#she wants nothing from voit

[isagrimorie]

Criminal Minds Evolution 17x04 - Kingdom of the Blind

"Oh, can I guess? Youuuu... need to be let out of this cell. Transferred to the sixth floor at Quantico. So you can be treated like you're one of us. Like you have 'value'. Like a profiler." "Wow. Am I that easy to predict?" "You are."

[ohallthecrushes]

You're a storm in a teacup and I'm starting to like the chaos.

I know there was a long pause between episodes and I'm sorry for that, but I didn't have time to sit and write and I don't like how I wrote the previous smut, so I wanted to write it better this time. And for that I needed to take more time. So, there's smut in this episode too...basically only smut.

Without further ado!

Summary: Evelyn is a young-troubled woman who’s just escaped a highly guarded psych ward (twice, but this time causing havoc on her way out)

Now she’s running through the city, hiding from police. A not-so-accidental encounter with a man named Elias Voit will change her life forever. And she’ll change his. His seemingly selfless help is laced with danger, hidden agenda, manipulation, endless tension, and…love? Slow burning inteligent-idiots-in-love trope. But mind you, just because it’s a love story, doesn’t mean it ends well.

General warnings throughout the story: Manipulation, illegal activities, murder(s), Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, explicit content, language… The whole pack. It’s Criminal minds after all.

In this episode: Everything about him is infuriating. The way he watches her with those dark blue eyes, always a step ahead. The way he can disarm her with a sarcastic remark or that cocky grin, cutting through her defenses like they are nothing. And then there is the way he touches her, like he knows exactly what buttons to press to make her body react a certain way. He is infuriating because she can't stop wanting him, no matter how hard she tried to keep him at a distance.

Evelyn stepped out of the bathroom, her skin still warm from the shower she took a moment ago. She didn't expect to find Elias still in her bedroom, she thought that he'd already go to his own room. But she paused at the doorway as she saw him still lying in her bed. She observed him for a moment. His eyes were closed, his breathing even and slow. She fidgeted with her fingers as she hesitated, unsure what to do. Was he sleeping or just resting?

Her muscles were sore, exhaustion weighed her down, making her eyelids heavy. She needed to get to her bed. Her bed. Maybe she could slip in beside him and get some much-needed rest without waking him up? Assuming of course that he was indeed sleeping.

She didn’t know what to expect. Would he pull her close, demanding more of her? Or would he get up, leaving her alone in the cold bed?

She stood frozen in place for a long moment, biting her lower lip. It felt weird to be uncertain about something as simple as sleeping arrangements. She was used to her own space, where she could curl up and shut the world out. But with him everything was changing rapidly. After what had happened, the lines in their dynamic were so blurred she didn’t know where she stood with him anymore.

Finally, she forced herself to move, padding softly across the wooden floor. His silhouette sprawled out on the bed, one arm draped casually over the pillow where her head would go. She grimaced in discontent.

He didn’t stir as she approached, and for a second, she thought about turning around and grabbing a blanket to sleep on the couch. But the cold air made her skin prickle, and she knew she wouldn’t sleep through the night out there without shivering.

Taking a deep breath, she slid into the bed beside him, careful not to disturb his sleep. She lay on her side, with her back at him, her head rested on the edge of the pillow. Her pillow. Her body tensed as she listened to his breathing. Would he wake up? Would he pull her in or push her away?

Suddenly he shifted beside her. His arm moved, but instead of pushing her away, it wrapped around her waist, pulling her close with a firmness that surprised her. The warmth of his body pressed against hers, and she felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat near her back. His grip was possessive, but not in the demanding way it had been earlier. There was no urgency, no hunger, just a quiet, unspoken claim.

"You're staying here." he murmured, his voice low and thick with sleep. It wasn’t a question. He was stating a fact, as if there had never been another option.

She blinked, staring ahead into the darkness, unsure how to respond. She could feel his breath against the back of her neck, his body molding against hers, and despite everything, despite the confusion and uncertainty, it felt… comforting. Warm.

She didn’t say anything, didn’t dare to move or breathe too loudly, afraid of disturbing this moment that had settled between them. She let herself relax and closed her eyes, her breathing slowing to match his until she drifted off to sleep.

When Evelyn woke up the next morning, the first thing she noticed was the quiet. Her body ached, every muscle protesting as she shifted under the covers. The bed felt warm, but when she opened her eyes fully, she realized Elias wasn’t beside her.

For a brief, surreal moment, she wondered if it had all been a dream. But the soreness and stingy marks on her neck told her otherwise.

She slowly sat up and glanced at the bedroom door, it was ajar. Part of her was relieved. She needed space to think, to breathe without his presence looming over her. But another part, the annoying part she wasn’t ready to accept, groaned at the lack of his presence.

As she stood and stretched, she noticed the smell of something faintly burning. She frowned, pulling on a nearby robe and tying it around herself before making her way toward the kitchen. The smell of food grew stronger as she neared, and when she turned the corner, there he was, standing at the stove, his back to her as he flipped something in a pan.

It was such a domestic sight, so absurdly normal that for a moment, she just stared. He was shirtless, wearing only his jeans from the night before, his posture relaxed as he moved with calm motions. His muscles shifted under his skin as he cooked, and the smell of eggs and bacon filled the small kitchen.

"Morning" he said without turning around, his voice casual, almost pleasant. "Thought you’d sleep in."

She didn’t respond right away. She stood in the doorway, unsure how to reconcile the man who had fucked her roughly the night before with the one who was now cooking breakfast as if they were just any normal couple. She swallowed, her throat dry, before finally stepping into the kitchen.

"Morning..." she managed.. Her eyes darted toward the pan. "You're… making breakfast?"

He turned his head at her and smiled with the smile he knew unnerved her. "You sound shocked... Well, I thought you'd appreciate the gesture. Unless you'd rather go back to pretending."

She knitted her brows knowing what he meant. "You really think that highly of yourself, don't you? That just because you..." She blushed faintly. "Well... did what you did, I'm suddenly under some spell?"

He chuckled, deep and amused, as he turned to the sotve to tend to the food. "You can lie to yourself all you want, Evelyn, but we both know the truth." He turned around fully and put two plates with food onto the table. He stood just a few feet from her, with his hands on his hips. "Last night wasn't just me. You wanted this as much as I did."

She glared at him. "I didn't-"

He cut her off, his voice commanding, making her pulse quicken in surprise. "You did. You can deny it all you want, but you won't fool anyone."

She opens her mouth but for a moment she faltered. The memory of his hands on her, on his body pressing her into the mattress, the way he made her give in to desires she hadn't even known she had, rushed through her mind. She had wanted him...craved him in ways that scared her.

But instead of backing down, she threw her armor back up. "I could still walk out of here" she shot back, her voice hard but not as steady as she wanted. "I don’t need you."

His smile widened, he knows better than her. "You won’t walk out" he said, his voice softer now, almost tender in a twisted way. "Because you like this. You like the push and pull. You like the game we’re playing."

"I don’t even like you" she repeated her words from yesterday, but they were coming out hollow.

He shook his head. "You don’t have to like me. You just have to want me. And we both know you do."

He stepped closer and observed her as if calculating his next move. Her heart raced, she knew she couldn't deny his words, but she stood her ground, her eyebrow raised in unspoken challenge, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch.

"You look so… soft this morning" he whispered, his voice low and husky. His hand moved to the tie of her robe, tugging at it slightly, playfully. "Do you know how hard it was to leave you alone in bed?"

She tensed. She couldn't believe his boldness though she knew he didn't try to seduce her, he was merely testing her boundaries.

But even though...

Her body still ached from last night, but he was watching her as if he wanted to fuck her again, right there in the kitchen, with the breakfast still hot on the plates.

"Elias..." she started, trying to keep her voice steady. "I..." She swallowed hard, her throat tight.

"I know" His lips curved into a knowing smile, his hand slipping inside the robe to caress her waist, the heat of his touch sending shivers through her. He wasn’t asking her for anything, not really. He was simply showing her what he wanted. But before she expected him to push her further, he let go of her, stepping back slightly. His eyes still burned with desire, but he relented, for now.

"Eat your breakfast" he said, his tone casual once more, as if nothing had happened. "You’ll need your strength."

And just like that, the moment passed. She stared at him, unsure if she should be relieved or frustrated, but she tied her robe tighter, sat down at the table and picked up up the fork. She stabbed at the food, her appetite nonexistent, but she needed the distraction.

He watched her in silence as he sat on the opposite side of the table. The tension between them was like a rope pulled tight and ready to snap. After all her defiance, her sharp retorts, her attempts to outwit him... The truth was out now, spoken into the silence that surrounded them. She wanted him. But she was still on the edge, torn between the fear of what wanting him meant and the thrill of finally giving in. She knew that yesterday had been just a taste of what he could offer her. She had fought at first, tried to meet him blow for blow, to wrestle for control, but he had overpowered her in every way. He loved it. Loved watching her fight only to submit when the struggle became too much.

But as much as he had enjoyed breaking through that initial resistance, it hadn’t been enough. He wanted more from her. So much more.

Having his eyes constantly on her, made her uncomfortable. His gaze made it harder for her to distract herself with food. She quickly ate the rest of it and got up from the table, avoiding looking at him. She came over to a sink, turned on a tap and started washing her plate. After a moment she felt him standing behind her, his hand reached out as he put his plate in a sink. He's so close, his hand brushed hers and she stopped, tightening her grip over a sponge.

He stepped back and she moved sideways to dry her hands with a towel. His presence behind her frustrated her. She hated how easily he got under her skin, hated the smug smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth whenever he knew he’d rattled her. Elias was the worst kind of threat, charismatic, charming, and entirely too sure of himself. He didn’t just push her boundaries, he obliterated them.

Everything about him was infuriating. The way he watched her with those dark blue eyes, always a step ahead. The way he could disarm her with a sarcastic remark or that cocky grin, cutting through her defenses like they were nothing. And then there was the way he touched her, like he knew exactly what buttons to press to make her body react a certain way. He was infuriating because she couldn’t stop wanting him, no matter how hard she tried to keep him at a distance.

She turned around to face him. He just stood there, his hands inside his pockets, a smirk dancing on his lips. His eyes never left her, tracking every small movement, every flicker of emotion she was trying to suppress. The worst part? He knew. He knew that after everything, the teasing, the defiance, the walls she kept throwing up between them, he had her right where he wanted her.

And he wouldn’t let her slip away from his grasp.

That knowledge both terrified and thrilled her. She wasn’t used to this, this feeling of being so utterly out of control. She had never let anyone dominate her before, never given anyone that kind of power over her. But Elias? For some reason, somehow, he'd managed to make her craving it, craving being possessed and claimed by him.

It scared her. It scared her because she had no idea what that would look like, how it would feel to submit completely to him. But at the same time she wanted it. She wanted to know what it would be like to let him take everything.

"You’re scared" he said reading the emotions on her face, his tone soft as he slightly tilted his head. "Scared of what happens when you stop resisting. Scared of how much you want this. But it's ok, Evelyn, it's ok to be scared of the unknown."

She opened her mouth to argue, to throw some biting remark his way, but the words died on her lips. He wasn’t wrong. The fear was there. She didn’t know how to handle this, how to handle him. But the thrill of it was there too, undeniably.

He took a step closer. He didn't touch her, though he was close enough to do it. His hands still inside his pockets.

"You think you’re so clever." she finally whispered, her voice shaking slightly. "You think you can just... wear me down."

He shook his head. "I don’t need to wear you down. You’ve already given in, sweetheart, you just haven’t accepted it yet."

She was caught between fear and desire, he could see it in her eyes. This was what he loved most - the push and pull, the battle of wills. She wasn’t like the others who had submitted easily. No, Evelyn fought back, sharp and fierce, and that only made breaking her down all the more satisfying.

He slipped his hand out of his pocket and touched her face, his thumb brushing her blushing cheek.

"Here’s the thing, Evelyn..." he continued, his voice steady, measured, as he closed the distance between them even more. "You love this. You love that I push you, that I see through all the bullshit and go straight to what you really want." His hand slid from her chin to her throat, his fingers curling around her neck - not squeezing, just taunting. She felt the adrenaline coursing through her, but she didn't slap his hand away.

"the truth is, you want to be dominated. You want to be possessed. And you want me to be the one to do it."

Her breath came out in a shaky exhale, her body leaning into him despite her self-preservation.

"I showed you yesterday how rough I can be" he murmured, his eyes studying her reaction. "But that was just a preview, Evelyn. I held back."

He could feel her react to that, the tension in her muscles, the quickened rise of her chest, the widened eyes.

He held back?! she swallowed hard. Fuck.

"Here’s what’s going to happen..." He said softly even though his voice dripping with authority. "I’m going to make you give in to every dark desire you’ve been pretending you don’t have. And you’re going to love every second of it."

His fingers tightened just slightly around her throat, enough to make her gasp, her body tensing again, but this time with something closer to anticipation than fear. He tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck, and he leaned in, brushing his lips against her skin.

His hand moved from her throat to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair. She shuddered beneath his touch.

"Do you want to know how I’m going to handle your defiance?" he asked, his lips touched the soft spot right under her ear. "I’m going to turn it into submission. Slowly. Methodically. Until you don’t want to resist anymore." His hand tightened in her hair as his lips moved to her jaw.

She closed her eyes, tilting her head back, savoring the feeling. Her lips parted and that was when he captured them. he kissed her, hard and demanding, taking her breath away. She gave in and kissed him back trying to keep up with him, her tongue entangled with his. She moaned against his mouth.

When he pulled away from her, his breath ragged, his eyes dark with lust. It made her knees weaken.

He smiled, a slow, lazy grin that made her want to both slap him and kiss him in the same breath.

His eyes flickered to the bathrobe draped loosely around her body, the soft fabric hanging just off her shoulders, teasing him with glimpses of the delicate skin underneath. It wasn’t hard to imagine there wasn’t much beneath it, maybe just a pair of panties, if that. He felt the urge to unwrap her, to expose what she was trying to hide from him. His fingers itched to pull at the knot that held the robe together, to slide it off her shoulders and see the way her body would react when he touched her.

"you know..." he said letting out a sigh, his voice laced with that dark, dry humor he used to get under her skin "that robe is doing a terrible job at being modest. It’s like it’s begging me to take it off you."

Her eyes narrowed, but he could see the way her breath quickened just slightly.

"Maybe it is... Or maybe you're just imagining things." she replied, her tone sharp but with a flicker of vulnerability behind it.

He chuckled, his eyes hungry as they trailed over her. "Am I, though?" His hand reached out, playing almost casually with the collar of her robe, teasing her.

"You can keep playing hard to get, sweetheart" he murmured, his voice dropping lower, filled with that smug, boyish charm that he knew both infuriated and excited her. "But we both know where this is going. You, standing here in nothing but a bathrobe, trying to act like you’re in control. But deep down, you’re just waiting for me to fuck you. To take what you won’t admit you want to give me."

Her jaw clenched, her defiance sparking again, but he could see the way her skin flushed at his words. He was getting to her, and he loved it.

"You’re so predictable, Elias. Always thinking you have the upper hand." she said, her voice barely steady but her tongue still sharp.

He grinned, his hand sliding from her collar to the tie of her robe, fingers playing with the knot. "Predictable, huh? I don’t think you’d call me that after last night."

He winked at her and she huffed at that. She hated how making her infuriated on purpose, amusing him. But before she could say something, hopefully clever and sharp, he tugged gently at the tie of her robe, loosening it just enough that it threatened to fall open, exposing more of her bare skin. His other hand brushed lightly against her collarbone. She was trying so hard to keep her composure, but her body trembled in excitation.

Her lips parted, but he didn't give her the chance to say anything. He let the tie of her robe fall completely, and the fabric parted just enough to reveal a glimpse of her breasts, tempting him. He reached out, his hand sliding underneath the robe, cupping her breast in his palm, his thumb brushing over the nipple.

She gasped, her chest pressing into his touch despite herself, and he grinned at that, his thumb circling her nipple. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her hands gripping the edges of the counter, feeling herself slipping, just like the robe. Her eyes fluttered shut for just a moment when his fingers pinched her nipple.

He leaned in, his lips kissed the side of her neck, his breath hot against her skin. "Look at you" he whispered as he pinched her nipple again, just enough to make her gasp. His gaze flicked downward, settling on her breasts. "Your nipples are so hard right now. You’re practically begging for me to take what’s mine."

She stiffened, her jaw clenched as she tried to resist the effect his words had on her. Her hands gripped the edges of the counter tighter, but he saw through the façade. She was hanging on by a thread, and he was more than happy to cut it.

His other hand slid inside her robe, tracing the curve of her waist. Then he leaned in, his lips closing around her nipple, sucking it into his mouth. Her body jerked in response, a sharp intake of breath escaping her lips. He sucked harder, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak, and he felt her melt against him, her fingers loosening their grip on the counter as her resistance began to slip away.

Her hands instinctively came to his shoulders, not to push him away but to steady herself. Her breath was ragged now, uneven, and he couldn’t help but grin against her skin as he moved to her other breast, capturing the other nipple with the same intensity.

"You taste so good" he murmured between kisses. "And your body... it’s screaming for me. You feel that, don’t you?"

She didn’t answer, but her silence was telling. Her body arched into him, her nipples now swollen and sensitive under his mouth.

His hand moved lower, brushing lightly against the waistband of her panties, his fingers tracing the thin fabric. his lips moved up, grazing the sensitive skin of her neck again, soft at first, then harder, sucking the skin between his teeth.

And then, without hesitation, he slipped his hand further down, pressing his fingers against her pussy.

She gasped softly as she tightened her thighs around his hand, instinctively trying to stop him from discovering just how much she wanted him. But the soft, breathy "Oh God" that escaped her lips told him everything he needed to know. She was already falling apart, and he hadn’t even done much yet.

He pressed his fingers more firmly against her. "You’re already so wet." he whispered as his hand remained trapped between her thighs.

She tried to huff, to show him her annoyance, but instead something between gasp and moan escaped her mouth. Slowly, her thighs relaxed, her legs parting on their own, giving him the access she had been so determined to deny him.

"There it is." his voice a coaxing, teasing purr as his fingers slid against the soaked fabric of her panties. "I knew you couldn’t resist me."

She cursed under her breath, her head falling back slightly giving in to the sensations. "Shut up" she muttered, but the sharpness in her tone was gone. It was weak, breathless, almost pleading.

"You don’t really want me to shut up." he said, reading her correctly. "You want to hear exactly how much I’m enjoying this. How much I love watching you fall apart for me."

He dragged his fingers along her slit, the wetness seeping through the thin material and she gasped again, her nails digging into his shoulders as her hips arched involuntarily. He chuckled, low and dark, reveling in her reaction.

Then he pushed her panties aside. He could feel the slick heat of her arousal against his fingertips, and he groaned softly, the sound thick with desire. His fingers teasing her entrance, just enough to make her shudder. "You’re soaking, you know that?"

Her head snapped back, her teeth clenched. She was so responsive, so utterly vulnerable to him, and he absolutely loved it.

She gasped, her hips bucking against his hand as he pressed his fingers deeper, against the sensitive bundle of nerves that had her legs trembling.

"Admit it." he said, his voice rough and commanding as his thumb began to move against her clit in slow, torturous circles. "Admit you want this. Admit you need this."

Her body responded before her words did, her legs spreading wider, her breath coming in shallow, desperate gasps as her hips rocked against his hand. And he knew, at that moment that she gave in.

"Fuck you for doing this...but please, keep doing this." she said, her voice a mixture of anger and lust.

He chuckled wickedly at her words, loving the contradiction that spilled from her lips.

He pressed her body to hers, trapping her against the counter. "Oh, I’m not stopping. I'm faaar from stopping."

Her hips unconsciously rocking against his hand as he slid his fingers deeper while his thumb pressed over her swollen clit. He could feel how wet she was, how ready and it made his own arousal nearly unbearable.

Her eyes flicked downward, taking in the sight of his bare chest, the muscles flexing as he moved his hand. She could see the hard outline of his hard cock straining against his jeans.

His hand moved faster now, his fingers slipping inside her, eliciting a moan from her lips.

Her breath was ragged, her heart racing as he leaned in, his lips grazing the side of her neck, then moving lower to her collarbone, and lower again, kissing the soft skin of her breast, his fingers working relentlessly between her legs.

"Mmm, you love this, you love my fingers working inside you, don't you, sweetheart?" He purred against her breast.

"Shut up." she muttered, her voice laced with frustration and desire.

His eyes met hers, filled with the kind of hunger that made her pulse race. She felt her muscles tightened around his fingers, aching for release.

With his eyes still on her, he withdrew his hand slowly, making her whimper at the loss of contact, and then he reached down, unbuttoning his jeans, slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. Her cheeks burning, she couldn't bear his gaze on her.

He pushed his jeans down just enough to free his erection, hard and throbbing. Her eyes flicked downward and she bit her lip.

"I’m going to fuck you right here." He stated "Understand?"

She whimpered softly and nodded, her sharp tongue momentarily silenced. She wanted this. She needed this. And she was done pretending otherwise.

He lifted her easily, positioning her on the edge of the counter, his body slotting perfectly between her legs as he pushed her panties aside and pressed the head of his cock against her entrance. He paused, his eyes locking with hers, waiting, wanting to see that last flicker of resistance die in her eyes.

And when it did, when her hands gripped his shoulders and her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, he knew she was his.

Without another word, he thrust into her, hard and deep, making her gasp as her insides stretched to accommodate him. The sensation was overwhelming, he filled her completely, her legs tightening around him as if she never wanted to let go.

He groaned, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled back, then thrust into her again, the intensity of his movements driving all sanity thoughts of resistance from her mind.

He felt her walls tighten around him, She was wet, so fucking wet, and the slickness only made it easier for him to thrust into her with force, stretching her inch by inch.

"Fuck, you feel so tight...” he growled as he buried himself inside her again, harder this time, savoring the way she moaned in response.

She closed her eyes. He felt incredible, almost too big, but he stretched her perfectly, filling her in a way no one else ever had. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her head falling back as she moaned softly, unable to contain the sounds that escaped her lips. "Oh god” she gasped, her breath shaky as she felt another wave of pleasure roll through her body. "This is... it feels so fucking good."

He smirked as he thrust into her again, his cock buried deep inside her as her walls clenched around him. He could feel how close she was, her wetness coating him as he drove deeper, harder. She was falling apart beneath him, her moans growing louder with each thrust, and he knew she was on the edge, teetering on the brink of climax.

But he wasn’t going to let her come just yet. Not until he got what he wanted from her.

He slowed his pace, dragging his cock out of her inch by inch, and she furrowed her brows in annoyance. Her legs tightened around his hips, trying to pull him back in, but he kept her waiting and wanting.

"Not so fast. You don’t get to come until I say so."

She groaned in frustration, her hips bucking against him, desperate for the release that was just out of reach. "Please..." she breathed, her voice barely a whisper as her body ached for him to continue.

"oh, you're begging now? That's cute." He murmured, his hand sliding down her body, his fingers teasing the sensitive clit as his cock hovered just outside of her. "You want to come so badly, don’t you?"

She bit her lip, her eyes fluttering closed as she nodded, too overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her body to speak.

His thumb circling her clit with light pressure as he watched her face contort with pleasure. "Say it" he demanded, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me how much you want it."

She whimpered feeling the tension building inside her, but still, she hesitated. She hated giving him the satisfaction of knowing just how much she wanted him to make her come. But the need was too strong, the pleasure too intense, and she couldn’t fight it any longer.

"I want it." she finally admitted, her voice shaky. "please, I need it."

He smirked, his thumb pressing harder against her clit as he thrust into her again, hard and deep, making her cry out in pleasure. "Good girl" he murmured. "Now come for me."

And with that, he pushed into her with relentless force, his cock filling her completely as his thumb worked her clit, pushing her over the edge. Her body arched against him, her moans turning into breathless gasps as the orgasm crashed over her, her muscles clenching around him as the pleasure ripped through her.

He groaned, feeling her body tighten around him as she came, her wetness soaking him as he continued to thrust into her, prolonging her release. He wasn’t far behind, the tightness of her body, the sounds of her moans pushing him closer to the edge with every movement.

He buried himself deep inside her one last time, his body shuddering as he found his own release, groaning softly against her neck as he came.

For a moment, they stayed like that, unwilling to move.

Finally, he pulled back slightly as he looked at her, searching her eyes. "That wasn’t enough. You know that, don’t you?" His voice was raspy, filled with a promise of more to come. "I’m far from done with you."

And all she could do was whimpering softly.

[araminthe]

Tuesday, 13th of August / Mardi 13 août

────୨ৎ────

Café "Debotte", in Nantes, France.

Sleep / Sommeil : 1am to 11:30am

I'm proud for sleeping before 2am, but I got out of bed late even though I was supposed to wake up at 9:30am.

I was so tired, I guess the day before had made me really tired so I couldn't help but push back my alarm clock 😭.

Health / Santé : Ate alright; not excessively,

(which I can feel proud of, because I do tend to eat too much or snack excessively when I stay at home too much , so I'm fighting against that, and lately it's been nice.)

Today I walked 6500 steps. That's an alright dose of activity (for me).

Study / Études : 20 minutes of revision only. And 20 minutes of reading my book "kilomètre zéro". (It's a French book)

Since I got up at almost 12 today and got out with friends, I had almost no time to work.

And my family always interrupts me so it's hard to study when they're around.

And when I got home after going out, I was tired and my mind could not work, so I forced myself to read two chapters of my book at least.

My day / Ma journée :

Woke up late. Did a few things. Managed to revise for 20 minutes before going out to meet some friends.

For the first time, I got to a café, and it was with 2 bff's on top of that. (It was in my summer to do list so I can cross that) (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭

And we ate some pâtisseries with coffee and hot chocolate.

I ate a "fraisier" with " du chocolat chaud à la chantilly"

The café was empty when we entered so it was just us, and we ate and talked a lot. Since it was just us, we were so comfortable, and the workers were lovely.

Our other friends are traveling so it was just us 3 from the friend group today. (Funny thing, the 2 friends I got out with today both have the same name) ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Then it's already 5pm, we spent an hour talking in the cafe and one of the friend has to go.

So we escorted her and got to the "Fnac" (dunno if y'all know this store, it sells electronic devices and all types of books, it's well-known in France).

We took a tour of the store, just looking around while talking. (Friends really make life experiences a hundred times better ♡♡♡)

Then she also has to go, so I also go, I look around a bookstore that resells books. There was one I'm looking for called "Beach Read", I wanted to buy a used one for cheap but didn't find it. (I could read it in French because I live in France and the book has been translated, but I sometimes like to buy books in English so my English level doesn't decrease. And I'm glad I can buy english books in France, and they also happen to cost less than the french version, which is nice.)

Anyway, I decided to command it in a library, it should be available in less than a week.

Then, I buy some cookies for my hungry brother at home.

And on the way home, I buy myself a bubble tea and a poke bowl.

Wasn't really hungry, so that was my dinner.

When I got home I was just so tired. I wanted to sleep immediately, but it was 8pm, too early.

I preferred to wait until a more adequate sleeping time so I wouldn't wake up in the middle of the night and not be able to go back to sleep for multiple hours. 😔

Anyway, I kept myself busy, read, journaled, right now it's 11:30pm and I will now sleep immediately.

My goal for tomorrow is to wake up at 9am.

(Sleep is my worst flaw right now, and it's the hardest thing for me to improve on, waking up at 9 may seem like nothing for most people, but as ridiculous as it may sound, it's a real challenge for me. And I CAN wake up early if something obligates me, like school or other social reasons. But if it's for myself, it's almost impossible.)

Anyway. I will now sleep and wish for the better.

À plus les chouchous, on se voit demain <3.

By the way, I thought about that only know, but I know right now there are lots of tourists in France because of the Olympic games, and it's even been a few weeks that I hear multiple languages when I go out, like Italian and English, which doesn't happen usually.

Nantes, the city where I live is also part of the 10 most populated cities in France, it's not far from Paris and situated in the West, so it makes sense that people also come to Nantes.

So I was just thinking about that, if some of you are in Nantes right now let me know, I could give out multiple places to visit and lots of things to do. Nantes is an incredible city, there is so much to do.

So let me know. And have an excellent time in France and its beautiful cities. <33

[storiesofsvu]

Alright, it’s finale time. Is anyone else nervous?

I think I’d likely be more nervous is paramount hadn’t released SO many fucking teaser stills from the episode. And I’m not even talking about ones from this week, the one of em all covered in soot and dried blood was released WEEKS ago. And most of the main team has the “Meredith grey/olivia benson effect” where we know that nothing serious is going to happen to them so there’s no stakes when they are about to get shot/blown up/etc.

But then they go and release even more promo pics that are practically spoilers.. like.. what are y’all even doing? At least the tik tok person knows how to run shit LOL.

Anyways, here we go!

Oh GOOD! He’s hallucinating again… wonderful

Okay… what fucking kind of game is going on here? Is frank bullshitting? Are him and jade working together? Who’s actually playing hardball rn??

Okay at least this answers the question of what happened to her vest lol.

“shes injured” I think she’s relatively okay girl, she’s just knocked the fuck out, she’s been through worse..

Ngl it would be a helluva good plot twist if peter b WAS just doug bailey under a different name and he was still alive. I need a fucking INSANE plot twist like that in one of my shows

Im also ngl, I’m hella here for unsub jade. I wish she would have been the primary unsub for the season, a female is bad ass enough but someone as young as her is awesome.

UGH YES BADASS PRENTISS, THANK YOU. Uuugggh yessss using that fucking big brain. I love her so much. I’m so glad we got to see all sides/layers of Emily this season and I can’t wait to see what the rest of the episode holds!

I feel like 55 minutes is NOT enough to fully resolve everything that has happened this season. Like, yeah I know that there’s likely gonna be a cliffhanger but come ON.

How TF is voit in THAT low security of a prison??? That looks like a cheap motel!??

Also.. im not mad about him being a regular (as long as he’s not imaginary) cause Zach is SO good and he’s charismatic and this season he really brought some comedy and major likeability to the character we hated last season

It doesn’t matter what I see doug bailey in he will FOREVER be the guy from Fired Up. Lol.

“the first time I was in the field I threw up…” “really?” “no. I was just trying to make you feel better.” LOOOL.

Jfc there are SO many times paget does her little tongue/lip tick thing

Man I was JUST wondering if we were gonna get more Phil Coulson this season or not

“can we turn down the testosterone for one second?” loooll Rebecca. I love you SO much. She just hates men.

So this ENNNTTIIIRRREEE thing could have been avoided if the director had just put his foot down and told doug no??!!! put the foot down for Emily and threaten her entire career she’s built but let little doug do whatever he wants to try and save  his family’s ass. Uugggh I hate it here

YEEESSS REBECCA WITH THE FUCK. She’s like, 5 foot 2 at the most and her dick is so big, I just know it

AHAHAHAHAHA again voit with the comedy, fucking clown, I love it.

OH MY GOD! The still of Emily walking away from brian she IS SO DONE WITH HIS FUCKING SHIT. She looks SO pissed

God bless everyone who gifs this episode cause I swear its darker than normal. You are all angels.

Emily being tortured like this should not be this hot. LOL

Also like.. a taser’s gotta be tame compared to a branding. Our girl will be fine.

“our special time in the cell”  *gags*

Oooohhhhhkay. THIS is why tyler’s in the field and in an fbi vest. Okay. I take back what I said to the besties earlier

How and WHY is voit not HANDCUFFED.

PENELOPE BEING THE ONE STARING VOIT DOWN OMG YESSSS (and even jj stepping up incase she needs to get inbetween them. LOVE that.)

Not her password (presumably) being a derek call back. This seasons REALLY did a good job calling back to previous cast! (now bring blake back you cowards)

Oh fuck you voit

At least we’re getting some kind of closure on this baugate shit. “neither does your wife” WHAT. Damn jj. YEEESSS DOM! FUCKING JJ COMING OUT TO PLAY. UUGGGHH everyone so fucking hot this episode

PAGET IS SUCH A GOOD FUCKING ACTRESS JFC

The tiniest hint of realization and fear flashing across her face?! Give her all the awards pls.

Okay that was some HORRIBLE continuity. Emily’s hair all mussed up, her bangs falling out of her ponytail all episode and suddenly one of them is curled PERFECTLY.

Holy FUCK luke thank fucking god

Tara and Emily in matching shirts.. girlfriiieeeends (they might not be the same but whatever lol)

“tell me if its real” this is legit our future on all sides of the law now, AI has come WAY too fucking far and it freaks me out.

Uuggghh jaaaadddeeeeee she’s literally been through so much hell and her breaking down to prentiss and Emily saying she knows exactly what she’s talking about and filling in the blanks?!!? UUGGH MY HEART

…where’s tyler… (like jj even said he would get to find out if Emily was alive and ….where tf is he??)

“I am a dad so I know a passive aggressive action report when I see it” HAHAHAH

EXCUSE ME? EMILY IS THE *SECTION* CHIEF!! WOW that mis writing

So…do they only have the budget for garcia’s apartment now?

Ohh.. okay and now tyler’s gonna be a series regular?? God they’re still fucking flirting and there are still vibes there and I do not hate it. Im so sorry.

“Hooray you’re alive” LOOOOLLL Emily deserves that cake like 4 times over

Okay im glad Rebecca and tara are back together and happy but I do really wish we’d gotten a little bit of the “offscreen” development on that.

Jfc the hallucination of voit JUMP SCARE

Okay so most of it got wrapped up pretty well. It looks like jade is getting some help, voit is likely murdered in prison (shade to the cm team who said “someone’s gonna DIE” and all of us were barely concerned and they just made it him.. like.. you guys suck at promo)

I’ll rewatch Sunday or later, but overall, I liked this season. There were moments I was not into it and episodes that I loved. Sometimes that was just the jumping around and sometimes that was likely me being too tired to be able to connect the dots. I wish we’d jumped into things a little quicker and had jade around for more of the season, but I’ll take what we can get!!

Now imma either gonna go start from s3 again OR I’m gonna start with blake’s seasons cause I desperately miss her and I do need to watch the later seasons again….

[hemerae-ramblings]

Last line game

Tagged by @bourbon-ontherocks 🤗 to post the last line of the most recent fic I worked on : since I'm really working out of order on this one, it isn't the last bit I wrote but it works too, same chapter ✨

C’est ridicule, cette familiarité empreinte de distance qu’elle ne connaît pas, et elle resserre les mains sur sa tasse. Le capitaine ne dit rien comme s’il attendait quelque chose d’elle, peut-être une révélation que les souvenirs lui sont revenus pendant la nuit, et elle voit la déception s’installer sur ses traits lorsqu’elle reste silencieuse.

(It's ridiculous, this familiarity tinged with a distance she doesn't know, and she tightens her hands on her mug. The captain says nothing as if he's expecting something from her, perhaps a revelation that memories have come back to him during the night, and she sees the disappointment settle on his features as she remains silent.)

(@bourbon-ontherocks now that you have context...)

Tagging (if you want) : @earanie @pia-writes-things (yes. you've already been tagged. this works because now you have to post 2 lines)

[okimargarvez]

16x10- detailed analysis (2)

Read the first part here.

Scene 5-

Luke runs again to the screen (and Penelope). I can swear that he was all time near, stuck on worry-mode.

Luke asks her What was that?

She replies What a hero. I think Dave figured out how to mess with Voit's system.

He asks Were you recording it? and she You bet I was. He says Let's patch in Tara and Emily and she nods. They said they would have trough this together and they are. They are just a perfect musical chord.

-

Scene 6-

They are talking with Tara. This is the farthest place Luke can stay to keep his eye on her.

It doesn't last long.

Okay, I... Here's the thing. I have done background searches on Elias Voit and Lee Duval all over the Pacific Northwest, and I've come up with a huge amount of zilch.

Luke suggests, with usual kind way Have you... Have you tried any surviving relatives on his mother or his father's side? And she doesn't snark. I'll give that a shot.

-

Scene 7

They catch Elias/Voit/Lee/Sicarius. The bad guy. But he doesn't want to say where is Rossi. Here we are. The same two couples. And also the positions... on a side, JJ and Will, on the other, Luke and Penelope.

Luke asks her What about his burner phone?

And she is not happy about herself. I-I ran that burner's O.S. through decryption software. It detected my intrusion and... Can you see the surprise/shock on Luke face? He always thinks at her as the best. But no disappointment, not a single sign of that.

It took everything I had to keep that encrypted data from not self-deleting. It... It's gonna take me weeks to retrieve it.

Then JJ has the idea to ask Sydney to talk with her husband. And it works! They save Dave.

-

Scene 8-

Back at the BAU. But what happened just a moment ago? Penelope closed TG file. And then she is here, in the place where she has to. In the right moment. But, considering that we have again the same four people, plus Rossi, I can bet that at least Luke goes with her to the hospital, maybe waiting outside (his room or in the parking). Anyway, Kubrick always wins. On the left, JJ and Will, on the right, Penelope and Luke. In the centre, the survived. And here, they act for real like a couple. Wait just a second.

Luke puts his arm on her shoulder. Nothing really weird, here. But.

THIS. THIS. Penelope arm is also around his waist and they seem more couple than married JJ/Will.ù

They both looking for each other eyes and smiling during all the "happy come back" moment. She even more than him!

-

Scene 9-

Where are we? Penelope apartment. We can guess is after Bailey funeral. Then we have little scenes: Luke and Penelope; JJ and Will, Tara, Emily and Rossi. Let's focus on the first.

Too domestic thing. Nothing to add. No, I lied. It's just... he so.. at ease, in this place. And here, now, she seems comfortable, with him, in this moment.

He checks on her, as he always did. How you doing?

But, big difference! This time she doesn't say a white lie (I'm fine - 12x17) or is almost annoyed (G...good - 12x17), nor she avoids his effort (14x3 - no one has time for my sensitivities), and not also tries to escape and gives up with no signs of relief (15x4 - russian stalker) or changes the subject (16x1 - how long has Dave been like this?). No, she just replies with honestly, with a soft voice. And a sad smile.

Mm. I'm... mad, and I'm sad and I...

Oh. I fell into patterns that I promised myself I wouldn't fall back into, but I did.

The face of someone that finally got back the woman he has fallen in love with.

I guess, if people didn't, we might all be out of a job, right? He tries a joke and... wow! She likes it.

Yeah. Tell me this is not the same way he looks at her. I dare you.

But I... I did catch myself, and I did course-correct. ( Sighs ) What's that thing... Can we talk about her soft voice? It's like this is the real first time she is just... her, Penelope, with Luke. I mean, I know they talked about hard themes even before and it wasn't just snarking or joking (she too knew when she said it during their date). But it was like... little frames, while now she is on focus. Totally.

Oh. What's that thing that Emily Dickinson says?

"The heart wants what it wants,

or else it doesn't care."

A lot of thing to say.

First. THE FUCKING WAY HE LOOKS AT HER.

Second. She mentions Emily Dickinson and he immediately catches the exactly quote. I call it... connection. Deep connection.

Third. Do you realize that this was also the official closing quote? Because I just did it.

You know Emily Dickinson? The way she is looking at him here... just kills me. Really. I remember the first time I saw this moment I thought she changed her way to look and also consider him. This is a deep look. Intense. Her doesn't sound like a question. But more like... a statement. And a praise.

And Luke stammers, because maybe... maybe he feels that something is really changed, between them. For the better. I know that quote.

Penelope hits his glass with hers, like in a sort of cheer. Smiling at him. Luke just keeps smiling like an idiot, proud to be.

So, it was a coincidence that last frame we saw from their date was them cheering and the last in this season is exaclty they doing the same, but with a totally different mood? I can say that the kiss would have been the icing on the cake, but... she just closed her... whatever it was, with Tyler, so it's right that they wait. Not too much, though, because I can't wait so long😂

Right now I just want to smile (like Luke) and screaming with happiness. I want to live the moment. Knowing that tomorrow I'll have to find a way to seem less... crazy, at work, because my coworkers can't really understand.

Thank you for reading!

Analysis of garvez scenes

[kilfeur]

Le couple Feligami ne marche pas avec moi (The ship Feligami doesn't work for me)

Je vais être honnête, je vois mal ces deux là en couple. Car déjà Felix dit qu'ils ont plein de points communs. Et ça me fait hausser un sourcil, car à part le fait qu'ils soient tout les deux des sentimonstres. Ils ont rien de similaire, Felix est cruel, horrible, hypocrite et un sacré connard. Kagami en revanche bien que froide au premier abord, elle peut être gentille, attentive, têtue et directe. Elle peut être maladroite dans sa manière de parler mais c'est surtout parce qu'elle n'a pas beaucoup d'expérience sociale.

Surtout que je fais pas spécialement confiance à Felix bien que ses intentions ont l'air nobles et se voit comme le sauveur des sentimonstres. Qui nous dit qu'il va pas manipuler Kagami par la suite pour atteindre ses objectifs ? Oui je sais c'est horrible mais en même temps que voulez vous que je vous dise de plus ?! On ne peut pas se fier à ce qu'il dit, ce n'est pas quelqu'un de fiable. Sans compter qu'il préfère sauver une fille qu'il connaît à peine plutôt que son cousin qu'il connaît depuis l'enfance ?! Y a que moi que ça choque ?! Et puis y a que moi qui trouve ce couple bizarre ? Kagami a de nouveaux des sentiments pour Adrien et doit apprendre à reconnaître ses propres émotions et ses sentiments pour mieux les comprendre. Au début, je me disais peut être qu'on aura un arc émotionnel concernant Kagami qui lui permettra d'en apprendre davantage sur elle même ainsi que sur son ressenti pour enfin se sentir mieux sur ce qu'elle ressent. Sauf que nope, les scénaristes se sont dit que ce serait bien de la mettre en couple avec Felix qui déjà ressemble à Adrien mais qui est aussi connu pour être un sale manipulateur !

Le truc c'est que j'aurai sûrement aimé ce couple si ils n'avaient pas rushé leur relation. Leur relation est basé sur le trope ennemies to lovers et c'est l'un des tropes que je préfère. Sauf que ce genre de relation prend du temps à se construire car mine de rien il est assez complexe à écrire comme n'importe quel relation amoureuse. J'aurai aimé avoir plus de moments montrant leur alchimie, Kagami qui finit petit à petit par tomber amoureuse de Felix mais se sent tiraillée car il est l'ennemi de Ladybug et Chat Noir. Ça aurait pu être intéressant à développer ! Et aussi Kagami n'aurait jamais dû dire à Felix que Marinette était Ladybug, c'était pas à elle de le dire ! 

Mais je sais pas pourquoi les scénaristes ont décidé de rusher leur relation alors qu'il y avait clairement un bon potentiel entre ces deux là.

I'll be honest, I can't see these two as a couple. Because Felix says they've got a lot in common. And that makes me raise an eyebrow, because apart from the fact that they're both sentimonsters. There's nothing similar about them, Felix is cruel, horrible, hypocritical and a real jerk. Kagami, on the other hand, although cold at first sight, can be kind, attentive, stubborn and direct. She can be clumsy in the way she talks, but that's mostly because she doesn't have much social experience.

I don't particularly trust Felix, although his intentions seem noble and he sees himself as the savior of sentimonsters. Who's to say he won't manipulate Kagami to achieve his goals ? Yes, I know it's horrible, but at the same time, what more do you want me to say? You can't trust what he says, he's not a reliable person. Not to mention that he'd rather save a girl he barely knows than his cousin, whom he's known since childhood? I'm the only one who's shocked ?! And I'm the only one who thinks this couple is weird ? Kagami has new feelings for Adrien and must learn to recognize his own emotions and feelings in order to understand them better. At first, I thought maybe we'd have an emotional arc about Kagami that would allow her to learn more about herself and her feelings, and finally feel better about what she's feeling. Except nope, the writers thought it would be nice to pair her up with Felix, who already looks like Adrien but is also known to be a nasty manipulator!

The thing is, I'd probably have liked this couple if they hadn't rushed their relationship. Their relationship is based on the enemies to lovers trope, and it's one of my favorite tropes. Except that this kind of relationship takes time to build up, because it's as complex to write as any love relationship. I would have liked more moments showing their chemistry, Kagami gradually falling in love with Felix but feeling torn because he's the enemy of Ladybug and Chat Noir. It could have been interesting to develop ! And also Kagami should never have told Felix that Marinette was Ladybug, it wasn't her place to say it!

But I don't know why the writers decided to rush their relationship when there was clearly good potential between these two.

[snailsandpuppy-dogtails]

This Time was Different

Garvez wc: 3,657 Posted on Ao3 Reeling from the culmination of catching Voit and all that entailed, Penelope comes to a startling realization, but fears it might be too late.

“Is he dead? Tell me he's dead.” Desperate, accusatory, a tinge of hope; Tyler Green didn’t say anything sweet or loving. He didn’t even say hello by way of greeting the very distressed woman with whom he’d recently begun sleeping with, now standing in his hospital room and quite frankly, he didn’t care. She was his last concern, a wisp of thought if ever there was one.

"Wha-? No. Tyler, no.” Penelope responded quickly, confused. “But you don't- you don't need to worry about that. We'll keep you safe, we’ll look out for you, get you set up- your mom and nephew too. We want to make sure you’re all safe since Voit knows for sure who you are and knows that you can identify him. We can have security posted and cars monitoring. We can order a detail- unmarked…You could even- you could come back and stay with me-" she offered, approaching timidly, hand reaching and faltering to find his own.

Pleading with him. She was pleading with him to drop this vendetta, to accept that Voit would be caught, but he needed to stop interfering for his own safety. He just needed to trust that they could do what she knew they could, knew that they had done countless times before. She knew he had no real reason to trust the team, -her friends- she reminded herself, but he had to know she believed in them, couldn’t that be enough? Wouldn’t her faith be enough for him to have faith too?

He stopped her with an abrupt palm, hand jerking away from her own, expression caged. "That's not what I asked. I asked: Is. He. Dead. Don't tell me he got away again!" Tyler erupted.

She’d never seen this side of him, yelling, furious. She’d seen him cold, distant, and cynical, she’d seen that when they first brought him in. She’d seen what she first interpreted as stoic cruelty when he demanded she not be a part of his work again, but later she decided he was trying to be mindful of her boundaries and emotions. But this, blaming, and loud, and mean, this she hadn’t seen, she didn’t know how to react.

There was something cold in his eyes, and his tone seemed to say “you absolute moron” though nothing like that had been spoken. Penelope flinched, bewildered. "I- I don't understa-"

Tyler laughed mirthlessly, muttering, "Of course you don't." Then more direct, "Don't you get it? I was using you. I've been using you. I told you in the beginning I was using you. When I saw how fast you melted with the cat I knew I had you wrapped. You were a means to an end, Penelope. The only thing I’ve wanted my whole life was within reaching distance with your help, and with the BAU's superior hunters, after all, that's what you all do: hunt serial killers, I would barely have to lift a finger. But somehow you all let him get away! What? Could you not ping Rossi?! I know that’s how you found me! Were you really so blinded by my half-assed attention that you let a serial killer escape rather than follow him?! Jesus christ, you’re more pathetic than I thought! B-e-c-a-u-s-e o-f y-o-u” he enunciated slowly, “he’ll disappear again! Dust in the wind. My one chance fucking GONE. Well let me be clear: you mean nothing to me. Lee dead means everything. My sister means everything."

Her face fell, tears rolling wetly down hot cheeks. "But...You said-“ She jerked her head, clearing the thought. Desperately she clung to the hope of him “I forgive you. I know it's hard-"

But he cut her off, “Did you really think I forgot all about my sister's murder because YOU came into my life? I put you in my life Penelope. It was by design that we worked together. Or did you forget that I knew who you used to be and that I found you? I coerced you into working there again. Why do you think I contacted you instead of just going to the FBI? I knew you wouldn't be able to access everything I needed you to working at ~soar~" Tyler mocked the last part, her safe teen network, her pride and joy.

He was mocking her. Lashing out. He was hurt, she could understand, she would forgive him, they would work through it together."

And yet, somehow you all still failed. I failed. You failed. Lee got away. Again. I thought with your team as backup it would be a sure thing. There's good old American Patriotism for you. So no, Penelope. I do not want to stay at your house. I do not want to be around a cat ever again, and if I never chew on the sponge-like nothingness of another piece of tofu in what’s left of my life, it will be too soon. Leave me alone. Just. Go away. I get nothing out of being with you, romantically, as friends, as anything. You mean less than nothing to me, you’ve been useless.”

Penelope removed her hands from her face, her pink tights covered leg pressed solidly next to dark jeans. Luke sat in the waiting room with her, hand rubbing comforting circles to her back between breaks of sobbing and rambling about Tyler. This was part of being a good friend, this was part of being what she needed.

As much as he didn't want to, as much as every fiber of him was pulling, leaning, reaching for her, he pulled away, breaking their kiss.

She felt herself confused and sad, staring back at him, questioning, caught in the anger in the eyes mere inches from hers.

They were outside her apartment, it was dark.

Luke unwound her hands from his neck, taking a step back. "Look, Penelope, I Know you're hurting. And please, don’t get confused, I do feel for you, I do love you, you know that, I think. But you have a lot to work out. This isn't fair to me, I need to know the person I love loves me too. Not just for what I can give them or how I can make them feel in the moment, but because they really, genuinely, unselfishly love me. I'm not willing to risk it again just to be tossed aside and insulted to my face and treated as a... a... an acquaintance.” There was a hardness to his voice, it wasn’t the soft and warm velvet pillow she found frequently in the comfort she sought from him.

He went on stepping further away, cold air rushing in, “How you treat me is hurtful and offensive. And maybe it's my fault for always letting it slide, making room for you to grow the way you need to in the time you need to. But the problem there was you never ended up growing...anywhere towards me. Not unless it was convenient for you. I'm not a tissue to wipe away your tears after someone's wronged you. I'm a person who needs love and affection, but hell I’d settle for some respect at this point. So no, Penelope, I'm sorry, I can't be with you tonight. As much as I want to be, I need to be with my girl, nursing my pain, feeling my loss, and trying to move on."

Penelope Garcia woke up sobbing.

She’d been doing that a lot lately, waking up wet with tears or a dry sob caught in her throat. Sometimes they ended up together, sometimes, she called it off, sometimes he died, and one really horrific time he turned into Battle and shot her there in the hospital. That time she’d had to get up and make some tea and watch baby animal videos online until it was time to get ready and she was all zombied out.

She knew what it was, she knew what they meant, the dreams. They weren’t good for each other. What he’d done the deepest parts of her could not excuse. But this was the first time Luke had been involved and that rattled her. The anger in his eyes, his feelings glowing around him like an aura. For some reason the pain of a hurting Dream-Luke and Dream-Luke shutting her out was worse, felt worse than losing Tyler.

She hadn’t really hurt him like that, had she? She didn’t act like that with him, did she? And he didn’t care for her that deeply…certainly didn’t looo-. No. Luke didn’t. They’d decided.

But waking up, her whole chest clenched and ached and every string and sinew in her pulled, leaned, reached- just like she’d felt him do in the dream-for her phone.

To call him.

To ease her newly troubled mind. They were fine, right? He wasn’t going to leave her. He wasn’t abandoning her. And he certainly didn’t love her. They seemed fine sitting off together away from everyone else in her apartment after Bailey’s funeral…He’d poured her and himself more wine and they sat together and she tried to explain away her awful and selfish decisions of late and he was so understanding.

He was always so understanding.

And then he pulled out that quote and it was just the one she’d been trying to think of. Just the one. But did it fit? Was it that her heart wanted Tyler? Or was it that her heart wanted to protect itself from the possibility of getting hurt? If you’re with someone you know deep down you don’t love- couldn’t love…you can’t get hurt.

At that her thoughts drifted back to Luke. Back to when he’d first joined the team. What was she doing then? Why was she so rude? Yeah, he was nearly disrespectfully handsome and cavalier about it. But he wasn’t ever anything but sweet, friendly Luke. It didn’t even come off all that disingenuous. He was the new kid and she treated him with as much contempt as a school yard bully. There was nothing she needed to protect herself from except maybe the possibility of…

No.

She was just upset about Derek, that’s all. And then Luke came in all armed and ready to take over. To fill the void. He couldn’t possibly. She had to let him know that, know that one person at least wasn’t going to just let him slide right in.

But she did ease up…and she’d told him she was glad he was there once that finally became true (once she was made to realize she might be acting a bit heavy handed).

Her chest ached a little more thinking about Luke and Morgan together. Luke wouldn’t leave her like Morgan had, would he?

When lockdown started she shoved everyone away before they could get wrapped up in their own lives and forget about her…Everyone but Luke. She knew he didn’t have a whole lot around the area, he had Rox, that was about it. She had Serg. They were kind of fitting in that regard. But she felt him getting closer then and shut him out harder. Requesting he give her a heads up before coming over, limiting their time together…pulling faces and making comments more similar to when they first met. Hurtful. Cutting. She was putting distance between them. She was hurting him. On purpose.

She leaned on him -leaned into him so much. And he’d never been anything but supportive. But the second he showed he might need a little more from her she ran for the hills. What kind of friend did that? She never reacted that way with Morgan, with Spencer, with JJ or Emily… And the thought of him leaving her now scared her more than anything.

The possibility of those over-steeped tea toned eyes looking at her like that- like they had in the office that day- even just for a second…That’s where those eyes had come from. He’d never looked at her like that before. The anger and offense highlighted with flecks of wounding. She did hurt him, but she was too self-absorbed to see it then. Too wrapped up in drama of her own making to catch it. But why would that garner those emotions in him? That wasn’t a regular grossed out oversharing reaction, Luke was furious and crushed. If he wasn’t about to yell at her about putting the team and the case on the line…he was about to yell for other reasons.

And then the date started replaying in her head. How off it’d been. How strangled he sounded. She thought he wasn’t feeling it, she thought he was just being nice, polite Alvez and sparing her feelings, so she jumped in to let him know it was fine, it wasn’t too late to put a stop to it, there were no hard feelings…

Except it stung a little. She did like him, but she didn’t want another date with a completely stunningly attractive person to go bad, couldn’t handle it, so she cut it off hard.

Maybe a little harder than the situation called for…

She said they were better as friends.

She lied.

She said she could only talk to him when she was making fun of him.

That wasn’t true.

She shut it down.

Seeing his expression in her mind again, replaying that scene, she realized he didn’t really respond…but his face did. And oh fuck. She’d done it again.

Penelope began to hyperventilate, her heart beating rapidly unable to stop her quickening breath. This was ludicrous, outrageous, Luke Alvez was not, had not been in love with her! He would have said something! He would have told her that night he didn’t mean clunky as in no attraction! He’d be over it by now if he had liked her years ago… Right?

What in the ever loving. She needed him to tell her. To confirm he was just mad about the case…Mad in the way a friend is mad at you for getting them in trouble too, mad in the way that guys got mad when you told them too much, like Derek got when she told him too much. Hell, he’d even gotten weird and mad when she started dating Kevin, that didn’t mean he had a secret long-standing crush on her!

Penelope threw off the blanket and lunged out of bed dashing to the door to put distance between hand and phone- Calling anyone this early from a dream-induced panic was not a good idea- She then turned abruptly and marched back to her night stand- No, she needed to know- Losing nerve she jerked herself away back to the foot of her bed, down, shoes? No. Back to the night stand. NO. Back towards her bedroom door. Stop it! And back to the night stand. She snatched her phone and hit his number before cooler thoughts prevented it again. It only took one ring before the line connected. Even then her body jerked back towards the door, but her feet stayed rooted, a needle pinning her heart.

He sat up, grabbing his phone, and answered blindly, “-Alvez”

The voice on the other end was not the reserved sound of his boss he’d expected from a sleep-waking call, instead it was shrill and loud.

“You LOVE ME?! LUKE ALVEZ DO YOU LOVE ME?! Like you are IN LOVE. With. Me? BEEN in love with me?!”

Shit.

Penelope. Of course. He glanced at his alarm clock, red glowing numbers flashing. It was too early, and yet this made perfect sense. If Penelope Garcia was going to have a potentially life jolting epiphany, it would be in the middle of the night. Probably from some dream about an all cat-run circus.

He was still half asleep but training made him capable of operating like this. He considered lying to her, letting it go. She was in love with someone else just about three weeks ago, willing to risk everything for them. Was she really ready to face the truth of his feelings for her now?

A hand ran through his hair and he laid back down, eyes closing. “Yeah. Yes, Penelope, that would appear to be the situation. But don’t worry, you’ve made it perfectly clear you do not feel the same way about me.”

“But-“ She was at a loss for words. Luke, their Luke, loving, kind, polite and sometimes sassy Luke loved her? Had Loved her this whole time. Hadn’t been deterred, hadn’t changed a bit, didn’t treat her any different after she insisted they were kind of less than friends. Did she love him? Did he want to know? Of course she liked him a lot, he was very likable. And she found him very attractive, who wouldn’t. But did she love him? Would she be willing to admit it if she was? To be so vulnerable as to love someone openly romantically?

There was a long period of silence between them as these thoughts and more went through her head.

“Penelope, are you still there?” His sleep honeyed voice made her toes curl, breaking her from her thoughts.

“Yeah.” Just reconsidering everything I’ve known and thought for the past ten years.

“Are you ok?” It wasn’t like her to be this kind of quiet, Penelope and this kind of quiet meant bad things, negative things. He needed to know what she was thinking, how she was processing this. If they would be ok when they saw each other in a few hours.

Now, it was Luke’s turn to crush her. Even with how she’d been treating him since the date, he was still putting her first. His question locked around her heart like a fist and squeezed, pulverizing it.

She breathed out a laugh. “I think it’s more fair that I ask you that considering.”

He rolled the hem of his comforter between thumb and forefinger in the dark as he thought, “Maybe. But it’s fair to assume this is a pretty big shell to have dropped on you.”

Penelope dropped to the edge of her bed, some of the shock of the revelation wearing off. Luke Alvez loved her. And she’d been a total asshole to him and she’d run away from him. Dream-Luke was right, she really needed to work on herself. Tristian was not as helpful as she’d thought.

“Don’t do that. Don’t be all sweet and understanding and forgiving. I don’t deserve it.”

He considered it, for a moment. Could he be rough with her? Did she deserve it? “Did you know?” He could hear the pain and regret in her plead, or maybe he just wanted it to be there.

“No…Maybe? Not really, but I think somewhere inside…I did.”

Luke nodded his understanding though she couldn’t see it. “The dinner-”

“I don’t know what to say, except I was stupid and afraid.”

A corner of his mouth pulled up, bittersweet. “I kind of figured.”

“That doesn’t excuse how awful I’ve been to you though.”

“Have you been? Felt just like old times again.”

Penelope laughed, it wasn’t fair he was making this so easy. He should yell at her, put her in her place, hang up, tell her she’d lost her chance. Tell her this new person she’d been acting as was no one he loved, much less liked.

He wasn’t letting hope flutter, she called out of the blue, late at night after finally seeing it, but that didn’t mean…anything at all. But she was willing to talk, and from what he could tell, was willing to be honest with herself right now.

He thought, might as well… “Can I ask; has the being afraid changed? Does knowing change that for you?”

She chewed her cheek, thinking, wanting to give him as honest an answer as she could. “I’m not sure. I want it to. I want- I. Do you want to get some coffee? And maybe…talk. In person. I know I have a lot to make up for, to apologize for. But I want to talk about this in person. Over coffee."

Luke glanced back at the clock, most places wouldn’t be open, but he knew the one she was thinking of would be. “Now?”

“Well, I need to get ready…It’s not like I was up already, dream-you kind of shamed some sense into me and I couldn’t escape the need to call.”

He felt a twist in his gut. Despite his best efforts to not get up hope some had just creeped in. This was serious, possibly more so than the first time…More on the line now that they were both acknowledging his feelings, and yet he couldn’t help but lighten the mood. “Dream me, huh? Dream-me ever do anything Waking-me hasn’t? ”

“Hush. Meet me at Lunacorn in an hour?”

“Half an hour, less time for you to work up nerves and not show up.”

Penelope grinned, “Luke, perfection takes time…and I kind of don’t think I will this time...get nervous.”

He was already starting the shower, “45 minutes.”

She could hear the water jet out, sensed how eager he was, and yet, still no panic striking. Instead, a goofy smile was spreading and something warm and swishing was filling her insides.

“Okay?” he prompted.

“Okay.” she agreed, giving a brief nod.

The smile he could hear in her quiet assent gave Luke some reassurance. This time was different.

“45 minutes.” she repeated. “See you then.” Penelope hung up, walking to her bathroom.

Maybe the fear she was so used to would come, maybe that runner’s instinct would kick in when she saw him, but all she was focused on was that Luke had loved her, still loved her, and wasn’t put off. Deep down she knew she was safe with him, and that’s what the fear had been about. This time was different.

This time would be different.

[ecle-c-tic]

Violet, azalea, tiger lily

YOU ARE SO SWEET THANK YOU! 😘💛💛💛💛💛💛

i hope both sides of your pillow are cold! <3

--

violet— do you like to cook or bake? if so, what is it that you like to make?

I LOVE COOKING AND BAKING AND FOOD! It's art and love and warmth and comfort and culture and history in one. Eating someone's food is merely getting to know them. I'm really into bread making atm! I might make some pretzels tomorrow. But I love being able to take things perfected by nature, doing some fuckery with fire and making a story!

azalea— what is the most recent song you listened to? how do you feel about it?

Kiss by Prince. so good, a whole ass vibe. it makes me want to dance and that bass line is impeccable.

tigerlily— do you have any favorite quotes from any movies, tv shows, books, or poetry? (or from people in real life)

I have a whole wall full of sticky notes (eek!) but here are a few/newest of my favourites! (some of them I can't remember off the top of my head whoops!)

Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto.I am human, and think nothing human alien to me (Terence)

Timendi causa est nescire - Ignorance is the cause of fear (Seneca)

I'm under absolutely no obligation to make sense to you (Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo)

Strummers Law; no imput, no output (Joe Strummer)

Spiegare cos'è il colore a chi vede bianco e nero (Maneskin)

As she realized what might have been, she grew to be thankful for what was (north and south)

Although I search myself, it's always someone else I see (Don't let the sun go down on me"

I ain't gonna face no defeat (STL)

Do something, my sister, do good if oyu can; but, at any rate, do something. (north and south)

Music comes out of silence and at the end it goes back to it. It's a journey. You see? (cant remember but its stuck up lol)

Some day this pain will be useful to you (island of missing trees)

I have found that it is the small everyday deed of ordinary folks that keep the darkness at bay. Small acts of kindness and love (Tolkien)

They had never struggled, and only a struggle twists sentimentality and lust together into love (Forster; Maurice)

Yes, every morning I face the sun, I get so positive with everyone (Queen)

On ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur (le petit prince)

that's probably enough lol

Flower asks 🌻

THANK YOU

[blackbird-brewster]

Emily/Rebecca, Tara/Rebecca || Rated: E || WC: 22,100+ (WIP)

Summary:

Rebecca and Emily have an extremely unexpected and ill-advised one-night-stand. Now, they have to navigate working together while keeping their secret from getting out. Meanwhile, Tara is still holding out hope she and Rebecca can work things out and get back together. And JJ struggles with her own secret.

CHAPTER FOUR NOW POSTED

It had been almost a week since Voit whispered three words to Luke that changed JJ's life forever.

Injure. Jane. Fear.

An anagram for 'Jennifer Jareau' that turned out to be the password for a site on the dark web that was worse than anything else JJ had seen in all of her years at the FBI, because this site was full of nothing but deepfake pornography of her.

When Luke first brought up BAU-gate, JJ laughed, because that was extremely old news. Back when she was still the media liaison, there had been a site on the dark web specifically targeting members of the BAU, mostly full of trolls posting ridicule and hentai drawings of the female agents. Upon finding out about it, the FBI contacted Homeland Security and they took care of it. JJ had heard rumours back then, but to the best of her knowledge the site had been taken down and that was the end of the scandal.

Except, it wasn't. The site had been rebooted at some point and instead of being about ridiculing the team, the entire purpose had changed to be a collection of tons and tons of compromising images of JJ. Only JJ. In hindsight, she wished Luke never told her, she wished he'd never given her the password, never explained what the site really was, but he had and so she decided to see it for herself.

JJ had been abducted, tortured, beaten, and even shot in the line of duty. She'd seen horrific crimes, faced some of the worst serial killers in history, interviewed more sick and twisted men than she cared to count, yet none of that affected her as much as seeing fake nudes of herself on a darkweb site known to Elias Voit and presumably, his entire network of serial killers.

She hadn't slept in days, she couldn't focus, couldn't keep food down, she couldn't even kiss Will without feeling sick. She wanted to break every mirror or reflective surface she came across, because just looking at herself made her stomach churn. Her entire personhood had been violated, her body felt foreign like it was no longer hers, now that it had been stolen and manipulated into these faked versions. Even if the new site was taken down, the internet was forever. Those images already existed, they'd been circulated and shared, meaning there would never be a way to scrub every copy of them from the web and that was the part that killed her.

[ohallthecrushes]

You're a storm in a teacup and I'm starting to like the chaos.

I feel like I'm the only one who actually write for Elias. xd Wish there were fanfics about him being a main character and not just a side villain to the story.

Without further ado!

Summary: Evelyn is a young-troubled woman who’s just escaped a highly guarded psych ward (twice, but this time causing havoc on her way out)

Now she’s running through the city, hiding from police. A not-so-accidental encounter with a man named Elias Voit will change her life forever. And she’ll change his. His seemingly selfless help is laced with danger, hidden agenda, manipulation, endless tension, and…love? Slow burning inteligent-idiots-in-love trope. But mind you, just because it’s a love story, doesn’t mean it ends well.

General warnings throughout the story: Manipulation, illegal activities, murder(s), Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, explicit content, language… The whole pack. It’s Criminal minds after all.

In this episode: All work and no play make Elias a dull boy. But boredom and attraction is a dangerous mix.

For the past two days, Evelyn had been growing accustomed to the routine in the cabin. Elias needed her insights occasionally, and she had provided them the best she could. However when she wasn’t consulting with him, she spent most of her time alone in her room, lost in thought. She wasn't soaked in miserable thoughts though. With each passing hour, she began to reassess her situation. Here, she had her belongings, security, food, and a comfortable bed. And compared to the institution and the frantic days on the run, this wasn't so bad.

No, she wasn't truly free, but the deal she had made was temporary, so all she needed to do was to wait till Elias wouldn't need her help anymore, hopefully soon. And even if he decided to change the conditions of the deal, she believed that she could eventually turn the tables in her favor. She had faced worse situations and survived; this was just another challenge.

The only other thing she had to deal with was growing boredom. With nothing else to do, she rummaged through her unpacked belongings like in a treasure chest, until her fingers brushed against something she hadn't noticed before – her old iPad. Music! Her lifeline, her solace, her personal therapist! And a great killer of time.

Bless Elias, for whatever reason, he had taken it from her apartment.

Smiling, she plugged in her headphones and turned on the device picking up a song. Soon music filled hear ears and her wary head with a positive energy she needed so much. She closed her eyes, letting the music transport her to a place where worries and fears faded away. Her body feeling the rhythm, started swaying slowly until her feet led her to the middle of the room.

Meanwhile with less rhythmical tempo, Elias paced the living room, feeling boredom settled over him.

Two days. Two damn days cooped up in that room. He'd expect her defiance to be a constant off-note in the air, a challenge for him, a source of excitement. Instead, silence. She only emerged for meals, quick showers, and when he called her to use her skills. It was almost… disappointing. What was the point of having her here if she acted like she wasn't?

Normally, he'd go out, find some entertainment, another victim to play with. But with Evelyn here, he didn't want to leave her entirely alone. Not yet. Not until he found a way to ensure she wouldn't run.

Stupid. She was nothing like he'd imagine. Where was the spark, the fight in her eyes? Was she planning something? Plotting an escape in her room? Or worse, plotting against him?

He wondered if perhaps he'd made her too comfortable. Maybe she adapted a little bit too quickly. He needed to lure her out, engage her, see what was inside that pretty head of hers. With a sigh, he headed towards her room to see what was she doing.

When he slowly opened the door, he was met with an unexpected sight. Evelyn was slowly dancing to music, her eyes closed, headphones on her head, body swaying to the rhythm... She looked so different, so relaxed and at ease.

He definitely had made her feel too comfortable.

He watched her, a slow grin spread across his face when he thought of something. He approached her quietly, taking advantage of her closed eyes. She didn't see him, didn't hear him. When he was close enough, he poked her shoulder. She jumped slightly, her eyes snapping open in surprise. She glared at him, clearly unamused, as she took her headphones off.

He smirked, trying to act innocent. "Didn't mean to startle you."

She narrowed her eyes at him, not fooled. "Sure you didn't." she replied.

He looked at her for a moment before he reached for her iPad. "What song are listening to?" he asked with curiosity.

She snatched it away before he could see.

Ah, there it was. The fight he'd craved.

"Easy tiger, just wanted to know what's made you so relax." he teased.

"None of your business," she retorted.

He pushed further. "Pop ballad?" he guessed, dragging out the words in a sing-song voice. "Heavy metal anthem for the misunderstood soul?" he paused before furrowing his brows in a mocking disbelief. "Gospel choir?"

She chuckled despite herself at his ridiculous predicament. She knew he was only teasing her, not really trying to guess. With a hesitation she stepped closer to him and slipped the headphones over his head.

"Here, that's the song." she murmured.

The music filled his ears - a slow alt-rock song. He didn't know the title, but he liked the alluring melody.

my hearts been empty, my thoughts depressed what I'm needing baby is your your sweet caress your soft caress

As he looked at her still standing very close due to the short cable of her headphones, their eyes met, their bodies invaded their personal space, creating something unexpectable; a moment of intimacy that caught them both off guard.

you, the only light in this room yours, the only blood I can taste

The words and the music set the atmosphere very quickly. For a moment, he didn't pull away, didn't break the eye contact, watching her reaction. His eyes lowered to her lips and her cheeks flushed a light pink as she guessed his thoughts. She quickly took a step back.

Self-concious, she thought to herself What the hell was that? Their situation was already messed up enough. This, this unwelcome attraction, was the last complication she needed.

She decided to break the tension and snatched the headphones back, her eyes avoiding his intense stare. "Well? uhm... Did you like it? The song I mean."

He blinked, the intensity in his gaze dimming slightly.

"The song... was nice, very mood setting." he admitted, his voice low.

The truth was, the unexpected intimacy had surprised him as well. He'd been trying to draw her out, to make her engage with him, and for a moment, something entirely else had happened. And the strange thing was... he wanted to explore that further, even though he knew better than anyone the dangers of letting emotions get in a way, especially with someone as unpredictable as Evelyn.

But boredom and attraction was a dangerous mix.

"In other circumstances I'd ask you for a dance..." he teased her to see her cheeks getting even more red. "But we have more important things to do."

So getting back to more... professional arrangement, he asked her to come with him to the living room to help him with another task. And she thanked in her thoughts that he mentioned work. This was something she could handle better than emotions and a sudden moment of unwanted attraction.

The little tasks he'd given her were getting easier to do, though she still was figuring out how to use his network to her advantage. She knew all to well that she had to prove herself to be useful otherwise their agreement, their deal would be broken. As much as she was tempted to mess things up, to give him false opinions so to put his network in danger, she couldn't. He was not easily fooled and she didn't have all the details to know how exactly his network worked. It was a great obstacle, but maybe she could still devise something?

"Is there anything more challenging than that?" She asked as she feigned interest. "Maybe a field trip? Or something more complicated I can work on alone?"

He looked at her reading her facial expression. He wasn't surprised by her boredom, but he also knew that she wasn't invested enough to actually look for something more ambitious.

"Bored, are we?" he saw right through her ploy, but pretended like he didn't. "There's definitely more challenging work." he admitted, leaning back on the sofa. "But trust is earned, not demanded. Field trips, as you so delicately phrased it, are a privilege, not a right."

The implication was clear, she hadn't earned that level of freedom yet. She bit her inner cheek in dissatisfaction.

"But..." he continued. "earn my trust first, impress me. Show me you can handle the basics flawlessly, that your mind is as sharp as I believe it to be. Then, and only then, can we discuss expanding your… horizons."

It was a carrot dangling just out of reach. A challenge of a different sort. Just not the one she wanted. "Alright." she conceded. "Challenge accepted."

When the task was done, he put away the laptop and stretched his shoulders. He glanced towards her, expecting her usual retreat to her room. But instead, she lingered, her eyes looking at tv. She hesitated for a moment. “You mentioned there’s a PlayStation here.” she says. "Mind if I play something?"

"Sure, why not?" he replied surprised and shrugged. "Be my guest."

He walked over to tv and reached for the controller, turning the console on. From his perspective, most of the games looked like childish things. But he was curious to see what she'd choose.

She scanned the list, until her finger pointed at a title adorned with a grotesque, pixelated monster. "This one." She said grinning.

His eyebrows shot up. "Horror survival, huh?"

He clicked play and handed her the controller. He settled back on the sofa watching her navigating through the game. He could see an obvious message in her selection. She was trying to show him her ability to handle fear and pressure. It was amusing though. Horror games had nothing to do with the real horror he had witnessed, but it was still impressive how easily she maneuvered through the quests and her reaction on what was happening on the screen. The amusement in her eyes as the game threw jump scares at her was unexpected. Where others might scream, she giggled with a thrill. The occasional curse word slipped through her lips when a particularly difficult enemy appeared, but it was clear she wasn't scared, she was… entertained.

As the game progressed, he found himself watching not just the screen, but her reactions. He couldn't deny there was something captivating about seeing her navigate the dark, digital world full of monsters and gore.

The final boss was defeated after a long battle and she leaned back with a triumphant grin on her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Elias watching her attentively. Mission was accomplished. She'd proven her point, but she wasn't done yet. Reloading the game to the last save point, right before the epic battle, she thrust the controller into his hand. "Your turn." she declared.

He stared at the controller with a question in his eyes. Did she seriously expect him to play a childish horror game? He was a man who directed real-world horrors, not silly digital nightmares.

"Scared you can't handle it?" she teased, her grin widening.

The word "scared" wasn't something he would feel. More like nah, but he couldn't say no to a little competitiveness.

"Please..." With a sigh that was half-amused, half-exasperated, he grasped the controller and leaned forward towards the screen.

She watched him with keen interest. He lacked the... finesse, but he compensated with sheer brute force, charging at the monster mercilessly. He had a different kind of strategy, but it was working nonetheless. His brow furrowed in concentration, his fingers flying across the controller buttons. Watching him playing also gave her a chance to admire his features. His jawline, his nose, his arms, his eyes...Damn, there was something in him that made her thoughts cruise towards dangerous concepts and she couldn't figure why.

Distracted she almost missed the ending of the battle when with a one final click, the creature crumpled, dissolving into a pool of blood.

She clapped her hands slowly. "Not so bad."

"Not so bad?!" he asked feigning being offended. "I've basically smashed him without giving him a chance to react."

She chuckled. "Alright, you’ve got skills, you killed the monster...almost as fast as I did."

He looked at her, slightly smiling. Her playful teasing and a video game might not be the kind of entertainment he had hoped for, but it was something that killed his boredom at least.

"Another round?" he asked giving the control pad back into her hand.

The next morning, Evelyn found herself alone in the kitchen. As she munched on a piece of toast, a movement on the floor caught her eye. When she looked down she saw a small black spider, no bigger than a pea.

"Well, hello there." she murmured, crouching down. She cupped her hand, gently coaxing the spider onto her palm. "Lost your way, little guy? Stuck inside this big cabin, just like me?"

Passing by, Elias heard her voice and curiously stepped into the kitchen to see who she was talking to. He leaned against the doorway. Evelyn, oblivious to his presence, continued her one-sided chat.

"Looks like we both need a little fresh air, wouldn't you agree?" she said, her voice gentle.

There was a moment of silence, then a soft chuckle escaped his lips. Talking to a spider? Somewhat charming in its own way.

She jumped, startled, the spider nearly tumbling from her hand. She turned to Elias.

"He seems a little lost..." she said glancing at the spider. "Do you mind if I let him out?"

"Front door's locked, of course." he said, his voice dry. "But if you're truly intent on releasing your eight-legged friend…" He reached into his pocket, pulling out a key.

Her eyes lit up. "Thank you." she exclaimed. "I wouldn't want to keep him prisoner, you know."

Her obvious suggestion made him roll his eyes. Kept thinking she was a prisoner of his? Even after the last night of gaming? He sighed, leaving it without a comment.

He walked to the front door. He unlocked it with a soft click and opened it wide, letting in the fresh morning air. He watched as she stepped outside, carefully lowering her hand to the ground. The spider scurried off into the grass.

As she straightened up her eyes lingered on the sun-dappled expanse of trees beyond the porch. She hadn't been outside since she had gotten here. It made her feel sad.

She turned around to Elias, and almost hesitantly, the words tumbled out of her mouth. "Can we go for a walk?" She knew he wouldn't let her venture out alone, but maybe he'd go with her?

He raised an eyebrow, studying her for a long moment. He wasn't naive. He tried to deduct if there was a hidden motive behind her request for fresh air. The chance that she'd try to run away again was high, but... There was also an opportunity for her to earn his trust. And he was curious to see what she'd choose.

"Alright, but behave yourself." he finally answered. "And don't even think about trying anything… foolish."

Her heart started to beat a little faster. "I promise." she said. "Just a walk. That's all."

With a slow nod, he conceded. "Alright. Let's go."

The crisp air, the scent of pine, the sunlight on her face – it was a sensory fulfillment for Evelyn. Nature, with its chaos and beauty, had always held a special place in her heart. She loved hiking, jogging in parks, walking in woods... It made her feel at peace, relaxed. But this time, this walk with Elias was laced with uncertainty and she couldn't stop feeling a nervous anticipation. She couldn't enjoy the walk that way. Not with his watchful presence like a shadow at her back. His distrust felt almost physical.

She turned her head and glanced at him, wondering. If he truly believed she was an immediate escape risk, wouldn't he have kept her locked inside? Maybe this walk was to test her trustworthiness? Or maybe, a thrill-seeker himself, he secretly counted on a little rebellion?

She stopped abruptly, causing him to stumble slightly in surprise. Turning, she tilted her head towards him.

"A little space, Elias?" she suggested. "I did promise not to disappear into the woods, after all." She paused before she took a risk, teasing "Although, a friendly jog might be tempting. Running and jogging are two entirely different things, right?"

He narrowed his eyes trying to see if she was joking or not. Jogging could easily be a prelude to a full-on escape attempt. Surely she didn't expect him to fall for that, did she?

"Yeah, sure... try and jog to freedom, we'll see how far can you get." he mocked.

"Probably farther then the last time." she murmured more to herself than to him. It wasn't an extend attempt to tease him further, but the words escaped her mouth before she stopped herself.

"I was joking." she quickly added unsure of his reaction.

He smirked. "Fine. A little space. But remember." he continued "don't push your luck too far. The woods may be vast, but my patience isn't."

She glanced back at him, as he stepped back, giving her more space, but his gaze was locked on her every move. No threat though. No anger. Was that… a challenge in his eyes?

Taking a deep breath, she started walking away, slowly at first, pushing the boundaries of the space he'd granted. She kept him within sight however, trying to see if he reacted in any way.

He felt amused watching her hesitant retreat. The confusion in her eyes, the temptation to run and the fear that stopped her from acting on her instincts, were enterteining.

Part of him, the pragmatic part, wanted her to behave. He required her cooperation. And a runaway Evelyn was a useless Evelyn.

But another part of him wouldn't mind the chase, the thrill of the hunt. If she was to disobey, to run, he could catch her once again. And he wouldn't deny enjoying it as a distraction from the usual monotony.

Yet he saw a shift in her. A defeated sigh escaped her lips. She wasn't going to run. Self-preservation won of course. Slowly, she began to walk back towards him.

"Done testing the boundaries?" he asked. There was no accusation in his tone, just a hint of curiosity.

She looked at him. "Not exactly." she replied. "But I won't run. I'm not stupid enough to shatter whatever tiny trust you have in me, that results in giving me this... freedom."

The word trust stayed with him. He studied her for a long moment, searching for any sign of deceit. But all he saw was a woman who, despite her defiance, was making a good reasonable choice.

"But you want to run or at least try just for the thrill of it." he simply stated. "if you weren't scared for your life, you'd hare off into the woods before I could blink twice."

She shrugged. "Maybe..." she felt irritated how easily he could read her. "But it doesn't matter, cause you wouldn't let me even think about it, am I right?"

"Maybe...." he pondered. "Or maybe I would."

His words surprised her. She stopped and turned to him. "You would...let me think about it?"

He glanced at her. "Depends, are you feeling restless?"

"Should I be?" she asked suspicious as she crossed her arms.

He shrugged. "Last evening we competed over a video game. You challenged me and it was... fun." he paused thinking about his next words. "Maybe in return I can offer you a similar activity to satisfy your primal urge to run without it being a constant itch for both of us."

She slightly tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

He smirked. Chaos could be an asset, if it was controlled chaos.

He couldn't deny a perverse pleasure in this constant push and pull with her, so maybe there could be a way to satisfy both their desires.

He outlined the rules of this little game he'd just created. She would have a head start, a chance to run back to the cabin. If she reached the safety of the porch before he caught her, he would grant her… a temporary reprieve. More freedom of her choosing.

But there was a catch. The run had to be to the cabin, and nowhere else. Stray from the designated path, and the game was over. He would catch her, eventually, but the consequences of breaking the rules wouldn't be pleasant.

"Think of it as running on a leash." he finished.

She furrowed her brows. She understood the thrill of the chase, the adrenaline rush... Yes, it would help her release the restless energy and even perhaps create a temporary satisfying illusion of running away from him. And if she won, she'd have a chance for more freedom. But she saw that this game was more of a twisted form of amusement designed solely for his entertainment, then anything of a real value for her.

"A leash?" she spat. "I'm not a dog, Elias."

He sighed. Why did she always have to niggle over everything he said? Couldn't she just accept the damn game, play by his rules for once?

"Look." he sighed, his voice laced with a hint of frustration, "call it what you want. But the offer stands. Reach the cabin first, and you get a little… freedom. More walks, less tasks, whatever. Disobey the rules, and well…" he trailed off, letting the unspoken threat get to her.

"And if you catch me before I make it?" she asked.

"There'll be no rewards for you. And as for me, well..." he moved his head slightly to sides in a playful manner. "Let's say I'll get to decide what to do with your free time for one day."

She glanced away, thinking. The bait was tempting, even if it was just that, a bait.

He waited for her answer. She'd showed him how competitive she could be, so there was a good chance that she wouldn't decline his offer.

"So..." he finally said. "are you in?"

[emeryya]

And the ick just keeps on comin'.

Spoilers for 16x9:

Are Penelope & Tyler Green supposed to be this epic love story now? Like, does she actually love him? Was the point of the flashback to her 'clunky' (?) dinner with a clearly-nervous-and-obviously-not-uninterested-Luke with the 'I hope we find our people' schtick to narratively frame a victim's brother as her (barf) soulmate?

AND THAT TOO. Emily & Luke are all over the 'material witness' angle but no one has gone into the unethical grossness that is an agent-slash-grief-counselor being involved with a victim's brother. Luke's freakout was great (on his end) and terrible (on hers). She's desperately trying to make him her Friend and Nothing More™️ and he's upset for HER sake, as well as the entire team's. I love you, Luke. You deserve better.

I did laugh at I was expecting David Rossi, the legend. But what I got was David Rossi, the AARP member.

I think I mentioned this way back in November, but Zach Gilford looks eerily similar to a guy I have my eye on, and his similar sense of humor is also throwing me. Fingers crossed I'm not about to be brutally murdered 🙃🙃

I'll (grudgingly) watch the finale next week, but mostly for the slim hope that Morgan's about to breeze in and knock some sense into Penelope 'I-Took-the-Nickname-Baby-Girl-Way-Too-Literally' Garcia. Because at this point somebody has to, and it's clear the team is largely going to overlook the whole thing the second she cries in front of them like a fortysomething toddler. Too bad, because I honestly want her to be fired from the BAU and have the others (particularly JJ) genuinely angry at her for a while.

Anyway, what will ACTUALLY happen is nothing. Voit's gon' die, and the issue of Tyler Green being a material witness will disappear, so they'll all be magically cool about it.

Also, I still think Will's gon' die.

Dunno about s17 yet. On the one hand, I don't think I can successfully hatewatch a show I once loved. On the other...well, I assume there's a word for people who slow down to watch the aftermath of car crashes or stand around to see a fire burn a building to the ground. Or watch Riverdale.

[gravelyhumerus]

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Thirteen

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away” Relationship: Jemily

Rating: Explicit  Summary:  Foxes, lattes, churches and resolutions.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

The first thing she noticed was the snow. It was falling down on her, hitting her skin with pinpricks of ice cold. She wandered through the bookshelves, searching for something. She wasn’t sure what for.

It didn’t normally snow inside the library, but that didn’t seem to matter to her. 

The snow crunched beneath her feet as she turned down another row of books, past the history section and stepping over a stack of books on the floor that was left there by some other student. To her left was a row of empty desks. It was just Emily and the books. 

But, Emily didn’t feel peaceful. Something inside of her told her that she couldn’t wait around, she needed to do something, find something. 

Emily trudged through the snow. Was she searching for a spot to sit and study? Was she searching for a book? When she found it, she would know.

She turned down a corridor, looking up and down the tall bookcases, her eyes skimming along the spines. They were old leather bound tomes, in rich oranges, blues and reds. They looked as if they hadn’t been read in decades. She searched for something she recognized, but nothing made sense to her as she couldn’t make out the titles or authors.

Out of frustration, she turned away to stomp back down the row, but something stopped her in her tracks. 

Emily blinked at the image in front of her. It was a fox standing in the middle of the fiction section, looking at her expectantly. It was as if he had climbed out of one of the books and materialized before her eyes. 

“Bonjour,” Emily said, kneeling down before the animal.

“Bonjour,” said the fox. 

Emily looked around, confused at the appearance of the animal. What was a fox doing in a library? When she looked back, he was gone. 

She looked around. 

“Je suis là,” came the voice, from between two books, announcing his presence on the adjacent shelf.

“Qui es-tu?” Emily asked, wondering who he was—or what he was—and what on earth he was doing here in her college’s library. 

“Je suis un renard,” said the fox. He was a fox. No shit.

She blinked at him, trying to figure out what she was remembering. The fox was familiar. She had seen him before… or read about him before. 

It was just like out of Le Petit Prince—the book that JJ had given her for her birthday. The book was a classic children’s novel, one that Emily had read many times. It was as if the character had simply stepped out of the book. 

The book was about a little boy who lived on an asteroid and was in love with a rose. He went on an adventure through space before landing on Earth. There, he befriended a fox. Emily could picture the simple watercolour illustration of the small boy prince speaking to the fox. She could almost feel the pages of the book between her fingers. She smiled as she thought of JJ’s excited face as Emily unwrapped the present a few weeks back. 

This fox, like in the book, was speaking to her. She racked her brain for what she was supposed to say. 

“What am I doing here?” Emily asked, this time in English. 

“Je ne puis pas jouer avec toi,” said the fox, which was not the answer to her question, since he had told her that he couldn’t play with her. “Je ne suis pas apprivoisé."

I am not tamed, he said. He has not yet been tamed. Emily remembered now what she must say.

“What does tamed mean?” she asked, in French. 

The fox jumped down from the bookshelf and walked through the library, his small paws leaving prints in the white snow. He was bright red against the ground and easy to follow through the familiar stacks. Emily noticed that she wasn’t cold, despite the weather, even as her breath came out in puffs that lingered in the air. 

“It’s something that’s been too often neglected. It means ‘to create ties’... but you know this.”

Emily remembered this part, he was right. In the book, the boy doesn’t know what taming means, how to create ties with the wild animal. He does not yet know the meaning of friendship. 

The novel was filled with layers of metaphor. It spoke to childhood, love, loss and the power of the imagination. Emily’s copy sat next to her bed, and she had been looking through it before she fell asleep that night. 

The fox crept through the seemingly endless bookshelves, his tail swishing back and forth as he walked. Emily tried to keep up, but he seemed to weave through the library with a practised ease. 

The fox stopped. He hopped onto a desk and curled his tail in front of him. He cocked his head and looked at her expectantly. 

“Your person has run from you, correct?”

Emily stared at him. This part was not in the book. She nodded after a moment. 

“I ran from my boy at first, too.”

She remembered this part: in the novel, the young boy wanted to befriend the fox. But he was impatient. The fox explained that it would take time, that the boy would have to return over multiple days to build his trust. The boy would begin sitting far from the fox, not even making eye contact. Over time, he could move closer and closer until they finally could play together. Their friendship could only be forged over time. 

“Were you scared?” Emily asked. 

“At first,” he replied. “But he was patient. And persistent.”

The fox swished his tail, then continued: “At times, my heart was not yet ready to greet him.”

“How did the little prince finally tame you?” 

He did not answer the question, as she already knew the answer, instead he said: “Words are the source of misunderstandings.”

“Was it all worth it? Even though he left you in the end?” Emily asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 

He nodded, then looked off into the distance, almost wistfully. 

“Here is my secret,” he said. “It’s a very simple secret: it is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

“On ne voit qu'avec le cœur," Emily repeated. She knew this line by heart. It was better in French. 

The fox disappeared into the books and Emily was left alone in the empty library. His words filled her mind.

Words are the source of misunderstandings. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly. 

Emily woke up to the sound of her alarm blaring in her ear. She was curled up on her bed, on her side. Her blankets had fallen onto the floor, and she was close to shivering in the chill air. She slammed her hand onto her phone and fumbled until she turned off her alarm. 

It was a dream. A vivid dream. She didn’t normally get those. 

She stretched, her neck sore after sleeping at a weird angle. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the convoluted dream that was still clear in her mind. Somehow, even after all she had done to distract herself, JJ still was a key figure in her unconscious brain. 

Emily needed to move on from that, focus on school. She couldn’t dwell on what she couldn’t control. She was an expert at pretending everything was okay; she had held herself together through worse.

She stared out the window. Instead of the white snow that had been so crisp and bright in her dream, outside was grey and dreary. She couldn’t see any hint of precipitation, frozen or otherwise, just dead grass and wet asphalt. The trees were bare as the leaves had fallen and been raked up last month, and there was salt on the roads in anticipation of the freezing temperatures.

Emily methodically dressed, donning a pair of jeans and a dark green button up shirt, pulling a sweater on top to combat the chill. She then played some music on her laptop. She focused on the lyrics, allowing her mind to go blank. 

She sat in front of the mirror on her desk, carefully applying her makeup. There was something about a swoop of liquid eyeliner that made everything feel okay. At least, more okay than they used to be. If she looked put together, maybe she would feel like it, too. 

Emily rarely remembered her dreams and she really wasn’t used to having to think too hard about her subconscious. All that was very Freudian, anyways. She wrote the dream off as her sleep-deprived brain mixed with reading before bed. 

She donned her warmest leather jacket, the one with sherpa lining on the collar and tugged a mustard yellow beanie onto her head. Then, she lifted her tote bag onto her shoulders, and put her headphones into her ears, turning the volume up high, hoping that she could drown it all out. 

During her lecture, Emily didn’t retain a single word her professor said. She mindlessly typed her notes, completely zoned out the entire time. She wondered if the words on her screen made any sense, but decided that it must be an issue for a future version of herself. This was probably a bad idea, as it was just about finals season and her exams were fast approaching. 

Her mind was elsewhere: thinking about the blonde who lived across the hall. At times, Emily thought about their kiss, or imagined holding her hand, or holding her body. Then, as her daydreaming gave way to reality, she remembered the anxiety as JJ ignored her texts. She remembered JJ ending it one day, then coming back from a hookup mere days later.

Every day that week, as Emily walked down the hall, a part of her wanted to knock on JJ’s door, like she used to, just to say hi. Beyond everything else, Emily missed JJ. She missed laughing over dinner, studying French, or even lounging in one of their dorm rooms, doing nothing and talking for hours. She missed the way she smelled and her soft touch and her big blue eyes. She missed JJ’s kindness, how she would remember little details about Emily, and how she would knock her shoulder against Emily’s to get her attention. Emily missed her friend.

But the hurt was still there, and it overpowered her longing. The hallway reminded her of JJ’s words, her breaking it off, the tears in her eyes.

Emily hadn’t seen her since, with JJ doing an amazing job at avoiding her.  

As soon as her class was over, she walked off of campus, heading straight to her favourite cafe downtown. It was usually busy this time of day, but she hoped the crowd would keep her from wallowing and make her focus on her work. Campus was inextricably tied to JJ. The field reminded her of JJ’s soccer games, the library of their study dates, the cafeteria of their group dinners and even the quad made her think of the time she almost ran JJ over with her skateboard when she was distracted. 

Emily sat at the long sandy wood table and sipped her latte as she opened her laptop. 

Members of the Prentiss family were extremely talented at pretending things were normal, that everything was fine, and Emily was no exception. She had tucked all the hurt, all the confusion, into a neat little box in the back of her mind. Storing it away until she could deal with it. 

She typed away at one of her essays, only taking pauses to sip her coffee. She was busy finding sources and working on integrating quotes to develop her argument. She enjoyed the sound of her keyboard clacking, adding to the din of the cafe. 

Her phone was tucked neatly away in her pocket. While there was a noticeable silence in their group chat—the one with both Emily and JJ in it—Emily’s phone seemed to be constantly pinging with messages. Derek was checking in on her, Penelope seemed to be trying to distract her, even Hotch had sent her a message to make sure she was ok. If Reid had a cellphone, she knew he’d be doing the same. Sometimes she got messages from Penelope���s number that was signed by the younger boy. Somehow, the whole world seemed to have known exactly what had happened between her and JJ. 

The sun was setting faster and faster these days, and by five, it was creeping below the horizon. At this point, she had most of her essay drafted, so it felt like a good enough time to call it quits. Anyways, her back was starting to get sore from the minimalist chair and all she really wanted to do was curl up in her bed again. 

Emily packed up her bag, depositing her empty mug on the counter, nodding at the barista before leaving. 

She took the long way home, walking along the river and listening to her music, trying to clear her mind. She pulled her hood up against the cool air. 

She walked for five minutes before slowing as she came upon a church that she had passed before. Instead of continuing along her way back to her dorm, something made her pause. 

Lights lit up the facade: a red brick building that stretched up into the sky with a pointed bell tower in the centre. Columns graced the front, standing strong on either side of the large, wooden doorway. 

Emily stared at it. It was simultaneously familiar and foriegn. Emily had spent almost every Sunday in church, be it Sunday school or mass with her mother. No matter where they were in the world, there was always at least one church in the city that they could attend. 

In Rome, their visits had only gotten more frequent, as after school, she and Matthew would wander the Renaissance churches around the city, admiring the architecture and discussing theology and morality and free will. 

Something came over her in that moment, and she found herself wandering up the steps, trying the door to see if it was unlocked. The door swung open easily, and for a moment Emily thought about walking in. She thought about kneeling before the cross and going through the familiar motions of prayer. 

She thought about asking God about JJ, about what was going on, praying for guidance on what to do. She could picture the way the light would dance through the stained glass window, she could feel wooden pew under her knees, she could almost mouth the words of her prayer. 

She thought of St. Georgia, her confirmation saint. She thought of her life of solitude, and how that almost sounded nice. Young Emily had thought the same thing. 

She thought about the mass that she sat in her pew, with tears in her eyes, as the priest talked about how being gay was a sin. She thought about how her mother repeated those words when she came out at sixteen.

She let the door close without entering, before walking away, longing for the feeling of the wind on her face instead of the dusty smell of incense. 

It had been years since she had set foot in church. The last time had been in Rome, the day she walked in with Matthew, before… well there was no before. It just was. Her pregnancy had triggered something in both of them, questions about the church that could not be prayed away. 

Emily clenched her fists, her short nails digging into her palms. She remembered the way Matthew had held her hand at the doctor’s, and held her as she fought back tears, and walked arm in arm into the church in defiance of the priest. 

After, their questions hadn’t subsided. Matthew read and read and read and the more he learned, the more the church transformed the place of safety and solace to something neither teen could stand behind.

Still, she missed her childhood certainty. She missed the feeling of a power greater than herself watching over her. She missed the singing—though she would never admit it—she had really enjoyed being in the choir. She missed how her mother would sit next to her, how it was often the longest time she got to spend with her busy mom. 

Emily shook her head, fighting back the memories, and turned up her music and continued her walk home. She dug around in her backpack for a lighter and her pack of cigarettes. Fumbling for a moment, she lit one and breathed in the dark smoke. 

The wind was biting and her leather jacket did little to keep the cold from creeping into her bones. As the sun was setting, Emily began to shiver. 

After dragging her walk out as long as she could, she finally went back to her dorm. Her hands were iced cold and she was shivering. She dropped her backpack on the floor before collapsing onto her bed. She checked her phone to find a missed call from Derek.

She called him back, knowing that he was likely to pick up from only down the hall.

“Hey,” she said. She felt suddenly tired, and wondered whether he would pick up on that.

“Hey Prentiss,” Derek said. “How’s it going?”

“I’m fine,” Emily lied. 

“No you’re not,” his voice came through the phone, and from the hallway, and he knocked once before opening her door.

Emily sat up, looking over to him in surprise. As if he owned the place, Derek walked over and sat down on her desk chair, letting it spin with the motion of his body. 

 “We’re ordering take out,” Derek said, “You can’t survive on coffee.”

“I can try,” Emily muttered. 

“Pizza?” Derek proposed.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Bullshit,” he said. “You’ve been avoiding the cafeteria.”

Emily crossed her arms. Derek was good at making her feel better, pushing her to take care of herself without forcing her to talk about her feelings. He was a private person, and so he never went too far, knowing that there were lines that neither of them crossed. 

“Thai?” he said with a sly look in his eye, he knew she couldn’t refuse. 

“Ok fine,” she gave up, “You know what I like.”

“That I do,” he said, dialling his phone and calling the local family-run Thai restaurant for delivery. 

Forty minutes later the two of them were eating curry and watching The X-Files on Emily’s laptop. They were sprawled out on the floor, both scooping rice into their mouths as they discussed the plot of the episode—aliens—and whether or not they actually believed in them. 

Emily didn’t realize how hungry she had been and struggled to remember the last full meal she had eaten.

After she had finished, she felt slightly more human, slightly less out of it. Still sad, but being sad on a full stomach, sitting next to her best friend and watching her favourite tv show was a bit more bearable. 

“I just don't get it,” Emily blurted, surprising herself as the words fell out of her mouth. 

“Yeah,” Derek replied, “What’s the point of probing? Don’t they have good enough technology that they could just scan someone and know what’s up?”

“I mean, yeah,” Emily said with a laugh, “But I was talking about JJ.”

She paused. 

“Did I push too hard?” Emily mused, “Was it my fault?”

Emily didn’t plan to vent to Derek. She hadn’t really told him the details yet, as she was still embarrassed after Thanksgiving weekend. Telling Derek’s entire family about how she had a girlfriend and then immediately getting dumped was not great for the ego. 

She learned early that it was safer keeping things to herself. 

Emily had done just about anything to fit in when she was younger. She was desperate to be normal. To be someone that wasn’t the weird queer girl that moved around a lot. She learned languages, learned cultures. She learned how to wear the right clothes, say the right thing. She tried so, so hard to be normal, and yet she never seemed to do it right. 

In her senior year, Emily finally gave up. She dyed her hair, did her make up in a way she knew enraged her mother, and dressed the exact opposite of what the other kids did. 

Since then, Emily was trying to focus on being herself. Derek was her first friend to really accept her for her, and over the past year and a half, she felt herself beginning to relax around him. In her second year at college, she was no longer the new kid. 

She had started to feel comfortable with him, and all of their new friends, so she was kicking herself for letting things with JJ blow up in her face. She should have known this was all too good to be true. 

“Em,” Derek said, “You can’t blame yourself. There’s definitely more going on with her that we don’t know.”

“Did Pen say something?” Emily said hopefully.

“I don’t know,” Derek said, rubbing the back of his neck, “She hasn’t said anything outright, ‘cause, y’know it’s all so complicated. We’re friends with both of you. But she made it seem like it wasn’t just you.”

Emily gulped at the guilt she felt when she thought of how all of this with JJ must be hurting her friends. They had all gotten so close this semester, and she hated the thought of ruining it for everyone. 

“It’s not you, it’s me,” Emily said with a sardonic laugh.

“Essentially,” he said. 

“Look Prentiss,” Derek said, “I think this is just a hiccup. You’ll figure it out. You two just need to talk and stop running from each other.”

“How do I get her to stop running from me?” Emily asked, her dream vivid in her mind once again. 

“Wait it out,” he said, “She’ll come back to you eventually. For now, eat some mango.”

He offered her the dessert, some mango and sticky rice that they had gotten to share. Emily took some with a grin.

She could wait. JJ was worth waiting for.

———

Emily was almost ready for bed when she heard a knock at her door. Derek had stayed for most of the evening, watching tv and talking for hours to keep her mind off of things. He had wandered out around nine, as he had an early practise the next morning.

She was just about to get undressed after brushing her teeth and washing her face. She stood in the centre of her room with her fly half undone as she heard the sound. She zipped her pants back up and walked to her door, unlocking it, expecting to see Derek returning for something that he had forgotten. Instead, she was face to face with Jennifer Jareau.

“Hi,” JJ said. “Can we talk?”

In JJ’s hands was a large tin filled with homemade chocolate chip cookies. They were piled high in the tin, perfectly baked with picturesque chocolate chips still warm from the oven. On JJ’s face was a nervous expression as she held out the gift for Emily to take.

Emily stood and stared at JJ, wondering if she was real or if she had finally snapped and was hallucinating.

A moment passed. JJ smiled nervously at her, big blue eyes boring into Emily’s own.

Emily took the cookies.  

[storiesofsvu]

Okay, im gonna preface this by saying that i normally post these directly after watching, so the chaos no context makes a little bit more sense but i was way too tired to deal with uploading after the ep last night... reading it back.... i DID enjoy the episode and did think it was a good one! props to director Aisha. i just think that *between* the eps this season, they keep flitting back and fourth between the style of how they're executing adding in new unsubs/connections to gold star/whatever and my brain can't follow it sometimes (esp at 2 in the morning when i'm getting tired lol).

Alright, considering I normally stay up til the crack of dawn something about making me stay up til 2am for these eps makes me exhausted. I blame the heat. Here we go!

I know that the format of the show is to keep us connected with individual ep unsubs, but none of us CARE. Either make us fully invested in the gold star/north star shit, OR make it the back seat story arc while these new unsubs are suddenly the bau’s focus like they did in the last season!!!

…unless that was morse code and is connected..

BUT STILL!

Make it make sense and be connected to the viewer before starting the scene

I don’t give a fuck about these guys…. Give me the people im waiting for

If you want me to care about eps that are stylized like cm s 1-15 then you have to make them ALL that way, you can’t pick and choose. Make me focus on gold star/elias/Jade from the last couple eps or nothing. You cant switch styles halfway through the season… no matter how intriguing that COULD be im automatically uninterested because its not the same style

Is tyler getting paid for this shit? Or is he just like.. hanging out and having fun?

LLOOLLL not Emily profiling tylers handwriting

PLEASE give us more and ALL dr tara lewis, she’s already been unappreciated as a character, but as a DOCTOR, please, she so smrt. Give us all if it

AS IF that many boxes contain EVERYTHING for four years!

Dad!rossi: I forbid you

Em: fuck you dad imma do it anyway

LOOOLL “ive never been forbidden before…” THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT SOMEONE SAYS BEFORE THEY DEFY ORDERS. I WOULD KNOW

Ok.. NOW this unsub storyline has caught my attention but I am confused lol. Seems very heartbreaking either way

God Emily is so fucking gorgeous

Jfc how smart is tyler?? Imma need to do a deep dive on this…

Man voit is a better fucking profiler than half the team, if he wasn’t…. ya know… a serial killer.. LOL

HHAHAHAHA omg tyler

Yess! Another VVERY NATURAL FUCK! I don’t care what anyone says, the more natural swears are the ones that I love the most!

Garcia’s so fucking hot…

Hotch “left the unit a few years ago” bruh that was at least a decade

LOL JILL IS ME

NOT FELICITY HUFFMAN OPENING WITH A FUCK

JFC. SHES SO HOT its giving elizabeth Mitchell

Looooolllll fucking rossi…

Jj and luke work super well together and I love it

Loooll Emily throwing tyler in last minute just like she planned and jill calling her on it RIGHT AWAY LOL

NOT THE GUILT TRIP LOL

“not even Jason was this manipulative”

WTF??? This some supernatural/insane shit. Is the wife even alive anymore?? Is he hallucinating that?

Aaand jj and luke have figured it out and this shit is fire

They got this girl locked up like joe from you

Jesus CHRIST this took a twist and I love it but AGAIN, I would love it so much more If it was the primary focus of the ep

Ooooo CALLED IT

God that’s heartbreaking

How THE FUCK DOES SICARIOUS STILL HAVE ACCES TO HIS NETWORK IN JAIL??

OMG Jill instantly hugging Penelope makes me SO WARM

Uuggghhh jill being dragged back into this is not fucking fair.. like… she left.. Jason DEFINTELY left.. that poor queen

JESUS that cut to rossi was straight out of a horror film where he WAS THE KILLER jfc

[bluepallilworld]

Ok let me ask you a question

I have these two original stories. One is in french but I'm ready to translate it in english. If I posted them here, would you want to read it ? If you're interested I can tag you when I post them. I only wrote a few chapters but hey if someone likes it, it'll prob' give me motivation to continue.

Here the resume of the two:

1. Why so blue?: This is the story of a doll who likes a bit too much colors. This is also the story of others like a wolf who swears he was just hungry, a fox who likes belly rubs, a dragon afraid of snails, a clumsy who just wants friends or even the story of a narrator who rambles a lot...

(funny story, lot of nonsense with a tiny tiny bit of serious stuff...)

2. L'observateur et la petite fille en rouge: Il ne sait pas où il est. Elle ne sait pas où aller. Il ne sait pas comment s'enfuir. Elle ne sait pas où s'enfuir.

Il veut comprendre. Elle veut se cacher.

Il pense ne rien savoir d'elle. Elle aimerait tellement le revoir.

Rouge comme son manteau, rouge comme ses joues, rouge comme le sang sur la neige. De par la "fenêtre du monde", il ne voit qu'elle. Il ne sait pas pourquoi, mais elle semble s'être fourrée dans de sacrés ennuis...

Peut-être en saura t'il plus en l'observant plus longtemps? Non pas qu'il ait le choix sur la question après tout...

Translation ! ↓

The watcher and the little girl in red: He doesn't know where he is. She doesn't know where to go. He doesn't know how to run away. She doesn't know where to run.

He wants to understand. She wants to hide.

He thinks he knows nothing about her. She would like so much to see him again.

Red as her coat, red as her cheeks, red as the blood on the snow. From the "window of the world", he sees only her. He doesn't know why, but she seems to have gotten herself into in a lot of trouble...

Maybe he'll know more by watching her longer? Not that he has any choice in the matter after all...

(incredibly angsty story, really self indulgent X), no romance)

[silent-scythe]

Roses & Mirrors - Chapter I

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: mild cursing, self hate, alcohol abuse

• ──────✧✦✧────── •

“Il la voit partout

Il l'attend debout”

༺༻

“Have you finished packing?” 

Nesta Archeron turned to glare at the male at her doorway, her spine rigid and her fists clenched. She wore a simple, thin nightgown, a grayish-beige one that went down to her knees.

“Pack?” she spat, as if the word was the most poisonous thing in the world, second only to his cursed name. 

“The-” he started.

“The gray, drab clothes you dislike?” she finished for him. “The alcohol your High Lady forbade me from drinking?”

Cassian lowered his head ever so slightly, looking towards the left. A few strands of wind-kissed hair fell forwards, framing his face. His eyes fluttered with barely restrained exasperation, and Nesta inwardly berated herself for taking note of his long eyelashes. 

“You know there’s more than that,” he said at last, looking up to meet her gaze. “And if you forget something, we won’t be able to come back to Velaris to get it.”

Nesta sneered derisively. As if she possessed anything of value, as if her slanted and damp apartment was actually worth anything. There was nothing here save for empty whiskey bottles, a crooked and unmade bed, an unused bathtub, and whatever other things were required to be in the most basic apartment possible. And in the air was the scent of a Fae male from last night that she was sure Cassian could smell, from the cross expression he had given when he arrived. Nesta was not sorry in the slightest.

She liked to think of herself as a shattered mirror, one whose surface casted a distorted and haunting reflection of her too-skinny bones, sunken cheeks, and bruised-looking eye bags. The pieces of this mirror lay scattered, each accompanied with a tale she was too lazy and too afraid to pick back up. What use would it be if she did indeed collect the shards? They would simply slip from her cold, trembling fingers, back onto the ground, perhaps splintering into more fragments, which was just more for her to pick up. Either way, the mirror was destroyed. Put it back together and you’d still see the cracks. 

Death and darkness did her bidding, yet she found herself to be nothing but glass; broken yet sharp, the metaphor disgustingly ironic. 

She took two steps forward, towards the Illyrian, and from his reaction- which was hidden, although she had a knack for assessing emotions that seemed ever present, even when she was only half sober- she surmised that he had not expected her to respond. 

“I won’t forget anything,” she replied, “because I have nothing to forget.”

Her lips curled back into a cruel smile as she raised her right hand, holding a small purse made of snakeskin. She gave it one shake, and the coins’ clinking noise could be heard. “Unless you count your High Lady’s charity.”

༺༻

Nesta heard the chirp of a bird and she looked up, eyes leaving the pages of her book. 

She watched as the bird flew higher and higher, until she could no longer see it, then turned her gaze to the ground. 

The sunset reflected onto the fresh snow outside Cassian’s cabin, illuminating it with blindingly white light, stark against the backdrop of jagged mountains that stood proudly, reaching towards the sky.

Illyria is beautiful, Nesta thought. At least, Illyrian nature is.

Nesta was no fool. She might’ve thought winter was pretty, but she knew precisely how harsh it was for the less-privileged Illyrians, especially unfortunate children and females. On their flight here, Cassian had explained just the basics, but Nesta felt as if she were a hellcat, bristling and snapping when he mentioned the backwards treatment of the females. 

They were supposed to land in Windhaven. The name rang a bell in her head, and she realized it was the camp led by Devlon, who she remembered as little more than a pathetic asshole. 

“Windhaven, like most other Illyrian camps, have banned wing clipping, but discrimination against females is still unfortunately existent,” he had said carefully, his tone soft, as if she were a young doe in the woods. There was true sorrow and anger on his face. She knew Cassian was proud to be Illyrian, proud of Illyrian culture, although clearly he didn’t condone this part in the slightest.  

Nesta remained silent, waiting for him to continue. 

“Wing clipping was outlawed by Rhys centuries ago, although in some rural camps, it’s still done.”

Nesta didn’t bother to ask for an explanation as to what wing clipping was; she could infer enough from the term itself. 

“The war has caused a lot of unrest. We’ve worked against the misogyny in the camps, but the discrimination is rooted deeply. It is not present in true Illyrian culture whatsoever, but the sexism has been here for so long that few accept any other ideology. Not only that, many families are angered at the way they are treated by the Night Court and the fact that so many died in the war.”

He seemed hesitant to go on, and Nesta narrowed her eyes, despite the fact that she wasn’t looking at his face. She waited expectantly for him to explain, although he seemed to refrain from giving any further explanation. 

“There is a lot of civil unrest in Illyria right now. Be careful,” was all he ended up saying.

The rest of their flight was spent in silence, Cassian focused on flying and Nesta ignoring the warmth and comfort she felt in his embrace. 

Now, as she watched the sun succumb to night’s darkness, sinking behind the mountains, she shivered. The house was insulated enough, but it was only the beginning of winter, and she was well aware that the winter nights of Illyria were not cozy in the slightest.

She hated to admit it, but she did miss Cassian’s warmth, even if she wanted nothing more than to strangle that bastard and run away from this place until she was as far from here as possible.

Nesta frowned at her conflicting emotions, closing her book shut with a snap. She had gone nearly twenty hours without alcohol, and she was not used to her feelings being so prominent, preferring the numb fuzziness of inebriation. 

Cassian being a living heater was not an option. Fire was not an option, and asking for anything was definitely not an option either. That left her with only one choice, which would be to suffer in silence. 

The cabin was different from her predictions. She had expected either a small and broken house, similar to her apartment, or something obnoxiously grand like the House of Wind. It was neither.

The cabin was made from some sort of sturdy wood, varying in shades of brown, some dark and some lighter. Nesta had begrudgingly come to the conclusion that she liked the cabin itself despite its owner and occupants. The house had many rooms, some of which Nesta had yet to explore. There was a dining room, kitchen, living room, and bathroom near the entrance. Near the back of the house was a hallway, with bedrooms, more bathrooms, a study, and some other rooms that she didn’t yet know the purpose of. The single-floored cabin was designed in such a way that all the bedrooms were in the middle of the house, surrounded by other rooms. 

Immediately after arriving in the cabin, Cassian had unpacked and went to go buy some supplies, which was abnormally vague, but Nesta didn’t question him further lest she presented herself as actually caring about that bastard. Nesta stayed in the study for nearly an hour; in it was a desk with a few papers, which she assumed were Cassian’s, and besides that, it was shelves upon shelves of books. There were way more than she expected, for she swore the cabin looked tiny from the outside. Most of the books were ancient tomes of war strategy, which Nesta regarded with a snort, but she did find a section of fiction. And after some time, she managed to find two books she was somewhat interested in.

She had headed straight to her bedroom. It was simple and undecorated, connected to a bathroom, and had a bed and two nightstands both with lamps. The closet and drawers remained empty. She left the little snakeskin pouch on the left nightstand, close to the door, and her books on the right side of the bed. She really didn’t like the novels all that much, but she had nothing to do in this cursed place. 

After absentmindedly recalling earlier events, she yawned and returned to the present for a few fleeting minutes, moving to put her book back onto the nightstand before withdrawing inside herself and staring at the wall until all the damned light in her room leached out of the window, the dying light turning the shadows into dancing ghosts.

Minutes- or maybe hours, for she did not care to keep track of time- later, she heard the creak of a door and a few thumps; most likely Cassian dropping things onto the kitchen counter or the floor.

“Nesta?” came his voice, drifting up the stairs. “Nesta, I’m home,” he called. 

She did not deign to offer him a reply. In fact, nothing about her posture remotely indicated that she heard anything. 

Footsteps sounded, and sooner than she liked, they drew closer until they stopped before her door. “Nesta, I know you’re in there,” he said softly, his voice a low rumble. “I know you don’t want to talk to me, and I know you’re frustrated with the situation.” 

Oh, frustrated, how interesting, she inwardly sneered. Frustrated, what a simple term to describe me. As if I chose to be in Illyria.

“I’m not going to make you talk to me all day, but- could you at least come out every day to eat dinner?”

Nesta continued to stare at the wall. “No.”

“Nesta-”

“I said no. Unless you would like to further intrude in my life and invalidate my decisions?”

She could hear Cassian’s sigh from behind the door. “Fine, we can compromise. Eat in the kitchen just for today so that we can talk.”

“Just for today,” Nesta responded, voice clipped. “Don’t expect any more.” 

His footsteps disappeared into silence, and when Nesta was sure he was gone, she let her guard down and once more let her mind suck her into an empty black void of self-deprecating thoughts, both too full and too vacant at the same time. 

Nesta missed the whiskey that burned as it fell down her throat. She did not turn on the lamps. Soon, the darkness of her bedroom became akin to the phantoms in her mind, and she let herself wander once more in the mist, fumbling for shards of a mirror, only to step on them and bleed. 

༺༻

Nesta didn’t eat much. It surprised her that Cassian could cook, but she didn’t let her revelation show. He had given her a plate of some Illyrian dish that she didn’t recognize, and a bowl of broth. Nesta would’ve found both delicious, had she not been prior starving herself to the point where anything more than the bare minimum was too much. Thus, she had drunk only half the broth and taken a few bites of the dish before setting down her fork. 

Cassian, to her relief, did not comment on how little she ate, although she did not miss his gaze edged with worry that flickered her way many times throughout. 

Their dinner was in silence, one that wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable but also far from comfortable. It was filled with tension, like a rope pulled taut, waiting to be cut. There was no conversation or banter between them, and Nesta was content to keep it that way.

Cassian cleared his throat. Nesta immediately stiffened and she felt her walls go back up; walls of stone around her heart and tall bushes of prickly roses around her mind. 

“May I ask a question?” he asked. 

Nesta’s previous relief was short-lived at his words, and she felt annoyance wash over her. She knew Cassian well enough to know he would only say that if his question was about a heavier subject, sensitive, or in any other way displeased Nesta. 

“Only if I can ask one in return,” she answered at last. A thought for a thought, a truth for a truth. 

Cassian raised an eyebrow, a small grin flashing across his face, likely surprised and pleased that she was actually engaging in any sort of conversation, but he made no taunt. 

“Okay. I’ll ask first,” he said, expression settling back into one of seriousness. Cassian swallowed, a short sigh escaping him. “Nesta. I want to ask you this for your own good. I know that this is private to you, but-” 

“Get on with it,” Nesta snapped. “I have no need for your monologue.” 

Cassian nodded. “Alright, then. Do you have any triggers? If so, what are they? I just want to make sure that I don’t accidentally trigger you, or make you uncomfortable…”

His voice trailed off in uncertainty, another thing the bastard rarely did. 

Nesta hated the inquiry, half wanting to rip his head off for even having the audacity to ask such a personal question. 

She didn’t want to answer it in the slightest. She did not want to offer that part of herself, a vulnerability, a weakness, a doorway through her stone walls. She knew Cassian had good intentions, but this was her gods-damned privacy. Cassian was nothing in her sad excuse of a life, and he was not entitled to know anything about her. 

On the other hand, Nesta herself had a burning question for Cassian, something that she had pondered over for a while, and now was the perfect time she could ask it. If she gave him an answer, he had to give one back. 

Nesta took a deep breath. “Fire, and water, especially baths,” she said, her tone a shade wobblier than she would have liked. “I cannot stand the crackling sound of fire, or anything where I am submerged, either partially or fully.”

She had left one out, but he didn’t know that. He didn’t need to. 

Cassian took a few seconds to process this, dipping his head once. “Okay. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, and I can get extra blankets-”

“You don’t need to,” she cut him off sharply. 

Cassian didn’t respond to that, knowing better than to push further. A heavy and unpleasant pause hovered between them for a moment before she continued.

“My turn. What is going on between you, Azriel, and Morrigan?”

Nesta was blunt and straightforward as always. She did not bother sounding pleasant. 

Cassian visibly flinched, shadows crawling over his eyes. “Nesta, I’m not sure that’s something I should say.” 

“Not sure?” Nesta countered. “Or do you just not want to? You promised a question for a question, or can you not hold yourself accountable for this promise either?”

Cassian’s jaw tightened and his hazel eyes hardened, clearly knowing exactly what Nesta had referenced. He crossed his arms, wings flaring for a second before settling, a telltale sign of his uneasiness. 

“Fine. I’m going to make this as brief as possible,” he said. “Kier wanted Mor to marry Eris Vanserra so that he could forge an alliance between the two courts. Mor didn’t want to marry Eris and asked me to take her virginity so that Eris would no longer want her. Azriel loves Mor and Mor has not openly shown any feelings towards Azriel, nor has she rejected him. I’m not going to say any more than that. This whole thing involves them both and it is not my place to spill secrets they might not want me to share.” 

Nesta’s livid eyes narrowed, and Cassian could’ve sworn a flame ignited in them, swirling as it arose from the ashes. “So what you’re saying is that the three of you, as centuries old Fae, have not been able to resolve an incident that happened five hundred years ago?”

Cassian let out a sigh. “No-”

“No? You and Morrigan are not in a romantic relationship, have no interest in each other, and yet you give her lingerie?” 

Cassian stiffened at that, nostrils flaring. “What? Nesta, how and why does this tie into Solstice?” 

Nesta didn’t bother answering, only pressing on, temper rising, the fire in her gaze burning brighter. “And you’re also okay with Morrigan using you?” 

Cassian got up from his chair, clearly agitated. “Nesta,” he snapped. “Mor did not use me. Don’t insult her like that. I-”

“Did not?” Nesta shot back, scoffing. “Do you even hear yourself? Morrigan could have fucked anybody yet she chose you because of your background and upbringing. And now she uses you as a barrier between her and Azriel. Can you not see the toxicity? This is ridiculously unbelievable.” Her eyes blazed with a raging, devastating intensity. 

“I told you this already, Nesta,” he said, his voice low and firm. Nesta reminded him of a snake, striking swift, and right where it hurt. “Don’t insult Mor like that, she is a close friend of mine, and-”

Nesta rolled her eyes at that. 

“-and look, I don’t want to argue, not over this.”

“You’re the one who started this damn argument.”

“Nesta, now that you said something in opposition again, you’re also still arguing with me.”

Both glared at each other fiercely, like fire on fire. Neither relented until Cassian finally tore his eyes away, fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose. 

Just as Cassian sank back onto his chair with a defeated huff, Nesta stood up, ever the epitome of elegance. 

“I’m done.”

Cassian opened his mouth. 

“Don’t talk to me.”

With that, Nesta turned around and left the table, steps measured, chin neither raised nor lowered. The silver flames in her eyes extinguished and replaced itself with ghosts.

• ──────✧✦✧────── •

First chapter of Roses & Mirrors is finally up! I’ll be trying to write a chapter and upload it every other weekend (so bi-weekly updates), however, depending on the time I have, it may take longer for me to update. 

I don’t particularly like editing stories, so this is very minimally edited. If you find any mistakes, typos, or inconsistencies, don’t hesitate to point them out! 

This first chapter was kind of boring, I had to set everything up so nothing that exciting has happened yet. Just so y’all know, there won’t really be much action (like battling and such) in this fanfiction, it’s more focused on Nesta and Cassian’s relationship. Because I only have 7 chapters planned, this will probably be a faster-paced book in regards to how their relationship progresses. 

I think Nesta’s emotions in this chapter are sort of all over the place, which is what I intended, although it comes off as messy. To me, Nesta isn’t a character that is always stuck in deep depression, I believe that occasionally she will be happier than other times. I also believe that alcohol helps numb her emotions and since she is forced to be sober, it also contributes to why she’s all over the place. 

As for why I have only seven chapters planned, it’s because I took seven lyrics out of the song Love Story by Indila. I think the song itself talks about a relationship different from Nessian, but I took the lyrics since I think it fits them. I then used the lyrics i took to plan out this fanfiction. The lyrics in this chapter are, “he sees her everywhere - standing, he is waiting for her.” (I am not French, please tell me if this translation is inaccurate!)

Wow this is a long author’s note. Thank you all for reading, comments are muchly appreciated! Taglist is below, if you’d like to be added or removed, feel free to @ me. 

- Scythe

• ──────✧✦✧────── •

Taglist:

@dead-on-the-inside666 @nessian-archeron @greerlunna @sjm-things @sannelovesreading @silvernesta