’m standing across from you today, on the other side of that pain, trying to tell you that it gets better. It doesn’t go away, but it gets a hell of a lot better, Kathryn. So please, do not let this one moment that you couldn’t take the pain away ruin all the times you did.” 

You expected the tears. You expected an emotional end to this situation. You didn’t expect Kathryn Downey to drop her gun in the middle of the room, and collapse onto you. But that’s exactly what she did. And instead of letting go to untie her husband, instead of joining Hotch in cuffing her, you held her for a minute. You held her breaking heart in your hands, and tried your hardest to take away all her fears and pain for once in her life. 

After a minute, you pulled away and grabbed a hold of her upper arm. She gave you a slight nod, knowing this is what was always going to happen. You led her down the stairs and into the back of a squad car, as Aaron helped the husband to his children once outside of the house. 

You were leaning against the suburban that you came in, watching as the team debriefed with the local pd before being dismissed. But amongst the chaos, Hotch found your eyes, and gave you a knowing look. One that meant you were going to talk through the very personal negotiation you gave.

The team arrived back at the office just shy of ten o’clock, Penelope waiting for Derek at the elevator. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder as you led the gang into the bullpen, everyone dropping their go bags at their desks. 

You lingered for a moment as Hotch made his way up to his office, knowing you’d be joining him in a few seconds. You grabbed your blue stress ball, complimentary from the C.A.L.M. department meeting, as through the curtains you could see him drop his bag before checking his phone for any messages from Jack.

“L/n,” Here it comes. “Can I talk to you in my office please?”

You and Spencer shared a look, and he gave you a comforting smile in return. You took the steps two at a time to his office, and shut the door behind you once you arrived. He was standing behind his desk, so you didn’t feel the need to sit yourself.

You waited for him to speak, since he was the one that called you in. It was a little childish, but you weren’t the one who wanted the discussion.

“I want to talk about the negotiation.”

“I thought it was pretty successful. I empathised, I got her to drop her weapon, and no one was injured in the process.”

“Y/n, you know that’s not what I meant.” He uncrossed his arms, letting out a sigh. The two of you were too exhausted to have this conversation, but that wasn’t going to stop Hotch from going on. “I told you that you could lean on me when it all became too much.”

“That was six years ago, Hotch.” Defensive, but not rude. A fine line. “And this wasn’t about work, this was personal. You’re not obligated to listen to our personal issues that take place outside the office.”

“And you are?” Stop spinning my words, Hotchner. “I know you, y/n. This isn’t just something that can be brushed back under the rug.” You scoffed. “You don’t know me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t know me, Hotch. None of you do. You know my file. You know that I got a full ride to Bowdoin, that I was a social worker before transferring here, and that most of my life before eighteen was sealed away. I confided in you six years ago about my childhood and now you think you know me?”

“Why are you getting so defensive?”

“I’m not-” You paused, knowing that if you finished that statement it would, in fact, be defensive. “I’m just really tired and I don’t want to be having this conversation right now.”

“It’s not healthy for you to keep everything in while people spill their lives to you. And you know that.”

“Hotch,” You warned, your exhaustion quickly turning into rage.

“What, you really think I’m just going to drop this after hearing you confess to a serial killer that you have no joy in your life? And now you’re going to try and convince me that I don’t know anything about you? Bullshit, y/n. I know that you talk to your foster siblings every sunday to check in and make sure they’re all doing okay. I know that you volunteer with Garcia to help the families of victims cope with their loss. I know that you cling to Spencer like gum wherever you go to make him feel less insecure in a bar.”

“Stop it,”

“I know that your favorite color is purple, that you still write articles for CNN and The Times under a pseudonym. And I know, more than anything in the world, you want to be the mother that you never got to have.”

“Stop it!” You threw the blue ball into his builtins, hitting one of his stupid administrative awards in the process. He didn’t even flinch. “You don’t get to know me like that.”

“Why not?” You let out a low laugh as tears started to fill in your eyes. He was oblivious, and that's what made it hurt even more. You cracked your knuckles for a few seconds, waiting for him to connect the words you spoke at the Downey house and your frustration with him in this moment.

But his face softened, the wrinkles disappeared from his forehead, and you knew he figured it out. He didn’t need to say the words for you to know exactly what was going through his head. But he was with Beth, and you were not going to interfere. This wouldn’t change anything.

“It’s late, I should head home. I’ll get you my report before monday.”

You left his office without saying goodnight, and you tried to ignore the rest of your team huddled around Morgan’s desk, pretending not to be eavesdropping. But they totally were. 

Instead you grabbed your bags, giving Spencer a reassuring smile as his gaze lingered on you for a second longer. You had no intentions of turning around to see Hotch’s face. But if you had, you would’ve seen the same heartbroken expression across his face, realizing he let you walk away.

You tore your eyes away from the office, not wanting to relive the memory any longer. You stashed the stress ball under your monitor before turning out the light, and making your way back to the elevator.

Once you were settled back in your apartment, you sent a text to Reid and JJ, letting them know you got in okay and that you’d see them at the office on Monday. After getting a thumbs up and a ‘glad you’re home’ in response, you turned in for the night, trying to dream of nights in Paris and Barcelona instead of at the BAU.

---

It was hard for you to get back in the routine of consulting and profiling. Garcia had left you copies of three cases the team was going to be working on when you returned, and you’d barely worked through the first one in two hours. 

Three teenagers went missing from their small town in Idaho, and all were found in Seattle in the same week. Of course, your first case back included kids. 

You resorted to calling Spencer when you really had no idea where to begin. You felt like a rookie all over again, asking for help when creating a geographical profile or running new negotiation tactics. But your best friend was quick to help, assuring you that once you got back to the office, you’d fall back into the routine.

“Did you have a good time?” He finally asked, albeit apprehensively. You didn’t leave on the best terms with anyone, and they all seemed to know what pushed you over the edge.

“I did. It’s amazing to know that there is a whole other world out there that we don’t even know about. It’s so different over there, Spence. It’s peaceful, and beautiful, and everything the place you call home should be.”

You could hear the intake of breath over the line. “Does that mean you’re moving to Spain?” A smile crossed your lips just thinking about Barcelona. But, it wasn’t home.

“This is my home, Spencer. I’m not leaving anytime soon.” You left out the part about contemplating a new life for the better part of three weeks, knowing it would only cause him more paranoia. You were staying in Quantico, continuing what you were born to do.

After drafting a rough profile and reviewing family statements, you took a break from the paperwork staring back at you all morning. 

You made your way into the kitchen to find something for lunch, the afternoon approaching quick. All you really wanted to do was crash on the couch and watch old movies for hours, until monday morning inevitably rolled around. Selfishly you wanted your vacation to last forever. But your mind, and your bank account, thought differently.

After consuming a sandwich and some chips, you brought back the fresh mug of hot chocolate to the kitchen table, ready to take on the second file. Two women raped, tortured, and murdered outside of Miami. Why the fuck did it always have to be Florida.

Halfway through the family statements, there was a knock at your door. You grabbed your gun from the side table, just in case. Only three people had a key to your apartment. One of them was in England, one you just got off the phone with, and one… you didn’t exactly know where you stood with him.

After checking the peephole and seeing Hotch on the other side, you let out a sigh of relief. No one is coming to muder you. But it was quickly replaced with the memories of your last encounter, and the unspoken realization of feelings unrequited.

You placed your gun back on the table, and unlocked the door for him. He was wearing a navy blue quarter zip, jeans, and sneakers, the ultimate Aaron Hotchner not on duty look. It made your heart beat just a little faster noticing his hair was free of any gel, flopping naturally as he walked. 

“Hi,” You greeted him, half of you hidden behind your front door. 

A shadow of a smile crossed his lips, and he placed his hands in his pockets. “Hi. I’m sorry for stopping by unannounced. I know you must be tired and getting ready for Monday.”

“No, it’s okay. Did you want to come in?” You opened the door a little more, stepping out to show your sweatpants and sweatshirt look from behind the door.

“Thank you.” He murmured as he walked through the entrance, moving to take off his shoes. You told him a million times that you didn’t follow that rule, and that you hated it when people made their guests remove their shoes. But he told you once that it was a sign of comfort, that he felt at ease in someone else's home.

“Can I get you something to drink? I have some tea bags left over I think, or I can make you a cup of coffee.”

“No, I’m okay.” 

“Are you sure? It’ll only take a second. Oh, are you hungry? I still have some sealed crackers from before I left, might have something in the freezer if-”

“Y/n,” He interrupted you and you stopped in the middle of your path to the kitchen. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” You nodded, making your way back to the living room. “Oh, I um, got something for Jack while I was in England with Emily. I know it’ll probably keep him holed up in his room for a week, but I couldn’t resist.” 

You pulled out the bag of souvenirs you got for the team, grabbing the London attractions lego set you bought for the young boy. Aaron smiled when you handed it to him, knowing the two of them would no doubt be starting this when he got home. 

“You didn’t have to get this for him. But he’s gonna love it.” 

“I know.” You reached in the bag once more, pulling out the gift you got for Aaron. “And I know you’ll probably never wear this, but I had to get it for you.”

He opened the box, a british flag tie on the inside. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips, the tacky gift really meaning a lot to him. “Thank you. I can honestly say this is the most unique gift I’ve ever received.”

“Glad to hear it.” You tucked your foot underneath you as you settled onto the couch, letting Aaron set the gifts aside. You knew what conversation was coming next, but you didn’t have the courage to start it. Especially since he was the one to come to you.

He settled in on the couch, a cushion between the two of you, a clear boundary that he’d set. 

“Did you enjoy your time over there?” 

“I had a really great time. I can’t believe I’d gone thirty two years without leaving the country. You don’t realize how much of the world there is to see until you go and uncover a small fraction of it.”

He smiled while beginning to pick at his fingernails. This was a new tell of his, he was usually extremely reserved with his anxiety. “You sound like Emily.” 

“I’m going to take that as a complement.” You said with a small laugh, adoring the woman across the ocean. 

“It is. She called me a few days ago, told me you guys had a nice visit.” 

“We did. Prentiss knows how to have a good time no matter the city. It was a little too much for me, though.” 

“Nobody can quite keep up with Emily.” He added before letting out a breath.

“She also told me that you were contemplating leaving the BAU.” There goes the first shoe, dropping from the ceiling. “Are you still thinking of quitting?”

“No.” It was the truth. Em had spoken some sense into you, and you knew deep down, like you told Spencer, this was your home. “I just needed a break from everything. And Europe was an amazing distraction. But I’m back, and ready to get back into the swing of things.”

He nodded, some tension slowly released from his shoulders. He couldn’t lose another member. It was too soon.

“Was it because of me?” 

“What?” Even though you were expecting this conversation, it still caught you off guard. 

“I’m not conceited enough to think you fled to another continent because of a fight, but is that what pushed you over the edge? What led you to want to quit the BAU?”

In a word, yes. The argument was the last straw on the camel's back. You’d spent years with this unit, fulfilling a destiny that you made up for yourself so that you wouldn’t feel guilty for not having a family or friends to confide in. You spent the better part of the last three years pining for a man you couldn’t have, trying to fill the holes in your life by playing pretend. So yes, it was Hotch that pushed you over the edge. But you learned a hell of a lot about yourself in those four weeks.

“Hotch, did you know that this was the first time I went on an airplane for my own enjoyment? This was the first vacation I’ve been on in my life. I booked a flight on a Thursday night that left at six a.m. the next morning. I was spontaneous, and in control of all the moves I would make for the next thirty days. I’ve never felt more liberated in my life.

“But then I landed in Copenhagen, and had an anxiety attack. I can’t speak Danish, I have no idea how to get around a new country, and I only had thirty dollars in cash to my name. And the only thing I could think of to help me get through it, was calling you. I had your contact pulled up, ready to call you and tell you what a stupid fucking mistake I made. But then I could hear your voice in my head, saying ‘I know you’, and I’d never turned my phone off faster.”

“Y/n,” He sounded exhausted himself, but you weren’t going to give in to the apologies. Not yet.

“I had the time of my life there. I went to places that I never thought I’d get to see in my life. Places that my foster parents told me I’d never be important enough to go to. But I made it. I made it to Giverny, and I saw what inspired Claude Monet to paint the Water Lilies series with my own eyes. I went inside La Sagrada Familia and walked on the steps that Gaudi dreamt of. I saw everything I wanted to, and I wept every place I went to. Because I got myself there. I persevered and worked my ass off my whole life, to get there. I didn’t have any parents, I didn't have any siblings, a spouse, or children. I did it all by myself, and it felt pretty amazing to accomplish that.

“No one knows me like I do.” You finished. Your walls were back up starting to feel secure in your own skin again. 

He stayed silent for a few minutes, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. He was calculating his response, trying to formulate the perfect response to get the two of you back on track. It was exhausting watching his brain work, and you wondered how tired he must always be.

After another minute, he sighed and dropped his hands into his lap. “Beth and I broke up two weeks before you left.” The other shoe had dropped.

“What?” For the second time tonight, you were rendered speechless by Aaron Hotchner. This was not the response you were expecting, and not the news you expected to hear anytime soon. The two of them were obsessed with one another, how could they just end it?

“We ended it two weeks before your trip. She accepted a job in Kyoto, and didn’t want to string me along with long distance. But she also said she knew my heart wasn’t in it anymore.”

You stood up from the couch, not being able to sit still with this new information. Hotch and Beth were no longer together, he said all those things to you as a single man, understood what you felt for him, and still let you walk out of his office. For four weeks. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It was his turn to stand, still leaving enough distance between the two of you to continue your pacing. 

“Don’t deflect to another conversation.” 

“You’re the one that brought it up!”

He sighed, running a hand through his perfectly shaggy hair. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you again. So please, get it through your thick skull when I tell you that I know you. And I don’t mean that on a bureaucratic superior level. I know you, y/n. And just because you’ve been alone your whole life, doesn’t mean you deserve to be alone for the rest of it.” 

Your eyes started to water, so you looked away, gluing your line of sight to the wall next to you.

“You give us all one hundred and ten percent of your attention when we need you. And when I say all of us, that includes Jack and Henry. I’ve never met someone so intune to another person's feelings, who exudes so much empathy with one look and a smile. And we’ve taken you for granted for seven and a half years. Me the most.” Your eyes found his brown ones, begging you to continue looking at him. “I couldn’t have gotten through Haley’s death without you. And that is the biggest understatement of the decade. I am eternally grateful for all that you’ve done for me and Jack. But at the same time, I’m so sorry that it pushed me further and further away from you.”

His own eyes started to water, and he choked out a laugh. “What you said to Kathryn Downey, about giving yourself completely to a person and not getting the love reciprocated. I felt like an absolute idiot for not realizing that you felt the same way I did.” You closed your eyes with his confession, letting the tears roll down your cheeks. 

“There were so many times I wanted to tell you. But then Haley took Jack, and Foyet came, and the world got away from me. And I’m so sorry that you’ve felt the need to carry all our problems on your own.”

“Hotch, you don’t have to apologize.”

“Please, don’t call me Hotch right now.” He took a step toward you. “It’s Aaron, when I’m standing in front of you, begging you to just let me in.”

“I don’t,” Your voice cracked, and you rubbed your hands over your face in frustration. “I don’t know how to let someone love me.”

“I know,” He took another step closer. “You’re just going to have to trust me when I tell you I’ve been in love with you for years.”

He didn’t see the rest of your tears fall, because you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. His arms found their place around your waist, pulling you two impossibly close.

“I love you, Aaron.” You could feel him laughing with his chest pressed against your own, and he moved to kiss the side of your head. 

“I love you.” He whispered back, causing the last of your tears to fall onto his sweatshirt.

He started to pull away, just enough to get a look at your face. His eyes were no longer filled with tears, but his cheeks still glistened when the light illuminated the damp spots on his face. He brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, letting his knuckles gently graze your temple. You caught his hand in the middle of his movement, lacing your fingers with his own. You’d been dying to know what it felt like to hold his hand like this for years, when you found yourself comforting him in his office one night, lightly holding his hand in yours. But this was so much better.

“You good?” He asked, and the corners of your mouth turned up the slightest. 

“I’m good.” He traced the lightest check mark on your laced hands, causing a true smile to grace your face.

“You have a tally to see who can make me smile the most?” 

“It’s just mine. Been keeping it for years. But I’m always in the lead.”

You laughed while letting go of his hand, wrapping your arms back around his neck. His eyes flickered to your lips for a second before looking back at you. You gave him a small nod, knowing he was asking for your permission. 

When his lips met yours, you knew this was the feeling that all the fairytales sang about. He was gentle at first, slotting your upper lip between his own. It was slow, and full of love from the years of knowing one another inside and out. He bit your lower lip softly, barely there, and you slowly parted your lips, letting him trace your tongue with his own. 

All you could think about was how warm he was, how his breath was actively leaving his lungs and entering your own as if you were one person. It was all consuming, and you were grateful that he took the lead, because you couldn’t focus on anything but him.

His hands slipped under your sweatshirt, resting on the skin just above your hips. You let out a small gasp as his cold fingers made contact with the sensitive skin, but it only made him laugh into the kiss. 

After a few more moments of getting lost in the feel of one another, you reluctantly pulled away, needing air to fill up your lungs. But Aaron didn’t go far, gently resting his forehead against your own. 

“I love you. And I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to stop telling you.” You closed your eyes and tilted your head up, slowly kissing him again. 

“I’ll never get sick of hearing it.” You mumbled, your lips still grazing his own. He smiled into the kiss, which only made your heart glow brighter and brighter the more he showed you how he felt.

You pulled away first, tracing the outline of his jaw with your thumbs. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He tilted his head to the side, just enough to press a kiss to the palm of your hand. 

The tenderness this man exudes is beyond belief. “I really love you, Aaron.”

He laughed while pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad to hear that.”

You let him hold you for what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only a few minutes. “I promised Jack I would take him out for ice cream to make up for missing his soccer game last night.” 

“Okay,” You said and started to pull away, but his grip on your waist only tightened.

“Really? You’re just gonna let go without a goodbye?” You laughed at his fake hurt expression, so incredibly happy that you get to see Aaron in this light, enjoying his son, his life, and you. 

“I’m not about to stand in the way of Jack Hotchner and a sugar rush. That guy loves his sugar.”

He let go of your waist, but not without a light squeeze to your sides. “I know we literally just started this, but I really would like to tell him. I don’t want to keep any more secrets from him than I have to.”

You smiled at the thought of Aaron telling Jack how in love the two of you were. It made you feel complete, in a way you never thought you’d get to experience in your life.

“Tell him. As long as he doesn’t blab about it to anyone on the team just yet.” 

“You sure?” You nodded while passing him the souvenirs as he slipped his sneakers back on. 

“Aaron, he’s your son. I’ve loved him as long as I’ve loved you, maybe even longer.”

He stood up once again, that stupid smile not willing to leave his face any time soon. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” 

“Must’ve been something pretty good.” You said with a laugh, which he silenced by placing his lips on yours. You hoped the butterflies you felt now would be there every time he kissed you, no matter how many years have passed. 

“Like that.” You said once he pulled away. His dimples were showing now, and you wished that you could take a picture of him in this happy moment and remember it for the rest of your lives. 

“I’ll call you tonight.” He said and opened the front door. 

“Okay. Have fun, tell Jack I said hi.” 

“I will.” He kissed your cheek before starting the walk back down the hallway. He didn’t even make it halfway before turning around, and giving you one final kiss in the doorway. 

“Love you,” He said and gave you one more peck, before you shoved his shoulder. “I love you too. Now get outta here, Hotchner.”

****

tags: @simplyprentiss @michaelahah @ssahotchner99 @svrgicalhands @hotchtopic @unionjackpillow @philcoolson @tommhollandzxhaz @kathleenjasmine @canimarrypizzaornah @reaperwalking @inlovewithaaronhotchner @shelbymm11 @mrshotchner23 @tropicalwrites @averyhotchner @dreamy-moments @softhxtch @crazymar15 @theinsanespaceship15 @wecouldbreakthedistance @jeor @funnycuteandannoying @andherestograce @thisisntjuliana @captwilson @kennedyblair @lovelysunflowerxoxo @rcompton @iifaequeenii @iwaizumiee @mrsaaronh0tchner @abbeyannsmith-blog @becausehello @rinacriedpower @ssa-raye @ephemeral-barnes @slxtherinchxser @baueoud @lieswithoutfairytales @hug-a-bug-boo @blogmythoughts @freebanditghostcalzone @sugarbutterbailey

[yikestripes]

Masquerade

Request: Can you write a Hotch x reader where the BAU team attends a ballroom party after helping a rich man from an unsub as thanks. Hotch meets the reader and they talk and dance all night. The reader is intrigued that Hotch is a profiler and at midnight she gives him her shoe and tells him to find her based only on that. Thanks!!!

here you go @lavenderblossom12 !!!! i hope you enjoy this !!! i actually had a ton of fun writing it and i usually have such a tough time writing for hotch. if it’s good maybe i’ll write a part 2 ;)

key:

(Y/H/C): your hair color

(Y/D/J): your dream job

(Y/E/C): your eye color

word count: 2.5k

“Hotchner,” Hotch answered with his usual monotone draw, narrowing his already narrow brow as he listened to whatever the caller was saying on the other end. “Well, I suppose that would be alright. Send me the location. Thanks.” He hung up and turned the phone over and over in his hands before looking to the ceiling.

“What is it, Hotch? Is everything okay?” JJ asked, concerned.

“The BAU team was invited to a masquerade party to celebrate our returning the Schaffer’s daughter,” He said, sounding unsure. He recognized the caller ID as soon as he saw the D.C area code, having spent extensive time with the family in pursuit of the most recent psychopath. They had gotten a location at the most crucial time, they had shown up right before the unsub slit the young woman’s throat. They apprehended him in a matter of minutes and were able to return the girl safely to her family. She had been the target in a war of spite between the unsub and her father, since he had personally fired him from his company 3 months later without any sort of rhyme or reason, beyond slow work ethic. He was furious and decided to get back at him by taking the most precious thing in his world; his 19 year old daughter.

“Well, that’s never happened before.” Reid said, looking confused. He hated parties, clubs, anything of the sort. The loud music made it hard for him to think and he had a tough time connecting with other people, his tangents tended to turn others off from him. Hotch remained unsure about agreeing so quickly, but decided not to press the issue. It was the right thing to do; it was, after all, partially in their honor. The team could deal with it for one night, not to mention they had been working especially hard and could use a single night to let loose and celebrate their work, especially since this case had been a win for the good guys.

It was set to take place that Saturday and although attendance was not required, it was recommended. This was to celebrate the return of a young girl and it was to thank them, so it was only right of them to go.

At least, that was the way Hotch was going to continue justifying it to himself, whether the team or anyone else understood or not. He was going to find a way to enjoy this party if it took everything in him, or even all the liquor at the open bar. Tonight was about relaxing. Every single person in his life never failed to remind him how uptight he could be, or how he could never relax. With all the things he’d seen since starting at the BAU, how could he?

He straightened his tie in the mirror of his small apartment and took a deep breath, before making his way to the ballroom where the party was being hosted. He had apparently been assigned to a table with the rest of the team, of which he was the first to arrive, and he eagerly awaited his fellow agents’ arrivals. Prentiss came shortly after Hotch, wearing a long red gown that accentuated her curves without trying to make a spectacle of herself, followed by Penelope, who was the complete opposite. Her dress was colorful and bright, just like her personality- and typical work attire. JJ wore a gown similar to Emily’s and Reid had gone with a classic all black suit. Derek was what he called “fashionably late”, sporting a suit that was similar to Reid’s, except navy blue as opposed to solid black.

It didn’t take a profiler to see what each agent’s outfit said about them; Reid didn’t want to be noticed, Morgan was impartial since he got attention no matter what he wore, and the girls’ dresses and makeup spoke more to their individual personalities. JJ was able to snag a babysitter for Henry and brought Will as a plus one, so she dressed more suited to being with someone. Classy and elegant, without attracting attention to herself. Emily was similar in the sense of class and elegance, but she didn’t bring anyone so attracting someone else was more of her goal with her dress and her overall demeanor. Hotch, on the other hand, didn’t have much of a motive for anything beyond looking nice and enjoying his time off from work and his typical worries, sporting a plain black suit with a classic red tie. Nevertheless, all the agents looked fantastic and it showed as they slowly eased deeper into the party.

Hotch excused himself from Reid as he went on about the periodic table, he wasn’t even sure how the prior conversation of the butterfly room on the second floor could possibly have any relation, but of course Reid found a way to bring something like that into a conversation. Hotch shook his head to himself as he approached, being only one of two who were at the bar, besides the bartender.

“I’ll take a Kettle One on the rocks, please.” Hotch took a long drag from the glass as soon as the bartender set it in front of him, earning him a small chuckle from the person beside him.

“Thirsty?” You asked, your eyes alight. The liquor went down his throat icy, forcing him to pause for a second before responding. He offered a small smile.

“Not quite.” He said quietly, looking down into the glass.

“Fair enough.” You took a sip from the wine in your hand as you looked across the room, throwing a lock of (Y/H/C) hair over your shoulder. Hotch took another sip himself before inching slightly closer to you.

“It’s a lovely venue.” Hotch said quietly.

“It really is. I came to a wedding that took place here about a month ago, for one of my best friends from college,” You paused to take another drag from your wine. “I gotta be honest though, I like what they did with the place now much better.” She set down the empty glass on the bar and the bartender filled you up without you saying a word. You took the glass in your hand once more, looking to Hotch.

“Is it safe to assume you’re one of the guests of honor this evening?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, how did you know?” Hotch asked.

“Well, you’re sitting at a table that is slightly apart from the other tables, and the other guests at your table who I saw you sitting with before are all glued to one another, seeming as if they’re the only ones they know here.” You said.

“Wow. I guess we do sort of stand out.” Hotch replied, taking another sip of his own drink, feeling the effect slowly loosen him up. He downed the last few swigs and offered you his hand.

“Care to dance?” Hotch was never the dancing sort, except when he went out with his ex-wife and/or coworkers. Haley enjoyed dancing enough, as did Hotch, but they never found the time to do so. However, tonight was about relaxing, and ignoring everything in him that told him not to at least try and enjoy himself. He was going to enjoy this party, he was determined to.

A blush crept up to your cheeks as you accepted his hand, entering the dance floor from the side. Hotch placed his hands on your waist, and you rested yours on his chest as you slowly swayed around the floor.

“So, tell me about yourself.” You said, smiling up at him. You had to hand it to him, he was extremely attractive, and his elusive smiles were something that clearly had to be earned, and you seemed to be doing a pretty good job so far.

“Well, uh, there really isn’t much to tell.” He said, looking around for something to trigger a memory as to what he could use to impress you.

“Come on, a handsome guy like you? I’m sure you’ve got some sort of exciting life.” Now it was Hotch’s turn to blush; he wasn’t used to hearing things like that.

“Well, I’m an FBI agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, so I guess that’s pretty exciting.” He shrugged as your eyes widened, fascinated.

“That’s pretty incredible, I gotta be honest.” You said, closing your dropped jaw. He smiled again, somehow making him even more attractive.

“Thanks. It’s hard work, but it pays off. What do you do?” He asked, readjusting his hands a little higher on your waist. You couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed, but ignored it.

“I’m a (Y/D/J).” You grinned. Hotch brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, as blood rushed to your cheeks.

“Wow, that sounds exciting.” He whispered. The slower song had ended and led its way to a more upbeat song, and Hotch saw JJ dragging Will and Reid out onto the dance floor, followed by Morgan, Garcia, and Prentiss, who winked in Hotch’s direction.

You dropped your hands from his shoulders and grabbed his hand, leading him in the direction of your table where you had set down your wine glass previously. You took a long gulp, and turned your attention back to Hotch.

“What do you do for the FBI?” You asked, steadying yourself on a nearby chair.

“I’m a, uh, profiler. My team and I work together to create a profile of both a victim and/or the perpetrator, and use that to help solve the case.” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“That’s fascinating.” You said, in awe. That sounded like the coolest job you’d ever heard, definitely something straight out of a movie.

“I’m going to grab another drink, did you need a refill?” Hotch asked, eyeing your emptying glass. You paused for a second to check yourself, and see if another could cause you to embarrass yourself. You decided that if you paced yourself, you would be fine.

“Sure, chardonnay.” You downed the rest of the contents and handed the glass to Hotch with a sweet smile. You watched as he made his way to the bar, confident. Another man approached him, and sent a small grin in your direction before turning his attention back to the man you’d spent almost half the evening with, but you didn’t even know his name. That was the funny thing about these sort of corporate parties; names were almost never necessary, you have the most incredible evening, but never ruin the memory with names and empty promises. You were interested in the fact that the man had never even mentioned anything about names, numbers, or anything of the sort. You almost always had to bring up the idea yourself, whether it was after one glass of wine or several. Most usually wanted to sleep with you, something that usually became apparent by this time of the night.

Not with this man, however. He was sweet and sure of himself, but not so sure that he thought he could sweet talk you back to his apartment. He genuinely seemed intrigued by you, and you by him.

“That’s a pretty girl you’ve been chatting up, Hotch.” Morgan appeared at Hotch’s side, ordering himself another beer.

“Isn’t she beautiful? She’s intelligent, too. And miraculously interested in our line of work,” Hotch replied with a small laugh, taking a sip from his glass.

“You think there’ll be a second date?” Morgan asked.

Hotch sorta shrugged and didn’t answer the question, just picked up your wine and his kettle and was off to find you. Luckily for him, you hadn’t wandered far, just to look at some of the paintings that were hanging up around the venue.

“Your wine, my lady.”

“Why thank you, kind sir.” You giggled as you took a short drag, sighing in content. “I hate to say it, but the evening is almost over..” You trailed off, looking toward the giant clock on the wall.

“Wow, I didn’t realize it had gotten that late.” It was nearing 12:15, and the party ended around 12:30.

“Yeah.” You took another sip of your wine as Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph” filled the room. “This is one of my favorites, shall we?” He set his glass down on the table beside yours, took your hand, and led you onto the dance floor once again. This time, he allowed his hands to sit directly on your hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” He said with a shy smile.

“Thank you, so do you.” You giggled. This made his entire face break out into a grin as he lifted your arm, indicating for you to do a small spin. You dressed fanned out around you as Hotch brought you close again. You’d lost your footing amid the spin, not used to spinning in such high heels and after about 3 glasses of wine. You giggled a little bit more.

Hotch licked his lips as he took in the color of your eyes, (Y/E/C), sparkling and bright. He smiled a little and looked down at your lips, which were a lovely shade of pink, slightly parted. You could instantly tell what he was thinking, and closed the gap quickly. He stiffened in surprise, and then melted into it. You pulled away breathlessly, grinning from ear to ear.

The song ended faster than you would have liked, when you got a wild idea. It was something you’d always wanted to do, something you’d only ever seen in movies. There’s a first time for everything, right?

You pulled him down a little so you could whisper in his ear while leaning on him, taking off your left shoe.

“Come find me, Mr. FBI agent.” You whispered, pressing the shoe into his hand and walking away, purse in hand, in the direction of the exit.

Hotch’s eyes widened when he finally processed what had just happened, Morgan and Prentiss quickly approaching.

“What was that?” Prentiss asked, somewhat coherently.

“I… I have to find her.” Hotch said, staring at where you had sauntered right out of the ballroom, and beyond his reach.

[maariarogers]

How They Steal Seojun’s Scenes and Ruin A Tiny Essence of Seojun and Suho’s Character(s) in the K-Drama: A Study

Hi everybody!

First and foremost, I’m not online a lot, and whenever I do lately, I mostly try to spend it by fixating on a certain fandom — which, this time, happened to be the latest K-Drama “True Beauty”. I’ve written about two other study / analysis / meta which you could find here:

Thoughts On True Beauty and Why I’m On Team Suho

Why Webtoon!Suho is Superior and K-Drama!Suho Needs To Catch Up 👏

I’ve recently noticed during my scrolling that there has been a lot of tension between Team Seojun and Team Suho, which... broke my heart a little bit, because for the last eight episodes, I wasn’t really aware of it. I just thought everybody was having as much fun as I was just watching the K-Drama, but you know, we still have our favourites and we still have times when we disagree with the direction of the show, but by the end of the day, it was still something fun to watch, to distress with, and to share with like-minded fans.

Regardless, this is a warning that I don’t write with any intention to specifically target any characters or storyline, whether it be webtoon or the K-Drama. I do equally adore all of the cast, the production; the characters in the webtoon — and I will forever be thankful that I was fortunate enough to stumble upon the story as I did.

To add some context: I am a film student graduate, and I’ve always been interested in objectively dissecting characters, especially from a franchise, or things that came from a raw materials like True Beauty is. For your reference, I am currently at Chapter 128 of the webtoon series, although I am aware of spoilers beyond the chapters. As for the drama, I am at Episode 10 while I’m writing this. (Started at episode 9, continuing after episode 10.)

This is purely an in-depth analysis, if you’re into those sort of things, mainly discussing the major differences between webtoon representation of characters Lee Suho and Han Seojun in particular, and their mirrored selves in the K-Drama. Under the category, I will be touching on:

What the K-Drama changed the characters specifically

How They Stole Seojun Webtoon’s Scene and Character

Why Some of It Worked, Some of It Will Never

How They Highkey Ruined Seojun and Suho’s Dynamics

Why They Didn’t Need to Change the Characters At All, really

Another warning, just so any readers are aware, I am primarily a Suho x Jugeyong fan, but I’ve never really minded Seojun’s relationship with Jugyeong, either in Webtoon and K-Drama. Again, this mostly has a lot to do with how excellent the execution for Seojun was in the webtoon particularly — but I believe we’ll be getting into that.

Also, this is mostly to address the differences of webtoon vs. k-drama (and why some scene worked, why some scene didn’t work), and while I’ll be touching on the issues underlying the characters a bit, for a more thorough analysis or thoughts on the mental health represented by the characters, I would recommend reading:

By Tumblr User imjukyung (speaking about post-episode 10, specifically for Suho)

True Beauty: True Trauma and Unsettling Regression by tumblr user life-rewritten

Last Warning: This is about 5,000+ words. I... yeah. I have nothing to say except it’s written.

1. What Changed Specifically

I think the massive change an audience could probably observe — or if you can’t observe, you would find yourself being annoyed by it at certain point — would be in Suho. Yes, we’re starting with him.

I’ve been noticing a lot that people do heatedly comment that Suho’s “boring” — which, to an extent, I agree. (I mentioned this too in the first meta.) He is a massive play on the “cold and distant” trope, which, in my head, I’d like to call, a massive Edward Cullen case. That trope is often repetitive, most of the time it’s horribly executed, and it’s just, yeah, I’m not a big fan of them.

But again, I’ve mentioned this before, it works for Suho. I think this was what he was meant to be. As reference, in the webtoon even, Sua was never impressed with Suho, and she did repetitively say that the only “good thing that was going for him” was his good looks, and that he’s “boring” (in fact, I believe this is a fact since high school towards their adulthood). So yes, I think he was written like that on purpose.

On top of that, in the webtoon, compare to the K-Drama, Suho really does — nothing.

I’ll circle back to this specific characteristic because it relates to Seojun again, but I do wanted to point out that it is actually a prominent thing that’s to do with Suho. All he does in the webtoon, really, is study. Some of the things we learn later while we read would be that: he reads horror comic books as a sense of escapism, and he’s a good cook.

That’s it.

We would learn later, of course, that it is more than that. This personality is intentional and, most importantly, purposeful. What we’ve perceived as “boring” was used right against Suho — especially in the Prince of Princes arc, where the influencer called Suho out for “never trying his best” when the other contestants, Seojun and Aiden if we’re being specific, truly had something to lose while they were doing the show.

So, it wasn’t just, something the webtoon author decided Suho to be and held him no responsibility over, no — she crafted Suho like that from the beginning, she made us get used to it, and then, slowly, we see cracks of Suho’s “perfect” image and how that backfired. And Suho? He paid for it.

More than the simple cold and distant trope, his continuously monotone exterior actually did raise important questions in the long-run: For someone so smart with such a solid background, why does he seemed the most lost out of the Seojun-Jugeyong-Suho trio?

In my second meta, I wrote this:

It felt like the writers were desperate to fill the gaps for Suho possibly being “dull” [while playing] this typical cool and distant character — when, in reality, Suho’s existence as is was quite enough. He didn’t need to steal Seojun’s fighting ability, and he especially didn’t need to rob Seyeon’s musical passion too, to be interesting and have depths of his own [...]

Which I feel unfortunate about when it comes to K-Drama!Suho, and I still stand by it now. That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the K-Drama, because it could really hold up as its own separate storyline and timeline, but if we start to critically compare, we do see that, in reality, Suho could carry his “boring” character well and the K-Drama probably just didn’t know how to do this well, or thought the reception would be bad, so they added all of these unnecessarily profile traits to have him stand out.

To add, even when all he really does is study and read comic books, Jugyeong still likes him. To Jugyeong, Suho doesn’t really need to be more than what he is - their shared interest and their strong loyalty in ensuring they’re each other’s safe haven when it comes to emotional struggles were already enough for her; and for Suho, Jugyeong’s company as is had been sufficient to make him happy, or have a better outlook in life.

2. How They Stole Seojun Webtoon’s Scene and Character

This is quite a sensitive topic for Seojun’s fans, so I will try addressing this very, very carefully. If you have anymore to add and discuss, feel free — I’d love to know what else I’ve missed or might have overlooked.

In this specific section, I think I’d like to focus on three (3) major Seojun scene that was stolen. The band-aid, the wallet, and the spicy food. Of course, I’ll be touching on things they’ve stolen beyond those scenes because they did incorporate a lot of what Seojun should be experiencing to Suho, or other characters, and why this wasn’t okay — or it couldn’t be held up. But let’s start with the scene first and we’ll slowly walk to what other aspects of Seojun the writers think we wouldn’t notice being stolen.

The Band Aid Scene

In the webtoon (spoilers to those who haven’t read) in Chapter 34, Suho got into an accident in an attempt to save Jugyeong. This led her to be injured on the knees, which, after Seojun was called in, he helped treated. 

In the K-Drama, Suho was the one who treated Jugyeong’s knees – but this happened very early in the series and it was specifically triggered because Jugyeong tripped on her way to run Suho’s errands.

Personally, for me, I didn’t really mind this scene was “stolen”. Now, okay, before anybody comes at me, allow me to explain why: I didn’t think it mattered? Which probably didn’t help my case in fending a lot of you off lol but — I just didn’t think it mattered because in either scenes, it was still an in-character thing for them to do. Each boy would still assist Jugyeong and treated her knees even if they’ve switched places.

What I really meant was though, the scene didn’t really take any of Seojun’s important and/or core personality away from him — which you’ll find what I mean more as we delve on soon — it was just an act which anybody would’ve done for Jugyeong in that moment.

Especially in the webtoon, the bigger focus was more towards Suho who just got into an accident. There wasn’t really any fundamental value or any obvious motivation towards the scene unless you counted Seojun finding out that Heegyeong was Jugyeong’s sister - which, even then, it was brushed over quickly because, of course, we focus heavily on Suho’s state towards the end, and we’re stirring into what really happened between the three S (Seojun-Suho-Seyeon).

In the K-Drama, it was set up in such a way with a clear motivation: Suho apologising for pushing Jugyeong to such a limit and therefore elevating their statuses in comradeship, and for Seojun to notice and took an important interest in Jugyeong after seeing Suho and her together, triggering his consecutive contacts with her afterwards.

Each of them could really hold up as their own separate acts, and both boys are still heavily in-character.

The Wallet

In Chapter 32, Jugyeong (bare-faced) met with her bullies and they had a quick confrontation in WcDonalds. We realise the bullies didn’t really think they were responsible for how they acted, and didn’t apologise. This left Jugyeong devastated, so she left the restaurant premises and went home without realising she dropped her wallet. At the restaurant, Seojun’s friends picked it up — but Seojun was the one who identified the wallet’s owner, and came back just as Jugyeong, now fully in make-up, came to get it. Despite probably having eaten, Seojun invited Jugyeong to eat, noticing she’s in a bad mood.

In the K-Drama, Episode 6 if I’m not mistaken, Jugyeong stumbled upon her former bullies bare-faced. She managed to run out of the restaurant premises before shortly realising that she dropped her wallet. When she turned, she saw Suho was with her bullies, grasping the wallet from them. She ran away, he chased after, and they had their mini confrontation and Suho shielded Jugyeong from being recognised by their schoolmates.

Again, like the first, I didn’t really hold up any grudge over the scenes? Mostly because the difference in context between them?

Allow me to explain: in the webtoon, it was clearly placed that way to show the slow elevation of friendship between Jugyeong and Seojun; that scene also progressed to Jugyeong meeting Seojun’s group of friends later, which triggers to more scenes of them in the future i.e. Jugyeong trying out clothes at the request of Seojun’s friend’s girlfriend and Seojun obviously falling hard during the whole process.

(I also think like these are the first few instances where we’re established a place Seojun and Jugyeong bonded over most besides school, i.e. the shopping street background, because them shopping together in that group, or just the two of them, are relatively mentioned or brought up again and again.)

But that can’t realistically work for K-Drama.

In the webtoon, we’re allowed for a slow-paced friendship between Jugyeong and Seojun to form, which was important, because it was meant to bring us to the tipping point wherein Seojun transformed from being that best male friend (and why he stayed being the male best friend), to her boyfriend. The why, of course, is important — but we’ll get to that soon.

In the K-Drama, we’re not allowed the amount of pace. And, more than that, all of Seojun’s friends in the webtoon, who are high school dropouts or older (and therefore were not attending school) I believe, are replaced by the massive group Seojun has in their shared high school. So, the opportunity as is wasn’t really there, and it was later restricted by the time frame of a sixteen-episodes.

I’ll be touching on the fact that they do make up for this with various scenes, various new opportunities, but you can still see how Seojun falls a little short still to compare with his webtoon counterpart.

Speaking of the context further, technically I don’t think Suho “stole” the scene. The act, yes, I’ll admit to that, but not the scene, nor the core of what bonded Jugyeong and Seojun together — Suho didn’t have an external group of friends which he brought Jugyeong to meet, and he certainly didn’t share the street-shopping backgrounds and have a comforting meeting place with Jugyeong there.

I would’ve been more upset if Seojun confronted the bullies himself and returned the wallet to Jugyeong in the webtoon, only for Suho to obviously rob this scene from him in the K-Drama, when it was obviously Seojun’s highlighted moment. But as is, it happened differently.

Suho’s acts could held up as his own, especially since, different than the webtoon, he already saw bare-faced Jugyeong and knew the owner of the wallet [as he’s watched the scene unfold], while Seojun happened to find the wallet and Jugyeong thankfully had her ID, the one with make-up on her face, which led to Seojun keeping it and giving it back to her when they bump into each other later.

They weren’t really any confrontations about insecurities, past mistakes or the truth to be had; for Seojun and Jugyeong, that scene was only a “beginning” (the first of many events to come, the trigger point on how the rest starts), while for Suho, it was a “conclusion” (scenes triggered by other events first, ending with a specific decision).

The Spicy Food

Now, this is where I get a bit iffy? I wasn’t happy with it, simply put. I understand they amended it in episode 9, but — it still happened. And hoo-boy, they weren’t sneaky about it at all.

In the webtoon, Episode 33, Seojun invited Jugyeong to eat tteokbokki with him. Jugyeong wasn’t really feeling up to eat, but she accepted because she likes spicy food. Later, while having the meal together, Seojun is obviously having a hard time eating the spicy food, which Jugyeong internally questioned about.

In the K-Drama, Heegyeong and Mr. Han went on a date, and then we later find out that Mr. Han couldn’t withstand spicy food. He didn’t want to return the meal though, thinking that he would’ve burdened the staff.

Again, one can obviously just argue that, it happened in different context too, just like it did in the Wallet Scene. Or, better yet, that it’s fine, since they did include this in episode 9 in the end. But — the reason I had a problem with this choice of writing was because, unlike the other two examples, not beiong able to handle spicy food is a major, if not a constant, Seojun’s characteristics and behaviour.

That’s a Seojun thing, rather than a simple action, and taking that from him, or basing it off of him, feels a little... lazy.

Mr Han in the webtoon, while he didn’t play a major part and Heegyeong eventually lost interest in him, was a messy eater. They could’ve gone with that route easily. That he’s a messy eater, and Heegyeong finds herself liking it anyway — that is, if, like how I’ve been viewing the direction of the show, they really do want them to be together.

That’s already been apart of Mr. Han’s already-established behaviour, why take it from Seojun?

Which led us to the few bits of how Seojun is stolen beyond simple scenes.

Seojun’s Character

Now, “stolen” is such a big word. It’s right, to an extent, but it’s still such a big word. More than that, I’d say it’s “chipped”? As in, the true essence of what made Seojun so remarkable and strong as a second male lead in the webtoon is taken apart to have it lend to other characters or, equally worse, downplayed in the drama.

I’ve always had such a problem and it’s a MAJOR problem when Seojun, in the K-Drama, told Suho, “You don’t deserve to be happy.”

Straight-up, honest to god? That isn’t Seojun at all.

Yes, he’s upset. And yes, he’s irritated by what he perceived as Suho not coming to his expectation when it came to their shared loss regarding Seyeon and/or what he thought Suho failed to do. These are all true. Seojun is angry, and he’s consistently angry at Suho until they reach their resolution together — but he would never wish that on Suho.

What drove his anger was disappointment, was a sense of hopelessness, was the loss, but it never came from hatred. Seojun felt a lot towards Suho, but hate to the point of wishing someone’s unhappiness was never one of them.

Just having that spoken by Seojun contradicted a lot to how he behaves in the webtoon — which was honestly this upstanding, responsible and caring guy. And he is!

And while I adore Suho and he has a special place in my heart, I do see a stark difference to how Seojun operates if we compare to Suho: Seojun’s always been straightforward with his actions, countlessly working hard once he sets his mind to something (either that by choice, or otherwise i.e. helping his mom pay the bills, and then pursuing a career in being an idol) — he’s a go-getter.

Suho isn’t, not so directly at least. He’s quiet, and he keeps things to himself, and he doesn’t like a show. Which was why a lot of him “helping out” Jugyeong — mostly driving off weird men or confronting them — happened behind the scenes and without anybody’s knowledge. He doesn’t even really wanna acknowledge it after.

Seojun’s direction in life is clear, too. He wants to work right after school, and he does. He wants to treat Jugyeong properly as her romantic partner, and he does. He wants to be an idol and succeed, and he works hard on it.

Suho, on the other hand, not so much. A lot of the major things that did happen to Suho, it happened externally. Something else was pushing him to do an action. Him flying out to Japan due to his father, him returning to Korea etc. Again, this is a lot to do with his mental health as well, which is a separate post altogether, but I just wanted to point this out as comparison.

Rambling over — yes, if you’re not an avid webtoon reader, just know that, that specific line from Seojun? He would never. That was already so out-of-character of him because, as I’ve said and I will say it again, whatever anger Seojun harboured for Suho, it never came from such ugly or raw hatred. He didn’t understand Suho’s motivation after and/or during Seyeon’s death, and I do believe he could lash out from that - but he never held any extreme grudges.

To add, in the webtoon, that line was actually spoken by Suho when he admitted to his therapist that he think he doesn’t deserves to be happy.

This is also a big thing in my opinion, because it shows how differently Seojun and Suho coped — either with Seyeon, or whatever that comes after. Seojun has always been more prone to anger while Suho, either that added by his fluctuating mental health or otherwise, is prone to sadness.

Now, these are two extremely big negative emotions to be associated with our ever-favourite boys, but it’s true. It’s consistent throughout their characters all-through the story (in the webtoon, at least). And it does play a role, because, again, it showcases the difference of characters between Seojun and Suho, and how they react to situations differently. Seojun with his quick-temper, and Suho, easily feeling hopeless.

So, why is it important to know this?

Because a lot of Seojun’s anger, a lot of that deep-rooted aggression — that was transferred to Suho in the K-Drama. And no cap? It shouldn’t have.

3. Why It Worked, Why It Will Never

Let’s go back to the broader subject briefly.

At this point of the K-Drama, which is ten episodes in, I felt a little moot comparing scenes specifically to what had happened in the webtoon. It’s always nice, of course, to critically analyse any form of entertainment so we could always better our watching experiences or give the proper feedbacks to the creative industry, and while I like delving in deep too, I also have to remind myself a lot to not .... take it too seriously, essentially.

Because at this point, obviously the K-Drama has adapted many of the plot points from the webtoon, and re-arranged it to fit into what they deemed to be necessary to work in that timeline. And that’s okay!

For example, while Seojun’s scene was borrowed to other characters, we do get the opportunity to see Seojun being presented slightly differently. We have that new arc regarding his mother, and we see a whole loveable cast of group Seojun has acquired during his time schooling, and Seojun gets a ton more interactive chances with Jugyeong to make up for what they couldn’t do — that is, the slow progress of them becoming truly close friends till they’re in their young adult years — and every scene of them could still hold up as a magnifying and incredible moment as its own.

For example, that scene when Seojun took care of a sick Jugyeong in the bus, and he said (although I’m recalling only from memory), “I don’t like it when people get sick.” Which I think was super sweet and super impactful at the same time. This didn’t happen in the webtoon, but in the K-Drama, among the first scenes they’ve introduced Seojun in was when he was in the hospital visiting his mother; we also learn later that he actually time off from school to do help his parent.

So obviously Seojun’s cautious on anything that’s to do with somebody contracting an illness etc — and not only it showed in that one dialogue, it’s made more brilliant when Seojun, who can’t really afford any expensive jewellery, made Jugyeong a flower-braid bracelet. I think that was such a nice contrast, a nice touch and ugh!!!!!

That really punched me straight into my Seojun x Jugyeong heart.

We also see a different way of them interpreting and putting Sujin brilliantly into the story. I really want to go deeper into this, but I don’t believe I have sufficient enough thoughts beyond the fact that I much prefer the way the K-Drama built up Sujin to compare with how the webtoon placed Sujin. She has more motivation, she has more leverage, and last but not least, she has much more flexibility to become a serious second female lead and rival.

I do have a problem with how they decided to go with Suho, because again, I think all of the extra personality traits are not necessary. Suho doesn’t need to be a good fighter like Seojun had been established to be, and he doesn’t need to be musically passionate, like Seyeon was, because his own personality and character should’ve been enough. He could carry that personality well; he doesn’t need to be “more”.

Which brought us to this: Seojun’s aggressiveness taken by Suho.

To make this short - it just doesn’t work. It didn’t... really feel out of character, per se, but I'm not the biggest fan of it. I felt like, personally, the writers sort of missed the point of what truly made Suho Suho — which was this guy who was more prone to melancholy-based emotion than anything else — and, in return, (again, I’ll be using the word) they “chipped” away at Seojun because of it.

So, what should’ve been Seojun’s distinctive reaction carried specifically by his character, it was shared by Suho.

Suho isn’t unpredictable, he isn’t quick-tempered, and he isn’t fast on his feet. These are all Seojun’s major personality traits. He’s opinionated, yes, and he isn’t afraid to set his boundaries — but mostly, only his own. One of the more primary example I could give from the K-Drama that I think sorta worked at first glance, but didn’t really when you think twice about it, in regards to this, was Suho chasing after Seojun and Jugyeong after a gang of people were running towards them. (This is after the karaoke scene.)

Honestly, rather than just wasting his energy, it’d be more appropriate if Suho calls the cop.

Suho’s incredibly logical, and furiously straightforward. He doesn’t precisely need to be running around for — what? What was he achieving anyways in the K-Drama by running after the gang? See how it sorta doesn’t make sense? So, yes, if it doesn’t make sense - Suho wouldn’t. 

Again, this circles back to how the different way the boys coped or react, as I mentioned earlier, and it’s important to be distinctive with these because both boys are two separate individuals with two different ways of seeing the world and taking them in, and, cheesy as I may, representation matters.

And when it isn’t represented properly, and I’ll be repeating this over and over: Seojun’s character seems like it’s “chipped away”. Not stolen, no, because it’s still there but — what should’ve been an emotion his specific character should harbour, it feels ... lacklustre, almost. Like a joke: what makes Seojun’s anger so “special” compared to the obvious internalised rage Suho seems to have [in the K-Drama]?

4. How Is Seojun and Suho Dynamic Ruined?

Simply put: observe the way the writers put Seojun and Suho when it comes to Jugyeong.

In the K-Drama, it’s constant rivalry between the boys — driven, of course, by Suho’s possibly deteriorating mental health and the insecurity that came with. But it was also easily flamed by Seojun making jabs and/or crossing the boundaries by being there when he shouldn’t have been.

Now, I’m not into the whole Team Seojun vs. Team Suho thing because the real tea is, that just isn’t Seojun and Suho.

And when the K-Drama writers failed to incorporate how exactly Seojun and Suho had been when both boys clearly shared an affection towards the same person, Jugyeong, I feel like — out of everything, that’s when they lost the biggest essence of what made these two men who they are. 

Because Seojun and Suho? They were mad respectful towards each other.

I think one of the most memorable and important scene, and I carry this in my heart, was when Jugyeong was supposed to go out on that date with Suho, and they promised each other — but then Suho’s father got into an accident, and Jugyeong wasn’t reachable because she broke her phone.

You know who showed up to that date to inform Jugyeong? It was Seojun.

And it was Seojun again who came to pick Jugyeong up and got into the taxi to the airport to see Suho off. Seojun was the one who gave Jugyeong and Suho some time to say goodbye between themselves, tapping Jugyeong on the back when he walks away. That’s how far Seojun really cared for the girl he loves: he was willing to let her love the person she likes.

He was supportive, without being discriminating.

And it was the same again when it’s reversed. During the whole time Seojun and Jugyeong were dating, Suho never once showcased that he was dissatisfied or he wasn’t happy with the development. In fact, again and again, he was supportive. He put in good words for Seojun, he encouraged Jugyeong to always work it out between her and Seojun.

Of course, there are hiccups here and there — but that was the true essence, I believe, of the Seojun-and-Suho dynamic.

Even despite the misunderstanding, even through the romantic interest coming in between them, there will always have this big respect to not go behind one another and put the other down, I think. They would confront, and have their clashing moments face-to-face (but never too aggressively because Suho’s weak and often pulls back lol), but very rarely does it go further than that.

Even when they’re driven with anger, jealousy, or disappointment — you could tell that the bond they’ve shared from their middle school and with Seyeon were always somehow stronger.

And yes, you could argue that maybe, in this point of the K-Drama, they aren’t reconciled yet, which is why they acted the way they did. But I feel like? That didn’t matter? Because, in episode 10, we could clearly see Seojun having the capability of being supportive and putting his good faith in Suho, despite not being on good terms with the guy (e.g. when he advised, “Suho would never do that to you.”) even though that’s quickly tarnished when Seojun, in the same breath, quickly suggest for a break-up.

I don’t really have any defence for Suho because I already felt like him expressing constant aggression towards Seojun is already wrong, misplaced, or poorly written — so whatever action that came after always came a bit off for me. For example, rather than putting the blame for his own jealousy towards Seojun or Jugyeong (i.e. episode eight in its entirety), Suho is the kind of person to blame himself. He would feel that he lacked something, that it was him that wasn’t enough, that it must be him that’s done something to push Jugyeong, or anybody, away.

(Again, echoing his admittance: “I don’t think I deserve to be happy.” or, if we’re going with the K-Drama route, from Seojun’s accusation.)

5. Why They Didn’t Need To Change At All

The worst part of knowing or realising these small details is that, the story could still work. It could still move the characters forward, and have the relatively same outcome i.e. Suho lashing out by the end, threatened by his own insecurity that Jugyeong might prefer Seojun after all etc — but instead, we have these amazing characters that came off at 90% in the drama adaptation, but the 10% that really mattered to their characters weren’t mixed in well enough.

So, the question comes: how exactly should they be acting?

First, Suho’s often more calm — the calmest, in fact, between the Suho-Jugyeong-Seojun trio. This still doesn’t mean he doesn’t have any pent-up guilt, or sadness, or even aggression, but it rarely ever comes out violently. Even if it does, in any shape or form, mostly the emotions are fired back towards himself i.e. experiencing massive self-loathing, self-doubt, which, of course, may in return affect his interpersonal relationships.

Episode 10 played this out nicely, in fact: because we do have a scene where Suho’s being incredibly understanding and respectful in the beginning, but then little things and mistimed events built up (without proper explanations from the other party, to add) and he essentially imploded on himself i.e. lashing out, spiralling, having a mental breakdown, and by the end of it, (trigger warning ahead) committing suicide and/or self-harming himself by walking freely and stopping in the middle of traffic.

Secondly, Seojun could’ve still held so much anger at Suho for what happened with Seyeon and had fallen for Jugyeong all the while, but he could still stay in-character by never explicitly trying to constantly put Suho down. It just goes against a character so substantial for putting his all towards the people he loves, or have loved. And Seojun have loved Suho as a best friend - so for him to act the way he did, to say that line ( “You don’t deserve to be happy” ) especially, that makes me sad.

6. Conclusion

True Beauty, on the surface, will always be a light-hearted romance comedy that honestly has very interesting and well thought-of characters that... don’t necessarily stand out, I don’t think, among other high school K-Drama, but it does represent young adults or teens who seemed to “look like they’re doing well” but a lot of us really aren’t. We’re just figuring things out as we go along, and that’s what Suho, Seojun and Jugyeong seemed to be doing with us: they’re figuring things out as they go along, too.

In the end, there really isn’t much of a point expressing these thoughts except that it gives me simple pleasures, and if it can attract a few people who loves True Beauty too, I would simply die of appreciation. I hope a lot of the K-Drama audience can have a slight knowledge that, yes, Seojun is absolutely super kind, way kinder than he’s been portrayed on screen, and yes, Suho isn’t normally that possessive - protective, yes - he never stalks or particularly demands anything out of Jugyeong though.

Okay, before this got too long again, I thank you for reading!

Feel Free To Ask Me Anything

[crossoversfics]

Boy Genius (Chapter 1)

(Spencer Reid x Malcolm Bright)

Reid pushed open the clear glass doors to the BAU offices. There was a hurried air about the place, which was quickly made even more so when Garcia appeared at the top of the stairs waving him down.

“Reid! We have a case! Hotch wants us to meet him in the briefing room ASAP!”

“Coming!” He called back.

She nodded and shuffled/walked in her trademark fashion into the briefing. Reid noted that she was wearing her fuchsia pink lipstick as well as her most over the top dress with the sequins. Penelope liked to compensate for the evil that paid their bills with her extremely ‘vibrant’ wardrobe. The more she stood out the worse it was. He frowned to himself, the case must be bad.

Almost the moment he was through the door, Morgan grabbed his shoulder and leaned in, “Kid, we found him”. 

For the second time that day, Reid frowned, but he knew exactly to what Morgan was referring, “Dr. Arthur? How? We haven’t had a lead in almost five years.”

“NYPD just called,” Hotch answered for Morgan, “two new bodies were found in Grand Central”.

To be precise, the remains of two bodies were found,” Garcia wrinkled her nose as she clicked through the slides, “Two hours ago NYPD was called to Grand Central Station for a bomber threat. The caller did not identify himself but gave explicit instructions on the location of a bomb. When police arrived, they did not find a bomb, instead-.”

“They found two bodies that had recently been in an explosion,” JJ said softly looking at the images on the screen.

It was all Garcia could do to nod in reply.

Was there any sign of pre-mortem torture before the explosion?” Prentiss asked, a thoughtful expression came over her features.

Yes, and the ME was able to determine both victims were males but they are still waiting on ID’s”.

Reid noticed Garcia peeking at the plasma but quickly she closed her eyes again. He flipped through his paper folder, and noticed a small detail he hadn’t recognized previously, “This says that the teeth were removed?”

Yeah, I saw that too,” Rossi replied twisting his signet ring around his finger, “It says that the ME noted the teeth had been removed pre-mortem as well. What’s that about? Is this a part of the torture?”

“If this is Dr. Arthur it would go against his previous MO. He always left the victims’ faces untouched when he tortured them”. Morgan’s eyebrows knitted together as he spoke.

Hotch chimed in, “That’s the first thing we need to rule out. Five years is a long dormant period for any serial killer so this could be a copycat trying to impress him or is too inadequate to come up with an original MO. Wheels up in twenty.”

Everyone began exiting the room, but Garcia’s voice stopped them.

“Wait, wasn’t this the guy that alternated between bombing buildings and then torturing two men before blowing them up somewhere else? Isn’t that this guy?” She gulped a little as she spoke.

“Yes,” JJ nodded slowly, “Which means copycat or not we don’t have long before an actual bomb goes off.”

She locked eyes with Reid, and he saw the tension in her jaw. “I’m fine JJ,” he said as they walked out, “He won’t get away this time.”

“No he won’t,” Morgan agreed squeezing both of their shoulders, “This time we will bring him in.”

“You sure about that?” JJ’s voice held some very thinly veiled skepticism, “He completely fooled us last time around and it nearly got Spence killed.”

 “That was before,” Reid made sure his voice projected confidence, “Morgan is right. We’ll get him.”

“Atta boy,” Morgan clapped him on the back.

Reid smiled and separated from them to swing by his desk. He waited a moment and watched the others enter the elevators. Once the doors closed, he grabbed a key from under his desk and unlocked his filing cabinet. His fingers flew, knowing exactly what he was looking for. A thin envelope brushed against his fingertips. He pulled it out and stuffed it into his bag. After re-locking the cabinet and returning the key to its hiding place, he glanced around one more time as he stood and made his way to the elevators. It took a minute for an empty one to open. Finally, one did, and he stepped inside. Reid blew out a long-held breath once he was inside. No one had seen the envelope and it needed to stay that way for now.

                                                                ~

It had been almost three hours since the call about the bomb had come into the department. He could not understand for the life of him why the hell he was sitting in Gil’s office and not out at the crime scene. Malcolm felt a tingle in his right hand. He looked down and sure enough his tremor was back. Not noticeable to the untrained eye but to him it might as well have been a siren. He had been doing so well for months and one case was derailing all of his progress. He looked around, worried his mother might show up at that exact instant. She had an unnerving way of doing that. 

Closing his eyes, Malcolm focused on his breathing. He needed to relax, or he just needed a case. That always did the trick and one had landed so conveniently in his backyard. A soft click behind him alerted him to Gil’s presence and he shot out of his seat.

“Gil! Finally! Why didn’t you have me meet you at the crime scene? It looks like Dr. Arthur, which makes this a serial killer case. That’s my specialty.”

“Bright!” Gil held up a hand, “Calm down. We’ll head over to the scene in a minute. I just needed to talk to you about something first.”

Gil looked him over with one of his I-am-constantly-worried-about-you looks. Malcolm focused on controlling his hand. He couldn’t afford a tremor right now. Eventually, Gil seemed satisfied and walked around behind his desk and sat down. 

After a moment he spoke, “The brass caught wind that this could be Dr. Arthur and they called in the FBI.” He paused briefly, “I had no say in the matter.”

It was a while before Malcolm replied. He clenched and unclenched his jaw multiple times. At length he spoke, “Is this a matter of whether our team can handle the case or whether I can?”

“Kid, we are still working the case. That’s better than being taken of it entirely” Gil intertwined his fingers, “All I know is what they told me. The Behavioral Analysis Unit is the one we will be working with.”

“Gil, they couldn’t be more clear if they had written it on the wall. That’s an entire team of profilers!” He glared at the window overlooking the rest of the office. If he thought he needed to control the shaking before he had been sorely mistaken. “This is just their passive aggressive way of saying, how did JT put it, that I’m wack.”

Gil leaned forward and rested his arms on his desk, “They are working with us, not against us.” 

Malcom sighed and rubbed his left temple, “Gil, all due respect, you don’t know the FBI like I do. They probably already know about my unfortunate relations, and if they don’t they’re profilers.” He glanced sideways at his mentor.

Gil didn’t reply.

Malcolm felt a massive tremor coming on which was just what he did not need right now. He stood up and thrust his hand in his pocket, walking to the door. Before he opened it he looked back at Gil, “If you could not mention Dr. Whitly I would appreciate it. I’m tired of having to defend my sanity for the hundredth time.”

Gil nodded, “Kid-”

“I’m good.” Malcolm gave him a tired smile and walked out.

                                                                 ~

David Rossi smiled as he walked into the NYPD office. Aaron was right behind him as they stood in the entrance looking for someone in charge. Rossi had spent many hours in this building back when the BAU was just getting started and there was one face in particular that he was looking for.

“David Rossi?”

He turned to meet the voice and to his immense pleasure it was exactly who he had been hoping it was, “Gil Arroyo! It has been too long! How have you been?”

Gil smiled, “I’ve been good, and better now that you’re here. I had thought you’d retired?”

“Yes, but I found that writing about solving crimes doesn’t quite do the trick.” Rossi laughed, “It’s good to see you old friend.” Then he remembered why he was there, “Oh, forgive me, this is Aaron Hotchner our unit chief and a good friend of mine.”

Aaron stepped forward and shook Gil’s hand, “It’s good to meet you, I’ve heard many stories. I was told you are the leading investigator on the case?”

Rossi’s lips twitched upward slightly, leave it to Aaron to get right down to business. Gil was leading them to a conference room and relaying what he knew about the case.

“This is where we usually do our briefings, it should be big enough, although I had thought there were more of you.” He said looking at Rossi.

“There are. Agents Prentiss and Jareau are heading down to talk with your ME and Morgan and Reid are headed to the crime scene.” Aaron answered.

“Ahh well I have Detective Powell with the ME and Detective Tarmel at the crime scene so they should be introduced here shortly.” Gil said nodding.

As he was speaking, Rossi remembered something, “Hey, Gil didn’t you tell me you had your own profiler? I thought I remembered hearing he was some sort of prodigy.”

Gil smiled, “Yes, that would be Malcolm Bright. He’s our resident genius you might say.”

“Well maybe I can convince him to join the agency then.” He laughed.

Gil smiled again but this time it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Rossi wondered at that but now wasn’t the time to ask. It was time to get to work.

[evolsinner]

⊱┊7

with the moment past {definitely not mentally}, i make my way to the lounge.

“hey, rosé?”

i see him seated on a 3 seat sofa.

a, i hope he didn’t see the way i shaved my hair down there into a love heart... b, he def saw my boobies!!

“y~yes, mr killian?”

“you hungry or something? i can order you some pizza.”

hell, i’m famished, can’t remember the last time i ate.

“no, aha…”

“you sure?”

“actually, yeah, i am, a little... sorry if that’s an inconvenience.”

“no, not at all! don’t be silly. i’m starving.”

i restrict a smile.

“here,” he shifts to the side, patting the middle seat, “make yourself comfortable. i’ll order some now.”

i place his hoody on the armrest and sit on the other end instead; don’t have it in me to sit right next to him. we would be like idk touching and whatnot. amongst the remote and his wallet, he grabs his phone from the middle seat, dialling a number.

“pineapple on pizza?” he faces me, holding the phone to his ear.

i fucking love pineapple on pizza.

“100%,” i reply confidently.

he grins.

i have just found my soulmate.

i admire how laid back he looks: his white untucked dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal thick veins and a dark tan, tie tossed on the table. is this how every male teacher looks after work?

‘cause, yummy!

“takeaway. one large vegetarian and one large hawaiian...with extra pineapple, please,” sir glances at me adorably. “cheers, sweetheart,” he hangs up after giving his number and address for the order. “should be here in 40 mins,” he informs me, “catch,” and tosses the remote at me. “pick a movie. make it a good one. i’m gonna go freshen up quickly.”

can i come?

-ˋˏ ༻🍷༺ ˎˊ-

i struggle to find a goddamn movie!

sir’s phone vibrates and i look across at it. why does that thing be buzzing and ringing all the time? i mean... hmm… i lean all the way back, peeping down the hallway. i listen to see if the shower is still on.

🚿pshhshhshhshhshhshh

oh good, it’s still on. i sneakily pick up his orange google pixel 4 xl mobile phone. okay, let’s see, what’s his passcode? says his pin contains at least four digits. hmm...

1 2 3 4

incorrect pin entered

4 3 2 1

incorrect pin entered

6 9 6 9

incorrect pin entered

his birth year, maybe?

1 9 8 1

incorrect pin entered

it’s definitely mine, then.

2 0 0 0

try again in 30 seconds

fuck, what is it?!

now i’m adamant.

a while later, i listen for the shower again. no sound. fuck me! i also haven’t even picked a movie yet! i grasp the remote and quickly flip through the movies. in ‘newly added’ a film that goes by the name ‘barefoot’ {2014} appears. this’ll do. i haphazardly click on it, put his phone back in the middle seat and swiftly bring my knees up on the sofa.

bathroom door opens and mr killian returns, setting himself down.

and ohhhh boy, oh jesus h. christ, he is wearing grey sweatpants. grey. sweatpants. oh my goddddddd!!!!

🎵dun da daaaaa! dunda dunda da dun dadada oo oo oooooo dun da da

i cringe, really should have skipped the first 10 mins or something.

sir looks at me with an amused expression, “just started?”

i nod, embarrassed.

then he cracks up a little, “how long did it take for you to pick a film?”

“i paused it, was waiting for you.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“alrighty then,” he slumps down, letting me get away with the white lie. “this better be good or else you’re held accountable.”

the professional teacher’s vibe is disappearing and transforming into a perky one.

he’s wearing a loose t~shirt with long sleeves and it’s even rolled up. his hair is damp and floppy, making him so much more attractive. he runs his hands through it, flipping it back as the stray droplets of water roll down his neck. i would gladly lick them off for him if he doesn’t mind...

“why’s my phone locked for 60 minutes?”

“huh?” i snap out of my daydream.

“my phone, why’s it locked?”

*ding dong.*

“maybe...you put the wrong password in?”

“pretty sure i didn’t, and you’re the only other person in this house, no?”

*ding dong!*

“aha..ha,” i giggle nervously.

“does it look like i’m laughing?” he asks me condescendingly.

my smile disappears.

*ding dong! ding dong! ding dong! ding dong!*

“ight, i’m coming!!” sir shouts, grabbing his wallet. “..jesus christ, break my damn doorbell, will you..” he mutters under his breath angrily.

bit hot...

-ˋˏ ༻🍷༺ ˎˊ-

i only ate 2 slices of pizza so i wouldn’t look like a fat bitch in front of sir. he, however, didn’t even eat any. so much for being ‘starving’. he was just casually watching me eat. i could feel his eyes on me each time i took a bite and the odd olive or pineapple went rolling down into my lap. it was so awkward!

we’re halfway through the movie and i felt the need to say something because jay, the character, was such a jerk.

“i mean, it’s actually rather heartbreaking. daisy was locked away for most of, if not, her whole life. and now she is finally free, finally able to experience the pleasures of the real world. she put all of her trust in him and he abandoned her. that’s so not cool.”

as i’m analysing the film, i feel his eyes analysing me.

“well, you can’t blame him,” sir counterattacks. “jay had his own life, his own problems to deal with. she was just another added problem to that.”

“then he should’ve led her back to the hospital again instead of taking her on this joyride purely for his own greed.”

“remember, she chose to take part.”

“he was being selfish.”

“he was lending her a hand.”

“which is what ultimately made her fall in love with him in the first place,” i state like a full stop.

sir’s whole face just speaks wow. “so why didn’t you do my analysis homework then, huh?”

“because it’s boring,” i look him boldly in the eyes, his slicked back hair has me feelin’ oozy and woozy.

“oh, it’s boring?” he emphasises, raising his eyebrows. “is that so?”

“yup,” i purse my lips.

“what was it again?” he grabs my arm, pulling me into his lap. “‘boring’, did you say?”

i’m trying to escape and he’s trying to hold me still. gradually, our laughter dies out and we become aware, so much more aware.

“got some on your mouth,” he says in the heat of the moment, running his thumb over my bottom lip.

there was definitely no pizza sauce or whatever on my mouth, but i play my part. somehow, his thumb finds its way inside my mouth and i instinctively wrap my tongue around it. his green eyes glimmer like shiny marbles as he watches me

suck

on his

thumb.

i feel pressure underneath me, something building up in stiffness. i shift his hand away, glancing down and then back up again. his marble eyes, they just look at me. look through me.

no way in hell did i imagine this moment to actually happen. i mean, most of us girls had these insane crushes on teachers, but never did i think it’d unravel like this.

he firmly places his hand on my lower backside and pushes me closer to himself. “what, you scared now?” he whispers, dominance combined with confidence, topped off with lust.

i gulp, trying to sound brave, “and why would i be scared?”

“you should be,” he replies.

i am lost for words. this kind of intimidation is seductive. all i wanna do is kiss him! though i won’t make the same mistake of glancing at his lips twice.

he speaks in a soft tone, “has anyone ever told you how captivating your~”

“my eyes are?” i finish his cliché line off for him.

“...your lips,” he corrects, casting his gaze down at them.

i bite my bottom lip, flustered for acting like a smartass.

“you know, on some occasions, i’ve noticed that you bite your lip when you’re nervous. it’s cute,” he grins, “i like it more than i should,” and waits patiently for me to fall into his devilish trap.

believe me when i say i’m trying goddamn hard to not sink my teeth into my flesh! which is why i replace it with a mere innocent gulp.

“but on most occasions, you gulp,” he says as i’m gulping.

he removes the hair from my neck.

i get hella anxious, hella aroused so i..

“nuh~uh,” he shakes his head and pulls my bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb. “‘nough biting from you, sweetheart. those are mine to bite now.”

am i dreaming right now?

i try to reposition myself by moving a little back so that i’m not directly on him. as i do this, his erection rubs further into me and i slightly moan kinda too evidently. my eyes open super wide and i instantly shut my mouth. it surprises me that it doesn’t faze him one bit.

“your t~t~thing is p~poking me..” i gesture with my eyes to his manhood.

his orbs shine like someone has stabbed an apocalyptic emerald sunset multiple times. it’s glorifying. magical. the stuff dreams are made from. and instead, he pushes me further down onto his sculpture. he leans his head in, his mouth millimetres away from mine.

“and do you like it?” he questions seriously.

our noses touch, our lips brush...

“answer the question.”

“yes,” i squeak. “i like it.”

i try to remain as calm as possible, but it’s impossible due to the nerves causing havoc inside me, particularly the nerves between my thighs. i don’t know what to focus on. that mouth? his eyes? or down below...

“may i let something be known, luv?” sir requests politely.

i nod.

“i can see your tits...through that shirt...” he whispers sexily.

my breath hitches up.

kiss me! why won’t he kiss me? just fucking kiss me! shit, it’s impossible not to look. i give in and look at his lips. the corners curve slightly into a wayward grin. i see... he wants me to initiate it.

welp, sorry, no can do, mister.

he literally places my bottom lip between his teeth and lightly tugs at it, his breaths hitting my mouth like rose petals. this act is enormously enticing, but i know he’s teasing me.

my turn.

i purposely grind in his lap and he suppresses a hoarse groan. then he scoffs. very conceited. he’s so gonna lose. i keep my lips impossibly close to his for when he forfeits which should be right about...now.

he shakes his head smugly.

i frown, pouting.

he half~smiles adorably.

fine, i have a better idea. one he doesn’t see cumming coming.

i lift away the waistband of my borrowed sweatpants and grip his hand. his body automatically tenses up. i can feel him getting harder from just the thoughts i’m giving him. i bring his hand closer to me. he’s losing and it’s hella entertaining to watch.

unexpectedly, a phone goes off and i jump in fright. i rapidly get off him and he returns to his usual, rigid ways. he aggressively clears his throat before answering that stupid device.

whilst pacing up and down and holding his forehead, he stares at me intently like i’m that fucking maths problem again!

[legolasoftherings]

Second Time pt. 2

Pairing: Modern(coffee shop)!Kili x reader Word Count: 2339 Warnings: lots of smoochin, a tiny bit of jealousy, so so so much tooth decaying fluff A/N: Seriously, not even joking, this is completely full of cliches but whatEVER. Honestly, it’s so cute it made me cry writing it. Also, remember how I said this would be updated weekly? I lied (unintentionally, but still). Happy reading, darlings <3

PART 1

As the day went by, Kili almost completely forgot about you. Customers seemed ruder today, but he pushed through with the promise of seeing you at the end of the day. At 1:57, he heard the door open. “Hi welcome to-- oh,” he said looking up. To his surprise, it was you, “You’re a little early.” “I just needed to come work on things for a little while, and thought I’d come here,” you replied with a shrug and a grin. “Well, what would you like?” “What’s the most caffeinated thing you’ve got?” “I like your style,” he smirked with a knowing look on his face, “One cold brew with an extra shot coming up!” 

You sat up at the bar and chatted as he made your coffee, his smile boring through your defenses. You couldn’t stop yourself from blushing, and you tripped over your words, but he was too caught up in his own nervous thoughts to notice.   “Here you go,” he said with a sweet smile, passing the cup to you. Your fingers brushed his, and you swore your heart stopped. Recovering quickly, you grabbed your bag and choked out, “Thanks.” Sitting down at a small table, you pulled out your laptop and tried to focus on the work email you were trying to reply to, but unfortunately, you couldn’t help but admire Kili as he worked. His hair was pulled back into a bun, but small wavy strands framed his face effortlessly. The t-shirt he was wearing was just tight enough to emphasize his toned chest and biceps, and you quickly took a sip of your cold brew to stop your mouth from falling open. After you had gotten your coffee and sat down, Kili breathed a sigh of relief. I didn’t mess it up too badly, he thought to himself. Just then, he heard a laugh behind him. “Good going, lover boy,” Dwalin teased, slow clapping. Kili hit him with the towel he was holding with a groan. Dwalin laughed and said, “What? I didn’t say you did bad! I think she really likes you.” “Well, thanks for the analysis,” Kili deadpanned. Just then, a customer walked in the door and up to the counter. He ordered a latte, paid, and stepped back. Turning around, the customer surveyed the almost empty coffee shop, and recognized you. “Y/N?” You turned towards the voice, and your eyes lit up. “Bard!” you exclaimed, jumping up and running towards him, “It’s been so long, old man.” He laughed at the nickname, and retorted, “You and I both know that I’m two days older than you. That doesn’t mean I’m old.” “Sorry, I forgot! It means you’re practically ancient!” You gave him a bear hug as he kissed your forehead, his mustache pleasantly scratching your skin. The two of you continued to talk as he grabbed his coffee; you were completely oblivious to Kili watching you sulkily, however, Dwalin was not. “What’s going on, lover boy?” “WIll you stop calling me that?” Kili snapped, seething. Dwalin chuckled and got back to work, leaving Kili alone with his thoughts. You pulled Bard back to your table, and continued to chatter away with your old friend. For you, the time flew by, and suddenly, it was 2:30. “I’m so sorry to cut this short, but I have to drive the guy behind the counter home,” you said. Bard raised an eyebrow at you, and you blushed slightly. “How’d you two meet?” he asked with a wink and a smile. “Just at some party,” you said, pausing, “Do you want to meet for dinner soon?” you asked, changing the subject. “Definitely! I’ll text you later,” he replied, “Bye, loser.” “Bye, dumbass,” you said, giving him a squeeze and kiss on the forehead as you grabbed your things.   Kili heard the last little bit of the conversation as he stepped out from behind the counter and scowled. You smiled at him, oblivious to his sullen face and walked him out the door. Unfortunately, it had begun to rain, and you had parked farther away, and you hadn’t thought to bring a jacket. “Here,” Kili murmured, draping his black bomber jacket over you as you shivered slightly in the damp cold. You looked up at him in grateful surprise, and he smiled softly at your expression. Trying to think of something to say, your mind raced. Finally, you spoke, “Sorry I parked so far away. If I’d known it was going to rain, I would have parked closer.” “Y/N, it’s totally fine. If anything, I’m glad I get to spend more time with you,” he replied smoothly, putting his hands in his pockets. You flushed and quickly looked away, biting the inside of your cheek. The rain felt cool on the skin of your face, contrasting noticeably with your burning cheeks. Avoiding Kili’s eyes felt like the best choice, so you focused on the orange and red hues of the trees lining the rain-soaked street.     When you arrived at your car at last, your hair was damp and tangling. Kili, ever the gentleman, pulled your car door open, bowing low with a cheesy grin. “Thank you, good sir,” you wisecracked, returning his bow with a curtsy, and sitting down in the driver’s seat. He crossed over to the other side of the car, and climbed in. He pulled his hair out of its low bun, letting the softly curling waves spill over his shoulders effortlessly. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help yourself. You could tell he was wrestling with his thoughts, and you waited with aching anticipation. Eventually, he sighed, “Who was that guy?” He didn’t even try to hide the twinge of jealousy in his voice “Kili, please, don’t worry about it. That was Bard, a family friend. He’s like my brother, we’ve been friends forever!” you exclaimed defensively, “Are you jealous?” “Well-” “Kili, you’re jealous!” your incredulous reply came almost laughingly. “Maybe I am!” His abrupt statement sent your mind reeling. You exhaled and put your hands on your knees, unsure of what to say. “I like you, Y/N. A lot,” he continued, his chocolate brown eyes peering into yours for some kind of response, “You haven’t left my mind since the second time I met you, but I don’t know if you feel the same.” “Kili,” you breathed, moving closer to him, “I feel exactly the same.” With that, you leaned over the console and gently brushed your lips against his. Grinning into the kiss, Kili reached out to pull you closer, somehow pulling you over the console and into his lap. Your fingers tangled themselves in his waves, and you gasped for breath. Looking into his eyes, you realized how much you had craved him. Without warning, you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him close. His arms wrapped you up tightly as you breathed in the scent of freshly brewed coffee in his hair. You leaned against his toned chest, and heard his faint heartbeat drumming against your ear. No words needed to be said, and nothing disturbed your peaceful silence until he spoke. “How about I take you on a real date, hmm?” he asked, “What do you think?” “I’d like that,” you replied, looking up at his cheerful face. “Does a picnic sound alright? I make a mean BLT.” Giggling, you answered,“Kili, anything with you sounds wonderful.” “So it’s settled, then. Friday, 6:30, I’ll pick you up.” “Kili, in case you forgot, you don’t have a car at the moment.” “Oh… uh, yeah. I’ll get that figured out.” “Well then, I’ll be waiting,” you smiled, “Speaking of picking up, I should probably take you home.” “Right,” he sighed, “One more kiss?” You laughed and gave his smirking lips a final kiss before you opened his door and moved to the driver's seat. “Do you want the aux?” you asked as you pulled out of the parking spot, “The cord is in the glove compartment.” He pulled the cord out and connected his phone, and you couldn’t help but notice his background. “Is that your cat?” “Yeah, that’s Misty,” he replied fondly, “This is a picture of her a few months ago when she was just a kitten, she’s a little bigger now.” “She’s adorable!” “I could introduce you, if you’d like,” Kili suggested, trying to hide his excitement. Little did you know, this boy loved his cat more than almost anything. “Really? I’d love to, if it’s alright.” “It’s totally fine with me.” He grinned and opened his music app. You noticed a playlist with your name on it, and you raised your eyebrows. He avoided your questioning eyes and pressed shuffle, and a soft guitar and male voice floated in. Looking at your dashboard display, you read: Second Time- Bruno Major. “We were playing twenty one In the pitch black of a country night I was struck like a drum…” You smiled at the lyrics, and began the route back to Kili’s apartment. “I was dangerously tangled, second time I met you And now I'm so impatient to adore you I crashed my car last night.” You turned abruptly to Kili, who just smiled. “My past week has been written in a song,” he murmured, “It’s a sign.” You barely stopped yourself from laughing aloud as you realized he was dead serious. Quickly regaining your composure, you listened and drove silently until the last notes of the song faded out. The next one began, and you recognized the artist almost immediately. The soft piano and humming of Ella Fitzgerald piped in through the speakers, and you were impressed. “I knew you had taste, but I didn’t know your taste was this good,” you commented, as the verse began. “I’ve got a crush on someone Guess who?” As you glanced at Kili once more, he was gazing out the window at the falling leaves. Feeling your eyes on him, he turned toward you and winked not-so-subtly with a smirk.   “I would kiss you again if I wasn’t driving,” you quipped. “You could pull over,” he replied smoothly, laughing softly at your eye roll. “I’m trying to take you home, but we’ll never get there if you keep distracting me.” He raised his hands in defeat with a cocky grin and turned the music up slightly. “I never had the least notion that I could fall with so much emotion...” The music faded into the background of your thoughts, which were running wild. The fleeting thoughts felt like the fallen leaves breezing by your windows, listless and separated. All you could think of was Kili, and your brain took that in all directions. You pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building. “Y/N,” piped in through your daydreams, but it didn’t register, “Y/N.” “Hmm?” “I said, do you want to come inside?” “I can’t stay long, Kili.”   “Well, do you want to come inside or not?” The next thing you knew, Kili was unlocking his front door, and calling, “I’m home!” You looked at him with a raised eyebrow, confused as to who he was talking to, but then you saw it. A small dark grey cat, which you recognized as a Russian blue, padded softly towards you, meowing sweetly. Kili squatted down, murmuring, “Hello, darling,” as the small cat rubbed her face against his palm and looked expectantly up at you. You knelt down next to Kili as Misty approached you and rubbed herself against your legs. “You’re such a sweetheart,” you said softly to the cat, who meowed in response and snuggled her face into your open hand. “She’s never warmed up to anyone this quick before,” he commented, reaching out to scratch her ear, “Usually, she stays away when company’s over.” “Do you have company often?” “Mostly just my brother, Fili, and my mom and uncle.” “Huh. Is being devastatingly attractive a family trait?” Kili laughed and picked up the cat, cuddling her close to his chest as he said, “Yes, but I’m the best looking.” “That’s good to know. I made the best choice, then,” you returned, scratching Misty’s furry face gently. You were so focused on her that you didn’t notice Kili leaning in to kiss your lips. He caught you by surprise, making you giggle into his mouth. The sound was music to his ears, and he almost dropped Misty to pull you closer. You took the cat and gently placed her on the ground before he could protest, and tangled your fingers in his hair. He kissed you again softly, wrapping his arms around your middle. “Ki,” you murmured, slightly surprised at how easily the nickname fell from your tongue, “I have to go home.” “So soon?” he asked, a pathetic frown crossing his features as he leaned his forehead against yours. “Kili, we’re going on a date in a few days. I promise I’ll text you before then, it’ll be like I never left,” you replied, moving toward the front door. “In that case, I’ll be waiting by my phone.” “Bye, Ki.” “Goodbye, Y/N,” he responded, pressing a final kiss to your forehead. You smiled at him, and shut the door behind you. As you stepped down the stairs, you were almost dizzy with giddiness. The cool, misty rain took you by surprise, but it was a welcome one. As you opened your car door, you felt your phone vibrate. Kili: I miss you already You grinned, and moved to get into your car, but it vibrated again. Kili: look up Looking up at his apartment window, you saw him holding Misty and waving at you with a stupid, toothy grin. You texted back, and watched him check his phone and reply. You: dork Kili: only for you, Y/N You blew him a kiss, and he caught it, pressing it to his heart. Giggling like a child, you got in the car and waved him goodbye for the final time before you drove away.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Crane Team: Part 3 - Sun Tattoo

In a conference room, ten chairs have been set up around a round mahogany table. The seven new clan chiefs, along with Nanami Sakurai and Yoko Uesugi, sat around it, facing each other and a screen that featured three high ranking former members of the Devil Clan who were teleconferencing in from behind bars.

Nanami Sakurai sat in a prim royal purple business suit, her hair up in a tight bun. Yoko sat next to her, her hair up in a high ponytail, covered from the neck down. When given the permission to speak, Yoko said, “The legal department has agreed to take up the cases for appeal. They’ve also agreed to weekly status updates on these. However, this will take significant staff away from regular duties.  I would like to request a budget for emergency staff members to handle follow up and logging of reports.”

“How many people are we talking about?” A heavy set man rumbled, completely unconcerned. His head was bald save two tufts of hair over his ears. He smoked from a long Japanese pipe. He was Minato Ryoma, a business mogul specializing in real estate. He was the late Clan Chief Genichiro’s cousin and had quickly inserted himself into the vacuum left by his death with very little fuss. 

“My primary objective is to reassure the defendants that Hydra will take their cases seriously. I will therefore hire 45 people. No more than 10 cases per employee.” Yoko replied. “Pay should be a sufficient living wage for Tokyo on its own so that they will not need secondary employment to focus on this task.”

Minato snorted roughly, his stomach bouncing under the table. “Preposterous. Our finances have barely recovered from this disaster and you want to throw away this much money for this project?”

“Our recovery is pointless if we are lax in pulling the Yakuza gangs together and another war break-...”

Sakurai silenced Yoko with a stern look. 

Yoko sat back against her chair. “My apologies.”

“I will make sure that we do a full review of our budget and accommodate as much as we can to the effort.” Sakurai Nanami spoke quietly and dutifully.

“Genji Heavy Industries is still a wreck. The contractor’s we hired are over priced due to the scarcity of workers and materials. We must build the house before we invite other tenants.” Ryoma grumbled.

The other clan chiefs seemed to agree, nodding to themselves. 

“Perhaps priority can be given to the breadwinners within the former Devil Clan so that some of the children currently in foster can be reunited with their rightful families.” The newest clan chief of the Inuyama clan, Inuyama Ren, was a surprisingly young man of 21 years old. His face was smooth and handsome and reminded Yoko a bit of Chance. He was Katsu Inuyama’s last remaining son. The rest had died in the fighting. Yoko couldn’t argue the practicality of his suggestion but he could certainly see objections in her eyes. “Does Ms. Uesugi have a response to this?”

“Yes… I do agree that this is a good suggestion. However, placement of Devil Clan children can’t all be with Devil clan members. Particularly if their actual families are alive. Parents should raise their children.” She said softly. “Furthermore, the youth of the Devil clan are the least responsible for their crimes and the more likely to suffer future effects. I believe the younger members should have a high priority as well.”

Minato huffed again, “Future…” He muttered.

Yoko’s nails squeezed her hands but the effect of such emotion dampening tactics was hampered due to her gloves. 

From the speakers of the computer, one of the Devil Clan representatives unmuted themselves. “It has been demonstrated that the increase in violence of the Devil Clan were the result of illicit drugs being produced to enhance the bloodline. Before these drugs, while there were violent and dangerous hybrids, the population of berserker hybrids was not nearly as high as after these drugs were produced. The Clan Chiefs of the Hydra could be excused for thinking all Devils are going to die young but that wasn’t always the case. Even the rules stated that Devils could be imprisoned for up to 40 years with hope of release.”

Minato huffed but didn’t dispute this.

“We will run an analysis through the accounting department. I can’t promise 45 employees but making sure each temporary hire is paid enough to focus fully on the work is wise.” Nanami nodded her head.

The meeting dragged on to discuss politics. The mass slaughter and outbreak of violence had alarmed non-hybrid officials. They were pushing through an anti-Yakuza bill and needed immediate reassurance that such shocking events weren’t going to recur. Yoko scarcely suppressed a yawn as she struggled to listen. Her Japanese was phenomenal for having studied for such a short time but the details and intricacies of parliament still escaped her.

Her cell phone buzzed at her side and she peered down.

The message: “The Fuma child was rejected this morning. He’s back at the orphanage.”

Her eyes widened. Why? It had taken ages to finally place that child with relatives after a thorough search. He had been marked, improperly, as violent. He’d understandably acted out after witnessing the death of his family. She had been reassured and thrilled that he would finally be placed with his own clan! Yoko looked up at Nanami Sakurai. “I’m sorry. There’s an emergency. Excuse me.”

Without asking permission, Yoko got up from the table, bowed to everyone and dialed the number to the group foster home.

The placement officer over the children’s group hostel answered right away. “Hello?”

“It’s Yoko. What happened? I thought we resolved all concerns?” Yoko stood outside the door and then walked a few more steps to further conceal her conversation from the conference room. Outside the room,  people were passing back and forth but most of them were on phones of their own. Half the corridor was blocked off with construction tape to repair an earthquake damaged wall, making things extra crowded.

“His bloodline isn’t the problem. The problem is he’s not Fuma.”

“Not Fuma? Then what is he? All his paperwork said Fuma!” She said, dodging passersby and trying to find a quiet spot.

“We don’t know. We don’t know why he would falsify his information…”

“There has to be a mistake. He’s eight years old. How can someone his age falsify information?” Yoko started walking towards the exit. “I need to talk to him. How is he?”

“Distraught but…”

“Of course he is…” Yoko broke into a jog. After the assassination attempt, she wasn’t allowed to leave the Genji building without an armed escort and armored car, but this was an emergency! “Excuse me, are you headed out?” She approached a couple of Executive Board members who pointedly ignored her. Even though she chose to believe they were already busy with their own tasks, most of the Hydra members still thought of her as Ruri Kazama’s woman and wouldn’t willingly help a former enemy.

“Look, I'll try to get there as soon as possible.” Yoko hung up and walked over to the information desk. “Hey I need to get a ride to the foster home. Is there anyone available?”

The woman behind the desk looked harried and brushed aside hair that had gone askew. “This is not a scheduled outing and currently there are no armored cars available…”

“When will the next one be back?”

“Probably not until four pm and that will depend on traffic.” She said with some regret. 

“No, this is too important. Can we recall one?”

Her eyes widened in outrage. “Recall one? And what are we supposed to do with the person who’s actually there on-site?”

“I’ll take her.” said an approaching voice.

The secretary’s eyes widened and she stood up.

Yoko turned her head and looked into a familiar face behind thin rimmed glasses. “Crow!”

She hadn’t seen the man since he dropped her off at Genji Heavy Industries after the Cassell Team departed. She thought he had retired. Crow was the last remaining man on Chisei Gen’s original team. Both Sakura and Yasha had died during the Dragon’s awakening. Sakura was killed by Ruri Kazama. Yasha died blowing up Kaguya’s core in Genji Heavy Industries. The man looked a bit thinner than she remembered and he looked like he had aged with dark circles under his eyes.

He stood there in his usual trench coat and colorful shirt. “Are you coming or not?”

“Thanks.” She smiled gratefully and followed him out. 

The sun was bright but there was a noticeable chill that heralded the onset of the fall season. Hydra members walking by were looking up at Crow in shock, doing a double take, just as surprised as she was to see him back.

Crow led her to a red sports car but didn’t hold open the door like a regular driver. He just stepped around to get in.

“Did you see everyone’s faces?” She laughed. “Where have you been?”

“Taking a long vacation.” He slid into the driver's seat. “Where are we going?”

“The foster home for the Devil Clan children. What made you come back? If anyone deserves retirement, it’s you.” She said, buckling her seat. 

Crow didn’t respond but pulled into traffic. His expression was stony and his eyes were grim.

Yoko’s smile gradually faded. “Did… something happen?”

“No, nothing happened. Old habits die hard.” He pulled up to a stop light and they waited for it to change. After a pause, he added. “I never got to thank you for saving Sakura that day. At Tokyo Tower.”

Yoko looked straight ahead. Sakura Yabuki had used herself as bait to trap dead slave monsters at the top of the Tokyo Tower. Once they were nearly on her, she threw herself off the tower and let them follow her down. Yoko knew there was a rope dangling from the tower, where Fingel had saved himself from falling only minutes before. She had grabbed Sakura and the rope and watched the dead slaves continue their descent to the ground, a full 8 second fall. 

Unfortunately, Sakura would die anyway.

“I just wish I could have done more.” Yoko murmured

“Believe me, we all do. Normally, I probably would have just committed harakiri after the young chief’s passing, but I got my old man to take care of. Meanwhile? Might as well come back here.” 

The light turned green.

“Do you really still hold to notions like that?” Yoko asked with a cautious glance. “I don’t think that’s what Chisei would have wanted.”

Crow’s eyebrows flew to his hairline. “Woah, you two were on a first name basis?”

“Ah… I…” Yoko stammered.

“Ha. I’m teasing. I know you’re not from around here.” He gave a vicious grin however.

Chisei and Yoko had an inevitable conflict. She was a member of the Cassell Team, a devil and in love with Ruri Kazama, the leader of the Devils. He’d hurt her deeply by killing a man named Chance who’d fallen in love with her and fought his hardest to stay alive. The killing was brutal.  She couldn’t like him. But at the same time, she couldn’t help but feel that, had circumstances been different, she and Chisei would have been friends. It was true that Yoko had always referred to Chisei by his first name and she couldn’t remember him ever objecting or correcting her. 

Crow had likely noticed that long before now.

The orphanage was actually a juvenile correction facility set back off the road by two layers of guarded cinder block walls, manned sniper towers and armed guards at the gates. Once inside, a large building that appeared to be something like a multistory hospital greated her with an imposing cliff-like presence. Were it not for the playground out back with its colorful slides and swings, you would have thought it was a military facility.

Crow walked in with her as she signed in but she stopped him from entering. “Dressed in that trenchcoat, you’ll frighten the kids. I’ll be right back.”

The only memories Devil Children would have of the enforcement department were invasive interviews that asked probing and embarrassing questions. One wrong answer and they would be sentenced to death or eternal imprisonment. While the caretakers were kind to them, fed them and let them sleep in comfortable beds, at the end of the day, they were locked behind vault doors that were secured by heavy chains. 

It reminded Yoko a lot of Black Swan Bay. Only these children weren’t controlled by a clapper sound.  The influx of orphans after the Hydra’s devastating purge had left the facility staggering and in dire need of funds and personnel. So placing these orphans with families was a top priority of Yoko’s work.

Thankfully, Sakurai, Inuyama and Miyamoto threw open their doors and opened their arms to the orphans. Fuma and Ryoma however had little room in their hearts for these children. Many of their clan members were orphaned at the Red Well when the massive influx of those strange white filaments swallowed up the Fuma Ninjas who had been stationed in the forest to guard the area. Fuma was extremely hurt by the fact that the Devil Clan leader, Kazama Ruri, viciously humiliated the Kotaro Fuma. But with some cajoling Yoko had finally been able to persuade them to take this one child… but he wasn’t even a Fuma child in the end.

She stopped in front of a door and pulled the file from the slot next to it. The name Tatsuya Fuma was crossed out and replaced with “Unknown”. She knocked twice and opened the door.

The boy who, up until now, had been named Tatsuya Fuma sat on a small bed. His room was neat, with a red rug and a shelf full of small toys that had been donated. Mostly toy cars and one toy gundam action figure. There was a TV but it was off. Tatsuya’s face was flushed and sticky from crying.

“Hey…” Yoko approached quietly until she was halfway across the room and then knelt down on the rug. “Hey… what happened?”

The boy hiccuped and sniffled, his knees gathered to his chest. He stared blankly at the wall.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not your fault.”

The boy shook his head sharply, clearly and adamantly blaming himself.

Yoko knew better than to argue. “Then what did you do?”

He looked at her and shook his head. 

“Are you scared?” Yoko whispered.

The boy nodded. 

“Why?” She opened her arms and beckoned him over. “Here, come whisper in my ear.” Her frequent visits to this boy made her known and trusted. He knew how hard she’d worked to get him placed and they’d grown a bit close. Day after day, she’d visited with candy and toys and talked to him, reassuring him that she was on his side.

The boy got down from the bed and hugged Yoko around the neck. He didn’t know it, but Yoko always wore a wire on these visits. Sometimes when she was with them, the children would whisper to her the secrets of their trauma, bits and pieces that they’d seen and heard. Little by little, Yoko was building cases against certain cadres of the Executive Board.Given the overwhelming dominance of the Executive Board of Hydra, getting witness testimony directly was nearly impossible. No one would dare speak of the vicious attacks on them. Their killers were still alive and well.

Tatsuya hugged her so tightly around her neck she nearly gagged. He was warm and trembled like a puppy. His arms were thin but his grip was strong, like iron. She could feel every bone through his cotton shirt.

“Tatsuya died. They shot him in the wall.” He whispered, then he sniffed loudly.

“Who did?”

“The people with the sun tattoo.”

“So you took his name?”

“Yeah...they were trying to kill me. So I can’t use my name. They thought Tatsuya was me. So I am Tatsuya now.”

Tatusya was a real child, not a falsified identity! This boy had taken the dead child’s name to hide from people who were looking for him. She'd sent the wrong child to the wrong family! That family had to find out on the day their son returned to them, that their son was actually dead. Yoko’s heart felt like it fell into her stomach.

“Okay honey… okay.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “Don’t tell anyone what you told me. Okay? I’ll find somewhere for you to be safe. Can you whisper to me your name?”

“Mitsue Ryoma…”

Ryoma. No wonder he never admitted who he was. Ryoma hadn’t adopted a single child since the purge. Yoko always had a bad feeling about them. Their Clan Chief’s dismissal of her proposal this morning was just one of many. They’d opposed unification at every opportunity. She couldn’t place this child with them. “You’re very smart. Okay. You can keep calling yourself Tatsuya.”

Crow had walked outside to smoke while Yoko was in the facility with the kids. He took a deep drag of his cigarette and imagined the young chief’s arm around him, shoving the cigarette in his mouth and lighting it in a sudden show of uncharacteristic affection. It was a cherished memory that came back to haunt him every once in a while.

Even though the Young Chief never talked about that girl who now called herself Yoko Uesugi, he could tell she was never far from his mind. Especially after she rescued Sakura Yabuki. Crow would notice the Young Chief staring at his reflection in his sword. Sakura returned that sword to him and told him that Yoko had saved her life. It was odd behavior and for a long time Crow’d wondered why he would stare at his reflection like that.

The door behind him opened and the girl walked out, head down, hands in pockets. “Let’s go.” She grumbled and jogged down to the sports car and stood next to it, waiting for him to unlock it.

Her sudden change in demeanor surprised him. “Did things not go well?”

She didn’t answer him. She just kept her eyes down.

Once they were in the car, she pointed to the cigarette lighter in the dashboard. “Does that work?”

“Yeah. You want one of mine?” He reached into his pocket for a cigarette. Yoko, however, removed one of her gloves, revealing the clear scales on her hand, and pulled the cigarette lighter. She took the glowing red-hot cigarette lighter and pressed it to her own skin!

“What are you doing?” Crow shouted. He reached out and snatched the lighter from her, but the damage was done. That white skin was blackened and turning red at the edges. 

Yoko cradled her hand to herself.

“It’s fine… it’s fine.” She whispered but she was cringing in pain. “Look.” She held out her hand to him. The burn was already starting to fade, rapidly healing thanks to her elevated blood.

“Don’t do that again! What’s wrong with you?” Crow shoved the lighter back into the dashboard.

Yoko didn’t answer. She just turned her head back to the entrance of the orphanage. 

Crow massaged his forehead wearily. “What happened there?”

“I can’t tell you.” She ran her hands over her face and massaged her eyes.

“Why not?” He asked, looking down at her from his glasses.

She looked him up and down silently. “Do you have a sun tattoo?”

“I got lots of tattoos… sun’s not one of them.”

“Do you know anyone who does?”  Quiet anger boiled beneath those dark eyes.

“Why are you asking?”

She let out a loud sigh and turned back to the window.

Crow sat back, resting his arm on the steering wheel. “Anywhere else you need to go?”

Yoko squeezed the fingers on her burned hand. “Can we go to the track?”

[overdrivels]

Faint of Heart

You throw up your hands, waving them in a large sweeping ‘X’. “Nope! Nope, noppity-nope-nope-nope. We’re not doing this. No.”

“We must.”

“Are you crazy?” you hiss frantically between clattering teeth. You swing your arm at the scene outside the window, the one of mysterious packages getting loaded into nondescript delivery trucks heavily guarded by plain clothes mercenaries packing more heat than one of Soldier’s barbeques–omnic traffickers. “Look at these guys. No, we’re on a scouting mission, not a rescue one.”

Hanzo heavily resists the urge to roll his eyes or sigh or even shove a hand over your mouth just to shut you up. This is just a rehash of a conversion that you always seem to have with them. A suggestion comes up for something only slightly more dangerous than jaywalking across a street and you’re up in arms, claiming it’s too ‘dangerous’ or too ‘risky’.

Hanzo’s upper lip curls in disgust. A damn coward. Not just any coward–a coward without any conviction. What the hell were you doing here–in Overwatch, arguably the riskiest thing anyone could do in this climate, with some of the most dangerous people on the planet (and space)–when you were too scared to even leave your room half the time?

He glares at you, feeling nothing when you flinch. Hanzo adjusts the strap of his quiver. “We’re going.”

“We have to leave them. I know it’s not a good look, but we have to just take this info and go.”

“Then I’m going. You can stay here or go back.”

Leaving you behind would make his mission easier anyway. But you cling onto the sash around his hips like a child, refusing to let go. “It’s better if I’m with you.”

“Suit yourself,” he says briskly, yanking the sash away from your hands. He jumps out the window, scaling the building, not caring as you inch your way carefully onto the fire escape. He’ll be finished with this before you even manage to get halfway up to the roof. (Then he might have to be burdened with carrying you off the ladder–what a joy.)

Here, he has a clearer view.

There are ten goons out in the open. Two of them–drivers–are shooting the shit. He counts four more hidden, trying to be discreet as the others continue to load up the truck. From the looks of it, they’re a little more than half finished with their work. They can be taken care of last. Fourteen total.

This was originally a scouting mission (“Please use your discretion,” Winston told them. “REfrain from engaging except when necessary.”), but if they continue scouting without taking action, the omnics in that truck might never be found again. While he has no strong love for omnics, being around people like Tracer and Winston may have softened his opinion of them a little. Where a robot and machine once stood in his eyes, there is a glimmer of humanity, more so than what he has in himself, that’s for sure.

Hanzo nocks an arrow, pulling it back and waiting for the wind to sway. Once he gets them, he can swipe their devices, place them in a faraday bag, and bring them back to the base for analysis. If he can do this in the time it is supposed to take the shipment to reach its next destination, they could intercept it.

He takes a breath, the calm settling in his veins. The wind nudges at his hands. He releases his arrow.

Two of the goons go down. The others are slowly realizing. He has another one down before they’re able to draw their guns. The carriers drop their boxes, one of them opens, revealing an unresponsive omnic inside. A brush of anger sweeps past him. It’s gone by the time he has his next arrow ready–that one takes down another and pierces the hover mechanism in the truck, driving it into the ground and unable to move.

They’re turning round and round wildly, unsure. None of them meet his eye or even think of looking up here. At this rate, he can probably take down the rest of them without issue.

Something grabs Hanzo’s ankle.  

“No, please! I don’t wanna die!”

Hanzo barely stops his foot from stomping your head in; the muscle in his thigh bunches so hard it aches. How did you manage to sneak up on him? You’re on your belly, covering your head with your arms, looking like you’re ready to be sick. Instinctively, he glances back down at the enemies–one, twothreefour…five—

Another tug at his ankle–didn’t you learn the first time?

“Ha, Hanzo. We can’t do this. We–we have to go.”

“Silence! We still have a chance.”

A slow sort of muted panic creeps into his bones as his mind scrambles to spot the last person. Where—?

You yank at his sleeve and he shrugs you off a little harder than he means to, but you’re insistent, a constant, desperate hiss in his ears. “I have a bad feeling; this is–this is an order. We have to retreat.”

Ignoring you, he prepares another arrow. He could place a trick shot and make it pierce two targets. That should lure out the last.

His eyes catch sight of an object flying upward. It takes him a half-second to recognize it.

They wouldn’t—

With his mouth agape, he barely manages to close it before you slam into him with your own body, almost making him bite his tongue off. Above him, a blast of light and sound rocks the skies, and it throws him off balance, his ears ringing without sound and vision bludgeoned by dust and debris.

Screams of “I fucking told you so, damn it!” accompany the ringing in his ears when the sounds finally become recognizable.

Shoving you off of him, he grabs at another arrow. He needs to find that last person–they must have more on them. He can’t let them slip away like this. But among his calculations of contingency plans, he didn’t expect you to groan, “I don’t feel so good.”

The sound of retching brings him back to reality–you’re slumped over, holding your head and throwing up what remains in your stomach.

Between the remaining goons who are trying their best to haul the rest of the ‘merchandise’ into the only functional truck they have and you who is more of a liability than anything, he huffs in annoyance as he comes to a decision.

He finds himself having to haul your limp body back. It is not guilt that adds urgency to his step.

---

“You take unnecessary risks–”

“My risks are calculated,” Hanzo shoots back just as sharply as any arrow. The bandages across his face dampens his claims.

“And they put the team in danger,” Soldier finishes firmly, slamming a fist on the table. The reverberating bang stuns everyone except Hanzo into silence. Hanzo, not one to be cowed by such messy tactics, only glares at Soldier over his nose.

“No. It is people with weak resolve who put themselves in danger.”

Winston raises a hand to silence them both. “That is quite enough. Agent Hanzo, I believe you were sent on a reconnaissance mission. Why did you feel the need to engage?”

“And you are comfortable with these omnics being sold illegally?” Hanzo asks coolly, challenging.

This is not the first time since Winston has taken the seat at the head of Overwatch that people have backsassed him or gone against his order. He doesn’t know if it’s because of his inexperience or because he’s simply not human, but dwelling on the individual prejudices of people never really helped him any.

“The mission, Agent Hanzo,” Winston says slowly, curling his hands together, “has a specific purpose for a long-term strategy. By saving these few omnics, we’ve now lost the trail on the entire operation. This sets us back several months of hard work. I believe you are aware of this.”

The conference room is ice cold and tense. Hanzo glares at him with a look that is half guilty and half irritated. Haltingly, he utters, “I…apologize. I will reflect upon my actions next time.”

“See that you do.” Winston then turns to the rest of the room. “We must have a back-up strategy ready. McCree, please get a quote from your friend in the shadows. We will have to pay her price for additional information. Tracer, please ensure the Orca is charged, I expect us to ship out in short order.”

“Yessir.”

“You’ve got it.”

“You are all dismissed.”

The room is quickly emptied of people with Hanzo being the first to leave, likely to train himself into exhaustion. With the door closed and himself alone, Winston lets a giant sigh escape him and he slumps in his chair, picking up his holotablet and turning it on.

Winston carefully thumbs the edge of the screen where your portrait–a half-nervous smile–and Hanzo’s–stern and threatening–look back at him. The two of you are a bad matchup on a good day. Neither of you get along, the difference in ideology drives a chasm between the both of you greater than the distance between Earth and Horizon Lunar Colony.

It was his idea to send you both on this mission. It’s his fault that you were being treated for a concussion. Winston heaved a fur-raising sigh. This is just another facet of management, he supposed. Even so, he does not regret his choice. For Hanzo who faces death like he thirsts for it, you’re the very best partner for him.

Many people questioned his judgment on the matter. McCree threatened to leave again, his tenure to Overwatch 2.0 held together only by the barest of threads and a promise that he’s going to protect you. Soldier: 76 berated him for inviting back people like you and Mei. He’s held back only by Shrike who laughs and says with painful familiarity, “I’ll take care of him.”

He rubs his eyes. Alone, in this dark, cavernous room where nightmares and doubts eat up every bit of space available, he can’t say he feels good about every time he sends everyone off, not knowing if such bright, talented people would ever return.

But that’s precisely why he accepted when you called them with shaking voice and hidden conviction.

Your mission is never to fight Talon. Your sole mission is to get everyone out alive.

---

The kitchen is only occupied by one other person when he leaves the gym showers. Mei is by herself slurping down the remains of what smells to be instant beef noodles. She offers him a smile which he vaguely returns and another bowl which he gladly accepts.

The impromptu dinner session turns into a rare venting session for him.

“–and I would have ended their entire operation if a certain someone wasn’t such a coward,” Hanzo barks, slamming his fist into the table.

Mei whispers, looking down at her folded hands, “You say ‘coward’ like it’s a bad thing. I’m not the bravest either.”

A strangled, inarticulate protest makes its way out of Hanzo’s throat. All the anger evaporates and he’s left with the strange urge to placate her. No. Mei is not like you. She’s here because she has something she believes in. She may be shaking in her boots when she’s forced to fight, but she believes in something and she has something to protect, made into a soldier, a criminal, when she could have had a respectable job elsewhere doing less dangerous things. She’s here in spite of her fear.

But you? You’re here—

The realization gives Hanzo pause.

Why are you still here?

There is no mission that you take that you do not voice your fears against.

You could have turned tail and ran away when he told you he was leaving you behind. You could have just not boarded the train with him to your destination.

If you really wanted to, you could have asked Winston to take you off the mission, and Winston–bleeding heart as he is–would never make you do something you strongly opposed.

No. Even before that. If you were truly so afraid, why did you come back to Overwatch in the first place? How did you wind up here?

Something isn’t adding up.

Your fear and hesitations and reservations are real—they’d better be for all the grief it’s caused him. But what was compelling enough to bring you here into the heart of danger? What is so magnetic that you have not yet left?

What is he missing?

“Hanzo? Are you okay?” Mei asks. He realizes he’s been quiet for far too long and attempts an awkward facsimile of a smile.

“Apologies. I was lost in my thoughts.”

“That happens to me, too. Especially when—” She chatters on and on, the solemn mood from before lifted between them. Inside, his doubts only grow stronger. Even after his conversation and cleaning up the remains of his impromptu meal with Mei, his questions are incessant and loud in his head, to the point they drive his feet away from his room in search for an answer.

When he arrives at your room in the medical bay, Ana is already there with a book in hand–she always did like paperback more than tablets, enamored with the way a story moves with the physical turn of a page, like a long journey that she herself is participating in.

She smiles when he walks in.

“You just missed visiting hours,” she says, gesturing at your prone form on the bed, breathing slow and relaxed. “We were having a nice chat up until ten minutes ago.”

“I see.”

“Did you have something you want to say?” she asks, almost knowingly.

Hanzo does not look at her, finding the bed sheets to be much more interesting. “No. I just came to…follow up.”

You don’t even have bandages on your head or any excessive external injuries to speak of. He probably looks worse off than you do, and that sets off another pang of irritation inside him that almost chases away all the questions he has.

The older woman chuckles behind her book, but not unkindly. She pats the empty seat beside her and Hanzo cautiously lowers himself into the seat as though he were sparing her some of the time he does not have. He does. She probably knows.

From here, the half-drawn curtain prevents him from seeing you and perhaps that’s a good thing. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Is it serious?”

“Angela said it was just a mild concussion, nothing to worry about.”

He nods. A mild concussion. That’s nothing–he’s had his head split open before and still managed to kill three people and make his way back home without blacking out.

“You’re wondering about the choice in staff.”

He only grunts in response.

So it was that obvious. He supposed he never made it much of a secret that he didn’t like your demeanor. It is not a conducive one, especially not in an organization like this. You may gather and compile data, but anyone can do that from the safety of their own home. You didn’t have to come here where you’re a literal sitting duck, unable to defend yourself if the base were to be raided.

So what brought you here?

Ana smiles mysteriously as she closes her book. “Such staffing choices are necessary.”

“Is that so?”

“You don’t think so?”

“No,” is his automatic reply. There’s no point keeping secrets from Ana. Age has only made her intuition sharper, he suspects.

“People who can sense danger and run at the slightest hint of it can save more lives than just their own. We need people like that if we want Overwatch to survive longer than the last time. They see the writing on the wall the fastest and find the quickest way out. It’s a vantage point that we”–Ana waves at the room with a good-natured chuckle–“do not have.”

“Is that so,” Hanzo says again, not entirely convinced of her reasoning, but unable to refute it so easily either.

“You should think about it. Variety is the spice of life, and goodness knows Overwatch is full of it.”

Hanzo sneers to himself. Full of it. Yes. Full of it, indeed. He takes one last lingering look at your shadow from behind the curtain, doubt and irritation painted in a newer light with Ana’s musings. He still does not agree someone like you should be here. He is no closer to figuring out why either, but it’s unlikely he’ll get an answer.

“…I will consider it,” he says finally, getting up from his seat. “Good night, then.”

“Good night to you, too. Sleep tight.”

After he leaves, Ana’s smile only grows.

“He’s gone.”

A dramatic sigh of relief comes from behind the curtain and she chuckles softly to herself.

“I thought he’d never leave. He’s scary as fuck,” you grumble. “I was so nervous I thought I was going to throw up again.”

“Good job; you held it in.”

“Don’t expect me to do that again.”

Ana opens her book again, leaning into her chair. “You are their leash. Until they learn to take your concerns seriously, I’m afraid these are the methods you’ll have to resort to.”

You grumble something unflattering beneath your breath. The curtain may as well not be there; Ana can guess what sort of expression you’re making. “Rest now. There will be much to do when morning comes.”

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Candy Crush

New AU

———————

“You come here often?”

“Well, I work here, so I’m gonna have to say ‘yes’.”

Anna did her best not to frown when her attempt at flirting completely missed its mark. The girl standing on the other side of the counter is staring at her with the big, deep blue eyes that made Anna fall head over heels in love with her the day she first walked into Sweet Thrills. She tilts her head a little, as if she were a confused puppy, and that simile makes Anna’s heart melt inside of her chest.

“Ma’am?” The worker says, concern growing on her features. “Ma’am, are you alright?” Her voice, toned with an accent Anna believes is Italian, maybe Ukrainian (YES she KNOWS those two are two entirely different accents but with the slight British undertone from life in London, it was hard to put her finger on the exact tone), is as sweet as the drops of honey being sold on one of the counters a few feet away.

The rainbow fairy lights strung up around the sweets shop illuminated this girl’s soft, young features. The glow casts a multi-colored halo over her head, which then spills down the sides of her long, slightly scruffy, but silky-looking black hair. She’s got hands like wolf paws, minus the menacing claws, but the frame of a sun bear- moderately well built and small (Anna has to look down at her, actually). Bangs fall into those jewel-like, haunting blue eyes, swaying with her movements and occasionally falling into the orbs of sapphire that bring out the rest of her pale, but pretty face. Glasses top it all off, balanced on the bridge of her cute little nose.

“Ma’am?”

“Yes,” Anna said quickly, “Yes, I’m fine. Just dozed off a little.”

The worker nodded, smiling softly. It doesn’t really meet her eyes, which Anna notices holds a deep sadness and pain in, but it’s genuine nonetheless.

“Alright,” She said, “Have a good day.”

“You too!”

———

When Anna returns the next day, she smiles at the girl over the counter as if to say, “Yes, I’m here again.”

So, here she is, again. Walking towards the peppermint creams, her devil candy, again. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices the girl take off her glasses and dutifully clean them with her shirt.

She looks very cute without them on.

Soon enough, Anna’s standing in front the counter again, gently placing the peppermint creams in front of the girl to weigh. She’s smiling sheepishly.

The girl grabs the candy, weighing it with an amused eyeroll. She doesn’t think Anna would have caught it, but she does.

“No judgement, miss sweet clerk. A woman needs her snacks.” Is what she ends up saying.

Anna watches as the girl’s head short-circuits, seeming to be simultaneously anxious, embarrassed, and guilty.

“Better than liquor, I guess.” She finally replies, not managing to make direct eye contact with the customer. She’s so awkward- it’s adorable, yet sad at the same time. How could someone be so anxious?

“I suppose you’re very much right.” Anna nods, handing the girl the money to pay for her snack. She watches her fumble with the change before adding, “Keep it.”

“What?” The girl looked up.

“Keep it.” Anna said again.

“A-are you sure? This is a lot of change-”

“Of course,” Anna smiled. She takes the candy, watching the girl stare at her, stunned, “See you later!”

———

Anna returns two days later and is ecstatic to see the pretty girl was working.

When she walks in, said girl smiled and greeted her with the usual phrase workers said to new patrons (not that Anna was new...this was probably her sixth trip to the shop within the month).

After picking out her usual candy, she goes to pay and starts to script what she was about to say to the girl.

“Will that be all?” The girl asked.

“Yeah,” Anna replied.

The girl hums and rings Anna up. After saying their goodbyes...Anna leaves.

Goddamnit.

———

It’s a week later this time. Rain is pelting from the sky, but Anna still makes the journey into the candy store. She thanks the lord when she sees that the cute girl was working, so she didn’t just almost get pneumonia for nothing.

When she walks in, the girl, who appears to be the only one working (and also isn’t wearing her glasses, Anna’s useless gay brain notes), perks up, her eyes widening in alarm and concern. The fact that she seems to be worried over Anna makes Anna’s heart flutter.

“You must really like sweets if you came here in that weather,” The girl said, easing herself back down onto her stool behind the counter. She brushes the papers she was working on aside and stands up to get ready to ring up Anna, who was setting her umbrella by the door.

Not as much as I like you.

“You could say that,” Anna said instead, which her gay brain grumbles at her for. She probably could have ended her miserable pining by saying that. Maybe.

After getting rung up, the girl glanced anxiously over Anna’s shoulder, watching the rain come down harder. Her eyes bulge a little when lightning struck nearby and the sky becomes an uproar of crashing thunder.

“I don’t think it’s safe to go back out there.” She said, “You should stay in here. I’ll go grab you a stool.”

She got up, stumbling for a moment when she must have stepped wrong, pawed for her glasses, put them on, and disappeared into the back of the store. Before she returns, Anna glances at the papers and spiral notebooks stacked beside the cash register and saw notes and work on...she squints at it...murder cases?

Notes on Richard Chase, Jeffrey Dahmer, Harold Shipman, Ed Gein, were scribbled on the pages in great detail about what they’ve done, which included a lot of cannibalism, necrophilia, torture, and even skinning people to make furniture and clothing out of their flesh (god that Ed Gein guy sounds horrible...thank the lord he’s in America! And dead).

When the girl returns and notices that Anna was reading her work, her cheeks blazed so red the blush reached up to her ears. She hunched her shoulders around her neck, clearly embarrassed, and quickly scampered around the counter to put the stool down for Anna before returning to her own seat.

“I-” She tried to say, but couldn’t quite find the words. Her blue eyes cast down, dulling slightly with shame. “You probably think I’m crazy.”

“No, not at all.” Anna said quickly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snooped.”

“No, it’s okay,” The girl said, “I shouldn’t have left my things lying around in the way.” She nervously rubbed her palms against her pants. “Um- I’m majoring in forensic science in college.” She explained. “That’s- that’s why-”

“Oh!” Anna said, “Oh, that makes sense!” She smiled at the girl, relaxing her slightly. “Do you like it?”

“Totally,” The girl smiled a little, “It’s fascinating! We’re learning EVERYTHING there is to know. Entomology, toxicology, trace evidence, fingerprints, blood splatter analysis, DNA- everything. It’s so,” Her hands flutter as she tries to find the words, “-it’s incredible. There’s a case-” She plucks up her journal and flips through the pages until she comes to a specific one and shows it to Anna. Notes on a case about a dismembered torso is scribbled on the pages. “-on this unidentified torso that was found and the pathologists were able to find out who it was by using the HIP BONE. Nothing else! Isn’t that incredible?”

“Yeah,” Anna agreed.

“Oh- I’m sorry.” She’s blushing again, but this time it’s a shy blush, equally as adorable as the one from before. “I’m babbling.”

“No, no, it’s alright!” Anna said, “You love what you’re learning. That’s great!”

The girl smiled. “What about you? What are you majoring in?”

“Music,” Anna answered. “I don’t have much to say about it, though. Not as much as you.”

The girl giggled and her eyes glitter in a way that makes Anna’s heart thump wildly.

“Sounds fun!” She paused, “You know, I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh, right! I’m Anna.” Anna said, “Anna Cleves. I’m twenty. Moved from Germany to here in London two years ago after high school to go to college.”

“Ah,” The girl nodded. “Germany, huh? Is it nice?”

“Oh yeah,” Anna said fondly, remembering back to her home. “What about you? What’s your name?”

“Elizabeth Blount,” The girl said, “But I go by Bessie.”

“Bessie?”

“Yeah,” She seems a little shy. “I know there’s a lot of other better nicknames I could go by- Eliza, Lizzie, Liz, Beth, Ellie- but, umm...” She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, “I really liked cows when I was little. Like- REALLY liked cows. And when I found out that Bessie was a stereotypical name for cows I was like, ‘Oh my god I have to go by that!!’ So I did! And it’s just stuck over time. But you should have seen my mother’s face when I first told her!”

Anna didn’t think she could fall for this woman any further, but that was just proved wrong.

“Oh my god,” She said, “That is absolutely adorable!”

Bessie smiles bashfully. She seems much more relaxed now.

“Really? I thought it was kinda weird.”

“No way!” Anna shook her head, “That’s so cute.”

“Thanks,” Bessie said shyly. “Oh, and I’m nineteen, by the way. I moved here from Italy when I was fourteen.”

So it was an Italian accent she had, then.

Anna nodded and leaned forward, propping her elbows up on the counter. She and Bessie basically began to do icebreakers, sharing things about each other, and by the time the rain slowed enough for Anna to go home safely, they seemed to be the closest of friends.

“It was really nice talking to you, Anna.” Bessie said. “Will you..” Her shyness returned, “You will come back, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

And Bessie genuinely beamed.

———

Three days later, Anna returned.

When she walked in, she saw that Bessie seemed a little...upset. Her eyes were dull as she stared blankly at the counter, not paying much mind to the customers inside unless they were paying. She was so distracted that she didn’t even notice the woman standing near the display of fudges, calling for her.

“Excuse me!” The woman finally roared, startling Bessie to awareness. Her annoyance didn’t diminish when Bessie turned to her with such a frightened, pitiful expression. “I’ve been waiting for you for TEN MINUTES!”

“I’m sorry,” Bessie whispered, dipping her head low and scampering over. She could definitely feel the prying eyes of the other patron’s burning into her. “I’m very sorry, ma’am.”

“You should pay more attention,” The lady growled. “Stupid girl. What could be so important that you couldn’t do you job?” She scoffs, “I’m sure you were thinking about getting with one of your male coworkers behind the store.”

Bessie paled. She’s paralyzed in her spot, eyes widening.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

Bessie doesn’t answer. Her bottom lip is trembling slightly.

“Of course.” The lady sneers, “I bet you aren’t even wearing an underwear under those pants. So ready to get knocked up, aren’t you? You dirty s-”

“HEY!!”

Anna practically charges the woman, shoving her so hard she stumbled backwards into the display glass for the fudge squares. Her fists are clenched, ready to strike and bust open the head of this middle-aged Karen like a jawbreaker, and her eyes are alight with rage.

“Excuse me!” The woman yelped from being pushed. “What is your-”

“Leave her alone.” Anna seethed, “Don’t fucking talk to her like that, you fucking bitch. You have no right.”

“And you have no right speaking to ME like that!” The woman barked.

“What do you mean? Unlike what you’re spewing, what I’m saying is true.” Anna said, “Get the fuck out. And never talk to her again!”

With a final glare and a huff, the woman storms out. Once she’s gone, Anna releases the breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding and turned around...but Bessie wasn’t there.

Anna looked around, then dared to step behind the counter and go into the employees only section. There, she hears crying and finds Bessie in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet. This sends Anna to her side instantly.

“Oh, Bessie...” Anna murmured, trying her best to not look into the toilet, as she was sure the girl has already exhausted herself by emptying her stomach into it.

Bessie let out a strangled whimper and heaved again. Anna quickly grabs her long black hair and holds it out of the way, rubbing her back comfortingly with her other hand.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Anna murmured, “Just get it out, darling...it’s okay.”

After a moment, Bessie finally pulled back, panting heavily.

“Done?” Anna said softly.

Bessie nodded and flushed the toilet with a shaky hand. She uses her other to press the heel of her palm to one of her eyes, which are spilling out tears.

“I’m sorry,” Bessie whispered, hiccuping softly. “God, I’m- I’m so sorry. This is so gross. I shouldn’t have- You- I-”

Anna’s heart broke at how scared the girl was. Gently, she brushes a lock of hair out of her pale, tear-stained face and had the overwhelming urge to kiss her forehead, but managed to restrain herself from doing so.

“Shh, shh,” Anna hushed her. “It’s alright, darling, I promise. It’s alright.”

Bessie’s ears glow red like licorice when she’s referred to with the pet name. She ducks her head a little, clearly flustered.

“Okay,” She said quietly. “I just- What she said...it...”

“Was horrible.” Anna said for her. “It was horrible, Bessie. She had no right.”

Bessie just shrugged.

“Wanna know why?” Anna said, and Bessie looks up at her a little. “Because,” She cups either sides of her cheeks and lifts her chin so their eyes meet, “You’re a wonderful, beautiful young woman. You aren’t anything she said about you.”

The blush creeps onto Bessie’s cheeks and fresh tears spill down her face. She collapses into Anna’s arms, sobbing into her chest and thanking her over and over again.

Anna holds the weeping girl protectively, rubbing a hand up and down her back and rocking her gently. Right then, she vows to protect Elizabeth Blount. No matter what.

———

Two days later, Anna strides confidently into Sweet Thrills with a present bag dangling from her wrist. However, she deflates when she doesn’t see Bessie. Rather, a woman her age with her brown hair done in space buns is standing behind the counter. She looked as if she spoke in the verbal form of italics all the time.

Anna looks around with a disappointed expression and is about to make her awkward exit (she didn’t buy anything, after all) when she notices the worker at the counter grinning widely. She watches the woman crane her neck around and shout over her shoulder.

“Hey, B!” She called, “Your stalker is here!”

Anna wrinkles her nose, but her expression brightens when she sees Bessie’s pretty little head peek out from the employees only doorway. The girl matches her expression, beaming when their eyes meet, and she’s immediately walking over. The two of them actually hug, and it makes Anna’s heart beat wildly inside of her chest.

“Hey, lovely,” Anna grinned down at her, daring to brush some hair out of Bessie’s pretty eyes. She can’t help but smile even wider when Bessie leans slightly into her touch. “How are you?”

“Better, now that you’re here.” Bessie said, a soft smile curving perfectly on her pink lips, like arcing a Twizzler.

“Awww,” Anna cooed. “You sweetie.” She pokes Bessie’s shoulder, causing her to squirm away with an adorable giggle.

“I’m not the sweets, Anna.” Bessie said.

“You’re right,” Anna nodded knowingly, “You’re sweeter than the sweets.”

Bessie raised a hand to hide her blushing face and to muffle her flustered giggles.

“Reel it in, B,” Comments the worker at the counter.

Anna turned to her, ruffled and slightly defensive, ready to protect the girl at her side if she’s rudely spoken to again. She settles only because Bessie gently touches her arm and looks up at her, her eyes basically saying, “It’s alright. Calm down.”

“This is Anne,” Bessie said, nodding at her coworker. “Anne, this is Anna.”

“So, you’re the mystery girl Bessie has been telling me about.” Anne props her elbows up on the counter, resting her chin in her hands. She squints, “You are pretty.”

That doesn’t make Anna blush, rather just tilt her head.

“What? Not cute when I say it?” Anne shrugs, “Alright.”

“Anne, don’t you have to stock the sweet jars?” Bessie said, punctuating her sentence with a sharp, but pleading arch of her eyebrows.

Anne blinked, then smirks. She titters, stepping back.

“Right,” She said with way too much emphasis. “Just remember: The creams are over there.”

“ANNE!!”

Anne laughed loudly and went to the back to get the candy she was “supposed to restock”.

“I’m sorry about her,” Bessie said quietly, “She’s great, I swear.”

“Great at parties, I bet.” Anna chuckled. “Are you alright? That comment didn’t...” After seeing Bessie puke over just a few words about her being accused of being a slut and not over her gruesome major, Anna was able to put the pieces together that Bessie must have had a sensitivity to sexual subjects. Any reason for it that her brain went to made her stomach twist up.

“Yeah,” Bessie nodded. “It’s- it’s different when Anne does it. She knows not to but sometimes she forgets and I understand that.” She steps back, moving to return to the counter when she notices the gift bag hanging from Anna’s wrist. “What’s that?”

“Oh!” Anna remembered the exact reason she was there and proudly presented the bag to Bessie, who seems shocked. “It’s for you.”

“F-for me?” Bessie stuttered. She notices Anne’s head shoot out from the aisle she was working in, but dismisses it for now.

“Yeah.” Anna smiles widely, “Open it!”

Bessie hesitates, then plucked away the paper sticking out of the bag. What she pulls out is a stuffed cow.

“Her name,” Anna said proudly, “is Elizabeth. Because she really likes humans and when she found out Elizabeth was a human name, she HAD to go by it.”

“That’s why Bessie goes by Bessie!!” Anne cried from her aisle. When Bessie and Anna both look over at her, she yanks her head out of sight and goes back to restocking.

“Anna...” Bessie murmured, staring down at the fuzzy thing’s black and white face.

“Do you like it?” Anna grinned.

Bessie doesn’t say anything.

“You...you don’t like it, do you?” Anna’s grin falls.

She knew she was pushing it. She knew she was stepping too far- how could she do this? Especially after her revelation about Bessie. How could she do this to the poor girl? She’s probably so scared. She probably doesn’t want to speak to her ever-

“I love it.”

Anna’s head popped up in hope.

“You do?”

“Anna, I love it.” Bessie just said again. She cuddles the cow close to her chest, lowering her head to nuzzle her nose into the fur between its ears. She didn’t care how childish it looked. “I love it so much...”

Anna’s grin returned. She pumps her fist in victory and her elbow nearly jabs Bessie when the girl flung herself into her arms.

“Thank you, Anna,” Bessie said, hugging Anna with one arm and the cow- Elizabeth- with the other. “She’s perfect.”

Anna hugged her back tightly, swaying her ever so slightly. She hears Anne go, “awww” from her aisle, but ignores her because Bessie was much more important.

“You’re welcome,” Anna said. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I really, really do,” Bessie said. She pulled back and quickly wiped her eyes.

“Oh- don’t cry.” Anna said, going to thumb away Bessie’s tears as well.

“Sorry,” Bessie laughed slightly. “This is- this is just so nice of you to do for me.”

“Anything for you.” Anna said.

“God, you two are SO CUTE.” Anne yelled from her aisle. When her comment is met with silence, she knows her direction is being stared at without even seeing the unamused eyes, so she adds, “SORRY!”

———

The next time Anna comes in, Anne is working at the counter again. The space bun girl jumped around so fast her hair nearly comes out of their seemingly trademarked buns and yelled, “B!!” Then, Bessie is hurrying out with a small, potted banzai tree in her hands.

“Anna!” Bessie smiled widely.

“Hey, sweets,” Anna smiled back. She casts a curious look at the tree, “Is that a new candy?”

Bessie giggled and lightly swatted at Anna’s arm.

“No, silly!” Bessie said, then held up the awkward, lanky, zig-zagged banzai as if it were the most magnificent tree to ever grow on God’s green earth, “His name is Herman.”

“Herman?” Anna echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes. Herman.” Bessie nodded.

Anna raised her hands and sets them on top of Bessie’s so they’re both holding the pot (really, Anna just wants to touch Bessie’s hands- they’re quite a bit smaller than her own and she thinks it’s adorable).

“Do you like him?” Bessie asked, looking up at Anna. Her eyes are holding the cutest expression ever- almost childlike or puppy-like. “He’s our tree. Since you come over so often. We can water him together.”

Oh my god we have a tree together.

“I love him.” Anna said and Bessie beams.

And I love you, They both think.

And Anne’s thoughts mused, GAY!!!

———

It’s late when Anna returns. After closing time, to be exact, but she still parks. She walks to the entrance, finding it open, so she thinks it wouldn’t be a bother to walk in since she was so close to one of the workers.

Speaking of Bessie, the girl is in the far left corner, restocking the American candies. She doesn’t notice Anna, despite the little golden bell that chimes when the door is opened, and Anna is about to say something when she realizes something.

Bessie was singing.

“Girls, we do, whatever it will take

'Cause girls don't want, we don't want our hearts to break in two”

Her singing voice is like smooth, warm caramel, oozing steadily from her lips. Husky, yet warm at the same time, and her accent adds a whole other chilling undertone to the words. It draws Anna in almost instantly- a haunting melody that slithers up her neck like a candied snake and coils in her ears.

“So it's better to be fake, can't risk losing...”

Anna steps quietly over to the counter where Herman is displayed. She notices that his soil isn’t damp, meaning he has yet to be watered that evening, so she plucks up the miniature indigo watering can with red roses on it (when Anna saw it at the grocery store, she knew she HAD to get it- when it was brought into Sweet Thrills, Bessie teasingly had said, “You spoil him too much!” to which Anna went, “Yes, I do. I’m TRYING to be his favorite mum, after all!”) and sprinkles some water into the pot. After patting Herman’s round hedge of leaves (“That’s his afro. Our son has an afro.” -Bessie), she turned her attention back to Bessie. At that point, her singing was all she could hear.

“In love again, ba-abe”

After that, the beat dropped and Bessie did the most adorable thing: She jumped. She jumped with the beat and began dancing in her spot as she sung.

“This is how to be a heartbreaker

Boys they like a little danger”

Bessie was bouncing on her heels and swaying back and forth and bobbing her head- and Anna was nearly on her knees because this girl was absolutely perfect. She was completely smitten with this sweet shop, forensics major, and she wondered what she had done to make God so proud, because Bessie was perfect- she was a blessing.

“We'll get him falling for a stranger

A player, singing I lo-lo-love y- AAHHH!!!!”

While twisting around on her heels, Bessie had finally noticed that Anna was inside with her, watching her.

She must have leapt ten feet off of the ground, and when she landed, she landed right into the box of candies she was putting on the shelves, causing her to slip and fly backwards. Her head thumped horribly against the shelf behind her before she crumpled into a shivering ball, keening in pain.

“Bessie!!” Anna cried, racing to her side. She kneels down and reaches for the curled up girl below her, eyes wide with fear. “Oh my god, oh my god, Bessie! I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Bessie!”

“Ow...” Bessie moaned against the wooden floor. She pried her eyes open, panting for a moment to catch her breath after the fright that overcame her. She reached back to rub her head and pushed herself up with her free arm. “A-Anna?”

“Yeah, darling, it’s me. It’s just me.” Anna said, her hands hovering, ready to catch Bessie if she keeled over. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just- I heard you singing and I couldn’t get myself to interrupt you because- God, what am I doing? I shouldn’t be gushing right now. Are you okay? Should I call 999?”

“You heard me singing?” Bessie blushed shyly, not answering the question asked of her.

“Well- yeah.” Anna nodded. “But are you okay? Are you bleeding?”

“No,” Bessie shook her head, wincing slightly. “It hurts, that’s all.”

“I’m so sorry,” Anna said. She reached out and gently cupped Bessie’s cheek, which she leans into like a kitten seeking affection, using the other to reach around her head and carefully feel for a gash. When Bessie whines softly, she knows she’s found the injured spot- there’s definitely a bump forming, but no blood and no open wound. She sighed in relief. “Can you stand?”

Bessie nodded and stood up. She stumbled a little, but Anna quickly catches her, and that ends with Bessie pressed close to her chest. She looks up at the taller woman with big eyes, cheeks dusted with red.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I watered Herman.”

“He missed you.”

“Did you?”

“Of course.”

Anna smiled widely.

“I’m glad.”

Bessie pulled away and turned back to the box of candies she had been working on. She clearly seems conflicted- she wanted to spend time with Anna, but had to finish work.

“I’ll help you.” Anna said, sensing her dilemma.

With that, they began tag-teaming the rest of the work Bessie was supposed to do. As they did so, Bessie asks, “If you don’t mind me asking...why come to a sweet shop so often? You could be at clubs or frat parties or a sorority...but you don’t.”

She paused.

“Is..is it because of me?” She whispered.

Anna looked up from the Milkyways she was putting into their specific bucket and met Bessie’s deep blue, gorgeous eyes.

“Yeah.” She smiled. “Well,” She went on, “And Herman.”

Bessie giggled, and they both looked over at their banzai son. Then, their heads craned up when a familiar, iconic piano tune began to play from the speakers overhead. Anna smirked widely and stood up, extending a hand to Bessie.

“Care to dance?”

“Heart beats fast

Colors and promises”

“I would love to.”

“How to be brave?

How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?”

Bessie takes Anna’s hand and was pulled to her feet. The two of them got into the proper position and began to slowly dance.

“But watching you stand alone

All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow”

Bessie started to sing along to the song, blessing Anna’s ears once more. She giggled lightly in between the lyrics when Anna twirls her.

“One step closer...”

They picked up the pace a little, swaying with more energy, but kept their synced movements careful and smooth.

“I have died every day waiting for you

Darling, don't be afraid...”

Anna was not afraid.

Dancing in a sweet shop, under the rainbow fairy lights strung about the building, with the most beautiful girl to ever exist, Anna could not be any happier.

She now knew for a fact that Bessie did come here often.