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forever-rogue · 1 year ago

Note

A little hurt to comfort request

A wannabe groupie makes comments about rockstar!eddie girlfriend (aka reader maybe plus-size!reader) eddie ofc defends his lady. But then reader starts feeling insecure about her looks and body she thinks she isn’t good enough for him. But he reassures her that she is the only one for him.

AN | I hope this is okay! I feel like this would be me too, Eddie would be the best the best 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Rockstar!Eddie x PlusSized!Fem!Reader

Word Count | 4.1k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been no secret that you’d been dating Eddie Munson for close to a year now. The Eddie Munson. Sometimes it still felt like a dream, but then you'd wake up with him pulling you into his chest.

Life was…pretty fucking good. Or pretty fucking metal as Eddie liked to say.

You'd never thought twice about the fact that you were dating him, or rather that he had chosen you.

Not until, anyway, one night when you were at one of Corroded Coffin’s shows. It wasn’t odd for you to be there, but you usually watched from the front VIP area or remained backstage to watch everything. Today, something compelled you to go out in the thick of it all, to be with the crowd and experience it from a new angle.

You were walking in with Jeff’s wife, the two of you holding beers as you went to your seating area. A few curious glances were sent your way, almost as if the people recognized the two of you but just couldn’t quite place you. That was probably exactly what was going on; it was nice to retain some sense of anonymity.

The two of you siddled into your spots and you heard a burst of laughter coming from a few seats down. The noise was so loud and out of place that it caused you to look down the row. Much to your chagrin you found two women staring back at you, wicked smirks on their faces.

They were exactly the type of women you expected to be at a rock concert. Scantily dressed with large fake breasts, fake tans, bleached hair and too make-up. These were the type of women that you found after trying to get in with the boys. Groupies, and they were shameless about it.

You turned your attention back to Angela, but before you could fully do so, you heard a loud moo directed at you. Your breath caught in your throat as you heard them making very non-discreet and rude comments. They were directed at you, you knew that right away and they were making no point to hide it.

“Can you believe Eddie Munson is dating her?”

“She must be good at sucking dick because you know Eddie wouldn’t keep her around for anything else.”

“She’s clearly good at eating.”

“He could do so much better.”

“What a waste of space!”

“If you’re going to be a porker, you could at least try to look pretty.”

You felt tears prickling at the back of your eyes but tried to push away the feelings that were bubbling up. They were just words after all, they shouldn’t have any real effect on you, and yet…it was the worst feeling. Those girls were purposely being cruel and for no real reason. No reason other than the fact that they were jealous of the fact that you were dating Eddie.

Angela picked up on your sudden mood shift, and gently put her hand on your arm, “what’s wrong, babe?”

“Nothing,” you lied so quickly that it was clearly not true. A frown settled on her features but you shook your head, “really, it’s fine.”

You could see that she was looking past you and down the row where the two girls were standing, looking smug as can be, “was it them? Did they do something?”

“No - nothing,” you dropped your voice to what you hoped was only what she could hear so they didn’t make anything worse, “just felt a little odd for a few minutes. It’ll pass soon.”

“If you’re sure…” she was a good friend and would have done anything for you, just as you would for her. You took a sip of your beer and tried to put on what you thought would be a convincing smile.

“Of course!” you had never been more thankful for the band to come out and play. You watched the boys struck onto stage, Eddie looking every bit the showman. Your heart fluttered slightly at the sight of him, “c’mon let’s get this show started!”

It wasn't entirely enough to take your mind off everything, but at least you experienced the momentary happiness of getting Eddie on stage.

You tried to ignore the horrible girls that continued to make comments throughout the show. But it was fuckin’ hard.

Once the show ended, you allowed the crowd around you to disperse and leave, remaining behind so you could make your way backstage quietly. You really didn’t want to see or be around anyone else right now, especially not ones that were going to throw horrible comments at you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Once the crowd had thinned out, you followed Angela to the back of the stadium. At least you had the promise of getting to see Eddie soon. She was talking about something but you were only half listening. There were tons of people, girls and guys, hanging around the dressing rooms, trying to sneak their way inside. Luckily the security was good and they kept prying eyes and nosey nancies away.

The guards recognized both of you now and there wasn’t even a need to show your passes. Eddie must have somehow sensed your presence because he opened the door as soon as you were near it. His entire face lit up as soon as he saw you, the beautiful and brilliant smile making its appearance as he studied you. Before you could even say anything, his brows furrowed and eyes grew worried.

"What's wrong?" and you had to fight the fresh wave of tears that threatened to well up. He gently took your face in his hands as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

"N-nothing," you lied and he was able to see right through it. It was the soft look on his face that caused it all to be too much and the tears spilled over. Eddie's touch was nothing short of reverent as he wiped them away, "its nothing, I'm just being dumb."

"It's not nothing if it's making you feel this way," he insisted but you pulled out of his touch and ducked into his dressing room. Angela saw what was going on and walked over to Eddie, "what's going on?"

"There were girls," she explained, "sitting near us. They were making horrible and rude comments about her. Totally unnecessary and I think they really got to her."

"What the fuck-"

"Yeah," she nodded sadly, looking around to see who was hanging around. And, to no surprise at all, the girls were trying to sweet talk their way backstage. Angela grabbed his hand and pointed in their direction, "them! It was the two of them."

A furious look crossed his features as he pulled away from her. Despite the whole bad boy image, Eddie was really soft and kind. But this had brought up a while different type of emotion and Angela had never seen him so mad.

"Hey," he barked at the girls, who immediately pushed to get to him. Little did they know they were not going to like what he had to say to them. The one that had instigated everything came forward and batted her eyelashes at him.

"Hi Eddie-"

"Which one of you was talking shit about my girlfriend?" Their faces paled as they exchanged nervous looks. Eddie raised an eyebrow, "huh? Not so brave now, are we?"

"We didn't say anything mean," the other one lied, "we were just talking. She probably misunderstood."

"Bull-fucking-shit," he shook his head, curls bouncing widely, "I know your type, you're just rude to others for no reason. What did you think you were going to get out of being bitches?"

"Listen, we didn't do-"

"I know you did," he glared at them, "did you think we'd somehow break up and one of you had a chance with me? Are you that fucking stupid?"

"We didn't mean anything by it…"

"Well, that's lovely but you did what you did," he took a step back and shook his head at them, "you're never allowed at another Corroded Coffin show. I'll make sure of that. And if this ever happens and I get word of it, I won't be as nice. Clear?"

Neither of them managed to say anything, only nodding dumbly before turning around and practically running away. Eddie told his security to make sure to get their information so he could make sure they were banned from any future shows.

"You're a good man," Angela squeezed his shoulder before turning around to find Jeff.

Eddie took a deep breath before letting himself into his dressing room. His heart broke a little bit when he saw you sitting on the couch, eyes red from crying.

"Baby," he came over and sat down next to you, attempting to wrap his arm around your shoulders. You flinched out from under his touch and shook your head at him, hastily wiping away the rest of your half-dried tears. His heart ached; you’d never shied away from his touch before, “what’s wrong? Please just…tell me. Let me make it better. I talked to those girls-”

“It’s not…” you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed, “it’s not just them. It’s just…me.”

“You? How is it you?’ he crossed his arms over his chest, pale skin covered in various ink, “you know I’m not going to quit asking until you tell me. I’m a stubborn bastard, you know that.”

“Look at yourself,” you gestured to him and confusion marred his features as he looked at himself. He was still sweaty, in desperate need of a post show shower, only wearing a pair of skinny jeans and his beat up sneakers. He shrugged as you huffed, “now look at me.”

He looked you over, the same look as always in his eyes. You were gorgeous and he honestly had no clue what you were going on about, “umm…baby, you’re beautiful. You know that.”

“No,” you stood up and shook your head, “I’m…fuck, Eddie, you have eyes, I’m not skinny and I don’t look like all those other girls who throw themselves at you. I’m-”

“Fuck that,” he shook his head, “so what? I love that you don’t look like any of them, I don’t want them - I want you. I love you, baby, all of you.”

“You could have someone better,” you turned your back to him and hid your face in your hands. Eddie didn’t even know how to possibly respond because you were so wrong - so wrong, “someone that looks good like you and that deserves you.”

“I don’t know how else to tell you this, but I don’t want anyone else but you,” Eddie’s hands found your shoulders as he gently turned you around, so he could properly look at you. He put a finger under your chin and turned your face up to his. He hated seeing you cry and even more he hated the idea that you could ever think so lowly of yourself. You were everything to him and he wished he could make you understand that, “only you. You’re it for me, baby.”

You knew Eddie, and you knew that he wasn’t lying to you. But it still didn’t help the feelings of self-doubt and worthlessness that was settling into the back of your mind. Instead of arguing with him or pushing the issue further all you could do was nod in response, “me too, Eddie. You’re it for me too.”

He relaxed slightly before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Despite Eddie’s reassurances, the run in at his show stuck with you. You weren’t able to completely shake off the feelings that those cruel words had brought up. Despite trying to hide them and pretending that they weren’t there in order to trick yourself into letting them go, nothing worked. Instead, it just kept getting worse and worse and you found yourself drifting apart from Eddie.

You felt like you were suddenly aware of every single time someone else looked at him, or read too much into everything that was said to him. You couldn’t help but think that he deserved someone better, someone different - someone that wasn’t you. You wanted only the best for the man you loved so much.

That’s how you made the hardest decision of your life.

Eddie practically bounded to the door when he heard the silly little knock that the two of you had come up with. He wasn’t expecting you, but he was always more than happy to see you. He threw open the door, ready to wrap you up in his arms.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the somber expression on your face. You caught his eye for just a moment, looking away and staring at your feet, “h-hey.”

“What’s wrong?” of course he dove right into it; not that you could blame him. If the roles were reversed, you’d probably be doing the same thing, “baby?”

“L-listen,” you swallowed thickly, “I’m sorry to do this so late, but umm…I think - I think we should break up.”

“What?” his doe eyes grew wide as you rocked back and forth on your heels before stepping back from him. Eddie ran a hand through his dark curls, trying to rationalize why you were suddenly breaking up with him. He never once thought about the two of you breaking up; in his mind it was forever, and that’s what he had always planned on, “what are you talking about?”

“I’m breaking up with you,” your words caught in your throat and it sounded even more harsh and choked. This time you hadn’t even bothered to hold back your tears, instead they fell down your cheeks and landed onto the marble of the apartment building’s floor, “I can’t date you anymore, Eddie.”

Eddie was a smart man; it didn’t take him long to put two and two together. He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his tired face, “can’t date me or won’t date me?”

“What’s the difference?” you threw up your hands in exasperation.

“You know what it is,” you groaned. You loved his tenacity but right now you just wished he’d accept what you were saying, “either way, Eddie, this is over.”

“Baby,” he tried to grab your arms but you just pulled away, “baby. Is this about what happened a few weeks ago?”

“No,” the blatant lie was obvious, “I just…I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

“Give me one good reason,” he asked, some desperation creeping into his voice despite how cool he was trying to play it, “give me one good reason why we can’t be together.”

You looked at him, squarely in the face, “I don’t love you.”

And that, those four simple words, cut deeper than anything he would have expected. He knew - or at least desperately hoped - that you were lying to him. Right? Right? The last three years you’d spent together couldn’t all have been a lie, surely. The love you said was real…it couldn’t just have been pretend. That might have actually killed him.

“That’s a lie,” he said through gritted teeth as you shrugged at him, “please, wait, I…we can talk about this and figure it out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” your voice was barely audible as you created an even larger distance between the two of you, “it’s done.”

Eddie watched silently as you walked towards the elevator. When you stepped inside you turned around so you could face him before pressing the button for the lobby.

“I’m sorry,” was the last thing he heard you say before the doors closed, “I’m sorry.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It felt like an eternity since you’d last seen Eddie. In reality, it had only been four months, but it felt like the longest time in your life. Every day without him felt achingly long and dreadful. The fact that he was famous and you had to see him in magazines, on TV, in advertisements and posters didn’t help. In some ways it was a small comfort getting to see him, but it also made your heart ache more for him.

You had been tempted to go to his apartment and explain and try and work it out but you stopped yourself. All of this was because of you; and now you had to live with the consequences of your actions. The fact that he was on tour again helped your dilemma slightly - he wasn’t going to be home.

Even if you were miserable, you hoped that he would be happy. He would find someone that was worthy of his love and that matched him as best as possible. Someone that wasn’t you. Maybe one day you would have your turn too…maybe.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You groaned as you heard knocking at the door. You set down your glass with a huff before pausing the movie you were watching. You’d already gotten the pizza you ordered and had no clue what this could have been. Whatever it i was, it better have been worth getting off the couch.

“Hang on,” you called out before opening the door; you didn’t even bother to look to see who it was before opening, “what?”

“Hi,” and there stood Eddie Munson. A small, tired half smile was on his face; he looked like he’d just come from a show, that similar glow on his face, “h-hi there.”

“Eddie?” you asked softly as though it wasn’t obvious that he was standing right there in your hallway. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before leaning against the doorframe in disbelief, “w-what are you doing here?”

“I was just in the neighborhood-”

“Bullshit,” you cut him off softly, “you’ve been on tour. I thought your last show was tomorrow night?”

“Still keeping track, huh?” he teased as warmth crept into your cheeks before offering him a single affirmative nod, "the last show was umm…tomorrow but I just…I wanted to see…you."

"Me?" You pointed at yourself and he nodded with a smile, "why? After everything I said and did. I was awful to you."

"It wasn't you," he stated simply, "I mean it was you but it was…circumstances."

"Eddie-"

"Can I come in?" You stepped to the side and motioned for him to come in. Once inside, he took a look around the familiar space, feeling more at home than he had in a long time. You went into the living room and plopped on the couch. He sat down on the other end, keeping a bit of distance between your bodies, "so…"

"What are you doing here, Eddie?" you allowed yourself one little look at his face. He looked tired and run down, but there was an expression of fierce determination on his face.

"I'm here to see you," he was never one to beat around the bush, "and I guess…asking you to take me back."

Your tummy erupted in butterflies and your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. You turned to him, "I - what…you want me to take you back?"

"It's been four months and everyday has fucking sucked," he admitted, letting out a shaky little exhale, "and its because you're not there. I…my life isn't complete without you."

"But…I," he really had to go and be the best man ever. You smiled softly at him, "why would you want to be with me?"

"Are you kidding me?" He sounded offended, as though the answer was so obvious. To him it was obvious - you were everything to him. You looked at him, searching his pretty brown eyes, "babe, I'm in love with you. Everything about you, I'm so fucking in love with you it scares me some times. I don't want anyone but you. Like ever."

"But…"

"But what?" He asked gently as you searched for the right words, "tell me, baby."

"You deserve better."

"Why?"

"'cause," you shrugged him off but he wasn't going to have it.

"Nuh uh," he moved even closer and reached for your hand, "I'm not going to let it go until you give me a real answer."

"Look at me, Eddie!" You hung your head before sighing heavily, "I'm not skinny and pretty like all those other girls! You could have any and every single one of them. They'd be so much better for you and they'd be more like you. You'd have someone that deserves you."

"Is that what…baby, is that what this has been about?" He had his light bulb moment but it was a harsh reality. This was still bugging you for so long and he hadn't even realized, "you should have…fuck, I'm so sorry I didn't realize."

"It's not like you can fix anything," you wiped at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater, "I am what I am and I don't want to feel like I'm holding you back."

"Fuck that," he shook his head, "I barely deserve you, you're so much…you're everything. I know you don't look like some of those other girls, but so what? You're gorgeous, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I don't want anyone else."

"What if you change your mind one day?"

"I hate to break it to you, but that's never going to happen," he promised, "I love you and that's it. Nothing else matters. If anyone has anything to say, fuck 'em. They don't matter."

"Eddie…"

"Here," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, holding it out to you. You raised an eyebrow but took it gently and opened. Staring back at you was a beautiful diamond ring. Your mouth dropped open in surprise as you looked at him, "yeah. I was, ugh, I was actually planning on asking you before you broke up with me."

"You were going to ask me to marry you?" Your voice cracked as you came to the realization that he really was in it forever. Not that you had any reason to ever doubt him, it was the voices in your head that grew too loud.

"Yeah," he whispered, his own throat thick with emotion, "I just…I wanted you to know."

"I'm sorry," you closed the box and handed it back to him slowly, "really, Eddie. I went and fucked things up."

"No, you didn't," he promised, touching your cheek, "your feelings are valid. Even though I don't agree with how you've been feeling about yourself. It also makes me mad that those girls, or anyone, would ever say something like that about anyone else. It's immature and just shows their own insecurities."

"Thank you," you put your hand on his wrist and squeezed gently, "you're the best, I hope you know that."

"I do," there was a playful little smile on his face, "because there's this amazing woman that constantly reminds me of that."

"You silly man," you couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled, "someone is going to be very lucky to have you one day."

"Yeah, I sure hope so," he snorted in amusement, "and I hope it's you."

"Me?!"

"Of course," he was beaming at you and it was enough to make your entire body feel like jelly, "did you really think you were just going to get rid of me like that?"

"I should have known better," your heart felt lighter than it had in months, "you're a stubborn man, Eddie Munson."

"Maybe so," he traced his fingers along your jaw and down your neck, "I'm also stubborn enough to think that you might still marry me."

"I think that might be something that could happen," and yeah, you were definitely and madly in love with this man, "its definitely in the cards."

"Hmm," he mused gently, "well, it's getting pretty late…I guess I should get going."

"Stay," you held onto his arm and kept him anchored towards you, "stay."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," you nodded, never more sure than anything else, "please."

"I love you, baby. So much."

"I love you too, Eddie. So, so much."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #rockstar!eddie #joseph quinn #plus size reader

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imnayeonjaem · 2 months ago

Text

nice to see (right through) you again (teaser) | s.mg

"a light, airy rumble seemed to filter through the air. had the ghost just.. laughed?"

minors dni. ageless blogs dni. blank blogs dni. you'll be blocked. character(s): gn!reader, song mingi teaser tags: ghost!mingi, librarian!reader, explicit language, suspense, flashback word count: 1.2k summary: at the end of your late shift, mysterious paranormal activity begins to happen as you clean up the library.. but who is responsible? a/n: so this is the first part of a flashback which shows how reader and mingi first met three years prior to the present day. if you're interested in reading the main one-shot once released, and you'd like to be tagged, please leave a reply or send an ask! i plan to get the whole one-shot out before or on halloween! note: if you're a minor or have no indication of age, you will not be added.

“Quite an atypical evening, huh?”

“Well, it’s not every day a ghost pays a visit to your library.”

×-×

The library you worked at was open until 8pm every Thursday, and you always had the job of locking up. You didn’t mind it one bit, often savouring the quiet that the hour alone gave you once your colleague departed.

But the hour wasn’t so quiet, as fifteen minutes into you rearranging the books back to their appropriate places and dusting the shelves, a lamp mysteriously fell off one of the desks and crashed on the floor.

You’re at least thankful you were only holding a cloth.

Upon inspection, the bulb in the lamp hadn’t broken - thank God - but you replaced it on the desk with a heightened wariness. None of the windows were open, and even if they were, it wasn’t like the wind was going to be strong enough to knock a whole lamp over.

Personally, you were only semi-superstitious. While cosying up with a good ghost story was one of your favourite pastimes, and you found the history of haunted places to be incredibly fascinating, you’d never wager that anything paranormal would happen to you. Besides, the library didn’t have a history of being haunted, and none of your colleagues had ever reported mysterious activity worthy of investigation by ghost hunters or, in the extreme cases, expulsion from a priest.

Shaking your head, you adjust the lamp on the desk to make sure it doesn’t fall over again, and rationalise that it had probably been on the edge of the desk. Someone had accidentally jolted it and not realised its precarious position. No bother. At least it wasn’t broken.

You returned to your task; the incident had knocked five precious minutes of your time off, so you hurried around the ground floor of the library, making quick work of the shelves and the desks. You were now especially careful around the lamps, not wanting to actually break one.

A few moments later, there was a loud thump behind you.

Startled at the sudden noise, you swiftly pivoted on the spot to find three books had been knocked onto the floor.

Okay, you thought, what the hell is going on?

There was no way those books could have fallen off the shelves unless someone purposely threw them.

Moments later, you watched as another book protruded from the shelf. The motion was akin to being pulled, as though there was an invisible person looking for a book to read.

You couldn’t believe you were actually considering the possibility of there being a ghost in your library. What exactly did this ghost want? Could you rationalise trying to communicate with them?

Your mouth parted open and you uttered a noise, and the book immediately fell on the floor, causing you to jump back.

“Whoa- um..” You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried again. “H-Hello? Is there anyone there?” A sigh escaped you; what were you doing? Your eyes briefly looked askance at the clock on the wall. Time was running out and you still had an entire upper floor to clean. All you needed to do was pick the books up off the floor, replace them on their shelves and get back to it.

So why were you frozen in place, bound to the possibility of an actual ghost standing just a few metres from you?

Inch by inch, you crept forward, hoping that maybe if there was a ghost, they would understand that you weren’t exactly frightened or upset with them, you just wanted to talk, or at the very least, help them with whatever they needed, be it anything at all.

It wasn’t lost on you that trying to broach communication with a semi-corporeal stranger who was likely centuries old was probably a waste of time. Not only that, but if you did manage it, it would be incredibly difficult to explain to your colleagues the next time you saw them. It wouldn’t exactly be news for the group chat.

As you stumbled forward towards the shelves with the missing books, you briefly looked down to see that they hadn’t fallen very neatly. It was almost more surprising; had they fallen too neatly it would at least explain the bizarre, paranormal nature of the event.

It wasn’t long before you started to notice just how cold the room had become. Maybe it hadn’t stood out to you before, but you suddenly had the urge to wrap your arms around yourself and when you next exhaled, a distinct cloud left your lips.

Cold room, objects mysteriously falling off of surfaces.. you’re shocked that the ghost hadn’t tampered with the lights yet.

Just then, a light flickered above you.

“Shit..” you muttered under your breath. These things were all very typical of the books you liked to read around this time of year, what with it being October and the perfect season to do so. Perhaps you’d read one too many in the last month or so.

Your cool demeanour faltered even further when another book came flying off the shelf. You were close enough by that point to actually see what the subject of the books were; to your shock, none of these books were ghost stories, and in the bleary haze of being substantially rattled by this situation, you almost forgot that you were actually standing by the poetry section.

You wrapped your cardigan around your body and sighed. “Alright, enough games, who are you and what do you want?”

You found yourself defaulting back to the style of address you’d seen in movies and ghost hunting TV shows. In all fairness, confronting a presence from beyond the grave that had found a way to set foot in the mortal realm turned out to be horrifying.

The ghost seemed to be in fairly low spirits; you weren’t sure how you knew, but something about the way they interacted with the world made you believe they were in a bad mood. Deep breath in, deep breath out. You had to approach this from a different angle.

Crouching to the floor, you picked up the last book that was pulled off the shelves and stood straight. This was a recent addition to the collection, you remember adding it to the shelf a few weeks ago: a poetry collection by Edgar Allan Poe.

“You like Poe?” You froze for a second. “Wait.. are you Edgar Allan Poe?” The question came out half-jokingly, like you couldn’t believe the Allan Poe would be haunting the quaint library you worked at.

A light, airy rumble seemed to filter through the air. Had the ghost just.. laughed?

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.” You flicked through the collection. You liked Edgar’s poems enough, though skimming through this particular anthology put you back in the lecture halls and the library of your university, where you’d analyse his and others’ poems with a fine toothed comb until your brain hurt.

You placed the book flat on the shelf and went to pick up the other three. They were all collections from Poe.

“Wow, you really like his poems, huh?” You chuckled to yourself, then replaced all four books back to their original places.

For how cold the room was a few minutes ago, you were gradually starting to notice it less and less.

Folding your arms, you turned back to the general area where you thought the ghost might be, but it wasn’t like you’d ever be sure of that.

Not unless they revealed themselves.

× silverdune (ave). do not repost. ×

#ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #mingi scenarios #mingi imagines #ateez x reader #mingi x reader #ateez au #ateez fanfic #words.(ave)#fic: nice to see right through you again

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firstfirerebel · 8 months ago

Text

𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕠𝕣

Sumary: When Levi was forced to join the Survey Squad, he left someone behind, someone who had grown to hate him since then...

(Levi was forced to join the Survey Squad by Erwin, that's also why I don't like the ship Eruri [I love both, but together it's just toxic])

Pairing: Levi x fem! Reader

Warnings: Mention of abusive childhood, many traumas (bullying, mental abuse,...), angst, hurt

Years have passed since you last saw him. The guy you grew up with, and the guy who betrayed you.

Growing up was hard for both of you. You had more luck with the standard of the family, but still, your life was hard. Being the kid of two people who hated each other and only communicated by yelling and fighting wasn't exactly a good place for a child.

People around you always found something to mock and bully you. Kids your age were the worst. Except for him, you met Levi when you were forced to go to a club with your so-called father.

He never stopped drinking, so you just went to search for a silent corner to wait till this horror was over. But the only place that was at least a little bit calm was occupied with a dark-haired slim boy.

"Family problems?", you asked him.

"Something like that," he awnserd, and you silently walked towards and sat beside him.

"Wanna talk?,"

He shook his head for a 'No', which you totally got. You also wouldn't want to tell a literal stranger your deepest and darkest secrets, but on the other hand, letting it out would be better. It seemed like your whole life purpose was to hold the burdens of your family, no matter if you could take it or not.

"What's your name? I'm (Y/n). My siblings wanted that to be my name. It's ugly. I know,"

"Levi," he awnserd short and quietly.

"You know, my father is a lot here. It would be nice to have someone here I could spend my time with. Would you mind?",

He just blinked, which you got as a sign that he didn't care. But you weren't someone to give up just like that. Otherwise, you might have never managed to survive.

Breaking the ice was hard when it came to this boy, but after a few times of being there, he even told you that he actually liked your name and thought it was pretty. A little while after that, you caught him crying because some neighbor kids made fun of him (this was before his mother died, so he didn't know how to defend himself cause no Kenny). Those weren't new for you. They also constantly mocked you.

"Hey! Three against one? You're cowards!" After you managed to distract them from Levi, you tricked them into believing you went home when you really went to search for your friend.

You found him leaning onto a brick wall and sat beside him in silence.

"Thanks, but why did you do that?",

"Because it's OK if they make fun of me, but not if they make fun of my friends. I don't care what they do to me. I look out for you. And I know you look out for me. That's what friends are there for,"

Since that incident, nothing parted you guys. You even switched your birth necklaces to show that you were connected. But everything good must come to an end.

When his mother died, you didn't see him for weeks, so when you went to look for him, you met his uncle Kenny. You both pep him up again, and since your family didn't care about you, you decided to be with Levi since he needed someone after losing his mother.

Kenny taught you how to defend and provide for yourself, but that was it. He left you when you had learned it all.

"Even if he's gone now, we still have each other. Nothing really bad can happen to us as long as we have each other,"

It was you. Always you. You were the one who comforted him when he had to deal with shit. You were there for him to fix what society broke. And even after you allied with others, you two were the closest. No one could come in between.

That's what you thought.

After your team took Isabel in, you thought it would only become better. She even called Levi, her big brother, to his annoyance. It was like a sting right to your heart. But Isa didn't know what you both had gone through together, so you felt guilty of feeling this way. Besides her seeing him like her brother, didn't mean you were replaced! Your bond was stronger than that of siblings or lovers. Once you swore to never let anything part you, you'd never be separated, never.

Until one order changed everything.

You thought it was the Military Squad, but nope, it was the Survey Squad. You were the only one who managed to get away. But you watched from a distance how a soldier pushed Levi into a puddle of mud that had the consistency of water. Hell for him...

But when you went to go closer to hear what they were saying. You only heard Levis annoyed:"I'll join the Survey Squad."

A punch into your guts. He'd leave the underground. He'd leave you! Breaking the promise HE made you. And for joining a squad?!

You weren't someone who cried. When your whole body was covered in bruises because of a fight that didn't go as planned, no tear. Your family yelling and insulting you, no sob. But now your eyes became watery, and your vision blurry. It felt as if you were suffocated. Breathing was almost impossible.

As if the whole ground you believed to be steady and safe just tore open to devour you.

No, you wouldn't cry! Not because of him and especially not while still seeing him.

A few weeks after that, you luckily met Kenny again. It was more like he found you.

Since that scene, it was like you had to go through every trauma you experienced again, but this time on your own without someone at your side. Kenny told you of his new job at the Military Squad and that he could need a tough girl like you.

Training and years in hiding. That was your whole life from then on. With nothing on your mind, then to finally throw this damn birth necklace of him away. It was your kind of connection, your bond, after all.

Allying with the man that once left you and him. Just to tell humanitys strongest soldier one thing.

And finally, the day came. The Survey Squad decided to turn against the Military Squad. And that was your and Kenny's time.

Fighting your way to his side, just to slowly rip his birth necklace off your neck, look at him with disgust, and throw it into a mud puddle before his feet. With one word on your lips.

"Traitor"

#levi ackerman #reader insert #x reader #fanfic #dark themes #trauma #levi aot #levi x reader #levi x fem!reader #aot x reader #aot x female reader

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echo-goes-mmm · 10 months ago

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Moonflower #9

Masterpost

Warnings: mild disordered eating

Only a few hours into the night, Kit woke up hungry.

He had noticed that humans ate less than fae, but he’d gotten used to nothing at all. He thought he could manage on a light diet, but Kit had not seen luck for over a year.

He got out of bed, picking up his discarded clothes.

Mistress had said he could eat when he needed to, and Kit’s stomach felt empty and demanding.

He didn’t want to wake anyone. Kit was lower than a servant; he had no right to ask anything of the staff. And they might talk.

Kit stepped out into the hall.

Sir Maxus and a lady knight stood outside Iris’s door, dressed in leather armor.

“Where’re you going?” asked Maxus.

Kit hesitated. “The kitchen,” he admitted.

“I’ll walk you over.”

The silence was uneasy and awkward.

Kit at least knew that Brennan:

1. Didn’t trust or like him

And

2. Was very loyal to Iris

He didn’t know anything about Maxus, who was only behind Brennan in how often he was assigned to the queen.

“So…” said Maxus, “do fae have knights too?”

“I suppose. It’s not exactly the same duties, but the Prince has knights.”

“Prince? No king or queen?”

Kit shrugged. “Not for a long time.”

“Oh.”

The torches on the wall sconces danced, casting warm light out into the hall. The castle was quiet and still, and Kit looked out the windows to see the stars.

The kitchen was just as silent, and Maxus leaned against a counter, watching.

Kit rifled through the storage. He found a cut of meat, wrapped up and fresh, and it made his mouth water. It was just one of many similar cuts, and they wouldn’t miss it, right?

There were berries in a jar, and the best find was a covered pitcher of heavy cream chilled in the dairy.

Kit poured some cream into a ceramic cup before putting the pitcher back.

He didn’t bother with cooking, or finding cutlery, instead tearing off strips of meat and eating it raw.

He savored each bite. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that he was eating after a hunt, in peace. At home.

But Maxus’s presence ruined the illusion.

Kit shook out the berries into the palm of his hand, and he ate the whole pint.

He slowly sipped at the cream, until it was gone.

Kit wiped the juices of the meat off the marble counter, and washed the cup and jar as best as he could.

Maxus walked him back to the royal wing without comment.

___________________

Iris didn’t say anything in the morning. He half expected Sir Brennan to confront him, but it seemed Maxus didn’t report his midnight meal.

Kit decided not to mention it to his Mistress. She had given him permission to eat, after all. Plus, Iris was so busy with other things and thoughts; she didn’t need more to worry about.

Especially something unusual that could cause gossip.

___________________

The next night, he woke up hungry again.

Maybe it was a good sign that his appetite was returning in full swing. He didn’t even get dizzy in the kitchen the night before.

Maxus and the lady knight were stationed in the hall again.

Sir Maxus walked Kit to the kitchen.

“Aren’t you eating enough during the day?” he asked as Kit tucked into a loaf of bread, cheese, and more delicious cream.

Kit put down the cup.

“I- I mean, I’m not judging or anything, I’m just wondering. You look really hungry.”

Kit looked away, fidgeting.

“Is the appetite a fae thing?” Maxus asked gently. “You guys eat more than we do?”

Kit nodded, his ears turning pink. He didn’t want to say it out loud. He was a foreigner, and even though mortals were just as strange to him as he was to them, it was unwise to draw attention.

He was at their mercy, after all. He was a slave.

“Maybe you should talk to Christine? To get bigger portions or something?”

Kit shook his head. He knew Iris’s aunt already judged him for declining wine, and someone had put salt in his food. Either on purpose, or an accident, it didn’t matter. Mortals just did food differently, and he was the outlier.

He imagined the looks he’d get if his plate had twice the amount of the people sitting next to him.

“It would embarrass my Mistress,” he whispered, unwilling to break the serene quiet of the kitchen.

“If you say so,” said Maxus, unconvinced. “Still, just… write Chef a note or something, so she doesn’t wonder about the missing stuff.”

Kit nodded. “Yes, sir.” He could do that.

They walked back after Kit cleaned up, in silence.

___________________

“You’re looking better,” commented Iris the next morning.

“Hm?”

She gestured to his face as she ate her toast.

“You have some color in your cheeks. That’s good, right?”

“Oh. Yes.”

He did feel better. It was small, almost unnoticeable, but he didn’t feel so bad when he got up in the morning. Magic was still out of reach, but it would surely come soon.

Kit picked at the crumbs on his plate. He eyed the small pitcher of cream that came with the coffee pot on the breakfast cart.

Mistress left to do her makeup, and Kit waited until she was out of the room to drink it down.

He snuck a spoonful of sugar, the only thing better than cream, and a thought hit him.

He was keeping secrets, wasn’t he?

Even if it was just the hunger in his belly, it was something he was keeping from Iris.

The deal demanded loyalty. Painfully vague.

What was loyalty to the deal? Could he even stay quiet about this? Would the deal’s magic force him to reveal it?

He wished he was in the position to negotiate when he accepted the terms.

“Ready to go?” asked Mistress.

Kit nodded.

There wasn’t a painful jolt of magic, or a strong compulsion to blurt out his secret, but a warning pricked at the back of his mind.

The deal’s magic had decided it wasn’t betrayal. Probably because he had permission to eat, and Iris hadn’t told him to tell her when he ate.

Still. He was on thin ice.

Kit bit his lip as they passed the royal portraits on the wall.

Maybe he’d tell her. Eventually.

taglist: @paintedpigeon1 @cupcakes-and-pain @loserwithsyle @cepheusgalaxy @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @virtualbreadtale

#if you're wondering: Brennan is day shift and Maxus is night #Not always but usually #when there's a lot going on scheduled in court both of them will show up #and they sometimes switch shifts if something comes up in their personal lives #and they do get days off and vacations #but theyre very much in Iris's inner circle of guards #my writing #whump #slavery whump #moonflower series #fae whumpee #royal caretaker

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wumblr · 6 months ago

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Armed conflicts have indirect health implications beyond the direct harm from violence. Even if the conflict ends immediately, there will continue to be many indirect deaths in the coming months and years from causes such as reproductive, communicable, and non-communicable diseases. The total death toll is expected to be large given the intensity of this conflict; destroyed health-care infrastructure; severe shortages of food, water, and shelter; the population's inability to flee to safe places; and the loss of funding to UNRWA, one of the very few humanitarian organisations still active in the Gaza Strip. In recent conflicts, such indirect deaths range from three to 15 times the number of direct deaths. Applying a conservative estimate of four indirect deaths per one direct death to the 37 396 deaths reported, it is not implausible to estimate that up to 186 000 or even more deaths could be attributable to the current conflict in Gaza. Using the 2022 Gaza Strip population estimate of 2 375 259, this would translate to 7.9% of the total population in the Gaza Strip.

i've seen maybe a dozen posts about this but none directly linking to the lancet study, explaining their methodology, or acknowledging that they specified a range: 3-15 times the death toll published by the gaza ministry of health

the 186,000 figure is a conservative estimate (and it should be 187,000 because 5 * 37,396 is 186,980)

the range is 112,000 to 561,000

there's the 7.9% estimate, which would represent about 1,270 deaths per day since the approximate end of published data (march, unless the health ministry has issued information i don't know about)

this is compared to covid death toll in the US because i believe we're all familiar with the way 0.36% population loss translates to "just about everyone knows at least one person who died" (i knew multiple, but let's oversimplify to assume 0.36% means everybody knew exactly one, for comparative purposes)

to put gaza's numbers in the same perspective, just about everyone who has survived this far must have known maybe 22 people who died (the true statistics of how people know each other, and how likely relationships are between them, are obviously much more complicated, but 7.9% is 22 times 0.36%)

here's the upper range of the estimate (561,000, 23.6%, 4,830 deaths per day, or every survivor likely knew 65 people who died). sorry for the clumsy graph, error bars were the quickest way to represent this

for what it's worth, i think they are correct to describe the "conservative" 5x estimate as "not implausible"

for the available data, daily totals only surpassed 500/day once (oct 17th), and the available numbers put them closer to 100-200 per day over the ten months of the war. extrapolating that to today would give closer to 60,000 deaths -- but these only count direct deaths, and largely identified bodies that have been found (30% unidentified, according to the lancet)

what i think is likeliest, is of course, that the rate of death has been steaily accelerating as famine and disease take their toll (as in, the daily number of deaths increases from 100-500 to 1,000-4,000 over the past 100 days, with some of these also being previously unrecorded, unknown, undiscovered bodies during the term of known data)

so, 60,000 is about the rock-bottom minimum for direct deaths, 112,000 is the rock-bottom minimum when including estimates for indirect deaths. the plausible maximum for both direct and indirect deaths based on similar conflicts is 561,000 and the reasonable estimate is 187,000

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ludinusdaleth · 8 months ago

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Just wondering, since you seem to like Devexian a lot. With what little weve seen of him do you think he'll side with Ludinus?

to be entirely clear, i am just guessing based on his very few scenes and could be very wrong, but as someone who has analyzed those scenes obsessively for 3 years now.... i really dont think he will.

i do not know if he agreed with the aeorian belief in being equal to or better than gods - he certainly seems proud of his aeormaton heritage, based on, of course, his actions in c3, as well as the strength & boasting of his voice when he said "i was created [...] through intellect, through power". it is implied he was aligned with an aeorian named brashaar, a politician who was hated by the populace (per a speak with dead spell) for leading them astray. but he also seemed tiredly accepting that the gods struck down his city. the way he discusses it sounds exactly like anyone talking about their own country in 2024 - resigned, opinionated but saying it bluntly. he was quick to resort to a contingency plan he had formulated which implies he fully expected the gods to destroy all he knew, fully aware of his city's path to destruction. ludinus for one reason or another views the age of arcanum with beautiful rose gold glasses; from his very first moments we are aware devexian doesnt.

he is not awakening just any aeorian, at least as far as we know - even when there are multiple cures to the time bubbles in aeor. he is focused on rebuilding his robot brethren. and even then he is not giving them a goal. he did not intend to create a stereotypical vengeful robot army; he wishes for his people to find their own paths, with such a light touch in influencing them that fcg & frida are lost in a lack of context for themselves, unaware of what aeor stood for, initially unaware of their people's own fight for personhood. he is not walking a path of revenge like ludinus is; matt said in the c2 wrapup he is in fact "doing great" and has found a peaceful kind of purpose. ludinus's intense, voracious plans to slaughter the gods by reenacting what caused aeor's fall is something i assume would be a nightmare scenario to devexian who seems to have removed himself & his people utterly from that trauma. i do not remotely think he would like the gods - i assume he holds a controlled simmering anger prone to knife jabs of bitterness, similar to frida's, based on his snark - but he does care about his people being able to live freely. to be reborn only to be cast into exactly the same circumstances that led to your people's complete demise might make you race to action more than a past you could leave behind.

#im awaiting more context for the 2 but im very confident the difference between lud & dev is largely privelege #long post #critical role meta #critical role #campaign 3 #campaign 2 #devexian #ludinus da'leth #aeor

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nayvwriter · 7 months ago

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Primordial Tyrants headcanons

Lore headcanons I have about the Primordial Tyrants that go in my fics unless there's some reason it won't work. N1 and NE spoilers, but mostly N1-based.

Their human forms are mostly subconscious.

Details can change, accidentally or on purpose, but stuff like broad skin and hair colour tends to stay the same, unchangeable.

Metta's the only one who figured out how to choose his form completely

Deena's human form changed completely once, when she switched to the human side.

She used to have pink hair.

Similarly, their Nexomon forms have differences that vary over time.

Thus explaining their slightly different appearances in the games.

It's a subconscious reflection of themselves, kinda.

Possibly Metta can shapeshift this too. Undecided.

Zetta can move really fast in his human form. None of the others can do this at the moment.

Zetta thinks they could do it if he taught them how (and they bothered to learn), he doesn't think it's just a him thing.

this may or may not be true

I have a few theories on how exactly this works.

Omnicron can give out an influence on nearby Nexomon.

This influence can be countered by another, similar influence.

Nara is the only one who's figured out how to do this.

and has deliberately refrained from telling her siblings how until she's sure they won't pull an Omnicron.

This was her role in N1! And during the first death of Omnicron, too.

Metta never died the first time around, he just couldn't be found.

hence why he's around in N1 to cause trouble.

Metta can use the powers of all the other CoO, though not as well.

Including Nara's life powers – that's part of how he brought everyone back in N1.

Their human names they chose themselves.

Deena, Fenrir, Nadine, Merida and Zetta picked one human name and stuck with it over thousands of years.

Metta changed human name with every new form he took, and didn't really have a true one.

My headcanon for Grunda changes per fic.

Omnicron never took a human form.

He probably could have done, but he never did.

He was dismissive of his children doing so, but didn't actually stop them as long as they still worked towards his mission.

Omnicron was a terrible father.

Definitely emotionally abusive.

Probably physically abusive too.

Literally only cared about his children as tools to win his war.

It took a while for said children to realise this wasn't normal or good.

possibly until Grunda starts interacting with a lot of children regularly.

Arqua can take her Nexomon form outside of the water, but it's uncomfortable and she's not nearly as powerful.

This was sort of how she got defeated first time.

Ventra likes air with lots of oxygen in.

hence why we found her in a tree.

She lets Luxa have the high can't-breathe air.

Luxa doesn't need to breathe in his Nexomon form.

Theoretically he can swim underwater with no fear of drowning.

In practise Merida gets really angry at him if he electrocutes her ocean.

The CoO accidentally activate their powers when they get emotional.

It's not a purposeful thing. It just happens.

Zetta starts giving off sparks and the air around him becomes electrically charged.

Fenrir accidentally makes himself and the area around him incredibly hot.

With Nadine, the wind around her picks up.

And with Merida the seas start thrashing.

Deena's mostly got a handle on it (mostly by pretending she doesn't have emotions) but she either grows nearby plants or kills them, depending on the exact emotion. Or both at the same time.

Grunda's actually got a handle on it.

Merida can always at least somewhat sense the ocean.

When she's in Arqua form in the water she can sense a ship on the other side of the continent!

At least some of the Children of Omnicron have managed to miss the fact that having two birth parents is mandatory for humans.

In their defense. Omnicron was a single father.

And Deena was a single mother.

Add that to the amount of children being raised by one parent, and it's not that unreasonable.

They just sort of assumed that when there were two parents, one of the human parents was the actual birth parent and the other one was the first one's partner.

Grunda probably figured out this wasn't true shortly after he started running an orphanage.

This isn't a thing that comes up regularly, so it might take a while for the rest of them to realise…

The Primordial Tyrants have no biological gender.

They picked up the whole 'gender' thing at about the same time as their human names.

Omnicron didn't pick one, but nor did he seem to care, so no-one corrected the humans when they assigned him one.

They may or may not know that humans have biological differences often correlated with said gender. At least Grunda knows.

They have a tendency to get attached to things or people and then get very protective of them.

This is basically their version of innate morality.

Kinda like Tiffany Aching from Discworld.

Nara just managed to get attached to humanity itself.

Once the CoO got on humanity's side, the continent basically stopped having major natural disasters.

Because they can stop a storm or tsunami or earthquake or whatever in its tracks.

Not because they were starting them.

They might have been starting them way back when, but they wouldn't have been behind every natural disaster.

I have other, more personality-based headcanons for them as well, but they're a lot less formulated so I'm leaving them out for now.

#nexomon #Primordial Tyrants #Children of Omnicron #meta essay #nayv original #crossposted on ao3 #nexomon ramble

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anti-dazai-blog · 1 year ago

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32-33- Thousands of lives risked on a gamble (and other complaints)

Welcome back to the Anti-Dazai Series!!

School starts late August this year, meaning this will be the final entry I’ll post before my classes start. But rest assured that no matter how long the gap between entries becomes, the Anti-Dazai Series is NOT dead or abandoned! So long as I never explicitly say that I’ve gotten bored of this, I will continue posting here–

Now onto what you’re here for—

—-------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 32 has no Dazai content, since its focus is Poe and Ranpo. Meaning we’re moving right on to chapter 33–

Dazai and Ranpo have a strategist meeting to decide the agency’s next move. Dazai went into this meeting with ulterior motives: to present the idea of Atsushi infiltrating the Guild’s Moby Dick alone, as to have him team up with Akutagawa once they’ve both already boarded. With that in mind, the way Dazai and Ranpo’s conversation plays out is rather interesting. Rather than going back and forth putting multiple ideas on the table, Dazai throws in a few specific combinations of agency members to send in, knowing they’re a bad match for this mission. Ranpo knows this too, and points out why each of these combos wouldn’t work. Once those purposely wrong solutions are shot down, Dazai suggests sending Atsushi in. Since this would technically work, Ranpo approves of this suggestion and allows the agency to go forward with it.

Dazai’s tactics here are classic but effective. He suggests subtly bad ideas, knowing that Ranpo will see through the flaws in each one, and then hands him a plan that wouldn’t automatically fail, knowing it would have to be approved. It also casts the illusion that all other options were analyzed, even though only a few specific combinations of agency members were considered. In a way, it’s also a standard “make them think it was their own idea so they’ll agree”. Dazai prompts Ranpo into giving the solution he’s aiming for, so he could move his “create a rivalry-partnership” plan forward.

After Dazai’s done ensuring Atsushi will have a Very Bad Time aboard the Moby Dick, he goes to visit Ango to negotiate Kyoka’s release. Ango, as you may recall, is currently recovering from a car crash. That Dazai caused. He’s stuck in a hospital bed in a full body cast. So Dazai’s greeting of “You look lovely! ;)” just seems like rubbing salt in the wound. But let’s be real, this kind of cruel mockery is exactly what can be expected of him.

Note that Dazai not only caused the accident to begin with, but also removed the airbags on Ango’s side of the car, to ensure he gets as injured as possible.

I’ll give him credit for negotiating for Kyoka’s release– Kyoka doesn’t seem to have any part in his grand Atsushi-related plans, so for once he’s doing something good for someone else without it being a part of his grand schemes. However, negotiating for anything in exchange for medical attention for the grievous bodily harm you intentionally caused someone is Very Messed Up, to say the least.

And now it’s time for the long-awaited mission.

Dazai, as per his previously stated plan, sends Atsushi into the Mody Dick alone. Atsushi is reasonably stressed about this, and being the world’s most encouraging mentor, Dazai explains that it makes sense for him to be the one chosen for this, since “[Atsushi’s] the guy who runs away the fastest.” I’m sure Atsushi found courage in that reminder.

Once he boards the Mody Dick, he discovers that the mission was misrepresented to him (in more ways than one, but we’ll get to that). Or to put it more simply– he was intentionally lied to to get him to agree to do this in the first place. He discovers that the Moby Dick is set on a course to crash in Yokohama, and the only way to stop it is to retrieve the control terminal guarded by Francis. Dazai and Ranpo were both aware that this was the Guild’s plan based on their previous conversation during the strategy meeting (“mountain?” “no, sea”). This could have easily been relayed to Atsushi to allow him an opportunity to mentally prepare himself or plan ahead. Yet they allowed this to be suddenly sprung upon him by Melville, causing more unnecessary panic in an already tense situation.

But let’s draw our attention back to the problem itself: the Moby Dick, a giant airship, is about a come crashing down upon a densely populated city. If only we knew of an ability user who could prevent this from happening– Perhaps someone who could… simply decide whether or not any object should fall in the first place? If only we knew someone like that! Unfortunately our easy solution to this problem is in the Port Mafia, and as per Dazai’s conversation with Mori in this chapter, we know that per Dazai’s request, the Mafia is not to interfere with the agency’s current mission to stop the Moby Dick from killing everyone.

Let me reiterate: Dazai made sure to make a prior agreement with the mafia that they won’t interfere in stopping the Moby Dick from crashing–something that could potentially kill thousands of innocent people, that a single specific mafia member could easily solve in a matter of seconds– all for the sake of putting Atsushi and Akutagawa in a situation where they would have to work together, thus forming his rivalry-partnership that he’s so invested in. THOUSANDS of people’s lives were risked for a gamble that had no guarantee of paying off.

Atsushi is, of course, unaware of all of that. And Akutagawa thinks he’s acting on his own free will when he disobeys his boss’s orders and boards the Moby Dick. And now that Akutagawa’s here– yet another factor that Dazai orchestrated in advance, Atsushi has yet another one of Dazai’s pawns here with him to add to his ever-growing stress.

And that’s that for this week’s entry of the Anti-Dazai Series!! Join me next week when I talk about how Akutagawa is just a traumatized child who desperately needs a great therapist and a hug. And so does Atsushi. So does everyone who has to deal with Dazai. Actually while we’re at it can we get Dazai a therapist too? He probably needs one just as much as everyone else.

#anti dazai series #Atsushi needs to be wrapped up in a little blanket and given some hot cocoa and a tiny little kiss on the forehead #He’s just a little guy and he’s been through so much #No but seriously the stuff this guy has been through #We all overlook his trauma in favor of the characters with the more unique brands of Trauma #Also why does the government not have any magical healing ability users on staff #Why does Ango not have access to proper healthcare without access to Yosano #Someone check Ango’s healthcare plan #Tell me if my guy’s properly covered #Because it sure doesn’t seem like it #Bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #dazai #atsushi #ango

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gryfflepuffinthetardis · 5 months ago

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Valentía: Won't Get Fooled Again

Season One Masterlist

Compulsion

Plain Sight

Summary: The BAU heads to Zoe's second least favorite place in America—Florida to investigate a series of bombs that have been killing people and Gideon has to face the cause of his PTSD.

Warning: Bombs, Death, Spencer Reid just being a lovably awkward idiot in love, Zoe gets hit with a car

“She was not fragile like a flower. She was fragile like a bomb.”

There was a bombing in Palm Beach, Florida. Zoe had experience with bombs, she used to make them to blow up in the desert in Mexico, it was more educational purposes to familiarize herself with the making of a bomb for future purposes like this. She was always in the company of an adult in law enforcement.

The man had been retrieving a package when it blew up, he survived but apparently his badly injured his leg.

They were putting out pictures of the bomb fragment on the table.

"Pipe bombs." Zoe recognized.

"Packed in cardboard boxes." Morgan informed them

"Package bombs." Morgan said.

"Sent through the mail?" Gideon asked.

"The other picture in your hand is of the switch that ATF found. Same mechanism for both bombs, mercury-activated." Morgan said.

"What does that mean?" Elle asked.

"There are contacts to a detonator on either end of a bent tube full of mercury." Spencer said.

Elle was still confused.

"What it means is all you have to do is tilt the package to detonate it." Zoe explained.

"So they couldn't have been sent through the mail." Elle realized. "The bomber had to deliver them himself."

"Exactly."

"Strange way to commit an act of terrorism." Hotch said, "Why go to all this trouble to kill just a few people?"

"Maybe the UnSub's trying to say that no one is safe. It's been years since the anthrax mailings in 2001. Maybe they're trying to stir up that fear again." Zoe suggested, making brief eye contact with Alexander.

"But let's recommend not raising the terror alert level for now." Gideon suggested, "No reason to spread panic."

"We got news." JJ said, entering the room and she turned the television on, "This is just a local channel, but the coverage is everywhere now. CNN, Fox, MSNBC, Al Jazeera, you name it."

"So much for not spreading panic." Zoe deadpanned.

JJ raised the volume, and they heard what the reporter was saying about the last victim.

According to doctors, he's badly injured but in stable condition in the ICU. Now, neighbors say that they heard a blast at about 10:30 this morning, and police arrived shortly...

"If DHS doesn't raise the terror alert now, they'll look weak." Gideon said.

"Make sure Homeland Security knows that this is everywhere." Hotch said.

"Now police are investigating..." The reporter continued when there was an explosion in the background, making people scream in shock and panic.

"Whoa." JJ said.

"I just felt that... Are you... Are you all right? Is everyone all right?" The reporter was asking.

"Looks like we're going to Palm Beach." Hotch said. "Let's meet at the airstrip in twenty."

Mogan waited for Hotch and walked with him. "Hotch, listen, they're gonna be sending us bomb fragments by this afternoon. I'm the only one with an ATF background. So if you'd like me to stay behind and supervise the bomb profile. I'm on that."

"Morgan, you wouldn't be afraid to be out in the field with a bomber, now would you?"

"You know, maybe it's not the bomber that I'm worried about."

"I thought we were past all that." Hotch said.

"Hotch, Boston sent Gideon into a post-traumatic tailspin." Morgan said, "How do we know that won't happen again?

"Morgan, I'll tell you what. Why don't we concentrate on profiling the bomber and not Gideon?" Hotch said and walked off.

"Copy that." Morgan sighed.

"Also, you're not the only one with an ATF background. Zoe has one too." Alexander informed him, walking out of his office where Hotch and Morgan had been having their conversation outside of.

"How!? She's nineteen." Morgan shouted, gesturing at the nineteen-year-old genius.

"Oh, let the scaredy cat stay behind." Zoe's voice said, suddenly behind Morgan as if by magic, making Morgan jump. "Then he and Garcia can do their flirting here and away from us."

"Where the hell did you come from?"

———————————————————————————

Samuel Johnson wrote, "Almost all absurdity of conduct arises from the imitation of those whom we cannot resemble."

"Bombings occurred within three miles of each other." Hotch said as he passed out photos of the victims of the bombing to the remaining agents, now on the jet. "First victim was a seventy-four-year-old widow, Barbara Keller. Two hours after that, Clurman got hit in his driveway, and forty-five minutes later, well, we all saw that. Jill Swenson, thirty-four-year-old housewife who lived across the street from Clurman. Of the three, only Clurman survived."

"Is there any connection between the victims?" Spencer asked.

Hotch looked over at the twenty-three-year-old genius, "One. Clurman was a partner in a ten-million-dollar condo development deal in which Keller was an investor. And a few weeks ago, the whole deal went bust."

"Went bust how?" Elle asked.

"Geologists discovered that the land was on methane, the condos never got built, the land became worthless, and Clurman lost a lot of people a lot of money." Hotch explained.

"So maybe one of them was mad enough to take aim at Clurman." Spencer suggested

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Gideon said, "It's a little too early to theorize about motive."

"Then, where do we start?" Elle asked.

"From the beginning." Gideon said, "What do we know about bombers?"

"Mostly male, loners. History of criminal activity." Spencer listed and then info-dumped, "About fifty percent of all bombings are actually the product of vandalism."

"And more often than not, bombers end up accidentally blowing themselves up." Alexander said. "So the first suspects you always look for in a bombing case are the victims.

"Clurman was the only male. Losing a large business deal like that, it could be a powerful stressor." Elle said.

"Well, then there's the crime scene." Gideon said.

"Clurman's attack was different. Everyone else was hit at their doors but Clurman wasn't." Zoe said. "So there must've been something different about that one."

———————————————————————————

Zoe was wearing sunglasses again, sighing as they ducked under the police tape.

"What?" Spencer asked.

"I hate Florida. It's always so hot and I have a migraine again."

"Maybe it's your ADHD, migraines are more common in those with ADHD than in those without ADHD." Spencer suggested.

"Like my chemical imbalance wasn't enough." She sighed.

"Well, weather-related triggers such as dry air, high humidity, bright sunlight, air pressure, wind, extreme temperatures or sun glare can cause an imbalance of brain chemicals such as serotonin." Spencer said.

They arrived to the charred and dented car of Churman's, "Before Clurman passed out, what he told cops at the time was that he saw the package sitting on the stoop outside his kitchen door."

"Why didn't he take it in?" Elle asked.

Why didn't it go off until he got to his car?" Spencer asked, "It's like fifty feet away."

"Joe Reese, one of Clurman's investors, was here before the bomb went off. Cops have ruled him out as a suspect, but he said he saw Clurman get in the car with the package." Hotch said.

"So maybe Clurman wasn't receiving a bomb at all." Elle suggested. "Maybe he was on his way to delivering one."

"And he drops it or tilts it and it goes off by accident." Spencer continued.

"I don't know, seems... too easy." Zoe muttered.

"I'd like to talk to Clurman. In the meantime, let's get a warrant to search his house." Gideon said.

———————————————————————————

Gideon, Zoe, and Spencer went to the hospital to talk to Clurman, his leg had been amputated. Zoe had reluctantly lifted her sunglasses to rest on her hairline.

"Hi, Mister Clurman, I'm Doctor Zoe Valdez, M.D., I work with the BAU in the FBI, this is SSA Jason Gideon and Doctor Spencer Reid. We're here about the bombings including the one that injured you. Do you mind if we ask you some questions?" Zoe asked

Clurman agreed and Gideon asked, "Can you tell us about the package, Mister Clurman?"

"I thought I knew what it was. A pot for an orchid. I collect them. I ordered the pot through the mail." He explained.

"Why didn't you take it inside?" Gideon questioned.

"It was for my office. I was going there anyway. I thought I'd take it with me." Clurman explained. "That's the last thing I remember."

"You had an argument with Joe Reese. Do you remember that?" Gideon asked.

"Joe was there?" Clurman didn't seem to have any recollection of that.

"He was angry. He accused you of blowing him off." Gideon tried to jog his memory, but it didn't seem to work. "Any reason he'd want to hurt you?

"Joe? No. I mean, he's a confrontational guy. If he wanted to kill me, he'd just beat me to death.

"A lot of people were angry about that deal falling apart, and they were angry at you. I don't know, how does that make you feel?" Gideon asked, trying to gage Clurman's range of empathy.

"I felt awful. I thought those condos would make a lot of money for a lot of people, myself included. I thought that geologist was legit. He didn't even take samples. He scammed us. All those investors who lost their money. Barbara..." Clurman was showing

Barbara Keller?" Zoe asked.

"The first victim." Spencer clarified seemingly to some invisible audience.

"What about her?" Gideon asked.

"It's just such a shame. Such a nice lady, you know? It was such an easy sale. Sometimes I felt like I took advantage of her because she was old and lonely. Now she's dead." He groaned but then wasn't like the other groans of pain but this was an emotional pain, "I feel terrible." Then he suddenly said, "Ow!"

"What? What is it?" Zoe asked.

"My foot." He said and they all looked to his amputated, bandaged foot.

"Phantom pain." She whispered to the others and she went to the head of the bed to comfort him.

"I'll get you some help." Gideon said.

The nurses kicked Zoe out of the room and she rejoined Gideon and Spencer as Gideon spoke to Hotch, "This isn't our guy. His answers were coherent even while he was sedated. He's got a sense of humor, displays empathy.

"Not to mention he has a hobby unrelated to bomb-making." Spencer added.

"This is nothing like a typical bomber profile. Well, we'll see if the fragments match at the bomb scene, but I doubt they will."

———————————————————————————

Morgan had managed to reconstruct the bomb fragments and he sent pictures of the results.

"Morgan e-mailed these over." Hotch said, referring to the laptop. "The three on the left are the bombs from yesterday. The one on the right's from the evidence room at Quantico."

"They're all identical." Spencer said. Made with steel reinforcement rods.

"Fuck." Zoe said, recognizing it from her study of the case.

"What?" Detective Morrison, the lead on the case, asked.

"Adrian Bale." Gideon said.

"Who?"

"He held our agents in a standoff in Boston earlier this year. He took out six agents and a hostage with one of his bombs." Hotch explained.

"So you're thinking he's behind this?" Elle asked.

"Possibly, but he's in prison." Spencer said as Gideon walked around them. Zoe watched him with her eyes. "He's got kind of a cult following, like Charles Manson. It could just be a copycat."

"There's one way to find out." Morrison said as Gideon drank some water, anxiously, "Let's put the screws to this guy.

"No, no, no. Bale's too smart." Gideon protested, calmly, "If we want information from him, we have to handle him carefully, and even then you have to assume that road will lead nowhere."

"You're saying the connection to Bale doesn't help us at all?" Morrison asked.

"No. I'm just saying let us handle Bale."

"Look, we just heard from local Texas P.D. You were right about Clurman's nephew." Morrison said, "He admitted the bomb stuff was his, which is great for the Clurmans but it leaves us with zero suspects. So what do you suggest my men do now?

"Proceed from the profile." Gideon said.

"I didn't know we had a profile." Morrison said.

"Zoe?" Gideon asked.

Zoe nodded and took her notebook from her satchel and handed it to Gideon, he looked it over and nodded in approval at Zoe.

———————————————————————————

Gideon started to give the profile to the officers, "When we're dealing with a bomber, we're talking about someone who's non-confrontational. If you bumped into him in a café, he'd apologize. Even if it wasn't his fault."

"We would classify this bomber as highly organized based on the meticulous design of his bombs. It means above-average intelligence. He probably has a skilled job, a trade. One that allows him to work alone. That's how he was able to make a sophisticated device without raising suspicion. Furniture maker, jeweler, et cetera."

"Background in explosives?" Morrison asked.

"No, not necessarily." Gideon aid, "You're thinking about a type who likes to blow things up. Gives them an emotional or sexual release. Death, secondary."

"Then what's this guy doing?" Another officer asked.

"Murdering." Gideon said, "Bombs? Just weapons. And these attacks, they are not random."

"Well, how do you know that?" Someone asked.

"By process of elimination." Hotch said.

"We know bombers fall into a discrete number of categories according to motive. There's the terrorist, whose aim is to spread fear. We'd expect him to strike in a populous area, like a subway. There's the politically motivated bomber. He makes a statement by choosing a symbolic target, like an abortion clinic. Then there's our UnSub. He made bombs designed to kill, and he chose his victims specifically by placing the bombs at their stoops." Hotch said, "That tells us he has a direct motive. Statistically, he bombs for profit or to conceal a crime. And it tells us how we're going to find him. Through the people he killed."

"Somewhere among the three victims there is a direct motive. Keep digging." Gideon said.

Gideon then told Hotch that it was

———————————————————————————

Hotch had attempted to tell Zoe to go with Spencer and Gideon to Boston but Gideon had declined, saying she was more use there. Zoe got the feeling he knew why she hated Boston so much. Before Spencer left for the jet, he approached Zoe with his hands deep in his pocket, looking as awkward as always.

"Hey, Zoe. I, uh, I went to the local pharmacy and got you some-some NSAIDs, that stands for non-steroidal anti-inflammatory..." Spencer licked his lips, awkwardly and then said, "You're a doctor, you already know that. This is, uh, ibuprofen, naproxen. I-I also got you this acetaminophen if those don't work for you, it's uh, Tylenol, or if you don't like that, I got you this Excedrin Migraine which contains aspirin, acetaminophen, and caffeine."

Zoe never interrupted him, she just watched him speak with a light in her eyes that she usually didn't have. Spencer loved it when he saw that. It made his heart skip a beat.

He awkwardly tried to hand her the multiple pill bottles before realizing it was too much and then awkwardly dropped them at the table she was sitting on.

"Oh! And I got you these sunglasses," He pulled out a pair of black framed sunglasses with green lenses that were actually quite her style, "studies say that green light is generally considered the most comfortable color for people prone to migraines. I've read a study that said green light is significantly less likely to trigger a headache than other colors during the interictal phase of migraines. While blue, red, amber, or white light have been found to increase migraine-related headache pain. But when we get home, I suggest you try FL-41 lenses which are rose-tinted lenses that filter out mostly blue light. Or I could-could help if-if you want..." He trailed off as Zoe offered him a rare smile that made his heart skip another beat and she put the sunglasses on and she ruffled her wavy locks.

"How do I look?" She asked, playfully.

"Beautiful." Spencer said automatically and then he stiffened, "I, uh, I gotta go... to Boston." Spencer did that nerdy run he did out of the room, booking it away from that social conversation.

“That boy is completely smitten with you.” JJ said, who had been watching.

Zoe scoffed, “Yeah, right.” It her head, Spencer could do so much better than her.

———————————————————————————

Zoe, Elle, Alexander, and Hotch were going through information about the victims when JJ entered, "How we doing?"

"Frustrated." Elle said. "I can't see why anyone would want to kill a little old lady who collects cats and coins."

"Unless somebody wanted the coins." Hotch said, "I spent a good chunk of my childhood looking for a 1944 penny worth thousands." JJ, Elle, and Zoe looked at him. "Yeah, so I was a little bit of a nerd. Is that so surprising?"

"No." Zoe deadpanned. "Are you going to give them to your kid?"

Hotch wasn't amused.

Then the phone rang and Hotch picked up, "Morgan?"

"Yeah. I just got the lab results from the powder residues on the bombs. Ammonia nitrate, potassium chloride and aluminum powder. Nobody uses that mixture, Hotch."

"Nobody but Bale." Hotch said.

"That's right. And the closer I look at these things, the more they're the same. Same weld patterns, same switch assembly, same thread sizing. It's weird, man. This guy's not building bombs, he's forging them. That's the other reason I'm calling you. Bale wrote addresses on his packages in block letters with blue ink. I'm thinking our guy's doing the same."

"Okay. I'll set up a press conference, make sure the public knows." JJ said.

"Thanks, Morgan." Hotch said and hung up and then his phone rang again.

"Someone's popular." Zoe teased.

"Just do your job." Hotch said and excused himself to talk to whoever was on the phone.

———————————————————————————

Soon after JJ's press conference, there was a call, saying a neighbor's daughter had picked up a package matching the description of the packages with the bombs. Zoe went to the scene with Hotch.

"The first thing we gotta do is get the mother out of there." Hotch told them, "I want you to bring Doctor Valdez with you to help comfort the mother and child."

"Okay."

"Got it."

Zoe was already ducking under the police tape and running to the mother and daughter.

"Hey, I'm Doctor Zoe Valdez with the FBI, but you can call me Zoe. What's your name, darling?"

"Em-Emily."

"Emily, that's lovely. One of my best friends are named Emily." Zoe said, "Emily, I need you to just keep holding on, okay?"

"But it's heavy." She cried.

"I know. I know, but you're doing such a good job.

"Hey, everything is going to be okay." The bomb squad officer, Dan Tracy said with a stand to even the package so it would tilt at all. "Just a few more minutes."

"Hear that? We're almost there." The mother told her daughter.

"It's heavy. I can't hold it." Emily cried.

"I know. Yes, you can!" Her mother said.

"You're gonna have to step back, ma'am." Zoe told her.

"I'm not leaving my daughter!" She cried.

"I understand..."

"No, you don't!" The mother shouted.

"I understand the undying need to protect someone," Zoe explained, keeping a calm and gentle yet assertive tone, "but right now, you need to trust me in order to get your daughter out of safety."

"I am not leaving." The mother told her.

"Okay now, sweetie. Don't move, okay? Don't move, sweetie. I'm going to come up and meet you." Tracy said, raising the stand's height to meet the bottom of the box.

"You're such a good girl." The mother said.

"You're doing so good, Emily." Zoe praised, "Just a few more seconds, okay?

"I can't. I can't. It's heavy."

"Yes, you can."

"You're doing great, sweetie." Tracy said.

"It's slipping." Emily cried.

"You're doing great. Hang on, hang on." The mother said.

"Emily, when I was younger, I was going through a tough time and my Aunt Ciara told me, you can do anything for ten seconds. I just need to hold on for ten more seconds." Zoe said. "Ten seconds at a time. Do you think you can do that? Ten seconds?"

"Almost there. Almost there." Tracy said.

The stand met the bottom of the package, "Okay, Emily, gently put it down."

Emily did so and stepped back, putting her hands to her mouth to cry.

"Come here, baby." The mother went to her daughter and picked her.

"This way." Zoe said, guiding the mother and daughter towards the police. "Right through here. You did so good, Emily. My friend, Emily would be so, so proud of you."

———————————————————————————

Emily and the mother were brought to the station and Emily was clinging to either her mother or Zoe until Zoe had to leave to do her work.

"Hey, Emily, this is Agent Jennifer Jarau, but you can call her JJ." Zoe introduced. "Your mother said you saw her on the TV, tell her how she saved you and your mother's life."

Then she made her escape, joining Hotch and Elle before Alexander could catch sight of her.

"Barbara Keller was having trouble ensuring some coins she'd bought. The insurance company thought they might be fake." Elle was telling Hotch.

"So the insurance company's blowing up annoying clients?" Hotch asked.

"What if someone sold her the fake coins?" Elle suggested, "She's on to him. He shuts her up."

"Were these coins valuable enough to kill over?" Hotch asked.

"She told the insurance company she thought they might be worth twelve-thousand dollars." Elle told him.

"All right. Do you have any idea who sold her the coins?"

"No. But she had an appointment with a coin dealer scheduled, I'm guessing to challenge the insurance company's appraisal. A guy named David Walker.

"So, maybe he can help us figure out who sold her the coins." Hotch said, "Take Zoe with you."

———————————————————————————

Zoe and Elle arrived to the Walker residence and met the wife of David Walker.

"Personally, I couldn't think of anything more boring than coins and old papers." She said as she walked the two female agents to her husband's shed. "Are either you single?"

"Yes." Elle said.

"Yes. I scare most people." Zoe said in a deadpan.

"I have a word of advice: don't marry the first guy that proposes. I wanted a pool table back there, but David insisted on making it his workshop."

"Ah, well, I don't think marriage is in the cards for me. Too many enemies." Zoe said.

"Enemies? You're so young."

"Oh, you'd be surprised."

There was the sound of a car revving up.

"Oh, what's he up to now?"

"Well, it sounds like a car." Elle said as her phone rang and she reached for her phone. Elle fell back to answer her phone as Zoe continued to walk.

"I hope he's not committing suicide. I won't be able to collect life insurance." The wife said.

"Well, that's why I prefer motorcycles." Zoe deadpanned.

"Yeah?" She asked and then she called to Zoe, "Zoe!"

The garage door opened and the car started for them.

"Get out of the way!" Elle screamed.

Zoe pushed the wife out of the way and by instinct she lifted her leg and jumped, rolling on the hood while using her arms to protect the side of her head from smashing into the windshield, he kept driving before he spotted Zoe reaching for her gun to shoot him so he abruptly stopped and she was thrown off the car and out of his way on the grass at a roll. She immediately sat up as Elle started firing, Zoe shooting her gun as well.

———————————————————————————

Hotch had to stop Alexander from freaking out over the fact his daughter got hit by a car, despite this having been part of her training with Maze... to get hit by a car… over and over.

Zoe was being annoyed by the EMTs over her, insisting she go to the hospital.

"I am fine! How many times do I need to say it!?" She shouted, pushing them off her to walk over to Elle.

"You two okay?" Hotch asked.

"I'm fine, Zoe insists she's fine somehow. She pushed Mrs. Walker out of the way." Elle said.

"She would've broken a few bones. My mentor had 'getting hit by a car' as part of my training. Just got to take all the weight off the leg, jump and roll on to the hood and protect the head." Zoe shrugged off.

"You should see a doctor."

"I am a doctor."

"An unbiased doctor." Alexander scolded.

"I'll see one after the case." Zoe said, stubbornly, "A serial bomber is more important than my theoretical injury."

"Morrison's got a countywide search out for the car." Hotch said, "Uniforms are going to try to find out where his haunts are, and ATF should be here any minute." Hotch said. "You sure you're all right?"

"Mrs. Walker said her husband spent most of his time in the garage." Elle said as Zoe gave him a look.

"Let's check it out."

Zoe kicked the door in and walked in casually.

"We got the organized part right." Hotch said, looking around.

"What's this?" Elle asked.

There was a coin connected to a cable which was connected to a small electrical generator.

"I've seen this. It's for electroplating." Hotch said. "Look at the date on the coin." He turned the hook connected to the coin.

"It’s half gone." Zoe observed. "He was using this to build up the metal so he could change the dates on the coins."

"To increase the value." Elle said.

"Exactly.

"Like what he did with Barbara Keller's coins."

Zoe had joined Officer Worthy and called, "Look over here. Check this out."

There was a newspaper clipping of Bale with the headline: Bale Main Suspect in Bomb Making. "Bale" was circled with "the best" written under it.

"So this is why he chose to use Bale's design." Hotch said.

Zoe pulled a cloth off of what Walker had been working on. Coils, parts of pipes, metal rods.

Hotch looked up at another newspaper on the cork board, the one with Gideon, stating that six people had died.

"Make sure Morrison tells your officers that this guy is smart, dangerous, and he has absolutely nothing to lose." Hotch said.

———————————————————————————

Spencer had stayed behind to monitor Walker's mail, calls, and visitors so Gideon came back alone.

"You okay?" Gideon asked Zoe when he saw her, cue her giving him a deeply annoyed look since Alexander had been asking his daughter that every ten minutes.

"So far nothing from the search." Zoe sighed.

"What do we know about Walker?" Gideon asked.

He's a quiet career criminal. Spent four years in prison for a series of forged cheques when he was in his early twenties. He's now forty-six." Morrison told them. For the past eighteen years, he owned a store which sold coins, maps and historical documents. We raided the place as soon as you gave us Walker's name. Most of his inventory was fake. Forgeries valued in the millions."

"But the walls had started to close in on him. We talked to some of his clients, and he was in debt up to his ears and promising stuff he didn't have time to forge." Hotch said.

"Then Barbara Keller found out that the coins he had sold her were fake. She threatened to out him." Elle explained to Gideon.

And if she had, all of the forgeries would've been discovered. He would have done twenty years." Hotch explained.

"So he had to shut her up?" Gideon asked, "He planted all those bombs just to kill one little old lady?"

"Yeah, and to throw us off, he made it look like it was much bigger than it was." Zoe explained and then her eyes fell past them. "Oh my God." She went past them and they looked at what she had seen.

A man with a metal collar around his neck that Worthy was warning, "You hear me? I said stop now!"

"Please. Help me." He pleaded and he opened his jacket revealing a bomb attached to him.

Everyone took out their guns and pointed it at him but Zoe whose behavior remained worried for the person's life.

"Everyone, back! Now! We need bomb squad in here!" Morrison said.

"Please. It's not me." The man pleaded.

"Don't come any closer. Put your hands up and walk slowly back out." Morrison said.

The man held up his hands but said, his voice trembling, "I can't. He'll kill me."

"Who will?" Gideon asked.

"I don't know. He held a gun to me, put this on me. He said you'll know who he is." The man said.

"Well, what does he want?" Zoe asked.

"A helicopter, a passport." The man said and then he nodded to outside, "He's watching. Once he gets what he wants he's got instructions to defuse the bomb."

"Walker's close by." Gideon told Morrison.

"Let's get snipers around the perimeter." Morrison said.

"Hey, we understand, and we're not going to leave you." Gideon told the man, calmly.

"Please. Take it off." The man pleaded.

"Well, we need to figure out how the bomb's put together first." Zoe explained as Gideon got closer.

"Tracy, you're in." Morrison said and as the man whimpered in fear, Tracy took pictures of the bomb.

Zoe examined the bomb, there were two wires. Red and blue.

Zoe had excused herself to call Spencer and bring him up to speed on the situation.

"What's your opinion?"

"I haven't studied the bomb thoroughly."

"You said you used to make homemade IEDs so you could understand them, what do you think." Spencer said, he trusted her opinion.

"I think this is a sophisticated device. Most likely made by a master bomb maker which means any tampering could set it off. There are two wires. A red and a blue one. And there's a timer. We got about three hours left."

———————————————————————————

They isolated the civilian whose name turned out to be Chicu Reddy in a separate part of a backroom. Zoe exited the room with Reddy in it.

"We have a bead on Walker." Morrison said. "A sniper spotted him in his scope. He's sitting in an office building across the street. It looks like a storage room with a small window facing us."

"We could surprise him." Elle said.

"That's a good idea. If he feels cornered, he might give himself up." Hotch said.

"Why do you say that?" Morrison said.

"Because bombers are generally cowards. I'll take a team in, and we'll go in through the back of the building." Hotch said.

Hotch, Zoe, Alexander, and Elle approached the building Walker was in.

"This feels wrong to me." Zoe sighed.

"She's right. Why would Walker let himself be found so easily?" Elle said.

"He wants to be found." Hotch said.

"Why?" Elle asked.

"To negotiate."

"Yeah, but then we lose the element of surprise." Elle argued.

"Well, hopefully we catch him off-guard, and he gives himself up immediately." Alexander said.

"Yeah, hopefully." Zoe scoffed.

"If not, we take a hard line and make him feel like he's got no way out." Hotch said, they all stopped before entering the building, "Remember, we have to take him alive. Walker's the only who can defuse the necklace bomb."

"This still doesn't feel right." Zoe sighed.

"Everybody ready?"

"Yes, sir. Let's do it." An officer said.

"We're entering the building." Hotch said into the comm.

"Be careful. At the very least we know he's got a gun." Gideon said.

"Copy that."

They all had their guns out as they made their way toward Walker in a group.

"We're approaching the door now." Hotch said into the comm.

"Copy that." Gideon said.

They arrived at room 324-C with Zoe on one side and Hotch on the other. Hotch opened the door from beside the door. From what Zoe could see in the room, it looked like a storage room with a bunch of dated boxes.

"Just boxes." She mouthed.

"David Walker? Federal agents." Hotch said aloud. No response. Federal agents!" Still nothing.

"One... two..." He mouthed and on three they moved inside with their guns up.

Walked ducked when he saw them.

"Walker, freeze!" Hotch shouted.

"Okay. Please. Don't shoot." Walker said as Zoe moved further in the room, she was the deepest in the room.

"Show yourself. Show yourself!" Hotch said but Walker was too scared. Bombers are cowards. "I'll shoot up the whole room."

"Okay." Walker said, making himself taller so they could see him

"All right. Now, put your hands where I can see them." Hotch said.

"I can't do that."

"Then I'll shoot." Hotch said.

"My hand's on the remote. I told you what I want. The passport, the helicopter, the flight." Walker said.

"Walker, listen to me. You're at the top of the FBI's Most Wanted list. I think you're smart enough to realize there's no way we're letting you go." Hotch said. "But here's my counter-offer, a chance to get out of here alive. All you have to do is give yourself up. Just slide the gun across the floor. You have until three. One."

"You wouldn't let the hostage die."

"You want to find out? Don't give yourself up." Hotch said. "Two."

"There's only two wires to cut, Walker." Zoe said.

"Okay. Okay." Walker said and placed his gun down and slid it to Zoe who bent down and grabbed it. "I'm coming out. Don't shoot."

What is he doing?

"Now walk slowly towards me." Hotch said, "Let me see your hands, Walker."

"What is he doing?" Zoe muttered, trying to get a better angle to see what he was doing.

"Get out of there now! Now!" Gideon's voice shouted.

"Go, go! Everybody, out!" Hotch shouted.

"But he has the plans to save the hostage!" Zoe protested.

Alexander grabbed his daughter and pulled her back and through the door, just escaping the blast.

Alexander had thrown himself at Zoe, so they both fell and he was on top of his daughter, shielding her but the blast didn’t reach them, the rubble from the blast didn’t even reach them.

Zoe had been positioned in a spot that she saw the

———————————————————————————

They had only had one option left. To talk to Adrian Bale.

Zoe's gut said to cut the blue based off the blue ink but she couldn't be certain and she didn't put the man's life on the possibility she was right.

Zoe stood against the wall as they spoke to Bale. He looked at her the moment he entered the room.

"Who's she? I didn't see her before."

"I transferred to the BAU shortly after you killed six of their agents." Zoe said. "Sit, please." She forced herself to smile but maintained a slight glare in her eyes at him for what he did to Gideon.

"You look familiar."

"Don't talk to her." Hotch said, he was sitting across from Bale while Gideon stood.

"We'll start with a transfer." Gideon said, pacing as Zoe stared unblinking and as stoic as Hotch at Bale with a hint of rage in her amber-brown eyes. "You're in a high-security facility now. We can get you medium."

"No. I want out of prison. A mental facility." Bale negotiated, finally looking away from Zoe.

"You are not mentally ill. You have a homicidal triad, you committed multiple accounts of animal cruelty, fire setting, and enuresis since the age of five.

"Enur-what-is?" Bale asked.

"It's the medical term for involuntary loss of urine while sleeping." She explained. "You come from a broken home, your mom left when you were seven and your dad was a firefighter who was rarely home and when he was, he would drink which may have ignited your disregard for authority. A broken home doesn't necessarily indicate a sociopath, but it is possible that when your mother left, you realized how little personal attachments people could have even to their own child. You misbehaved frequently in school, you were aggressive and violent to other students with no remorse for harming them and poor behavior control. You're a classic sociopath. That being said, you only have a few traits of having antisocial personality disorder but not enough to definitely diagnose you as having it. It is possible to be a sociopath and not have antisocial personality disorder just as it is possible to have antisocial personality disorder and feel empathy for someone.” Zoe said this with casualness.

Bale realized that Zoe was smarter than she looked. A young woman, younger than it seemed an FBI agent should be, with long dark brown wavy hair with green and purple streaks in it, on her nose, she had a pair of black sunglasses with green lenses on. She was wearing a shirt with a Sherlock Holmes quote, “To a great mind, nothing is little” under a black denim jacket, a rare day she wasn’t wearing a leather jacket, a black and white plaid skirt, black tights, and black boots. She looked nothing like what an FBI agent should be but clearly had the intellect above the average one.

"What she means is you're asking for something we wouldn't give a bank robber." Hotch said. "There are minimum-security facilities..."

"I don't care." Bale cut him off, "I want to be able to talk to people who aren't prisoners. I want to have access to people, things, the world. I want to connect again."

That's kind of why they were in this bombing mess in the first place.

"All right." Gideon conceded.

"One more thing, without which there is no deal." Bale said.

"What is it?" Gideon asked.

"I want you to confess. I want you to admit that I beat you in Boston, that I outsmarted you." Bale said and Zoe's nails dug into her skin, not only because of Bale's arrogance but because at how much it reminded her of that one UnSub from Boston. "I want you to apologize to the families of those six victims you got killed. And I want it all in writing."

"Jason, that's enough." Hotch said, standing up.

There was a hint of a look on Zoe's face, somewhat of disgust but also like she thought Bale was a pathetic, sad, little man, so desperate for a feeling of power.

"If I do this, you'll tell me how to defuse the bomb?" Gideon asked.

"Only if you do this." Bale said like that hadn't already been clear.

"How do I know you won't lie to me?" Gideon asked.

"It's all in writing, Agent Gideon. If my client refuses to give you the information, or if he gives you information he knows to be untruthful, the deal is void." Bale's lawyer said.

"Doesn't mean he still won't do it." Zoe told her.

Gideon wrote it down on a yellowed piece of notebook paper and then put the pen down.

"I wanna hear it." Bale said.

Gideon looked down at the piece of paper and started to read, "There was a hostage situation, and...

"No. Don't read it. Say it." Bale demanded.

Zoe studied Bale without emotion. Bale was the kind of bomber who got an emotional release from the bombing and the kills. He was impotent but he got off on even little bouts of control and manipulation. He had spent nearly seven months in prison with no sense of relief and he was milking it for all that it was worth.

Zoe could see right through him. With each sentence Bale said, she grew more confident in which wire they had to cut.

"There was a hostage situation. I negotiated with Bale. He agreed to give himself up. He came out of the warehouse peacefully. I gave the okay to send six of my agents in and, and they never came out. It was a mistake. It was my mistake. I was... I was outfoxed by Mister Bale. By you. I sincerely regret having made the decision to send those agents in that day. And I sincerely regret and apologize to the families of all those who died that day."

"Four more minutes." Zoe said, the look in her eyes fully icy now like she could beat Bale without compunction.

———————————————————————————

They all stood outside the glass room where Reddy was drenched in sweat from stress and Tracy wore a full bomb suit.

"Okay. I've isolated the wires connected to the actual device. We've got one shot at this. It's either the blue wire or the red wire." Tracy said.

Definitely the blue. Zoe knew for certain but she knew if she answered before Bale, his defeat wouldn't be as satisfying.

"Which do we cut, Bale? Red or blue?" Gideon asked.

Bale inhaled and said, "Red."

"Blue." Zoe said when Bale was barely done talking.

"You know if you're lying and this thing goes boom, you get nothing, right?

"Yes.

"It's the blue." Zoe said.

"I said it's the red." Bale said, irritatedly.

"If we cut the red, it's over?" Gideon said

You get to spend your time in a cushy asylum, bushes, trees, visits, nurses, and we get this man out of here alive." Gideon said.

I don't see how I could be any clearer. You're going to believe some child over me? I masterminded the bomb." Bale scoffed, trying to belittle Zoe's credibility, unaware that Gideon's trust in Zoe's opinion had been solidified since she was three and she accurately profiled him and Rossi.

Zoe didn't give him the slightest hint that she had heard him as if he wasn't even worth being acknowledged. He wasn't.

"Seventeen seconds." Tracy said.

"Red wire, right?" Gideon gave Bale one last chance to come clean and get the deal.

"Yes." Bale said.

"No." Zoe said over him. "Blue."

"Cut the blue." Gideon said and Bale and Hotch looked at him.

"Are you sure?" Tracy asked.

"Do it."

Tracy cut the blue wire and the timer stopped on the number three.

"All right. Shouldn't take long to cut this thing off now."

Zoe finally looked at Bale with a somewhat condescending look like, did you really think you could fool me?

Hotch aggressively grabbed Bale and pulled him out of the room and into the conference room.

Zoe entered the bombproof room, closing the door behind her and she crouched by Reddy's side, "You should be already now. I recommend you get a check up at the hospital after the amount of stress you went through today but you should be fine."

"Thank you. Thank you." Reddy was repeating in relief.

She exited the room as Elle asked them both, How'd you know?"

"He told me. He said given the opportunity to press that button, he'd have no choice. All I did was take his word for it."

"Blue ink." Zoe said.

"What?"

"The packages were brown with blue block letters, I knew that from the start but I couldn't place Mister Reddy's life over what I thought. The more Bale spoke, the more I knew he was desperate for some kind of relief, that's the kind of bomber he is. He got off on the idea that he was smarter than Gideon. He's not, but he's an arrogant sociopath who never did anything good with his life. He got off on the fact that he made us make a deal with him. His mom left him, giving him a slight resentment of women, not quite enough to call him a misogynist but he clearly didn't take well to me being smarter than him." Zoe explained, calmly. "I think I'll have a chat with him."

———————————————————————————

Zoe sat across from Bale in the conference room, not speaking, refusing to be the first to speak.

"How'd you know?" He asked, breaking the silence.

"Did you do research on Gideon?"

"Of course."

"Then the reason I look so familiar is because my mother was Zelena Valdez." Bale only now realized the similarities between Gideon's late co-founder of the BAU and this nineteen-year-old girl in front of him. The soft curves of her face, the olive skin tone, similar shade of hair. "My name is Xiomara Noble-Valdez. I am the daughter of BAU co-founders, Alexander Noble and Zelena Valdez. I was born twelve after my mother died from several axe wounds to the chest. Alexander Noble is my father and he along with David Rossi and Jason Gideon raised me. You thought that you could make Gideon doubt his trust in my instinct but he's trusted my mind since I was a toddler. Every agent makes a mistake or a choice. Sometimes there are no good choices but you still have to make one. You didn't outsmart Gideon, he made a bad choice. You are not smarter than Jason Gideon and you sure as hell are not smarter than me."

———————————————————————————

Gideon walked Bale back to his cell as the prisoners heckled Bale as he walked past and Bale stepped back into his cell.

"Despite the fact you lied to us and your deal is void, I made sure to tell all your friends here how extremely willing you were to give up information on your fellow inmates." Gideon told him with a smile on his face. "You're a rare bird, Adrian. I can't tell you how much pleasure I get just knowing I put you in this little, tiny cage. You might even call it an emotional release."

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kanerallels · 2 years ago

Note

For the three sentence (or paragraph) fic challenge: Kanera but the AU is Hera was the jedi, not Kanan.

This, uh. This got longer than I expected, so it's going under a cut!

He’d thought the Jedi were gone, all killed when he was a teenager. He’d seen the wanted posters for the survivors, the warnings that they couldn’t be trusted, the propaganda— not that he’d ever really believed it.

And he’d watched them all dwindle, until there was no one left. It was just the Empire, ruling over them all.

But then, Kanan had come to Gorse. And he’d met the most incredible woman in the galaxy— beautiful, smart, an amazing pilot, and brave.

Finding out that Hera Syndulla was a Jedi wasn’t really a shock. He was certainly surprised, but it made so much more sense— the way she’d managed to pull off some of the tricks, flying and otherwise, that she had. The way she’d stared at him when he’d offered to help her, like she could see through him, before accepting his help. The fact that she was still traveling alone.

Even now, after dropping off Zaluna, she was getting ready to politely but firmly send him on his way. He could tell. Kanan still couldn’t tell why exactly she’d let him help in the first place, but he knew she was usually a solo act in her fight.

As they made it to the hangar where her ship was waiting behind closed doors, Hera turned to him, her expression more hesitant than he’d expected.

“Wait,” he blurted out, and she lifted a curious eyebrow at him.

Kanan could have said anything. He could have told her that, ever since he first met her in that alleyway, he’d known he would never meet someone who called to him like she did. He could say that when she’d saved his life on the Star Destroyer, she’d practically glowed. She’d looked at home in the pilot’s seat, and using the Force, she looked like she had a purpose.

He could have told her that, when he was very young, his parents had died, killed by the Black Sun when they tried to fight back against them. He and his younger sister had changed their names and fled, living in fear for years. The Black Sun had never come after them, but it had been a long time before they’d felt at ease again.

He could have told her that the Jedi had saved his planet as a kid, or that he’d never liked the Empire, especially once his sister Devorah had enlisted when she turned 18, or that he’d never been one for a cause until now.

But all he found himself saying was, “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Hera’s eyes widened in surprise for just a moment before she frowned. “And what makes you think I need help?” she asked, but Kanan could tell she was mostly teasing, with a hint of curiosity.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re incredibly good at what you do,” Kanan told her, deciding honesty was the best policy. “I almost believe you could do it all on your own. But that’s the thing— none of us can. We all need someone to watch our backs and take care of us. To help pick us back up.”

“And you want to be that someone?” Hera asked. “You know, it’s not exactly a sought after position. Not with— with who I am.”

He didn’t miss the slight hitch in her voice, the loneliness. Kanan understood it. “I do. For you, at least. And I’m willing to take the risk if you’re willing to have me around for a little while longer.”

Hera nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. Kanan could tell she was considering it, but not what she would choose. “It won’t be safe,” she said quietly. “I’m not safe to be around, not really.”

Lifting an eyebrow, Kanan said, “Considering the last few days, do you really think safety is my biggest priority?” Not my own, anyways.

That made her laugh, which had been his goal. “Okay,” she agreed. “But if things go wrong, I have the right to throw you out.”

“Absolutely. It’s your ship, after all, Captain.” But Kanan had a feeling things wouldn’t go wrong. He had a feeling he would stay with Hera for as long as he possibly could.

Call it a good guess, or fate, or maybe even the Force. Who knew? All Kanan was really sure of was that he wasn’t planning to leave Hera. Not if he could help it.

#thanks for the ask!!#kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #jedi!hera #kanera #kanera is love kanera is life #the thing is i cannot imagine anyone but hera being the pilot #so we have hera the incredible jedi pilot #and then we have kanan. who is just some guy. but he wants to take care of hera if he can #and he's also a gunslinger and amazing at making waffles and adopting kids #star wars rebels #swr #writing stories is a kind of magic too

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cycle-verse · 1 year ago

Text

A couple of weeks later, after Ink was feeling much better, he and Dream were sitting at the table, calmly discussing Cross over some coffee. If anything, he'd asked Stain or Gradient to keep the other kids out, especially Moku, and made sure Error could join them if he wanted.

Gradient and Stain were currently trying to keep the kids distracted, especially Moku, who had been especially clingy to Dream recently.

After a minute, Ink would've stood with a nod, "Alright. We'll tell Error and begin."

PJ was currently listening through the door. Ever since they’d made up with Palette, they’d been especially chaotic

Their plan was to get Cross out, mainly by contacting Cross through his dreams and telling him to grab some things from Error's old room and wait for Ink to portal in. Of course, Ink would have someone hold his paints, he couldn't panic without them, and Error, Blue, and Dream would be waiting for them on the other side of the portal, just in case.

Error was content with the plan although pushed the fact Cross shouldn’t go into his old room if he felt at all in danger. PJ thought the idea was perfect. They’d never met Cross but from what all Moku says, they were excited

Dream agreed, knowing that Ink would be able to find Cross anyway, before going to the room he was staying in to try and contact Cross.

PJ jumped back as Error opened the door. Error sighed. “Ink… your turn,” this was the fourth time this week alone that they’d caught PJ spying on them

Ink sighed softly, "PJ."

“But the plan is so cool! I'm old enough, I turn fifteen in a few weeks! Stain and Gradient get to know stuff!”

"But you're still only 14. Besides, you should be focusing on things like your friends and school. Like Omni."

PJ froze a bit before huffing. “But why do Stain and Gradient get to know everything?” “They don’t. They know nothing of these plans, at least Stain doesn’t. Gradient likely is picking up on them purely because of his past… they don’t know because they’re only fifteen, you are all children,”

"If they know, it's because they're listening when they shouldn't be, and we try to keep them from doing so, both for their safety and everyone else's."

“Oh…” PJ looked down. “I just thought it was cause they were your favorites, you let them know,” they admitted. “Oh PJ…”

"Oh, no, no, no... we don't put favorites on you guys... we love you all and... trust me... they get scolded just as much for listening..."

They smiled a bit. “Promise?” “PJ we will tell you this as many times as you need us to. We didn’t leave you out there on purpose, we love you all so much, and yes. Gradient and Stain both get scolded… did you know, Gradient got suspended last week for punching a kid? He’s currently grounded so don’t worry, you aren’t the only one, although you are definitely in trouble,”

"You are, and while I don't *blame* you... it's more... think of what we're doing as something private... not because we want to keep secrets, but because if you guys stress yourselves over these things, you might stress out the younger ones... especially since, well, you're still growing and stuff..."

“Like why the younger ones didn’t know you were hurt? How I was the youngest to figure it out? Protecting us so we don’t get sad over adult stuff?” “Exactly, PJ,”

"Protecting you because I don't think it'd be fun to have... 6? Crying children, at once, because they found out we went to take care of some bad people."

“Six? Oh yea… the toddler… but I’m a part of that 6? Wouldn’t stain and Gray be which makes it 8? They get to do all the big kid stuff but I’m not even a year younger than them,” they pouted. “I have an idea… Hey PJ? Your dad and I can give you some more big kid responsibilities but you gotta show us that you can use them correctly, that you’re responsible enough for them. We don’t treat you like the little kids because you are one, but having big kid responsibilities is stressful,”

Ink nodded, "It is. Adult ones are even worse... but it'd give you a chance, you know?"

PJ nodded. “I’ll show you I can do it! I promise!” They hummed.

Ink smiled a bit, "Good. I know you can, but do you at least understand why we try to keep this stuff secret?"

PJ thought for a moment before nodding. “Because Pal would be sad… Moku and the blues too. I don’t think Pic can feel sad yet but if they could, they’d be sad too…”

He nodded, "That's right. Speaking of which, I should finally get those paints for Pic... maybe I can do that now..."

PJ nodded and smiled. “No ice cream criminals for a week,” Error whispered. “You know about that!?” PJ gasped in shock. “It’s my kitchen, of course I do,”

"Error knows everything."

“That I do,” Error smiled and PJ groaned although they were also smiling, something they did a terrible job at hiding

"Anyway, I'm gonna go see how Dream's doing."

“Sounds good, I’ll see if Stain and Gradient tried t to get dinner started or if I’ll need to… tell me when it’s starting,” he whispered

~~~~~

He knew that Malevolence had figured him out, he’d seen the realization during dinner when someone brought up the children, Malevolence had seen Moku before he got him out after all. Cross couldn’t do much besides worry, so he slept. Maybe he’d see Dream, but that was a rare commodity

He did that night, however. Dream was waiting for him, having easily made contact despite any of Malevolnce's possible defenses. He quickly moved to grab Cross when he saw him.

“Dream!” Cross laughed weakly when he saw the other.

“Cross! We're gonna get you out of there."

“Seriously? Great timing, I think Malevolence had started planning my execution,” he smiled sadly, just staring at Dream

He nodded a bit, "Wherever you are doesn't matter. If you're comfortable with it, you could also grab a couple of Error's old things, but Ink will find you either way."

“I should have time… I think Killer knows Malevolence has figured it out so he’ll probably try and keep him busy tonight. I’ll run to Errors… give me ten minutes once I’m awake,” he whispered

"Alright, Ink will be there then."

Cross nodded and sighed before hugging Dream. “I missed you,” he whispered before waking up.

Dream hugged him back, though was disappointed when Cross woke up, sighing softly and looking at Ink, who went to go get Error.

Cross moved quickly, hoping that Killer wouldn’t call him out and was distracting Malevolence. He packed his things then picked Errors lock and grabbed what he could, he’d likely still be there when Ink would get him

At the same time, Dream went to grab Blue while Ink made sure Stain and Gradient had the kids before taking Error somewhere secluded, where Dream and Blue soon joined them.

Error sighed. “This could go awfully… let’s hope not though… and let’s hope you-know-who doesn’t show,”

Ink nodded, moving to take off his sash of paints and hand it to Error, "Hold this for me?"

Error nodded and held it to his chest. “Be safe for me?”

"I will, don't worry," He used his paintbrush to open a portal before stepping through and quickly searching for Cross.

Cross was attempting to leave Errors room without being caught but Ink quickly found him and whispered, "Cross!"

Cross jumped before turning and smiling. He looked exhausted and had at least a couple of bruises. “Ink…”

Ink quickly moved to grab Cross' arm and lead him to the portal, "Let's go-"

Crossed nodded and tried to keep his eyes out, frowning and gasping when he saw the shadow of a figure moving closer.

Ink would've quickly rushed Cross through the portal before following him, making sure Cross got behind everyone, turning to face anyone that came through the portal

Cross was practically shaking as a certain being of negativity started to crawl through the portal.

Ink made sure to keep his brush in hand, though, emotionless and uncaring by then. Dream had his bow drawn and ready, and Blue was ready to send attacks at him.

Error ducked to hide so Malevolence wouldn’t see him, tugging Cross down with him.

Ink growled a bit at Malevolence, "If you knew what was good for you, you'd go back through that portal.”

Malevolence laughed a bit. “Knew what was good for me?”

"It's 3 against one."

“Wrong. You think I would seriously jump through this portal without backup?” He turned, fully expecting someone to walk through

Killer, in fact, did, and he glanced between them all with a lazy smile, "You know, you could really just leave them to me."

“Killer,” Malevolence hummed, smirking as he turned back to the others

"I'll be fine, I got this. Go back and I'll be there in, oh, maybe a minute."

“You certain?” If someone was paying enough attention to the fury and darkness in his eyes, they’d hear some semblance of softness in his voice and not just hesitation.

"I'm sure. I've taken down worse.”

Malevolence nodded and left. “Make the traitors play… Error included,” he called before leaving. Error gasped and Cross slammed his hand over the glitch's mouth to stop any noise escaping.

Killer simply nodded, waiting for him to disappear back through the portal before seeming to relax, "Close the portal-"

“What is going on? Why are you doing this Killer? You told us that you wouldn’t stop us escaping but if we got caught, you’d bring us back or fight us,” Cross stood up. Killer had stated that when they got Error out so why? Why now?

"I say a lot of shit to make Malevolence happy, call it survival, but I don't want to hurt you guys."

“That’s not what you said when I had to leave,” Error spoke up, moving out from his hiding spot. He’d had to leave with the girls in a hurry when Nightmare turned dark. Killer had said some pretty awful things and sometime after he lost the girls, Error disappeared from the world. Until Cross had seen him while being Moku, he had honestly thought Error was dead.

"With that thing controlling Nightmare, you think I can just... speak my mind?"

“We were alone then and you know who you said that sorta stuff in front of! I was just as scared as you, he had been my best friend… I thought that we would have been safe when you caught Cross sneaking me and… sneaking me out… Don’t tell Malevolence that I’m here,”

"I won't. I know you're all high-strung, I'm just trying to keep him in check without losing my mind for the fourth time."

“There’s something I need to tell you, about that… but I’ll find a way to talk to you later,” Error finally decided as Cross wrapped his arms around himself. “Please know, Killer, that this isn’t against you or who he really is… it’s against… HIM”

"I know. That's why I'm leaving."

He nodded and looked down. “I’ll see you when this is over,” Cross moved to Dream and hugged him for real this time as Error gulped a bit. He hadn’t seen Killer in over 15 years, part of him just wanted to spend more time with his friend

Killer nodded, moving to open his own portal and step through. Ink had already closed the first one.

Error moved to grab Ink's hand. He knew Ink would panic if he had his paints and Error was currently panicking

Ink hadn't taken his paints back yet, but he did move to squeeze Error's hand.

Error squeezed his eyes closed and took a deep breath as he asked, “Want your paints or not yet?”

"I'm going to hide if I do."

“Okay… so not yet… hiding isn’t super healthy for you and I don’t think I can handle it…” he hid his face against Ink’s head

Ink moved to pull Error close, gently nuzzling him.

Error relaxed more. It was a terrifying event for everyone involved.

Ink tried his best to comfort him, knowing there'd be no way he didn't eventually hide after it all, and Error knew that too, seeking as much comfort as he could get before Ink would hide.

"We should head back."

“I know…”

"Then let's head back. Try to relax for a bit."

Error nodded and sighed, squeezing Ink's hand.

Ink is open for asks again!

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