#my writing is getting worse by the hour...
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
rafesfawn · 23 hours ago
Text
Tumblr media
🪽🧺 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝜗ৎ⋆。˚ when rafe sees a precious little doll on the side of the road with a broke-down car, how can he resist out of the kindness of his heart offering her a ride? just a ride home, that's all...
or how trailerpark!angel!reader and rafe met!
warnings: use of the nickname pet & little one, reader! is eighteen-nineteen! bit of perv!rafe, barely proofread!
a/n: first time writing a rafe fic/blurb! im so excited, also this is based on this ask and thank you so much for sending something I really appreciated it and I hope u like it mwah! I would say you two meet in like early season 2 (right before the cross storyline) also for the format slight ib to others on here esp @rafesangelita (sorry for the tag!)
this was based off of this ask! which tysm i literally love requests and rafe and trailerpark!angel!reader is my new obsession <3
Tumblr media
a small, meaningless kick was made to the tire while you huffed and groaned, putting two hands over your frustrated features as all you wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.
“piece of shit,” you mumbled under your breath, kicking the tire once more, but immediately a whimper fell from your lips. the pain shot from your toe up to your spine. making you sniffle and tip-toe in pain. in your denim ruffle skirt, white socks, and pink converse, you sat down on the asphalt, on the side of the road, leaning against the side of your broken-down car.
she wasn’t the best car, but she surely got you around most of the time. most of the time. it was a little volkswagen beetle, light pink in color, covered in so many stickers some wondered if it was passing inspection. it wasn't.
sitting with your head against the car for what felt like hours (it was maybe ten minutes), but spending even that on the side of a main road in kildare island was torture. especially with the beating sun late august provided.
rafe was speeding down the road on the way to play golf and get drunk with topper and kelce. “ah shit, i don’t know, man.” he said into his phone, holding it up with one hand; his voice gruff and confident, topper on the other line. “you really think i won’t kick your ass today huh?” a smirk grew on his already smug expression.
letting out a short chuckle at toppers response, nothing anybody ever said meant more than a laugh to him. or that's what it used to be like anyway, his act wasn't together if anything, it was worse than it'd ever been. his father condemning him to disingenuous "discipline" to forget about the possible death of his golden daughter.
"the fuck?" he mutters into the mic, his voice laced with confusion. as he sees up ahead on the road, a pink car broken down, with the most precious thing sitting against it. a pout on the angels soft lips and the most defeated look in her eye. aw, you just fell right into my lap, didn't you? little angel.
your eyes glued on the pavement, your entertainment of watching a little ladybug try to make it to safety in the distance, was shortly interrupted.
a nice black truck coming into view it came to such a short stop it almost took your breath away, the breaks slightly screeching at the haste. a tire replaced the spot the ladybug once was.
you stood brushing the dirt and gravel off the backsides of your pale thighs, left bare by the short fabric of your skirt.
the man stepped out of the truck. he was tall, and the sleeves of his polo looked like they were about to burst at the seams, not able to contain the biceps beneath. his features strong and statue-like, his deep sea eyes hidden behind the curtain bangs that hung over his forehead. a grin that seemed too genuine, too good to be true.
you removed your heart-shaped sunglasses, placing them on top of your head to see him more clearly. your possible savior, but he was anything but.
he stepped a bit closer, seeing the state of her already pretty beaten car, "having some car trouble?" rafe asked as if he wasn't stating the obvious.
you pretended he wasn't either as you nodded, the frown only slight now but still on your lips as your eyes remained looking up into his.
"aw.. poor thing we can't have that, what happened?" his voice, a mockery of sympathy. as he inspected the piece of shit car she loved so much. his care coming from a place of ownership, of burning ache or want.
still, in slight shock, you hadn't answered him, following behind him as he reopened the hood like he owned the car. not even realizing you'd been rude and not replied till he spoke again. "little one, i can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong." a heady mix of gentle and firm that made your mouth go dry and your head dizzy.
"oh- it's been on her last limb for like ever, i guess she finally called it quits... right on my way home." you said with a little sad laugh that rafe wanted to bottle the sound of and listen to on repeat. "and I really need to get home," you added fiddling with your fingers in front of you.
a sweet girl all out of options, rafe was so glad he was here to provide her with his help. "tell you what, I'll take you home and come back and fix this thing up for you, huh?" he offered, there goes his saturday plans he presumed. it'd be worth it. he told himself he'd make it worth it, with those shy eyes and the expression you carried like a lost puppy. you'd owe him he'd make sure to get something in return.
just like he figured, you shook your head. never wanting to accept such a grand favor. "I can't ask you to do that, I mean, I don't even know your name." nerves, curiosity, and a glint of something else tinged in your voice, so many wonders in that head as soon as his truck came to a stop for you. why? the only question running through your mind.
"It's rafe, can I help you out now?" his genuine grin turned almost smug at his own remark, brushing that bangs out his face, the effort pointless as they immediately fell back again.
you paused. picking at the already chipped white nail polish on your sore fingertips, a larger-rougher hand covered your own, stopping your movements with that firm gentleness he carried around her. you looked up at him, he was so much closer. the scent of some cologne that probably could pay your rent, and a tinge of smokey wood filled your senses.
"pet?" he questioned with an expecting tilt of his head, calling you that like it was the most natural thing in the world.
your body and mouth responding before giving another second for your brain or anxiety to think it over, you nodded. "can you please give me a ride home?" you hesitantly asked, it felt weird. getting help, and even asking for it felt foreign, he offered it so graciously like it was nothing.
looking down upon her, his grin turned genuine once again, his eyes seemed almost proud it was a soothing balm to her nervous heart. a rosy hue to her cheeks as his palm covered the side of her neck, making a few pats to the flesh before leading her to his truck.
you'd owe him. something he was sure you were ready for.
Tumblr media
421 notes · View notes
skateordiebitch · 3 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
LOVERS ROCK || D.F. x reader
'but if you're too drunk to drive, and the music is right she might let you stay, but just for the night and if she grabs for your hand, and drags you along she might want a kiss before the end of this song'
summary: dominic gets drunk and admits his feelings.
dominic ur so cute why can't u be real?!!?! lmfao this was cute to write. inspired by 'lovers rock' by TV girl! enjoy enjoy enjoyyy and as always, requests are open!
The music at the party was loud, vibrating through the walls, but you’d lost track of Dominic somewhere between the crowded kitchen and the makeshift dance floor in the living room. 
It wasn’t unusual—Dominic had a knack for disappearing at parties, only to turn up hours later with a grin and a drink he’d inevitably spill while telling some story. 
You weren’t worried; you knew his moves by now. 
So you did your thing, talking with friends and trying not to scan the room too obviously, even if your eyes did keep drifting, waiting for that familiar sight of Dominic’s brown curls or his signature lopsided grin.
But by the end of the night, when people started clearing out, you still hadn’t seen him. 
You finally found him in the corner of the backyard, leaning against a fence, drink in hand, but looking worse for wear. His eyes were a bit glazed, his grin lazy, his words slurring together into a string of nonsense.
“There she is!” he announced, his voice louder than necessary. He pointed at you with a hand that wobbled, as if just lifting his arm had thrown off his entire sense of balance.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Dominic,” you said, “you look like you’re about to collapse.”
“Collapse into your arms, maybe,” he mumbled with a smirk, attempting to push himself off the fence but ending up stumbling. 
You reached out, catching his shoulder before he could tip over, and his weight leaned into you. He was heavy, and you were both laughing at his dramatic tilt forward.
“Alright, you’re done for the night,” you said, supporting him as he struggled to find his footing.
“Are you… driving me home?” he asked, eyes wide, voice hopeful.
“I think I have to. You’re barely standing,” you teased, gently tugging him toward your car.
Once you managed to get him inside, Dominic slouched against the window, letting out a deep, exaggerated sigh. “You’re like… a saint, you know? Like, I owe you. Big time.”
“Just don’t throw up in my car, and we’ll call it even,” you replied, keeping the mood light as you drove through the quiet streets.
During the drive, Dominic hummed along to the soft music on the radio, his eyes closed, his face softer and more vulnerable than you’d ever seen. 
When you got to your place, he practically fell out of the car, so you helped him inside, guiding him to the couch. 
He looked around, slightly dazed, as if he were seeing your place for the first time, even though he’d been here a hundred times before.
“This is cozy,” he murmured, flopping down dramatically, “I really like your apartment.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’ve been in it a million times,” you said, rolling your eyes but unable to hide your smile. “Come on, I’ll grab you some water.”
You went to the kitchen, filling a glass, but when you came back, Dominic’s eyes were on you, intense and a little too earnest, his face open in a way you’d never seen before.
“You know,” he started, his voice softer, words a bit fuzzy, “I really like you, you know that?”
You snorted, figuring he was just drunk and being his usual flirty self. “Sure you do, Dom. You’re just drunk.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head a little too seriously, like he was trying to prove something. “I mean, I actually, really, really like you.”
You paused, unsure of what to say. You’d both always flirted, sure, but it was just part of the friendship, or so you’d thought. But Dominic kept talking, his words spilling out faster, like he’d held them in too long.
“You never even look at me, not the way you look at other guys. I try so hard to be…” he fumbled for the word, his brows knitted together, “like, you know, someone you’d want.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but he kept talking, his voice barely a whisper. Dominic’s face crumpled, his lips twitching as if he was struggling to find the words. 
“And I see you looking at those other guys, you know? All the time. But never at me. I don’t know why, but I… I want that so bad.”
You were stunned, watching him closely as he continued. There was a vulnerability in his expression, a kind of raw honesty that was disarming.
“I don’t know how to show you, and… I don’t know, I want you to look at me like… like I’m the one you’d pick. But, you always look at me like I’m just Dom,” he mumbled, his voice sounding a little heartbroken, “but I want to be more than just Dom.”
Your heart twisted at his words. You’d always known Dominic was the life of the party, the guy who could charm anyone. But hearing him admit this—his unfiltered vulnerability—made your chest tighten.
“Dominic,” you started gently, reaching for his hand, “you’re more than ‘just Dom.’ You’re my best friend.”
He looked down at your hands, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of yours. “But that’s all, right? Just friends,” he muttered, his voice filled with a quiet disappointment. “I wanted more, but I… I don’t know how to tell you.”
You stayed quiet, holding his hand aneeling the weight of his words, realizing for the first time just how much he’d been holding back. After a long pause, he broke the silence, his voice softer.
“I made you a playlist, you know. It’s… it’s dumb, I know, but I made it because every song reminded me of you.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “You made me a playlist?”
“Yeah.” He laughed, his voice soft and a little embarrassed. “Never showed you because… I don’t know. Too much?”
“Can I hear it?”
Dominic looked at you, his eyes lighting up with a spark of hope. “Yeah, yeah! It’s on my phone, but I put it on Spotify. Just look up… I made it private, so you have to search ‘For the Girl I Like.’”
You felt a warmth spread across your face, not entirely sure if this was real or if it was the alcohol talking. But the way Dominic was looking at you, his face open and unguarded, told you that he meant every word.
You grabbed his phone, opened Spotify, and sure enough, there it was: For the Girl I Like. 
You clicked play, and the first song came on, a sweet, slow melody that was soft and full of longing. The song played through the room, filling the air between you with something unspoken, something that had always been there, maybe, but had just gone unnoticed.
Dominic sighed, leaning back on the couch, his eyes closing as the music washed over him. But then, without warning, he opened his eyes and looked at you, a small, soft smile playing on his lips.
“I don’t even know how to talk to you, you know?” he murmured, sounding a little defeated. “I know, you’re like my best friend, but I get so nervous around you, like… like I don’t want to mess it up.”
You reached for his hand, pulling it into your lap, his warmth flooding your skin. 
You wanted to tell him that he’d never messed anything up, that you’d always loved his wild, careless energy. But before you could say anything, he squeezed your hand and continued, his voice hushed and full of feeling.
“I probably sound… insane, right now,” Dominic says, eyes glued to you, “But, I just really needed you to know.”
The honesty in his voice took your breath away, and as the music filled the silence, you felt yourself getting pulled in, the way you always did with him. He looked at you, really looked at you, his eyes soft and a little sad.
And then, before you could stop yourself, you leaned in, closing the space between you. He looked surprised, but only for a second. His eyes fell shut, and then his lips met yours, tentative at first, then warm, then urgent, like he’d been waiting forever for this moment.
The song played on, echoing through the room as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer. You felt the warmth of his hands on your back, the way his fingers gripped you like he was afraid to let go, afraid this was just a dream.
When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, he looked at you, his face soft and open, that familiar grin spreading across his lips.
“I thought you’d never notice me,” he whispered, his voice full of wonder.
You smiled, leaning your forehead against his. “I think I just needed the right playlist.”
He laughed, his eyes shining with relief and something else, something that felt like home. 
You stayed like that, the song playing softly in the background as you held onto each other, finally letting down the walls you hadn’t even realized you’d built.
The morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting a warm glow over your living room. 
You woke up slowly, still wrapped up in the memories of last night—the music, Dominic’s confession, the quiet softness in his eyes. The way he had held you, as if he couldn’t believe you were real. You felt him shift beside you, his arm draped over you from where you’d both ended up dozing off on the couch. 
A groan escaped Dominic as he stirred, rolling over and blinking up at the ceiling, clearly disoriented. 
He rubbed his temples, squinting against the morning light. Then, slowly, he turned his head to see you watching him. A spark of confusion flickered across his face, and then his eyes widened, a rush of realization flooding in.
“Uh… good morning,” you said softly, giving him a tentative smile.
Dominic blinked, propping himself up on his elbow, his voice thick with sleep. “Morning,” he mumbled, looking around the room as if trying to piece together the puzzle of the night before. “Did I… Oh, shit. Am I still at your place?”
“Yeah, you had a bit of a night.” You laughed, but the nervousness in his expression made you stop. His eyes scanned your face as though he was searching for answers. Then, slowly, flashes of the night seemed to come back to him. 
He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.
“So, I didn’t dream all of it, did I?” he asked quietly, a small smile pulling at his lips. “I actually told you... all of that?”
“Yeah, you did,” you replied, your heart thumping. “You told me everything. And then you played that playlist you made.”
He groaned, hiding his face with his hands. “Oh, fuck. I made a total fool of myself, didn’t I?”
“No,” you said quickly, reaching out to move his hands from his face. “Dom, you didn’t. I’m glad you said those things.”
He looked at you, a mix of relief and nervousness in his eyes. “You are?”
You nodded, shifting closer, your hand resting lightly on his arm. “Yeah. You have no idea how much I needed to hear it.”
Dominic chuckled, looking down, a faint blush rising in his cheeks. “Damn, I thought for sure I’d messed everything up. I kept thinking… I’m just Dom, you know? That’s all I’ll ever be to you.”
“You’re more than that, believe me,” you said softly, your hand moving to cup his cheek. “I was just too stubborn to admit it. But you’re more than that. You always have been.”
He exhaled a soft laugh, leaning into your touch, his eyes bright with something almost shy. “I’m kind of a mess, Y/N. I mean, look at last night. Not exactly what you deserve.”
“I don’t care,” you said with a grin, leaning forward until your foreheads were touching. “I want the guy who makes playlists and worries that I don’t see him.”
He laughed, his gaze soft as he took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. “Alright… Yeah, but only if you’re sure you can handle my tragic attempts at romance.”
“Dominic, I think I can handle you,” you teased, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.
He grinned, pulling you closer, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Guess I finally figured out how to talk to you, huh?”
“Yeah,” you murmured, smiling against his lips. “You finally did.”
20 notes · View notes
babymetaldoll · 18 hours ago
Text
Are you mine? - Chapter twelve: "People need to know they are important."
Tumblr media
Summary: Let's add more trauma to the Reid's life. How will they deal with Mr. Scratch and Hotch leaving the team? Plus! Diana's health is getting worse and Spencer has to deal with the guilt of not having a clue how to help her. Word count: 14.210 Warning: Hurt and angst, Criminal Minds spoilers. Sad Spencer, sad reader, sad chapter.   A/N: Yes, this whole fanfiction has been hard to write because to give my babies a happy ending, I have to put them through so much, it's sad and angsty even for me.
Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist
Previous chapter | Next chapter (post date: November 20th)
Tumblr media
(Y/N)’s point of view
In the following months after Morgan’s departure, Spencer kept trying his best to cope with the loss of his best friend. We would often stare at his empty chair in the jet and get lost in his head. Morgan wasn’t far, just a phone call away, and we would try to see him as often as possible. Well, as often as work and our lives let us. Morgan and Savannah were dealing with a newborn, after all. And we kept catching serial killers all over the country.
Meanwhile, I felt the void between JJ and me growing every day. Without Em, it felt like we didn’t share much in common during cases, but work. She would always talk to Spencer. But for some reason or another, we seemed to be falling apart.
The one thing that made me happy those days was planning our trip: Spencer and I were taking Diana and the kids to France for ten days. We needed to get away from work and create some good memories with our family. Spencer told me his mom had always dreamed about making a trip there, and considering she was doing great with her medication, it was the right time to plan a getaway and take a few days off.
Traveling with two kids was as challenging as we imagined. But we made it work. Diana still hated flying, but she hated boats even more. So the thought (most likely the threat) of taking a cruise was enough to help her deal with the nearly eight-hour trip from Washington to the Charles de Gaulle Airport, in Paris.
I lost count of all the museums we visited, and of all the macarons, opera cakes, and pan au chocolate we ate. Spencer had the entire trip scheduled and nearly timed, which didn’t really work with two babies. After only two hours after landing, my dear husband realized all his plans were going down the drain. And yet, he kept his spirits up.
- “The babies are jetlagged, you are jetlagged. Just nap a little!”
- “Ma cherie, we are finally in the right place to call you cherie, I don’t think I can close an eye.”
Spencer was incredibly excited to be in France. We had traveled through Europe for our honeymoon, but we didn’t include France in our itinerary because one day my husband wanted to take his mother.
- “Relax.”- I whispered and kissed his lips sweetly as Raven and Vinny napped on our bed.
On our first day, we visited Le Louvre and between Spencer and Diana, I got a basically private and very exclusive tour of the place, with the history of most pieces. My husband carried Raven most of the time on his shoulders, while Vinny was in his stroller, napping most of the time.
- “I mean, you read about it your entire life, and then suddenly, you are standing right in front of it.”- Diana whispered as we stood in front of The Venus de Milo.
- “Where are her arms?”- Raven asked and turned to me with the most concerned look on her face.
- “Well Birdy, this statue is very old.”- I started explaining- “And when they found her, she had lost her arms already.”
- “So it’s broken.”- she summed up simply.
- “She hasn’t been well preserved, darling.”- Diana added and held her hand as Raven frowned and looked at her grandma.
- “Some of my toys are not well preserved too.”
I had to bite my lips not to start laughing right there.
We visited the Eiffel towel with Diana and the babies, took a million pictures, and had a picnic in a park right in front, with the most amazing view. But by far, one of the most romantic things we did during our trip was having a date there just the two of us. We left the kids with Diana at the hotel and Spencer took me for dinner at a very exclusive restaurant in the Eiffel Towel, called Julio Verne. It felt very appropriate considering how much my husband loves his books.
- “Wow.”- that was the best I could do at the moment, ‘cos I was speechless. It was by far the most expensive place we had ever been at. I felt guilty for even thinking about eating there, I don’t know why. Like I wasn’t worth it or something.
- “Our first time in a Michelin winner restaurant.”- Spencer whispered as we both looked around the room. We sat by the window, with an incredible view of Paris lightened outside.
- “I’m wearing the best dress I’ve got and I still feel underdressed for the occasion.”- my words made my husband chuckle as he shook his head and stared into my eyes.
- “You look lovely, ma cherie.”- Spencer held my hand and kissed my fingers as he kept looking at me. I know I blushed. He could still make me feel nervous when he did those things.
- “Thank you.”- I had to look away because I was feeling like a teenager on her first date. - “So… did you look at the menu?”
- “Yes. Very French.”- he chuckled as I grabbed one menu and stared at it. - “I already booked us the five courses menu for tonight.”- I remember how I stopped breathing when Spencer announced that and the only thing I could ask was:
- “So our kids are not going to college then.”- and he just laughed.
- “Maybe one. I’m rooting for Raven.”
- “Spencer, why are we spending so much money over dinner? I would have been happy with some saint honoré sitting on the grass down there.”
- “Ma cherie, I’ve waited for this date for years. I’ve dreamed of giving you exactly what you deserve. And this is what you deserve, and if I can give you more, I would!”- I opened my mouth to argue, but I couldn’t. Not because I felt like I deserved all that, but because Spencer’s eyes were so honest, so enamored, and so sweet, I just couldn’t argue with him.
- “You deserve the word.”- I managed to answer, feeling tears coming to my eyes as I stared at my husband.
- “You’ve given me the world. You made me a husband. A father. You gave me our babies.”
- “I could give you a hundred more.”- I confessed underneath and he just raised an eyebrow, raising an eyebrow charmingly.
- “Don’t put ideas in my head.”
- “I’m just saying…-” I chuckled and shook my head.- “I just want to make you happy, honey.”
- “Trust me, ma cherie. You are very good at that.”
I wish I could frame that memory and stare at it whenever I feel sad or doubtful of everything. Sometimes I feel I need an anchor to keep me from drifting to dark places. Which I often did. I blame the nature of our jobs, which could show us daily how mean people could be. How much we can hurt each other.
When we came back after our vacations, things at the BAU kept changing nonstop. Luke Alvez joined the team, which was a great addition. We needed help, and he was good at his job. Besides, it added some drama to the team ‘cos, of course, Luke didn’t want to replace Morgan, he had no idea what had happened with our friend, why he had left, and how important he was to us. And yet, Garcia hated him. No. That’s not enough: Garcia loathed the poor guy before he did anything.
Let’s be honest, it was fun. They had a growing sexual tension that entertained us all the way I can only imagine our own slow burn with Spencer entertained the team in the past. And for once, it was fun staring at the whole show from a safe distance.
But. Of course, there was a “but.”
Hotch wasn’t there. They told us he had been called for a special investigation and from one day to the other, he was gone.
The last time we had a case with him was messy. In the worst way possible. It’s always hard for the team when kids are involved, and when one of them dies… let’s say none of us left that case unharmed. We were coming back home from Seattle. It hadn’t been a long case, a spree killer with an assault rifle. We caught him in less than 16 hours. But when we were on our way back home, the plane turned and took us to Los Angeles.
Hoch had been consulting on cases related to missing kids in the area, and the bodies of two children had just appeared in an empty building. There was still no proof, but Hotch had a hunch. And if he trusted it was related, we were not gonna a argue.
I wish I had known that was our last case together. It feels so much personal now that I know what I know. It also makes everything look more clear: life kept throwing us left curves so we could move and leave our work. But we were too blind to see.
Spencer’s point of view
I don’t think I will ever forget the last case we shared with Hotch. God, just thinking about it makes me mad. I am so tired of not getting to say goodbye to people who mean something to me. Of people who changed my life. I could forget about my own father abandoning me and my mother when I was a kid. But not about Gideon turning his back on the team, Alex leaving without even saying goodbye, or Morgan quitting the team. And I don’t think I could ever deal healthily with the whole idea of Hotch leaving the BAU. I could understand why he did it, but at the same time, it hurt me professionally and personally.
It came to a point where I was in deep paranoia everyone I cared for was going to turn their backs on me. My own wife included.
When we reached Los Angeles, me, Alvez, and JJ went straight to the crime scene. We had a suspect, there had been a similar case two years earlier in San Diego. Two kids, same M.O. but their bodies were found months apart. It fitted the profile. At the crime scene, we found the same chains and locks he had used in the previous crime. Same cots, same woods. It was clearly him.
But other than that, we didn’t really have much. (Y/N), Tara, and JJ talked with the family of the victims, trying to gather more info, something that could help us find a path, a pattern, anything. But we were in the dark. Hotch talked with the press, ‘cos we were getting desperate, the fire in the crime scene had destroyed any print or clue we could have gotten. We needed something, and I hate when all the hope we have is based on the unsub committing a crime again. Which he did: after 46 hours, he had caught 16-year-old girl Francesca Morales.
- “We are referring to him as a sadistic pyromaniac, which is a rare and dangerous combination because there's a strong compulsive element to his psychopathy.”- I said as we delivered the profile in front of the police department.
- “It's not just about watching the fires he sets. It's also the mental pain and anguish he inflicts.”- (Y/N) added and turned to Hotch.
- “We believe that he's driving a truck, van, or an RV. He needs space to abduct and transport his victims. We know that he's extremely mobile. We've notified law enforcement in surrounding counties. We just want to make sure he doesn't leave the city limits.”- our unit chief described.
And that was the last time we delivered a profile with Hotch.
Sometimes I hate how good my memory is. It can turn into a curse when I can recall so many details of moments I wish I could forget. But like my wife said on April 16th, 2008: I remember everything.
My wife wasn’t taking the case well at all. As I’ve said several times, whenever there are kids involved, you can’t help but think of your own. Considering this unsub was taking a girl and a boy, it was easy to project our babies in every crime scene and victim we saw. She called her mom at least four times during the afternoon we talked with Mrs. Morales, the kidnapped girl’s mother. JJ was very afflicted as well and came over to talk to me while I made my wife a cup of fresh coffee.
- “How are you holding up?”- she asked and stood next to me as I filled two mugs with coffee.
- “Just tired. You?”
- “Talking with Mrs. Morales gave us some more information about her daughter. Apparently, they were very close, and Francesca was aware she had to take care while alone on the streets. That means if he tried to use a ruse on her, it wouldn't work on her.”
- “So he probably resorted to some kind of blitz attack to get her.”- I thought out loud as I added sugar to my cup. JJ nodded and sighed.
- “It’s the part of our job I hate the most.”
- “It’s always hard when there are kids involved.”- I whispered stirring my coffee.- “Makes you wonder if you are doing enough, or if anything you do is even helping at all.”
Those last words were meant to stay in my mind, but I couldn’t control myself. I was tired, and though we had some clues, I still felt we were going nowhere.
- “What we do makes a difference, Spence.”- JJ placed a hand on mine and smiled.
- “It’s hard to feel that way when your friends keep leaving, and you spend a week away from your kids.”- I just spat the words and my friend stared at me, astonished.
- “Spence, Morgan left for a reason.”
- “I know, and I understand his reasons.”- I shouldn't have said that in front of JJ, I understood that second, she wasn’t going to let my comment go. - “I’m gonna get this to my wife.”
- “Wait, Spence. I know we haven’t talked much lately, things have been crazy at home with Henry and Michael, but… we could have coffee sometime, get to talk.”- JJ stood in front of me with pleading eyes, like she felt sorry for not talking to me. Did she feel I had no one to tell my feelings to? I still wonder if I did right when I shook my head and simply cut her a short smile.
- “Thanks. I know we can talk. I just… things have been crazy back home too, with Raven and Vincent.”
- “You know you can count on me whenever you need anything.”- JJ’s hand caressed my arms and for once, I didn’t really like her touching me. Still, I didn’t say anything. I just nodded and smiled.
- “Thank you. You can count on me too.”
I made my way back to the conference room, where my wife was sitting next to Tara and Hotch. They were going through everything we knew about the case over and over again, in case we had missed anything. I gave her her cup of coffee and watched her smile at me, making me feel things were right for a second.
- “Thank you hon.”- (Y/N) whispered and sipped her mug.
- “Sorry guys, I didn’t know if you had coffee.”- I apologized but Tara just shook her head and smiled.
- “Rossi is getting us some caffeine, he should be on his way back. Thank you, Spencer.”
I nodded and turned to the board in silence. It was hard to focus, but if I wanted to go home soon, I had to find something that could help us catch that killer and bring those kids back home safely as soon as possible.
- “He won't leave the city”- I mumbled staring at the map in front of me
- “You say something?”- Lewis asked me from the table. I kept my eyes on the image in front of me for a second or two, trying to rearrange my thoughts, and then I turned to look at her the second Rossi walked into the room with coffee.
- “I don't think he'll leave the city.”- I explained. - “Look, if you track his activity from the start, his first two victims were found near the Mexican border. But they were discovered 6 months apart and in locations 52 miles apart. Unfortunately, because they were runaways, it's impossible to track when or where they were taken, but his next two victims, Hannah Robertson and Max Wasserman, only lived 14 miles apart, and they were taken within days of each other.”
- “Ok.”- Tara stared at me, waiting for a big revelation, ‘cos so far I was just spitting facts we knew.
- “But he took them both 39 miles all the way here to Los Angeles to finish the job.”- I simply added.
- “We profiled that that could be about availability.”- Rossi commented from the other side of the table.- “A lot of abandoned space here.”
- “And don’t forget about the high police presence around the abduction sites.”- my wife mumbled before taking a long sip of the coffee I made for her.
- “Exactly, it makes sense he'd keep moving to avoid being caught.”- Tara commented as he turned to me and shrugged.
- “But he didn't keep moving, and he didn't go dormant. He stayed right here and accelerated.”- I analyzed and stared at (Y/N), who raised an eyebrow reading my mind.
- “So Los Angeles is where he wants to be.”- she suggested and I nodded, drawing lines on the map.
- “Yes, I think he's been converging on the city.”
- “If that's true, his next victim probably lives in Los Angeles, too.”- Hotch stared at the map, doing his analysis as he dialed the phone and Garcia’s voice filled the whole room.
- “Sir, yes, sir.”
- “Garcia, how many boys live within a 15-mile radius of Francesca Morales?”- Aaron asked her. The answer was impossible.
- “Uh, thousands, Sir, like literally.”
- “All right, narrow your search by hair color. We're only interested in boys with brown hair.”- and we all heard her typing as fast as possible as she hyperventilated.
- “Right. Uh, this is gonna take me a while because kids that age don't usually have photo IDs. They have passports, maybe, but it's all about the parents' social media. I'm gonna handle this. I'll hit you back when I have something.”
- “All right, thanks.”- Hotch hung up and (Y/N) looked at him shaking her head.
- “You love pushing her to the limits, don’t you?”
- “I never ask something unless I know you all can answer.”- Hotch replied and my wife just nodded. And suddenly, something hit her ‘cos she wide opened her eyes and turned to me.
- “Ok, call me crazy ‘cos I might be projecting our babies in this whole case, but Francesca Morales has a brother that age. If the unsub is converging, he could be a target.”
- “Yeah, but Hannah Robertson had an 11-year-old brother and a 9-year-old brother, and Max Wasserman has a 15-year-old sister.”- Tara argued but my wife insisted.
- “I mean he is not just after an older girl and a younger boy…”
- “It’s older sister, younger brother.”- I finished my wife’s sentence and she nodded. Now I was projecting our babies in the case as well. And it made it a thousand times worse.
- “We should bring in this Morales kid just to be safe.”- Rossi suggested. But we were too late. The unsub already had that poor kid. When JJ and Alvez got there, Berto had been taken and Mrs. Morales was unconscious. They called an ambulance and then drove back to the station.
An hour late, we had a suspect: John David Bates. He was from Nevada, currently living in Los Angeles. He had tried to burn the family house with his sister in it twice before his parents relinquished his custody and he ended up in a foster home.
This kill was his endgame. He wanted to kill an older sister with her little brother. Hotch didn’t let me or my wife on the field that night. I think he knew it had gotten too personal for us. But he failed to notice how personal it had turned for JJ as well. She ended up hurt that night, and Francesca sadly died. Only her brother Berto was saved from the fire the unsub had created.
It felt wrong. Like nothing we did was ever enough. We tried our best and yet failed. I refused to even talk about it. I just wanted to be home, at peace, with my babies and my wife, in our own bubble.
On the plane back, I made (Y/N) a cup of tea and covered her with a blanket. She cut me a short smile and rested her head on my shoulder, snuggling closer. A few minutes later, not even half into her cup of tea, she was sound asleep. Hotch looked at us from his seat and the ghost of a smile hunted his face for a fragment of a second. I caught him staring at us when I looked at him from my book and felt my lips twitch into a shy grin.
- “Years might pass, but I will always feel happy to watch you two so in love.”- he murmured from his chair and sipped his whiskey.
- “We would have never gotten here if it wasn’t for you.”
- “I would disagree, but at your pace, you would still be considering confessing your feelings to her.”- Hotch grinned and I nodded.
- “You are right about that. So thank you for pushing us to deal with our feelings.”
- “I regret many decisions from the last ten years. That will never be on that list.”-Aaron assured me and I knew he meant it.
That will always be the last conversation we shared. After that day, I never saw him again.
How can you not resent your work when people you consider your own family disappear from your life like that? At first, they told us he was on a special mission, but after a month or so, the truth was out: he was in the witness protection program after he discovered Mr. Scratch was stalking his son Jack.
Of course, I understand the deep anger and desperation you feel when you even just imagine something - anything bad - happening to your kids. That means I can’t really blame Hotch for leaving. I don’t. I could never. But if you ask me, I blame our work. The nature of what we do. Serial killer, the constant danger.
There was a time when the mere thought of leaving the BAU seemed impossible. But at that time, it started looking real.
But before we could even start thinking about leaving, we had to catch Mr. Scratch.
Right. We haven’t talked in deep of Mr. Scratch just yet. Let me give you the facts: I hate that mother fucker. He has been one of the few unsubs that has gotten under my skin. One of the few I would have killed before even trying to question. Before we knew Hotch was gone for real, Prentiss came back for a few weeks, to cover for him. That was great, and fun and a nice change from missing Emily. Having her around made the transition a little more bearable, I think.
We first met Mr. Scratch back when Kate was still in the BAU over a year earlier. He was drugging people and turning them into murderers. Why? ‘Cos back in the days, one of them had pointed out his father as a pedophile while he was a kid and his parents ran a foster home in Florida, which led to the death of his father in the hands of other prisoners while he was doing his time.
We managed to catch the guy that one time. He tried to get into Hotch’s head, drugged him, and even persuaded him to kill us. I guess that’s why he got obsessed with Aaron. He couldn’t crack his head and make a puppet out of him. So he plotted his revenge.
Right before we went to Paris, Hotch was ambushed and accused of plotting an attack against the BAU. Crazy? Yes. The fact the Department of Justice actually believed the accusations were true made it even worse. And considering Jack, his son, had to witness the moment a SWAT team stormed into their apartment to get him… honestly, why were we still with the FBI?
Scratch’s revenge was a long shot. He helped an anarchist plan a prison break and used an unsub autistic son to frame our Unit Chief. The result was multiple serial killers on the loose. Including Mr. Scratch himself.
Eventually, National Security realized they were being played and released Hotch. I will never forget that case ‘cos - a side from the eidetic memory issue - it all happened less than two months after Vincent was born, and it was one of the first cases I was back for. It was local, and for a split of a second, while I was in that prison, in the middle of a shooting, I thought that was it. That my kids would have to grow up without their father. That I was never gonna leave that place alive. It wasn’t any better when a helicopter exploded right in front of us.
Sure, Rossi planned a nice dinner afterward, and we all got to share a beautiful evening together with the kids, and our loved ones. But… we weren’t even done eating when Hotch’s cell phone rang. Thirteen serial killers, along with Mr. Scratch were on the loose. Years of work, wasted.
- “Why do we even bother?”- (Y/N) asked crossing her arms on her chest as we all stood in Rossi’s library, trying to understand what was happening. - “We fight serial killers, we hunt them down, and mother fuckers get on the loose again! No one will ever actually be safe.”
Back then I told her it was our work to make sure those killers wouldn’t hurt anyone else. But now, I know it was our job. Now we have a bigger task. We have to find our own happiness.
(Y/N)’s point of view
The first few weeks after Prentiss came back were fun. Well, as fun as our job can be. She brought donuts for breakfast and tried to make Luke feel more welcome (making it awkward in the process, as it should be, considering he was, as Garcia liked to call him: the newbie). She also organized a few ladies' nights out to catch up. Maybe she realized JJ and I were not as close as we used to be. Or maybe she was just trying to make up for all the time she had spent away.
Meanwhile, at home, Spencer had been obsessing with getting his mother into a groundbreaking study that, according to all the investigation and papers he had read, could in fact reverse the effects of Alzheimer's.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was too good to be true, and I knew it was something Spencer needed to do for his mother. Diana had been ok, she was incredibly present and healthy during our trip. If we didn’t know she had schizophrenia and Alzheimer's, she would have passed by a very volatile and fun grandmother. She had fully embraced her new title of grandma, or Memaw, as she likes to be called. Memaw read to Raven for hours, all of their favorite stories. And she held baby Vincet and hummed sweet lullabies for him, filling our hearts with love every time we were together.
But Spencer was afraid. He didn’t want to lose his mother and with every passing day, a little piece of her disappeared. So of course I supported him through the entire application process and hoped for the best.
- “It’s been three weeks, they should know by now.”- Spencer whispered in the middle of the dark. We were cuddled on our bed, our kids sound asleep on the very same bed, after feeding Vincent and calming Raven from a bad dream.
- “These things take time, hun. You know it. They told you it could take from three to five weeks.”- I replied and caressed his arm slowly, feeling him roll on the bed, Raven sleeping in between us. I looked at him and cut him a short smile in the dark.
- “I know. It’s just… I’m anxious, I need this to work.”
- “It will work. No matter what, we are never going to stop trying to help your mom feel better. You know that, right?”- I heard him sigh and then, Spencer got quiet. I didn’t want to continue talking, afraid I could push him too hard. I knew Diana was a sensitive subject for Spencer, and no matter how long we had been together, I still felt around eggshells when it came to her health.
- “Thank you, chipmunk.”- that was all Spencer whispered after a few seconds, and held my hand in the dark.
That’s why I understood exactly why he was so excited when he finally got the call from the director of the assisted care home Diana lived at back in Las Vegas. She was in. I was at my desk in the bullpen, trying to finish some of the paperwork I had behind when I saw him spinning on his chair. That could only mean something good had happened.
- “She’s in! She is in!”- Spencer ran to me and lifted me from my chair, nearly jumping.
- “Wh…”- but before I could even ask, Rossi stood next to us, raising an eyebrow.
- “Am I interrupting a private moment?”- and after a short pause, David wide opened his eyes. - “You are not pregnant again, are you?”
- “Wh.. no!”- I chuckled as I replied, thinking it was fun that was the very first thing that came to Rossi’s mind.
- “I was just talking with the director of the assisted care home where my mother lives.”- Spencer explained, still smiling- “We kept quiet because we didn't want to jinx it, but there's a groundbreaking clinical study on Alzheimer's at Johns Hopkins next month, and I just found out that my mom's gonna be one of the participants. She got in.”
Rossi smiled and hugged my husband, tapping his back a few times.
- “That's great news, Spencer.”
- “It's huge. The program's called metabolic enhancement for neuro-degeneration, and results from earlier tests are hopeful, not just to slow the disease but to actually reverse it!”- after that sentence, Spencer actually started jumping, making me and Rossi chuckle at the sight. The last time I saw Spencer that happy had been the day we discovered we were having Vinny.
- “Ok, it's customary that the lottery winner shares that mega-payout with the rest of the office.”- Garcia said, walking toward us, surprised by my husband’s excitement.
- “Well, Reid's news is even better than that.”- Rossi explained, but we didn’t have time to tell her the whole story: we had a case.
- “Told you things were gonna work out”- I whispered as I kissed my husband’s hand, walking hand in hand to the briefing room. And the way he smiled at me, so full of excitement and hope, I can’t believe all the shit that came next.
As far as we knew, Hotch was still on TDY, but available for consultation in case we needed him. Which sadly we didn’t. Maybe that was the sign he needed to simply let go: the team was going to be ok without him. Work would get done, even if he wasn’t there to supervise it. I need to write that down and repeat it as a mantra.
My husband’s excitement lasted exactly six and a half hours. That very same afternoon, while we were in the middle of the investigation on the Appalachian trail, not really far from Quantico. We were outside the abduction site of the latest victim of our unsub. Spencer had commented last case we had there was the time I had gotten lost in the woods, six years ago, and that had been the reason behind my nickname: “Chipmunk.” He was happy, you could tell, even when we were trying to catch a serial killer, my husband was excited.
That, until he got a phone call.
- “The victim's name is Howard Walker.”- JJ announced as she walked from the convenience store the victim had seen last. - “He was picking up pizza and beer for the family dinner.”
- “We're a half mile or more from where Lewis and Alvez apprehended the unsub.”- Spencer commented as I took a look around, trying to picture the whole scene happening in front of me. What weren’t we seeing?
- “The guy must have needed a car or a truck if he was moving the victim away from here. I don’t think Todd has the skills to drive.”- I said and Spencer nodded. But he didn’t say anything ‘cos he got a call and without saying another word, he walked away from us to pick up.
I stared at him and noticed his face changing as Rossi and JJ kept talking about the case. They had lost my entire concentration, I knew there was something wrong by the way Spencer started pacing as he talked.
- “Lab results.”- Rossi announced as he took a look at his phone. He touched my shoulder and forced me to focus on work again.- “DNA in that muzzle we found matches one of the original five victims.”
- “That means the unsub is probably making them wear it for his fantasies.”- I said as Rossi nodded.
- “Dehumanize them.”- he added - “It's easier to kill an animal than a human.”
Spencer ended his call and turned to look at us. He seemed defeated and shocked. I took a few steps closer to him and rubbed his arm carefully. But before I could actually ask my husband what was happening, I heard JJ’s voice.
- “Everything ok, Spence?”- I couldn’t control my own face as I deadpanned her.
- “Yeah…”- he nodded and sighed. Of course, he was lying.
- “What is it?”- I whispered and held his hand.
- “That was the Las Vegas police. I guess they found my mom wandering around a casino near her living facility. She didn't know who she was or how she got there.”
- “How is she?”- I asked right away
- “She is ok. They put her on the phone. She sounded normal, just obviously embarrassed, you know, by all the fuss.”
- “You have to go be with her.”- the words left my lips before I even processed it.
- “I can't do that. We're right in the middle… and the kids are at home. I can’t leave you alone now.”
- “Investigation will be fine.”- Rossi explained to him right away.
- “And I will manage. I can ask Mom for help. Or Frank, or Mikey, or Garcia.”
- “I just… can’t…”- Spencer looked at me and I could see the struggle within him.
- “We'll be fine here. We’ll help with the kids.”- Rossi assured him and I nodded, still holding onto his hand.
- “Your mom is a priority.”- JJ added and I looked at Spencer with a short smile.
- “Go, honey. Please.”
- “Are you sure?”- he whispered and caressed my cheek sweetly. I nodded one more time and let go of his hand.
- “I am sure, you have to do it.”
- “Ok. I'm gonna go to the M.E.'s office and grab something for Prentiss, but I'll leave first thing in the morning and spend a day or two. No more than that.”
- “Take all the time you need.”- Rossi said as my husband waved and walked to the SUV.- “Aren’t you going with him?”- David asked and turned to me. - “Come on! Like I’m the one who is tearing you two apart.”
- “Thank you.”- I whispered and hurried to catch my husband before he got to the car.
Things didn’t get better for him, though. And that very same day, later in the afternoon, Spencer got another phone call. We were ready to go, mom had called to tell me she had taken the babies to our apartment so Spencer got to spend extra time with them before his trip. He had tickets to Las Vegas at 7am, and I knew he didn’t really want to go, but he had to.
- “Yes, this is him”- Spencer said as he picked up the phone on his desk and stayed sat, staring blankly in front of him.
- “What are you still doing here?”- Rossi asked and stood next to me as I stared at Spencer, still on the phone. One more time, it was clear he wasn’t getting good news. - “I thought you were home, packing a bag.”
- “We are almost out”- I said and Spencer hung up.- “What happened?”
- “That was the director of the Johns Hopkins clinical trial. Turns out my mom wasn't chosen.”
- “What? Why? What happened?”- I moved closer to him and rested my hands on his shoulders as he just sat there, in shock.
- “Budget restraints. The study had to randomly reduce the number of participants and my mom's name was drawn.”
- “I’m so sorry honey”- he just shook his head and sighed, defeated.
- “Well, you can still go to Vegas.”- Rossi suggested and I agreed with him.
- “That’s true. Your mom still had that episode this morning, and I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you.”
- “No. It's important that I stay here and try and find something else.”- Spencer shook his head and turned to me and Rossi, giving all the explanations he thought we needed. - “There's a study coming up with Paul Stanfield at the Anderson Clinic in Houston...
- “Hon… no. She needs you now.”
- “I have to find another way to help her.”- my husband was determined, and I knew it was going to be hard to change his mind.
- “Spencer, I understand you want to help. But don't lose sight of the bigger picture.”- Rossi sat on Reid’s desk as he spoke and my husband looked at him, lost in the conversation.
- “What do you mean?”
- “You have a finite amount of time left with your mother. I know it's a hard thing to say, but I speak from experience. Don't squander the time you have left by being overly focused on fixes.”
That was exactly what I wanted to tell him, but never found the right words. I loved Rossi that minute.
- “But I want her to get better.”- Spencer argued, probably not getting the real concept of “limited time.” He knew his mom was losing her mind every day a little more, but he still thought he had more time than he actually had to help her.
- “Then get on that phone. Buy your ticket to Las Vegas. Being with you, seeing you, hearing your voice, that's the best medicine you could give your mother. That you can give each other.”
- “Papa pasta is right, hon. Your mom needs her son more than anything right now. That’s all that matters right now.”
Spencer nodded and stayed in silence, probably trying to process everything that had just happened. Rossi hugged him as we all stood up and walked out of the bullpen. My husband didn’t want to talk much on the drive back home, and I didn’t push him. I knew he was miserable.
- “Daddy!!!””- Raven ran to his arms as soon as we opened the front door and my mom stared at us from the kitchen, holding baby Vinny in her arms.
- “Someone was eager to see you two.”- she said with a warm smile.
- “We were eager to see you too, birdy. How was your day? Hey Sofia!”- Spencer kissed our daughter’s cheeks many times as he held her in his arms and she started telling him every single detail of her day. I was glad to stare at that scene because it put a smile on Spencer’s face and that was enough to make me feel happy.
- “Today the teacher read us a story, but you had read it to me already, but everybody liked it, so I told them there was a second part, and the teacher said she was gonna read that tomorrow.”- Raven kept rambling as I walked toward mom and held baby Vinny.
- “Thank you for picking them up from daycare”
- “Anytime you need, peanut. Vinny already ate, but Raven wanted to have dinner with you two.”
- “And then my friend said I had to jump, and I did, and they said I had to do it again…”- Raven was on fire talking with Spencer, so I walked to the kitchen with my mom and whispered.
- “Diana didn’t make it to the study after all.”
- “What? Why?”
- “They cut the budget and Diana didn’t make the cut.”
- “That’s so bad, how is he?”
- “I don’t think he wants to go anymore.”- I whispered and turned to look at Spencer laughing at something Raven had told him.
- “Why not? His mother needs him.”
- “That’s what I told him, Mom. But it’s still hard for him to face her episodes and the fact she is forgetting so much. One thing is schizophrenia, another thing is dementia, and I don’t think he can handle both their effects on his mother.”
- “Poor thing.”- my mom whispered and sighed. - “It’s so sad what’s happening to Diana. She is such a nice and sweet woman.”
- “I know… Spencer doesn’t deserve all this pain.”-I murmured and kissed my baby’s cheek several times.
- “Have you considered bringing her here? Keep her close?”- mom muttered
- “I’ve told him that so many times… but he keeps saying it’s too much to deal with considering we have the kids…”- but I couldn’t continue talking, because Spencer walked over and stood next to me. Raven kept her little arms around his neck and smiled at me as I stared at her thinking my daughter was the biggest daddy’s girl I had ever met.
- “ How was your day, Sofia?”
- “I was just telling (Y/N), I had a very nice day today. I had lunch with my friend Rebecca, she is so fun! She just came back from Canada, she was visiting her daughter.”
Remember when I told you I was the best liar in the entire FBI? I got that from my mom.
Later that night, we put the kids to bed. Raven asked Spencer to read her a story while I walked Vinny across his room until he was fast asleep. I sang to him under my breath and watched him asleep for a few minutes, enjoying the entire moment ‘cos I knew how short those moments were. My little baby was going to be running up and down the house in no time.
After I put him down in his crib, I put an eye on Raven, who was sound asleep already. I covered her and tiptoed outside her room, ready to get into my bed and get some decent sleep for once. That was when I heard my husband on the phone.
- “Dr. Stanfield, hi, my name is Spencer Reid, and I was wondering if you were available tomorrow to talk about my mother.”
And that’s when I knew he wasn’t going to Las Vegas the following day. He was gonna focus on getting her into another experimental treatment instead of spending decent time with her while he still could. And it really broke my heart to think how traumatized and helpless he must have felt.
Spencer’s point of view
I knew my wife was worried about me. But all I could think of at that minute was how to help my mother. And hanging out with her was not going to stop the dementia from taking her from me. I had to find a way to treat her, a place where they could actually help her.
So I let the days pass, we got a few more cases, and life continued as it had always been, and that gave me some sort of comfort. I got my mother into another experimental study group in Houston. (Y/N) and I talked about it and we had an agreement. I was going to give that study a chance, but if it didn’t work, we were bringing my mother to Washington so we could take care of her and help her as much as we could.
It didn’t feel right putting my wife under so much pressure, but she kept telling me what happened to my mother wasn’t just my problem, but ours ‘cos we were a family. And if I have to be honest, I loved the sound of that.
And life left a little more in place after that. Until it finally happened. After over a month without Hotch, we arrived at the bullpen and Garcia intercepted us before we could even have our first coffee at the office.
- “Thank God you guys are here. What do you know?”- and we all stared at her not getting what she was talking about.
- “Nothing.”- JJ replied and frowned, as lost as we were. So Garcia started explaining:
- “Ok. Rossi got here crazy early, and then right when Prentiss came in he pulled her in there.”- and we all stared at his office the minute he and Prentiss walked out and stared back at us with the most serious expression.
- “We need to talk.”- David said as he and Emily walked to the briefing room.
- “That never leads to anything good.”- I whispered and didn’t even stop to leave my purse on my desk as I followed the team to the room. Spencer held my hand and looked at me, clearly worried about what was going to happen. Was someone leaving? What other changes could we face as a team?
- “What's going on?”- Garcia asked as soon as we were all together behind a closed door.
- “It's Hotch.”- Rossi announced and our hearts stopped at the idea of anything happening to our Unit Chief.
- “Oh, my God. Is he ok?”- Penelope’s voice was hyperventilated as she spoke.
- “He's ok. But he has not been away on special assignment.”- David started explaining- “That's something we had to say as a cover for the investigation.”
- “I’m sorry, what are you talking about? What investigation?”- (Y/N) shouted the questions, a little exasperated Rossi was taking his sweet time explaining what was happening.
- “Hotch saw Peter Lewis watching one of Jack's soccer games.”- and we all gasped at David’s words, ‘cos it meant Mr. Scratch was stalking our team.
- “By the time Hotch reacted, Lewis had taken off. The Bureau searched the area, but he disappeared.”- Prentiss added, sounding very secure and calmed, knowing she had to give us at least the false sensation of security.
- “When was this?”- JJ asked, her voice and expression as stern as I had ever seen.
- “Days after Mr. Scratch resurfaced in Arizona.”- I nodded at Rossi’s words and Tara commented
- “One of the victims was chanting his name when we found her. She had "Hotch" carved into her forehead. It really got to him.”
- “Why didn't he tell us? We could have focused on finding Mr. Scratch!”- I questioned right away. It was upsetting knowing our Unit Chief had been through that hell on his own when we could have all helped him find that psycho and keep his family safe.
- “He knows we can't drop everything. Also, he didn't want to worry everyone.”- Rossi explained like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was. It meant we had failed to keep each other safe.
- “So now what? They have around-the-clock surveillance?”- Luke asked what we all wanted to know but couldn’t ask, ‘cos I get at a certain level, we were all in shock.
- “Initially, yes.”- Rossi started, and it didn’t sound good.- “Agents were assigned to watch Jack 24/7. But when we were all in L.A, on the John David Bates case, Scratch surfaced again, this time at Jack's school.”
- “Going after Jack takes this to a whole new level.”- JJ mumbled looking scared, and I could absolutely relate to her. When you realize your own kids could be the next ones chased by a serial killer, things start looking very dark.
- “Peter Lewis is not going to stop. Which is why Hotch and Jack have now entered the program.”- Rossi finished explaining, and for a moment it felt unreal. It was also a deja vu. I couldn’t stop thinking it was the same thing that happened with Haley. Hotch must have been going through hell all those weeks alone with Jack.
- “But now that this happened, we can drop everything and focus on catching Mr. Scratch, and then Hotch can come back, right?”- Garcia’s voice was filled with hope, but somehow I knew the answer was going to be a no. (Y/N) held my hand tight and I moved closer to her, feeling her body next to me.
- “He went away believing that could happen. But things have changed. He's now decided that he can't put himself and Jack in danger again.”
It was official. Hotch was gone for good. And it didn’t matter if we caught Mr. Scratch or not. He had made his choice. And it was his family, his real family, not his “work family”.
- “He just sent in his resignation.”- Rossi confirmed. - “I know this is a lot to process.”
- “I mean, yeah, he's a great dad, and this is an impossible job, and we know how much tragedy he's had. He's had enough tragedy. But… does this mean we're never going to be able to talk to him again?”
It was Garcia’s question that left us all speechless. It wasn’t just that Hotch had entered the witness protection program. It was the fact he had left us. Just like that. Like we didn’t matter. Not even saying goodbye. Turning his back to everything we had done together all the years we were at the BAU. It was… shocking to say the least.
- “We don't have a choice.”- Rossi assured us- “It's not ideal, obviously. But as his friends, we have to support his decision.”
- “The only way for Hotch to guarantee Jack's safety is if they both stay off the grid.”- Emily commented with such sorry eyes you could tell she didn’t want to give us that news. No one would. It was heartbreaking for the team.
- “And one more thing.”- Rossi added, but my wife interrupted him.
- “Come on papa! We can’t deal with any more news today. It’s too early to drink, too soon to retire. What do you want from us?”
- “Trust me, ragazza, you are gonna like this”- Rossi cut her a short smile and explained. “Hotch spoke to the director as to who should replace him. Don't worry, it won't be me. You know I'm allergic to paperwork.”
- “Aren’t we all?”- (Y/N) whispered and made me chuckle as David finally announced.
- “But Hotch's final request was that Emily Prentiss becomes the BAU's new bureau chief.”
- “Thank the universe for silver linings.”- Garcia mumbled as we all nearly clapped in excitement. That was actually good news.
- “Ok, I just heard about all of this myself a few minutes ago.”- Prentiss was almost apologizing for her new position.
- “But you are gonna say yes, aren’t you Em?”- (Y/N) asked her immediately, and Prentiss just stared at her not knowing what to answer.- “I mean, we all miss you, you miss us. This place is finally feeling a little like home with you around…”
- “Thank you, Reid.”- Em replied with a silly grin, enjoying calling my wife by her new last name, though it wasn’t new at all at that point.
- “Congratulations, Emily.”- Luke said and smiled at her.
- “This'll be good, right?”- I asked, trying to stay positive at that major change.
- “You kidding me? This'll be great.”- JJ was nearly beaming with the announcement.
- “I am really happy for you.”- Tara added with a warm smile. But Prentiss shook her head as she stared at us.
- “Thank you, guys, but I haven't exactly signed on yet.”
- “What is there to analyze? We are dying without you, we need you, you are our family.”- (Y/N) nearly glared at Em as she excused herself and Rossi continued talking before my wife said anything else.
- “Everyone knows you have a lot to consider, but the brass needs an answer by tomorrow.”
- “Understood.”- Prentiss just nodded as Garcias’s phone beeped.
- “I hate to interrupt the bad news/good news with bad news/bad news, but we've got three missing kids in Delaware.”
And just like that, life continued. I hated it. I needed time to process what was happening. To think about what was Hotch doing, and how it would affect us all. But no, I didn’t have time at all. It was all changing again, and I hate change so much it’s hard to even describe how I felt.
Pointless. That’s the word. It all started feeling pointless.
- “Can we please have a quiet weekend at home?”- (Y/N) whispered as we all gathered our things after briefing the next case. We had to be in the jet in a few minutes.
- “Sure chipmunk. Anything in mind?”
- “Pajamas, our babies, movies and books. Maybe some home-baked cookies.”
- “Sounds like the best plan.”- I kissed the top of her head and she sighed.
- “Can you imagine being Hotch?”- she whispered as I stayed close to her.- “I mean, Jack was being followed by a serial killer. If anything like that happened to Raven or Vinny, I’d…”- I couldn’t let her follow that rabbit hole, so I tried to stop her before she continued spiraling down.
- “They are safe. We are safe.”- I whispered and kissed her forehead.- “And I will never let anything happen to any of you, chipmunk. Never.”
- “I’m sure that’s what Hotch said to himself every day while he worked here.”- (Y/N) seemed lost in her head as she mumbled those words. I held her close to me and sighed knowing what was happening was as hard for me as it was for her.
- “And he stayed true to his word. Nothing will happen to Jack.”- I assured her, trying to make her feel calm.
- “Not after what happened to Hailey.”- my wife whispered and her voice sounded brokenhearted. - “Sometimes I wonder which will be the drop that breaks the camel’s back for us at the BAU.”
I stared at (Y/N) not knowing what to say. So I kept my mouth shut as her eyes begged me for an answer.
- “Come on, Reids.”- Luke interrupted us as he passed by my desk. - “They are waiting for us in the jet.”
- “Yeah, we’ll be right there.”- (Y/N) replied and took a step back from me slowly. I held her hand and looked into her eyes, trying to show her how serious I was.
- “I will never let anything hurt you, or our babies.”
- “I know, hon. Me neither.”
The mood on the plane was weird. (Y/N) sat next to Prentiss and Rossi and kept asking questions about Hotch the first minutes we were there, while I walked to the kitchenette to pour us some coffee.
- “There's a lot to process before my first cup.”- JJ said as we stood there, both of us craving caffeine. She handed me a cup for myself and poured one for herself.
- “Thank you.”- I replied and grabbed another mug for my wife as she just kept talking.
- “I can't believe he's been dealing with this for weeks and we never knew.”
- “That part really doesn't surprise me. He's always kept things to himself. I guess it was just his way of protecting us.”- I said in a lower voice, ‘cos I really didn’t want to talk much more about the subject if we were supposed to be focusing on the case.
- “If anyone targeted my boys, I'd do anything to keep them safe.”- JJ whispered and looked at me wanting to open up about how she felt about the entire situation. But we didn’t have time.
- “I know how you feel”- and before she could continue talking, I grabbed the two mugs and walked back to my wife.
- “Thank you, batsy.”- she smiled and grabbed the cup from my hands as Rossi asked Emily if she was ready to test drive leading the team. No one was ready for that change. But change doesn’t wait for anyone.
(Y/N)’s point of view
I hated everything. Hotch was gone. Out of the blue. My unit chief. My friend. Out of the blue, just gone. Forever. And why? ‘Cos work had gotten too much of a threat for his family. That was my biggest fear and it happened to the strongest man in the BAU. It meant it could happen to any of us. Including my family. I just didn’t know how to deal with that fear at the moment. So I tried to push it aside and focus on work. We had to find three missing kids.
Yeah, kids. ‘Cos life was not going to make things easier for me.
The town was small, the kind of place where everybody knew each other. We were at the police station talking with the chief, Coop. Spencer was trying to find a connection between the three missing kids and the ghost story in town. Apparently, way back, a local mental institution burned down and inmates escaped, town legend has it that those who were never found moved into abandoned houses around town. And considering the kids were into horror movies, they might have tried to get into one of those houses and god knows what was waiting in there.
Sadly, there was a history of missing kids in town. Back in 1993, the Henson twins had disappeared at thirteen and their bodies were never found. We didn’t know if we were trying to find the same unsub or not, but it was the only lead we had. Rossi asked me to stay with him and Tara at the station, talking with the parents, as Spencer, Luke, and JJ went to the area where the Hensen kids were last seen, to try to find any clues.
It wasn’t easy talking with the parents. It never is. But that day was especially hard. There I was, playing my BAU SSA part, all together, when deep down, I was as scared as those poor parents, wondering if my kids were in fact safe. Not just at that minute, but ever. Was I helping make the world a better place or just exposing my family to the rage of any random serial killer?
- “Bella donna…”- Rossi announced his entrance to the room where I stood in front of the board, not really staring at the pictures of the missing kids, but trying to find a sense of everything that happened around us.
- “Coronel Cannelloni.”- I replied with a tiny smile.- “How did it go with Jimmy Ridley?”
- “Penelope got nothing.”- I hummed and kept staring at the board.- “Anything else on the parents?”
- “No, they are just desperate. And I totally understand.”- Rossi walked until he was standing next to me, staring at the same board, and kept quiet for a moment. - “Are you going to ask how I’m holding up?”
- “More like trying to find the right words to ask you how you are doing without sounding condescending”- I nodded and sighed.
- “You just nailed it. I’m…”
- “Mad”- Rossi took the words from my lips as I nodded.
- “Yeah, and terrified.”
- “Your kids are going to be ok, you can trust me on that. I don’t think Spencer would ever leave anything to hurt you or those bambinos.”
- “I know. Or at least, I want to think I do. I just…”- I made a pause and turned to look at him, trying to really find the right words to explain how I felt.- “It’s just pointless, you know? Everyone leaves. Why are we staying? Why am I missing my baby’s first words or first steps to save a world that feels like it doesn't even deserve to be saved?”
David Rossi opened my mouth, but no word came from him. He just stared at me for a moment, and then opened his arms, and just hugged me tight, as I kept fighting the tears back.
- “He was my friend. And now he is gone.”
- “I know.”
- “Like Morgan, like Blake, like Callahan, like Elle…”
- “It’s ok to feel like nothing makes sense.”- Rossi whispered and just kept trying to keep me together.
- “How do I do this job when I am questioning the entire time if it’s actually worthy of everything I am missing?”
- “Just keep in mind everyone we are helping here.”- Rossi kissed the top of my head. - “And that we all love you. You are like my kid, I’ve watched you grow and become an amazing young woman, who is raising the most incredible kids with the man she loves. You are doing everything right. Never doubt that.”
I nodded and sighed as Rossi kept his eyes on me. Tara Lewis walked into the room and stared at us, confused.
- “Just a little pep talk.”- I explained and waved as David chuckled.
- “Seems today is the right day to get or give one of those to the team.”- Tara cut me a smile and added.- “We have footage of the cornfield last night. The rest of the team are on their way back.”
- “Great. Hopefully, there’s something on the kids in it.”- I said and felt my phone humming. It was a text from my husband.
- “Miss you. Be there in ten.”- and those six words automatically made me feel better.
To be completely honest, I was miserable the entire time. Prentiss asked me to stay with the parents, which didn’t help my mood at all. Just being with those couples who felt guilty that anything bad could happen to their kids was too easy for me to relate to. Spencer kept texting me, with updates from the field, info on Jimmy Ridley’s house, and asking if I needed anything.
- “Just come back safe.”- I replied. They had to bring Ridley back for interrogation ‘cos they found some of the kids’ belongings at his house. My guts kept telling me he wasn’t the unsub, but there was something weird happening in that town. All small towns creep me out. There are usually too many secrets for so few people living in them.
Less than fifteen minutes later, my husband stood in front of me and hugged me quickly.
- “How are you, chipmunk?”
- “As tired as I was when you left, honey bunny.”- I replied and felt his lips on my cheek, as Prentiss stood by our side arguing.
- “I’m not even sure I’ll accept this job and you are forcing me to give you a warning for PDA at work.”
- “Sorry”- Spencer and I said at the same time as we moved from each other, but our friend just laughed and kept walking.
- “Shit, I missed making fun of you.”
- “You are lucky I love you.”- I replied and followed her- “How did the interview go?”
- “Luke talked to him. Your guts were right. He is most likely not our guy.” - the team got together and we analyzed what we had, which to be honest, still wasn’t much.
- “His house is a puzzle, but other than the bicycle helmet, we couldn't find any sign of the kids.”- Em explained and Alvez agreed
- “ I think this guy's too simple to be who we're looking for.”
- “The kids were tracing the steps of the Henson’s missing kids. Maybe we should put an eye on that investigation.”- I looked at Prentiss, and she nodded.
- “Who called it in back then?”- JJ asked and my husband replied.
- “Their mom did, but she died a few years ago. Their older brother Deeley was with them that night.”- Spencer added and showed a picture of the three brothers together.
- “Yeah, we met him on the roadside.”- Prentiss explained. - “According to Coop, he lives across town and he went out of his way to find us on Route 7.
- “Sounds like he's trying to insert himself into our investigation.”- Rossi pointed out
- “Except when we asked him to talk, he refused.”- Spencer refuted the theory and looked at me.
- “Maybe he just needs someone who listens. I’m sure it was hard for him, investigation in small towns can turn into hell.”- I was rambling out loud, but by the look on my husband’s face, he was on board.
- “Maybe it's time to give talking to him another try.”- Prentiss suggested.
- “You want to take a ride?”- Alvez asked Spencer
- “Sure.”
- “Don’t flirt with my husband!”- I warned him, joking obviously. Luke chuckled and Spencer frowned confused.- “Watch out, Alvez!”
- “I would never even think about getting in between you two, Mrs Reid.”
- “It’s Doctor Reid, for you.”- I teased Luke and he just chuckled.
- “See you later, chipmunk.”- Spencer held my hand for a moment and squeezed it, sweetly.
- “Take care, honey.”
- “If Jimmy really isn't our unsub, we're back to one.”- JJ said the second Luke and Spencer left the room.
- “Let's go dig up the Henson files.”- Rossi suggested and she agreed. - “I'll buy you a cup of coffee on the way.”
And just like that, it was just Tara, Em, and I in the room. I hadn’t been alone with Prentiss after what had happened that morning. Mostly along with the team. And I didn’t really know what to say or how to ask her what was going on in her head.
- “What are you thinking?”- luckily, Tara did it for me.
- “A lot of circumstantial evidence against Jimmy Ridley, but I wanted to go over…”- Prentiss started ranting about the case, but Lewis quickly corrected her
- “I was actually wondering what you were thinking about staying.”
- “Oh. Right. Well, uh, more pros than cons.”- Emily explained and looked at me with a sweet smile. - “I love this group and the job, but…”
- “But you've got a life back in London”- Tarah finished her sentence nodding
- “And don’t forget she also has a boyfriend on the other side of the pond.”- I added with my worst British accent.
- “Yeah….”- Prentiss was almost holding her breath as she answered, probably ‘cos she didn’t really want to deal with any of that at the moment.
- “Have you told him yet?- but clearly, Tara wasn’t going to let it go.
- “I haven't had the chance. We jumped on the jet.”- I knew it was the logical answer, we really didn’t have much time for any personal problem. But this was a big deal, and it sounded like Em was making up excuses to delay facing the situation.
- “You should call him.”- Tara simply replied and stared at her. Em nodded immediately.
- “I will.”- but neither of us moved. Instead, the two of us just stared at her, waiting for her reaction.- “You mean right this second.”
- “Yeah.”- I chuckled along with Tara as we both started walking out of the room Emily grabbed her cell phone and dialed.- “Hey!”- we heard her saying as we left the room.
- “Thank you for that.”- I whispered and looked at Lewis.- “She needed a boost to start dealing with the facts.
- “I can recognize a fellow woman with issues dealing with hard topics.”
- “If that’s your superpower, I am not jealous.”- I joked and Tara chuckled.
- “It’s more like my natural reaction. I blame all the years I worked as a psychologist. My brain is wired to start treating anyone around me, even when I am not supposed to.”
- “Remind me to never stay alone with you in a room for more than a minute.”
- “Come on, (Y/N). I would never profile a team member… especially one with a profiler husband, who can track me and make me pay.”- I chuckled at the thought of Spencer avenging me, not ‘cos I didn’t think it was possible, but because it was exactly what would happen. And it was one of the reasons why I loved him so much.
A search party was organized to cover the whole area where the kids might have been taken. By nighttime, we were desperate, because we were running out of time to get the kids back safely. Spencer and Luke never came back to the station after talking with Henson, they stayed helping with the search. Emily left to meet them as soon as they found a bag pack that belonged to one of the kids, so I never got the chance to ask her what had happened with her boyfriend.
It wasn’t the right time either, we had to save those kids.
We didn’t have much news until Rossi, Tara and I got a call from Luke and the rest of the team. We finally had a name.
- “This Clements guy used to hunt out here and someone still using his traps.”- Alvez explained to us what they knew about the suspect after finding a trap with fresh bait in the middle of the woods.
- “I'll patch in Garcia.”- Rossi dialed her number and her voice made me smile for a moment.
- “I was feeling forgotten.”
- “Not on my watch.”- I replied immediately- “We need all your intel. What do you have on a local man named Reginald Clements?”
- “Reginald Clements.”- we could all hear her typing as fast as possible and a few seconds later, we heard an avalanche of information.- “Uh... He's lived there all his life. He, uh, appears to be, I think the words for it are "off his rocker." Lot of bats in the belfry. B-a-n-a-n-a-s.”
- “Tell me more, tell me more, like does he have a car?”- I recited the lyrics of the Grease song and Tara bit her lips next to me, trying not to laugh.
- “I am going to send you what I find as I find it so you can follow along at home. He's from one of the founding families, but this Reginald has quite the past. He did time at that mental hospital that burned down, but he was there before the fire.
- “For what?”- JJ asked from the other side of the line.
- “Assault with a deadly weapon. But it was the bodily harm he did to himself that put him away. He claimed he needed protection from aliens. His delusions ranged from the world ending to major conspiracies, cag him to live entirely off the grid. And, you know, I'm all for solar panels and making your own kombucha, but this guy took it to the extreme. When he was 18, he got in trouble for abduction of a minor. And get this. His defense was loneliness.”
- “When was he released?”- I heard my husband asking
- “Winter of 1982.”- Pen replied in a second.
- “So if it was him, he was out for a year before the Hensons disappeared. It could have been for a dual purpose… Survival and companionship.”- Emily suggested, and it made all the sense in the world.
- “If he got the Henson’s kids he might have never gotten to abduct anyone else for the rest of his life.”- I commented on that train of thought. - “He already got what he wanted, there was no need to put himself in danger again.”
- “Is Clements dead, Garcia?”- Rossi asked the elemental question
- “I don't have a death certificate, but if he's alive, he'd be 82.”
- “Could he have been strong enough to hold the boys and set hunting traps? ”- Luke asked, though it sounded like he was rambling on his own to settle his own head.
- “Doubtful.”- David answered his question, but I knew there was something more.
- “What’s your theory, homewrecker?”- I asked him
- “I'm thinking the next logical step. If he didn't kill the Hensons, he's had them this whole time.”
- “But how would he maintain control, especially once they were strong enough to escape?”- Tara questioned
- “If you think about it, it wouldn’t be that hard.”- I replied, picturing the whole scene in my head clearly.- “He's already got them isolated, and their home life wasn't great. They were young and naive enough to buy all the conspiracy theories he fed them. It might have worked.”
- “Exactly!”- Luke supported me. - “He believes that the world is coming to an end. He could have convinced them of his own delusions.”
- “So one paranoid survivalist bred two more.”- JJ concluded and I nodded, though no one but Tara and David could see me.
- “And if the Henson twins have taken our 3 boys, who knows what they're gonna do with them.” - Spencer’s words gave me chills. Not of the good kind. They meant those poor kids had been raised by a psychopath who brainwashed them and ruined their future.
- “We need an address, Garcia.”- it was the only thing I could think of at the moment.
- “On your phones.”
The team got there on time and saved the three kids. Plus, the Henson kids, reunite them with their older brother. We don’t usually get happy endings, but that day, we did. I finally had the pleasure of telling the families their kids were coming back home safe. And it was a heartwarming moment when my husband opened the front door of the station and the three kids ran to their parent’s arms. It was hard not to cry as I watched them all hugging and kissing their kid’s cheeks.
Spencer held my hand as he stood by my side, and I leaned onto his shoulder, feeling my heart filled with love and contentment. For the first time in what seemed to be forever.
- “Moments like this make everything worth it.”- Spencer whispered as we kept staring at the emotive family reunion going on in front of us.
- “Yeah…”- I mumbled and rested my head on his shoulder.- “Having Prentiss here is also very nice.”
- “Do you think she might want to stay?”- my husband made sure to whisper those words in my ear, so no one else from the team could hear us. I shrugged and didn’t move my eyes from the kids. One mother took a bag with snacks from her purse and gave it to her son. She probably made it as soon as she heard her son was missing, scared he could be starving. It was one of the sweetest gestures I’ve ever seen. Something only a mother can understand, I guess.
- “We could just ask her. This team will be miserable if she decides to leave. Can you imagine? Getting a new guy for the job? Having to meet a random agent?”-
- “Like Alvez?”- I could almost hear the smile on Spencer’s words.
- “He is fine. Garcia still hates him, though.”
- “Of course, she does…”- my phone dinged and a picture of our babies playing on the carpet, watching Paw Patrol warmed our hearts. Mom had taken them to our place.
- “Ready to go home?”- I asked my husband and he nodded, still holding my hand tight.
The flight back home was very short. But we still found a moment to talk to Emily. We knew it was too soon, but we had to ask her what she was going to do, ‘cos honestly, what had happened had been too hard. We needed some silver lining.
- “You ok?” - JJ asked Em as the three of us walked toward her on the jet. Emily was sitting on her own, lost in thought, looking over the window.
- “Yeah. I'm just glad we found those kids.”
- “Oh, yeah, me, too. But, uh, I was talking about that other thing.”- JJ sat in front of Prentiss as me and Spencer stood by our friend, waiting for her reaction. And what did she do? She asked how we felt about the entire situation, ‘cos of course she was worried about us.
- “I haven't had a chance to talk to you guys. What do you think?”
- “I think we've been through a lot of changes and we always figure it out, you know?”- Spencer started the most rational speech of his life.- “Morgan left, and now Hotch, but if you stay, it'll be ok.”
- “If you ask me, honestly, you being here is the only thing keeping me sane right now”- I said from my guts, not my brain.- “How did it go with your boyfriend?”
- “I talked to Mark, and he is gonna be here next week for a visit.”- Prentiss announced, absolutely not sure if that was good or bad news. So I did the only thing I knew how to do: I started making plans.
- “We could show him around the tourist places, maybe have brunch…”
- “Let’s see how it goes when he gets her first, (Y/N).”- Em smiled at me and stopped my planning in a second.
- “Roger that.”
- “They need an answer in the morning, right?”- JJ’s words came close to a whisper, ‘cos I’m guessing neither of us wanted to push her, but we also needed answers.
- “I know.”- Prentiss sighed and looked outside the window. I turned to Spencer and bit my lips, as he stated the facts, crouching down next to Em’s seat.
- “Here's the truth. If you don't take the position, they're gonna bring in some stranger to be the Unit chief. And I don't know how that'll turn out, but the learning curve could be brutal.”
- “Yeah, I mean, one thing is bringing a new SSA to the team, which is always a curveball. But a new Unit Chief, that’s a completely different thing.”- I pointed out and cut Prentiss a short smile.- “And you know how I act with authorities… I am not good at random people telling me what to do.”
- “It'll probably stink for us, but…”- JJ was trying to be rational. - “Look, we're your friends and we'll support you no matter what you decide.”
There was a silence between the four of us. Prentiss took a deep breath and made eye contact with us all.
- “I'm gonna stay.
- “Oh, thank God!”- JJ nearly yelled, relieved. I opened my arms and hugged Prentiss in a second.
- “Best news ever!!”
- “Are you serious?”- Spencer asked nearly in shock.
- “Yes!”- Em replied as soon as I let her go.- “I love being here, and I've really missed you guys.”
- “We have missed you, too.”- JJ kept smiling as I giggled and my husband stared at Emily, still not believing what she had just said.
- “Honestly, you have no idea how much.”
Spencer’s point of view
Later that night, when we were nearly ready to go back home, Garcia got us all together in the conference room for a toast. We had to celebrate something good had happened after all: Emily was staying. And no matter how much Hotch’s departure was hurting us, there was some silver lining to treasure. We were all holding our glasses when Rossi started a very touching speech.
- “Well, let me just say something to everyone. I've been in and out of here since 1978, but I know this is where I belong. I've seen a lot of great agents pass through those doors, and a lot of them have moved on. Now, most of this team has been together for over a decade. Some of you have actually started a family together. I promise you, that doesn't happen often.”- Rossi smiled at me and winked- “Now, I've heard the rumblings about how lucky we are, and it's true, but the truth is, it's what happens… When we're not on a case that has defined who we are. We stand beside one another, through good, through bad, because we're family. So… To Aaron and Jack, I don't know who's luckier, but it warms my heart to know that they'll be together every day and safe. And to Emily, our friend, and new Unit Chief. Welcome home.”
We toasted and smiled. Yes, we were happy and lucky to be together again. The team was facing two major changes in less than six months. Derek left, Hotch left, and we had a new Unit Chief. It felt like things were changing too much too fast.
That very same night, after putting our babies to sleep, I sat at the kitchen table with my wife and two cups of herbal tea and just held hands as neither of us knew how to start that conversation.
- “So…”- she finally whispered after eleven minutes of silence.- “What are we going to do?”
- “I honestly don’t know.”- that was my best answer because I really didn’t know where to go after what was happening.- “I mean, at least we have Emily back. That’s a good thing.”
- “Yeah… but, I’m scared.”- (Y/N) murmured, probably ashamed of dealing with how she felt. - “If Aaron couldn’t keep Jack safe from serial killers…”
- “We could do it, you know”- I replied knowing where her train of thought was going.- “We are not Unit Chiefs, we are not…”
- “We are dealing with psychopaths daily, Spencer. You know that.”- she paused and looked into my eyes with honest concern.- “Mr. Scratch is still out there…”
- “But he doesn't want us. He wanted Hotch.”
- “Ok, so what if Cat Addams escapes from prison.”- my wife suggested and the mere thought of it gave me chills.- “She swore she wanted to avenge what you did to get. What if she does? What if she hurts you? or your mom, or us? What then?”- her voice trembled and I quickly stood up and wrapped my arms around her. She did the same, holding onto me, nearly shaking.- “I had never been so afraid before, Spencer. Suddenly, I no longer feel like I can keep our family safe.”
- “We can do it, chipmunk.”- I kissed the top of her head and looked at her, holding her face with both hands.- “We will be safe. We are safe. Nothing bad will happen to us.”
- “But…”- tears blurred her eyes and fell down her cheeks.- “Promise me, Spencer. Swear to me if anyone threatens us, we’ll leave. We are not putting our family in danger. If someone is trying to hurt us, we will join the program and vanish. No playing heroes. Not putting anyone on the line. If there is a threat, we leave.”
- “I swear.”- I replied immediately, running my thumbs across her cheeks, and wiping off her tears.
And that was the day I lied to my wife.
I held her in my arms and kissed her cheeks and lips until she calmed down. Then we got into bed and cuddled until she fell asleep. I wasn’t as lucky, and stayed up staring at the ceiling, thinking I had a lot to plan. I needed to make my wife feel secure and keep my babies safe, no matter what. And my mother had to get better. I needed a way to fix everything. Make us happy, and healthy. There had to be a way to do it. I just needed to find it. 
Tumblr media
Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist
Previous chapter | Next chapter (post date: November 20th)
19 notes · View notes
wizardsix · 1 day ago
Text
ok... so I have finally finished veilguard after about 90 painful hours (two playthroughs). im not gonna write an actual review about all of my detailed thoughts bc it'll actually take days, this is just to at least get my general thoughts out and see if anyone else feels the same or if ive actually lost it.
overall it is the weakest dragon age game story-wise, and I'd give it a nice lukewarm 4/10.
(i wrote this post right after I finished the game on the weekend so maybe I sound a bit harsh, I tried to edit it to be more reasonable lol but I didn't really want to delete this since I do still stand by a lot of this)
I really tried to go in with an open mind, bc I always want to experience media in full before making any kind of judgement, but about a few hours in I had this horrible feeling that once again this was another soulless, rushed game, and I still don't feel any different after finishing the game.
what stuck out to me was that there's no sense of urgency despite what the plot is, serious topics are not treated with care as the writing overall is shallow, and the gods as well as any other enemy you encounter are just cartoon villains (and apparently the lore retconning, but I'm not well-versed enough to dissect that so I won't).
I can't take this plot seriously when it feels so disjointed and forced and lazy. and I see no point in caring about anything when choices literally don't matter. no say in who you recruit, no say in the relationships with them and they have almost no awareness of rook, definitely doesn't matter if you have allies or not bc they show up anyway, and only four companions are locked into unavoidable decisions where one of them bites the dust no matter what (which is strange bc why are harding and davrin forced to die no matter if they're at hero status while bellara and neve can literally survive blight if they're at hero status), so it's impossible to try to strategize for better (or worse) outcomes with all the people you've gathered when there's only one right answer that the game pretty much tells you instead of letting you think for yourself (and side note this game does an incredible amount of hand holding). the game actively tries to trick you into thinking your choices matter with the onscreen notifications, but nothing matters bc the devs clearly had only one story in mind and for some reason lied that it had "complex choices".
also rook in general wasn't interesting as a protagonist bc they were written to be perfect. they always know what to say and are so supportive of everyone. they never struggle with anything. not even with leadership beyond "man leading a team is hard :/" but it doesn't actually show how hard it is by having actual volatile conflict between the companions* or showing how their plans sometimes fail. which, if we actually had choices that mattered, would have helped develop that struggle. also? what's with everyone being so friendly? I'm not gonna get into that but everyone is so eerily nice and it's been said a lot but yeah, the world is extremely sanitized and devoid of any real conflict aside from the gods I guess.
*(like off the top of my head cassandra fighting with varric and accusing him of not being on their side or how the inquisitor can literally punch dorian and solas if approval is low enough or fenris and anders bordering on killing each other is not the same as lucanis and davrin distrusting each other or people being uncomfortable with emmrich's necromancy. it just scratches the surface of conflict and never goes anywhere)
and let me say real quick again, there's nothing wrong if they wanted to make a more rigid story about being a hero. it's been done a million times and it can be executed well, but if you do that you need to make sure you 1) don't lie to people and 2) actually flesh out your (especially main) characters and plot to give people a reason to care. look at dragon age 2. hawke is a fixed protagonist with their own life front and center. they ultimately only have two choices (siding with mages or templars), but it works bc the game took time to build up the conflict straight from act 1 so by the time chaos happens in act 2 and 3 you understand why bc it's Been brewing the whole time. it just makes sense. the villains as well have sound reasons and feel real instead of being evil just bc. the story is more grounded, yet you have choices. you decide if hawke ends up alone or not. you decide how they approach situations with force or diplomacy. there's none of that in veilguard. a game that supposedly took 10 years to make. when dragon age 2 took almost 16 months (yes I know da2 also has problems like the fact that the templars are always proven right but this isn't the place to dissect that).
I want to be fair though and I do want to restate what I enjoyed about the game. the cc (though would it kill them to have more variety in face textures like age and body types beyond average.. also no colour wheel... especially since they claimed their cc was so good), the map progression/visuals/exploration (how certain places become more blighted overtime), the factions (though I feel there should have been more content for your faction, and helping them or not should have mattered more), the combat (did not feel like a slog, pretty fun and mindless), the companions (bellara, davrin, emmrich, harding, and lucanis had solid personalities and stories despite my complaints. neve was not memorable and I just feel sad for taash's bad writing), certain parts of the story were good, the intro and the point of no return sequences were solid, and the ending didn't feel rushed or boring compared to inquisition. and yes, I do appreciate that rook can be trans, I just think a little more subtly and care would've been nice.
another thing I did like and predicted was that varric died at the beginning of veilguard, and for a second I actually enjoyed that because i thought we were finally (a bit too late tho) getting some depth to rook and their own struggles of accepting his death and carrying this weight without him. and while I do think maybe they should've taken more time to establish the mentor/mentee relationship so we really feel rooks regret, I still think it was at least the right direction where in their grief they still see him, giving advice and narrating their journey.....but then it turned out to just be solas manipulating them the whole time, immediately destroying any emotional weight this reveal had.
whenever bioware has good ideas they shoot themselves in the foot and make it about solas. it's like nothing in the world exists without solas being involved somehow, and that is just incredibly boring and uninspired to me. not to mention solas just being an insufferable ass the whole time, which is fine, but it's not even in a compelling way like he used to be. he became so ugly by the end and the fact that the devs consider redeeming him the "good ending" and not giving him what he deserves is very telling and once again shows their own bias is king over good storytelling (solas' feelings should not come into play here, whether you/your companions live or die should determine good/bad ending since solas is trapped no matter what, only difference is who is trapped with him. idk but I personally think different endings actually means different outcomes). i will not go into the bs of the secret post credit scene, bc frankly I'm fed up with bioware's shitty writing and I won't be playing their next world ending space aliens game (unless they miraculously pull a good story out of their ass but lbr).
overall the bad outweighs the good for me. it's fun to play as a game, it's a decent fantasy game, but the story just doesn't do anything for me. sometimes I wonder if dreadwolf was a completely different game and was scrapped for veilguard last minute. maybe this was yet another inevitable industry fuck up and maybe there was a good story planned at one point. idk. all I know is bioware lied. respect and credit to the poor devs and writers who actually cared and to those who were kicked from the project, but in the end bioware promised too much and delivered too little.
17 notes · View notes
sunlessea · 1 year ago
Note
🎁68 morishrouds <33
Tumblr media
he feels like he can't breathe. the way its claws brush over his jaw, and down the expanse of his neck : this is romantic, isn't it? he can't imagine what else it could be, the way his breath hitches in his throat, his wariness to look it in the eye stemming from something a little too meek to be just simple nerves. he watches it as it takes to kneel in front of him, where its hands trail along the curves of his body to settle its arms around his waist, rather than just grabbing. it's an embracing, shrouds' head leaning forward to rest against his abdomen, hold loose.
Tumblr media
"estera—" his arms are still at his sides, save the space he'd allowed for it to hold him. when it tugs him closer, he lets it. "you don't have to..." be so wary, he wants to say, but he knows why it is. sometimes he's frustrated with how gently it treats him. but still... he brings his hands up, and gently pushes its hair from its eyes... "you have never, ever scared me."
Tumblr media
@londonfallen / spotify starters, u'll never guess what they got
4 notes · View notes
lovesickeros · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]
{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]
Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.
It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.
Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.
She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.
She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.
Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.
And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.
She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.
So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.
Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.
..A dangerous prize, too.
She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.
"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.
He looked out of breath, she noted.
The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.
He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.
"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."
Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.
But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.
So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.
If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.
Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.
What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..
The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.
So if not the prophecy, then what?
Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.
She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.
..A draw, perhaps.
The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.
She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.
Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.
She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.
She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.
"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."
All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.
With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.
Each piece had it's purpose.
Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.
She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.
It was almost too easy.
She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.
The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.
She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.
With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.
Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.
She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.
Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.
The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.
Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.
..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.
She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.
"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..
Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.
Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.
It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.
She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.
For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.
And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.
She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.
"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"
Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..
The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!
"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."
Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.
"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"
..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.
She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.
"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.
Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."
Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.
"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?
She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?
"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."
The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.
"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"
Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.
"Have you no answer?"
The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.
Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.
"I will kill them myself."
Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.
"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."
They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.
"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"
Did she?
"Will you help me?"
She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.
"..Yes."
#sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin impact sagau#self aware genshin impact#fic tag#imposter au#genshin cult au#genshin impact cult au#arlecchino#lyney#furina#you do NOT wanna know what i got put thru writing this fic#trying 2 find out where arle was in the few times we DO see her and going down a rabbit hole of fuck fontaine and its layout actually!#I spent like 3 hours looking it up and checking in game it gives me a migraine thinking abt it. ew#anyway trying to write a really smart character is surprisingly difficult when ur as dumb as rocks#also used an actual chess match for this and gave myself an even worse migraine trying 2 make sure i didnt repeat moves or smth#furina doesnt get a spotlight yet just imagine her sitting in the corner trembling like a wet kitten you found on the side of the road#arlecchino goes thru a crisis more at 11#shes a tired single dad shes isnt getting paid enough for this okay#hands u a fic over half the length of the other THREE PARTS#ehe :]#is arle actually on ur side??? is she gonna double cross u???? who knows!!!!!#shes unpredictable she might stab u for funsies#anyway im gonna go nap in a ditch now this took SO LONGGGGG OH MY G-D#also just think acolytes who arent buddy buddy w reader and even resent them is so tasty#bc how r they supposed 2 know reader was a human vibing 5 minutes before their got eebied 2 teyvat..#reader gotta roll up their sleeves and get 2 WORK sometimes murder IS okay#they gotta fix some shit around here and that means committing several crimes all at once. sometimes more#a group can be g-d (just got here) their dragon (neuvi) their cat (archon) their dog (wrio) and their wolf (arle)
458 notes · View notes
daftmooncretin · 10 months ago
Text
if captain kirk irresponsible? why huge baby cow eyes???
if captain kirk bad captain? why-
you thought i was gonna talk about his voluptuous titties fat ass sparkling personality and unflinching moral character ? no.
if you say kirk is a bad captain i will kill you. I will shoot you into space like they did to bill shatty when he wouldn’t shut tf up about going to space
except unlike bill shatty ill send you up naked and defenceless into the vast chasm of space your lungs will explode and your eyes will fall out or some shit (i saw that in a doctor who episode)
kirk drift is getting out of hand and my response to this is ending all kirk drifters and repopulating the earth with kirklophiles such as myself and my dad paul.
344 notes · View notes
xxplastic-cubexx · 23 days ago
Note
what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]
a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious
i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me
as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy
#snap chats#may you forgive me anon i always feel awkward explaining things AVELKJEAKLJ#i feel esp awkward cause i haven't read toooo much of the comics yet- like ive read. an ok amount so far krakoa wise#can you guys tell im fighting god himself to Not write a fuckin. NOVEL#im so sorry i have an over-explaining problem my mom was mean to me growing up but anyways#i definitely want to read more and more outside krakoa. the more i read the more im fascinated by these two and their history#but to continue my prattling. as if the three paragraphs above arent enough This Is Not A Thesis RELAX#i think a. 'poignant' moment i think adds to what i like about charles too is that soliloquy where he recognizes people dont like him#yet he could always be worse- like if he's bad now to others imagine if he really just said Fuck It All#it's simple but so am i whaddyagonnadoboutit. i mean that point itself could be discussed but i'm trying to keep this brief bear with me#i so bad want to know what issue that's from tho all i know is that it's from krakoa but i neeeed the whole context#i think like. an additional bullet point to charles i also like is his loneliness#and i say this cause- I Say From My Amateur-Psychology Armchair- it's a component of why he's so earnest to help#but im keeping this point in the tags until i can confidently verify that with myself after some more reading#Unfortunately a favorite pass time of mine is psychoanalyzing characters like why else you think i major in psychology smh#im going to force myself to cap the post here because i ended up typing like 20 more tags just rambling#and as i said id like to keep this simple and clean !!!!! i have sat here for like four hours answering this ngl#ignore the fact half that time was spent getting distracted by solitaire and riffling cards ok I Am Very Easily Distracted#but fr when it comes to charles and erik- charles esp imo#i feel like i need to write a whole paper just so i can mention the nuances of the characters and like. EVERYTHING#because again six decades is A Lot of time for writing decisions to be made and for their characters to change over time#im a glazer but i wanna be a nuanced glazer yk. is that glazing at that point-- w/e anyway#its a lot. so today you will have to tolerate a very Blah answer from me which i must apologize for#down the line once ive read a comfortable amount more varying from multiple eras maybe ill revisit this question more in depth#as of right now tho .... chat i wanna get legion of x so bad i skimmed it and hhhhhhhhim gonna throw UP#i need to shake charles like a ragdoll BUT ANYWAY. bye bye for now lovelies !!!!!!!#please forgive me if i didnt answer your question efficiently ..#here i am saying i wanted to keep the tag count brief and yet !!! jesus christ. shut up My God I REACHED THE TAG LIMIT
23 notes · View notes
markcampbells · 6 months ago
Text
It isn't that he doesn't know Wolfwood has it in him. He'd grasped quickly enough that whatever their differences, Wolfwood's heart was… he wouldn't exactly call it in the right place, but it was at least not as far gone as the other man seemed to think. It's Wolfwood being so good with kids that throws him. At a busy inn, a bewildered Vash gets a glimpse of a different side of Wolfwood as he entertains the harried innkeeper's child. (Vashwood Week 2024, Day One: Childhood)
Hello hello, Vashwood nation! My fic for Day One of @vashwood-week is up and I would so appreciate folks checking it out if they're so inclined! Featuring Wolfwood being great with kids and Vash being absolutely fascinated by this, really having a "hope this doesn't awaken anything in me" moment. (Those hopes are dashed immediately, of course.)
Thanks to the organizers of Vashwood Week for putting the event on! I will be back with more tomorrow and hopefully other days this week as well! And thanks to @trigunfanfic for remaining active and giving us fic writers a place to promote our work. 💙
28 notes · View notes
r0b0t1me · 2 years ago
Text
*thinking about casey jones jr so hard i get lightheaded* how are we feeling tonight fellas? are we normal? are w-
Tumblr media
The morning comes sluggishly, quietly, as if the earth itself had woken up from a bad dream. Casey's arms, free of gauze and gloves, move against soft pillows. His hair tousled, his mouth dry, he notices the weightlessness of his own body; floating alone in a calm ocean of warm cloth. He prays for morning drills to wait just a minute longer.
Ten go by, his eyes flit open, he's still coddled and he doesn't understand. He moves, bracing his body against an elbow, and never had Casey felt so tired. Everyone was waiting for him, weren't they? Had Master Leonardo let him sleep in? Casey would never let him hear the end of it. His reverie is broken by a noise, foreign voices, muffled and distant.
That's when his eyes finally move around the room, a repurposed subway car, the only light filtering in through cloth covered windows.
There's a scent in the air, it's- It reminds him of- It's kind of like- sort of- it's-
He doesn't know.
He doesn't know it at all.
Casey falls back into bed with a newfound weight. Memories lurch forward from his clouded mind, ashes in the air, Leonardo's proud smile, a city so foreign yet so fond, interrogations and keys, fighting in the streets, his forehead pressed against cool metal. The embrace of his tired young master, not even an inch taller than him, thanking him over and over.
Tears rush from Casey's eyes, sudden and blinding. He doesn't know if they're from the loss or the exhaustion or the victory or the loneliness or the calm. All he knows is he can hear the quiet laughter of five familiar strangers, that the earth is saved, and the smell in the air is making his stomach cry out.
One step at a time Case, his master's voice chimes in his head as his feet touch the floor, his hands fumbling around a nearby pole to keep his shaking knees steady. He heads out the door, following the sounds and the scents of the new world, one step closer to the future he now barrels towards.
He rounds the corner to a kitchen, full of voices, of warm fresh foods he doesn’t know, of bruised and tired faces who beam and beckon him to join in.
Welcome home, Casey Jones.
167 notes · View notes
vintagesimstress · 9 months ago
Text
Don't you just hate it when you're trying to write a dialogue-heavy scene and to not get lost you have it all nicely planned out, either on paper/screen or at least in your head, but then you suddenly hear your characters say things which weren't planned at all and you think 'hey, that's actually good, let's write it down', and the whole convo goes into a completely different direction and you either need another 500 words to arrive at the line they were supposed to say or you never even arrive there at all...?
20 notes · View notes
dangaer · 2 months ago
Text
great news is that after panicking me for half the week, our insurance has now confirmed my room isn't an asbestos risk 😭
9 notes · View notes
viric-dreams · 9 months ago
Text
Trying to sleep whilst simultaneously letting some potential lore scenes for future writing/art run in the back of my mind produces some truly unsettling results.
Under no circumstances would Roberts be court martialed for treason. Officer Beverley seems to understand this, but his logic is entirely backwards. Framed by the glow of the fireplace, Beverley leans back against the sole chair in his spartan lodgings and explains what he’s so sure is going to happen. If Roberts does not comply he intends to go to the London admiralty, to let them in on his missing time, the new player making waves in Anarchist circles, the lies at the foundation of his very existence. He seems to think that the Dark-Spectacled Admiral has the power to land him in political scandal.
His letters will never reach the Admiral. Roberts knows this with the same certainty that he knows the Dawn Machine burns in the Southwest. Beverley’s contact is the Voracious Diplomat. He’s trying to be cagey about it, but Roberts has seen the letterhead, shoved quickly into a drawer whenever they need the space on the desk to work. And the Diplomat would never let such a tidbit go to the Admiral, not when it’s worth so much more on Grand Geode.
Roberts was there for the Luminous Plot of ‘69. In fact, he had been the one to ensure that its perpetrators would never find a way to return from the slow boat, no trial, sham or otherwise. As he and the Commodore stood against the gunwhale and watched their cement-laden bodies sink into the Zee, the Commodore turned to him.
“You wouldn’t betray me, would you, Elias?”
The expression on his face is clouded, as if already playing through and wounded by the possibility in his mind. It feels like being thrown into ice water.
“Of course not, sir!”
The very idea is appalling. Surely the Commodore doesn’t truly believe it’s in the realm of the possible—not when the very idea makes his skin prickle. He’s the Commodore’s man, through and through, dedicated to both him and the Work.
The Commodore smiles, his golden eyes suddenly kind.
“That's what I thought. You wouldn’t do such a thing,” his hand reaches out to pat his shoulder, “Not from my most loyal midshipman.”
He can’t help but flush at the praise. Hopefully, the deck’s dim lighting covers it. But it hardly matters, for the Commodore turns away, gazing into the waves where they’d thrown the traitors not minutes ago. Roberts thinks the conversation is at its end when the Commodore starts again, eyes never leaving that fixed point on the Zee’s surface.
“If you did betray me, of course, I wouldn’t kill and feed you to the dawn flukes. That would be too easy of an end. Instead, I’d weld you into our smallest zub and ship you to Anthe. Who knows,” he shrugs, “you might just even have enough supplies to make it.”
He can’t breathe, his lungs are frozen in his chest. The image is all too real—trapped in that metal coffin, hardly able to move. Through the icy panic, all he can feel is the frantic hammering of his heart and the sharp twinge of the muscle of his left thigh, where the scarred skin puckers above it. The Commodore wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t. Right? He has to take a breath. He needs to respond. It’s been too long. His silence might be taken for suspicious.
“There’s no need for that, I assure you.” The words come out whole, though his voice is frailer than he’d like. The Commodore is studying him now. Roberts isn’t sure whether or not he can meet his gaze, what the Commodore might see on his face. After a moment the Commodore nods.
“I didn’t think so. But you never know.” With that, his mouth slides into a grin, demeanour changing like night and day. “We’d best get back soon. There’s work to be done back on base. I’ll alert the navigator.”
Roberts sees the hand coming soon enough to not flinch when it lands on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring shake, before the Commodore is off, already descending the ladder.
He takes a deep breath and steadies himself, chasing the claustrophobic phantasm from his mind. The Commodore is right—there’s work to be done.
Truth be told, he’s not entirely paying attention to the details of Beverley’s demands. He doesn’t have to, when he already knows he’ll agree to whatever he says. It’s clear as dawnlight what he must do. The Officer seems almost surprised by how easily Roberts acquiesces, but that surprise soon turns to barely-concealed delight as the scientific possibilities unfold before him. He’s already turned away from Roberts and back to the schematics, searching for a pen to record the newest thoughts.
It’s truly a shame, Roberts thinks, hand reaching behind him for the fireplace poker, to have to lose such a promising engineer. But treachery is something that the New Sequence cannot tolerate.
Beverley doesn’t even see it coming until the instant he brings the iron poker down across his skull.
18 notes · View notes
genekies · 4 months ago
Text
tag vent
Tumblr media
#i have to move back to my hometown due to a mistake. a misunderstanding. and being too trusting in others ideas#and my boyfriend is moving an hour away as well. neither of us have been able to get a car or license yet due to money and i dont know when#we can see eachother again after we both move. since we started dating weve been sleeping in the same bed because we were/are roommates#just being gone for the weekend in my hometown is hard because i cant stand to be here but its worse because hes not in my bed every night#ive grown so used to falling alseep in his arms that i dont know what to do at night. i dont feel safe without his arms holding me#ive never felt safe where ive lived before. ive never felt safe in a relationship. ive never felt loved for who i am. that was until him.#now i feel safe in our home. i feel safe in our relationship. i feel loved for who i am. and now we have to be so far apart.#ive done long distance before but this is going to hurt so much my cat loves him she is super cautious and scared around new people but#she loved him since the start. not to mention shes my esa so that really mattered to me. he wants to move with me but it isnt happening#he got definite housing an hour away for super cheap in a town where he knows everyone and i have possible in a town where im surrounded by#people i know but am terrified of. im scared to move back here but have no choice. unless i make that terrifying choice of going with him.#the apartment he is getting is a two bedroom. id only have a studio. hes offered for me to come but im scared to move that far away again#i want to be with him but im scared to move to a whole new town with him. i know hes an amazing guy but we'd be moving away from my friends#and family. i already have to move away from all my friends if i go back to my hometown but this would be a different story.#moving to a whole new town with a guy that i only started dating 2 months ago? like yes. i lived with him previously and knew him for longer#than we dated but im still scared. i think rightfully so. but still.#but there are some pros to moving with him. hometown has no music scene and his town does and thats really important to me.#we'd also be close to his family. but farther from mine. hed be around friends and id have none no matter where i go.#idk im just rambling but i really needed to vent. i lost my best friend recently to the point of them siding with strangers almost and they#helped them break and enter into the house to intimidate me and bf and then a few days later came with cops after saying repeatedly that#they were an anarchist and acab but only when they dont use them apparently. because i guess morals/values only matter when its convenient#im so tired though but i cant sleep so i might write some cringe poetry and try to chill out before going on a late night/early morning walk#tag vent#vent in tags
9 notes · View notes
francy-sketches · 6 months ago
Text
I'm gonna have to work on my final project non stop for like a month straight bc I procrastinated on it too much fuck my stupid baka life
#.txt#also I have to do a movie pitch for it bitch it's an amv with intentionally one dimensional characters 😭 tf do I even say about it#at least the characters are like. knockoff jaime and tommen so its almost like im drawing asoiaf fanart#unfortunately I've come to hate them. the knockoffs I mean#I wanna change the designs a bit so they dont resemble my blorbos as much. i think im gonna give the kid darker hair#ok well discount jaime just looks like him with 2 hands and a blue cape 💀and I cant change him atp#my worst mistake was giving him like. a solid metal skirt armor thing bc its a pain in the ass to animate#at the start of the year I had the most work done out of everyone how did this happen#its bc they started nitpicking the story and I kinda lost motivation to work on it lke this shit is stupid. and cringe#by they I mean the extra screenwriting teachers we had a couple lessons with which like. this is an animation course not a writing course#I'd get it if it was like. a full time school but we have 2 3 hour classes a week we dont have time for this shit man#ig my mistake was that my idea didn't start from the story it started from the song I wanted to make a cool music video for it#its not that the story is nonsensical or anything its just a very basic fairytale esque thing nothing groundbreaking#'but you're not SAYING anything with this' I'm not trying to omg just let me make my little amv :(#does everything need a plot twist or to subvert expectations is it not enough that it looks cool#there's a couple people who are worse off than me in terms of how much they've done but also theres a couple that are nearly done#looking at them like god I wish that were me.....#and also I think I accidentally overwrote a shot I worked on for 3 hours. killing myself#maybe I can restore a previous version but its on the school computer and the school is closed for a week so im not gonna know until then
15 notes · View notes
carnivalcarriondiscarded · 1 year ago
Text
hour 14 of taking a break from art for the sake of my tendons: i am Wailing and Keening and Scratching Forlornly At My Tablet
44 notes · View notes