#i know that amanda murders him but i like to imagine he was stuck there until he starved to death because angst (sorry adam)

[gomi--neko]

Adrenaline had been replaced with numbness. He waited, waited for anything. What was once a concoction of Zep's, Lawrence's, and his own blood had dried into a chalky rust-like substance. Hours, days, or weeks had passed; Adam wasn't sure. He found himself staring at the door like a dog waiting for its owner.

[megalony]

Stay with me

This is a Dominic Carisi imagine from Law and Order SVU which was requested by the lovely @misguidedswagger I hope this is what you were wanting. Feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn​

Masterlist

Summary: Whilst working on a new case, Carisi finds out that it’s his girlfriend who is the victim they are trying to save and he has to find her and make sure she’s okay. He can’t live without her.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay, we've got another kidnap on our hands." Olivia looked round  the team all crowded in the command room. All of their shifts had only started that of an hour or so ago and they were jumping right in the deep end again.

Their eyes were all tired and caffine wasn't waking them up yet but they all knew they had to be ready and alert for this shift. For the past week, there had been a serial rapist patrolling the streets early morning and late at night, picking random victims off the street. This guy wasn't murdering his victims but he was leaving them on death's door when he was finished with them and if he escalated, the next victim might not make it through.

"When did it happen?" Dom rubbed his hand over his eyes to liven himself up a bit.

The double shifts were taking a toll on him, especially when they just seemed to be getting somewhere and then he takes another victim like this, putting them back at the start.

"Two hours ago, it's the same MO. He grabbed her on a quiet side street where there were no security cameras and bundled her into a dark green jeep. Only one witness saw what happened from a distance but the girl has the same eye and hair colour and height as the other victims so he clearly has a type. We need to find her fast."

Amanda couldn't quite place what it was, but there was something about Olivia right now that looked off. It was like there was something she was worried about or holding back from the rest of them, something she knew that she wasn't willing to share with the rest of them. Whatever it was, it was clearly playing on her mind because there was a distracted look on her face and her eyes were drifting somewhere else.

"Let's go talk to the witness and canvas the streets, see if anyone else saw something or knows anything." Dom hooked his badge onto the top of his trousers and his belt under the hidden sight of his jacket.

They needed to talk to the witness and make sure there were no details that they had forgotten or suddenly remembered. And they needed to find any other witness and see where this guy was taking his victims, this was the first proper witness they had other than a camera catching the edge of his jeep or a shop owner hearing a scuffle.

"No- Carisi I want you to collect all security tapes nearby and find this jeep, Rollins can talk to the witness and Fin you and me will talk to the other victims."

Dom looked over at Amanda, his jaw dropped and his brows furrowed as he placed his hands on his hips. What had he done? Why was he suddenly stuck on tape duty which meant he would mostly be stuck here in the office rather than going out canvasing the streets. Why had Olivia just shot him down so quickly like that?

"Go." Olivia waved her hand at the team, watching them all disappear before Fin approached her with a look of caution in his eyes.

"What was that about?" Fin put his hands in his pockets, looking at his friend with a knowing look. He knew when something was wrong with her and he could tell there was something that was playing on her mind and it was upsetting or worrying her. This was never a good sign.

Olivia ticked her head to the side signalling for Fin to follow her into her office. Going over to her desk, Olivia sorted through a few files and pieces of paper on her desk before she found the one she was looking for. Her eyes quickly scanned around the command room once again, just to make sure that no one else was listening or paying attention before she handed the piece of paper to Fin.

"The victim's ID was found on the floor after she was taken, she probably managed to leave it behind before he got her in the jeep."

It wasn't uncommon for some victims to manage to leave their phone or ID or a credit card behind when they were in a struggle. They could manage to drop it on the floor or out their bag or just leave some kind of calling card behind to make it easier to identify and find them. It was always a smart move to make and they had found the ID which made Fin wonder why Olivia hadn't told the rest of the team that they knew the victims name and address.

"Okay... so why not tell us her name, why aren't we checking out her place right now?"

"Because it's Carisi's girlfriend who's been taken."

Fin rubbed his hand over is mouth and jaw as he tried to think of the best way to handle this situation. He knew what Olivia was thinking, if they told Carisi he wouldn't be able to work the case because he was emotionally involved and invested. And it would be horrible for him to be at work trying to find his girlfriend whilst wondering what was happening to her and if she was alive or not.

By not telling him it bought them some time to do this by the book and try to find her and keeping Carisi on desk duty meant he could still work the case but wasn't too involved or at risk of ruining the case to find (Y/n).

They couldn't tell him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leaning back in his chair, Dom tipped his head back and rubbed his hands over his face, feeling a headache forming behind his eyes. They were no closer to finding out where the latest victim was and tie was ticking on, they knew how this guy operated. Within twenty four hours he would rape and beat them to a pulp then dump them somewhere where they weren't likely to be found for a few hours.

This was his fourth victim, they thought that they would be more prepared for his next victim and able to catch him quickly but they were running out of time.

Not to mention that Dom didn't feel he was doing very much right now, he felt like he was doing the bare minimum amount of work on this case when he wanted to be scouting out where this villain was hiding and hurting all these women.

So far all Dom had done was go through hours worth of security tapes and get the number plate for the jeep. It didn't help that the jeep had been reported stolen around the time of the first attack so they were working backwards and trying to find the guy through other tapes and records.

He was done with this, sitting in this office going through tapes wasn't going to get them very far, just like Olivia had said not to focus too much on finding her identity because that wouldn't help either. This girl hadn't been taken because of her identity, she was taken because she fitted the rapist's victim profile so knowing who she was wouldn't help them find her.

Getting to his feet, Dom walked over to Olivia's office, he needed to go out into the world and do something about this case and try to make a difference and find this girl.

Peeking his head round the door, Dom felt his chest deflating at the sight of no one in the office. Olivia must be on some sort of lead, she must have found something or other or maybe she was just out for something to eat or even the toilet. Either way, Dom didn't want to hang around here doing nothing, he needed to head out.

If she wasn't here, maybe he could see if she had any leads he could follow up on.

Gingerly walking into the office, Dom looked over the various papers and files scattered over Olivia's desk like a large spreadsheet. He lightly brushed his fingers over them and pushed a few out the way to try and find something substantial.

His eyes glued to a map on the right side of the desk that looked familiar, it was a map of the city with different coloured paths drawn on, it showed each victims route from where they started to where they got snatched. Olivia was trying to find where they all linked to, an area of the city that was familiar to show where the perp liked to stick to.

The newest line on the map was the light blue one showing this victim's journey early this morning. Following the line, Dom looked where it seemed familiar to the other routes but his eyes narrowed and his blood ran cold when he noticed where the victim's journey started.

That was his apartment block.

No, no it couldn't be.

No, there were plenty of people in his apartment block, the chances of this victim being Dom's (Y/n) were one in thirty, that was a low chance. There were other women in their block, it wasn't just (Y/n).

But then again, it would explain why Olivia seemed to want Dom to stay in here and not be as involved in his case as he was in the others.

No, he had seen (Y/n) this morning, he had kissed her goodbye when she left half an hour earlier than he did for work.

But (Y/n) didn't drive to work, she walked since it was a twenty minute walk and within close distance to their home. And if it was her who had been taken, it would add up with the timeline of when the victim had been snatched this morning and then the team finding out and being on the case.

Dom felt rage and panic fluttering through his blood and nerves making him shake as he started to throw papers on the floor and scatter them around the desk looking for something concrete to cement his worries. He had to know if this was his girl or not, he needed to know if he had to go on a rampage in order to find his girl and make sure she was okay or if he could relax and know that this victim wasn't someone close to home for him.

He grabbed his phone out his back pocket and dialled (Y/n)'s number as he looked through the pages, Dom needed reassurance.

The phone dropped from his hand as his chest started to hurt. He was wheezing, unable to take in a proper breath, feeling his face burning up and his body on fire with the lack of oxygen when his eyes found a single piece of paper with a photo ID enlarged on it.

(Y/n)'s drivers license.

The loudest, longest scream Dom had ever done left his bright red lips in a flurry as he slammed his fist down on the desk causing everything in the room to vibrate.

No, no no!

He had to go and find her, he had to get her back safely before anything happened to her. Dom wouldn't be able to forgive himself if (Y/n) was the one victim that didn't make it since the perp was escalating. He wouldn't know what to do if they didn't get to her in time and she was hurt and beaten and suffering because they hadn't managed to catch this guy sooner.

In a haste, Dom grabbed his phone from the floor before he charged out the office. He wasn't wasting another second in here, all morning he could have been out there searching the streets for (Y/n) but instead he was here being utterly useless.

He wasn't going to carry on like this, he was going to save his girl and get her back.

He skidded round the left corner and made his way to the elevator, banging his fist on the button so many times he was sure it would be broken by now but he needed to move quickly. The moment the doors opened he was over the threshold and inside the lift, his eyes widening when he almost knocked over Amanda in his haste.

"Hey- you okay Carisi?" He barely managed to nod in response but Amanda could tell by looking at him that something was wrong. "I was looking for Liv, I found a lead and I think I know where he's hiding out."

"She's gone on a separate lead, come on I'll go with you. We can call her on the way."

Amanda narrowed her eyes at Dom before she nodded and stepped back inside the lift with him. He was jittery, his face was blotched red and every muscle in his body was tight and tense from adrenaline and anger. Something had rattled and upset him but she couldn't prod if he wasn't ready to talk about it.

Their case was more important right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"This better be the right place, I can't risk wasting anymore time on tapes and false leads, I gotta find him now."

Dom half muttered, half growled the words through gritted teeth before he ticked his head side to side like he was telling both himself and Amanda off. His movements were fast and reckless as he yanked the bullet-proof vest over his shoulders and zipped it up tight so that he would be protected. He had his badge on his hip as usual and his gun resting in his holster that would soon be in his hand.

If this was the right location then he could storm in and get (Y/n) out of there before this got any worse. But if it was a false alarm then they would be wasting precious time and (Y/n) could be hurt or even dead by the time they got to her.

"Carisi calm down, this is the place and even if he's moved her we'll find them." Amands rested her hand on Dom's shoulder for a second to try and calm him down before she pressed her phone to her ear and placed her hand back on her hip.

"What are you doing, we don't have time to call anyone we gotta get in there!"

"I'm calling Liv, if we go in here and it's him we're gonna need a bus and backup and they need to know where we are in case this goes up in smoke- Carisi just one minute, okay, I promise then we'll storm in there and find them... what's gotten to you about this case?"

Amanda narrowed her eyes at Dom and shook her head in confusion. This morning he had been miffed about being stuck on scanning through tapes but he hadn't been tense or panicked or over-worried about this case like he was now. Something had gotten to him and it was making him tense and on edge.

"No- Carisi wait- Liv he's going in-" Amanda reached her hand out but she wasn't quick enough to catch Dom before he bolted down the stairs leading to the lower basement apartment, gun in hand.

"His girlfriend's the victim, get in there with him now!"

Amanda needed no more explanations than that for her to shove her phone in  her back pocket and run down the stairs whilst fumbling to get her gun out from her holster. If it was Dom's girlfriend who was the victim then he was likely to shoot or attack the perp for what he had done. And if the victim was in a bad shape then Dom would lose all control, the perp could end up walking free by a case of police brutality if Dom lost his control down there.

Dom wasn't in control.

The moment he barged his way through the door and started roaming through the apartment, he was giving himself up to his darker side that was controlled by his anger and resentment.

When his eyes found the perp looming over his girl who was laid out on a dirty mattress on the floor, Dom saw red. He didn't give the perp chance to explain, to try and bargain or threaten him at all, The moment the man turned around with a knife in hand, Dom's gun fired and sent a bullet into the perp's shoulder.

When he landed on the floor on his back, Dom lunged like a predator attacking and devouring its prey.

His gun smashed into the perp's nose, his cheekbone, a knee flew into his stomach and his fingers latched into the man's hair and slammed his head down onto the concrete floor to give him a substantial concussion.

Amanda's shouting of his name brought him back to the reality that he was spending time attacking the perp when he should be checking on his girl and seeing what damage had been done to her and if she was okay. With that thought in mind, Dom heaved himself to his feet, using his foot to roll the perp a distance away before he headed over to (Y/n).

There she was, on a mattress pushed up into the corner of the cold damp room with no windows and only one small stream of light from the bulb in the ceiling.

(Y/n)'s hair was tangled and clumped around her face and spread out over the mattress. Her hands were bound together at the wrists wwith metal wire that had cut into her skin caqusing it to chafe and bleed. There were cuts and forming bruises on her cheekbone and lips, her white button-up top she had been wearing this morning was tattered and ripped apart, clinging to her shoulders by a few threads.

There were rips and cuts in her trousers thay were unbuttoned and unzipped but hadn't been pulled down very far. By the looks of her, she had been beaten to a pulp but the perp hadn't managed to get as far as he wanted with her like he did with the other victims.

"Baby, hey baby it's me... can you open your eyes for me? Baby don't sleep on me now."

Dom gently cupped (Y/n)'s face in his hands as he knelt down beside her, trying to get her to wake and focus on him. Her eyes were moving behind her eyelids and a small murmur left her lips but she wasn't fully coming round like Dom wanted her to. He needed her to wake up so he could check on her because she was either unconscious because of the beating she had taken or because he had drugged her with something.

"Rollins get that bus here now!"

He smoothed his thumb over her cut open cheekbone, hoping the light touch would stimulate her into waking up but all (Y/n) did was let out a low moan, she still couldn't open her eyes or even move her body.

"Stay with me baby, stay with me."

Those were the only words Dom could muster as he sat next to (Y/n) in the ambulance, watching her little movements and jerks which told him she was trying her best to stay awake and be with him. He had watched the paramedics cut the metal wire with sharp clippers and free her wrists which immediately started to bleed and show her hands had been constricted of blood flow with how discoloured they were.

An oxygen mask was placed over her lips and nose which he was told would help if she had been drugged and bandages were on her wrists to keep them clean and stem the bleeding until a nurse or doctor could patch her up at the hospital.

Dom followed her all the way inside and through the corridors, holding her very weak hand until he was forced to wait outside the room, finding Amanda and Olivia hustling over to him.

They knew better than to dare ask him any questions or tell him off for how he acted. They couldn't preach to him right now and the chief wouldn't dare get involved and take his statement right now. As of this moment Dom was off the job and he was here as (Y/n)'s partner. He wouldn't want to answer any questions or talk to anyone until he knew (Y/n) was alright.

The two women stayed with him, mostly staying silent except for the odd phone call they had to take. They watched their friend stare through the window, keeping an eye on (Y/n) and how she was doing.

He watched them patch up her wrists and take blood samples and cut the rest of her shredded clothing so they could check for anymore injuries.

"Carisi, why don't you go home and get a shower, get changed? Try and clear your head before you come back and wait to see her." Olivia rubbed her hand up and down Dom's back, knowing that right now he was too focused on (Y/n) to argue the fact that he hadn't been informed from the start that his girlfriend was the victim.

"No, I- I can't leave her."

"They won't let you see her for a couple of hours yet, they need to do tests and flush her system and get her stable. Come on, I'll give you a lift then bring you straight back here."

Amanda leaned her head to the side with a small, enticing smile on her lips which seemed to calm Dom down and bring him to the reality that he was going to be waiting in limbo for a while yet. The least he could do was go home and clean up so he looked a bit better for when (Y/n) would see him.

"Okay, let's go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All Dom could feel and concentrate on was the feeling of the small square box resting on his coat pocket.

He wanted to be with (Y/n), he wanted to sit next to her and wait for her to wake up and tell her that he couldn't go through this again. He couldn't stomach or live through the pain of wondering if he was going to find her dead or alive, if she was going to be battered and bruised. He didn't want to risk ever being too late to help or save her again like he had today.

Dom knew in his heart that the pain he had gone through proved that he loved (Y/n) more than he ever loved anyone else and he wasn't going to lose or let her go.

His eyes glanced over to Amanda walking beside him before his sight found Olivia sat down in the waiting area she said she would be in. But when the pair got closer to her, they could see the worry in her eyes and whenever Olivia started to rub and scratch her hands like that it meant she was scared.

"What happened?"

"They, um... they said she stopped breathing and her vitals were dropping so they took her for immediate surgery. They think she had an internal haemorrhage and they need to pump her stomach to get rid of the drugs she was given."

Sonny couldn't breathe.

Why did he go? Why didn't he trust his instincts that something would happen if he left? He should have stayed because he was again at risk of losing (Y/n) and this time there was nothing he could do to save her. He had to wait for someone else to help her this time and Dom hated that, he hated how helpless and useless he felt.

She had to pull through, she had to for Dom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Dom..."

That one word caused a shockwave to burst through Dom's system and made him shoot up from where he had previously been slumped over leaning on the hospital bed. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the brightness of the room since he had suddenly had a power nap against his own will. But when he focused around him, he couldn't help but smile in utter relief when his eyes locked with (Y/n)'s.

She looked as drowsy as he had ever seen her, no focus in her beautiful eyes that were dilated and wide. It took a while for her eyes to finally focus and stop on Dom but when they did they found a smile mixed with tears. And there was a subtle shaking in her system but it was only to be expected after what she had been through.

"I'm here... oh baby you're finally awake, thank God." Dom tightened his hand around (Y/n)'s which he hadn't let go of since he'd been allowed in the room with her about two hours ago.

"I... you, you found me..." (Y/n)'s word were slightly slurred but it was easy for Dom to make out what she was saying.

Her head was splitting like someone was cracking it open like a coconut and her memories were fuzzy and al out of place. But the one thing she could really remember and focus on was Dom's voice in her head, telling her to open her eyes and stay with him. She could still feel his arms around her, holding her, cradling her, placing her on the gurney, holding her hand all the time until she fell unconscious.

"I did baby... I should have found you sooner, I'm so sorry. I wish I could have stopped it right when he got you but I couldn't-" Dom cut himself off as he brushed the back of his hand under his eyes to move the tears he was shedding. All the 'what ifs' were rolling through his head until all he could think about was how he had been very late in saving her.

"You saved me, I couldn't be more proud of my detective." (Y/n) didn't know why it took so much effort for her to squeeze Dom's hand even the slightest bit but when she did she saw the look of adoration in his eyes.

"Baby, I... I... today I thought I might lose you, that pain proved just how much you mean to me," Reaching into his pocket, Dom fumbled around with the little box he had been focusing on for the last few hours. "I don't want to lose you, ever. Will you marry me?"

Dom breathed through the words that made his stomach flip and his chest compress until he was barely breathing at all. It was something he had been thinking about for weeks and he had bought a ring about a month ago but he never found the right time to pop the question. But today showed just how much (Y/n) meant to Dom and if he had to be without her he would be forever lost and never himself again. It showed him that he had to marry her, she was the one for him because the way he loved her was so true that it hurt.

Dom was so lost in his thoughts he barely noticed (Y/n) nodding and whispering the word yes repeatedly at him.

He could see through the tears in (Y/n)'s eyes that she was beyond elated even though she was still drowsy and had been through a very traumatic event today.

(Y/n) still didn't have control over her hands from how tightly her wrists had been bound but Dom was very careful and gentle in lifting up her left wrist so he could gently slip the ring onto her finger.

He wasn't willing to lose her, ever.

[impala-dreamer]

All Our Sins

SPN FanFic

~It has been a long time since your last confession, but you were pretty sure it wasn't supposed to go like this...~

Priest!Dean x Reader, Sam

1,700 Words

Warnings; NSFW. EXTREME BLASPHEMY. Priest!Kink. Dirty Talk. Spanking. Hardcore fuckin'. In a confessional booth.

A/N: For my darling @assbuttaf​, who asked for this like a year ago... Hope you all enjoy...

 My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ Find My Original Works on Amazon

The candlelight died away instantly as you closed the tiny door of the confessional booth. It had been years since you'd even stepped foot in a church, let alone attempted confession, but there you were, about to sink to your knees.

Afraid to look through the screen, you bowed your head and knelt down, ready to try this whole praying thing.

"In nomine Patris et Filii, Spiritus Sancti. Amen." The priest spoke slowly, his voice like caramel through the grate; deep and rich.

Your lip shook. "Bless me, Father for I have sinned."

"Go on…"

It was hard to speak; your voice shaking, chin steadied by clasped hands. "It's been...well, hell, I can't remember how long since I did this last.

"That's fine, my dear, go on. What do you need to confess?"

"I guess… a lot," you admitted with a sarcastic laugh. "I mean, I curse constantly. I've been in fights, I've killed. Not- humans, but…things."

The priest nodded, his crisp profile distorted by the mesh. "That's...not great."  A slick chuckle made your heart skip.

"I've saved people too, Father," you went on, explaining away the sin of murder. "Lots of people."

"I'm sure you have."

There was a pause, a long moment of silence inside the booth. You could hear his breathing, slow and steady; he was waiting for you to speak, to tell him everything. You lifted your eyes to the screen and caught a glimpse of tanned skin and plump, pink lips. Quickly, you dragged your eyes away. He was a priest, not something to be ogled.

“Is that all?” he asked, breaking the silence and halting the sinful throbbing betwixt your thighs.

Startled, you sucked in a short breath. “What?”

“Is that all you wish to confess?” He spoke slowly, deliberately drawing out each letter; the F pulling his bottom lip tight between his teeth. You couldn’t help but watch through the grate; tiny crosses giving you a stunted view of his tongue as it pressed against perfect teeth. “If we are to be forgiven, we must confess all of our sins…”

“N-no,” you stammered, feeling yourself weaken with each word he spoke. “There’s...more.”

“So… go on.”

You took a breath and closed your eyes, gathering the strength you needed to continue. “Well, Father, I...I’ve had impure thoughts.” The words were stuck on your tongue, your mouth drying as your pussy dripped, arousal taking over. “About my friend,” you went on. “My...partner- work, partner. My friend. He’s...so, so beautiful.” The padded bench beneath your knees was doing little to keep you up; the thought of him making your blood sing. “I’ve been very... lustful, Father.”

The priest sat forward, leaning closer to the screen. “How so?”

“I touch myself thinking about him. I can’t help it. I dream about his hands on me; about his big cock inside of me.” The confession sprang free and you went with it, telling your deepest secret to the shadow in the booth next to you. “I cum all the time thinking about sucking his cock; him fucking my face so hard that I can’t think straight. I- I need him.”  

“Is that so?” His voice was darker, his breath heavier. “Go on.”

“Sometimes during the day, I sneak away to go to the bathroom and fuck my slutty pussy while I think about him.” It was so easy now that the seal had been broken, and your lips refused to yield. “I stole his undershirt a while ago and I keep it under my pillow back home and stick my face in it while I ride my dildo, smelling him while I squirt all over the place. God, he’s so sexy, I need him so fucking bad. Need him to wreck my drippy cunt and fill me up. Need his cock so bad. So bad.”

He swallowed hard. “You have been sinful, girl.” His tone was rough, condemning. “I don’t know that this kind of behavior can be forgiven. Are you penitent?”

You could feel hot wet you were; the thin panties beneath your pencil shirt were soaked. “What?”

“Do you regret your actions?”

A smile pulled at your mouth. “No, Father. I do not.”

The priest sucked his teeth in disappointment. “You will be punished for this,” he said firmly.

Your heart was racing. “Yes, Father, I know.”

Without another word, he reached over and slammed the partition shut, blocking him from your view. The room grew dark and you held your breath, listening as he moved in the compartment next to you. His door opened and slammed shut.

You hissed as bright light flooded your sight and you squinted to see a tall, dark silhouette framed by holy light.

The priest stepped into your side of the booth and shut the door behind him.  

You turned, confused. “Father?”

The priest opened his belt in the dark. “It’s time for your penance, girl.”

A big hand reached out and took hold of your hair, pulling you roughly to your feet. You gasped and bit your tongue, trying not to scream in the House of the Lord. He lifted you up and pressed himself against you, pushing you back into the hard wooden wall. He dropped his lips towards yours but did not leave a kiss, forcing you to imagine what he would taste like, what his mouth would feel like. His lips hovered over your mouth and across your jaw, dropping down to linger by your ear, breathing you in.

“You’re just full of sin, aren’t you?” The hand in your hair tightened and he licked at your throat.

“Yes, Father,” you grit, riding another wave of arousal. It dripped from your cunt; your musk filling the small space.  

“We’ll have to fuck it out of you,” he whispered, rocking his hips against you.

“W-what?” Your heart stopped as he spun you around; the fingers in your hair falling to grab your upper arm and shove. You tipped over, hands catching on the seat at the back of the booth; wood slamming hard against your palms. “Fuck!”

Hot hands ripped your skirt up and tore your panties down, letting them fall, pointless around your calves. He slid a thick finger between your thighs, reaching down to feel your leaking pussy.

“All this...sin,” he growled, shoving his finger deep inside of you. “So shameful.”

“Shameful, yes,” you whimpered, rocking back onto his hand, trying to get him to move.

He pulled his hand away and you cried pathetically, arching your back to press your ass against him. You were stopped by his hand as it cracked against your plump cheek.

“Needy,” he condemned, slapping again. “Filthy…” Another slap, fingers splayed. “Lustful…”

Your body was throbbing, inside and out, from the deepest reaches to the surface of your skin. “Please.”

The final slap was delivered and you clenched your teeth as the hand moved away. You could hear the rustle of fabric as he dropped his pants, pulling the clerics away to deliver your true punishment.  

“Please, Father,” you begged, aching to be filled.

His hands returned, gripping your hips tightly as he pulled you back; the tip of his cock nudging against your heat.

“Please!”

“Slut.” He drove his cock hard into you, burning your flesh with his heat and the quick stretch of his hefty size.

“Fuck!”

His thrusts drove you wild, setting the pace for your heart as he tried to fuck the sin from your bones. You could barely stand, legs shaking as he slammed into you again and again. He was quiet, moaning through a clenched jaw as he worked; hands bruising your flesh, thighs leaving red marks where they struck your legs.

As his breathing quickened, his rhythm changed, picking up tempo as he neared the end. He reached forward with one hand and pressed his fingers to your clit, rubbing hard, forcing you to cum on his throbbing cock, helping him to let go. You milked him dry, cunt pulsing around him, and he stilled against your ass, breathing deeply, satisfied, tired.

He backed away and you could feel his cum drip from your pussy, leaking hot and steady down your inner thigh. He ripped at your panties, tearing the delicate sides apart, and wiped at your used cunt, cleaning up his mess. You turned then and sat, back aching, muscles quaking. He tossed the panties into your lap and laughed.

“Go forth, my child,” he said, voice dark and cracked, “and sin no more.”

He left you there in the dark, slamming the door closed behind him as he stepped out into the candlelight, black suit and shining shoes all you could see of him.

It took a moment for you to catch your breath, but when you did, you shoved the ruined panties into your purse and followed him, leaving the humid booth behind.

Dean was standing outside the door, frozen like a deer in headlights. You peeked around him to see Sam not far away, his face masked with annoyance and disbelief.

“Did you two actually just fuck in there?” he asked, flashlight beam hitting the confessional booth behind you.

Dean smirked and gave him a little shrug. “May-maybe?”

You slapped his arm. “Dude.”

Sam’s eyes rolled mightily. “For fuck’s sake, guys. We’re on a case. This place is haunted and you’re...you’re… what the hell are you even doing?”

Dean was at a loss, so you stepped in. “Role playing?” you offered, but it did little more than trigger Sam’s gag reflex.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Hey!” Dean snapped, wagging a finger at him. “Watch your mouth, son. We’re in God’s House. Show some respect.”

Sam gasped, offended. “Me? You just-”

“Eh!” Dean held up a hand, halting Sam’s argument. “We’re on a case, Sam. For fuck’s sake, let’s stop this fooling around and get to work.”

With a wink your way, Father Dean headed off into the sacristy, on the hunt for a murderous spirit’s tether.

“You two are going to hell,” Sam muttered as he sighed and moved to follow.

You smiled and watched Dean’s pretty ass as he disappeared into the next room. “Yeah,” you agreed. “But worth it.”

2020 Forever Tags:

@67-chevy-baby @akhuna01 @amanda-teaches @autumnmoon @because-imma-lady-assface @blushingjared @broiderie @burningcoffeetimetravel @classic-rock-angel @coopercharlie16 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansgirl215 @deans-baby-momma @deangirl7695 @deanwinchesterswitch @desiree---1986  @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @edge-oftonight @emoryhemsworth @eternal-elir @fandom-princess-forevermore @fangirlxwritesx67 @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @herbologystudent252 @heycasbutt @hornyandsmol @ilovefanfic86 @i-love-superhero @ilsawasanacrobat @imjustadrummer @ivvitm1109 @joseyrw @justagirlinafandomworld @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @kittenofdoomage​ @laxe-from-outer-space @leatherandfrackles @lessons-of-red @letsby @letsdisneythings @lonewolf471 @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @melbelle45 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @mummybear  @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @screechingartisancashbailiff @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @starboycas @stephaniecanfield96us @stoneyggirl @squirrelnotsam @thebookisbtr @the-chocolate-moose @thehardcoveraddict @thevelvetseries @veevm @winchestersister55 @wendibird @winecatsandpizza @winterpoohbear

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Maniac: Chapter 1 || Peter Parker x Detective!Reader

Summary: Detective Y/L/N is a notorious menace among the criminals but a hero to New York City. When a serial killer surfaces in New York and leaves a trail of dead bodies, it is up to Y/N and Spider-man to partner up and catch the killer before more lives are at risk. 

Note: In this series, Peter and the reader are in their early twenties, like 23 or 24, something like that. Also, this reading will serve as an introduction to the series, so it’s a bit long (sorry!). Let me know what y’all think, and I hope you enjoy :) 💕 

Warning(s): topics of death and murder, violence, blood, angst, cursing. MATURE CONTENT, 18+ 

Word Count: 7.6k

The light illuminated from your desk lamp was the only source that provided warmth as you sat in the empty precinct; the enormous pile of paperwork sitting on top of your desk heavily criticized you as you sat back and drank your cold coffee. You grabbed your hair in frustration as the task of completing the paperwork was by far the worst part of being a detective, but you knew you had the capability of managing it. If it meant that the people you arrested were going to live a life in prison, then you made the paperwork your top priority to complete, even if it meant you had to spend a night at the precinct. Of course, while you had no right to complain about the workload a detective was expected to do, you do have the right to critique your fellow officers, as their lack of effort became your burden. 

However, a smile formed on your lips as you recalled your first day of work, which was two years ago, but it felt as if it was a day ago. The work ethic of your comrades was unbelievably horrible; no wonder the crime rate in your district was so high, the detectives lacked the efficiency to fulfill their duties. Yet, everything changed once you arrived. You brought something that no one else could bring: hope. With your dedication, rigorous work ethic, and courage, you turned the place around, and people praised you for it. You were a hero in your district, and people began to emulate you. If there was a case that no one dared to do, you were the first detective to take it. If danger was around the corner, you ran towards it. Your honorable work was noticed not only in your district, but throughout New York as well. However, as you gained the attention of the public and began to be on front headlines, you also caught the attention of criminals, who all wanted to end your crusade against crime. Yet, that didn’t frighten you one bit. 

You sipped your black coffee once more before picking up the first folder and instantly began to work. Once these papers are done, I can head home and rest until my next shift, you thought to yourself as you wrote down crucial information on various papers. 

As hours passed by, you were nearly complete with your paperwork before you heard the sounds of heavy footsteps approach you; you picked up your head, giving a smile to your partner, Michael as he stumbled towards you. Michael Romero was your partner since the moment you became a detective, and while his charm and flirtatious attitude was a bit obnoxious, he had a good heart. 

“Romero, you’re up earlier than usual,” you stated in shock, smirking as he let out a big yawn, scratching his neck. His hair was disheveled and his clothes were wrinkled, but he returned the grin, pulling a chair beside your desk and sitting down. You continued to work, your eyes focusing on the paperwork as you felt his eyes gaze on you. It was a common thing he did; yet, no matter how many times you told him to stop, he didn’t, so you learned to live with it. 

“I woke up just for you, darling,” he jokingly said back, propping his left elbow on the desk and picking up a pen and a folder from the pile. You merely shook your head in disapproval, ignoring his flirtatious tone as you continued to write on the paper. “When will you stop calling me darling?” you questioned, taking your eyes off your paper and looking at him straight in the eyes. The pen rested on his bottom lip as his eyes hovered over the piece of paper, and you softly kicked him on the leg, knowing he was intentionally ignoring you. He chuckled, settling down the folder and pen on the desk before staring at you. 

A grin settled among his face, his eyes shining due to the lamp desk, “when you agree to go on a date with me.” You let out a light laugh as Michael continued stretching out his joke, but it began to dawn on you that he wasn’t joking around once you saw his lips form a firm line and his leg began to shake from anticipation as he awaited your response. You let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, not prepared to start this conversation again with him. 

“Mike...” you started off, calling him by his nickname, as an attempt to tell him your tone was serious. You didn’t know how to let him down softly, you had a strict rule: to not date anyone from work; while he was charming and sweet, you didn’t want your love life to impede how you did your job. 

Michael shook his head, cutting you off before you had the chance to let him down once again, “C’mon, Y/N, you can’t deny the chemistry we have; I know you have a rule about not dating your coworkers, but you and I are different,” he reached down to grab your hand, and he continued to speak as you didn’t interrupt him. “Let me take you on one date, and I swear on my life, that if you don’t fall in love with me after the date, then I’ll never bother you again.” The way his eyes pleaded reminded you of when a child begs their mother to let them eat a cookie before dessert, and while it was tempting to say no, you also questioned if saying yes was the right choice. As part of you screamed ‘no’, the other side imagined you being romantically involved with Michael; he was endearing, he made you laugh, he made attempts to cheer you up when you faced a setback, and your other coworkers joked about you and Michael acting like an old married couple. 

Maybe agreeing to one date wouldn’t hurt, you thought to yourself. As you opened your mouth to speak, you were interrupted by the sound of your ringtone echoing in your jacket. You pulled your hand away, which was being gently held by Michael, as you solemnly smiled at him and excused yourself, fishing out your phone before picking up. 

“Detective Y/L/N speaking,” you spoke, further distancing yourself from Michael as you leaned back on your chair. 

“Y/N?” the frail voice said, to which you instantly recognized. The irregular breathing of the voice alerted you, and your ears picked up on the distress that was embedded in her tone. You stood up straighter, indicating to Michael that this call was important. 

“Glimmer, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” you worriedly asked her, standing up as you didn’t hesitate to find her if you needed to. You gave Glimmer, the sex worker, your phone a year ago when you were called to investigate the murder of another girl, Amanda Carson, who was brutally murdered in the back of an abandoned building. 

You were absolutely destroyed once you found out about her murder. You arrested Amanda for public intoxication while patrolling your designated neighborhood, but once she unveiled her tragic story to you while intoxicated, you began to realize that she wasn’t a threat to society; rather, she was a survivor who just struggled to find herself. Since then, you always took care of her whenever you spotted her walking down the street, either by giving her warm food or drinks when it was cold or offering to let her crash at your place. Hot chocolate was her favorite. Glimmer was Amanda’s sister, and they were both kicked out of their house at the age of sixteen; since then, they’ve wandered the streets of New York looking to gain money in exchange for sex. They both were too stubborn, declining to stay at your place while you worked, and no matter how many times you insisted it was alright, they brushed you off, going back to their usual schedule: standing in their infamous corner late at night. 

You were met with silence for a moment before Glimmer spoke again, “I-I’m fine, I’m just stuck in a sticky situation. Do you think you can come?” She hesitantly asked, to which you easily agreed, grabbing a piece of paper and jotting down the address Glimmer gave. Michael stood up as well, running to the locker room to grab his jacket once you signaled to him you were both needed. “I’ll be there soon, Glimmer,” you confirmed to her, grabbing your jacket and heading out the door with Michael behind you. 

“Please come soon,” Glimmer said before hanging up.              

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You immediately got out of the vehicle, walking towards the cop car parked towards the end of the street; the red and blue lights flickered, indicating to the other neighbors that something horribly occurred near their homes. You flashed the two police officers your badge before speedily walking towards Glimmer, who sat on the curb of the street, her hands cuffed behind her back. Her face was tainted with red, blue, and purple marks, there was a long gash on her forehead, and she had a few cuts and bruises on her knees. You kneeled down, softly placing your hand on Glimmers’ shoulder; she flinched at your touch, but once she noticed it was you who was consoling her, she relaxed. You briefly stood up, taking off your jacket and covering Glimmer’s body as her short dress failed to provide her warmth during the cold night.  

“What happened?” You softly asked, ignoring the police officers’ glares from the corner of your eye. She sniffled the snot that was running down her nose, and there were tears in her eyes; they fell down her cheeks, but you quickly wiped them away. 

“I was walking down the street before a man jumped me and started to attack me; the neighbors called, and next thing I know I’m being handcuffed by those assholes,” she stated, turning her head to glare at the officers who mishandled the situation. 

Anger immediately settled within you, and you stood up, walking towards the two police officers and Michael. From the looks of Michael’s face, he was infuriated was well. 

“What the hell were you thinking?!” you loudly exasperated, disregarding the confusion written on their faces as you interrupted the conversation between the officers and Michael. “A woman gets attacked by a man and you decide to handcuff her?! Who the fuck is your superior officer? I’ll gladly let them know how you poorly mishandled the situation,” you spat, feeling your blood boil. This was the exact reason why victims do not confide in the police department; they completely dehumanize people and misuse their power that only leads to further conflict. 

One of the police officers, a man whose badge read ‘MaCay’, turned away from Michael and stared you down, utterly raged that you dared critiqued how he “resolved” the situation. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but we went with what was given to us. Look at how she’s dressed, you can clearly tell she’s a prostitute. So, I arrested her.” The other officer, a male as well, nodded his head, agreeing with what his partner said. You looked at Michael, completely shocked with what he said; MaCay deliberately profiled Glimmer due to her appearance, never taking into consideration the circumstances; it took all of your might to not punch him square in the face. 

Your stance remained stoic; instead, you stepped closer to MaCay, sending a deathly glare that had the potential to cut the thick tension. You felt your eyes twitch in frustration; holy shit, who the hell gave this man the chance to become a police officer?!

“So,” Michael stated, coming in between MaCay and you in order to ease the tension, “you mean to tell Detective Y/L/N and I that you arrested a woman because she ‘looks’ like a hooker instead of the man who attacked her? Where the hell is the perpetrator?” Michael harshly asked as his eyes flashed in rage. Both of the officers remained silent until one of them spoke, “he’s in the back of our car as we speak.”

While these officers were complete idiots, at least they didn’t let the man escape. You felt your anger simmer down, but there was still a strong resentment towards the men standing in front of you. 

“Thank Thor that you have him because if you didn’t, this would’ve completely ended your careers,” you spat out, rubbing your forehead as you were unable to comprehend how the lack intelligence. “So, officers,” you said in a condescending voice, ”I suggest you take off those handcuffs before you have to worry about a lawsuit,” you declared, crossing your arms across your chest. The two officers didn’t say a word, looking at one another, not knowing what to do or say. 

After a short while, the officer, Salgado, took out the keys to the handcuffs, walking towards Glimmer; he knelt down and took off the handcuffs. Glimmer let out a breath of relief, rubbing her swollen, red wrists. You didn’t bother to thank the officers; instead, you walked towards Glimmer, a modest smile on your face as you watched her face contort to reassurance. You heard Michael continue to yell at the officers, but you drowned them out, focusing on the woman in front of you.

“I’m so sorry you went through this Glimmer, I’ll make sure these officers get some sort of punishment for the way they treated you,” you stated, reaching your hand out to rub her shoulders. Glimmer sorrowfully smiled in appreciation, thanking you for your admirable actions. You could tell Glimmer felt uneasy, but she hid her fear, straightening her back in attempts to look composed after what just occurred. 

“How about I drive you back to my place? I’ll feel a hell of a lot better if you stayed at my apartment,” you offered, giving Glimmer the opportunity to have shelter instead of living in her small car. You watched Glimmer’s face contort in hesitation; she was like a feral cat, she learned to survive in the streets, and she didn’t need any help from anyone else. 

“I’ll pass on that offer, detective, but thank you,” Glimmer stated, declining your offer. You sighed, knowing her response before she even told you. You tried so many times to take care of her, but she always rejected your offer. She was used to this life, and it was a difficult process to try and make her see that she could escape it. You watched as Glimmer bit her lip, as if she was having a battle within herself if she should reveal what was on her mind. You furrowed your eyebrows, noticing her shift in behavior, “something wrong, Glimmer?” 

Glimmer’s eyes flickered from you to the two police officers. Her facial expression flashed between worry to hesitation, but they were quickly disregarded as Glimmer shined a toothy grin, “No, detective, I’m fine.” However, you didn’t buy it. You grabbed her by the shoulder, directing her away from the police officers to ensure she could speak without fearing the others would hear the conversation. 

“You can tell me, Glimmer.” You stated, pleading for her to open up. Yet, Glimmer shook her head.

“I said I’m fine,” she bit back, deciding to not confide in you. You bit the inside of your cheek, deciding to drop your interrogation. You didn’t want to scare her off, so you bit back your tongue and nodded, taking Glimmer’s words. 

“Alright...I’ll be going then,” you softly smiled at her, attempting to hide your melancholic expression, “take care of yourself, Glimmer,” you whispered, rubbing her shoulder. She nodded her head, listening to your words before taking off your jacket that was loosely hanging on her shoulders; however, you shook your head, declining her attempt to give it back. 

“Keep it,” you responded before walking away, indicating to Michael that your task was over. You breezed passed the officers, barely acknowledging their presence as you walked towards the car. You sat in the passenger seat, watching the police officers get in their car and drive away as Michael turned on the car; Glimmer stood on the sidewalk, her eyes staring straight into yours as she tightly held onto your jacket, clutching it for dear life. She sadly smiled as she watched your car drive down the street, disappearing into the night. 

That night, you didn’t get much sleep as your mind wondered what Glimmer was going to say. 

What made her change her mind?

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The sound of your ringtone disrupted your morning thoughts, and you reached towards your nightstand to pick up your phone, Michael’s name appearing as the caller ID; confused as to why he was calling you so early in the morning, you hesitantly answered. 

“Michael? Why are you calling me so early?” you questioned, sitting up and rubbing your face in attempts to get rid of the groggy feeling. 

“Y/N...,” Michael softly spoke, the demeanor in his voice causing your heart to beat faster. Horrible scenarios ran through your mind, yet you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. The world seemed to remain still as Michael’s words finally registered in your mind. Your body stiffened and your mouth went dry. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, unable to process the information given to you.  

“I’ll be there soon,” you stated in a monotone voice, pulling the phone away from your ear as you ended the call, not wanting to hear anything else come out of his mouth. From that moment, everything went blurry. You don’t remember getting dressed, getting into your car, and driving to the crime scene. You faintly remembered exiting the car and Michael approaching you; his mouth opened yet no words came out. All you remember was your heavy breathing as you walked towards the yellow tape, pulling it over your head as you approached the white cloth that covered the body from the public.

“Detective Y/L/N,” a voice said, completely shaking you back into reality. You looked to the right, noticing how your commanding officer worriedly eyed you. Your glossy eyes indicated to her that you were still unable to comprehend the horrific events, but she knew your expertise was needed. You wiped your eyes, rubbing your face as you tried to hide your emotions, but to no avail, your commanding officer read you like a book. She walked towards you until she stood next to you, placing a warm yet firm grip on your shoulder. “You can take a day off, if you’d like to,” she declared, knowing this case, in particular, was going to be a sensitive topic to handle. 

Though, you shook your head, “no, I need to be here.” Your commanding officer gave you one deep look, her eyebrows furrowing as she noticed your stoic posture. However, she knew deep down that you were breaking. She sighed, knowing your determination was too strong to deter you away from crime. Nevertheless, what you were about to see was going to be difficult to stomach. “What you’re about to see... you need to be prepared,” she slowly declared. You nodded your head, listening to her words. “Take all the time you need,” she said before walking away from you, leaving yourself alone for a moment before you regained your posture. You took a deep breath before walking towards the scene, putting on gloves as you intended on inspecting every inch of the crime scene. 

A forensic woman crouched near the body, scattering crime scene markings and jotting down notes on the paper attached to the clipboard; she turned to face you, noticing how you hovered over the body yet did nothing to step closer. Your hands shook by your side, but you clenched your fists, indicating to the woman with your head movements to unveil the body. She obeyed your order, grabbing both ends of the cloth and revealing the corpse. You felt your breath hitch in your throat and tears threatened to spill, but you refrained them from breaking down. 

You cleared your throat as you observed Glimmer’s corpse lay in front of you, her soulless eyes staring into yours. You crouched down to further inspect the trauma her body endured shortly after her death. You felt sick to your stomach as you continued to stare at the body; it felt wrong, Glimmer was supposed to be a survivor, not a victim. 

“Tell me what you know,” you spoke out loud, looking away from Glimmer’s body to the woman. The woman nodded her head, grabbing the cloth to further expose the injuries Glimmer had.

“Time of death was around four in the morning, given by how fresh the blood is. Same memo as the death of Amanda Carson: multiple stab wounds in the legs, thighs, arms, and chest,” the woman declared, pointing to the various wounds littered across her body. You nodded your head, attempting to ignore the gut-wrenching pain you felt course throughout your body. You were just with her two hours ago. How could you have let this happened? “The victim attempted to block the stab wounds, which is why her arms are positioned in a defensive matter. She put one hell of a fight,” the lady stated, attempting to lighten the mood and suggest that even though the victim died, she fought as best as she could. 

The woman stopped speaking, directing her focus on you instead of the body that lay in front of her. Judging by the way she hesitated, you knew there was something else that was crucial to Glimmer’s death. 

“While the victim-,” you cut her off, starting to feel your blood boil as she kept directing Glimmer as just the victim. “Her name was Glimmer,” you harshly snapped, your eyes sending deathly glares. The woman closed her mouth, nodding her head as she understood her mistake. “Yes-my mistake-Glimmer suffered exact injuries as Amanda Carson, but I don’t think the stab wounds killed her.” You furrowed your eyebrows, attentively listening to the examiner’s words; “my interpretation is the blow to the side of her head was what ultimately killed her,” the woman remarked, slightly moving Glimmer’s head to the side to expose the deep head injury that nestled itself behind her ear. The gash seemed to have been made by a weapon, possibly a hammer or a crowbar, but you would have to wait until forensic came back with the results.   

The sight of Glimmer’s body became too unbearable to observe, so you stood up, ignoring the dizziness. “Check her fingerprints and mouth to see if she was able to get any of the perpetrator’s DNA,” you ordered, to which the woman agreed, requesting one of her men to bring her cotton swabs. You stepped back, observing the workers inspect every inch of the crime scene, leaving you to your thoughts. 

You should’ve pushed harder, you said to yourself. Maybe if she came home with you that night, she still would’ve been alive. The immense guilt began to eat you up, and you allowed it to consume you. It was your fault that she died, and there was no one who could change your mind. You promised Amanda before she died that you would protect her little sister, and you failed. 

“Detective Y/L/N,” the woman yelled, grabbing your attention, causing you to walk towards her. She was kneeling beside Glimmer’s body but stood up as you came closer; her face became as pale as a ghost as she held onto a piece of paper in her palm. You felt your heart beat faster as you waited for the woman to speak up.  

“What is it?” you asked, feeling your body shake in anticipation. 

She looked at you with worry, panic written across her face. She didn’t say a word, handing you the bloody paper, allowing you to read it for yourself. The blood hadn’t completely dried off, causing you to carefully rub off the excess liquid onto your glove; the cursive word brought shivers down your spine as you fully became aware of the killer’s intentions.  

This killing won’t be my last. I intend on making them vast as you keep living in the past. I suggest you move on, Detective Y/L/N. 

You felt your heart boil in vexation; the killer’s note was planted on Glimmer’s body, mean for you to find. Thoughts began to swirl in your mind, thinking of possible scenarios as to why this note was directed to you specifically; you made many enemies once you became a detective, so the number of suspects was far too large to narrow down. You tightly grasped the note, thanking the woman before walking to your boss, informing her of what you discovered. 

“Captain,” you called out, getting her attention, causing her to turn around to face you. She quickly excused herself from the other officers at the scene, walking towards you as she noticed your shaken state. “What’s wrong?” she asked, stopping in front of you. Knowing you would fumble your words, you showed her the note left for you, watching her eyes widen as her eyes trailed over the words. 

“The person who killed Glimmer also killed Amanda. I know two is just a coincidence, but this note proves that we have a potential serial killer on the radar. We have to-,” you were cut off as your boss raised her hand, signaling you to stop talking. She heavily sighed, grabbing a pair of gloves, putting them on, and taking the note away from your possession. You irritatedly waited as she called one of the officers, who put the note in an evidence bag before walking away. She grabbed your upper arm, pulling you away from the other officers, but you shrugged off her grip, maintaining your stance. Her lips formed a tight line as she, as well, began to become frustrated. 

“Listen, Detective Y/L/N, you can’t just freely use ‘serial killer’ in a sentence. You have to be careful with your word choice because if the public ever hears what you said, our asses will be on the line,” you narrowed your eyes as you listened to your commanding officer who told you to be quiet. Your fists were clenched as you were unable to believe what she was telling you. 

“With all due respect, Captain Parish, Glimmer’s death fits the same memo as Amanda’s murder; I can’t just ignore it, we have to publicly notify the people,” you responded back, further substantiating the argument that a public statement needed to be made. 

“Except for the fact that Glimmer died due to a head trauma; Amanda died of blood loss. Detective, I’m telling you, as your superior officer, to back down and let another detective take the case. You just notified me that you’re too close to the case,” she barked back, her voice louder than before. Silence filled the atmosphere as officers stopped moving, becoming aware of the small bicker between the Captain and her fellow officer. Parish cleared her throat, rubbing her eyes; she, too, didn’t get much sleep the other night. 

“We don’t have enough evidence to make a statement; instead of protecting the citizens, we’ll cause more people to become afraid,” Captain Parish told you, her voice barely above a whisper. While you wanted nothing more than to find the killer, you knew what she was saying was right. Sending an alert out this early will possibly create more panic or make it more difficult to catch the murderer. You lowered your head, rubbing the side of your face as you realized your reaction was inappropriate. 

“You’re right, Captain,” you stated, apologizing for your misbehavior, “I’m sorry, I just want to find the son of a bitch who killed Glimmer.” Captain Parish’s facial expression flashed to extreme pity as she realized your condition. There were bags under your eyes, your body posture was losing its stance, and your eyes were bloodshot red. However, she understood your desire to find the murderer; she wanted to find them as well before it was too late. “No need to apologize, detective, but I’m ordering you to take an absence for the rest of the day. Get some sleep,” she commanded, her tone indicating that there was no room for debate. It would be best to just obey her orders. She walked away, preventing you the opportunity to speak anymore. 

Although you wanted to fight back, you agreed with her. You haven’t had a good rest for the past couple of days, and you needed to regain your sanity before you attempted to arrest the murderer. You looked back at the crime scene once more before taking off the gloves and walking towards the yellow tape, ignoring the screams and questions emitting from news reporters who swarmed around you once you walked towards your car. You sat in your car for a few moments, continuing to ignore the yells before turning on the ignition and driving away, heading towards your apartment. 

Once you were safely parked on the street across your apartment, your hands shakily held onto the steering wheel, unable to process what you witnessed. Suddenly, it finally weighed on you that Glimmer Carson was dead, and the person who murdered her left something for you. Did the killer know of the relationship you had with Glimmer? With Amanda? Were they following you? Why did they say you were living in the past? Why did they tell you to move on? What did it signify? Who did they plan on killing next? And, was there any way you could prevent another murder? 

Paranoia filled your mind, and you felt your heart beat faster as you stared at your apartment. Was it even safe to stay at your apartment? The gun strapped to your waist didn’t even assure you that you were from harm’s away. But, where else would you go if you decided to leave? You contemplated the idea of staying at Michael’s apartment, since he offered on various occasions, but you didn’t want to put his life at risk as well. Your lives were already dangerous enough, and you didn’t want to put your burden onto him, he was already stressed enough. Your ringtone brought you back to reality, and Michael’s name appeared on the caller ID, but you hesitated on responding back. You let the ringing continue until your voice mail answered the call, and you knew after the third call, he would stop calling since it was your usual way of notifying him that you wanted to be left alone. 

You reassured yourself that you would text him later, telling him you were sleeping, but as of right now, you needed some time to clear your mind. Yet, sleeping in your apartment made your stomach twist and turn once you began to settle on the idea that the murderer knew of your every move. Suddenly, an idea popped in your head, and you took out your phone, opening up your contacts, scrolling until you found the name you were looking for. As the name appeared on the screen, your finger looming over the dial button, you refrained yourself from pressing it. It’s been about two or three years since you’ve seen him, and you didn’t even know if he was going to pick up. It was still early in the morning, he was probably going to work soon, and you didn’t want to burden him with your issues; but, he was your last option, and you knew that he would be able to protect you if there was any danger. 

You pressed the dial button, holding the phone over your ear, hoping that he would respond. After the second ring, you heard scuffling noises come from the other side of the call. Your hands turned sweaty as you didn’t know what to say. 

“Y/N?” he stated, confusion seeping out of his voice once he realized that it was you who was calling him. After so many failed attempts of him trying to call you, he was taken aback yet relieved once he saw your name pop up on his phone; he didn’t miss a beat and instantly picked up the phone, content that he would finally get to hear your voice. The soft sound of his voice brought a tiny sense of hope, and you began to recall memories you shared with him. You pulled back the hair that fell in front of your face, leaning your head against the window. 

“Hey, Pete. It’s been a while.”  

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

Your hands felt clammy once again as you stood in front of Peter’s door, waiting for him to let you into his apartment. You briefly explained your situation to him, and he instantly understood your concerns and paranoia, telling you to come over. Now, as you stand here waiting, all of your emotions that you swept under the rug were now slowly crawling back into your life. The last time you spoke to him was when you were a senior in college, and you never had the heart to tell him why you disappeared from his life. Peter was your best friend since high school, and when you left, it utterly destroyed him; he thought he did something wrong, and you offered no explanation. Yet, he knew you were a detective, as he took the time to read every newspaper that spoke of you, and while he was extremely proud, he couldn’t help but wish he was beside you. 

While you were anxiously waiting for Peter to let you in, on the other side of the door, Peter was pacing back and forth in his room, thinking of various things to say once he saw you. His hands were clammy as well, and he was frightened of seeing you. After everything you guys went through, your friendship was suddenly broken as soon as you graduated college and became a detective. However, he pushed the heartache he endured for years to the side once he realized that he was finally going to be able to see you again. While the circumstances were unfortunate, he hoped he had a chance to rekindle your friendship. 

Peter slowly walked towards the door, taking a deep breath before turning the doorknob. Your eyes quickly shot up as you watched the door open, and you deeply inhaled as you were now face to face with Peter Parker. His hair was gelled back, as always, and he was wearing an unbuttoned flannel over a graphic t-shirt, which told a chemistry pun. You bit back a laugh as you realized that Peter did not change at all; he still looked like himself, a bit bulkier, but nonetheless, still the same. However, part of you worried that Peter looked at you differently. 

“Hi, Pete,” you softly said, giving him a smile as you still stood in front of his doorway. Peter’s heartbeat fastened as you still called him by his nickname, and he was suddenly an 18-year-old boy again. He had the desire to wrap his arms around you, but he knew that it was too soon. Even the mere presence of you brought back the heartache he felt years ago. Yet, Peter returned the smile, his teeth brightly beaming as he moved his body to the side, ”Hey Y/N, come on in.” You cautiously walked in, your eyes scanning over the apartment. The living room was a bit messy, but you weren’t surprised at all, giving by what his responsibilities were. You awkwardly stood in the middle of the room, not wanting to sit down on his furniture until he offered. Peter closed the door behind him, and he wiped his palms on his jeans, walking over to stand beside you. You turned to the side, giving him another simper. 

“Would you like something to drink?” Peter asked, breaking the heavy and awkward climate. You nodded your head, “water, please.” He bent his head before disappearing into the kitchen as you slowly walked around the room, taking in every inch of the room before he came back. Your hand delicately traced the dresser placed against the wall, looking at the photo frame. Your smile turned into a frown as you gently picked up the frame, feeling your heart drop as you saw a picture of Peter and his uncle sitting on the couch; it was taken days before Uncle Ben was murdered, and a lump formed in your throat as you clearly remembered the day you found out. It felt so odd knowing that Uncle Ben’s death occurred eight years ago; you extremely miss him, and he was one of the reasons you became a detective.

The sound of Peter’s footsteps alerted you, and you gingerly placed the frame back into its original place, wiping away the dust that was slowly forming around the photo; you turned around, walking towards Peter as he held a glass of water. You thanked him and unintentionally chugged down the water, the lack of sleep and food made you deeply crave water. Peter headed towards the couch and sat down, to which you followed his movements. There was another long moment of silence as both of you were unaware of how to start a conversation. Your friendship with Peter was so strong, but now, you were a complete stranger to him. “How’s May?” you asked, breaking the silence and tracing a light pattern on the glass as a way to ease your mind. Peter’s face was filled with delight as he thought of his aunt. “She’s good, got a promotion couple of weeks ago.” Your eyes shined with joy. May deserved the promotion; you’ve seen her diligently work for years, and you were glad her job was finally recognizing her hard work. 

“That’s really great, Pete. How are you doing? Is Jameson still a shitty boss?” you asked, a grin forming as you recalled the horrible yet funny experiences Peter had with J Jonah Jameson. Peter let out a chuckle, sinking further into the couch as he started to get comfortable. He scratched the back of his head, “Yea, same shitty ass personality, but as long as I give him photos of Spider-Man, he’s less of a douchebag.” A chuckle left your lips as you laughed at Jameson’s idiocy, which made him completely oblivious to the fact that Peter was Spider-Man. 

You’re still surprised that Peter is able to keep the secret from others; however, you were always observant, so you weren’t shocked once Peter told you while you were in his bedroom late one night as you were studying for a chemistry exam. Your ability to notice things others couldn’t made you a great detective. Peter noticed how your stoic demeanor shifted into a tranquil one, and he was content with himself that he was able to quickly change your mood. “How about you, Y/N? I see your face from time to time on the newspapers as you constantly fight criminals,” Peter conveyed, his eyebrows wiggling up and down, to which you shook your head in disapproval, but he could see how hard you were trying to hide your grin. 

“How I’m doing?” you repeated out loud, pondering as you tried to answer the question. It was a simple question, yet you didn’t know how to answer him. “I’m doing what I’ve always dreamt of,” you truthfully stated, looking at Peter’s eyes as he smiled to your response. He knew how much being a detective meant to you, and he was so proud of you; however, he detected the way your voice cracked as you finished your sentence. Your fingers traced small shapes on the glass, “but there are moments where I wonder if I made the right decision,” you softly whispered, trying to maintain a steady voice. You felt your eyes burn as you thought of Glimmer, but you wiped your eyes, feeling vulnerable and embarrassed that Peter was watching you. A frown formed on Peter’s lips as he observed how you were on the edge of shattering, but he remained silent. 

You let out a small laugh in attempts to lighten the mood, but your eyes were bloodshot red, a sorrowful and dejected look on your face. “I couldn’t protect her, and it’s all my fault,” you revealed, a hint of disgust and disappointment directed towards yourself. Your job was to serve and protect New York, but you couldn’t even save a life. Peter stretched his hand out, placing it directly on top of your hands, causing your fingers to freeze as your cold hands touched his warm ones. His lips were pressed, forming a straight line, not knowing how to console you, but his eyes glistened, telling you that he understood the pain you felt. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter spoke, his thumb slowly rubbing your skin. “I know it’s difficult, but you can’t blame yourself. You can’t save everyone. But, I promise you, Y/N, that I’ll do everything I can to catch the murderer,” Peter confessed, bringing his body closer to yours. He recalled the way your voice trembled when you called him, and he understood your fear as the murderer directly sent you a message, but he was going to make it his mission to protect you, even if it costs him his life. Your body melted into his as his other hand was placed on your upper arm, and you were glad that you were with him. 

“You can stay here as long as you want until we catch the murderer, I don’t mind,” Peter added, his lips forming an empathetic smile, ”we’ll work together; it’s about time Detective Y/L/N and Spider-Man teamed up to solve a case,” Peter stated, to which you agreed, a faint simper on your face as Peter attempted to console you. He always had the right words to cheer you up, and you began to regret the way you treated him years ago. 

“Pete, I’m so sorr-,” you tried to convey, but Peter cut you off, squeezing your hand. “I know,” he replied, “but how about you rest first before we have that conversation? You look like you’re about to pass out.” You looked at Peter, feeling guilty that you weren’t able to tell him the truth, but you were grateful that you were finally going to have the opportunity to sleep. You nodded your head, agreeing with Peter’s words. 

“Sleep sounds great,” you responded, rubbing your eyes as you tried to stay awake. Peter smiled at you, detaching himself from you and standing up. “You can stay in my bed, since I have to go to work in about an hour,” he stated, scratching his head, ”I mean-if, that’s alright with you?” You felt your heart warm as Peter still got nervous around you. “That sounds great, Pete, thank you so much,” you sincerely said, standing up as Peter ran to his room, making you assume that he was attempting to hide his dirty clothes or his Legos. You laughed to yourself, picturing Peter still having a Star Wars poster hanging above his bed frame. Once Peter called out your name, you started to walk towards his room. 

As you entered his room, you were slightly disappointed that Peter didn’t have Star Wars posters, his Legos, nor his other geeky items scattered across his room; however, you weren’t upset with the layout of his bedroom. He grew up, but you pretended to not see the poorly hidden Legos box under his bed. “Here are sweatpants and a shirt to sleep in,” Peter said, handing you a pair of his clothes. You beamed, thanking him as he continued to speak,” I have to start getting ready for work, but help yourself to anything in my kitchen if you’re hungry.” You nodded your head, awkwardly waiting for Peter to leave the room so you can change, but his innocent face told you he had no idea that you wanted to change. 

“Um, Pete, do you think you can leave the room so I can change?” you asked, a giggle escaping from your mouth as Peter’s face reddened from embarrassment. He playfully smacked his forehead, ”right, of course, sorry. I’ll let you change, I’ll come back to say goodbye.” Peter didn’t wait for you to respond before he scurried out of the room, still embarrassed by his actions. Once you heard the door close, you wasted no time and changed into Peter’s clothes, feeling your body about to shut down. You plopped onto the bed once you were finished, feeling yourself drift even though you attempted to remain awake until Peter came back. But, your body was giving up on you, and you slowly allowed yourself to fall asleep, thinking of Glimmer once more before your eyes shut closed. 

Unbeknownst to Peter, after giving you enough time to change and get situated, he softly knocked on the door, slowly opening it to say goodbye before he had to leave for work. However, as his eyes landed on your sleeping body, small snores emitting from your open mouth, his heart fluttered as he witnessed you completely knocked out; you were so tired that you didn’t even pull the blanket to cover your body. Peter beamed at the sight in front of him, tip-toeing his way to you, pulling the blanket over your body, to which you happily accepted. 

“Goodnight,” Peter softly whispered, retreating back into the living room. Peter grabbed his keys and jacket before heading out the door.

Taglist: @lukesbabylon​ @spideylovin​ @juliebean247​ @caitsymichelle13​ @averyfosterthoughts​

[ghostalservice]

Karate Kid/Cobra Kai survey

BLESS YOU @alienfuckeronmain for the tag, I love talking about myself!!!

It's the year 2021 and you're obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling?:  I hadn’t realized how much I missed fandom???? I’m delighted??? And everyone here is so NICE and BRILLIANT and the fic is SO good!! 

Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series?:  I had only the most vague concept of it as a kid - I was born between 2 and 3 so the franchise was somewhat out of pop culture by the time I was old enough to see, plus my parents were super anti-violence in media so we didn’t watch anything about fighting.

We gotta do the basics. Favorite character:  I’m so torn on this one, because I like writing Johnny, and I love his disaster journey, but I’m much more like Daniel and I love that they’re both feral but Daniel hides it better? So uhhhh. MIGUEL. Miguel is my favorite teen, so I’ll go with that.

Favorite ship: 2LaRussos1Johnny aka Amanda/Daniel/Johnny because honestly those two need a chaperone and also a top.

Underrated character: I need more Aisha. I specifically need @mimsyaf’s Aisha. 

Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol):  I’m very Soft so I just want more Aisha and Miguel friendship??? Also Sam and Demetri friendship? Just like. Friendships for these poor teens. Not sexy drama. FRIENDS.

Wax On, F*ck Off or Sweep the Leg?:  Wax On because I DIE every time he puts on the chain and the fluffy hair and says BONSAI MOTHERFUCKER. The smiley face in the cocaine? ICONIC. “I just want to get photographed getting an illicit handjob from you!!” I AM SO BUMMED :( . PERFECTION.

Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favorite?:  Anything with his little stick arms showing, like he’s trying to be a big tough guy but he’s just little??? Also the HUMONGOUS jersey???

Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver: JULIE PIERCE. Because you know what, I kind of loved The Next Karate Kid? Not just because it’s set in NotAtAll!Massachusetts, but also because she was a delight. i want her to come back as a wildlife rehab person who’s like, been to therapy and maybe coaches kids in karate on the weekends but it’s for fun. And she and Daniel know each other but she thinks he’s kind of a mess. 

Scene that lives in your head rent-free: The elevator scene, because I want one million fics of how it could have gone differently. Also the “Johnny’s got moves!” line from the double date. WHEW. Amanda, we all wanna see those moves.

Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?: YES. And I specifically want the version of him that @deputychairman wrote into High School Reunion because he was perfect and I loved him. I want him to call out Daniel and Johnny’s bullshit constantly. 

You live in The Valley and are forced into the karate gang war. Which dojo do you join?:  I’m kind of a feral disaster who loves boxing and hates meditation, so OBVIOUSLY Cobra Kai. Back when I was a little teen shit who thought I could get into like, calm things, I would have been 100% Miyago-do and I would have HATED it. 

What’s your training montage song?:  Oh absolutely Habib Galbi by A-WA because it SLAPS and I like to think she murders him in the end (also it’s been stuck in my head all week)

It’s the crossover event of the century!  Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special?: I really really really want Johnny and Daniel to have to deal with a world in which Ted Lasso exists. Imagine, Johnny’s like, “Oh my god this guy’s just like you LaRusso” and Daniel is horrified but he can’t say anything because his Human Suit is just a Ted Lasso ripoff, really, but he can’t pull it off like the genuine article. Look, I’m a simple human, I just want to see Daniel LaRusso notice that he’s not actually who he’s pretending to be, and have a breakdown about it. That’s all. Also, I want Coach Beard’s reaction to the whole “rival dojos, karate war for the soul of the Valley” thing.

Tagging @cobra-sigh, @iwonderifthatisart, @blinkasaurus, @itwoodbeprefect and whoever else wants to do it??? I don’t remember the etiquette of these things, it’s been years since I’ve been active on here hahaha

[omgbigfluffwriting]

You Don’t Own Me  Chapter 1

(A/N: In our second server swap I got @aperrywilliams as my giftee. Amanda inadvertently gave me the idea for this fic a few days before I wrote it because the main kink is cockwarming. Minors, please wait until you are of legal age to read. I really do not want to have parents messaging me.)

"Let's wait until our wedding night to have sex." Spencer's suggestion seven months ago took me way back. Well, now we had a week until our wedding and I regretted promising Spencer. I watched him as he corrected Criminal Psychology papers. 

I grabbed a lollipop, stuck it into my mouth and sat on Spencer's lap. "Y/N...Our wedding is just around the corner."

"Uh-huh." I said, beginning to kiss him.

“I love you, but I need you to go away because you’re really very distracting and I have to have these papers graded by tomorrow.” Spencer whined.

"Aww...Spence, no fair!" I said still kissing him.

"Y/N..." he said in irritation.

“You mean I’m only important when you need something from me.” I grumbled as I gently stroked his growing bulge with the tips of my fingers.

"Didn't mean that at all." He groaned. "I want us to wait, so behave."

"Make me." I said smugly.

“Are you trying to turn me on right now? Because it’s working.” Spencer moaned. I grinned at him. I stopped for a while. Then when he was halfway through his third pile, I started fidgeting. “Stop moving on my lap, it’s not making the situation any better.” Spencer snapped.

“I disagree.” I said.

“I really don’t care. You look so hot and it's taking all I have to try not to fuck you senseless right now.” I pouted and got off his lap.

"I guess I'll just get off all by myself." I murmured, heading to the bedroom.  Spencer grabbed my hand.

"Actually, just a second..." Spencer took off his belt and unzipped his slacks. "Come and sit." I sat on his thigh. He chuckled and said, "No, no. I want you to straddle me." 

I did as requested and moaned as his hardness entered me. "Spence..."

"Stay still, Y/N." He ordered. It didn't take long for him to finish grading, thankfully. He kept alternating between kisses and nips as he graded papers. Finally, he set the pen he was using down as I started trying to create some friction. His hips bucked forward. “Don’t think I’m letting you get away with that, darling.”

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” I whined.

"You could have waited one more week." He said sternly. I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Oh shut up. Why don't you try being me and constantly try not to notice whenever your fiance’s swollen crotch is at eye level?" He blushed scarlet.

"Okay, you have a point." He said, his hips bucking forward again. "I can't help imagining you pregnant.” My eyes widened in shock.

“You know, you always look so much better when I mark you up.” I said as I leaned into him to drive him a bit deeper, which made him hit against my pleasure spot.

“No, thank you. I'm not getting teased by Luke again.” Spencer replied softly. “Oh, god, I’m coming! I’m there! Yes, oh, fuck, I’m -!” 

“Don’t hold back, Spence.” I murmured. “Come for me.” Just as I said this, I felt him climax inside of me.

“Y/N...” he moaned.

“Spence...” I kissed his cheek. A few minutes later, I felt Spencer get up so I wrapped my legs around his backside.

“You’re getting so hard again.” I moaned, feeling him become erect inside me.

“Only for you, sweetheart.” Spencer said chuckling as he carried me to what would be our bedroom after the wedding. “And we have all night.”

----

“How many rounds was that? Four? Jeez, we’re about to break our own record.” I muttered as Spencer slid out of me.

“Actually, I believe that was our fifth time.” he says breathlessly before suckling my breast. “Soon to be sixth.” I groaned. Maybe we should take a break.

“Maybe we should take a break?” I suggested. Spencer didn't stop. In fact, I think he ignored me.

“Fine but in 2 hours, I want to see your pretty little lips wrapped around my penis.” he finally said before closing his eyes. I smirked. He’d have his wish in 1.

---

1 hour later:

I slid down and because I'm a bit of a brat, I decided to wake Spencer up with what he wanted. Thankfully, Spencer doesn't wear clothing whenever I come over, so his length was quite easily accessible. 

I took him into my mouth. I gave his manhood a few small licks which I knew drove him crazy, then gradually got bolder as I massaged his balls tenderly, coaxing his hardness to become fully erect. His thighs tensed.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive.” I joked. He sighed and rubbed his temples.

“Don’t think I’m letting you get away with that either, darling.” he muttered. I snorted. Spencer would let me get away with anything short of murder, theft... basically anything that wasn't breaking the law. 

“I already have.” I taunted. I felt a chuckle from him.

 “Lay back and let me take care of you.” I acquiesced, switching positions with the love of my life. He kissed my nose then smirked. “Mm, where should I start?!”

“My breasts.” I suggested. He shook his head.

“I always start with your breasts.” he muttered. Then his eyes lit up and he scooted down.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Returning the favor.” he replied before he licked me. I moaned. He was good. I came undone seconds after. He looked expectantly at me and added, “Told you I wouldn't let you get away with that.”

“Unbelievable…” I muttered. “Just get…”

“Actually, don't order me around.” He murmured as he sank into my depths and kissed me. I could taste myself on him. He stroked my side idly, letting me adjust to his fullness before finding his rhythm.

“You should not have made me promise.” I remarked.

“I shouldn't have.” He agreed before I felt him climax. “How can I make it up to you?” I pretended to think about it. He'd come up with something though.

“Up to you, babe.” I said.

---

I was surprised when Spencer told me that we were going somewhere else after work. It wasn't Rossi's as Krystall and Rossi wanted a quiet evening or so Rossi said when I asked. All I knew is that Spencer muttered under his breath, “JJ and Garcia are going to kill me.”

Spencer was driving now, as I had a blindfold on. “Where are we going?” I asked for what seemed like the millionth time. Spencer didn't answer and I was getting irritated with him.

“We’re almost there.” Spencer said. I set my hand on his thigh. “Stop it, Y/N.” he admonished as I stroked his inner thigh.

“Why should I? You won't tell me where we're going and I'm bored.” I complained. My hand brushed against his growing bulge in his slacks and I gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I would really appreciate it if we saved that for later.” Spencer said. I pouted and withdrew my hand. “Since I don't want to be standing with an erection in front of a justice of the peace.”

“We’re getting married tonight?”

“I’ve already proven I can't keep my hands off you for the remainder of the time we have left, so yes.”

“So that's why JJ and Garcia might possibly kill you.” I mused as he pulled in the driveway to see Aaron Hotchner, Luke Alvez, Derek Morgan and JJ glaring at him.

“How did…” Spencer started.

“You left your plans on your desk.” Luke stated. “Emily called Hotch and Rossi called Derek.”

“Do you seriously think Morgan, Hotch and I would miss your wedding?” JJ asked. “We’ve been waiting for this wedding for years.”

Spencer sighed. “Actually, I didn't think.”

“Oh that's quite obvious, Einstein.” Rossi said dryly as he came out of the office. “Come on, my mansion.”

“Why?” Spencer asked.

“You, assclown, owe both Gideon and I a wedding and since Gideon is dead, I'm insisting as is my right as your immediate supervisor if we don't count Emily.” I barely had time to stifle my laugh at Rossi's declaration. 

“Fine.” Spencer said as he put on his seatbelt again.

---

Spencer was slow dancing with me. He’d been quiet throughout the ceremony, only speaking his vows. “I love you.” Spencer murmured as he rubbed his thumb against my hand.

“I love you too.” I whispered.

“Getting married tonight was supposed to be my making that up to you.” he whined adorably.

“Don’t worry, you're forgiven.” I said, grinning. “Let’s get out of here, Einstein.”

“Agreed.” Spencer murmured. Rossi comes up to us.

“Go. You two have been here long enough.” he encouraged. Spencer takes my hand and after telling Rossi good night, we get into the car and ride off into the sunset.

@cupcake525

@andiebeaword​

@foyetsnewhitlist

[vinylhazza]

imagine sending ur nudes to e by accident omg the next day he’d be imagining you naked and eventually you two fuck🥵

oh my gosh you would be lounging around talking to your best girl friend or something, often times sending her your risqué photos when you’re feeling down about yourself. she always has the best hype up messages when you’re feeling like a swamp creature. you’re really just pacifying your boredom from being stuck inside for a ridiculously long amount of time - not wanting to go into the sweltering heat of the upcoming summer. you had a habit of overheating and making yourself sick.

usually you’re good at looking at the contact name before you send something so exposed to her, giving yourself the comfirmation before hitting send. but today just had to be the one day your finger hit the send button too fast, your eyes flicking up in panick mode to read “E ❤️” at the top of the screen.

fuck. 

you’re sitting on your bed at this point hyperventilating, about to pass out, dizzy as hell, nauseous, genuinely not good. you’d never sent him anything like those pictures before. and that was the thing, it wasn’t just one it was several pictures of your naked body to your best guy friend. you’re very hot, best guy friend. you look over the set of photos you’d sent: you’re laying back on your bed in nothing but a pair of black lace panties, breasts on display, sunlight trickling across your abdomen and perky nipples, a golden glow touching your skin. the panties were honestly nothing but a piece of pathetic fabric that could be compared to dental floss - you know if you turned around you’re ass would be bare as it could be. 

you never had any intention of sending them to anyone - as your not speaking to anyone romantically at the moment. truth is you’ve been hooked on a certain someone for a while. the same certain someone you just accidentally sent your nudes to. how convenient.

honestly i imagine him to be shell-shocked. maybe he was mid-conversation with grayson, unlocked his phone at your notification, and sat frozen and speechless while he stared down at the screen - your breasts sitting pretty for his eyes only. grayson would be pausing at his silence, questioning him on why he’s sitting there like he’s “waiting to catch flies” in his mouth. ethans cheeks would heat to an unbearable temperature, not believing what he’s seeing - his best friend - naked and biting the tip of her fingernail.

throuought both the day and night you hear no response from ethan, total dead silence. it made you more nervous than if we were to send back a simple “wrong number?” or “huh?” ...silence. did he like it? did he hate it? did he just not see it? you knew better than that judging at the read receipt that stared you in the face on the screen, only making you heart race faster. 

it was a night of little sleep for the both of you, neither one knowing of the filthy thoughts running through the others head. ethan tossed and turned in his bed that night, knowing he would see you tomorrow for session with grayson. you’re a personal trainer, hence how you met and became so close with the twins. it had been a year since you started working with grayson, not really seeing the reason because he already was well off, as well as ethan. but you never made a complaint, helping and instructing anyway that you can. you became friends instantly, most of the time making it a hangout session rather than a trainer/trainee situation. 

you had kept your eyes on ethan since the day you showed up at their house for the first session, breath caught in your throat when he opened up the door with a dazzling smile, lips stretched tight across his teeth. he was gorgeous, you wouldn't deny that. yes, grayson was handsome, and yes they were identical twins - but you fell in love with ethans heart quickly. nothing ever came from it, teasing, friendly banter. it was strictly friends. but you’d always felt something brewing beneath the surface, too scared to let him know you wanted something more. head over heels was an understatement. shit the guy couldn't even hug you without your heart doing flips inside of your head. 

you’d given up hope about a month ago, bummed out that despite your subtle advances, he was a lost cause. he showed his love in his own way, trying his hardest to make you see he felt it, he felt all of it. lost in translation, your love was. the hugs became less frequent, the teasing still showed up, but less flirty. it broke him bit by bit until he finally accepted that he’d lost something he never really had in the first place. he backed off, tried to discipline himself to think of you as just a friend - until those pictures popped up on his phone. 

there he was, laying in bed with his hand wrapped around himself, eyes glued to the picture of your perky breasts, god you were gorgeous. fuck the plan, he thought, tugging up and down his length with a tight fist - trying to keep quiet in fear of grayson hearing him. across town, you were doing the same - rubbing a hand at your mound, thinking of him thinking about you. you had no knowledge of it actually being true, but just the thought of him seeing you so exposed and dare you say sexy in a set of photos really did something to you. 

the next day was terrifying for both of you, neither wanting to mention your little accident first, both wanted to play dumb and just hope it disappeared in time. 

until you caught up watching you during your squats, not in a way he has ever before, his eyes were drinking you in. in a hungry way. not observant, not innocent, but dirty. you tried to ignore the wetness in between your thighs, keeping your eyes on grayson, watching his form, telling him to straighten up every so often, cracking a joke in hopes it would get ethan to stop staring at you and laugh along. but he kept his eyes focused on you, knuckles white on the edge of the bench he sat on. 

okay, if he wants to stare, so will you. 

turning your head to look at him was a bold move, his eyes focusing on your mouth instead of your chest - his bottom lip popping free from his teeth. was he, checking you out? he’d never been so bold about it before. you watched each other close while you continued your squats, eyes trained on his the entire time. you thanked the heavens you put your hair in a ponytail, it was far too hot in this gym and you knew you would look like a monster if your hair was any other way.

“okay...fuck...my legs feel like jello,” grayson giggles, plopping onto his butt after hitting just above 300 squats. you would never recommend doing that many, but he had a weird goal in mind, so you figured if he was going to do it, might as well help him doing it the correct and healthy way. 

“mine too,” you agreed, sitting down yourself. with your face as red as ever with ethan’s eyes staring at you, you took a sip from your water bottle, smiling at the cold water traveling down your throat. it felt good to have a hard workout. 

“I think i’m going to eat something before we go again, you want something?” grayson’s offering his hand to you, nodding when you shake your head to turn him down. if you ate now you might throw up from the nerves running like crazy through your body, your stomach a pit of butterflies. not the best idea to shove food into the mix. 

“i’ll catch up with you in a bit,” ethan speaks up, watching his brother leave the room before turning his eyes back on you. 

“so are we really gonna talk about it or are you just gonna stare at me like you've never seen tits before?” bold move. 

“why did you send them to me? that is what I wanna know.” he ignores your question, coming back with his own. 

“accident.”

“lie,” he challenges you with a cocky smirk, raising from his position on the bench, 

“I meant to send them to Amanda, not you, don't get cocky,” you’re really testing the waters, knowing damn well everything spilling from your mouth is a load of bullshit. even Amanda, whom you told of your little mishap, screamed blood murder over the phone, insisting the mistake was in fact fate and not happenstance. 

he’s still smirking, standing tall in front of you. he had been pretty much silent through the workout with grayson, off on his own most of the time. you didn't mind, knowing it was probably weird for him at least for now. so you let him be, focusing on grayson for the rest of the day. but this...this was new.  

“you’re awfully bold for someone that showed no interest in me any other time,” you point out, shrugging like you made the most valid point ever. 

“maybe you read the signs wrong babe.” that fucking pet name. 

“i’m pretty sure I didn't. anyways why does it matter? it was a mistake and now we can forget about it and move on know that we’ve acknowledged it,” you nod to yourself. it seems fair considering you're about to burst into flames at how close he’s standing to you. you know deep down you’ll never be able to forget about it. 

“I don't think I want to,” he mutters, his seductive tone taking your breath away. looking up at him, only caused your heart to beat faster, he looked serious. you’ve never heard his voice so calm. 

“well...you have to. we are bestfriends,” you stutter, standing to your feet in an attempt to back away. 

“best friends who like each other,” he drones on, keeping his eyes locked steady on yours. 

“fat chance.”

“best friends who want to fuck each other...” he’s inching closer, grabbing at the bare skin of your waist to bring himself closer to you. you almost scream in surprised as his hand comes to clamp over your mouth, arm reaching behind you to crack the door open, staring into the hallway with that same devilish smirk. 

“hey gray?!” he shouts, hand still cupped over your mouth. his other hand returns to your side, thumb rubbing back and forth across your skin. you’re surprised at the reaction from your body, your pussy clenching tightly around nothing, the aching becomes less bearable. 

“yeah?” his voice echoes from down the hallway, sounding busy and disinterested. 

“I think we are out of almond milk, you mind running to the store real quick? please?” his tone has switched to one you know well, the one he uses when he tries to manipulate his little brother into getting his way. you would swat at him if his fingers weren't dancing along the inside of your thigh right now, dangerously close to your clothed heat. 

“why can't you?” grayson whines, still far enough down the hallway he couldn't see into the room. if he could...i’m sure he would be just as confused as you are. 

“because I asked you,” he points out, chuckling at the annoyed groan he gets in return. 

“you paying?” 

“it’s not like we have the same bank account or anything fuck face. but you want to use my card it’s in my wallet on the counter. thank you bro.” with that he’s shutting the door, with his hand still moving between your legs, he removes his other from your mouth, instead wrapping it in your hair - loosening your ponytail. 

“look at you...so small and innocent...like you didn't send me filthy pictures of you last night,” he hums, leaning close to kiss at your neck, “i bet you touched yourself at the thought of me looking at them huh?” he whispers hot in your ear, tongue poking out to lick at your lobe slowly, sucking it into his mouth before it pops free. 

you are drenched, not registering the nod you give him, wanting to slap yourself for being so easy. 

“so are we done pretending or do i need to convince you more? he won’t be gone forever.” his fingers cup your cunt through your leggings, rubbing his fingers across you to cause a friction that makes you tense in his arms, grasping at his biceps in shock. his hands feel much better than your own. 

you realize how quickly you’re grabbing at the back of his neck too late, bringing him down to seal your lips together perfectly. the kiss is passionate, more passionate that it really should be for being so sudden. it was filled with longing and need, something you’ve been experiencing towards him for quite some time.

he is sighing against your lips, shuddering at how good your skin feels under his fingertips, hungry for more than just a kiss.

he’s growing frustrated quickly, stopping with a huff and holding your face close.

“i wanna talk, i do, about what the fuck is going on. but i can’t wait...need you now,” he explains, eyes never breaking away from your own. you understand his need perfectly, it matches with your own. 

“we can talk later,” you nod at him, seemingly giving him the green light to pick you up by your hips with a squeal falling from your mouth. your back meets the semi-plush cushion of the bench press, staring up at your bestfriend hovering dangerously close to your face. he’s got this smile you’ve only ever seen a few times, when he’s so utterly happy he can’t contain himself. it makes you melt to think that this is one of those moments for him. with a quick peck to your lips, he’s lowering down onto his knees, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your leggings, pulling down slowly. 

“for the meantime...gonna fuck you so good.” 

[derekmorganscrocs]

Nancy Drew 2x9

Thoughts While Watching

Spoiler Alert!!

Aw no poor bess. AW PLATANCHOR ACE! Oh besties so cute. Poor bess oh no

Odette coming through with the pessimistic vibes about the day. Me. Always. “Nickolas” HAHAH Odette please. She’s so sassy. “No I’m not au-revoiring, you are.” Nick pls. GEORGES TATTOOS- George is gonna die omfg. Pls Nick is the only logical one here. OF COURSE IT WAS GONNA GET STOLEN YOU PUT IT IN YOUR DAMN LOCKER.

oh it’s probably Gil, not Grant. Sorry I thought you were a murderer grant. NOT THE PIE. why’d ace sound so sad about the pie. TELL ME STONER BOY DIDNT SNITCH.

AW ACE THE LIL FLOWER. “Aw Ace I’m so happy for you :) now I’m gonna die :)”. I think that Grant is an informant or something.

Sassy thief bad boy, I like. But I also don’t bc he’s tryna kill george. PROTECTIVE NICK! Detective Nick 😏. OH ACEMANDA, okay. Ohh

Okay wait I kinda feel bad for Gil. But mans is still going to end george. Oh Nick is v hot okay. Protective Nick. I love him. And Gil is kinda noble despite the whole killing george and theft thing ngl.

Carson coming thru. Of course, king Carson thanks babe. “Ok can GEORGE weigh in?” Pls george you’re funny.

BESS OMG WHAT R THOSE? TONGS? Carson and Bess moment funny. “Are you alright?” He sounds so fine with it but also so concerned. AW CARSON FATHERING BESS TOO PLS I LOVE HIM. The Drew Crew is now Carson’s Crew Of Baby Ducks.

Okay I mean at least Amanda didn’t spill. She’s so pretty too!!! Okay but I kinda like the bobseys ngl. Sorry guys. Gil is also very hot. I bet their mom either isn’t dead or is gonna show up as a ghost?? Okay but I feel bad for them no. Oh do I smell an Acemanda scavenger hunt?

NO NO NO NOT THE FANSON FIGHT. AW NO PLS I LOVE THEM. HES PROPOSING?! Oh no nvm. DO NOT BREAK UP. DO NOT. Fanson scavenger hunt?

Oh is that b dead? No nvm they’re still breathing. OH GIL JUST DIPPED. Patience impaired- MOOD. OH THAT WAS HOT “wasn’t this more fun than picking a lock” WOAH THERE BUCKO. YEAH BUT WOAH.

“Am I crying too loud” BESS IS A MOOD. Aww Carson is trying to distract her, please omg. Dad Carson is so cute. LAWYER BESS, LAWYER BESS.

Oh that’s creepy. NOT A BASEMENT- NANCY UR DUMB. OH THAT WAS SO FUCKING SCARY WHYD THIS PRINCE PHILLIP LOOKING MF JUMP LIKE THAT- NOT THE BASEMENT. fake wall? Yeah Gil break down that wall. OH GOD IS THAT HIS MOM?

HE STASHES THINGS BESIDE THE POLICE STATION- WHAT?! I love that. Acemanda could be cute though? Maybe? Idk I need to decide if I can share.

ODETTE IS BACK. Nick is so over it. WHY IS SHE SO SALTY ABT BEING STUCK IN GEORGE LMFAO. PLS “granite, limestone. Be done with it” ODETTE I CANT. She’s outta pocket. “Oh, well. Odette called me an idiot.” PLS NICK AND ODETTE ARE SO FUNNY.

Oh it’s just drawings, I thought it was a body. Poor Gil :( wait I actually feel bad. Ok I’m here for Gil but he’s pissing me off with this whole shroud thing. DONT KILL GEORGE, U HOE. Mommy’s ghost is boutta show up. NO WAIT WHAT IF SHE WAS KILLED BY A GHOST. she totally was. HAHA nancy got caught. I laugh but that was awkward.

KILLED BY GHOST, OBVIOUSLY. “We’ve heard great things about your restrooms.” PLS. Ace knowing nothing about art. NANCY ITS UNKOWN THEYRE OBVS NOT GONNA HAVE THE NAME.

Dad Carson aw. Pls besties Bess and Carson. AWWW THERE WASNT EVEN A HEARING. Carson should just adopt the entire Drew Crew. LAWYER BESS! LAWYER BESS! I WANT LAWYER BESS! Dad Carson please adopt me too. REASSURANCE. I LOVE.

“Technically they sold it to nick” “What?” PLS NICK/ACE IS SO FUNNY TO ME. besties are so funny. SHES NOT DEAD I TOLD YALL SHES NOT DEAD. IF GEORGE DIES I WILL RIOT.

GIL YOU NEED TO CHILL. SIR. PLEASE DO NOT DO IT. DONT DO IT. Oop Nancy is already there. SHES STILL ALIVE I TOLD YOU GUYS. please poor Gil. Aw, I feel so bad. She was definitely actually being haunted, but I digress. No please poor Amanda. “Why would she tell you but not me?” HIS VOICE GOT SO SMALL. TWIN MOMENT. okay but Amanda coming thru for the Drew Crew. WOOHOO GIL REDEMPTION!

“Cheer up Boss.” IF BESS DOESNT KEEP CALLING NICK BOSS ILL BE UPSET. “There’s still an old timey French lady living in my girlfriend.” AW OMG. ODETTE NO-

GEORGE NO. NONONO. oh thank god nick and Bess got there. Bess coming through with the lawyering. Nice. Bess crashing and burning here. “If you do this to george I wont have to imagine it. George deserves to live.” NICK- FANSON- CRYING. CRYING. OMFG HE LOVES HER. NICK I LOVE YOU. FANSON. HUG HUG HUG SWEET CUTE WOW. tag yourself, I’m bess crying in the background.

Nancy and Ace- “says the guy dating his twin sister” HE GAVE HER HIS HOODIE. I AM JEALOUS NGL. I’m very immersed in this, don’t Judge me. NOT THE BANANA CREAM PIE, NANCY PLS. oh they’re holding hands???

Acemanda on the boardwalk, the writers are stealing my ideas, smh. See: The Dumpster Fire I Call Life (linked below) OMG “I only need one” THAT WAS VERY CUTE AND I HATE IT. PLS STOP. JEALOUSY. CUE MR. BRIGHTSIDE- TPAIN SANS LE T- WAIT A DAMN MINUTE. ITS HIS BROTHER?! DO I SMELL FRANK HARDY?

Sister’s Thoughts:

“Why is Ace dressed like a fifth grader?” (It was the blue jacket with the green zipper that made her think that lmao)

“I’m just me, without any secrets,” Carson said.

“Except for your secret boyfriend.” My sister is the number one Caryan shipper.

“Aw Nick is the ghost possessing your girlfriend bullying you? Poor muffin.”

DUMPSTER FIRE FIC LINK:

[slash-me-please]

Imagine Billy kills you and you haunt him

Thought I'd be Okay P1

Warnings: Angst, He falls in love with you, gore. You get murdered. This gets really upsetting.

I don't write for Billy anymore but this idea was burnt into my soul.

-

Killings were starting up in Woodsboro. Once was this town a peaceful little neighborhood, and you wished it back.

It wasn't crazy to think that you weren't going to get murdered. Things like this didn't effect you. You'd live your life, a normal life. One which didn't include getting slaughtered one by one as your friend group dwindled in numbers. Maybe this was okay to think? That you hadn't climbed the social ladder far enough to fall in a category in which it was possible to get murdered? Unfortunately that's not how attackers thought. At least not yours.

-

You'd always hated tuesday. In your opinion it was even worse than monday, and maybe you would've hated it more if you knew that tuesday would be the last day of your life. Unfortunately you were not blessed with this information and instead sat obliviously on your bed. The phone rang. You ignored it. It rang again. You ignored it. It rang a third time and you groaned loudly, finally standing to answer it.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" The man on the other side of the phone asked. His voice sounded robotic and maybe as if he was on the verge of laughing. "Is this a prank? And if so it's utterly pathetic," You answered, eyebrows crunching as heavy breathing was all that was left. "What's your favorite scary movie?" It repeated, harshly. "Doesn't matter. You won't stick around long enough to remember." You laughed, moving to hang up before the man at the other end yelled loudly into the phone: "Don't you fucking hang up or I'll gut you like a pig!"

You felt bile raising up your intestines and you whined into the phone accidentally. Your hands started to shake and you racked your brain wandering to see if you locked the windows. Your question was answered as something in your living room crashed and you ran to your bedroom door to lock it.

"Why are you here? If you like movies so much then you should know that I'm not supposed to die." You answered shakily, moving to your window to peek open the blinds. Maybe you could run to your friend f/n's house. Could you make it? "And who's supposed to?" "You should be at Billy's. Surely you shouldn't be killing anybody but hell- if its anyone then he's the main character." You breathed, unlocking the hatch on the window quietly. "Besides, if you kill me that'll be such a setback. I wanna be a journalist when I graduate and-" "If you can answer all of my questions correctly then I will not kill you. Deal?" "Deal."

"Who was the first killer of the friday the 13th franchise?"

"Pamela Voorhees."

"Correct, now lets get a little harder. What was Freddy Krueger's mothers name?"

You pulled your lip between your teeth, heart pounding as you tried so desperately to remember. "Don't tell me you've given up already??" The eerie voice giggled excitedly.

"Amanda Krueger."

"Alright, what was the name of the final girl in Texas Chainsaw Massacre?"

Your face fell. You hadn't seen that movie in years. Finding the only answer to this you could, you hung up the phone and yanked the window open, pulling yourself barefoot onto the roof sliding. You yelped at the rough paneling biting into the soles of your feet, but quickly shuffled against the side of your house.

Your reflexes weren't quick enough to dodge how fast your bathroom window was pulled open and how even faster a man grabbed your ankles and yanked you through the window. You just nearly avoided hitting your head on the toilet seat as he pulled you into the hallway. You yelled no's loudly and kicked at his hands, crying out when on of them grabbed your right ankle and plunged a hunters knife through the sole of your foot, watching amused when it came out the top of your foot. "No no no please no!" You cried, almost gagging when he dropped your ankle and lifted you by the waist. Your hands came upwards and grabbed his mask, ripping it off quickly and screeching when you came eye to eye with your crush Billy. "Oh Billy, please don't, I wanna see my parents when they get back, please don't Billy. I told ya I wanted to be a journalist didn't I?" He only grinned at you, but just when you thought he'd put you down, he grabbed you by the crown of your head and slammed his knife between your eyes.

-

The transparency in your skin frightened you more than your murderer. Honestly you felt as if you'd just been lurched out of your body by an external force and the screech you let out was deafening. Your eyes widened upon seeing your corpse drop to the floor and Billy staggered away in disbelief. "No, no, no! Please no! God no! I didn't want this!" You cried, collapsing to the floor and attempting to rip the knife from your face. Billy looked quite shaken himself and reached to touch you, his hand going straight through. "Am I a ghost? Billy what'd you do to me? was this on purpose? Oh my god- I'm not gonna age! I can't die! I'm just going to be stuck here! Billy why?" You yelped. "I-I don't know, this hasn't ever happened before!" "Y-You... Oh my god! You killed me Billy! What the fuck??" You stumbled upwards and flailed your wrists. The carpet didn't even bend under your weight anymore. Your weight? Lack there of.

After processing the information you breathed out a heartbroken sob. "I guess this is it then?" You sighed, you wanted to cry so desperately but you unfortunately had no fluid inside you anymore. "Go Billy. Get out of here." You cried, attempting to smack his chest or even hit him in any way. "Do you think I can leave? Or am I stuck here for eternity?" You asked, more rhetorical than anything and he pressed his lips in a fine line, exiting out the window.

That night you processed everything fairly quickly. You watched the night roll by, unable to feel the breeze caress your face the way it did every night when you watched the sunset. You cried again. You stared blankly at your folded, dead body that Billy hadn't even done you the favor of covering it up before he exited. You watched the phone ring, once, twice. Then it stopped. It didn't start again for at least two hours and you watched it ring again.

As you said before, you weren't a main character. At least not to anybody in particular. Or in general. Your parents had mixed feelings. An average child, average grades, average hobbies, average looks. They didn't mind if you didn't pick up the phone. They didn't mind if you were dead in a ditch. You'd rather be in a ditch than folded in the hallway.

About two hours later your parents got home. They yelled into the house for you, telling you they'd take your phone for acting so foolishly and not answering their calls. That whole spiel you've heard before. But you decided not to wait and see the look of horror on your mother's face and instead thrusted yourself out the open window. Maybe you could walk through walls as if they weren't there. You'd rather not.

You picked up some will as you walked the silent streets of Woodsboro. They were silent until the sound of cop cars and an ambulance pulled into your driveway and the neighborhood walked outside to see you being brought out into a large body bag.

As you suspected, no one fell to the ground sobbing, no one cared. Some held their phones out and recorded and others took pictures. Some stared. But you stood next to Billy making offhanded comments about the whole thing. "Look at these fuckers, girl gets killed and no one even mourns. What a bitch. Taking pictures n shit." The only only one who looked even a little bit sad was F/N. But they held their composure well. "Can't believe you killed me of all people, what an ass. Is it cause I walked in on you changing that one time?" You asked, watching him grin slightly. "I hope you know, that one time in kindergarten, I broke your science project. It haunted me everyday. Not anymore. You're the one who's gonna get haunted Billy."

[bbrandy2002]

My Love

Chapter Six-Monsters

**So I needed a bit more time than I thought to figure out a change I made to this story. Thanks @dcbbw for talking me through my last minute idea and convincing me to go for it. And OMG @burnsoslow who spent soooo much time editing and working her magic and just for always being an amazing tbff.

Warnings: Attempted murder by beating, rape, mention of infanticide, mental breakdown and god only knows what else. EVIL!!! 

I have been working on this plot twist for two weeks. Just remember, I told you it wouldn’t always be sad.

*********

Amanda lay restless in her bed with a head full of secrets and a heart full of dreams. While staring blankly at the midnight time of her alarm clock, lit brightly in a reddish glow, she thought about the close call with Liam she had not more than 20 minutes ago. She didn’t lie to him; Riley did give her the key to their quarters. Did she also fail to mention to the king that it was the very same key she used on the night of his wife’s death? Of course. Did she also forget to mention to him that plans have been in place for months to procure certain outcomes in the lives of the Cordonian royal family to benefit others? Absolutely.

Amanda wasn’t here of her own doing. This virtually unknown young woman, who started her life as an orphan and found herself related to a queen, was hopeful that she could complete the mission she was sent here for. If everything worked according to plan, tomorrow would set in motion a series of events that was sure to change not only her life, but that of several others.

Thinking about the busy weeks ahead and a princess that was sure to wake for her feeding soon, Amanda rolled away from the illuminating light of her clock and closed her eyes. She fluffed her pillow and nestled further into it, attempting to clear her full mind for now and get some rest. Just as her body became comfortable and started to relax, she heard the voice of the king speaking through the baby monitor. She opened one eye, wondering why he was still up at this hour, then immediately opened the other when she heard him call out for Riley.

Several seconds passed, and she heard him frantically speaking out for his wife again. The sound of a door swinging open and his shuffling about the nursery stirred her from a pending slumber. Amanda pushed the blanket down to her waist and sat up in the bed, listening closer for any clues as to what the hell he was doing. She didn’t hear the baby crying, but curiosity was getting the better of her when she heard what sounded like Liam doing just that. Amanda rolled her eyes and shook her head while thinking about the utter insanity the King of Cordonia had been over the last month. She hoped that this plan would be worth it in the end, because she had grown tired of the weeping and depressive state he seemed to be stuck in. In her home country, a spouse, and often the offspring, were considered something of objects -- disposable ones at that. Amanda was surprised by his behavior and inability to just get over his wife’s death already.

The former personal assistant who was now serving as Ellie’s nanny, was living proof of what being unwanted and unloved entailed. It was possibly why she didn’t mind being used for this assignment. Being manipulated for the betterment of others was just the price she had always paid to be included and feel needed. It was too bad. Riley never treated her this way; poisoning the queen, who had been so kind to her, was one of the most difficult things she had ever done.

Ellie’s soft cries began to make their way through the baby monitor and Amanda groaned sleepily, knowing the King had undoubtedly woken her up with his emotional breakdown and commotion. She sighed and tossed the rest of the blankets back, swinging her feet to the floor.

Still tying her robe as she entered the nursery, an apologetic Liam was picking up his wailing daughter from her crib. Amanda backed out of the room quietly and planted her back against the wall beside the nursery door. His ass woke her up, he can get her back to sleep.

It was nothing personal against Ellie - she had grown quite fond of the baby. The consequences of Liam’s decisions, however, necessitated these uncontrite and acrimonious feelings toward him. How she would ever be able to pretend to love and care for a man that she loathed had been inconceivable, but she was confident she had played her part well enough - without anyone batting an eye - that she would continue to get away with it.

Amanda stood motionless and silent outside the room while she listened intently to see if she would be needed to assist with Ellie,intrigued to find out why Liam was calling out for his late wife in his daughter’s room.

Liam shifted Ellie from his arms to his shoulder while he rubbed soothing circles over her tiny back. He nuzzled his cheek over her featherlike blonde hair and paced about the room in an effort to lull her back to sleep. Still reeling from the voice of his wife - that he knew he clearly heard - his startled baby’s cries gave him pause.

“I’m so sorry, my princess.” he whispered tenderly. “Daddy never meant to scare you.”

Ellie’s small fist clenched and shook vigorously against his chest, which only enhanced his guilt and remorse. Eyeing the rocking chair next to her crib, he slowly walked back across the nearly dark room while bouncing rhythmically and methodically.

Lowering into the chair, he kissed the top of his daughter’s head and ran his thumb across her cheek to dry the red-hot tears that were streaming down it.

Liam closed his eyes as he moved back and forth with the rocker, continuing to calm his daughter’s fears.

Amanda listened as he spoke to Ellie about hearing her mother’s voice singing and how it elicited a reaction in him he was sorry for. She turned her head away and covered her mouth to stifle her laugh. He told me he was a little paranoid … my ass ... he is freaking losing his mind. She bit her lower lip with exuberance and prowled back to her room in time to hear that the baby’s cries had ceased. Amanda pulled her phone out of the drawer next to her bed and sent a series of text updates before she crawled back into her bed and fell asleep moments later.

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

Bright and early the next morning, Liam sat alone at the helm of the conference table while he awaited the arrival of the council. He had no desire to attend this meeting, especially on this first day of resuming his official duties since Riley’s murder.

Leaning back in the chair and tapping his fountain pen nervously against the notebook before him, he muddled through the events of the prior evening. He knew what he heard last night. Liam heard Riley’s voice so clearly and distinctly that there was no doubt in his mind that it couldn’t have been his imagination. Her sweet voice was all he had wanted to hear for weeks, and when she wasn’t in the nursery, it shattered him. That brief moment of hope over the prospect that everything since her death had just been a bad dream was swept away like a mighty tidal wave when she wasn’t there. It felt like losing her all over again with a heart that was already swollen with grief beyond what it could bear.

He dropped the pen on the notepad and rubbed his heavily tired eyes; that old familiar sting behind them from weeks of insomnia made it difficult to keep them open. Liam’s secretary refilled his coffee mug while members of the council began to file into the room. Each one offered their condolences or a sympathetic nod as they passed by … with the exception of one.

As the council settled into their places around the table, all eyes looked to Neville for an explanation of this impromptu meeting.

Liam took a sip of his coffee and nodded to the future Earl of Cormery Isle. “Lord Vancouer, you called this meeting. Would you please enlighten the council as to what is so important that it couldn’t wait until later in the week?”

Neville straightened in his seat and plastered on a smarmy grin.

“Your Majesty, it has been over 30 days now since the passing of the Queen. The citizens of my island are becoming concerned that there are no plans in place yet to replace Her Majesty.”

Drake let out a sardonic laugh. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. Tell me you’re joking.”

Hana placed her hand on Drake’s arm and eyed Neville with a wicked glare. “I’m wondering the same thing. What are you trying to do, Neville?”

The members of the council broke out into uproarious chatter while Liam dropped his head and remained outwardly calm and silent. He knew what Neville’s counter would be; it hit him like a ton of bricks at that very moment. Liam knew the law better than anyone in that room; he also knew from personal experience with his father what Neville was about to say.

Neville loudly cleared his throat and drew the attention of the council back to him. “I shouldn’t be surprised by the lack of knowledge of our political system by the people who surround me - especially you, Mr. Walker. Need I remind all of you of the Cordonian law that states that a social season should take place within 60 days to replace a vacated monarch’s position? Here we are, on day 31 since Queen Riley died, without any plans finalized to do just that.”

Once again, all ire fell on Neville as shouts in his direction took over the room.

Olivia slammed her hand on the table and quickly stood, drawing silence and recognition from everyone. “Lord Vancouer! Now let me remind you of what else the law says. The bylaws in section 2709C state that unanimous assent from the council can prolong the social season for up to a year. I see no need at this time to carry out a social season while this country is still mourning the death of its very popular queen!”

“I agree with the Duchess.” Bertrand exclaimed, followed by shouts of conciliation.

Madeleine closed her binder and glanced over to the far end of the table where Olivia was taking her seat again. She crossed her arms and let out a small sigh. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Olivia. There are enough women in this room who can fill in for the duties of the Queen … I understand if I can’t be one of them after what my father has done; however, I’m willing to help out in any way I can.”

Every member of the council had their chance to speak about their concerns, and each member was satisfied that there were enough people willing to step in to ensure that the stability of the crown and country would remain intact.

Drake leaned back in his seat and rested his hands behind his head. “Satisfied now, dickhead?” He grabbed the pen laying on the table before him and clicked the end of it to release the head from its casing. “I say we vote now.”

Neville smirked across the table from Drake while pompously steepling his fingers together. “Yes, Mr. Walker. I’m ready to vote as well. Remember you need unanimous consent from the council, and you have yet to convince me to change my mind. Thank you for not drawing out the inevitable.”

“How about I draw out your throat and shove it up your ass, you useless piece of shit!”

“Drake.” Liam held up his hand and finally spoke out for the first time since the meeting began, having heard enough. He knew Drake could handle Neville, and he usually found it rather entertaining, however, his life literally lay in the hands of the lord from Cormery Isle. It was obvious that the entire council, which also included Hakim, Landon, and Maxwell, was fine prolonging the social season for one year. Even at that time, Liam knew he wouldn’t be ready to marry another woman. There was no one who could replace Riley and he would concede there never would be, He would deal with that issue when the time came and not when he was completely caught off guard.

“Lord Neville,” Liam stated, twisting his wedding band anxiously. “You’ve heard the rest of the council, now I’m asking you to hear me. Your reasoning for holding a social season and having me marry again is no longer valid. It benefits no one in this room, nor Cordonia, and I’ve heard nothing of these concerns you speak of from the people of Cormery Isle. Also, I need to remind you of my infant daughter, who has just lost her mother, and doesn’t need the only parent she has left traipsing around the country when she needs me.” Liam looked pleadingly at Neville, revealing his vulnerability at that moment, hoping to garner sympathy from him. “Can I count on you to do what’s right for Cordonia, Neville?”

Neville fidgeted with his coffee mug, staring at it while he mulled over the king’s words. He looked up, his dull brown eyes looking straight into the bright blue, weary eyes of the leader of his country. He shrugged his shoulders and let out a heavy sigh. “You can count on me, sir.”

Liam nodded in approval and let out the breath he was holding. “Thank you, Lord Vancouer.”

Liam’s secretary passed out default ballots that the council only had to write a simple yea or nay for. Once everyone finished voting, she collected the ballots and handed them to be read by Bertrand.

The Duke of Ramsford stood from his seat and read each ballot’s vote aloud.

Liam glanced over at the empty seat next to him, the placard of his wife still mounted to the table before it. The room seemed to drift away with each vote read, all in his favor, yet he couldn’t believe he was even having to entertain that blowhard’s idea of marrying right now. His eyes met the back wall where the royal portrait of his late wife adorned the golden frame next to his. Her smile, her poise, her confidence gave him strength. Even in such a regal photo, he could see her love for him. God, I miss her so much.

Liam diverted his eyes away from the photo to peek over at Bertrand who was standing, slack-jawed, holding the last ballot in his shaky hand. The look of astonishment on the Duke of Ramsford’s face caused Liam’s heart to sink further into his chest.

He knew in that instant he had been betrayed.

“Bertrand?” Maxwell questioned.

Bertrand looked down at his brother to acknowledge him but quickly turned his attention back to the ballot.

“The last vote …” he stammered, “... is nay.”

With those words, Liam felt like a hand had reached around his throat and started to strangle him.

All glares turned to Neville, who played off his innocence. Chaos and disorder took over the room as members of the council shouted their displeasure at him while he maintained his position with a satisfied smile. That smile only fed into Drake’s anger and disdain for him.

“Motherfucker!” Drake jumped up from his chair, climbed across the table, and lunged at the man who once challenged him - and lost - in a duel. Neville’s chair fell backwards with Drake still taking swings at his face, both men falling into heaps on the floor. The King’s Guards were summoned into the room to quell the violent commotion that had ensued.

Liam’s fate had been sealed by one person: his Judas. The man who moments ago looked him straight in the eyes and assured him he would not do what he just did. The chaos in that room, the betrayal, the thought of having to endure another social season so soon after losing his wife was too much.

Completely dazed, he pushed his chair away from the table and silently walked out.

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

Liam returned to his office, a shell of himself, and rifled through weeks of paperwork and memos awaiting his return. He wanted to forget what just took place. here was no way in hell he would remarry, and certainly not right now. He ran a hand down his face and grabbed the first file from a stack in front of him, hopeful that if he immersed himself in work, it would take his mind off everything.

It didn’t.

He thumbed through the file momentarily before tossing it back onto his desk. What Neville did was unconscionable and only served to fester his anger. In 29 days, a new social season would start. A new barrage of women would throw themselves at him. He would be expected to plaster on a smile, dine and dance the night away with them, listen to their breakdown of qualities that made them perfect to become his wife - his queen. He would look around a packed ballroom and be constantly reminded that the love of his life was not in attendance, that she was ruthlessly taken away from him, and he would be expected to carry on as if none of it ever mattered.

That was the life he thought he would have before Riley, but she was a game changer. Before her, Liam was prepared to shoulder the duties and responsibilities of the crown, to give up his life to serve Cordonia.

As he stared at the stockpile of paperwork, he processed what the crown had cost him and realized he no longer wanted that duty. He ran a trembling hand through his hair and contemplated his abdication. He believed it was the only course of action left.

He shook his head as he suddenly became aware of the fact his daughter was now next in line, and that was not something he wanted to burden her with. If he gave up the throne, he could serve as King Regent until her 18th birthday, but he couldn’t put her in that position at such a young life. He wanted her to experience life and be able to make that decision for herself when the time came.

As his heart pounded and his breaths became labored, Liam placed both hands on one end of his desk and clenched his jaw before ferociously sweeping his desk clear of everything upon it.

“We have to get out of here.”

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

Amanda had received a text from Neville following the council meeting that requested she meet with him. After telling one of the maids she had an emergency, she grabbed her purse and phone and left the baby in their care.

Stepping cautiously into a secluded area of the local park, Amanda stretched her neck looking for the man she had met there several times before. The area was surrounded by trees and brush, and it was a place they could discuss their plans without the watchful eye of bystanders or cameras.

Leaning up against a tree, she pulled out her phone to check if he sent another message telling her he was running late. Feeling annoyed by his unusual tardiness and no text, she began absentmindedly pulling pieces of bark from the tree while stewing in her thoughts.

No one knew she was Amalas’ cousin, nor that she was sent there by her to take on the personal assistant job for Riley. Amalas wanted the alliance and marriage pact between her child and that of the then-heavily pregnant Queen of Cordonia. Amanda was to get in her good graces, report updates back to Monterisso, and help influence Riley’s decision to look favorably upon their country.

Liam’s reluctant decision to enter into an alliance with Auvernal changed everything.

A new plan was put in place, one that was never intended to be deadly. Still, Amalas felt it was a small price to pay to get what she wanted. With Riley out of the way, the Black Widow of Monterisso reached out to Neville, whose ruthless reputation was unprecedented. He agreed to host Amanda during a social season he would push for. Amanda would volunteer saying she knew Riley and had been taking care of Ellie since her birth, feeding on Liam’s sympathies and loyalty to his child. If she could marry Liam, she could funnel money, get favor for Monterisso, and force him to break the marriage pact between Bradshaw’s son and Ellie.

The rustling of brush drew Amanda from her thoughts as she looked up to see Neville plowing through, cursing at the tiny branch that smacked his already-battered face.

Amanda scrunched up her face when she took in his black eye and busted lip. “What happened to you?”

Neville pulled out his handkerchief and swiped away the dirt and broken leaves on his brown suede jacket. “Never mind that,” he replied with a growl.

He proceeded to tell her the social season was a go, and that he had already filled a very-pleased Amalas in on the drive over.

“That’s great! So when do we get started?”

Neville dabbed at the sore on his lip and checked his finger to see if there was still blood. Damn that Walker.

“Don’t get too eager just yet, Miss Talbert.”

Amanda furrowed her brow. “Why? Everything is going our way.”

He pulled his handkerchief out again and tried to control the slight bleeding from his lower lip. “Amalas has one more thing she wants you to do before the social season starts. One more thing to ensure her position and standing with Cordonia.”

Amanda averted her eyes from Neville, feeling queasy after he licked the blood from his wound. “What?”

He smiled devilishly. “Kill Princess Eleanor.”

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

Liam stormed out of his office and yelled for Bastien, trailing behind him, to have the jet ready. He returned to his quarters, not questioning or caring why the maid was caring for Ellieat that moment. He had hit rock bottom and reached a level of misery that he could no longer sustain. His behavior was erratic as he entered his bedroom closet, pulling out two suitcases and plopping them down on the bed.

He grabbed handfuls of clothes as he raced back and forth between the closet and the bed to stuff them inside his luggage. There was only one thing left he knew to do, and that was for he and Ellie to get the hell out of Cordonia.

With sweat pooling around his forehead, he grabbed what was needed from the bathroom and tossed everything inside with his clothes.

“I’m coming, Liam!”

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

Amanda whipped her gaze back to Neville, shocked by his statement. “She wants me to kill the princess? Absolutely not!”

Neville laughed with amusement. “Silly girl. You act like you have a choice in the matter. With the princess gone, it breaks the marriage pact with Auvernal. Once you are able to seduce the King and secure the next heir, you will convince him an alliance with Monterisso is in Cordonia’s best interest. Besides, it's not the first time you’ve taken out a member of the royal family … the baby should be a breeze compared to poisoning the queen.”

Amanda turned away from Neville. She had followed her role with precision; she had deceived Riley, and she did murder her. Ellie was different. Despite her evil ways, Amanda did care for the baby, and she hoped to fill the mother role in her life.

Neville placed a commanding hand on her shoulder. “Miss Talbert, are we clear?”

Amanda shook Neville’s hand from her shoulder and turned around to face him. “No,” she answered assertively.

He cocked his head and creased his brows. “Did you just tell me ‘no’? Need I remind you who you are dealing with, and what you have already done for her?”

“I don’t care! Ellie is off limits!”

Amanda quickly brushed past Neville. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She tried to twist and turn out of his tight grasp, but he wouldn’t release her.

“Let me go!”

She was becoming increasingly panicky by the struggle and his menacing laugh. With one swift kick to his groin, Neville let go of her arm and doubled over in pain. “You are dead, bitch!”

Amanda took off through the thick brush while Neville limped steadily behind her. Everything went in slow motion as she swiped away at the sharp thickets covered by thorns and tattered sticks. Her breathing and heartbeat increased with each step, while tiny cuts from the bristles scraped across the palms of her hands.

Just as she was nearing the edge where a clearing to the park was visible, she felt the painful thud to the back of her skull.

Amanda dropped face down on the ground while blood poured like flows of lava from the open wound.

Neville looked around to see if anyone was nearby before dealing a series of continuous blows with a large, broken branch, to the near-lifeless body that lay at his feet.

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

Liam stopped what he was doing when he heard the invisible voice.

“Riley?”

His eyes darted around the room. Hewanted so badly to believe she was speaking to him.

“I’m losing my mind, Ri! I’m losing my mind!” he wailed while clasping fistfuls of his hair.

Liam’s vision blurred, and he literally felt his blood pump through every vein in his body. His legs wobbled, his hands went numb, and a crushing pressure took over his chest. A sudden knock on the bedroom door caused him to wrench.

“Li! It’s Drake. Let me in, buddy.”

Liam focused on the locked door handle that was jerking wildly as his best friend tried to open it. His body began to sway as the room started to circle around him. He stumbled to the side and placed both palms on the bed to catch his balance.

“Go … away ... Drake!” he yelled weakly.

The doorknob continued to twist, the room continued to spin, his vision became spotty and dark. A cold sweat broke out over his body and sent a shiver down his spine.

“Liam! I’m going to break down the goddamn door! Let me in!”

Liam never heard Drake’s threats. That desperate craving for peace he had longed for finally gave in as he collapsed to the floor.

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

Neville arched his back and grunted quietly when he finished his climax. He pulled himself out of the woman he had just beaten, removed the condom, and tossed it away from the scene. 

He grabbed Amanda’s phone, stuffed it into his jacket, and checked around him for any incriminating evidence he might leave behind. Once Neville was sure the area was clear, he eased out of the thickets and made his way down the path that led out of the park. There was still one more thing he needed to do.

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

Bastien was able to break down the bedroom door that Liam had locked.

“Your Majesty!” he shouted and ran to assist his King, who lay on the floor unconscious.

The head guard placed two fingers on Liam’s cold neck and waited impatiently for signs of a pulse. Bastien’s eyes widened in horror and looked to Drake, who hunched beside him. “Call an ambulance, now!”

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

A park ranger was in the middle of chest compressions on Amanda when emergency technicians arrived on the scene. He moved out of the way and watched helplessly as the young woman he found beaten and exposed in the brush received the first of several shocks by a portable AED device. As it scanned for a pulse, another technician worked to control the bleeding that seeped from her head wound.

“We have a pulse! Let’s go!”

Amanda was strapped to a stretcher and rushed to a nearby awaiting ambulance. As the siren blared and monitors were connected to her chest, the woman’s eyes began to flutter open, much to the surprise of those who worked on her.

Confused by her whereabouts and what was happening, she attempted to speak and lift her head that was already restrained to the stretcher.

“Ma’am, don’t try to move.”

“I … I …” she muttered and tried to gasp for air.

A male EMT looked down into her brown eyes and wiped away the blood that had cascaded into them. Another worker placed a nasal cannula into her nostrils in an effort to deliver supplemental oxygen.

“I … need … Liam.” Her voice was weak but came out assertively.

She could feel the tightening of the blood pressure cuff around her arm and winced in pain. There was so much urgency around her and the pain she felt was unbearable, but there was only one thought on her mind.

“Liam!”

As the tip of a sharp needle pierced into the vein of her frail hand, she blinked back tears. She had no idea what had happened nor where she was, but one thing was for certain -- she knew exactly who she was when asked.

“Brooks … Riley Brooks.”

[rogueninja]

Okay so we all know who your top ships are... who are your unpopular ships? Or obscure ships? What characters from what series do you think about often in either good or bad ways? Who is a character that you hate that others love? If you could rewrite a story or part of a book, what would it be and what would you do differently?

Ok I am digging through my brain right now bc if I’m not able to hyperfixate on something then I tend to forget I even liked it. Ok buckle in bc this is gonna be long af. YOU ASKED FOR THIS, REG.

I’m putting a readmore so as not to torture my followers lol

Thinking about Veronica Mars. About Veronica/Logan. Do they have a ship name?? But I love that show and i was THERE for them. They were kind of a surprise ship for me, in that when they got together I was like, wait, WHAT? Like I was totally caught off guard. But there first kiss is, like, sooo romantic to me haha. It’s my fave scene in the show. But Logan is suck a prick sometimes. And they break up like every five minutes. And every season Logan gets accused of murder which of course he ends up not being the murderer. And they get back together eventually and I’m like really? But deep down I am rooting for them lol. I really enjoyed the new season of Veronica Mars that came out last year, actually. The ending made me SO SAD THO.

I also used to watch Supergirl and I thought Kara and Mon-El were adorable. He was very Carswell Thorne-esque, RH, I *think* you would like him. I never watched past season 3(?) though, and he shoots off into space and I never caught up so a few months ago I actually googled what happens and [spoiler] he ends up marrying someone else in the future or something so I was like, ok I’m not investing any more time in this show lol. (Also I had to google Mon-El’s name just now bc i forgot which is a bad look BUT I WAS REALLY RIDE OR DIE FOR THEM FOR A WHILE lol). Also I loved Martian Manhunter in this show, he was my favorite character. But the CGI for him was awful, omg. He had practical makeup at first, they should have just stuck with that.

Speaking of Martian Manhunter, I also used to watch Young Justice and loved Miss Martian/Superboy. Am I basic??? lol oop. But I love basic love stories. Anyway, I thought they were super cute. In season 3 though they’re kind of on the rocks. I haven’t watched season 4. I also loved Artemis/Wally West, but of course that had to end tragically.

Also, let’s talk about Nightcrawler. Allow me to set the scene. Little Kat is 13 and just rediscovered the cartoon she saw a few times as a kid called X-Men: Evolution. And thus, a weird obsession with the German, blue demon boy began. I loved Kurt Wagner. In the cartoon he starts a relationship with Amanda Sefton and I thought they were a-dor-a-ble. She accepted him for who he was, and they had a really nice healthy relationship. A lot of ppl shipped him with Kitty too which i am honestly all for idec I JUST WANT THE BLUE BOI TO BE HAPPY.

Can we talk about A:TLA too??? Like, obviously Zutara, amiright? Power couple. Like, Kataang is.. fine, but its probably my least favorite part about the ending, haha. Also, consider: Tokka. Toph is bae and can get anyone she wants, and she clearly had kind of a crush on Sokka and I think they could have been awesome. It actually kills me that they never say who Lin and Suyin’s father is in LoK. I had a whole theory that it was that kid The Duke from Jet’s band based on like 2 scenes from the series. There’s a tumblr post I made about it somewhere in the ether lol.

I also just remembered Tahnorra (Tahno/Korra) from Legend of Korra. It’s hard for me to explain this one. It’s a weird combination of being hyperfixated on the first season of the show when it came out, and I think I stumbled upon some fic or something???? And I thought Tahno was hot or something??? And FUN FACT, he was voice by Rami Malek BEFORE HE WAS COOL. So like before Rami really got big I knew who he was. He also basically played the Avatar in Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 2 and I thought that connection was hilarious. It was kind of a problematic crack pairing but there was one author in particular whom i follow to this day hoping she’ll update her Tahnorra fics…. *sigh*

Okay one last ship…. I used to be ride or die for Outlaw Queen in Once Upon a Time (aka Regina/Robin Hood). Like, before TLC, I had a personal tumblr renaissance for that ship alone. My only existing published fanfic is for that ship. Taylor Swift’s 1989 came out that year and I related every dang song to that ship. I loved Regina so much and I just wanted her to be happy. That show is a dumpster fire, though, and spat all over my hopes and dreams. *sigh*

Also, lightning round for obscure pairings I ship and/or never talk about:

Frank Castle/Karen Page (The Punisher) ok this one isnt that obscure but I never talk about it… but the pining, oh god the pining

Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth (GoT) THEIR 5 SECONDS TOGETHER ARE THE ONLY WORTHY PART OF SEASON 8. everything after that never happened

I already listed Roy Mustang/Riza Hawkeye (FMAB) as a top pairing previously but I feel the need to mention it again bc it was for real my OG OTP… LIKE U WANNA TALK ABOUT PINING…. *sobs*

Percy/Annabeth (Percy Jackson and the Olympians) This used to be my fave book series and i loved how their relationship developed over the course of the books

Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter) ok can we TALK ABOUT THIS??? They were both badass misfits and they were perfect for each other. But noooo JKR has to announce they marry some nobodies…. this is the only change the last movie did right

Midna/Link (Zelda: Twilight Princess) I honestly have no explanation for this lol

Qui-gon Jinn and Shmi (Star Wars) CAN U IMAGINE if anakin had a proper father figure and didnt have to abandon his mother to slavery

Obi-wan/Satine…. (Star Wars: The clone Wars) we know whats up

OK, to answer some of your other questions: character I hate that others love. HMMMM…….

This one seems too easy/obvious but Professor Snape? Like obviously there’s already a ton of discourse surrounding this but he was gross, mistreated his students for years, committed atrocities, couldn’t get over his high school crush, and we’re supposed to believe he’s a hero in the end and HARRY WOULD NAME HIS SON AFTER HIM….. uh no. “Always” is gross.

I’ve literally been wracking my brain for days and I can’t think of any more characters for this. OK I did some googling and I remembered some LOL.

Ross from friends…. I literally can’t stand him. He’s so entitled and just the worst. He tries to act like he’s the nice, sensitive guy, but really he is so full of himself. Joey on the other hand is portrayed as a womanizer but is actually super sweet and I love him

Archie from Riverdale… I have only seen the first 1.5 seasons ish but he is the worst…. we’re supposed to believe he’s some easygoing musically gifted football player but instead he manages to pull off being bland as heck and actually kind of a terrible garbage person

Nick from chilling adventures of Sabrina. I hate characters that are like hitting on the main character even though she has a bf and are like dark and broody and sexy blah blah blah…. I liked Harvey way better. I never finished season 2 tho

Emma Swan from Once Upon a Time? Idk she was fine she just got old after a while

If you could rewrite a story or part of a book, what would it be and what would you do differently?

HM. First, Harry would name his son Remus Rebeus Potter LOL. Ok but real talk there was a headcanon floating around forever ago that Harry should have become a professor at Hogwarts instead of an auror and I am 100% on board

Ok, ok….. what abouuuttt…… OK, is star wars when Han and Leia get together. I like them as a couple, but the entire first half of the movie Han is being such an ass. And when they kiss the first time, he’s being SOOO creepy. It’s like so quintessentially 80s romance. and HERE’S THE THING. They actually filmed (or maybe just wrote?) a version of that scene that WASNT CREEPY. And i’m like WHY DIDNT YOU USE THAT?!? So I like to pretend that’s the version that actually happened.

This part is way harder than the shipping portion. If I think of anything else i’l dm you. I HOPE YOU ENJOY READING THIS NOVEL LENGTH POST OF ME RAMBLING ABOUT MY FIXATIONS OVER THE LAST 10 YEARS. If anyone actually read this far, you deserve a cup of hot chocolate and a blanket

[twelvedreamsfortheredqueen]

Observations on the Hierarchy Of the Guard of Priwen

The Guard of Priwen largely remains a mystery to us as the player throughout Vampyr. No matter how openly we see them patrol the streets as some form of underground night watch, we only see glimpses of their true, and supposedly resurrected power, let alone witness the history of what they were before the schism from their “cowardly” brothers, the Brotherhood of St. Paul’s Stole. As Lady Ashbury parts with us, the Guard of Priwen is a secret society, one of many in the dreary and eerie vampire underworld.

I have other plans to delve deeper into the militaristic madness that is the Guard of Priwen’s inner workings and possible historical backgrounds, but I first wanted to share this small piece regarding the one detail that is most obvious in the game: the several Mobs we encounter with their logos splattered all across it. Therefore, this will be a shorter analysis solely dedicated to the possible hierarchy within Priwen, combining datamined research, the lore, and some fun historical notes behind each and every rank!

As per usual, this analysis will have spoilers, this time all the way through! All parts of this post will discuss Vampyr’s lore in detail, so please skip if you do not wish to be spoiled! 

Tagging @comfycheesecakes, @orionali, @cursedbethechoice as I imagine some of this may be to each of your interests. 

To preface a starting point point: Usher elaborates on the history of Priwen’s conception when Jonathan speaks to him in the West End inside his crypt: 

Usher also writes of them in the Collectible “Laughing at the Guard”, explaining their origins and beliefs from a historical point. The Collectible helps to detail the inner turmoils that founded the Brotherhood as well as the detailed purpose behind its creation:

Full screenshot

Full screenshot

This gives us a starting point to Priwen’s possible background and development. 1801 places the birth of the Guard of Priwen in the Georgian Era, beginning from 1714 to circa 1830 - 1837. 

You will also see a militant trend following Priwen which is also an obvious fact in game but characters like Archer Woodbead in The Docks or Dorothy Crane in Whitechapel, both in Districts with the highest concentration of Priwen, this is a very visible trend for those around them: 

Dorothy’s exchange occurs if you Spare her as Jonathan, revealing a harrowing fact about Priwen’s encroaching behaviour in their fanatical fear of keeping any sign of vampire activity eradicated. Beforehand, Priwen guards burst in to the Dispensary regardless of your Pillar Choice as Jonathan, with the patients downstairs being shot to death should you check again with Senses. The bodies no longer have visible heartbeats.

When Jonathan begins to gain access to the rich streets of the West End, it, too, struggles to avoid Priwen’s influence with not only their guard presence, but also their criminal presence! 

Inspector Charles Jerome Albright will speak to Jonathan about the recent happenings and murders in London, claiming that there are:

Jonathan has the option to then report a possible suspect, one of these being Geoffrey McCullum, the current leader of Priwen:

If you choose McCullum, Jonathan calls Priwen a group of “vigilantes”; a vigilante is someone, or a group, who attempts to enforce laws (or their ideas of what is law) without the authority to do so.

With this very worrying trend now established, let us fully move onto dissecting Priwen’s inner workings!

GUARD OF PRIWEN

What’s interesting to note is that a lot of the current enemies in GoP have different names depending on where you look—from either the canonical versions in the game themselves, to the game files, or even the concept art. I will be looking at all three sources for any comparisons!

PRIWEN

To begin dissection—I will first begin with the titular names of each organisation for each of their respective sections, beginning with the Guard of Priwen. “Priwen” is a reference to Geoffrey of Monmouth’s (Latin: Galfridus Monemutensis, Galfridus Arturus, Welsh: Gruffudd ap Arthur, Sieffre o Fynwy)  Arthurian legend titled “The History of the Kings of Britain”, or “De gestis Britonum” (On the Deeds of the Britons) or Historia regum Britanniae”, written circa. 1136.“Priwen” is the name of King Arthur’s shield, hence, the Guard of Priwen:

“Without a moment’s delay each man present, inspired by the benediction given by this holy man, rushed to put on his armour and to obey Dubricius’ orders. Arthur himself put on a leather jerkin worthy of so great a king. On his head he put a golden helmet, with a crest carved in the shape of a dragon; and across his shoulders a circular shield called Priwen, on which there was painted a likeness of the Blessed Mary, Mother of God, which forced him to be thinking perpetually of her.” — Legends of Arthur, Richard Barber, 2003.

Arthurian myth utilized in several aspects of Vampyr, with this being one of the more prominent examples. The symbol of Priwen is also referencing this myth, as it resembles a Latin cross with a circle to represent a shield:

LEADER

This is relatively standard, but we do know that the head of the Guard of Priwen is always referred to as “leader”, as the notes done by Geoffrey McCullum and Carl Eldritch thus far are denoted by “leader”; the only exception is reserved for Kendall Stone who is also denoted as “Founder”. “Leader” is rather self-explanatory, as it simply means “someone who leads a group”. Interestingly, it also seems to be used for those who are not the head of Priwen either, as we see in the scouting note during Thelma’s side-quest: a female “team leader” who went by Amanda Tilton. This seems to indicate there is no specific or official title to discern the head of Priwen, perchance making “leader” more of slang or casual terminology that merely stuck through the generations. The below are either written manuscripts by the leaders themselves, or copies from another. 

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Kendall Stone’s denotation and signature:

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Carl Eldritch’s denotation and signature:

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Geoffrey McCullum’s denotation and signature:

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CHAPLAIN/SHEPHERD/PREACHER

(For the purpose of relevancy, I will mostly be focusing on the Chaplain terminology as that is the canonical one we see in-game, but will still be examining the Chaplain’s alternative terms and their origins.)

Chaplains are curious. You do not see them until much later in the game (other than certain exceptions regarding side-quests), there are two versions of them according to the game files, that being the Shepherd_Preacher and the Shepherd_Fanatic, but only one model, the Fanatic, remains in the game. Shepherd_Preacher is the first version of the Chaplain which we see in the E3 2017 Trailer. Their enemy busts are below; the model shown in the game files is only of the Fanatic:

Concept art also reveals them being originally labelled as “Preacher”, with a single exception being that sometimes, the loading screen within the game will use the title:

 Florent Auguy

The word “chaplain” is borrowed from Old French “chapelain”, which in-turn stems from the Medieval-to-late Latin “cappellānus” that also hails from a Medieval Latin to Late Latin word read as “cappella”. Notably, “cappella”  is defined as a chapel or a choir. The story of chaplains themselves hail from a 4th-century practice:

In the 4th century, chaplains (Latin cappellani) were so called because they kept St. Martin’s famous half cape (cappella, diminutive of cappa). This sacred relic gave its name to the tent and later to the simple oratory or chapel where it was preserved. To it were added other relics that were guarded by chaplains appointed by the king during the Merovingian and Carolingian periods, and particularly during the reign of Charlemagne, who appointed clerical ministers (capellani) who lived within the royal palace. In addition to their primary duty of guarding the sacred relics, they also said mass for the king on feast days, worked in conjunction with the royal notaries, and wrote any documents the king required of them. In their duties chaplains thus gradually became more identified with direct service to the monarch as advisers in both ecclesiastical and secular matters.

In modern usage, a chaplain holds a strange position within the religious circle they reside in, most notably because the definition of a “chaplain” is a cleric who is assigned to a secular institution such as a hospital, prison, military forces, universities, and so on. 

n. A member of a religious body (often, but not always, of the clergy) officially assigned to give pastoral care at an institution, group, private chapel, etc. A person without religious affiliation who carries out similar duties in a secular context.

…

Clergy and ministers appointed to a variety of institutions and corporate bodies—such as cemeteries, prisons, hospitals, schools, colleges, universities, embassies, legations, and armed forces—usually are called chaplains.

Often they are considered a religious leader or some form of a figurehead, with some chaplains previously being leaders of a chapel before their assignment to a different institution. Given Priwen’s circumstance of being an underground militia, the usage of the word makes perfect sense as the Chaplains of Priwen seem to hold the same responsibilities of real-life, in this case, military chaplains (as they are called) who serve in the armed forces (the concept of allowing religious figures into battle, to this day, still holds much controversy), or we can at least assume they do some of the following which are: 

A chaplain performs basically the same functions in most armed forces. A chaplain in the U.S. military must furnish or arrange for religious services and ministrations, advise his commander and fellow staff officers on matters pertaining to religion and morality, administer a comprehensive program of religious education, serve as counselor and friend to the personnel of the command, and conduct instruction classes in the moral guidance program of his service.

Beyond that, a “shepherd” has a variety of religious messages but to keep it short: “shepherd” stems from the Middle English word “schepherde” to the Old English “sċēaphierde” which is a mixture of the two words “sċēap” (”sheep”) and “hierde” (”herdsman”). A female version of the word is a “shepherdess”. The word itself has multiple sorts of definitions, with a rather funny one to think about at times:

n. A person who tends sheep, especially a grazing flock. (figuratively) Someone who watches over, looks after, or guides somebody. (figuratively) The pastor of a church; one who guides others in religion. (poetic) A swain (”young man”); a rustic male lover.

A “preacher” is as it sounds: someone who spreads their worldview or philosophy. In this case, it would be perhaps a gospel or a sermon. From the Old French “preecheor” (”prêcheur”), to Latin “praedicator” (”public praiser”, “proclaimer”). A female preacher is known as a “preacheress”.

EXECUTIONER/TRAPPER

Executioners, or Trappers as the concept art referred them as (see above), are the crossbow snipers wearing red, hooded garbs, able to throw gas grenades and flaming bolts, bereft of any melee resistance whatsoever. According to the game files, there are three types of Executioners. Here are the files:

Alongside their respective busts labelled Chemical, Fire, and Wood, their models are instead labelled CrossBow, FireCrossbow, and Sniper:

The word “executioner” is a combination of the words “execution” , which is borrowed from Old French “exécution”  (c. 1360) of the Latin “executio”, an agent noun (a word deriving from another word that denotes an action of some sort), of “exequi” (”to follow out”) which stems from “ex” (out) and “sequor” (”follow”) and of course, “-er”, from Middle English “-er” and “-ere”, as well as Old English “-ere”, and Proto-Germanic “-ārijaz” used as a suffix. “Executioner” is also a fairly self-explanatory definition; it literally means “one who executes”, but to ensure that we are being thorough:

n An official person who carries out the capital punishment of a criminal. (archaic) Executor (one who conducts a task). A hit man, especially being in some organization.

An “executioner” was historically seen as a “hangman” or “headsman”—a reference to the practice of execution via. means of public decapitation. This, alongside the file name of “Sniper”; the fact that the Executioner is only ranged, defined as “hit man, especially being in some organization” and that beheading would often result in instantaneous death, the choice of title is very distinct. Like beheadings, a sniper aims to kill with a single action—an underleveled Jonathan will easily be one-shot by an Executioner from afar, making their name strikingly fitting. The fact that they are a part of Priwen, an “organization” of sorts that specializes in executions of the undead, is simply a fond, bloody coincidence. 

In comparison, a “trapper” is, well, one who “traps” something, often animals for their hides or other precious materials. This may be an insinuation that literal traps of some kind were going to be added to the final product but were inevitably cut out. It does, however, fit Priwen’s perception of vampires—that they are feral animals to entrap and be rid of.

INVESTIGATOR

This will be short, as it is a term used in the game files and concept art for three ranks od Priwen, which happen to be the most squishy of mobs: Priwen Rookies (Rookie), Priwen Cadets (Veteran), and Priwen Gunners (Range).

“Investigator” is also self-explanatory: “one who investigates”, which is to say: 

v. (transitive) To inquire into or study in order to ascertain facts or information.      to investigate the causes of natural phenomena (transitive) To examine, look into, or scrutinize in order to discover something hidden or secret.      to investigate an unsolved murder (intransitive) To conduct an inquiry or examination. 

Said to have derived from the mid-1500s, from Latin “investigator” which hails from “investigare”. Interestingly, we know that female versions of each of these models exist in the game files apart from NPCs, confirmation of a female “leader” as shown above, as well as hearing female voices in the Prologue of Vampyr when Jonathan must escape the mass grave at dawn. Women were shown in the Alpha iterations of the game. Elwood confirms the presence of women in Priwen if you speak to him soon after Edgar’s kidnapping:

The feminine usage of this word is known as “investigatrix”, from Latin “investīgātrix”.

ROOKIE

Rookies are the most numerous types of enemies within the game as well as the first one you encounter within the Prologue. They only use melee weapons and hold resistance to Ranged Attacks. The sheer amount of them you find are most likely a reference to the Guard’s revitalized state in the wake of the Skal Epidemic. Ashbury mentions that Priwen was “almost gone” before Priwen began its new wave of mass recruitments: 

Jonathan will frequently hear references to this mass recruitment when wandering around idle Guards:

“Rookie” is also a rather simple word to dissect: an altering of the word “recruit” and “-ie”. There is also a possibly Dutch origin from the word “broekie”, short for “broekvent”, lit. meaning “a boy still in short trousers”, which explains why “rookie” is often used as a sort teasing term. To be technical:

n. plural “rookies”

An inexperienced recruit, especially in the police or armed forces. A novice.

As the first definition shows, it does have some bearing to Priwen’s overall trend of having a nomenclature relating to militaristic forces.

The Rookie’s respective enemy UI portrait and model:

CADETS/VETERANS

Cadets, or Veterans as the game files name them, are essentially Rookies with guns or flaming torches, only being somewhat tougher than fresh-blooded Rookies. This can be inferred as a progression in rank—a Rookie that’s survived their first couple of nights on patrol. They certainly look more well-garbed, and the term “veteran” also fits with this idea of experience alongside surviving the dreary, vampiric-ridden streets.

The Cadet’s enemy UI and model:

An interesting feature to note at this point about each of Priwen’s enemies is that the majority of them seem to have an undercut. At the time (and even now), undercuts were done on men deployed to the war as the militaristic style of the era—Jonathan and McCullum share ones of their own. This hints to Priwen’s military connections that many NPCs remark on (as shown above) and that some of Priwen’s members do hail from military backgrounds which are demonstrated in their extreme firepower and access to various parts of the city.

“Cadet” stems from French “cadet” from a southwestern French known as Gascon Occitan “capdet”, further back into the Late Latin “capitellum” (”headling”) shortened version of “caput” (”head”), sharing English form by 1634. “Cadet”, unsurprisingly, is also a term with military usage. The female version would be spelt “cadette”. It also holds a definition for “junior”:   

n. plural cadets

A student at a military school who is training to be an officer. (largely historical) A younger or youngest son, who would not inherit as a firstborn son would. (in compounds, chiefly in genealogy) Junior. (See also the heraldic term cadency.)      a cadet branch of the family

“Veteran” is borrowed from Middle French “vétéran”, of Late or Vulgar Latin “veterānus” of the word “vetus” (”old” or “aged”). It is a rather official word referencing one who has served in the military or armed forces, most specific to older soldiers or those who have seen long years of service. While the age of Priwen’s Guards can certainly be up for debate—Cadets, while relatively squishy, seem to be what Rookies advance to should they survive their first nights at the mercy of patrols, facing whatever awaits them during it.

GUNNER

Gunners are another frequent, early mob of Priwen that you encounter. They are about as numerous as Rookies and equal in their frailty, only they seem to be Rookies with more additions to their design and opt to only use Ranged Attacks, much like their fellow Executioners. The portrait shows no difference as it is a reused UI bust, but their outfits differ slightly.

“Gunner” sounds straightforward but does hold a military usage. One can literally define “gunner” as “someone who uses a gun”, but the word itself is a rank used in the British Army Royal Artillery. It is abbreviated as “Gnr”, and is equivalent to the military rank of a “Private”, which makes sense. They hold similar stats to Rookies, Rookies are stated to essentially be new recruits—privates usually act as the lowest, entry-level rank in the military after training has completed, which means that Gunners, too, are on par with Rookies in terms of Priwen’s hierarchy. 

BRAWLER/ENFORCER

Brawlers are quite the mixed bag of things. There are three different variations of them in the game files, are seen relatively early in the game, and serve as the brutish powerhouses Jonathan has to face when running into more of Priwen’s hordes. We seem them with heavy guns, a shield on their left arm, gas, and flames. A wide assortment of anti-vampire materials is cast onto a single kind of member, which proves interesting.  In the game files, they are known as Enforcers with three names: Flamer, Ram, and Shield (”Tank” seems to be used generally amongst all of them for clothing files).

“Brawlers” is defined as “one who brawls”, which is to say: “fight or quarrel”—of Middle English “braule” and “brall” (”brawl, squabble”) of earlier “braulen” and “brallen” (”to clamour, boast, quarrel”). Similar words from Middle High German (”prālen”; “to boast, flaunt”)), Low German (”brallen”; “to brag”), Dutch (”brallen”; “to boast”), and Danish (”bralle”; “chatter, jabber”) have also been considered, whose meanings make sense. Priwen’s guards hold no shortage of leech-related insults, but the Brawlers have quite the large assortment of them out of every other Guard member. A show of their imposing sizes and statures, I would wager. However, their large array of weapons, brute force, and usage of miniature bosses imply that Brawlers are quite high on the ranking list. Chaplains are the only thing larger than them, and it has been established that Chaplains are sort of seen as pious, leading figures. Consider this when taking a look at the game files term for Brawlers: Enforcers.

“Enforcers” is a combination of “enforce” and “-er”, with “enforce” coming from Old French “enforcier”, of the Late Latin “infortiāre”, from “in-” and “fortis” ((physically)“strong”)). I emphasize this word for the Brawler for one definition in particular: 

n.

One who enforces. The member of a group, especially of a gang, charged with keeping dissident members obedient.

Ram is also a reference to a battering ram (and the ability in which they charge at you) used in the British Police Forces. The second definition is specific to a Mob Enforcer. Priwen has access to multiple parts of London, with heavy access to firepower, large numbers, and seemingly free reign once night comes, kept entirely away from law enforcement. This is what discerns Priwen from a gang per say—their power and influence put them upwards to that of a Mob, or a “traditional gang” which is essentially a gang with overarching influence upon a region, to the point that they nearly act as the local law enforcement. Multiple mobs/traditional gangs existed, some of notable fame, throughout the Victorian Era well into the World Wars, many of which centred in the East End much like Priwen is: Peaky Blinders, Birmingham Boys, the “Sabini” gang, Hoxton Gang, The Yiddishers, and several others. 

Brawlers essentially being Mob Enforcers must mean they hold a lot of trust within Priwen to both be given the position of watching the other men, as well as proving they can also follow through with said position. 

With all of what we know of Priwen now defined, here is a chart of what I believe to be the hierarchical structure within the Guard of Priwen from what we have gathered:

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As Ashbury says: like all good societies, Priwen is still very much a secretive one even with such open recruitment. There may be inner workings we are unaware of, and what we have been revealed to may only be scratching the surface of what truly hides within the esoteric, fanatic-hunting organised Mob that Priwen has built itself into. Worse more is the mystery behind their schism with the Brotherhood: a once united group, now a duality that remains incessantly at odds. The way the current Brotherhood organises themselves is much more esoteric and theological than that of militaristic Priwen, a further representation of their dichotomy being at odds.

CREDITS:

None of this data collection would have been possible without the informative help of @wolfsirius and @orionali. Of course, I will never write a post without thanking @cursedbethechoice for their initial, contributive works to the lore of this fandom and for continuing to inspire me throughout. 

The tool I used to view these files was from Gildor’s Umodel Viewer.  

EXTRA COMMENTS:

This essay is exactly 3,724 words long!

It’s been quite a long while since I’ve written anything despite being active on the blog. Nearly a year now! I’m hoping this small introduction allows me to ease my way back to the projects I wanted to share (which are a lot) both here in full, and show peeks of on Twitter! Thank you to those who have continued to follow this blog despite the time gap. I hope to be much more frequent with Lore posts here!

You may notice a tag at the bottom labeled “secret societies series”. That is because I intend to have a small series of analyses dedicated to the three major factions we witness in Vampyr: The Guard of Priwen, The Brotherhood of St. Paul’s Stole, and The Ascalon Club. This will be the catch-all tag for any analyses relating to those topics!  …With a possible mention of the Druid Order (mentioned in the “Blood Goddess Heresy” Collectible). 

Other “series” are still in the works!

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ALL SOURCES/BIBLIOGRAPHY (in no particular order):

Legends of Arthur, Richard Barber, 2003 “GANGS”, Bill Sanders, February 2016 — Oxford University Press Chaplain, ENCYCLOPÆDIA BRITANNICA Oxford English Dictionary Merriam-Webster’s Online Dictionary Wiktionary Online Etymology Dictionary The British Army Website’s British Army Structure London Metropolitan Police’s Article of the Enforcer Wikivisually’s Article on the Enforcer (battering ram) Etymology of “Chaplain” – Traditional & Professional, Rev. Dr. Michael G. Maness, 1998, revised 2015, formerly published as “Meaning of Chaplaincy” The etymology of “rookie” in Wikitionary The etymology of “chaplain” in Wikitionary The etymology of “brawl” in Wikitionary The etymology of “enforce” in Wikitionary Online Etymology’s Dictionary’s Page on “enforce” The Mob Museum in Las Vegas—National Museum of Organized Crime & Law Enforcement Online Etymology’s Dictionary’s Page on “veteran” Online Etymology’s Dictionary’s Page on “shepherd” Online Etymology’s Dictionary’s Page on “preacher” The etymology of “shepherd” in Wikitionary. “investigate” in The Century Dictionary, The Century Co., New York, 1911 “investigate” in Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam, 1913 King Arthur: The Mystery Unravelled By Chris Barber Journey to Avalon: The Final Discovery of King Arthur By Chris Barber, David Pykitt The Welsh Academy Encyclopædia of Wales. John Davies, Nigel Jenkins, Menna Baines and Peredur Lynch (2008) pg. 668

[ficstogo]

Somebody Else Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Go With Your Gut

Summary: Sandra looks back on the beginning of the end.

Word Count: 3,650

Fic Masterlist

“Hey, Harold. Something big came up and I gotta go take care of it. I’ll call you when I get there, or you’ll call me. Whichever.” Shoving her phone back into her pocket, Sandra rushed her and her belongings into her car, preparing to take the long trip to the airport and complete an even longer trip to LS. She was completely livid. The news that Trevor brought had changed her mood from depressed to wanting to blast something in the face with a nailed baseball bat. Thinking back to the phone call the other night only made her fury even more potent than before. Sandra immediately went to find the earliest plane ticket there, buying it as she now had a mission to destroy Michael Townley at all costs. She would have loved it if the night had ended completely different. She would have wanted to keep on the gig of being mad at Trevor and then begin the process of getting to know each other all over again. Just like starting over. Pretend that they were long lost friends of better conditions. Either way, she would’ve continued on with chatting the night away with him with beer and laughter, pretending that he was in the same room as she was.

The night ended much differently though. After getting her things to fit in her suitcase, Sandra called Dr. Harvey about her mother being deathly ill, and having to visit her back home. She brought the rest of the leftover beers from her fridge to her bedroom and drank away. For a small while, the feeling of wanting to cry left her after that phone call. All she felt was anger, but it all came back to her at once when her angry thoughts turned sour once more. These were the circumstances that lead to Trevor calling her. If not this, she more than likely wouldn’t hear from him for another ten years or never at all and it broke her. She really had no friends. She really didn’t mean much to Trevor, except for the fact that she only helped to fuel the idea that he was in the right side of things for once. Sandra enabled that his feelings justified what he wanted to do because another person felt the same. Then thoughts led to her other friend. Her “dead” friend. Why? Why in the hell would he do something so god awful like that? For so long she blamed herself for what happened back at North Yankton. She remembered how nice Michael had been when Trevor freaked on her on not being on that last heist. How nice he was when she snapped at them. Because of that, she hated herself for so long. For letting her anger and pettiness be the reason that she never saw her friends again.

.~.~.~.~.~.

Sandra laid on her worn out couch staring at the ceiling with the television filling in the silence. She was waiting for a call to hear where the next race would take place and when. It was an easy way of making money, although at the moment, she had enough to make life easy for at least four more months, give or take. But that was far from her mind. She needed something to do, something to keep her occupied and racing was a productive way of doing that. Having enough of the noise, she turned off the small, shitty television and continued to lose herself in her thoughts. Although she would have loved to ring up the boys and see if they could go out for a night of drinking, they all had to lay low for another week. By then, Michael would be busy playing house and Trevor would be too busy hanging out with his best friend. A friend that seemed to overshadow her. Sandra didn’t mind Brad, but she couldn’t help but feel that as each day passes, she was slowly losing Trevor to him. He was a handful and she knew it, but Trevor was her mess of a man to deal with since the beginning. As for Michael, he had a family to look after as strange as that sounded. He was no family man, but when the news about Amanda’s pregnancy came out, the idea of abandoning his children was unbearable. He did not want to be like his father and so the decision to stay had stuck.

Thinking about Amanda led a frown to form on Sandra’s face. It was understandable that Amanda wouldn’t want the crew around Michael anymore, she got that. If she had a family, she would try to drop that life as soon as she could, but what grinds her gears was the way Amanda is. She acted so...privileged, so uppity, so above everyone as though she was queen bee. She knew Amanda viewed them as scum level, trailer trash, as though she had the right to say what’s proper living. She was a goddamn stripper-turned-prostitute who had a boob job and suddenly had a god complex. Then again, maybe she always had that. She lived in a trailer too for god sakes! Sandra’s way of making a living wasn’t honest, but she sure as hell was smart enough to avoid selling herself to strange men. That was something she made sure of. She has no right to treat any of them like shit. What was worse was that she always came after Sandra. She only assumed it was to assert her dominance in Michael's life like some small feeble minded animal. Maybe it was because she was one of Michaels female friends that he might have a thing for. As if. Either way, it was a classic girl-on-girl hate game that played on and she really really hated it. Sandra imagined clawing her eyes out and throwing a few punches here and there while saying things to ruin what little self-esteem she had left. The only reason she hadn’t gone full swing was because it was her friend's wife and she did not want to risk that relationship. At this moment, all her relationships were dwindling.

The sudden ring from the coffee table startled her away from her thoughts. Sitting up to see which phone was ringing, she knew it was the small black one informing her that this was a business call that needed to be answered. “Hello?” She said groggily to the other end.

“L’s, tonight, eight a’clock.” And the line went dead. Feeling buzzed from the call, she was happy that there was going to be new work to do.

.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Tying up her long dark hair into a ponytail, Sandra took a look at her bright brown eyes in the rearview mirror. They had bags under them from the lack of sleep the weeks previous provided her. She prepped herself for the excitement that this meeting would bring. She was happy that after this hiatus, she could finally get off her ass and do something to ease the boredom once more. Tugging on her jacket, she exited her car and walked towards the small, mobile trailer. With the light from the trailer blanketing her, she knocked a steady rhythm. Sandra took a look around her as the snow kept falling to make the bare area look like a winter wonderland. The sound of the creaking door in front took her attention as she now laid her eyes on a small, weak-looking man, with the iciest blue eyes she’s seen in her life.

“Glad you could make it.” Lester said as he moved to the side for Sandra to walk through. Peeking his head through the door, he takes a few seconds to look around outside as his paranoid self does whenever guests come over.

“Couldn’t possibly skip out on a chance to win some big bucks.” There in the room stood Michael, focused and out of touch with what was going on at the moment. He was more than likely thinking in great detail of the events that would unfold. Trevor stood with his god awful mullet and stache, having a frown to go with the threatening look that he’s pulling off so well. And then Brad, who sat on one of the small raggedy sofas with a bored look, a look that wasn’t new whenever he attended these meetings.

“So boys, what's the score?” Her voice projected in an amused yet confident tone. They all turned to look after her, happy to get this meeting started.

“North Yankton State Bank.” Michael said with eagerness in his voice.

“You’re serious!?” Sandra chuckled out with a quirked brow as she sat at the small table in the room.

“As serious as I can be. It may not be much but it’ll sure as hell cover us for a good while.”

“No complaints here.”

.~.~.~.~.~.

As Lester finished up with his presentation, there was the question that always came to mind when discussing any heist. “What are the chances we make it out clean?” With her hands clasped on top of the table, her eyes focused on the blueprint in front of her.

“Do you want the answer that feeds into doing this job or do you want my actual god honest opinion?”

“The answer that won’t send me to my grave early.”

Lester looked at each of the thieves with a nervous expression risen on his face and hesitated only for a second to answer. “...I don't think that this job is something you guys can go through.”

“Oh come on Lest! What do you mean we cant? We got the best the of the best here! We're gonna make it through it and we're gonna make it through it rich.” Trevor exclaimed. He wanted so bad to go through with this score and he wanted everyone to be apart of it. He’d cut Lester’s tongue out if this was going to change Sandra’s mind.

“And then we can finally end it here.” Michael calmly said with what sounded as if he let out a welcomed sigh.

“What do you mean “end it”?” Her head slowly turned to Michael as her eyes squinted in skepticism.

“You didn’t tell her?” Lester said in surprise, looking between his companions once more.

“Shut it, mole man!” Trevor yelled, only to see Lester squirm back from his outburst.

“Uh, Me and Trev have been talkin’-”

“We decided to end the partnership after this job. Sorry for you to be the last to know Sandy.” Trevor said as he looked away from her. He knew how much they meant to her because he felt the same with them. It killed him when Michael opened up about how he wanted to leave them and it murdered him when he decided for it. He was going to tell Sandra but for some reason, he always found something to distract him from doing that. He realized now how that could go wrong.

“Wait wait wait wait. I know that this job would cover us for a good while but are you guys seriously deciding on not doing this anymore?” Her dirt eyes looked back and forth between the two as her chest felt constriction.

“You know I got a family S, I can't keep doing this.” Michael said as he looked to the floor, not wanting to look at her. He couldn’t risk their lives because of him. He didn’t want his children to visit him in prison and know their father to be a pitiful loser who couldn’t do any better in providing for them. He didn’t want to be absent in their lives, let alone because he was six feet underground. Michael just couldn’t find himself doing that to them. He wanted to be better. For them.

“And I never said I was done. Me and Brad, we’re gonna go places.”

“Oh really? And where does that leave me, huh? Where am I in all of this? All four of you decided to have this chat and leave me out! Do I really not count in anything?”

“No! Sandy that’s not why-”

“Cut the shit! I noticed how I've been the last in anything nowadays. And you told Lester instead of the person who’s gotten your backs since the start! The person that almost slept her way to make extra cash when we needed it bad! The person who drives your asses out the heat before the cops could get on to us!?”

“San-”

“What’ll screw us over on this?” Sandra said in a firm tone as she turned her attention instantly to Lester.

“Uh, right of course. Our main problem is security and the time frame. I'm afraid that it's too short for any of you to make it to the van on time.” Lester flustered out. Even though Michael gave hints about it being the last job, he honestly thought that Sandra would be the first he talked to about it. They always seemed to be more connected but then again it was hard when all three of them were so close to each other. When Lester met them, it was like high school. The new kid meeting the clique and how it was hard to break through their barrier that they’ve built up together. Although this is all business, he did feel like the outsider with their group. Eventually, he turned to the person they always praised and respect. Well two of the three, he should say.

“Fuck security! They can’t do shit to us! And we’ll be fast! As long as we know the plan like clockwork, we’ll be home free!” Brad said with confidence.

“For once, Brad’s right. We’ll do this and we’ll do this with no repercussions. Sandy, this job will be like any other job we’ve done. There’s no way we can fuck this up!” Michael said. He could see that she wasn’t convinced and he needed her to see it his way. He needed this and he needed her on this job.

Only thoughts battled within her head. It was a good score but the fact that Lester wasn’t a hundred percent behind it like he usually is is what was really breaking the tie on what she should do. “I trust that you guys can’t fuck it up but I trust Lester more on this. You know I don’t go full on without Lester’s approval on it.”

“Oh come on Sandra-D!” There it was. The stupid nickname they used whenever they wanted her to do something that she was stubborn on. How Marty McFly hated being called a chicken, she hated being called Sandra-D. It had the same punch of being called a pussy and it always worked in their favor. She had too much of an ego and pride to back out, but she knew that nickname wouldn’t work this time. “You use to go into jobs head-on before we ever met Lester! Whatever it was, you never hesitated! What happened to the old Sandy!?” Trevor said in a passion with his hands slammed on the table, looking straight at Sandra, a desperate fire burning in his eyes.

“That old Sandy was stupid and almost got herself killed and caught more times than she can count because she thought it was a good idea to listen to you two fuck heads!” She said as she rose herself in the same position as Trevor. “Fuck you guys! I ain’t doing this job!” She yelled as she grabbed her jacket from the back of her seat and headed to the door.

“Are you fucking serious!? Are you fucking with me right now!? This is our last Goddamn heist together and you can’t help but fuck this up for us!? You’re a real bitch, you know that, Sandra!? You can’t even do this one thing for us without that stick up your ass!”

“Trevor!” Michael yelled.

“How about I get that stick that’s in my ass and fucking beat the living shit out of you, you fucking psychotic good for nothing piece of shit!” She yelled stalking towards him as a force that couldn’t be stopped. “If you wanna talk about who fucks up what, let’s talk about your fucking star moments, huh! At least I don’t fucking kill any of the goddamn hostages because they looked at me funny! At least I’m not the one that drives everyone into hiding because the cops are onto us for a fucking murder case! At least I’m not the one who tries to start shit up while we’re trying to lay low!” She continued on at his face. Everytime they were on a job, she always had to worry about him doing just that and it always made her more anxious than what she should be. She already had to worry about making sure she didn’t mess up. She had to make sure that the everything was going to plan. She had to worry about not getting in a wreck whenever they drove off. Sandra did not need that extra weight on her.

As she walked past the men, she felt a grip on her arm like their life depended on it and it did. “Sandra! Wait! We need you. I can’t get another driver as good as you! You’re the only one that I trust on anything and this is big! We’ll be fucked without you.” Michael was pleading with her. There was a desperate look in his eyes and damn, did she nearly gave into it but she needed to show them her ground and she needed to show how true his words were. They would be fucked without her. It was petty but she didn’t give a damn at the moment.

Yanking her arm out of his hand, she looked him straight into his true blue eyes and said, “Good.”

As she walked out the door, all that was left behind was Trevor yelling “I don’t wanna hear you begging for money from us, you hear!? You don’t get any of the damn cut! You don’t deserve shit!”

.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Sandra found herself staring at the ceiling once more as the anger still coursed through her body. This was complete bullshit. The feeling of being left out was just that. A feeling. Then being the last to know of some news that would change her life only made her feel even more distant from them than before. What happened? What suddenly changed their dynamic from sticking together like the family they were to not even speaking to each other like the way they use to, she didn’t know.

The sudden ring from her phone startled her. Rolling her eyes at her jumpy self, she picked it up and answered the call. “Yeah?”

“Hey…” Great. It was this smooth talking bastard calling. Probably to try and convince me into this job.

“What?” Sandra said with her attitude giving a hint about how she was feeling.

“I just called to...I just wanna know if you’re alright. After everything, especially what Trevor said, I just needed to know if you were alright.” That wasn’t what she was expecting.

Taking her anger down a notch she sighed and responded. “Um, yeah. I mean, I’ll be alright. I’m a little pissed but I’ll get over it.” Closing her eyes, Sandra tried to waver off the remainder of her anger so as to continue having a calm conversation with Michael.

“You got every right to be. Look, I wanted to call and say I’m sorry for being an asshole. I should’ve told ya what I was planning and I’m sorry about the shit Trevor said. You know how he can get.”

“Yeah, I know. I wasn’t expecting anything different from him.” She rubbed her forehead as she thought back about earlier in the night. She hated it. Hated how bad it got. “But he’s right. I shouldn’t be such a bitch and back off from what we got planned. It’s our last job and I can-”

“No, don’t worry about what Trevor said. Don’t let him guilt you into doing anything you don’t wanna do.”

“And what do you want me to do?”

“...To be honest, I really want you to be apart of this. It is our last. But we’ve always gone with our gut feelings. Mine’s telling me we can do this, yours is tellin’ you we can’t. It’s better if we went with how we feel. No hesitation.” That thought only made her want to laugh. The last time she went with how she felt things began to feel different between the two of them and when they finally fixed what was bothering them, it only left her a bit hurt.

“I’m sorry Mikey. I just...I can’t shake off this bad feeling I got. We always went with what Lester says and it always saves our skins but I get why you’re doing this. Just be safe.”

“Hey! Don’t worry about nothin’! We got this covered. And forget about what T said. I’ll slip you a couple grand under your door when we get back.” Michael said in a confident yet hushed tone. Probably didn’t want Amanda to overhear him.

“You always spoil me, you know that?” She chuckled. It always felt like playing house with those two. When one said no, the other said yes.

“Anything for you, Sandy.” She could only imagine him winking at her as he said that, like the smooth bastard he is. With their moment of laughing, Sandra’s ears perked at the faint sound of someone calling his name in the background. Of course. Typical. “I gotta go, Sandy. Just wait till I’m knockin’ on your front door. You’d wish you came along.”

“Anything you say, M.” She sarcastically laughed. “Prove me wrong.” and there, she hung up and stared at the ceiling once more but this time with a small smile on her face.

[jamrockshuffles]

Deviated Paths: Jericho part 3

I apologize for this chapter taking so long, it was a surprisingly difficult one for me to write and I had some irl stuff going on this week. I also have the outlines for the rest of the story and unless anything changes it should be 5 chapters. Anyway, here's the chapter, hope you guys like it!

Also, Hank gets his one alotted fuck.

previous: 1 2

The past two weeks had been hard for Connor. He spent most days inside trying to process what happened to him while Hank went to work. Things seemed to be moving on in the world, and going back to an uneasy ‘normal.’ News had slowly stopped covering the Jericho raid when they learned that there wasn’t much to report on. Not much happened, and what information that could be learned was wrapped up in so much red tape that it made their heads spin.

It seemed like Connor’s warning had been helpful. Most of the androids had escaped, Hank told him a few days after the incident. Connor was conflicted about this. He was glad that he could help those who were just trying to survive, but it made him uneasy that Markus was still out there. He knew logically that Markus needed to survive through this, but his emotions dealing with the deviant leader were muddy at best.

Connor didn’t lie to Hank when he said that he understood the basic motives behind Markus’s actions, but it was different looking at it from an outsider’s perspective and living through it.

Connor was watching the news when Hank came in the house. There were heavy footsteps shuffling through the front entry to the living room where Connor was sitting on the couch. Hank looked at the android, noticing that he was still wearing his beanie. Connor had worn it since the first time he woke up on Hank’s couch as a comfort item of sorts. It made it easier to process everything if he wasn’t constantly reminded of his LED. Connor was sure it would be cycling red these days if it was still there.

Hank seemed distressed. Connor wanted to scan him to check, but he picked up that it made Hank uncomfortable when he was scanned randomly. Instead, Connor took the more ‘human’ approach. “How was your day?” Connor asked Hank, as the man sat down on the couch next to Connor. Connor pulled his knees up to his chest and sat his head on top of them.

“Same shit, different day,” Hank sighed. He flipped the tv from the news to a rerun of the previous night’s basketball game. He then turned down the volume and turned to Connor. “The FBI’s on our asses right now about the deviant ‘problem.’ They know just as much as we know right now, and it makes them frustrated.” Connor thought for a moment.

“Hank, why are you still working on the deviant case? You have me here, and I’m deviant, so isn’t it against your best interest to be on the case? You could get in a lot of trouble for housing me from the police.” Hank frowned. “Oh Con, I don’t really want to work the case. It’s just the best way to stay in the loop on developing information though, and I can keep you safer this way,” Hank put his warm hand on Connor’s shoulder, “yeah, I’m a bit worried about them finding out about you being here, but so far nobody’s spotted you and Cyberlife hasn’t contacted the police about your disappearance either. Speaking of Cyberlife, have they tried to contact you at all?”

Connor shook his head no. It confused him that Cyberlife hadn’t tried to get in touch with him for two weeks. Granted, he didn’t want them to but it was weird that they wouldn’t at least try to. Also, nobody had tried to contact him for two weeks. Nobody from Jericho came by, nor did anybody from the police station. It was radio silence. The android was concerned by this, as Cyberlife used to require him to report in every 3 hours and upload the important memories from that time period. The last time he forgot to check in, Amanda had personally visited him in his internal zen garden. That seemed like so long ago, even though it had only been about a month ago. Connor hadn’t been activated that long ago, so he supposed it was a long time ago to him.

“Well, that’s probably better that they don’t try to. I wouldn’t imagine how they would react if they found out that you were a deviant.” It wouldn’t be pretty, that’s for sure. Hank knew that they would want to ‘deactivate’ Connor and probably replace him like they had done previously. Though, this time, they wouldn’t upload his memories most likely. The Connor that he knew, the Connor that he considered a son, would cease to exist. That thought frightened Hank more than he’d like to admit.

Hank seemed to become less stressed with knowing that nobody had tried to contact Connor. Since Connor had come to live with him, Hank had found himself drinking a lot less than he used to. In the past two weeks, he had only drunk a little bit each night to try to stave off withdrawal that he knew would hit if he stopped cold turkey. Connor monitored his drinking though and made sure that he didn’t drink more than one drink a night. It was still rough, but he wanted to be there for Connor in ways that he couldn’t if he was drunk. After grabbing dinner that Connor had made for Hank (the lieutenant wasn’t sure where Connor had learned to cook, as he was pretty sure that Cyberlife hadn’t programmed him to be able to) and his one drink, he settled down on the couch again with Connor. The two men sat in comfortable silence, watching some movie from the early 2000s for the rest of the night.

---

“There is no way in hell that I’m doing that!” Hank yells at Fowler, the man sitting behind his desk with an irritated look on his face.

“You will do this Hank. The FBI is pushing this as a quick solution to the deviancy problem seeing as no other leads have been found, and they have no clue where Markus and the rest of the deviants are.” Fowler glared at the man in front of him. Hank had once been the best detective on the force, but in recent years he was but little of a shell of his previous self. He had tried to understand when Hank’s son had been taken from him, but it had gone on long enough.

“You’re talking about rounding up and killing all of the androids, regardless if they’re deviant or not.” Hank’s hands were balled into fists. He knew the FBI would do anything to track down the deviants and smooth over the public’s fears, but this was talking about the extermination of an entire group of people. It was heinous and inexcusable. They would round them all up, even his own son, and kill them. Government sanctioned murder with the help of the one and only Cyberlife.

“They aren’t people Hank, you can’t kill them. They’re just machines, and this is essentially a recall by Cyberlife. They’ll dismantle the models, figure out what the bug was, and then start production again. The FBI will leave us alone again, and then things will go back to normal once the panic calms down. Cyberlife has issued their recall, and the police will be going house to house to collect any androids that are present. Those are our orders, and you are going to follow them.”

Hank’s heart almost stopped. They’re going door-to-door? He knew that people would just hand over their androids, the panic of deviancy and threat of legal action too great to try to hide them. This also meant that he would be visited as well. Connor wasn’t safe at his house anymore, and like hell, he was going to send him into the hornet's nest of Jericho or let Cyberlife get their hands on him again. Hank had to leave with Connor, and quickly before they blocked off areas to search.

“Fuck your orders,” Hank slammed his badge down on the desk, “and tell Perkins to go shove this up his ass while you’re at it. I’m not helping you hunt them down like feral dogs. I quit.” He promptly turns and walks briskly out of the office and out of the police station. He didn’t have time to deal with their shit, he had to protect his son.

---

Hank had messaged Connor as soon as he got in his car. He didn’t explain much but told the android to start packing essentials only. When Hank pulled into the driveway and went inside, Connor was almost done. He had a go bag packed for Hank that had about a week's worth of clothes, his medication, toiletries, and wallet. He also had a bag packed with some food for Hank, a lighter, and blankets. Connor had also put the bag of dog food near the door and Sumo’s water and food dishes next to it.

“Wow, that’s amazing Connor. That was quick,” Hank marveled. It was only a ten-minute drive from the precinct to his house, but Connor had managed to pack all of this that quickly?

Connor’s cheeks turned a light blue from the praise. “I had predicted that we would need to leave eventually, so I had some of the stuff packed already,” Connor admitted to Hank. It was smart thinking, but Hank felt a bit guilty that Connor had to deal with this on his own. He should have tried to prepare more beforehand, but that was in the past now. What mattered was getting Connor somewhere safe.

“C’ mon, load Sumo’s stuff in the car and get in. I’ll explain what’s going on then.” With that, Connor grabbed Sumo’s stuff and the bag of food. Hank leashed Sumo up, pausing in the kitchen to grab Cole’s picture before heading out. He turned back to look at his house, bidding it and the memories in it a temporary goodbye. He promised that when this was all sorted out, they’d be back.

---

Hank picked an abandoned house on the edge of town. It would be better to leave Detroit altogether, but they weren’t prepared to do that at the moment. So, they would stay there for a few days while Hank and Connor planned what to do next. When Hank had told Connor what was happening with the police, he was distraught. They were planning on killing all of them. Connor moved the stuff inside of the house while Hank hid the car inside of the abandoned garage. It wasn’t the best place to stay, but it was relatively well maintained and Connor only predicted a 3% chance of the house giving out while they were there as long as they stuck to the first floor.

It was nightfall by the time the pair was settled in. Connor had set up a makeshift cot for Hank. He wished that he could make a better bed for him, but it was the best that he could do with what was given to him. They were both sitting on the pallet, Hank eating a can of chicken soup that Connor had warmed up for him. Sumo laid across their feet. It was quiet, the slight draft from the window coming into the living room where they were.

That was until there was a long creak as the front door was opened. “What the hell?” Hank turned to Connor. Connor had made sure to lock the front door. The question of what happened was quickly answered as none other than Markus walked into the living room. Hank jumped to his feet. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

[selfships-in-spanish]

Question, if I may. Where does Gavin and Amanda play into the Mafia AU? And, if I may once more, my I suggest Gavin be the shitty janitor/gym teacher that constantly flirts with Ona. Can't take no for a fucking answer.... But, then Richard and Connor catch him.....

I honestly don’t know what to do about them. I had an initial idea for Amanda to be their foster mother until they were adopted by Hank. She was strict and not very maternal, but she would never harm them.

As for Gavin, I thought about him being that police officer who came to bother Ona for dirty secrets about the brothers, but after @tinmiss1939​‘s idea of that asshole being FBI Agent Perkins, I don’t think I’m gonna go for that.

But Gavin as the gym teacher who can’t take no for an answer and constantly flirts with Ona? Oh my god yes. Just imagine:

“Morning sweetcheeks” greeted Gavin the second Ona came into the teacher’s lounge, winking.

Ona looked at him and rolled her eyes.

“At least learn how to wink, Gavin”

He got up from his seat, feet thumping down hard on the floor. He walked next to her, head a little bit sideways in a way he thought he was alluring, and stopped a little too close for her liking.

“C’mon, you love it” Gavin rested his hip against Ona’s desk, folding his arms in a way he knew that showed off his biceps.

“Quite the contrary” Ona paid no attention to him, grabbing a few things she needed for the first class.

Gavin was not deterred. He kept trying, ignoring Ona’s half-hearted responses. The bell rang once and the teachers went to their respective classrooms, ready to begin another day. Gavin waited until Ona was filing out too, leaning against the door frame with his arm upwards.

“Ona, don’t be so cold, beautiful. What do you say?”

“I say you better get going or you will be late for your own class, Gavin” she went through the gap between the door and Gavin’s side, under his arm, not sparing a glance back. He got a whiff of her perfume. Aaah yes. He couldn’t wait to have her on his bed.

Gavin watched her leave, her skirt moving in perfect harmony with her steps, creating such an alluring sight. Her curls bounced with her, so soft looking. Gavin bit his lip, scratching his nose near his scar. He better took her advice.

But he would not give up, no sir.

This was their everyday, Gavin flirting with her at any given moment and Ona refusing him. Day after day, week after week, month after month. Some of the teachers commented on it, telling him that maybe he should really stop, but he dismissed it saying that she clearly enjoyed the attention. He was met with a few disgusted stares and kept a watchful eye in case he decided to step too far.

But they were glad they didn’t have to intervene. The Anderson boys did and what a better way to permanently dissuade Gavin from trying to get it on with Ona. The Anderson brother’s affair was the juiciest gossip in the teachers lounge, talking and sharing news. It was like their everyday telenovela and they loved it.

So yes, they cheered when the brothers finally put Gavin on his place.

“C’mon Ona. You, me, candle-lit dinner at my place... And we see what happens, hmm?” he had her currently pinned against a wall, so damn cliché, but this way he made sure she wouldn’t try to get away.

Ona was truly panicking inside, clutching the books and folders tight to her chest as if was some shield. A flimsy one. This was the first time he got too far on his insistent flirting. And they were alone. She didn’t want to think about what could happen.

“I said no.”

“You sure, sweetcheeks? I’ve been told I’m an excellent cook”

“Gavin please, stop.” she let out a frightened whimper when he reached a hand to play with one of her curls.

“Although the sweetest dessert will be your--”

“Mr.Reed, I think the lady said no.” a voice all but growled next to them. It was filled with murderous intent. They both turned their heads in the direction of that voice to see the Anderson brothers marching towards them.

They looked furious.

Richard was ready to beat Gavin to a pulp but he doubted Ona would really appreciate that, even thought he wanted to so, so bad. Or maybe cut his finger so he never touched her hair--

Ona’s face was a desperate cry for help.

They were informed by the other teachers that Ona was nowhere to be seen, when she should be back from her last class on the upper floor. That made their heads be filled with dread, since the enemy mob was busy lately and this was a threat they always feared. But then they added that Gavin wasn’t there either and they had a bad feeling about that. Richard sprinted towards the upper floor while Connor thanked them wholeheartedly and joined his brother.

And they found them there, Gavin using his bulkier frame to cage Ona. Pathetic. Ona looked like she was ready to bolt at the first opportunity but she really wouldn’t be able to unless Gavin let her.

“The fuck you care? Can’t you see I’m having a friendly conversation with her.” he let go of her strands, righting his back to appear taller.

“Mr. Reed,” began Connor, venom dripping from every syllable. ”This looks far from friendly. You are forcing yourself on someone who clearly doesn’t want to be near you nor touch you with a stick. We are going to let you have this opportunity to step away and leave her alone. If not, you will be responsible of the consequences.”

“Oh shit, seriously Ona?” Gavin let out an incredulous laugh, ignoring the danger he was putting himself in. “Phck! So this is why you wouldn’t even consider shit about me? Because you were already spreading your legs for the fucking mafia, you greedy whor--”

The creaking sound of bone crushing resonated in the empty hallway, a pained yell following. Ona gasped and jumped aside, stepping away from the curled form of Gavin clutching his broken nose. She never saw Richard so enraged.

“Don’t you dare disrespect Miss Boix, you filthy rat.” spat Connor as he walked beside Ona, gently resting his hand on her shoulder, pulling her to him while Richard grabbed Gavin from the collar of his bloodied shirt, lifting him up on the air like a sack of potatoes. “You are a lousy gym rat who has a power trip whenever the young students look at your body because they are easily impressed, and you feed on your power over them. You are a disgrace.”

Gavin let out gurgled sounds of pain and distress, kicking his legs in an attempt to free himself from Richard’s iron grip.

“I should terminate your pitiful existence right here, right now, scum.” spat Richard, tightening his grip. “she constantly refused your advances, making it very clear she was not interested in your disgusting self. And yet, you still force her, even dare to touch her with your filthy hands--”

He threw Gavin to the floor, delivering a kick to his side. Richard was the embodiment of pure wrath, murder the only thing on his mind. Connor looked at the gruesome show, not batting an eyelid, if so enjoying it a tiny bit. Ona threw the books and folders to the floor and grabbed Richard’s arm, stopping him from delivering another kick.

“That’s enough! Please that’s enough, Richard.” he stopped on his tracks, his heart clenching painfully at Ona’s eyes filled with tears threatening to spill. He stepped aside, leaving Gavin’s body on the floor groaning in pain. Ona tugged Richard away from him.

“Let this be a lesson, Mr.Reed. Should we know you dare to touch Miss Boix again, or someone who refuses your advances, and we will finish what we started. You’re lucky Miss Boix has a kind heart or this would have ended very differently.” Connor picked up Ona’s spilt material, taking it under his arm. He walked next to his brother and his sunshine, glaring down at Gavin. “Understood?”

“Y-yes. Yes.”

“Good.” he nodded at Richard” “Let’s go.”

He gently wrapped his arm around Ona’s waist, tugging her to walk with them to the stairs. Ona spared one last look back to see Gavin spitting blood on the floor and look at them with fear in his eyes.

The hallway was almost empty and Ona made a bee line to the teacher’s bathroom, taking both Connor and Richard with her. She closed the door and locked it, grasping Richard’s hand. He let her guide him to the sink, pouring water over his blood stained hands. Richard let her, enjoying the sensation of her tinier hands on his.

“...Thank you” her voice was barely a whisper. She did feel sorry for Gavin, in a way, but he also had it coming. Was she a bad person for not feeling that sorry for him?

“You should have told us sooner, my love.” replied Richard in a comforting rumble.

Ona paused.

“I thought... I thought he would never take another step. Cross the line. Guess I was wrong” she stopped her task, grasping the edges of the sink, tears falling down and mixing with the water and red-stained soap.

Connor took his place on her other side, kissing the top of her head. Richard finished cleaning his hands, drying them on a paper towel, and turned around to see Connor hugging Ona to his chest, letting her feel secure in his arms. The idea of going upstairs to finish what he started came back with vengeance.

“Let’s get you home, honey” mumbled Connor, feeling Ona nod.

Richard dried her tears and unlocked the door, stepping out. They heard a commotion over the teachers lounge, Gavin stepping out to go to the infirmary. He looked at them and quickly disappeared, not wanting to be near them. Some teachers stuck their head out and saw the three of them outside with Ona’s ear stained face.

“Oh Ona, darling...” Tina came out and took her inside, helping her grab her things. She did not ask, gave her space to get her thoughts in order. But she did feel guilty for not stepping in sooner. “I’m sorry, Ona. I should have told Gavin to--”

“It’s okay.

“No it’s not. We all... allowed him to keep pestering you, thinking he would give up. And he didn’t.” another teacher piped in, crossing his arms.

“Please, don’t beat yourselves over this. It’s okay. I will see you all in the morning, yeah?”

“Sure thing” Tina smiled. “Now go, let your boys take care of you.”

Ona stepped out of the room, heart a little less heavy.

They called Markus to please pick Cole up as they had some pressing business to attend to. They trusted Markus with all their heart. Father would understand.

They spent the entire afternoon at Ona’s flat, pampering her like the goddess she was for them both. Even indulged and ordered pizza for dinner. How could they say no when she used her puppy eyes?

When they went home they made sure to keep an eye on Gavin, should he get any ideas. Luckily for him, he didn’t.

Lesson learned.

[okimargarvez]

SHE IS PERFECT FOR HIM

Original title: Lei è perfetta per lui.

Prompt: Spencer and Lila are getting married; handbook for shippers.

Warning: mention of various kind of TV-series.

Genre: comedy, humor, romantic, friendship.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, O.C.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 33 in Garvez collection.

Legend: 💏😘🎈.

Song mentioned: L’amore e basta, Tiziano Ferro.

GARVEZ STORIES

I mentioned many of my ships from various series: jelinda (Jim Clancy and Melinda Gordon, Ghost whisperer) ; Elliot and JD (Scrubs) ; Ted Mosby and Robin Scherbatsky (How I met your mother); Tate (Caitlin Todd and Anthony Dinozzo, NCIS) ; Jack and Amanda (Diagnosis Murderer) ; Danny Messer and Lindsay Monroe (CSI New York) ; Semir Gerkhan and Andrea Gerkhan (Alarm für Cobra 11 – Die Autobahnpolizei).

This story is dedicated to @thinitta cause it's just one way to say something I think I don't say to her yet: I love you, we are like a sisters even if we live so far... And I love our crazy conversations XD

SHE IS PERFECT FOR HIM

Luke Alvez didn’t know he was so sentimental before he saw Penelope, sitting in the church next to him, crying during a colleague's wedding. Yet, a song doesn’t stop turning in the head, even after, during the reception, especially when, with great joy, he ends up again next to the blonde IT, sitting right in front of him.

I change, perhaps, always nice, no, nice for me, that I see you always nice that I feel like dying. Even if you close the doors in front of me, sometimes, even if I’m alone and far away, sometimes, and when I am in the hotel, I’m less mine and more of the fate, and write it in a terrible letter, but if you carry a cross, don’t keep it in silence in the soul, love, shout it out loud!

He has eyes just for her, the whole table realizes it. He already feels lucky like that, a whole day without unsub to chase, so long time to admire her. But she, as always, ignores him, talks to JJ about the marriage of the latter and a missed one, hers. And while he feels jealousy rise, towards a stranger who has had the ardor of asking Penelope's hand, something falls on his shoulder. He raises his head and understands instantly.

-Well, they say: wet bride is a lucky bride!- someone exclaims, while some women scream, complaining about the hairstyle cost hours and money. Luke has always loved the rain and today his level of worship goes up considerably. The hotel where the reception is held obviously had foreseen this eventuality, in fact the tables are ready inside, in a decidedly less suggestive, but dry environment. Even these with the seats assigned and not exchangeable. He and Penelope, jubilation, end up with a group of strangers, or rather unknown. The bride's friends and bridesmaids.

-Excuse me.- Penelope draws the attention of a waiter. -There must be a mistake. We... I should be with the groom's friends.- the young man looks displeased.

-I'm desolate, miss, but these are the procedures. Take this opportunity to make new friends.- and he goes away. He never thought that Garcia had these problems, indeed, the opposite, but today she seems so lost in her thoughts. In the end she surrenders, sits down next to him and sighs.

-Well, it seems that fate wants to keep us close.- Luke says, not very loud, pouring himself a drink. Then he asks her if she wants the same, and she shrugs, holding out her glass. Their fingers touch each other.

-Yeah, Newbie, I bet you did it raining, on purpose.- he chuckles, glad that she wants to play in this way. It is definitely a beautiful day.

-Yes, uh, it happens that I have a friend in the meteorological institute...- it's not even a complete lie. He approaches slightly, winking at her and the blonde can’t help but smile, shaking her head.

-Hey, it looks like you've impressed someone.- she whispers softly, causing shivers down his back with her hot breath. They look at each other, he with a confused expression. -Do you see that beautiful brunette, on the other side of the table? Since we've arrived, she's just staring you.- Luke raises his head to check and she stops him. -Stupid, she could see you!- their mouths are only a few centimeters apart and for a moment he loses control. Then Penelope lets him go and returns to a normal position.

-Too bad that I prefer blondes.- he comments shamelessly flirtatious.

-Ha ha, very funny. Instead you look exactly the kind of man who likes brunette, Latin, slender, tiny, in short...- she gets stuck, because she ended up on rough terrain. He laughs openly.

-Brunette, Latin...? That is a feminine version of me. So boring.- the waiters pass to collect the dishes with the leftovers of the appetizer. It will be a long day. -No, I repeat, I’m attracted more to blondes. Light hair, fair skin...- he passes the tongue on the lips. -Better yet, if she wears glasses.- he dared too much and in response receives a weak fist on the arm.

-The more time passes and the more you become stupid, Alvez.- but at the same time Penelope keeps an eye on the brunette who keeps looking at them.

-It's the effect you're doing to me.- she seems to be back in time and there's Morgan beside her, not Luke. She misses to flirting with a man, but she doesn’t flirt with him, never, it's too... dangerous. She looks up at the sky. Without stopping to stare her, the man tries to grab the glass, but he clashes right with... that brunette. Penelope doubts that she took the opportunity to find an excuse to start talking. -Oh, sorry .- Luke is forced to turn around.

-Don’t worry, it was my fault, I'm so clumsy...- yes, she's definitely right, the woman did it on purpose. Penelope finds herself annoyed, but believes it is due to her feminine pride. She would never falling in down to impress a man. Luke smiles politely at the chick. -You're a federal, are not you? I think I saw you on TV.- he nods, shrugging his shoulders modestly.

-I could say the same thing. I'm Luke, nice to meet you. And she is Penelope, the best computer technician in the world.- uh, definitely exaggerated. The blonde is stunned by this presentation, especially because the last time he had said to her a compliment like that, it was a mockery. She merely smiles and shakes her hand.

-But sure, you both work for the unit of behavioral analysis with Spencer!- apparently they are more famous than they thought. -And... if I can ask, sorry but I work for a tabloid newspaper... professional deformation... how long have you been together, you two? There would be perfect to write an article on the changes in recent years within the federal regulation against fraternization at work.- Penelope, who was drinking, almost chokes, while a smile on the face of Luke is painted. However, she talks first.

-No, we're not engaged, we're just colleagues. Just colleagues.- any psychologist could tell him that repetition is certainly a sign of nervousness, present when trying to tell a lie. And Garcia has never been good at lying, as far as he knows. In addition, she seems decidedly blushing.

-Ah, weird. I could have sworn that...- even the brunette who, according to Penelope was interested in him, remains confused. Before she can restrain him, Luke decides to say his own.

-Well, it's actually she who thinks so, but I'm not satisfied to be just his "colleague".- he says the last word in a strange way. -And I don’t give up. She's about to go down, I feel it.- the blonde's protest is slowed by the arrival of the first plate. Spencer have been very attentive and warned all staff that she was a vegetarian. What she doesn’t understand is why the waiter served the same dish also to Alvez. He understands where her gaze fell. -I didn’t want you to feel alone...- he whispers softly, and the tone seems very serious. Penelope swallows and chooses to ignore it.

-Wow, guys, you'd be perfect for a TV series. There is so much feeling between you two. One shot and we would already have a million shippers, I'm sure.- the IT decides to change the subject.

-Do you know who is the best ship ever? Melinda and Jim. Ghost whisperer. Fabulous. They have shown that there is no need for the typical tension of the "before they get together" phase to drive fans all over the world crazy. When he dies, he refuses to leave her and enters that body and forgets her, but he is still pushed towards her... and then when he finally remembers... I have consumed a box of tissues, and if I accidentally turn on the TV and there is that scene, it's the same thing, always.- Penelope talks in one of her passionate monologues. He loves to listen to her, because every time he discovers something new that concerns her. In this case, the thought of her that looks at such shows and is moved doesn’t surprise him. He had imagined it exactly like that.

-You are right, it's one of the best ships that exist. Then Jennifer Love Hewitt is a great actress, very beautiful, without falling into the vulgar, intense... however, I'm so stupid, I realized I hadn’t introduce myself yet. I'm Clara, one of the bride's bridesmaids.- Penelope has definitely changed her mind about the brunette and now they're both immersed in sharing ships, one of the quickest methods in the current millennium to make friends instantly. If you share my ship, then I could even fall in love with you.

-And in your opinion? What is the couple that made you suffer more and that was successful?- Luke has been transformed from an object of desire to an uncomfortable third wheel, and is not sure that it displeases him.

-Elliot and JD, definitely.- seeing the confused expression of Penelope, she opens her mouth. -Don’t tell me you never watching Scrubs!- the other hurries to deny. -Oh, you scared me. It was a continuous back and forth, but even when they were separated... it was as if they were together anyway. And in the end, they got married. Better than that, it could not have ended.- both women utter dreamy sighs. -Now it's your turn.- of them three, Luke is the only one who is eating.

-Ok, I'm a bit ashamed, but... Ted and Robin.- no need to specify which series it is, he even understood it. -I think that producers and screenwriters have found a good idea, that of a father who tells his children how he met their mother and ends up putting in everything about the period of his youth... I do it for anything, talk nonsense, I mean, as at this moment.- they laugh in an accomplice way. -But in the meantime they needed something to move it all, and although the ship between Lily and Marshall is great...- spoiler alarm. -...it is still the canonical ship and it needed a more... messed up. But they have definitely exaggerated, creating the story of Ted and Robin. The French horn was the pinnacle, but there is so much to tell you...- Clara nods, but doesn’t seem entirely agree.

-I have a confession to make, that I fear will break your heart.- even if she is a journalist, it could very well be an actress like Lila. She takes Penelope's hand in hers. -I went on the dark side...- the blonde opens her eyes and nods her head. -Yes, I'm sorry... but I prefer Robin and Barney.- it can be true friendship only if you are able to overcome the diversity of opinions on one of your favorite couples. Penelope nods, not letting go.

-Yes, well, I find them nice too. It is difficult to choose, I think the producers have just done a bullshit, with this double possibility. But after all, their goal is only to have ratings, that people look at it so as to continue to obtain financing.- the sad reality behind every alleged work of art. Sad and resigned sighs.

-But let's move on to really important things. Do you love more the couples who are already canon, engaged, married, like Jim and Melinda, or those of which we see the slow development?- oh yes, it is these, the fundamental things of life. But he is curious to discover Penelope's answer.

The woman seems to think about it. -It's a difficult question, I love both possibilities. Perhaps, but... more the second. I believe that, even in real life, the phase in which everything is in the balance, in short, it is clear that two people are going in one direction but there is still uncertainty, every moment is full of possibilities... is the best. Like the moments before the first kiss...- Luke manages to attract his attention brushing her arm. -What's there?- for a thousandth of a second they look into each other's eyes and only they exist, as pure spirit.

-Nothing, I wanted to know if the ladies liked to drink.- he also winks at Clara, who is quick to hand over her glass. Penelope nods her head. But is it just a casual gesture, or should he read more behind it?

-Anyway I agree, those are among the best moments, even if I always find myself shouting at the television as it is possible that someone is so naive as to not understand when the person he is in love with, feels the same.- the blonde doesn’t notices it, but Clara launches a decidedly explicit look at Luke, and certainly not to flirting with him. The man tightens his lips and raises his eyebrows, as if to say that he no longer knows what to do. -And how kind of dynamic? Friends or enemies? Or, let's not forget, there is also the "first in bed and then exchange of names" version. Usually these are the couples that last longer.- she laughs, while Penelope blushes.

-Uh, I'm a bit bad, but I love when the man is clearly the more taken and she, although not fully aware of it, for some reason decides to keep him at a distance and treat him a bit bad... I don’t know, I think it is guilt of my feminism.- Luke chokes with a mouthful and is forced to drink again. He swaps another look with Clara.

-Give me an example.. it is now clear that the journalist has decided to give him a hand, even if she doesn’t know why. Perhaps she got slightly carried way by this story of the ship.

-Well, Kate and Tony. Although there the situation was fairly balanced, but between the two, in the end, he was the more taken. When Kate died, I stopped looking at NCSI.- a thoughtful pause. -Jack and Amanda. Diagnosis Murder. It's an old series, but, hell, I rewatched an episode by mistake last week and... I realized I was shipping them even more than in the past. Unfortunately, between them there was been only a kiss...- Penelope hasn’t quite understood that she is ending in a trap. As the protagonist of any self-respecting fanfiction, she is naive and unaware.

-Yes, I remember, when Jack saves her life, one of many times.- the blonde nods with emphasis. -But don’t you think that their relational dynamics could be described as that between brother and sister? I don’t know about you, but I grew up with two older brothers and they treated me that way, but they weren’t in love with me, I assure you.- Clara has launched the supreme challenge. She has to demonstrate that her ship contains the motivations to become canon.

And the IT certainly doesn’t hold back. She positions herself better on the chair, waits for the waiters to pass with the second plate, and starts to talking, as a lawyer who exposes his plea in court. -I have three brothers, no, it's not their case. These are imperceptible things, because after all it is not a comedy, but an old-fashioned crime, so relationships develop in the margins, as a boundary and are often used to create hilarious situations. But if we go to see the nuances well, Jack is clearly jealous of Amanda, like in that episode with the doctor who finally flirt with her friend in front of her and it turns out that he was also the killer...- Clara nods, looks a second to Luke, almost winks and then returns to focus on Penelope.

-Yes, that Jack is interested in Amanda is also clear to me. But to be together, they must both be involved. And you say that from the way she behaves with him, that is, because she treats him badly, it's clear that Amanda also feels something for him. I say wrong?- well, Phil will not be offended to share the rule of his best man with Clara. If this is successful, it is the least he can do to thank her.

Luke turns directly to look at her, but Penelope doesn’t notice, so taken by the defense of her ship. -No, that's right. Because... after all, to treat badly, to keep at a distance, they are all defense techniques. The same thing happens between Danny and Linsday. At the beginning they can’t stand each other, they have to argue on any occasion, they prick each other and then... they even end up having two children. I think it's the crime couple with the most consistent dynamic, as Andrea and Semir of Cobra 11 Special Team for the action series.- Clara nods, then, after a few seconds, she stands up.

-Sorry, I... I'm going to the toilet for a moment.- she winks at Luke, who returns her.

Penelope turns to him. -Well, I was right. It seems that something is being born on this table. You'll have to thank your meteorologist friend...- the man smiles, but then realizes that she has clearly misunderstood.

-What are you saying?- meanwhile the time continues to flow, inexorable.

-You and Clara! Hey, I saw that you looked at each other all the time. When she comes back, I'll go to the bathroom, so that you can...- he silences her with three moves at the same time. Leaning forward, bring his face close to that of the woman; he puts a finger on her lips; with his other hand he grabs her arm.

-But what…? No, Garcia, you didn’t understand anything. I don’t care Clara, I told you, she's not my type. You see too many TV series and you can’t help shipping, even in the real world.- it sounds a bit too much as a reproach. She looks at the amber fingers around her arm. -Really, don’t you get it, Penelope? Even Clara noticed it, that’s the reason why we looked at each other while you are talking about couples and relationship dynamics and those things. Why can’t you apply the same parameters to yourself?- he lets her go and she starts breathing again. She can’t think, is confused.

-To myself?- she asks, with a little voice as a child.

-Yes, to yourself. Why the way Amanda treats Jack should be symptomatic of her interest, and the same behavior, yours with me, is not it?- again, she's out of breath, swallows, turns her head. Her body implements every possible defense to prevent that thought from making its way into her mind. -Why did you keep me at a distance before you even met me? And you call me Newbie?- too many questions, she feels like she's being accused, on the stand.

-I... you know. I told you, you took Morgan place, who was my best friend. I promised myself that I would hate anyone who replaced Derek, so it has nothing to do with you. You're not special.- she at least manages to convince herself.

-No, it's not just this. You were jealous of Roxy, when you thought she was my girlfriend. And you can’t hate people, Penelope.- damned all the profilers of the universe. -Do you say that you really don’t feel anything for me? That you don’t even like me a little?- he looks straight into her eyes, as he asks her, he doesn’t even know with what courage. Despair, of course. Clara will be take time on purpose to give them time to conclude.

-Uh, Luke...- signs of surrender: she has used his name; dilated pupils. -No, you're not my type. Surely many women think differently, that you're an attractive man, and there's nothing strange, because it's true.- she got messed up by herself. This time nobody will come to the rescue. -I mean, it's an objective fact, like... like... something that I can’t remember of right now.- she blushes to the tips of the ears and he swears that she's also sweating. -But the physical aspect is not enough, you know?- why she persists to treat him as if he were a superficial playboy?

-I know.- he blames the blow well, after all. -I told you, in fact, that as well as blonde, with clear skin, glasses, the girl I like also has a huge heart, is sweet, playful, and an absolute genius?- maybe white wine that Luke is sipping it was been altered by some substance or he doesn’t hold alcohol at all. It is the only explanation.

-Listen, Luke, I also love flirting and play this game, but sometimes less is more.- she makes clear, while in the distance sees Clara come.

-But it was never a game for me.- he tries to take her hand and sees her wavering.

-No?- before he can answer, the brunette sits, apologizing with her eyes.

-I couldn’t really miss the dessert.-

And... and I’m the only one who knows every answer, and I will not change with the passing time, and while I lose myself thinking about just love... and you remember that this is what I’m, and I challenge life always with my head down, because I care about just love... and I’m the only one who knows every memory, and for me you're not the first thing to come along, because for me you're just love... and I’m the only one who know my mistakes, even if there is still a trace left, in front of everyone for you I’m just your love...

 The wedding is over, the couple have flown off for their honeymoon and everyone is slowly moving towards their respective destinations. Penelope doesn’t understand why Luke is still following her. -Hey, Newbie, the party is over, you can stop playing the part of the seducer, now.- if he was another type of man, would take her by the wrist and making her a turn that would catapult her in his arms. But, unfortunately, he is part of those who struggle to expose themselves with gestures of that kind, the opposite of macho.

-Play the part? Do you seriously think that I am like that? No, but you would like it. It would make things easier. But no. I'm the opposite of a seducer, and I'm not ashamed to tell you. I always thought it was better to be alone, don’t bind me, especially while I was at war. I'm not good with women, I don’t go to a romantic date since high school. I'm a complete landslide.- his words had the strength to stop her and force her to turn around. Luke performs in a sad smile.

-Why are you telling me all these things, Luke? Do you want to pity me? Do you need someone to vent your masculine instincts?- damn it, this woman would put a strain on anyone. -Because, I'm sorry, it's a tempting offer, I don’t deny, but...- he reaches her, shaking his head and sighing.

-Fuck, Garcia, do you think I just want to fuck with someone? Getting that would definitely be easier than a hug from you. We've known each other for two years, and the only kind words you've addressed to me have actually been directed to my dog. You don’t want to give me even a miserable chance.- she has never seen him so much altered, not with her, over all. Penelope trembles, but the fear of getting hurt is stronger than everything else.

-Chance for what, make me believe you're crazy in love with me and then make fun of me? You're not the only one who's been dry for quite a while. I'm better alone.- finally the truth. -It's just because I treated you badly, if you're so attached to me, don’t you realize? If only I...- Luke shakes his head and slowly lays his hands on her shoulders, then down the arms.

-No, it's not just for the chase, it's that I'm fine when I'm with you. I can’t hold back the smiles. And I feel like one of the protagonists of your TV series. And if you want to know, we already have a fan club. And a ship name.- Penelope opens her eyes and mouth. -All the team, but not only.- he answers to her mute questions. -People from O'Keef, Phil, even your Morgan. And Clara.- she doesn’t reply anything. -Garvez, the name is Garvez. Garcia and Alvez. It's not bad, what do you think? It’s by JJ.- of whom others, she had been the founding partner of the ship.

To get out of the quagmire, Penelope finds herself saying the first bullshit that goes through her head. -Lila is perfect for Spencer, because she will never ask him to stop loving Maeve.- Luke is so surprised to let her go. The mouth bent in his typical crooked grimace.

-You are right, she is perfect for him because she can understand and make him happy, even if they are completely different or maybe because of this. But what does it really mean what you said? That your first love is dead, or that you will never look at me in the way you look at Morgan?- the woman understands that he has no intention of surrendering. She sighs, bites her lips and returns to look at him.

-Of course, I'll never look at you as Morgan, you're not him. You're another person.- a calm, resigned tone. In the air around them it is possible to see the formation of the written canon in the sky, in cloud’s shape.

-And this is good or bad, for you?- it can’t just be a fixation, it can’t be just for the thrill of hunting, it can’t be just to take her to bed, it can’t be a sophisticated revenge. Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.

-I don't know.- she shrugs and he takes her face in his hands. -I can’t risk, do you understand? Because it was so damn taken for granted that I would have a crush on the new one, everyone was expecting it and I hate the obvious things, I hate them to death...- maybe when the man's soft lips press on hers, she changes her mind. A delicate kiss, trembling, at the same time intense. And in those few minutes a real process takes place in Penelope's mind. The defense attorney is herself, the only one to say no, she's not feeling anything because Luke is indifferent to her. Luke is the lawyer, that is the banality. The witnesses at the stand are all their friends and even some strangers. The jury is the heart of Penelope and the judge, who issues the sentence, the one who has the last word... is her head.

The blonde suddenly pulls off and looks at him. Luke thinks he messed things up, but it would still be worth it. Both the mind and the heart are repeating the same thing: you are perfect for him and he is perfect for you. Nothing else matters.

The bang of the gavel. The verdict is: guilty.

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