#the main evil guys right hand man

[cheerfullycatholic]

So uh, I watched The Truman Show

[kanerallels]

For @laughingphoenixleader, who requested Kanej in a superhero/villain au

(tw for vague mentions of drug deals and human trafficking, though there's nothing explicit)

The streets of Chicago were clogged with criminals. One couldn’t take a step without seeing a carjacking, a drug sale, a mugging. It was the perfect place for a criminal enterprise to begin and flourish.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone, then, when someone other than the corrupt law enforcement rose up to stop them.

The Wraith. No one had seen her face, but everyone knew the name. A figure in dark clothing, using knives and carrying out judgment against the traffickers and the dealers before disappearing into the shadows again. Those who used humans as a commodity seemed to be the biggest targets.

Which was lucky for the city’s latest big player.

“Kaz Brekker,” Inej murmured, studying the blurry image on the computer screen. He looked young, though how old she couldn’t tell with the quality of the photo. All that was really obvious was dark clothing and hair, a pale face, and the cane in his gloved hand. Both of which look…familiar.

“Why is he on our radar?” she asked Nina, who was slouched in the wheeled chair in front of the computer.

The young woman shrugged. “Possibly because he’s the main suspect in seventeen different robberies, but no one’s been able to prove it. Or because his right hand man shoots like no human being should be able to. There’s also the fact that he sprouted up out of nowhere overnight. Looks like he took control of Per Haskell’s gang, but he was there all along. We just didn’t see him until now.”

Inej frowned. “Why?”

Getting up from her chair, Nina headed towards the kitchenette in the corner of the basement room Inej used as her headquarters. “Probably because he didn’t want to be seen. And you’ve had other, bigger problems on your mind. Toaster waffle?”

Absently, Inej waved her off, mind spinning. Kaz Brekker. If his plan was to set himself up as the crime lord of the city, that could be a problem. Especially if he was as good as Nina said he was. “I might have to pay him a visit,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

Nina answered anyway as she popped two waffles into the toaster. “Just do me a favor and don’t get stabbed. I have class tonight, and stitching you up doesn’t actually count as homework.”

Despite her cavalier words, Inej could hear the concern hiding behind them, and she smiled. “I’ll be careful, Nina. I promise.”

The other woman didn’t look overly comforted, but nodded all the same.

Later that night, after Nina had cajoled her into eating and resting, then swept off to her night class at Ravka University, Inej slipped out of her civilian clothes and into her suit. It wasn’t quite Superman quality, but the clothing was comfortable and good for sneaking and climbing. She checked to make sure her knives and gear were all secure, and set off into the night.

Brekker seemed to have set up shop at the Crow Club downtown. Inej knew of the place, but Per Haskell—the former owner—had never caused enough trouble for her to have risked the trip, not yet. She’d had bigger prey to track.

Slipping in was a simple matter. One of the windows was unlocked, and Inej eased through into what looked like an office. A desk lined with papers and books stood in the middle, with a cot pushed up against one wall. Does Brekker live here?

A key clicked in the lock, and Inej ghosted into a dark corner, keeping her steps quiet and smooth. A second later, the door swung open, and Kaz Brekker stepped inside, limp obvious, cane swinging.

She caught the barest glimpse of pale skin and high cheekbones before his back was to her, standing at the desk. His movements precise, he flipped through a file, gloved fingers tapping against the outside.

The tapping paused, and his head lifted a little. Then he spoke, his voice rasping and rough.

“The Wraith, I presume.”

How did he know I was here? Inej brushed aside the surprise. There was no use in pretending now. She moved out of the shadows, and Brekker turned to face her.

Inej’s heart skipped a beat. Not for any silly, romantic reasons—though the young man facing her was handsome enough, in a severe way. He was all sharp angles and dark shades, his dark brown eyes taking her in like she was a problem to be solved.

No, the reason her heart skipped a beat was because she knew him.

She hadn’t known his name at the time. But they’d met once, years ago. Before Inej became the Wraith, before she’d escaped the life that had driven her to take this path.

The police had found her. An undercover cop, Detective Nazyalensky, had made contact, and promised her that if she informed on Heleen and her entire organization, she would go free. Inej had been going to meet her the day of the bust when Heleen had summoned her into her office.

She’d known. Inej was sure of it, and if she went into that office, she would be beaten, or sold, or worse. Fear had threatened to choke her, and she’d wavered. Should she run? But she wouldn’t have made it, not if Heleen wasn’t distracted.

And then he’d walked in. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen, but carried himself like a full grown man. But he didn’t look at the girls as he came in, and that struck Inej as curious. The other customers ogled freely.

Maybe he wasn’t a customer. Perhaps he was one of the information dealers who came to Heleen for what the girl’s customers knew. In which case…

She moved toward him quietly, her feet brushing the floor. He was standing at the door of Heleen’s office, facing away from her when she said, “I can help you.”

He’d been startled when he turned to face her, though it faded quickly. He’d lifted an eyebrow, looking a little curious when Heleen’s voice had rung out from the office.

“Enough hiding, little lynx! I said I wanted to see you, and I want to do it now.”

Inej had flinched, unable to prevent the visions flooding her mind. The boy facing her frowned, just a little. Then, he’d spoken. Not to her, but to Heleen.

“You have an appointment to keep with me, Heleen. Haskell won’t wait forever.”

Grumbling, Heleen had appeared at the office door and waved for the boy to follow her in. Before he moved away, the boy had looked at her. “Don’t let them see your tell,” he’d said, voice too quiet to Heleen to make out. “And don’t look back.”

He’d entered the office, and Inej knew. It was time to run.

And so she did. She made it, and Heleen was locked up 24 hours later. Inej was free, and it was thanks to the actions of a stranger.

He had, whether he knew it or not, been the reason she’d gotten away, the reason she’d been able to tell the police everything.

His eyes narrowed a little as he looked at her, and for a second Inej thought, He knows. But then—no. He couldn’t. Her face was covered, and it had been close to four years since her escape.

“And you’re Kaz Brekker,” she said, keeping her voice cool. Business like. “The newest boss on the block.”

“Here to stop me?” Brekker asked, an eyebrow going up. “Bring me to justice like the Black Heretic? The Lantsov family?”

“The police took the Lantsov family,” Inej said, and Brekker snorted.

“The police in this town couldn’t solve their way out of a cardboard box. You handed them the arrest.”

He’s smart. “How do you know that?”

“I make it my business to know.” Folding his hands over his cane, he said, “So, what have I done to merit your attention? I thought I’d kept a fairly low profile.”

“You haven’t done anything. Yet,” Inej said, letting her hand rest on the knives at her waist. Brekker’s gaze followed the movement for only a heartbeat before locking back onto her masked face.

“Ah. Threatening me into submission. Interesting method. Unfortunately for you, I have plans that can’t be put on hold. And you don’t kill anyone unless what they’ve done meets your criteria.”

Inej wouldn’t show her surprise. “You’ve done your research.”

“It’s good to know who I’m dealing with. And to know how you intend to be rid of me.” Continuing, he said, “If you were going to kill me, I’d be dead. Everyone you don’t kill gets handed over to the police, and there’s nothing on me for the police.” The thinnest sliver of a smile appeared. “So, Wraith, your threats are to no avail.”

Oh, he could be dangerous. “Then consider this an appeal to your better nature,” Inej told him.

He laughed, sharp and bitter. “I don’t have one.”

“You have common sense. Don’t give me a reason to come after you, and I won’t.” Inej met his gaze, hoping he would see the intent in her eyes.

He was still for a moment, then inclined his head. “Then perhaps I will see you again, Wraith. Or perhaps not. We’ll see what your code dictates.”

Without another word, he turned back to his desk. Inej hesitated for a fraction of a second, then slipped out the window. Activating the ascension cable she wore strapped to her wrist, she fired it and swung out across the city. She needed to find somewhere to think before her nightly patrols began.

She had a feeling then that she would meet Kaz Brekker again. And she truly didn’t know if she hoped for it or dreaded it.

[byfulcrums]

been rewatching rtte

toothless is called T multiple times, but the letter T doesn't exist in the alphabet of this world

i think hiccup was also called H???

hiccup went to the wedding of the man who tried to kill him and his family multiple times. no wonder he thought he could change drago's mind

snotlout is canonically a theater kid

"you're so small and cuddly" "please never say that again"

the twins are really smart, but they're also just stupid

hiccup straight up disappears when he's working on something

heather had a super noticeable crush on astrid

fishlegs got a love interest!! a plus size main character actually has a cool, badass love interest!

it was super hetnormative but it was cute

there was an island full of flying women who were implied to regularly commit cannibalism

hiccup taught all the riders how to fly with toothless, that's so sweet

everyone is a flat earther except for the twins

hiccup almost directly killed a lot of people

and killed a LOT more when destroying their ships

“scalding– cal..ding--" "toothle, plama bla!" was pretty much the funniest part of the entire series

dagur was bullied as a kid by a guy 8 years older than him who literally tattooed an imagine of him beating up little dagur in his arm??? What was that all about

actually we need to talk about how messed up everything about dagur is and about how the things that could've/did happen(ed) to him may be the reasons why he's Like That

just why was he imprisoned by the outcasts??? he didn't do anything to them directly

oof my brain is spiraling. "he loved you" "ig now we'll never know" what do you mean he didn't know if his dad loved him

there's a technically musical episode

tuffnut became hiccup's defense attorney and immediately got him the death sentence

hiccup regularly jumps off cliffs

he also jumped off a boat, with his arms tied and without toothless. just where did he think he was going

snotlout's annoying attitude is actually because spitelout pressures him too much and he feels like he has to be perfect for his dad :((

THE 'HICCUP'S EVIL MIRROR' VILLAIN THEME DONE RIGHT YESS!!!

viggo is the best httyd villain change my mind (you can't, swords at sundown, you may bring backup but i will win on my own)

skrill comeback skrill comeback SKRILL COMEBACK!!!!

"COMEEE TO DADDY"

what is a boar pit???

oh my god i had missed this series so much. it has no right to be this funny

this was my childhood. it has forever shaped the way i am

berserker heather the unhinged >>>

actually good disability rep! yay

hiccup complains about his peg leg pinching him

he straight up cannot walk without it and it is shown many times

"well, there are the benefits of a metal leg" after it got caught in a bear trap

funny moments, like snotlout trying to steal it to use it as a weapon

the jokes!! toothless laughing at the jokes!!! hiccup being so fucking done with the twins, who are always making the jokes!

there's an episode where everyone is so sleep deprived they actually start spiraling

astrid becomes a happy go lucky girl, hugs snotlout and tells him he's handsome

the fucking mood swings snotlout got were insane

the twins were straight up just hallucinating

"i sent them to wash their dragons, how could they mess that up?" cut to heather falling on her face with a bucket full of water in her hands

fishlegs becomes so paranoid, he's yelling at everyone all the time

"don't you know the trapper's trap can trap the trapper?? ...oh gods, i must be losing it, i'm quoting dagur"

YOOOO VALKA!!!! it's so nice to see her

hiccup tried to murder dagur to stop him from getting to toothless, which is scary bc it shows just how far he's willing to go for his bff, but also funny because hiccup. that was not going to work

oh the hiccstrid slowburn, how i have missed you

the twins's made up language

there was a beach episode turned murder mystery and a musical episode held at gun point

hiccup has a whole little speech that he periodically gives astrid to remind her that the twins serve a purpose

[yopossum]

The Laredo Javi gifs made me do this. I was powerless against them.

Main Masterlist

The Secret Place

Pairing: Javier Peña x best friend f!reader

Rating/Warnings: E - 18+ only! Post S3 Javi, Laredo, no age gap, friends to lovers to no contact to friends and lovers like no time ever passed, filthy fluffy smut, Chucho being the best and also a troublemaker, brief mentions of narcos and sex workers (Javi uses the word whores, paraphrasing the people who bother him about Colombia), drinking questionable whiskey, oral (f and a tiny bit of m receiving), boob in mouth action, PIV with a condom *and* on the pill good job guys, sex in an old treehouse probably not a great idea irl. Reader is described as having dark, prominent nipples and genitalia, grown out black pubic hair, heavy hanging breasts, thick dimpled thighs and a fleshy waist and belly. Her hair (on her head) is not described, nor is her skin tone (she does not blush or redden). Both Javi and reader speak Spanish, which is in italics.

———————————————————————————

“Javier Peña. Long time. Back for good?” You reached out for a friendly handshake.

“Nah, for evil.” He winked, holding your hand in his a little more firmly, a little bit longer than he would anybody else’s. You acknowledged it with a fond squeeze, undetectable to curious eyes.

“Sounds about right. Catching up with everybody?”

“Trying to avoid it.”

You laughed, hand on your hip. “No surprise there either. Well, I just came over to your table to ask the handsomest man at the wedding for a dance.” You smirked.

“I’m not sure that’s me, cariño,” Javi said, eyebrow quirked and jaw tensing skeptically.

“Never said it was, Javi. I was talking about Chucho.” It was your turn to wink.

He huffed out his nostrils and shook his head with a smile as you turned to his father with outstretched arms, yelling, “Take me for a spin, viejo! Let’s remind your boy where he got all those smooth moves.”

“He won’t know what hit him, mija,” Chucho laughed, standing to take your hands. “Watch my beer, Javier.”

“You got it, Pop.” He nodded at the older man, whose eyes were crinkled shut in laughter at the way you twirled onto the dance floor and beckoned to him. Javier nursed his own drink, dark eyes following you under heavy lids as you and Chucho spun around the floor.

After several songs, Chucho bowed out, making his way back to the table, and Javi lost track of you.

“You’ve still got it,” he murmured to his father around the lip of his beer bottle.

“Damn right!” he crowed. He took a long sip of his beer, looking out at the wedding reception, and sighed. “Listen, I know it’s been a long time, but—”

“—Pop, don’t.” Javier cut him off, shooting him a stern look.

Chucho raised his palm. “Let me finish, son. You know it was always her. I know it was always her. Hell, all of Laredo knows it was always her.” He stared intently at Javi’s face. “Folks weren’t as surprised as they acted when things went sideways with Lorraine. Doubt Lorraine was.”

“Yeah.” Javi looked at the table, ran his thumb along the label of the bottle, the condensation on the glass making the paper ball up and peel as he rubbed over it. “Everyone knew. I was an idiot, fucked it up.” He swallowed the dregs of his beer and stared through the empty brown glass, his own frowning distorted reflection wobbling back at him.

“You got that right,” Chucho chuckled, running a weathered hand along the brim of his white cowboy hat. “Was saying, mijo, it’s been years. Don’t you think you’ve punished yourself long enough?”

Javi scrubbed his hands down his face, careful not to muss his hair and ruin any of the photographs, incur the wrath of a coven of tías like he had at Danny’s wedding. “The shit I’ve done? A life sentence wouldn’t scratch the surface, Dad. Things change, life goes on. Looks like your dance partner left, anyway.”

“She sure did, pendejo!” Chucho laughed from deep in his belly. “Why the hell d’you think I’m talking to you about it now? Our girl fue al lugar secreto, she told me to tell you.”

Javi’s guts stuttered, and he tried to school his features into a convincingly stoic look. “The secret place, huh? Not sure I even remember where that was.” His eyes were pulled to the clock on the wall. 9:40.

“No manches, Javier. You know exactly where it is.” Javier avoided his gaze. Of course he knew exactly where it was.

Chucho turned to chat with a relative while Javi rolled his empty bottle on the tablecloth. Several songs played through, the party still boisterous. From across the dance floor, Javi locked eyes with Lorraine, who smiled brightly. She waved, and Javi groaned, feeling obligated to stand and cross to his ex would-have-been wife.

“Lorraine.”

“Javier. You look good.”

“Thanks. You too.”

“Oh gosh, you think so?” Lorraine tucked a lock of loose blonde hair behind her ear and flushed. “The kids make me feel so haggard sometimes. They sure keep me busy!”

Javier gave a half smile. “Sounds like it. I’m glad you, uh, got the life you wanted. I’m sorry, for… all of it.” He pursed his lips and glanced at the clock again. 9:57.

“Yeah, I know,” she nodded. “I forgave you a long time ago, Javi. Lord knows I wasn’t entirely innocent. And now I have Randy; I have the kids. It would’ve been wrong, the two of us.”

“Definitely,” Javi snorted, dimple deepening in his cheek. “Well, just… thought I’d say… something. You really do look good, Lorraine. I’m glad life’s treating you well.”

Lorraine smiled soft and a little bit sad. “Thank you. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Javi gave her a tilt of his chin in farewell as a blur of a child crashed into Lorraine’s legs before striding back to his table.

“Taking a piss, Pop,” he muttered to Chucho, who was still deep in conversation with whichever cousin. He clapped a hand to his father’s shoulder.

“Sure you are, son,” he replied, patting his son’s hand without looking back at him. “Dile que I owe her another dance. See you in the morning. I’m cooking breakfast.”

Javier rolled his eyes and bit back a reply, just squeezed gently and made his way out of the reception hall into the night. 10:10.

———

“Took you long enough, Peña.”

“Mierda. How the hell did we used to do this every day?” Javi grunted, swinging precariously on the old knotted rope as he clambered into the treehouse.

“For starters, we weren’t fucking old,” you laughed, taking a drag of your cigarette. You offered it to Javi as he pulled the last of his body through the hole in the floor and flipped the hatch shut, sending the hanging lantern swinging.

“Nah. Tryin’ the gum thing.” He flopped onto the wooden floorboards and tried to find a comfortable way to angle his wide frame in the small space. Their lugar secreto.

“¡No mames!”

“En serio.”

You spit on the floor and stubbed the cigarette into it. “Well shit. Good for you, Jav. Must’ve taken a lot of willpower — I don’t imagine you have any less need for vices now.” You grinned at him.

“Yeah, no fucking kidding,” he sighed. His fingers tapped on the ground, antsy.

“You’ve always been a stubborn asshole, though, so if anyone could do it, it’d be you,” you said with a cackle.

“Vete a la chingada,” Javier grumbled warmly.

“Quite the mouth you’ve got on you, Javi,” you tutted, turning to sit with your back against the opposite treehouse wall and stretching your legs out parallel to his.

“You know better than most how true that is,” he said, eyebrow quirking suggestively.

“Sucio,” you chided. “Glad to see some things haven’t changed.”

Javi smirked, sat silent. He let his head tip back against the wall, looked up at the stars through the open hole in the roof of the old treehouse. The wood there had rotted through years before the two of you found the place, when your necks and shoulders had ached from sunburns and monkey bars instead of tension and grief. Back then, before Laredo was haunted, you’d climbed up here and patched each other’s hurts with bandaids, hugs, shitty liquor, and eventually, after some years, soft touches, kisses, hot skin sticky and desperate against hot skin.

“You’re not gonna ask me about Colombia?” he said eventually, leveling his eyes back at you.

You shrugged. “Do you want to talk about Colombia?” you asked.

“No.”

“I figured as much. No, I’m not going to ask you about Colombia.” The treehouse was silent again.

“I came home, few years ago. Went back.” Javi said, eventually.

You hummed thoughtfully. “Why?”

He cracked his knuckles. “Got in some shit. DEA told me to leave. Then they asked me to come back. So I did.”

“You done now?” you asked simply.

“Yeah.”

“Feel like a hero?”

Javi gritted his teeth. “Feel like a piece of shit, usually.” He clenched his hands into fists, released them, repeated the action without looking up from the toes of his boots alongside your knees.

“Well, hey, at least you don’t look it,” you offered, and Javi couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re much better looking than you were in the 70s, even if your clothes haven’t changed.”

“Fuck you,” he snorted. “You didn’t seem to have any complaints back then.”

You scrunched your nose at him and stuck your tongue out. “I didn’t know any better back then. You’re not the only one who expanded their horizons, Peña.”

The smile slid from his face and he bit at his lip, a sneer creeping into his expression. “You too with the brothel shit, huh? Christ. All anybody fucking wants to talk about, what narcos I shot and what whores I fucked.”

“Did I say any of that, Javi? Jesus. Don’t try to pick a fight with me, it won’t work. I’m glad you were fucking around down there. I’m sure it was hell. Sounds like burying your traumas in warm pussy helped bring you back alive. I’m grateful for that.” You looked at him plainly, like it was the most obvious reaction in the world for you to have, like his confusion at your response was the strange thing.

“Besides,” you added, “I’m sure you treated them well. I know better than most, right?” You waggled your eyebrows at him and his frustration and surprise melted away, dripped out of his mind.

“So, I was memorable?”

“Stop fishing for compliments.” You whacked one of his boots with the back of your hand, and he tipped it back toward you, pushing at the hem of your skirt with his toe.

“You were memorable,” he said quietly.

When you glanced at him, moonlight brightening the piloncillo brown of his eyes, his expression was softer, less closed off. Echoes of a younger Javier, your playmate and closest friend and confidant and co-conspirator and lover, here in your secret space like he’d never left, never grown out of Laredo, never been hardened by the cruelties of the world.

Your Javi.

“So you definitely remember what we used to get up to in here, then?” you teased, reaching for a lidded crate shoved into the corner and pulling out an ancient bottle of whiskey.

Javi’s mustache twisted up at the corner. “I remember you were a handsy drunk,” he said, grabbing the bottle and twisting off the lid, taking a slow pull from the mouth of it and wincing. “God, this is awful.”

You laughed and took the bottle back from him, taking a sip of your own. “Beggars couldn’t be choosers! We didn’t have many options for sneaking liquor.” The whiskey warmth flowed through your body like bitter sunshine. “And handsy, hm? I don’t think I was usually the one to start anything.”

Javi pawed at the bottle, downing another gulp, and you watched his Adam’s apple slide down his taut, tanned throat. “Hm, maybe not,” he mused, rocking his jaw to the side and letting his eyes rake down your body. “But I always made sure you finished,” he grunted.

You grabbed the whiskey for a final slug and capped it, sliding it back against the wall before pressing yourself up to your knees. “Is that a habit you’re still holding onto, Peña?”

You leaned forward and placed your palms flat on the ground, crawling, partly seductively and partly pragmatically because you couldn’t stand upright in the treehouse, along the length of Javi’s legs. You knelt immediately next to him and reached out to smooth the red and blue plaid collar of his flannel, then cupped a hand to his cheek.

Instinctively, Javi turned into your touch, letting his eyes close for a second and giving a gentle kiss to the meat of your thumb. He looked back to you and let his face rest in the cradle of your palm.

“Still holding onto it. Held on to everything that had anything to do with you.” He worried at his plump lower lip with his teeth, then tongued at the plush cleft there.

You swung one leg over his lap and sat in a straddle across the tops of his thighs, denim of his jeans scratching against the bared skin under your dress.

“Should’ve held on to me, Jav.”

Javi placed his hands at the flare of your hips, splaying his wide thick fingers to knead at the flesh there, more plentiful and pliant than the last time he’d touched there. Where the world had made him rough, shattered, sharp, you’d been tumbled like sea glass. Smoother, softer, light shining right through you, spilling onto him.

“I should’ve.”

“I could’ve held tighter too.”

“I wouldn’t have let you.”

“You’re right.”

“That’s a first.”

You both snickered, and you let your body rest against Javi’s chest. He threaded his arms around your waist and pulled you tight to him, pressing the bridge of his nose into the shelf of your collarbone to inhale deeply.

“It was always you. You know that, right?” he breathed against your skin.

“I do. I knew then, I know now. Things happened how they happened. It’s been a long time.” You spoke the words into the dark waves of his hair, tickling at your mouth and chin.

Javi’s voice was smaller than it had been, more hesitant. “Do you think…” He paused for a beat. “Do you think it’s been too long? Or, not long enough?”

“I don’t know. Me vale, Javier. I don’t give a shit. ¿Sabes?” You ran a finger in a small circle around the top button of his shirt.

“I don’t know if I do,” he answered honestly. His grip on your hips tightened slightly, and he scooted you just an inch or two further up to the apex of his thighs.

“I think it’s a series of miracles that you’re here and I’m here and we can still manage to squeeze our ancient asses into this treehouse,” you said frankly. “I don’t need to figure anything else out right now. Tonight? It’s enough for me to know we’re both still here, that this is still here.” And when you said this, Javi knew you didn’t mean the treehouse, but the real lugar secreto, the secret place that lived inside you both, where neither of you had ever let go of the other.

“Lie back against the wall, cariño,” Javi ordered in a soft, even husk.

You climbed off his lap and crawled back to the place you’d been sitting before, legs out in front of you.

“Knees up,” he rasped. You obeyed, skirt of your dress slipping down your raised thighs to pool at your waist. “Let them fall open nice and easy for me, baby. Just like that,” he murmured, coming up onto all fours and rubbing a thumb on your ankle bone as you let your knees drop outward.

Javi failed to bite back the moan that fell from his mouth as you spread before him, only a slip of your black thong visible as the thin wet gusset nestled into your sex, dark lips and an Eden of black curls devouring the fabric. He, too, wished to be devoured.

He reached his hands up under your ass, hooking his fingers into the floss of your underwear and peeling them from your center, wiggling them down your legs and tossing them aside. Javi carefully lowered himself to his belly, flat across the floor, his body longer than he used to be so his knees were bent and his feet rested against the opposite wall. He looked up with wide, curious eyes, asking silently for permission.

“It was always you, Jav. Still is.” You carded your fingers through his thick hair and he growled.

Javi slid his hands along your thick thighs, trying to memorize the feel of every new dimple and stretch mark on the once-familiar canvas. When he reached the end of your legs, that divine join, he used the breadth of his shoulders to press your knees even further apart, sliding his forearms under your legs to grip around your hips.

Your folds pulled open languidly as your legs spread, stretching glossy strings across your entrance, the long dark sticky swollen petals of you blooming like something rare and tropical, heady and intoxicating. Javi nudged forward, nose brushing through the course hairs as he nuzzled its strong curve against you, dragging it in a lazy back and forth over your clit. Your pussy fluttered and you drew in a sharp breath through your nose.

“Looks like she remembers me too,” Javi chuckled darkly.

He pressed sloppy open-mouthed kisses to the creases of your thighs, over your puffy mound, running up and down along the seam of you, puffing hot wet air over your asshole to see it clench and quiver.

“She wants you to stop teasing,” you whined, but your complaint was cut short with a gasp when you felt a broad lick along your slit, Javi sliding the flat of his tongue through you and flicking at your clit with its pointed tip.

Your legs fought to fold closed on Javi’s head, but his arms kept them pinned open, on display for him, bisected and dripping. He ran his tongue over and around every fold, prodding and sucking and nibbling, stretching you gently with his teeth and slotting his lips with yours in an intimate, hungry kiss.

His tongue moved through you instinctually, patiently, reverently. A disciple, attending to the temple of his deity. Javier Peña did not believe in God. He believed in worship.

Javi slid one thick finger, then another, through your shining slick, swirled them at your clit before pressing them inside of you up to the knuckles. He relished the groan that clawed out of your throat, the clench of you around his digits, as he pumped them in and out, fingertips dancing on the spongy spot that made you writhe for him. He watched your face, lips parted and panting, brow glistening, both exactly as he’d remembered you and more perfect and beautiful than you’d ever been before this moment. And you’d always been perfect and beautiful.

He dropped his face again to suck the bead of your clit between his soft lips, alternating slurping around the hood with laves of his tongue as he continued to thrust and curl his hand inside you. The obscene thick wet sounds of your pleasure wove with mingled moans and soft gasps. Javi felt, sensed, the small escalations in your as they built on each other — the flickering tense of your leg muscles, the tightening of your stomach, your affrettando breathing. He increased his efforts, dribbling a stream of spit onto you, into you as he stuffed his fingers into your pulsing cunt over and over again.

“Oh, oh, Javi. Fuck, Javi. I’m…” Your legs began to shake, some overwhelming and impossible pressure building deep inside you. Javi didn’t slow, just lavished prayers into your pussy and ground his hips against the old creaking floorboards.

“I know, baby, I know,” he chanted over you, “I’m here, baby, it’s me, I’ve got you.”

Your fingers were thrust into his hair and twisted around the soft dark strands, and you tugged, pulling a guttural roar from Javier’s chest. “Dámelo, mi vida,” he snarled. You felt the irresistible urge to bear down on Javi’s hand, walls seizing up around his fingers until that delicious pressure burst. You arched and shrieked as a dizzying pulsing gush erupted from your cunt, cascading over the man between your thighs as he groaned, swallowed and suckled desperately as he rutted into the floor. The sensation continued to crash over you, waves smashing against a cliff without end. Your vision was flashing, teeth chattering violently as you keened and bucked at the overstimulation. Javi withdrew his fingers from your channel and slid them around your clit, using your release to slip rapid circles around the swollen pearl until the world around you exploded, a razor sharp orgasm ripping through you on top of a final wave of warmth that poured out from your wrenched body.

Javier looked up through long lashes, his pupils blown and lips swollen and red. He was dripping with you, drenched and devoted, as though he’d been dunked in a baptismal font.

You gestured faintly at him, not able to move your hands beyond a small wave up your body. Javi got the message, clambered up over you and let you throw your sagging arms around his neck so he could roll with you onto his back and drape you over him. You melted against his chest, still panting, and he ran his hand over your shoulders, down your spine, over the curve of your ass. His cock throbbed against the zipper of his jeans, straining painfully in the tight denim, but he tried his best to ignore it. To just hold on to you.

“I think I owe your informants a thank you card,” you wheezed finally, breath slowing closer to its normal pace. Javi snorted into your crown, kissed your forehead at your hairline.

“Quite the mouth, huh?” he teased softly, and you pinched at his waist through his shirt with a chuckle. “Mierda. That was…” Javi trailed off, running a hand through his sweat-curled hair.

“Yeah. It was,” you agreed, neither of you needing to finish the sentence. You reached up to touch his face, the deep furrows that creased his skin there smoother and shallower now. “So. Mi vida, huh Peña?” You smirked up at him.

Javi’s cheeks pinked and he bit at the inside of his mouth, bashful as if he hadn’t bathed in you minutes before. “Too much?”

“Nah, I liked it. Did you mean it?”

Javi paused before answering, looking down at you almost meekly. “If I did?”

You smiled against him. “Then I like it even more. Kind of how it’s always been here, right? How it’s always been for us.”

He smiled back with relief. “Yeah,” he huffed out. “Yeah, it has been. Could still be, maybe? It feels like… like we… fuck. It feels like this is the first time in a long time I’m where I belong. Here, with you.”

“Between my legs?” you said with a laugh playing at your eyes.

“Sí, yes, Christ, forever.” Javi groaned again, licked the taste of you from around his lips, nostrils flaring when his dick twitched insistently. You clocked it.

“Enjoyed yourself, guapo? Need some attention?” You rolled your hips slightly, pleased when Javi sucked in a breath through his teeth and shivered.

“Are you… can you…” he stuttered out, and you shushed him with a finger to his lips, which he kissed.

“Can I stand? No,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “But I want to stay right here in your lap and let you fuck me, Jav. Te quiero.”

Javi sat bolt upright, holding on to your body as he scooted to the wall and leaned back against it. “We’re gonna be so fucking sore tomorrow. Fucking in the treehouse.”

“We don’t have to,” you offered breezily, teasing. “If it’s too much for you in your old age.”

“Don’t you dare. Pinche chiflada. Yes, we fucking do,” Javi objected immediately. “Besides,” he jabbed with a pointed finger, “we’re the same age.”

You laughed at his urgency. “Ahí está. ‘Atta boy, Peña. You’re overdressed, in that case.” You moved to unbutton his flannel, revealing more of his smooth, freckled chest. “This is a nice shirt, by the way. You looked handsome as hell tonight.” You undid the last button and slid his shirt off his shoulders, running your hands over the firm rounds of his muscles.

“Not the handsomest, though?” he smiled, leaning forward to nip at your collarbone.

“Nope, sorry. That’s always gonna be your pops,” you said with a shrug.

“Pendeja,” Javi muttered. “Can we stop talking about my dad right now, please?” He fumbled at your dress clumsily. “This needs to go.” You guided his hands to the buttons that ran down the back and chuckled against his ear as his fingers flew over the closures and he yanked the thin cotton up over your head and discarding it to the side.

“Fuck, querida. These tits…” Javier lunged toward your chest, starved, pulling one brown nipple into his mouth and moaning around it while he palmed the weight of your other breast in his hand, lifting and squeezing. You tipped your head back as he swirled his hot tongue around and over, coaxing you to a peak, then pulled off with a slurping pop. “Gorgeous. Even better than I remember,” he groaned, wiping spit from the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

You wriggled your naked body back on Javi’s legs, eliciting a whine of protest before he realized your hands were deftly unfastening his belt. He reached down to assist and you swatted him away with a laugh. “Let me have my fun, huh?” you chided, slipping your finger through a belt loop and giving his jeans a firm tug before undoing the button at his waist. You smirked at the thatch of hair peeking out from the fly. “No chones? Hussy!”

Javi’s dimple deepened, his lip curling. “Always prepared, baby.”

You shook your head. “You’re still a menace, Peña. Pero, speaking of prepared, I’m on the pill, but…”

Javier cut you off. “Tranquila. Wallet.” You reached into his bulging front pocket and slid out the weathered leather, opening it and fishing through until you felt the telltale foil square.

“Thank god. I’m sure we have some stashed up here still but I don’t know I’d trust them to hold up,” you huffed with a smile, and sat back on your heels in front of him. With practiced ease, you tore open the packet, wiggling it at the man in front of you. “Now you can take your pants off.”

Javi didn’t break his gaze, just lifted his hips and slid his tight jeans down his thighs. You pulled his boots off for him, one at a time, then yanked his pants the rest of the way down his calves and over his feet, socks coming with them. You hurled them into the corner and let your eyes rest on Javier’s nude form. He brought one fist to his base and gave himself a few slow tugs, watching you watching him.

You crawled your way up over his body and relished the way his thick cock bobbed in anticipation, the way Javi’s stomach muscles quivered under your hungry stare. Glancing down at the blushing tip of him, you couldn’t resist when you saw the gleam of precome beading at his slit, and you dipped down to taste him, his distinct salt and musk making you dizzy with want. Javi’s hips bucked wildly at the unexpected touch of your tongue. You flicked your tongue over his frenulum, licked down his shaft to the seam of his balls, and back up along a delicious pulsing vein before taking his fat head into your mouth, giving a firm, but brief, suck.

Javi gasped, biting back a moan and sucking air in through his nose with a shiver. “Can’t… do… that…” he managed, his voice graveled and tight. He grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger to and pulled your head up level with his. “Need you too bad. Need to be inside you, cariño. Now.”

You pulled the condom from the foil and pinched the tip, then unrolled it down Javier’s throbbing length til the ring was snug around his base. His eyes didn’t leave your hands until you finished, and you reached up to his shoulders and eased yourself to straddle across his strong thighs, his latex-covered cock wedged between your stomachs. He was breathing heavily, sweat starting to pool at the dip of his throat. He brought both hands to the sides of your face, hooking his thumbs under your jaw, and looked into you with his big dark glassy eyes. They reminded you of the night sky that shone through that hole in the roof, the way if you let your vision unfocus it felt like you could see the deep blacks and browns reveal themselves to be layers and layers and layers of stars. You felt like you could see on forever, see the whole universe.

Javi brought your forehead to his, his nose pressed next to yours, and gently rolled his hips into you, the slight friction reawakening your still-sensitive clit and releasing a fresh stream of slick. You lifted up and brought your hips forward, bringing one hand from his shoulder to grasp him firmly and slide him through your folds before angling him at your entrance. Faces still flush together, breathing each other's air, you let yourself sink down onto him, both exhaling soft whimpers of pleasure as you stretched around his girth until you were fully seated in his lap, your channel squeezing around him greedily.

“Oh, fuck,” you whined. “Oh Jav, oh fuck. I missed this. I missed you.” You let your face drop to his neck, dangled yourself from his broad shoulders, and ground your hips in slow circles against his belly. Javi dropped his hands from your face and grabbed onto your sides, guiding your movements and digging his fingers into your skin, like he needed to be sure you were really there, needed to mash into your flesh and bone to know you weren’t an apparition, not some whiskey-conjured ghost in his empty apartment in Bogotá.

He let his head fall back, giving you space to lick and kiss at his neck while you rode him lazily. “You feel so good, baby. Christ,” he rumbled, words crawling out from deep in his throat. You pressed your open mouth to his collarbone, dragging your warm wet lips over the slice of it, sighed deeply. Javi could feel your legs shaking as they bracketed his own, fatigued from your earlier pleasure, and he slowed you to a stop before lifting you from his cock.

“Acuéstate,” he whispered, grabbing his forgotten flannel with one hand and fluttering it over the floor before turning you in his arms, nudging you onto all fours facing away from him and encouraging your cheek and forearms to rest on the brushed cotton.

“Mm,” you hummed sweetly, closing your eyes and wiggling your hips invitingly. Javi had to squeeze himself tight at the root, tried not to lose his mind when you presented your glistening pussy, swollen and stretched and desperate for him. “Need you, Javi.”

He sat up on his knees and pushed into your fluttering hole with a single thrust, crushing into the ring of your cervix and forcing a sob from your throat.

“¿Estás bien?” he panted, quaking with restraint as he held himself flush to your ass, letting you catch your breath.

“Oh fuck, yes. Cojeme duro, Javi,” you rasped beneath him.

He wasted no time. Javi withdrew quickly and slammed back into you, a deep wail spilling from your open mouth. He set a breathless pace, one hand clenched around your hip and the other spread possessively over the base of your spine. The brutal snap of his hips would’ve driven you forward across the floor if he hadn’t been holding you in place with such bruising force. His heavy balls swung and slapped against your bare skin with every thrust, and you could feel his sweat puddling at the sway of your lower back as it ran from his face and chest. The air was thick with the lewd squelching sounds of your bodies smashing together and the chorus of your breathy, rattling prayers and curses and cries.

Javi’s hips began to stutter, and he tensed his thighs and ass to try to control his thrusts. “Not gonna last. Need you to come, querida. Give me another, come on my fucking cock. Please, baby,” he rambled, an edge of desperation tinting his words. He slid a hand between your legs, bringing the rough pad of his finger to your clit to press and swirl frantically as he pounded into you. He could feel when you clenched around him, so strong he could hardly stay upright. When Javi hunched over you and pressed a hot, panting kiss between your shoulder blades, you broke apart with a hoarse scream. A burning climax crashed through you, your body going rigid with electricity, the overwhelming squeeze of your cunt ripping a howl from Javi as he came so hard his vision went white. He spurted with staggering jolts, thrusting weakly until your body went limp in his hold.

As the last of his seed dribbled out, Javier lowered you both gently to the floor, curling around your body as he pinched at the bottom of the condom and slipped his spent, softening cock from your clutch. He tied it off, set it aside, and laid back down to wrap around you again. You wriggled back into him and he tucked his arm into the plush fold of your waist, hand splayed over your panza and fingers tickling softly, no sounds but the breeze of your breaths and the thrum of your heartbeats in your ears. Eventually, you rolled over to face him, wincing as you turned.

“Won’t even have to wait until tomorrow to be sore,” you griped, rubbing at your neck. Javi reached out and covered your hand with his, dwarfing it, and massaged the knot that had started to form there with a firm thumb. You melted under his touch. “No regrets though,” you added with a reassuring snicker.

“Good,” he smirked, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “Probably should put some clothes on before I get a splinter in my dick, though.” You snorted and nodded, sitting up to let him extricate himself and re-dress. Javi pulled his jeans up, not bothering to button them, and shoved his arms back into his shirt, leaving it hanging open. You scooped up your dress and pulled it over your head, your underwear nowhere to be seen. Javi sat back down against the wall and stretched one long leg out in front of him, bending the other at the knee. “Come here,” he said, his words lazy and syrupy.

You walked on your knees to the vee of his legs and turned to sit between them, letting your back rest against Javi’s warm, wide chest. He hooked his chin over your shoulder and nuzzled at the base of your ear with the tip of his nose, looped his arms around your ribs and squeezed you tight to him.

“My dad said to tell you he owes you a dance,” he muttered, dragging his teeth lightly over your trapezius muscle, his mustache ticklish against your overstimulated body.

“Ha! I knew it,” you said with a clap.

“Knew what?” Javi sucked at the thin skin at the base of your throat, just enough to make a small bruise begin to blossom there.

“We had a bet about you.”

He stopped peppering your neck with affections to look at you curiously. “A bet? What kind of bet?”

You cackled. “When I told him to tell you to meet me here, Chucho said you’d come running after me right away. I said you’d try to play it cool, sulk for a while, then when you got too desperate you’d tell him you needed to take a leak and disappear. If he was right, I’d buy him a six-pack. If I was right, he had to take me dancing.”

“Shit,” Javier chuckled under his breath. “That’s… yeah, that’s pretty much exactly what I did,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re predictable, cabrón, what can I say?”

“I did talk, a little bit.”

“To Lorraine?”

“Damn,” he laughed. “How’d you know?”

You grinned and turned your face to rub your cheek against his skin, closing your eyes. “Like I said, predictable. Did you brawl?”

Javi hummed thoughtfully. “I apologized. So did she. It was… fine. It’s okay between us, I think.”

“That’s good,” you murmured, not moving from where you were snuggled into him.

He took a few deep breaths, and you waited patiently for him to say whatever it was he needed to work up to. He pressed his face to your shoulder again and kissed it softly. “I owe you an apology, too,” he exhaled against your skin.

You turned to look at him, to cup his face in your hand. “You don’t, Jav. You don’t need to apologize to me.”

His mouth began to move in protest. “I should’ve—“

“Basta.” You pressed a finger to his lips to still them, shaking it at him admonishingly when he tried to nip at it. “No should’ves, none of that. Everything brought us back here, right?”

Javier ticked his jaw, licked at his lip thoughtfully, before conceding with a half nod. “Nuestro lugar secreto survives,” he said with a soft smile.

“It does,” you agreed, running your thumb soothingly along the lines of his face, over the two creases permanently etched between his eyebrows. “You were gone, but you were still here, you know?”

“I thought about you. All the time.” His voice was quiet, somber.

“I know,” you grinned.

Javi huffed and snorted. “Oh, you already knew that, huh? How so?” he teased, pinching at the underside of your arm.

You squirmed away from his fingers, giggling. “You’re too predictable, ¿recuerdas?”

He sighed dramatically, quickly gave up his game in favor of hugging you close again. “I think you just knew me too well. Still do.”

“I know because I thought about you all the time, too,” you admitted, sitting back against him and tilting your head to look out the roof and up at the night. Javier did the same. “Eres mi vida también,” you said towards the sky.

“I fucked up tonight, though,” he rasped against the shell of your ear.

You stilled, raising an eyebrow in question. “¿De qué manera?”

Javi pressed a palm to your cheek and turned your face to his once more. “I didn’t kiss you yet.” You threaded your hands through the curls at the nape of his neck and pulled him to you, your mouths melding as easily as your bodies had. The kiss wasn’t heated or frantic; there were no clashing teeth and wanton cries. It was slow, soft, familiar. Two parts of a whole, slid back together where they were meant to be.

“So…” Javi breathed into your mouth between slips of tongues. “Pop is cooking a big breakfast. Want to come by the ranch?” He drew back enough for his eyes to focus on your face.

“Mm, a famous Chucho breakfast sounds great. What time should I come over?”

Javi grinned devilishly. “Right now.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving at his chest before kissing him deeply once more. “I don’t know what I was expecting,” you snarked. You both stood, joints creaking, both hunching over to avoid smacking into what remained of the ceiling. Your eyes scanned the treehouse for your missing thong while Javier pulled on his socks and boots, then fastened his clothes and tucked his wallet back in his front pocket.

“Missing something?”

You turned to answer him, seeing your underwear hanging from the tip of his index finger. He spun them around and smirked. “I’ll trade you for one of those cigarettes.”

“Keep ‘em,” you said with a wink. “We quit. We’re gonna try the gum thing.”

Javier beamed at you, sliding your panties into his back pocket. “Don’t have to tell me twice. You ready?” He lifted up the hatch.

“Mhm. But take that condom with you - there’s a trash can by the fence.” When he’d grabbed it, you flicked off the lantern, plunging the treehouse into darkness, moonlight just catching on the rough fibers of the rope below.

“Let me go down first,” Javi said, lowering himself through the hole, his boots finding a sturdy knot a few feet down, descending a short way before hopping to the dirt.

You grinned down at him from the treehouse. “You want to help me down? Tan caballeroso.” You dropped a pair of sandals to the ground and started to clamber down the rope barefoot.

“Of course, mi vida,” Javi said warmly, looking up at you with a wide, crooked smile. You’d made your way down a few knots when he added, “I’m also appreciating the view.” You shook your head and let go of the rope, jumping into Javi’s waiting arms and falling into another languid kiss before your feet found solid ground. When you bent down to grab your sandals from the dust, your skirt suddenly flew up, a hand cracking sharply over the bare flesh of your ass cheek, and you squealed, flying upright and glaring back over your shoulder.

“Shameless,” you tsked.

“Claro,” Javi shrugged, unapologetic. “But you love me.”

“Yeah,” you mused, slipping your sandals on and closing the short distance between your bodies to ruffle his hair. “I sure do. Always have.”

Javi leaned into your hand and purred, content for the first time in a very, very long time. “As long as I’ve loved you,” he said, quiet and firm. He nosed a kiss to your cheek and laced his fingers through yours. “Ready to go, mi vida?”

“Been ready for a lifetime, Peña. Take me home.” You walked hand-in-hand down the winding dirt road that led to the ranch, your path together lit, as it always had been, by a sky full of stars.

—————————————————————————

Some random taggies:

@timelordfreya @mothandpidgeon @hellfire-state-of-mind @maggiemayhemnj @beefrobeefcal @yourcoolauntie @jolapeno @whocaresstillthelouvre @schnarfer @jennaispunk @wordywarriorwrites @ameerawrites @survivingandenduring @freelancearsonist @artsy-girl-76 @goodwithcheese @javierpena-inatacvest @bluestar22x @carusolikey @beldroxramscal @tonysopranosrobe @toxicanonymity @for-a-longlongtime @luxurychristmaspudding @magpiepills @gasolinerainbowpuddles @oliveksmoked @sp00kymulderr @rebel-held

[villainoustrioau]

Villainous trio is back!!

This blog was created by us, @crees-a and @milkyrrr for our Villainous trio AU and we’re happy to present to you new designs✨

Here we will post arts and fics, answer your questions and develop our story👀

AU info

Villainous trio is a villain group of three Eclipses that live together in a bunker deep down under the pizzaplex

Jigsaw (Ruin)

Jigsaw is the leader of the trio, the evil mastermind who comes up with most of ideas and plans to make Sun and Moon’s life as miserable as possible. He may seem like a very nice and harmless guy at first but he’s much more dangerous then you would think. Not even his minions know what’s actually on his mind. He’s also a carrier of the RUIN virus and even though isn’t affected by it, it makes his body more fragile and easy to break. His metal crumbles slowly exposing his endoskeleton but it doesn’t seem to bother him that much

Eclipse

Eclipse is Jigsaw’s right-hand man and also his bodyguard. Not willingly of course. He was brought back to life and now has no choice but follow Jigsaw’s every step because the virus he was infected with makes him obedient to his master. This Eclipse is more aggressive and blood-thirsty than his previous versions due to the same virus. Every now and then he feels hunger which drives him insane and makes him seek for human flesh

Solar

Solar is an evil scientist whose passion is inventing new machines and blowing them up afterwards. He ran away to this dimension after loosing his only friend and killing his Moon. He was found by Jigsaw who promised him a good lab and plenty of time for his hobby. Solar agreed and now he’s the main inventor and mechanic of the trio who is always happy to work on new projects

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Hey Writers of ATSV, STOP letting White Men off the hook and expecting me to clap.

The fact that Miguel is repeated dehumanized and called an animal even prior to him snapping but George Stacy's scenes are written completely sympathetic towards him -

It doesn't sit right with me. Look at this:

They call Miguel an animal in the opening scenes.

At this point, he's not a threat to anyone but Vulture. In this scene, Miguel is doing exactly what he's supposed to do as Spider-man.

He gets called an animal.

Two pages later it's literal George Stacy holding a gun to his daughters face, and yet it's written completely, 100% sympathetic towards him AND ONLY HIM.

Which like..... Girl... Let me adjust my spectacles because I cannot be reading this right.

He's pointing a loaded gun at his daughter. Gwen is undoubtedly more scared than she's even been in her entire life.

She's confused and desperate, one of our main characters is going through a traumatic event.

The script though? It only cares about George and how he was 'betrayed by his little girl'

As if Gwen isn't her own person.

As if Gwen didn't just save dozens of lives. In a situation where the police could do nothing.

Had Gwen not been there, the police would not have been able to handle Vulture. The threat is subdued - yet he still persists.

It doesn't matter that she just saved multiple lives. It doesn't matter that she's not a threat - or that she's his literal daughter.

What matters is how hard this is for the adult white man with the lethal weapon in his hands.

The scene SHOULD be written from Gwen's point of view. SHE'S the victim.

But no, the white male cop is going through it due to his own emotional incompetency so let's focus on that while calling Miguel an evil animal.

In ATSV both George AND Peter - the two white men in the movie - let Gwen down. They either put her in danger or do nothing as they watch.

George points a gun at her. Peter watches Miguel as he physically assaults Gwen and puts her in the machine, exiling her into homelessness.

Then, he gets to go home to his wife and kids, not even mention to MJ that Gwen and Miles were both assaulted and are now missing. And instead he whines about how he's 'not good at this mentor stuff'.

In ATSV the White Male characters repeatedly fail the people around them with no consequences at all - even from a lot of the audience.

And yeah - Peter Parker is completely neglectful.

To the point it's not okay whatsoever.

I've seen MULTIPLE people say that 'Peter is justified in not helping Gwen during the Go-Home scene. Because Miguel was obviously violent and he's probably scared of him plus he was holding MayDay.'

Which is an excuse that ignores the fact that it's pitiful that GWEN a teenage girl facing homelessness - who is likely weaker than both Peter and Miguel - is more willing to stand up to Miguel than PETER PARKER.

It ignores the fact Miguel would NOT attack a fucking baby. He's a FATHER.

But it's easier to assume the Latino man is a raging, angry, baby killer than to admit the white man is committing neglect.

It baffles me that people will really defend Peter saying 'he was scared - he didn't know what Miguel would do-'

Neither did Gwen. But she still did it.

Because she's a GOOD GUY. Because it mattered to her. Because the people she cared about were getting hurt.

She stood up to Miguel in the face of literal danger and homelessness.

Peter had nothing to lose. He make a joke and shut up when he was told.

Once again: If Gwen and Hobie hadn't come for Peter, we have NO IDEA how long he would've stayed with Miguel. We are given NO INDICATION prior to Gwen's arrival that Peter is actively going to change sides. Or is even really considering it in that moment.

Even in the script Peter shows no remorse or worry for Gwen or Miles at all.

It's as if they don't cross his mind. As if he doesn't care he led Miguel directly to Miles because he forgot he had on a tracking watch. As if what he just witnessed didn't disturb him, as if he isn't worried that Gwen is literally homeless.

All he cares about is him, and his image as mentor.

Like sir, I do not give a DAMN. I might not even give a fuck, if you will.

Shut the fuck up about that mentorship shit 😭😭😭😭 You tryna mentor niggas that's MISSING.

He's like that deadbeat dad that brought you a bike a decade ago at 6 and he still bringing it up asking you why you don't call him 'dad'. Like just because you taught Miles to swing over a year ago doesn't mean you're his mentor mfer. Miles would've learned to swing anyway cause it's literally instinctual and every person bitten eventually learns it by themselves so really Peter wtf 😐

People will scream 'But there's nothing he could do!! Miguel is too scary!!'

One: Peter is one of if not the Spider-person with the most experience. If we assume he was bitten at 18 and he's say 45 now, that's still over 25 years of experience. If he was bitten in high school, that's even more experience.

He has biological powers Miguel doesn't, plus he has years of experience over Miguel - who canonically got his powers as an adult. If anyone in that room can beat Miguel - it's him.

If you're telling me that Peter B. Parker is not only scared of Miguel but he's scared to the point he will not even attempt to question him, even though three people younger than him will - Gwen, Hobie, and Miles - that's pitiful. That's a sad excuse for a Spider-man.

Also He's Spider-Man. The whole point of Spider-man is he fights even if he isn't sure he can win.

Two: At the very least, he can show that he's genuinely concerned for the kids he wants to mentor so bad. But he doesn't even do that. Even bringing them up or saying their names doesn't cross his mind.

But once again, the white male character emotionally neglecting those around him - especially the children who depend on him - and both he are George are either shown as innocent, unwilling to act, or the script is outright sympathetic towards them.

It's easy to call the Latino man an animal but writing a scene in which a white cop is rightfully portrayed as selfish is too hard.

It's easy to call the Latino man a monster but writing Peter Parker as a heroic figure is too hard.

The racism is not just towards Miguel. It's also in the blatant favoritism the white male characters are given.

Both George and Peter actively endanger those around them and at no point do they do something on their own accord that helps anybody but themselves.

Gwen has to go to her father - by force. Gwen has to go to Peter - using Hobie's hard work.

What we NOT GONNA DO is give the white man praise when it's literally the black guy who did all the work.

Fuck - Hobie mentored Gwen TEN TIMES MORE than Peter ever did Miles. Hobie put a roof over Gwen's head and came to get her when no other person would.

Writers, stop trying to make me sympathetic towards the white men who actively hurt the people around them when there's good mentors like Hobie and good parents like Rio and Jeff.

I ain't with the shits'. If anyone is an animal in this script, it's the man who pointed a gun at his daughter.

I guess assaulting and mentally scaring children is only okay if you do it with a firearm? Or if you make this face while doing it 🥺*

(*coupon not available for the melinated)

I changed my mind i don't forgive Peter or George. Miguel who has a whole ass arc of life and death and loss gets called an animal while the white cop with six minutes of screentime gets shown as father of the year while holding a loaded gun to a child girl you must be kidding me

Maybe Gwen would be in a better mood if we let her kick their asses idk 🤷🏾

[fanonical]

look people who've been around here for a while know exactly how i feel about the early doctor who serial edge of destruction but i rewatched it recently and i have feelings

so edge of destruction is the third ever serial of doctor who, right? it's an unearthly child, the daleks, then edge of destruction. and it's also kind of a bottle episode. edge of destruction is a two-parter, and is set entirely on the tardis featuring only the main cast

the plot is weird. everyone wakes up in the tardis with confusion and memory loss, not knowing what's going on. the tardis isn't safe, and strange things are happening. the ship seems to be malfunctioning, but there's nothing notably wrong with it. everyone's freaking out and accusing each other of sabotaging the tardis or hurting each other

now, as i said, this is early doctor who. companions barbara and ian had been kidnapped by the doctor and susan so they don't tell anyone that time travel is real, and at this point they don't trust the doctor and the doctor doesn't trust them. the doctor immediately starts accusing barbara and ian of sabotaging the ship to force him to take them home, which they angrily refute. they've spent the last two stories saving the doctor and susan from whatever's trying to kill them

barbara has a speech here which is brilliant and i can quote verbatim. 'do you realise, you stupid old man, that you'd have died in the cave of skulls if ian hadn't made fire for you? and what about what we went through against the daleks? not just for us, but for you and susan too. and all because you tricked us into going down to the city. accuse us? you ought to go down on your hands and knees and thank us! but gratitude's the last thing you'll ever have, or any sort of common sense either'

and the doctor spends the whole two episodes either accusing ian and barbara of being evil or being wholly unhelpful. (he straight up drugs everyone with a sedative at one point!) yeah, turns out the tardis is trying to tell them what's wrong via cryptic clues, and barbara's putting the pieces together. and the doctor still doesn't listen to her! she's so close to figuring it out and saving them all - they're all gonna die in about ten minutes and the doctor's basically given up, but barbara's trying to solve the problem

and in the end, they have the eureka moment and get out of trouble, but barbara's still understandably pissed. that is, until the doctor takes the time to apologise to her and tell her that yeah, she was right and he's sorry he didn't listen to her and he's going to do better to respect her opinions in future. they go into the next serial as friends, a first for the series to that point

so why do i love this weird little two-parter so much? because it is the moral centre of modern doctor who. this is the start of the characterisation of the doctor that we know and love. before this, the doctor is ruthless! he tries to kill a guy with a rock! he sabotages the tardis to satisfy his curiosity and lands everyone in danger from the daleks! he drugs them just because he doesn't trust them! he thinks he's smarter, better, and more important than the people he travels with

but then barbara stands up to him. she tells him that, no, she and ian are important too. and no, they're worth listening to. and yes, they can help and are worth something. and that's important, because barbara and ian are way more compassionate than the doctor is at this point. they want to help people they come across even if it means putting their own lives in danger.

sound familiar? yeah, the doctor's whole thing of helping everyone they come across and compassion towards everyone starts here. this is one of the most enduring things about the doctor and it would never have happened without barbara telling the doctor he's full of shit

and it's all because he listened to an ordinary woman

[artist-issues]

You know what’s great about Dr. Facilier?

He’s the perfect villain opposite both Tiana and Naveen.

He’s not exactly like Jafar or Ursula, who know they’re evil and delight in it as like, a lifestyle. He’s more like Scar. He’s introduced getting money on the street through cons and feeling satisfied…until Big Daddy LeBouf drives by with all his money and makes him feel insignificant.

You get the idea that something in life made him this way—there was a beginning to his villainy. You don’t get that sense from like, Clayton or Gaston.

So he’s a relatable character with flaws, to an extent.

But those flaws specifically play off of Tiana and Naveen’s characterizations.

Tiana has no real respect from her peers—she is in a position to be jealous of Lottie the same way Facilier is jealous of the Cotton King. But where Tiana simply works hard and refuses to let others make her bitter, Facilier has clearly taken shortcuts. Or…”the easy way.”

Then there’s Naveen.

Naveen has no thought beyond the present; he thinks they’re “on this earth to have some fun,” and frequently jumps without looking at the consequences. Leaps without looking! Doesn’t stop to find out if the girl he’s kissing is a real princess even though he knew his original invitation was to a costume party, forgets that he’s supposed to be getting married and plans on continuing his playboy lifestyle, wanders into a shadow-man’s shop. But eventually he learns to open his eyes to what’s important, and what will last, in Tiana. And he takes that seriously; if he marries her instead of Charlotte, he has to get three jobs.

Facilier, on the other hand? He not only does the opposite of Tiana and has taken shortcuts to get where he is—but he also suffers from Naveen’s flaw; he keeps making what are basically get-rich-quick schemes with his “friends on the other side.” When we meet him, he’s stressed and certainly on edge about failing—but that doesn’t stop him from asking for more and more debt from the demons, and he basically goes to his grave still making promises he can’t keep…like Naveen’s promise he couldn’t keep to pay Tiana for kissing him.

He’s got Tiana’s focus and Naveen’s charisma. He’s got Tiana’s lofty goals and Naveen’s dependence on others to do his dirty work.

He’s exactly like Tiana and Naveen put together, aged about twenty years, but with none of their good qualities. Perfect villain for those two main characters.

But he’s also the opposite of Mama Odie.

He entices innocents with what they want while she lights their way by explaining what they need.

He wants total control, while she’s satisfied with simply giving advice and sending people on their way.

He directly transforms his victims, while Mama Odie shows Tiana and Naveen how to work toward their transformation on their own. I mean, you guys noticed that she could have done it for them, right?

But she doesn’t, because she’s the symbol of that Disney Faith-Based morals: you act on what you know is true instead of taking the easy way to what you want. Facilier does the opposite: he promises to give you the easy way to what you want, and tries to tell you why you should accept his deals—but his reasons are all lies.

That’s how you write a villain, ladies and gentlemen.

[seokgyuu]

part of the @svthub 70's collab

Lee Seokmin is a very successful and admired Detective in the NYPD. Up until now he has had no trouble catching the bad guys. But when an especially horrific serial killer starts roaming the streets of New York City and he faces perplexity for the first time in his career - his superiors send a unit from the FBI trained to profile Serial Killers, which contains none other than you - Seokmin’s High School Sweetheart.

Pairing: Detective!Seokmin x FBI Agent!Reader

Genre: Criminal Minds/Detective AU, exes to enemies to lovers, Serial Killer AU, angst, Smut (MDNI!)

Warnings: Serial Killer theme, description of violence, description of dead bodies, cult themes, mentions of suicide, mentions of blood, mentions of abuse, mentions of suicide, character death (none of the main characters); smut warnings: fingering, penetrative sex, dirty talk, usage of the word “baby”, begging, reader has female anatomy, unprotected sex, creampie

Wordcount: 15.8k

a/n: I finally made it!! after months and months of writer's block I finally finished this fic, and I am actually really happy with it. Please mind the warnings, as this goes into darker themes. I also want to note, that I am no expert in terms of criminal language especially during the 70s in the us. So, if you spot anything that isn't all that accurate, i apologize! I also want to thank @multi-kpop-fanfics, @bitchlessdino & @strawberryya for reading through this and telling me i, in fact, do not suck at writing lmao. ily guys!!

taglist: @the-boy-meets-evil, @wooahaeproductions, @wongyuseokie

Lee Seokmin was a proud man. Proud of his grades in school and university. Proud of the man his parents had shaped him into. Proud of all the cases he had solved as a detective. With pride comes vulnerability, though. Especially in cases like these when he doesn’t have the right to be proud of himself. When he feels lost and helpless and his superiors look at him as if he had never solved a single case in his career. 

He knows. He knows he isn’t giving them or the people of New York City anything to go by. All he can do is say he needs more time. Time that no one has. 

“More people will die, Lee.” 

Seokmin hates Jeffrey Stolper. Hates him like fire burns. There is nothing he can do about it. Balling his fist under the table, Seokmin slowly raises his head. There is a certain emotion in Stolper’s eyes, an emotion Seokmin was happy to say he hadn’t seen many times before. His older colleague was gloating. While they were working together, their boss put Seokmin in charge because of the very obvious numbers differentiating them. Seokmin solved cases. Stolper left them cold. Seokmin couldn’t count the amount of times he had helped Jeffrey from drowning in his own misery, and this was the thanks he got. The older man was gloating because, for the first time in practically ever, Seokmin was lost. 

“Thanks, Stolper, couldn’t figure that one out myself,” he mumbled, letting his free hand roam over his sweaty face. Scoffing, the older male with the slowly graying hair leans back in his chair.

“Not the hot shot everyone says you are, aren’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up, this is not the time.” Seokmin’s voice is quiet but sharp, and Jeffrey laughs, his chest heaving as he seems to be vibrating with the horrendous sound of his arrogant laugh. It takes everything inside Seokmin not to get up from his chair and punch the hell out of the man. 

“Lee, Stolper.”

Both of them get up when their superior walks in, a big man with a receding hairline, a stubble on his strong face, and an old suit on his large frame. Frederic Bream isn’t much of an empath, but he does a good job. 

“Captain.” Seokmin and Stolper speak at the same time, watching as the captain nods and then waves his hand, telling them to sit back down. Once all of them are seated, he clears his throat.

“I know you hate to admit it, Lee, but we have no leads on this. No leads and a new victim.”

Seokmin’s heart falls down to his feet. Fuck. Another dead girl? Who will it be this time? He feels sweat starting to form at the top of his head. 

“Another one?” Stolper is serious and reaches for the case file Bream put on the table. Seokmin feels as if someone had dumped him in ice water, unable to move, shivering. He hates the fact that Bream is right - there are no leads. So far they haven’t gathered anything from what this monster does except that he always does it the same way. 

“Lauren White, 23. Student at Columbia,” Stolper reads, his face in a grimace, “she was found near Times Square, too. Fuck, Lee, I told you to put more patrols out!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Even if we put every man we have on the streets, this city is huge, Stolper. He could just start moving them somewhere else.”

Stolper doesn’t respond. Instead, he shoves the file over to Seokmin, who takes it with his jaw tensed.

“This is different from before, boys,” Bream clears his throat, “this is a high-profile murder. She is the daughter of the district judge.”

Seokmin looks up from the file. 

“Why is this different from the other four victims? Because she has an important dad, suddenly the tables turn?” 

Bream sighs, pulling a hand over his red face. 

“It’s not fair, I know that, Lee. But this changes everything. The judge is furious. Was a real fucking asshole about it too, even for someone who just lost his daughter. He wants the slasher to be caught yesterday.”

“Oh, and we don’t? Captain, please, this is bullshit!” Seokmin scoffs, throwing the file back on the table and glaring at his superior, who looks straight back at him.

“I know. We all know Seokmin. It’s a bad situation. But, some might say, it did bring something good.”

“And what’s that?” Stolper speaks up, crossing his arms. Bream clicks his tongue.

“We got sent help. From the FBI.”

Silence is what follows. Seokmin feels the ice inside his veins melt and instead get replaced by fire. He knows Stolper feels the same. Everyone here feels the same. The fucking feds.

“They can’t take this from us. We’ve been on this for months,” Seokmin hisses, and Bream nods again, licking his dry lips.

“They won’t take it from us, Lee. They are only here to help. In fact, they aren’t… our usual feds.”

“What does that mean?” Seokmin raises his brows, leaning forward, hands on top of the table.

“They are a completely new department. Focused on the behavior of criminals, analyzing them, trying to figure out what is wrong with them.”

“They are killing people. That’s what's wrong with them!” Stolper shouts, and Bream holds up his hand. 

“I understand that you’re upset. God knows I am, too. But there is nothing I can do. Go talk to them. They just arrived.”

The ice is back, and this time it hits Seokmin right in the face. They are here already? Waiting for them? Embarrassment flows through his veins, mixed with an emotion he has never felt before regarding his job: failure. His legs are shaking as he gets up, but he tries to play it off, his body tensing when Bream leads them to the door and opens it. 

The hallway to the main hall suddenly feels longer than it is. The walls are closing in on Seokmin, the gray concrete threatening to suffocate him as he walks over the horrendous blue tiles he never understood were placed in the first place. Nothing really seems to be matching in this precinct. Most especially Seokmin and the federal agents waiting for them downstairs. He doesn’t know how his legs lead him to the glass front that shows the inside of the busy station downstairs. Everything is the same gray color. Everything is the same horrible blue. The only difference is the people standing in the right corner of the room all gathered around the whiteboard Seokmin has so carefully put together these past few months. 

His hands are sweating. This isn’t fair. This is his case. They aren’t supposed to be here and take credit for what he has done so far. What exactly have you done, Lee Seokmin? The voice in his head reminds him, and he balls his hands into fists as Bream opens the door leading to the stairs that will finally bring him to the federal agents he knows he’ll hate already. 

The atmosphere in the room is tense. More tense than usual because everyone in it is unhappy with the current situation. As if it isn't hard enough that there is a killer on the loose, now there are FBI agents trying to take this away from the NYPD? This is his town, Seokmin’s town! No one knows it as well as him. He knows every corner, every store. Every good place to eat, every bar to avoid. The people know him; they trust him with this, and now he is just supposed to accept that he can’t continue what he started?

He doesn’t know how, but somehow, he does end up right behind all the agents and one of the other detectives, Jeanne, and doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he is bitter. His arms are crossed as he listens to Jeanne explaining what is on the board. She had been a part of this - just like all the other detectives had been whenever they could. It’s not like crime suddenly stopped in New York City just because a serial killer was roaming around. If anything, it just got worse. 

“That’s about all we’ve gathered. I know it’s not much, but it’s all we got.” Jeanne closes her explanation, and Seokmin watches the backs of the agent's head nodding. Bream then clears his throat, making the others aware that they have joined and once the team of strangers turns around, Seokmin thinks someone has yet again taken a bucket of ice and dumped it all over his head. Because why on earth are you here? 

You see him the second he sees you. It’s almost funny how your professionalism slowly slips out of your control, how seeing him makes memories flood your brain and almost drowns you. Why is he here? He, who had left you with a sour taste seven years prior to this moment? Why is he standing there in a well-fitted suit, looking the best he ever had in a precinct that shouldn’t have anything pretty inside it? 

“Detectives, may I introduce you to agents Son, Song, Kim, Seok and Y/L/N. They were sent here by the FBI to help us with the investigations.” Jeanne smiles, but Seokmin knows it’s not an honest smile. You see it, too. When you had gotten the memo to go to New York City and help with the slasher murders, you had already known the detectives wouldn’t be too happy to see you and your team. 

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m the team leader, Hyunwoo Son.” You hear your boss speak, and you want to look at him, but your eyes are back to being glued to Seokmin. Lee Seokmin. The one who had taken everything from you when you were nineteen. 

“You too. I’m Detective Stolper. This is Detective Lee.” Bream doesn’t sound sincere. For once, Seokmin is relieved his older colleague likes to speak over him. He doesn’t know if he would have been able to say a word. 

Catching a serial killer is one thing. Catching him with someone you share an uncomfortable history with, another. You are sitting as far from Seokmin as you possibly can. With as many people between you as there are. 

Hyunwoo is standing at the front with Matthew, explaining what your team has gathered as of now. The rest of the precinct is listening to the presentation, and you just know they are all biting their tongues. No one wants you here. All of them think you’re a fraud. While you understand where they are coming from, you also think it’s time for them to accept the newly found ways to analyze the behavior of killers like the case at hand: the Manhattan Slasher. The air is thick with sweat, and you are sure 70% of it is yours. 

“We want to make clear that the work your precinct and especially you, Detective Lee, have done so far is incredibly helpful. We don’t want to discredit what you’ve done and we also don’t want to make you feel as if you’re getting kicked off the case. We aren’t your usual federal agents, Detectives, we are here to be of support to you. You still go outside and look at the crime scenes. You still get to do your work. We are here to assist, to see things we have been trained to see, things you cannot see, not for lack of smarts but lack of training.”

You had always admired Hyunwoo. How he spoke so clearly and calmly, how he never failed to make a person feel seen. You can feel the atmosphere shift. Some of the police officers visibly relaxing in their seats. You still don’t dare to look at Seokmin.

“Now, to what we have gathered. Dr. Matthew Seok will lead you through it.”

Seokmin wonders how old Matthew Seok is. He can’t be any older than 23. How on earth is he already a part of one of the newest FBI departments? And gets to be in charge of the presentation? And how does he already have a god damn PhD?

“Hi everyone, I’m Dr. Matthew Seok. With the help of the information you’ve gathered, we were able to come up with a profile for our unsub.”

Seokmin feels a scoff in his throat but manages to hold it back. A profile? What is he talking about?

“We are positive the unsub is a white man in his early to late 30s. He most probably grew up with an abusive mother, which explains why he only picks women as his victims. He doesn’t care about their race or social standing, which tells us he doesn’t hate one specific type of woman, but all of them. The age range of his victims is from early to mid twenties, meaning his mother had him young and gave him up around that time.”

You should be used to it by now. The reaction from the precincts. But it bothers you just as much as it usually does. The way they look at each other, the way they are already fed up with you being here. Your eyes wander over to the rest of your team, who you know are just as fed up as you, but they are better at hiding their emotions. Yuqi just stands there with her gum in her mouth, her arms crossed, and hoping she’ll get to go on the field soon. While she is an excellent profiler, she did train to become a field agent. It was pure coincidence that Hyunwoo had overheard her talking about this one case even Matthew had been struggling with. Jungwoo is the quietest one of your team, especially in situations like this. He just stands there, hands folded in front of his frame, eyeing the situation calmly. The team leader himself stands next to Matt still, his arms crossed as well and his gaze wandering over the crowd of people. A traitorous part of you envies him for being able to look at Seokmin without any repercussions. 

“How the fuck do you know that?” A voice now erupts from the sea of people. You turn around to see the man who had walked in with Seokmin. Stolper, you think his name was. A frown appears on your face.

“It’s not our job to explain profiling to you,” you say coldly and the older man’s eyes find you - just like Seokmin’s do. You decide to ignore them and turn back to face Matthew.

“Uhm. Yes, well, we do ask you to look into certain… well, behaviors. People like our unsub aren’t exactly the most masculine. He is probably very thin and might even have a disability - perhaps a prosthetic leg or something that makes him feel inferior. Look into churches, veteran centers, see if you find anyone that could match the profile and-,”

“You mean to tell me that the killer could be a vet?” Bream now interrupts, his eyebrows raised. Seokmin presses his lips together. If his colleagues hadn’t been wary of your bunch before, they sure as hell are now. War Heroes? Their precious American patriots that fought for their country and won a war? How could you even dare to speak ill of them? 

“No. He most probably didn’t serve. He tells people he did and that that’s the reason he has said disability,” Matthew continues calmly and you smile slightly. It was a reach, your reach, but so far all your reaches had been a shot to the bullseye. 

Then there was a sudden thud somewhere behind you, followed by hurried footsteps and news none of you could pretend didn’t make you sick to your stomachs.

This feels wrong. It’s broad daylight, there are people everywhere. You stand next to Matthew, your hands buried in your pockets, and listen to the statement of the girl that had called the police. 

“She was just next to me and then.. and then suddenly she wasn’t. I- I was confused and looked around and then I saw this- this man and how he dragged her by the arm into his car. No one did anything, no one- no one helped her and I- I didn’t-,” her voice breaks off and another set of tears well up in her eyes. Seokmin nods understandingly.

“Miss, you have nothing to blame yourself for. It is a busy street and you and your friend were not glued by the hip, alright? We will do our best to find her and you shouldn’t worry about what you could have done differently. You called us right away and that's the best thing you could’ve done.”

Tears are rolling down her face, sobs are erupting from her tiny body, and you wonder if Seokmin would ask her out if it wasn’t for the circumstances. The second the thought hits your brain, you freeze. What the hell? Why on earth would your mind go there? In a situation like this? You shake your head to yourself and look around - the police have put tape around the area where Kelly has gotten abducted. Her friend, Jean is being questioned, along with the few other people who claim to have seen something. But other than the witnesses, there isn’t much to go on about. The car he had dragged Kelly into had been an old one and Jean couldn’t exactly tell what kind. She also hadn’t been able to make out the license plate. So, all in all, it was all more or less useless information. 

“Detective Lee, I will need you to go to the morgue with Dr. Seok and Y/N,” Hyunwoo is suddenly there, right next to Seokmin and you hear his voice and feel your stomach tighten. The professionalism has to stay in its place, you know that. There is no room for you to fall back into old patterns; that one silly thought you had earlier was enough. You can’t let it get any further. 

But the tension is there and it's suffocating. You’re in the backseat of Seokmin’s car and Matthew is talking the man’s ear off with information you have heard millions of times before. Thankfully your friend and colleague doesn’t feel what you feel, what Seokmin feels, and for a short second you ask yourself how he even became the youngest member of your team - only for you to remember you have never met a mind as brilliant as his, with the exception of human interaction. He isn’t too good at those. 

The morgue is just like any other you’ve been in. This one still feels different, though. Probably because of the young girls you know shouldn’t be dead laying on top of the examination tables with nothing but a thin blanket over their pale, lifeless bodies. You should be used to this by now, you think. But you doubt you ever will be. 

Matthew is standing next to one of the women, the fourth victim, Fernanda Franco, with this look on his face you’ve seen many times before. You’re standing opposite him, your arms crossed and your eyes shifting over the body, wondering how much pain these women had been in.

“He did a thorough job with the cut,” the coroner says now; he is standing on the side of the room, holding a file, “my guess is he is good with a knife, maybe working with animals.”

“Right,” Matthew mumbles, a frown on his face as he leans forward, eyeing the victim from top to bottom. It’s somewhat fascinating how good he is at spotting things others haven’t seen before. Perhaps it had made you jealous a while back, but fortunately, that is over. Instead of being jealous, you appreciate his work and his abilities. 

Seokmin, meanwhile, is also looking through files. Mostly from the crime scenes. How the women looked before the coroner took care of them. The fact that they are all still here, and not yet down under, no funeral held at this point, makes his stomach turn. He knows it’s wrong. But as long as they haven’t found the killer, as long as there might be more evidence on the bodies… Seokmin suppresses a sigh. He wants to give the families the chance to find closure so badly. If only by giving them the opportunity to put their daughters, sisters, grandchildren to rest. 

The pictures are still hard to look at. The blood everywhere. The stained clothes. The signs of clear torture. Nothing sexual, at least. But then again, perhaps the killer doesn’t need to sexually assault them to feel arousal. That’s what Matthew said earlier. Seokmin closes the file and pulls a hand through his hair, his hat safely stored on one of the cabinets. 

“Dr. Richmond,” Matthew’s voice makes Seokmin look over to where you are standing. 

“Dr. Seok?” Richmond walks over to Matthew who is standing bent over the body, his hand holding… the victim’s ear. Immediately, you and Seokmin step closer, both of your eyes glued to the women’s earlobe. Something inside your stomach turns, goosebumps suddenly all over your skin and you feel your breath getting stuck in your throat.

“Why wasn’t this in the files?” Matthew now continues to ask, his eyes not leaving what he found. Dr. Richmond feels his face go pale and sweat starts to form on the palms of his hands. Blood is rushing through his ears and there is nothing he can say, nothing he can try to come up with because the bitter truth is-

“He didn’t know it was there,” Seokmin finishes the thought and Richmond swallows hard, hands wiping away at his lab coat. The detective is right. 

“Do all of them have this?” You ask now, finally able to move away from Fernanda and move over to Jennifer Cartwright, who looks way too peaceful for what had happened to her. But then, you are happy she does. A part of you hopes she is feeling peace wherever she may be. When you reach for her earlobe, you already know it will be there. You take a deep breath. 

“I’m- I don’t understand. I never… nothing like this ever happened, I-,” Richmond’s voice echoes through the room, but none of you pay him mind. The small crosses, carved into the soft tissue of the women’s earlobes, take all of your attention. 

There were only a handful of people in the meeting room. Your team and Seokmin and his superior officer. It bothered you, kind of. More people had to know. 

“These crosses, they have been used before,” Matthew is pacing through the room and Hyunwoo is right there at the front of it, his arms crossed and his thumbnail between his teeth. He is thinking, listening.

“This was in the late fifties, early sixties. A cult, they all followed this one man, Jonathan Brixley. He claimed to have somewhat superpowers, and while most didn’t actually believe him, he was such a good preacher, they followed him anyways. They weren’t known for being violent up until they seemed to vanish. Many thought they might have done a suicide pact, but no bodies were ever found. But what we do know is that whenever one of their own died, they would carve a little cross into their earlobe. Almost unnoticeable. Almost like a birthmark - it’s not even that surprising Dr. Richmond didn’t catch on.”

“He didn’t catch on that all of the girls have the same strange birthmark?” Seokmin frowns. You roll your eyes.

“We are all aware that this isn’t the ideal situation, Detective, but perhaps being bitter about it doesn’t make it better.”

It’s the first time you and Seokmin have directly talked. Or more like, the first time you had openly acknowledged each other's presence.

“With all due respect, Agent, I don’t care. I want to be bitter, I am allowed to be bitter. If we had known this weeks ago, we might have cracked the case by now!”

“I highly doubt that, Detective. With all due respect,” Matthew chimes in and the (unpleasant) moment between Seokmin and you is over. 

“And why is that?” Seokmin’s superior officer asks. 

“Well, as I said, the cult vanished. Finding out where the last remaining members are is almost an impossible task. If there even are any - I doubt they’d wanna be found. For all we know, they could be hiding in plain sight and we wouldn’t know.”

The atmosphere gets even more uneasy. If that’s even possible at this point. Seokmin scoffs and looks away, his hands in fists. You should know how to de-escalate but your head comes up empty. It’s almost as if there is an invisible barrier that forbids you from actually trying to be reasonable with Seokmin. 

Just when Hyunwoo seems like he wants to say something, the door opens. One of the police officers, a woman with red hair you don’t know the name of, comes in.

“We have a situation,” she says and her eyes are full of something even you, a profiler, isn’t so sure what the meaning of is. It looks like fear, confusion, but also something like hope. Immediately, everyone gets up and follows her outside, where you spot the board with all the pictures of the victims on it… and a red thread connecting one of them to a new face.

“That’s the girl I talked to earlier.” Seokmin breathes and he looks over at Ruth, who nods. 

“Yes, Detective. Jean told us that she knows one of the girls - Rebecca Twain. They used to go to the same church, same goes for her friend, Kelly, that she called in as abducted.”

Your eyes widen at that and you look over at Matt, who has his hand over his mouth, his face in a frown. A church. That fits the idea of the cult. All of you who were in the room earlier know that. This is good, this is an actual clue, one that might even lead to something after all! 

“What church?” Bream now asks the police officer named Ruth. 

“She wasn’t too sure. Said they haven’t been there in ages. She knew Rebecca when they were children and Kelly came to join them a few years later. But they haven’t gone to the church in at least 12 years. She said she would call us with more information, but so far she hasn’t.”

It doesn’t take a genius to understand why she hasn’t called the station yet. You sink down, leaning against one of the desks now, a hand rubbing over your face. This was bad. Seriously bad. Whenever a cult was involved in anything, it could only be so much worse than anticipated. Of course, her parents wouldn’t let her talk about it. Who would ever want to talk about something like this? Being part of a cult, if now or in the past - with everything happening these past years. 

“We need to speak to her parents. Now.” Hyunwoo is already out the door, probably heading to his car and you look over at the rest of your team, who all seem more or less as lost as you. It turns out to be Seokmin who follows your team leader first and once you see his figure speed past you, you also begin to move. 

The ride is quiet. Hyunwoo’s hands are white around the steering wheel. You sit next to him in the front, Seokmin in the back. All of this feels surreal to you and you are sure it’s not that different for Seokmin. Serial Killers were a constant part of both of your lives, but you - you haven’t been for a good amount of years. It’s like a bad taste in your mouth, as if somehow the food you would always cook perfectly suddenly went bad, had a foul ingredient in it, was cooked for too long. You’re not sure what it is, but it doesn’t sit right with you. 

Seokmin, in the back seat, feels about the same as you. He is used to gruesome murders, to killers who don’t care about anything but themselves, but he isn’t used to having you around in all of this. Someone from his old life that he doesn’t associate with any of this. Never in a million years would he have predicted you becoming a federal agent. When you dated back in high school, you had always talked about wanting to go into politics, fighting for women’s rights, feminism, all that jazz. You had even applied to all the IVYs, wanting to study political science. So, how did you end up here? 

“We will have to be careful.” Hyunwoo now breaks the silence and makes Seokmin and you look at him.

“The parents won’t be too happy to share their story, I can imagine. No one likes to admit they were in a cult, not after Manson.” 

You nod and Seokmin scoffs, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. 

“One would think people wouldn’t even join any cults after Manson,” he says and Hyunwoo laughs bitterly, nodding slightly as he takes the next right at the intersection.

“Right. Sadly, it isn’t as easy as that.”

You look at Seokmin through the rearview mirror, watch how his jaw is tightened and how his arms are crossed, how his suit jacket is discarded next to him on the backseat. You wonder how long he has been part of this lifestyle, how long he’s been a cop. You hadn’t heard from him in years, not even when your friends offered to do some digging for you. It wasn’t because you weren’t interested. More so because you felt like you would get too invested. Looking away again, you straighten out your shoulders. This isn’t the time to think about the past, there are way more important things to focus your energy on. 

Five minutes later, Hyunwoo finally parks the car in front of the house of the Roger’s and the three of you get out to walk over to the front door where Hyunwoo rings the doorbell twice. It only takes about twenty seconds before the door opens and a slim woman with bright red hair and red lips stands in front of you, an apron around her waist and a mitten in her hand.

“Yes?” She looks at you with blinking eyes and the three of you take out your respective badges. The woman’s eyes widen. 

It is safe to say that getting information out of Jean’s parents is almost impossible. They are a middle class family with middle class friends, he works in real estate and she does her best to keep the house and children under control. They don’t want to talk about their past at the church, or more like, they try to deny it ever was a part of their lives. Talking to them comes close to talking to a wall, if the wall felt guilt and shame and was worried about its reputation. Only when you mention Jean for the third time, reassuring her parents that they aren’t in trouble and that no one was going to find out, that the only mission you had was to find the missing girl and find out who had killed the other innocent women - they budge. 

Mr. Rogers gets up, a certain shake in his knees, and walks over to one of the dark hardwood dressers standing on the right side of the spacious living room, where he opens a drawer and takes out what looks like a little notebook. You, Hyunwoo and Seokmin look at him attentively. 

“We haven’t talked to anyone from that church in years. Or well, we hadn’t. Up until a few weeks ago. You see, there used to be this… this farm. It was for retreats, we would go there every other month. Sing and pray, meet new people from other parts of the country,” he begins to explain as he walks back, reluctantly handing the notebook to you. Taking it with a small thank you, you look at the page he had opened it to and see a number and a name. 

“This is the name and telephone number of the couple that bought the farm years ago. We- we haven’t been going to the retreats since 1961, but a couple weeks ago an old acquaintance from the church called us. Kathryn Anderson, she was pretty close to Pastor Brix-,” he stops himself mid sentence, “to, uh, to Mr. Brixley. She wanted to know if we knew who bought the farm.” “And what did you tell her?” Seokmin asks now. 

“He told her no. That we were never interested in knowing,” Mrs. Rogers now answers the question for her husband, “you see, when we left the church it was mostly because of Jean. We figured after a while that perhaps this church wasn’t what we wanted for our daughter. So, we left. It wasn’t easy, but we did it. A couple months later, the whole thing fell apart anyway. Kathryn wasn’t around for that because she had been arrested about six months before we left the church. Got a good couple of years behind bars for attempted murder, the woman. When she got out, she couldn’t reach anyone - after all, the church didn’t exist anymore. Jonathan had perished, no one knows where he ended up and she was unsure what to do. So, she finally got a hold of us and wanted to know everything about the farm. But again, we told her we didn’t know who bought the farm. We just told her it was over and that she needed to find a different safety net.”

You look over at Hyunwoo, wondering if he thinks the same thing you do.

“But you obviously do know who owns the farm now.” He says calmly. The housewife swallows, then nods.

“We do. Paul actually sold the farm to them.”

How convenient, you think. Hyunwoo smiles and Seokmin clicks his tongue.

“I see. Well, thank you for the name and number, but now it would be great if you could also let us know the address.”

“I don’t understand,” you say, your arms crossed in front of your chest. Hyunwoo is sitting at his makeshift office desk, rubbing his temples.

“What exactly do you not understand, Y/N?” 

“Why we need to go to the farm. Or no, why he and I need to go.”

“Don’t be stupid, Y/N. Matthew confirmed it, the cult used this farm back in the day. There could be a lead there. And you and Detective Lee are going because you’re my best agent and he’s their best detective. I also feel like you two need some bonding time. Honestly, I’ve got no clue what your issue is with him, but you’ll need to get your act together. This is a serious case and I can’t have you dislike the main detective.”

Dislike. That’s one word to describe it. You bite the inside of your cheek. 

“So, you will drive to the farm with him and talk to the couple as well as check out the surroundings. See if you find anything that could be helpful to the case, got it?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Hyunwoo nods, satisfied. He then waves his hand, telling you to get out and do your job. You suppress a sigh and instead walk out and almost into your newly assigned partner - Seokmin. He looks about as happy about the situation as you feel, but neither of you says a word while you walk out of the precinct and to the car that would take you the 100 mile drive to Schnecksville, Pennsylvania. 

“You drive.” Seokmin’s voice rips you out of your thoughts and you thankfully react quick enough and catch the keys he throws at you. Rolling your eyes, you walk over to the other side and open the car, sitting down in the driver’s seat. The second your door is closed and Seokmin’s door is closed, his presence almost drowns you. 

“I was always better at reading maps than you,” he mumbles next to you and you feel your cheeks heat up and your stomach turn and you decide to ignore him and instead start the car. 

Seokmin presses his lips together, the map on his lap and his heartbeat loud and clear in his ears. Bream really thinks he did something. Putting Seokmin in a car with you for the next two hours. Apparently, your little bit of tension did not remain unnoticed and now this was his punishment. But what was he supposed to do? Tell Bream that you were his ex-girlfriend from high school who he had left seven years ago with nothing better than a pathetic letter goodbye. It hadn’t been his finest moment, but god, he was nineteen. Back then, he had enlisted in the army after high school, something he was bound to do anyways, and being cowardly as he was, he just hadn’t felt like telling you in person. Then, when he had been discharged, he had signed up for the academy and here he is now. He knows he should say something, apologize for the way he left you. But his pride and the shame don’t let his lips move, don’t let the words come out. And so he just looks at the map and waits to give you instructions. That’s what he can do. That’s how he can cope with being next to you. 

The drive is long and quiet and you turn on the radio at one point, listening to quiet music almost soothing. The highway is wide and the city is behind you and you wonder how long you’ll have to be in this car before your head starts to actually fume from all the thoughts running around. 

When you see the sign for Schnecksville, you almost sigh in relief. Seokmin tells you which exit you have to take and you follow his instructions, wondering how you actually got through this drive without any actual communication besides his directions. 

Schnecksville is filled with nothing and a gas station. You also pass a motel and a convenience store on your way to the farm that is a few miles away from the city center. Once you finally arrive, you can’t get out of the car quick enough, shoving the keys into your jacket when the car is locked. The farm is bigger than you had anticipated and Seokmin, who has discarded his jacket and hat on the backseat, looks just as surprised as you.

“Guess we have some ground to cover. Come on.” He takes the lead and you follow him, even though a part of you feels the need to run ahead. You don’t. You’re not a child. 

The woman who opens the door is in her early sixties with graying hair and a cat in her arms.

When you and Seokmin introduce yourselves and show your badges, she gasps slightly.

“Oh, you know, my sweet peach always runs out when I open the door, she is sick, can’t really find her way back when she gets out. Come on in, agent, detective.”

Her name is Mabelle Travis and her husband is Keith Travis, but he isn’t at home right now. He is getting some groceries for them. 

“How kind of your husband to help you with that,” you say as you sit down on the couch in the pastel colored living room. Mabelle nods, letting the cat back down.

“Oh, he is the one with the driver’s license, dear. I can only go grocery shopping if he comes with me. Or our son is in town.”

You nod and look over at Seokmin, who is looking at some of the family pictures on the dressers by the door. 

“Your son doesn’t live with you, ma’am?” He asks and Mabelle shakes her head as she sits down on one of the horrifically green armchairs. 

“No, Detective. He used to, you know, live with us. But that was before we bought the farm. My husband always dreamt of having a farm. When he retired, he thought it might just be the time.” She laughs and looks from Seokmin to you.

“But, what can I do for you?”

“Well, we were wondering if you’d be alright with us looking around the farm? We don’t know if you know, but the farm used to belong to a church before you bought it.”

“Ah, yes. We did know. I think that’s why we got it cheap. What exactly are you looking for, agent?”

“We’re not sure. But we think the church might have some connections to a case we are currently working on.”

Mabelle nods, her face in a frown. 

“Oh my. Well, you’re in luck then. We bought the farm years ago, but only recently moved in. So, most of the barns are still untouched. Only this house has been through some construction,” the cat jumps up on her lap and Mabelle smiles down at it, her hand carefully caressing its fur.

“That’s good news, Mrs. Travis. We’ll go take a look then.” Seokmin nods his head towards the back door and you smile at Mabelle before getting up and following Seokmin outside. There are three barns in total - one is large and two are on the smaller side, leaving the two of you with enough ground to work with for the next few hours. You exchange looks and decide to check out the smaller space first, a barn that is completely bare except for a wooden table at the far right that holds a few blueprints. Seokmin checks them out, his eyes scanning them for anything out of the ordinary. You, meanwhile, begin to knock at the wall, listening for hollow spaces, but also come back with nothing. The barn seems as normal as a barn could be. 

The second one is a little trickier. It’s not empty, instead it’s filled with boxes that, after checking as good as each and every one, all seem to be empty. You check your wrist for the time, wiping your forehead with the back of the other hand. You’ve really been at it for the last two hours. 

“I think we should move on to the last barn. I doubt the rest will hold anything of worth. Come on.” Seokmin is next to you all of a sudden and you flinch, looking away from your watch and at the man, who has sweat dripping down his temple. His eyes are set on your face and you wonder if you look just as exhausted as he does. Clearing your throat, you nod and turn away from him, walking out of the barn and to the next one. 

Seokmin sighs, following you outside and grabbing your arm once he catches up with you. 

“Y/N, I am just as delighted about doing this with you as you are with me, believe me. But perhaps we should at least try to do our job.” 

His words sting more than they should have and you are well aware of that. Funny to think that such wounds would have healed after seven years. You shake off his hand and turn around to face him.

“Oh, is that right, Seokmin? You’re just as delighted as I am?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “As far as I can remember, Detective, you left me with nothing more but a joke of a letter.”

Seokmin bites down on his tongue. You are right. Maybe it wasn’t right of him to compare the two of you.

“I know that. I know I hurt you. And I should have apologized for that years ago. I was young and-,”

“Let me guess? Stupid? That is in fact correct, Seokmin. But I don’t care about an apology, at least not anymore. I just want to get this over with, not have chit-chat with you about the past which neither of us can change anymore. So, will you go to the third barn with me so we can finally leave this stupid town?”

Seokmin watches you walk away, his heart heavier in his chest than before. He really should have reached out sooner. Pulling a hand through his hair, the detective suppresses another sigh and finally follows you to the third and last barn for you to check. 

The Travises invite you for dinner and Seokmin and you are both too polite to decline. Thankfully Mabelle is incredibly talkative, loves telling you all the tales about their son, Henry, and how they used to live in the city but then moved to a smaller town. She is excited about her husband’s birthday coming up soon and Henry coming over to visit, and basically her favorite topic to discuss is him. You try your best to resist the urge to look over at Seokmin next to you, to see if he is as amused about this as you are. He is not your ally, not your friend. You shouldn’t be looking for his gaze, shouldn’t be curious of his thoughts. 

“Does your son visit you often?” Seokmin now asks after taking a sip from his glass filled with tap water. 

“Not as much as we’d like.” Mrs. Travis sighs and pats her husband’s hand.

“He is busy with working in the city, not always available.” Mr. Travis now explains and Seokmin and you nod. That makes sense. You try to remember the last time you had time to visit your own parents. You couldn’t even really remember. 

“If there is something we want to check again, would it be alright if we came back?” Seokmin asks when you finally stand at the front door, saying your goodbyes. The Travises nod, allowing you to come back whenever. After waving at them you walk back to the car, Seokmin now getting into the driver’s seat. As you sit down on the passenger seat the atmosphere quickly becomes tense now that you’re alone again. The second your doors are closed, a familiar sound is heard.

“Oh, you’ve got to be joking.” 

Rain. It’s starting to rain. What starts with a few drops on the windshield turns into a full on piss of rain that has the both of you staring at the scene for a few seconds. When a second later you hear thunder so close it almost shakes the car, Seokmin reluctantly starts the engine.

There is no way in hell you can drive home in this weather. As much as the both of you hate it, you’ll have to stop somewhere and wait out the storm. Seokmin suggests the motel you had seen on your way here and you nod, knowing there wasn’t much else you could say or do. Having to stay somewhere with Seokmin, somewhere you couldn’t just flee from, seems like the number one worst scenario you could find yourself in. You look at him from the passenger seat, trying to my sly about it but of course he notices your eyes on his face.

“Believe me, I would rather not do this either, Y/N. But I’d rather be safe than drive on the highway in this weather.”

You don’t answer him. Mainly because you would have to tell him he is right and that’s most definitely not going to happen. 

“What do you mean by that?” Seokmin looks at the bored looking woman in her fifties. She sighs and shoves the one room key towards him again. 

“I mean, Sir, that there is only one room left. We are fully booked. Have you seen the rain?” 

It’s very obvious a rhetorical question but Seokmin is about to go on a rant to tell the woman that, of course, he has seen the rain but how on earth does this justify there only being one room in a god damn motel miles away from any big city? 

“We’ll take the room,” you quickly interject, handing the lady your credit card that she looks at with a straight face.

“Honey, you’re in the middle of nowhere. Do you really think we take those things?” You feel your cheeks heat up, retreating the card again.

“That’s 16.50$ for the night,” she continues and you hand her a twenty that she takes without a word, shoving the change over the wooden surface, “have a pleasant stay.” She shoves down the small plastic window and you and Seokmin exchange a quick look before making your way to the room you will now have to share. 

There is only one bed. You stare at it and so does Seokmin. Because - of course there is. How could you have not asked the woman at the counter? But then again even if you had… there wasn’t much you could have done about it. Maybe a saw, you think, just saw it in half. The two of you stay silent for a good minute, before Seokmin finally sighs, pulling a hand over his face. 

“Looks like we can’t do much about this. Just… it’s just one night, alright? We can do this.” 

You don’t really understand why he would say that. Why he would speak for you, when you both know it isn’t okay and you most definitely can’t do this. You take a deep breath, throwing your bag onto the very dirty looking armchair next to the door. 

“Whatever,” you respond, rolling your eyes as you make your way into the bathroom, if only to get away from Seokmin for a short while. His presence is stressing you out more than you thought it would. Perhaps that had been foolish of you - thinking this wouldn’t be the absolute worst thing to ever happen. But at the same time, it’s not like Hyunwoo had given you much of a choice. He had straight up told you to get your act together and yet… You sigh, the door closed next to you. The bathroom isn’t even half as bad as you had feared. It’s small and the shower could need a scrub (or three), but other than that it’s decent. The toilet looks clean and the mirror hanging over the sink shows you your exhausted face. Dark circles under your eyes that you touch with your cold finger tips. You remember how you looked back in High School. How much you smiled, how happy you were almost every single day. And all because of him. He, who promised you the world only to rip it away when you needed stability the most. It wasn’t fair. Him being here, him playing such a big role in something so important to you. Finding this killer that took lives like it was nothing. Seokmin is here with you and he sure as hell isn’t going anywhere else. The effect he has on you is annoying, to say the least. You don’t want to feel this way, feel insecure and small and like you need to prove yourself to him. He isn’t worth your energy, your thoughts. Not him as a person at least. Him as a Detective is a different story. Another deep breath followed by some water that you splash into your face, is what finally makes you step out again and face your ex-boyfriend that has taken a seat on the bed, the case file spread next to him. 

He is handsome. High cheekbones, perfectly shaped eyebrows. His hair is styled back, but slowly the front strands are falling into his face. His face is in a small frown as he looks at the documents, as he tries to make sense where you all fail to find any. Your heart betrays you by skipping a beat, by suddenly sending a wave of sadness over you. He never told you why he left. He just did. 

“Anything making more sense now?” You ask cautiously, walking over to him with slow steps. Seokmin looks up slightly before shaking his head. 

“Not really,” he mumbles, “it doesn’t make sense. None of this. Why is he curving the crosses into their ears? Why is he choosing these girls specifically?” You sit down on the other side of the bed, gnawing on your lower lip.

“Well, Matthew told you our theory. Abusive mother, hatred towards women.”

“But why- why would he just go after any woman if his mother was a certain type?” Seokmin looks up at you and you feel a sting in your chest. You shrug.

“You’re right to question this theory. It’s not perfect and it will take a few years until we can really say that we have a high percentage of accurate profiles. So far we’ve been good, very good. But not as good as we can be. This unsub is unique because he doesn’t have a type - it almost seems random. Like he goes out on the street and sees a girl and just takes her,” you lick over your lips, letting your eyes wander to the window, the storm on full display, “he is violent, but he also kills them quickly. No signs of sexual abuse. It’s odd and not like anything we’ve seen before.”

Seokmin listens to you speak and allows himself to actually listen. The whole profiling thing - it most certainly hasn’t been something he trusted so far. But now, hearing your words, seeing the look on your face - he almost feels ashamed of his earlier suspicion. 

“It’s just-,” he begins, his hand pulling through his hair, “it’s confusing. Why would he not go for people who look like his mother? Why is he not taking revenge on her over and over again?”

You feel your thoughts stumble over that sentence for a good thirty seconds. Seokmin is right - why wouldn’t he take revenge on his mother over and over again? Why would he kill women that look nothing like her? Without really noticing, you get up, your feet carrying you over to the window, staring at the rain outside, hoping it would give you the clue you so desperately need right now.

“You agree, don’t you? That it is odd!” Seokmin gets up too, only to turn around and look at the files again, his arms crossed, eyes scanning all the pictures and clues the team has gathered so far. 

“Yes, it definitely is odd,” you mumble, heart racing in your chest. 

“Okay. We’ll go over this again. There has to be something we’re missing. A connection between them, a club they all go to. Anything, just… fuck, it feels as if there is clue right there, hidden in plain sight and we are missing it because it’s too damn obvious!”

Hidden in plain sight. You blink against your reflection in the window. Hidden in plain sight. Matthew had said the same thing back at the precinct. 

For all we know, they could be hiding in plain sight and we wouldn’t know.

You swirl around, eyes wide and Seokmin looks at you with a confused expression. 

“What?” 

“The barn,” you breathe, eyes flickering to the table, where the car keys lay right where Seokmin left them, “we need to go back.”

Seokmin tries to stop you, the storm still howling outside, but you’re not letting him. This is too important, too obvious. You want to kick yourself for not realizing it earlier. For seeing something that was right there, but not actually seeing it. 

You run to the car, soaked from head to toe when you sit down on the driver’s seat. The door to the passenger seat opens and Seokmin plops down, just as drenched as you are.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, will you tell me what the fuck is happening right now?”

Instead of answering, you start the engine, the wipers doing their best to clear your view.

“Y/N!” Seokmin repeats loudly and you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“It has to be in there! In the barn. All those god damn empty boxes. One of them has to have something in it, something they don’t want us to find. Fucking hell, we could have had the whole team here by now, Seokmin! If only we hadn’t been lazy!”

“Wait, hold on. So you think the Travises have something to do with this?” Seokmin asks and you shrug.

“Honestly? I don’t think they do. But it’s still their property now. And most of these boxes are theirs. I’m sure we’ll find something there. We just have to look at every single box.”

You’re almost in a haze, Seokmin thinks. Your eyes have completely changed and the way you drive this car would have been scary if only you weren’t so damn impressive. You have been impressive the whole day, Seokmin thinks. He would never say it out loud (not to you at least) but this job seems to fit you like a glove. Never did it cross his mind back in High School that you’d end up in the same field as him. He gulps down the nostalgia and instead looks out the window, wondering if the rain will stop anytime soon. 

It hasn’t been long since the two of you left the Travises and yet, when you arrive, the house is dark. Checking your watch you see it's already after 9pm. 

“They said we can come back whenever.” You say more to yourself than Seokmin, but the latter still nods, cursing under his breath when he steps out of the car and into the horrible weather. You run alongside him, passing the house and first barn, setting foot in the one you had a hunch about with both of you drenched from head to toe. Ignoring the cold creeping up, you begin examining the boxes once again. There is nothing extraordinary about them. They are the usual cardboard boxes one uses for moves, all over the country. It’s nothing you haven’t seen thousand of times before and-

“Y/N, look at this.” Seokmin’s voice fills the silence that has only been accompanied by the sound of rain and thunder before. Looking over at him, you see that he is holding up two different boxes upside down. There is a green dot on both of them. Your eyes widen. Quickly, you check your own box - but nothing. There is no dot. Confusion mixed with frustration begins to rise within you and you throw the box to the side, pulling clam hands through wet hair. 

“There has to be a system,” you mumble, closing your eyes as you try to calm yourself down. Seokmin hears your words and looks around the room, trying to make sense of how the boxes are lined up. They all look the same. They were all stacked the same when you came in earlier today. There isn’t anything about them that makes one different from the other - except for the dots he had discovered. His brain is working at full speed, his eyes roaming from one side of the room to the other. Only when he looks down, does he see something.

“Y/N, look,” he puts the two boxes he held up to the side and crouches down, your figure standing over him a second later. There were clear lines painted on the floor. He looks up at you and you feel your eyes beginning to shake, as you move as quickly as possible, shoving more boxes to the side and focusing on the floor. And yes, only a few moments later you find yet another line, one that contains boxes with more dots - orange ones. But it doesn’t stop there. Seokmin finds another line and boxes that, once again, don’t have a dot. He wants to pull his hair out, but once you begin looking at the boxes with him, your gaze full of determination, he calms down. Together, the two of you turn over every single box until, after what feels like hours, you let out a gasp. The box you’re holding now doesn’t only have a red dot on it - it also contains something. Seokmin is next to you right when you pull out the small key that makes both of you almost jump in glee. Your hunch had been right. Now all you had to do was find where the key belonged. Your eyes met and without words, Seokmin went to the left side of the room and you to the right one, both of your hearts beating at rapid speed at this point. Neither of you wants to or will leave this place until you find whatever door is hidden behind the wooden planks decorating the walls. Your hands flew over them, knocking to hear a hollow sound, anything that would indicate there being a hidden space. Nervous sweat was now mixing with the rain on your face, the earlier cold all forgotten thanks to the adrenaline you were feeling. 

“I got something!” Seokmin suddenly yells after a few minutes and you immediately turn and run over to him, seeing him break the wall free of the plank. Just that there is no wall. It is a thin wooden door with a small lock that looks like it was made for the key safely stored inside  the pocket of your jeans. Without any hesitation, you move forward, key back in your hand after pulling it out, and reuniting it with its lock - the door clicking open a second later. Seokmin and you look at each other again before you push the door with your hand, it easily swings open for you and Seokmin to see a narrow hallway led down by an old looking staircase. There is a string hanging down from the ceiling which Seokmin pulls on, lighting up the hallway for you to see more clearly. 

“Well, let’s go,” you say and Seokmin nods, both of you with one hand on your gun belts as you walk down the stairs, all the way down to a door that, thankfully, isn’t locked. Pushing this one open as well, you are met by another hallway, longer this time, with three doors leading to different rooms on each side. You feel adrenaline rush through you as you begin walking, Seokmin right behind you. The first two doors lead to empty storage rooms, you taking the ones on the left, Seokmin on the right. Your hands feel clammy and your senses are all heightened as you continue to the next door, opening it at once and checking the insides carefully, gun in your hand. No one is in there - but it’s also not empty. 

“Seokmin!” You call out and the man is beside you right then, eyes scanning the room. It’s an office, or at least it appears to be. Right on the wall across from you hangs a portrait of a beautiful landscape and only barely hides a very obvious closet of some sorts. You shove your gun back into your belt and walk straight up to it, while Seokmin goes to examine the desk standing at the left side of the room. He pulls out a pair of gloves from the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls them over his fingers before he begins to open each and every drawer. 

“There isn’t much dust around here,” you suddenly say and Seokmin looks over at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Someone comes here regularly. Cleans it of dust, keeps the floors clean.” You look around for a moment, then your focus is back on the painting hanging over the closet. Your hands are also wrapped up in a pair of gloves and you move slowly as you grab the edges of the frame to heave it off the wall. It occurs to you that the last time someone was here, they hadn’t succeeded in putting the painting back into its usual spot. You can tell because it comes off the wall without any problems, having been crooked from the beginning on. Now, you lean it against the wall next to you, before your hands open the closet. 

“Is something in there?” Seokmin walks over to you now, nothing interesting inside the desk.

Once he comes to a halt next to you, he feels himself gasp. There is a whole shelf with files that seem to be alphabetically organized. Your heart beat speeds up once more as you grab a random file (Br-Bu) and open it. 

“That-,” Seokmin’s eyes widen. As you continue staring at the page, he moves to pull out more of the files. He brings them over to the desk and opens them one by one, until he finds all the names he has been looking for.

“Broshard, Cartwright, Franco, Rogers, Twain and White.” 

Seokmin and you are staring at the files. It was all of the girls’ parents. They had all been part of this cult before. It made sense, of course it did. And yet, having it here, black on white, was still a shock. This meant their connection had been right there, so easy to grab, and none of the parents had thought about sharing this with the police. You lean against the desk, hands pulling through your damp hair. Seokmin’s hands are propped on his hips, his eyes reading over the names over and over again. 

“We have confirmation now,” he states, “we need to call the precinct.” He looks over at you and you nod, your hands still resting in your hair. Worry rushes through Seokmin and he finds himself standing in front of you a second later, his hands around your wrists to bring your hands back down softly.

“We will get him,” he says then, eyes boring into yours, “we will get him and he will be punished, Y/N, I promise you.”

It’s unprofessional, he knows it and so do you. You don’t ever promise to catch a killer. 

“Why didn’t the parents tell you?” Your voice is quiet and Seokmin sighs, shrugging. His hands are still holding you.

“I don’t know. Shame, fear? Whoever is doing this is a cold blooded murder, Y/N, they were probably scared he’d take even more from them.”

“More than a child?” You look up at him, letting the feelings that you’ve been holding back finally crack through. 

“I guess so? We will find all of this out tomorrow, we just need to get back to the motel and call the precinct.” 

He says the words but doesn’t move. Neither do you. You both stay right where you are, your eyes locked on each other. The air around you shifts, the exhaustion mixes with something you only have faint memories of.

“You are incredible, do you know that?” Seokmin whispers finally, “the way your brain works - it’s incredible. Admirable.” 

His body heat engulfs you, makes you feel hot and cold at the same time. You swallow down your doubts and instead let your heart do the talking.

“You’re just as incredible, Seokmin. All the work you’ve done in this case already… if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Seokmin feels himself holding his breath as his one hand moves from your wrist to your fingers, interlocking them with his own while the other moves up, cupping your cheek, thumb caressing the side of your chin. He feels your skin, the softness he remembers better than he wants to admit. 

Neither of you is sure who does it. Who dares to close the distance. But you’re kissing, his lips warm and familiar on yours. Your arms move by themselves, wrapping around Seokmin’s neck as he deepens the kiss, his tongue licking over your bottom lip slowly, asking for entrance that you give him without any hesitation. He kisses better than he did back in high school and his hands are more experienced, moving down and up to grab your hips and hoist you on top of the desk, standing in between your legs now. You grab his face, your tongue licking against his, feeling the stress and discomfort of the day leave you with every touch of his skin. The kiss grows more and more desperate, both of you panting against each other and only after a good five minutes do you part, his hands in your hair and yours on his nape.

“We should get out of here,” he mumbles against your lips then and you nod, letting him help you down the desk.

This time the drive isn’t awkward. It’s filled with something else, something you haven’t felt in so long. Not just regarding Seokmin - but in general. Your work is your everything and you and your team travel around the country more than you don’t. Wanting someone, feeling wanted by someone, this hasn’t happened to you in a while. Your gaze keeps wandering to the driving Seokmin, to the man that had once hurt you so much and now was the only thing you could concentrate on. 

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that I will park this car on the side of the road and not give a fuck about anyone seeing what I want to do to you, Y/N.”

His deep voice made your insides turn deliciously, the heat between your legs rising as you licked over your dry lips, eyes shaking as you nodded, averting your gaze from Seokmin’s intoxicating frame. As much as the idea excited you it also seemed like a stupid idea considering the motel really wasn’t that far away. 

It doesn’t take half as long as it usually would with Seokmin speeding down the road, finally parking the car in the parking lot, getting out of the car and opening the door for you, his hand around yours in no time as he leads you to the door, both of you drenched again when you step inside. But even with all the tension between you two, Seokmin walks over to the telephone on the wall, passing a young man who just seemed to have left his room to go outside. You present him with a nod when he smiles at you, quick to look at Seokmin again who is now dialing the number of the precinct. 

When he explains what you found, he speaks quietly and rushed, you by his side the whole time, holding his fingers between yours. The tension doesn’t subside, it only gets shoved to the side as Seokmin talks to his superior, who was still at the station at this time, waiting for your call. Your head feels dizzy, the situation bizarre but also somewhat addictive. The second Seokmin hangs up, knowing his colleagues will leave for Schnecksville as soon as the storm gets better, he wraps an arm around your waist and leads you to your room with hurried steps. 

The door falls shut behind the two of you and your body is pressed against it, Seokmin’s one hand skillfully wrapped around both of your wrists, pinning them over your head as he dips down to kiss you, his thigh pressing between yours. A moan escapes you, your hands wiggling under Seokmin’s grasp. He kisses you with the same desperation as before, his free hand underneath your shirt, fingers pressing into your skin. 

Nothing is inside your head except the need for him. You don’t want to feel anything but his touch, his kisses, the way his tongue feels against yours - hot and wet and perfect. He moves his arm around you again, picks you up as if you weigh nothing, carrying you over to the bed where he drops you, your eyes wide as you stare up at him. There is no light in the room beside the one coming from outside, making him look angelic. His carefully styled hair is falling into his face now, his lips red from your kisses. His pupils are blown out and the look in his eyes runs shivers down your spine. You watch as he gets rid of his jacket and belt, following his movement as you sit up a little bit, skillfully opening the belt with your gun and leaving it on the floor next to the bed, feeling the mattress move the next second as Seokmin lowers himself onto the bed. Your hands find his nape once more just as he presses his lips against yours again, hands roaming from your hips to your stomach and under your shirt, gripping your breasts one by one and moaning into your mouth when his thumb feels the stiff nipple underneath your bra. 

His tongue licks against yours again, your back arching against him as he moves to kiss down your neck, biting and licking and kissing all the same. When he hears your sounds, he feels himself growing harder, his composure almost breaking as he takes off your shirt with your help, shoving the cups of your bra to the side to dip down and suck your nipple into his mouth, your legs wrapping around his waist as you push him closer to you, teeth sinking into you bottom lip. It feels like electricity between you, the way he touches you sends shocks through your body in the best way possible. 

“God, I can’t believe I have you under me again, fuck,” Seokmin breathes against your neck now, his breath tickling you. “Been thinking about you so much, you know? About how much more I know now… how I can make you cum, baby, eat your sweet pussy and have you scream my name.”

His words send another wave of shivers down your body and you nod, wishing for nothing more than for your and his clothing to land on the floor. 

“Seokmin… just want you to fuck me, please, need you so so bad.” 

He groans, cock twitching and he finally moves to open his pants. It’s all hurried and a little bit frantic, the way you pull on his shirt next and the way your bra basically gets ripped off your frame by him. It drives you crazy, how he kisses you, pushing you further up the bed, your head hitting the pillow as he devours your lips and tongue, his hand squeezing your tits over and over, his stiff cock right there between your legs, still caged in by his briefs. 

“How bad do you want it, hm?” He breathes out, his fingers now moving downwards, ending up over your clothed pussy, making you squirm.

“Fuck, so bad, Seokmin. Please.” 

He sucks on the skin underneath your ear and lets his fingers shove your panty to the side, sliding through your wet folds and moaning against you. You’re so wet, wet and ready for him. 

“I wonder if you still taste the same, baby,” he mumbles, continuing to let his fingers glide through your lips, letting one of them sink into you. Your pussy practically sucks him in, eager to feel him inside. Seokmin kisses you again and your nails are dragging along his back as your hips move against Seokmin’s digit inside of you. 

“M-more, want more of you,” you cry out when you come up for air and Seokmin nods, letting a second finger slide in too, fully finger fucking you now as he smothers your neck with more kisses, preceding to suck marks onto the sensitive skin of your breasts, your whimpers becoming more and more frenzied. You need his cock and you need it now. So, you let your hand wander down, grabbing around the wrist of his hand that is currently fucking you.

“Want your cock, Seok… fuck me with your cock.” His eyes meet yours, gaze almost crazy as he curses under his breath, nodding before pulling his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth to suck them clean - making you whimper in the process. He licks his lips after.

“Still so tasty, baby… all for me.” 

He kisses you one more time, deep and emotional and dizzying, before finally ridding himself of his briefs and you of your panties, hand pumping his length a few times. You watch and swallow, remembering how he had felt back then. He had been your first. And now he was going to claim back what he had made his so many years ago. 

When he sinks into you, both of you cry out in pleasure, his arms on the mattress next to your head and his lips kissing your cheek, chin and lips. You are still hugging him close, fingers pressing into his nape and back. His first thrust is deep and slow and your eyes roll back, a long moan escaping your kiss-bruised lips. He can’t keep going slow, he knows that. As hard as he tries - he knows he won’t be able to control himself. Which leads to his thrusts becoming faster, to his moans becoming louder and your pussy clenching around him more often. It’s hot and wet and quick, it’s making you feel like you’re in a dream, his teeth sinking into your flesh, your cries spurring him on. Your legs are around his hips, his cock hitting you right where you need it to with every thrust and when you feel his hand sneaking in between you, thumb pressing down on your clit, rubbing it in perfect circles, you know you won’t last long. 

“You feel so good, baby, take my cock so fucking well.” He moves, on his knees in front of you now, your legs over his shoulders the next second. The new angle makes you see stars, especially with his thumb still on your clit.

“F-fuck, Seok! I’m so close.” Your cry makes him smirk, his movements becoming less and less controlled, as he is chasing both of your releases. You give up on keeping your eyes open, enjoying the way he feels, the way he hits you right where it feels so incredibly good. Your body is on fire, everything feels more intense and if you had the capacity in your brain you’d probably worry about exploding. 

And you do - you explode only a few seconds later, your orgasm hitting you hard, leaving you to cry out his name, nails back in his skin, leaving clear marks that he will be proud of later. 

“That’s right, baby, look at you, so pretty coming on my cock, fuck,” Seokmin feels you pulsate around him, feels how your pussy clenches over and over, milking him for all he has and there isn’t anything he can do but reach his own high, cum shooting out his cock and into your spent core. He collapses on top of you, your legs falling off his shoulders, spasming at the intensity of your climax. His breath is right there in your ear and you finally open your eyes again, fingers moving to stroke through his hair. You stay like this for a while, just catching your breath, feeling him so close after so long. Only when he slips out of you, laying down next to you, his lips pressing a kiss to your cheek, do you regain some senses. Smiling at him, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. 

When you come back out, Seokmin is asleep. Chuckling, you pick up his shirt from the floor and slip it over your head before laying back down, cuddling into his side and letting yourself drift off into a dreamless sleep. 

For Seokmin it’s not a dreamless sleep, though. It hasn’t even been two hours he’s been asleep when he wakes up, cold sweat covering his body. He looks down and sees you peacefully sleeping right beside him, one of your hands on his bare stomach, the other under your own cheek. In any other case he would have loved to look at you for as long as he could, but this isn’t like any other case. 

The man, he thinks, the man we saw yesterday. Seokmin gets up, careful not to wake you up, grabbing his underwear from the floor, just like his pants. You’re in his shirt so he has no other choice but to leave the room with his chest still bare. His feet carry him out the room and to the small entrance space, right to the phone where he dials Bream’s number again. The second someone picks up, Seokmin begins talking.

“It’s the son, Sir, the Travises son - he’s the unsub.”

The area in front of the farm hasn’t been this busy in years. There are cop cars everywhere, a S.W.A.T team is about to arrive. Seokmin has his hands pushed into his pockets as he talks to his superior officer. You are standing further away next to Matthew and Yuqi, listening to Hyunwoo’s orders. 

Seokmin had recognised the son, Henry, from the pictures at the house. You feel stupid for not realizing it sooner. 

“Don’t linger on those feelings, Y/N,” Hyunwoo says, “it had been a long day.”

Yes, a long day that ended with you being too horny to do your job properly. You don’t tell him that of course. Instead, you press your lips together and just nod. 

Henry is inside the barn now, the barn you and Seokmin found the secret door in last night. His parents and the missing girl, Kelly, are with him. It’s a classic hostage situation and yet even your team is at a loss of words. It all doesn’t make sense right now. Why is Henry doing this? You let your gaze flicker over to the barn, wondering what he is doing to them right now. 

The head of the S.W.A.T team is walking over to Hyunwoo now. They apparently arrived just now

“We are ready for your orders, Sir,” he says, shaking Hyunwoo’s hand. Your boss nods.

“Alright, thank you. I’ll let you know when you can go in.” The man leaves again after that and you look at Hyunwoo, unsure.

“We need him alive, don’t we?”

“In theory, yes. But it’s not always easy, you know that. Whatever is going on inside of him, we will only find out if we get him out, but we need to look at the bigger picture. We need to figure out what his deal is.”

Just then, Jungwoo arrives at the scene, carrying a white box. 

“You won’t believe this,” he says, putting the box on top of the police car next to you. Seokmin is suddenly next to you, his arm brushing against yours and making you shiver. You ignore the effect once again. 

“Henry Crawl, 36, was adopted by the Travises when he was 9 years old. It says here that his mother committed suicide and the Travises took him in - Mrs. Travis being is paternal aunt. She felt responsible for him, considering the father left right after his birth and his mother died.”

“So, they aren’t his biological parents. They didn’t mention that.” Seokmin frowns. 

“Which means that there is a chance his mother was part of this cult. Is there an autopsy report for his mum?” You take step closer to the box and Jungwoo nods, handing you the document. Scanning it, your eyes widen as suddenly the reason for all of this is starting to make sense. 

“There were signs of abuse - of years of abuse. Scars, bruises, internal damages.” You shake your head, “he isn’t killing women because he hates them. He kills them because he is avenging his mother.”

“She was part of the cult, probably around the same time as the parents of the girls. They probably knew about the abuse and he somehow figured it out.” Matthew chews on his bottom lip as he shoves his glasses up his nose. 

“We need to talk to him. Need him to let the girl go as well as his parents.” Hyunwoo looks over at the truck where all the special units are gathered. He excuses himself and goes over to them. The atmosphere shifts, there are nervous droplets of sweat running down your face. The storm might have stopped, but it’s still slightly drizzling down on you. Seokmin’s hand finds the small of your back. You flinch, your head turning to look at him wide eyed.

“It’s gonna be okay, we’re going to get them out of there,” his voice is soothing you, as much as you hate to admit it. You swallow down whatever you’re thinking and shake his hand off, before walking over to Hyunwoo and the special forces, leaving Seokmin behind.

“I want to talk to him.” Your voice breaks through the conversation Hyunwoo is having with the captain. Both of them look at you, eyebrows raised.

“Y/N-,” Hyunwoo starts, but you interrupt him.

“You know it has to be me. I am roughly the same age as his mother was back then. I am a woman. I know what is going on inside his head. Please, Sir, let me do this.”

If there had been more time, maybe they would have argued with you. But there isn’t any time. And so, they nod. As much as it makes you nervous, you also know that you’re right. You’re confident that you can do this, that you have the ability to save this girl and Henry’s parents. Taking a deep breath, you look over at Seokmin, who’s eyes speak more than a thousand words. He knows why you walked over there and he knows that you are the only one for the job. The smile on his lips reassures you more than you want to admit. 

Not even five minutes later you have a walkie-talkie in your hand. The other one landed in the barn roughly a minute ago. Now, you’re waiting for Henry to respond after your first attempt at contact. The rain is still falling softly, the sun nowhere to be seen in the sky. It’s early, you’re not sure how early, but you estimate it to be sometime after 6 am. 

“I won’t let them go!” The voice coming from the device in your hand brings you back to the here and now, blood rushing in your ears.

“Henry, hello, it’s good to hear your voice,” you say softly, looking over at one of the windows of the barn, wondering if he is watching you.

“I don’t- I won’t let them go,” he repeats and you lick your dried out lips.

“Okay, Henry. I hear what you’re saying, alright? You don’t want to let them go. Could you tell me why?”

“They need to pay for their sins!” It’s not hard to make out that he’s enraged, crying, but still hurt and confused. 

“What are their sins, Henry? Can you tell me?” You look over your shoulder at the rest of your team, Hyunwoo nodding at you and you nod back.

“You- you really want to know?” The shift in his voice tells you that your question had been exactly what he wanted to hear. 

“Yes, Henry. I want to know, I want to understand.”

There is silence on the other line for just a few moments. You remain calm and don’t ask again. It’s important you give him space, important for the hostages as well as to earn his trust. 

“They- they knew about my mum. My adoptive parents. I heard them say it. They knew why the police came to visit. It was because of her, because of mum. She was tortured by them, by the whole cult! And everyone who knew about it and didn’t do anything needs to be punished.” His voice is shaking as he speaks and you wonder if the hostages are in the room with him or if he has them hidden underneath the barn in one of the rooms you found last night.

“You’re doing this for your mum, Henry? You’re avenging her life?”

“Yes!”

“I understand. You did well, Henry. You hurt them the way they hurt you. They should have never taken your mother from you, Henry, that was wrong of them,” the words leaving your mouth aren’t what you’re actually thinking, but they will do the trick. Henry will trust you, he will listen to what you have to say.

“I- I did this for her. I wanted her to know I never gave up on her. B-but-,” he stops and you hear a sob, sure now that he is indeed crying. 

“But? You can talk to me Henry, I am here for you.” You bite your lip, hoping you’re not pressing the matter too far.

“B-but…,” Henry starts again, “but he- he betrayed me. He told me- he told me they were the only one’s at fault. He told me he wanted to avenge her too…”

He? You once again turn to your team, all of their faces in frowns. 

“Who is “he”, Henry?” 

No answer. Henry isn’t responding. You feel a slight panic arise inside of you. 

“Henry, it’s okay. You don’t need to tell me, okay? Just- tell me about you, about your mum. You must miss her dearly, right?” 

“My mum deserved better than what she got. She shouldn’t have killed herself, she should have fought through it! But she couldn’t. She was so scared of what they had done to her, what he had done to her! I wanted them all to suffer, wanted them all to know what it feels like losing someone they love. And I did that, I did that to him too!” He gets louder with every word. 

“Henry, you’re frustrations are valid. But, please, it is enough. You’ve showed them, you’ve hurt them. Enough people have died, Henry. Let your parents and Kelly go and you will be free.”

Henry is silent for a short while again.

“If he doesn’t respond, we’ll go in,” the S.W.A.T team’s leader is now saying to Hynwoo and latter holds up his hand, as if to signal to give it more time.

“Henry? Can you do that for me?” You ask again. Everyone is growing more and more uneasy, the more time passes. Your hands are sweaty and you feel like the rain isn’t the reason for why your clothes are damp again. Just when Hyunwoo is about to take his hand down, to let the special unit do their job - the doors of the barn open and Kelly runs out, the Travises right behind her. They all seem completely out of it but there are clear signs of relief on their faces. Seokmin and Stolper run towards them, helping them when they see, that Mr. Travis is limping and both women are spurting wounds on their face. You close your eyes and take a deep breath before pressing the button to talk again.

“Henry? Henry, are you there?” 

“My parents always loved me. They raised me when mum died. But they knew, you know. They knew! Which means, they need to suffer, too.” 

Your heart skips a beat when you throw the walkie-talkie to the side and run towards the barn, your team right behind you. You don’t think you’ve ever run as fast as you do right now. The air is tight around you and its rough to breathe. 

Henry is right there at the back of the barn, holding a gun to his head. You scream and Hyunwoo shoots forward to tackle him down - but it’s too late. The shot is heard but your eyes are closed, your knees growing weak but you stay standing. Henry is dead even before he hits the floor and there is nothing you can do. 

The hostages are free, so it counts as a win. The Manhattan Slasher is finally caught. He lays there, dead on the ground. He is getting carried away now, by two coroners who present you with a nod as you wait for Matthew and Jungwoo to come back upstairs. You hadn’t felt like you could go downstairs and see whatever Henry had left for you to find. 

You're sitting outside now, seeing Seokmin approach you, with a file in his hands. You look up at him, blinking against the rain. When he stands in front of you, it’s almost like the sun showed its face after all. He isn’t smiling, though. He just radiates this energy that immediately gets your spirits up.

“The judge,” he says, handing you the file, “it’s all in here. He was the one controlling Henry. Told him all those parents were the reason his mum suffered. And while it’s not all a lie - the judge himself was the actual perpetrator.”

With a slightly shaking hand, you reach for the file and open it, reading through what is evidence of Seokmin’s words. Now, this was something neither you nor your team has predicted. You swallow down a set of tears.

“He used Henry. But for what?”

“My guess is as good as yours, but, if I may try myself at your job: They probably got fed up with his shit. Told him they would rat him out to the police if he didn’t turn himself in for abusing that woman. He began killing their children as a way to keep them quiet. My guess is, that he has been keeping them quiet ever since Henry’s mum committed suicide and they all only recently began to wonder if maybe this was wrong.” 

Seokmin’s words reach your brain and they make sense as much as they don’t. You’ve been working this job long enough to know that there will never be something as full closure. People act irrationally all the time, do things no one understands. There is nothing you can do about it but wait it out, wait for the injustice to die down within you. In the end there is no point to try and understand people like this. Not that these parents deserved to have their daughters get killed. 

You thank Seokmin with a small nod and he sits down next to you. Next there will be the arrest of the judge. Then the parents will be questioned, and will get a punishment of their own because they didn’t stop the murders when they had the chance. You know they couldn’t because they were scared, but the law is clear. 

You feel Seokmin’s hand capturing yours and you look over at him. The business around the farm isn’t done yet. Boxes get carried and there is more forensic personnel than you’ve seen in a while, probably taking apart the basement you and Seokmin had found. It should be relief you’re feeling but right now you’re just tired. 

So, when Seokmin pulls you against him, arm around your waist, you don’t even try to stop yourself from laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes. 

header by @wongyuseokie.

[landitolover]

𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒊’𝒔 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍, in which pedri loves to get on charles’ nerves by flirting with his girlfriend.. ౨ৎ charles x fem!reader

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yourusername great game today 💙❤️

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user ugh 😭😭😭😭😭

user is it jus me who finds it odd that she rarely posts charles .. and is always posting pedri ?

→ user not rlly idk..? she lives in barcelona, and so does pedri, they see each other more often = more posts of pedri, bc charles is always away for his races ….

user the world stopped. everyone and their mother is screaming at this post, people died, people cried— the world actually DIED!!!!!!!!

user im crying shes so gorgeous :’’’’)

user im gonna throw UPPP SHES A GODDESS 🛐

user MAAMAMAMAAA 😍

user my oh my

user she’s the reason i am bi .

user IM MALFUNCTIONING

user i’m fighting charles and pedri for her

user wait r they dating ?? i’m new around here 😭

→ user no, she’s dating charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc SO GORGEOUS MY LOVE

→ yourusername I LOVE YOOOUUU 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼

charles_leclerc get rid of the blue and just wear my red x (or nothing at all)

→ yourusername GET OUT….

→ landonorris I think i just threw up

→ lilymhe thirsting on the main is crazy 😭😭 (real)

→ carlossainz55 children are on this app, charlitos…

pedri my jersey looks amazing on you

→ charles_leclerc yeah? and i’m the one ripping it off at the end of the night 🤣

→ pedri 🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼

→ charles_leclerc LOLL YOU’RE MAD

pedri 😍😍😍

→ yourusername 😇😇❣️

pedri gorgeous girl

→ yourusername thank you pedri ‼️

lilymhe THE PRETTIEST EVER ML 😭😭😭

→ yourusername YOUUUU.

lilymhe the only thing I like abt ur white man, is you 😍😍

→ yourusername kiss me lily

→ lilymhe 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏾👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏾

carlossainz55 I don’t like this post

→ charles_leclerc same, I don’t like seeing my girlfriend in other mens teams shirt 😒

→ carlossainz55 become a madrid fan !

→ charles_leclerc I might just have to

→ carlossainz55 welcome mate 💪

→ yourusername blocked and reported, both of u.

→ charles_leclerc I’m your BOYFRIEND???🤧🤧

→ yourusername does it look like i gaf?????? GET OUT MADRIDISTAS!!!!!

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

Liked by yourusername, fcbarcelona, and 872,728 others

charles_leclerc Such an amazing game! 😃

tagged fcbarcelona

View all 998 comments

user who forced u to go.

user we ❤️ a bf who supports his gfs bffs game x

user forced ass smile dawg 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

→ user LMFAOO RIGHT

user hes so mamalicious

user weird way to propose but yes !

user screaming crying throwing up i cant do this anymore

user i literally just died dead

user my new fav culer xxx

→ carlossainz55 he’s a MADRIDISTA.

pedri I hope I impressed your girlfriend

→ charles_leclerc blocked and reported

→ charles_leclerc GET OUT MY DAMN COMMENTS YOU SPANIARD

→ charles_leclerc you did NOT IMPRESS HER

→ pedri says the man who dnfs basically every race

→ user OH NAAHHH 😭😭

IMESSAGE GROUP CHAT, “BABYGIRLS’

LILY 💋

how long til charles breaks

PEDRI 🫂

he’s a very hard man to break

YN

you guys are so evil for setting him up

LILY 💋

it’s so funny seeing him fight for his life in the comments though 😭😭

PEDRI 🫂

right

LILY 💋

it’s also funny how you forced him to go to a game

YN

yeah and I’m gonna force pedri to a race

PEDRI 🫂

and watch him dnf? no thanks

LILY 💋

THAT’S CRAZY 😭

ur foul for that pedri

PEDRI 🫂

my bad

my hand slipped on the send button

YN

you’re so MEAN 😭😭

PEDRI 🫂

I’ll go to the race ????

YN

alrighty 😁😁

LILY 💋

pedri in the paddock soo ooo ooon 🗣️🗣️!!!!

You loved “pedri in the paddock soo ooo ooon 🗣️🗣️!!!!”

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

Liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 89,919 others

yourusername CONGRATULATIONS ON WINNING MY LOVE 🥹🥹❤️❤️ SO PROUD BABY 🤧🤧

tagged charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari

View all 783 comments

user OH MY WORD AAUASDXC

user ur JOKIIING 😭😭😭😭 Im crying i havent been this happy since lime forver 😭😭😭

user third pic too real :///

user YN WHAT DID U DO FOF HIM TO WIN 🤧

→ user she bribed ferrari strategist to actually strategize x

→ yourusername it’s true, i did

user i 😭 cant 😭 take 😭 it 😭

user hes so gorgeous i might cry

user real tears coming out of mg eyes do not tlakn to me.

user her very rare post of charles 🤧

pedri surprised he didn’t dnf

→ charles_leclerc YOU’RE EVIL.

→ pedri 😘

→ lilymhe enemies to lovers type shit

→ yourusername “pedri x charles. 10k words. enemies to lovers”

→ charles_leclerc hello what ???? 😭

pedri he’s so fugly

→ charles_leclerc I KNOW YOUR ASS AINT TALKING WIT THOSE SKINNY ASS JEANS BRUH 🤦🤦🤦🤦

→ yourusername ik both of you guys aren’t talking.

lilymhe good job charles 🏆🏆

→ charles_leclerc thank you for not being a hater (unlike other people I know.)

charles_leclerc MA CHÉRIE I LOVE YOU 🫶🏻

→ yourusername I LOVE YOU MORE ❤️

charles_leclerc red is more your color

→ yourusername I think so too

INSTAGRAM

Liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, and 98,929 others

pedri congratulations on winning, I guess 🫡

tagged charles_leclerc

comments have been limited

yourusername charles said to let him comment 🤧

→ pedri is this post not good enough for him? he’s quite greedy.

yourusername you’re too kind pedri xoxo 💋 —charles

lilymhe ITS HAPPENING, THEYRE GETTING ALONG

→ pedri never

lilymhe awwwwwww!!!!!

IMESSAGE GROUP CHAT, “BF & BFF”

CHA ❤️

pedri

PEDRI 🫂

what.

CHA ❤️

are we like bffs now

PEDRI 🫂

not in a billion years

YN

BRO 😭

please be friends with my bf..

CHA ❤️

i second that

i’m quite lovely

PEDRI 🫂

😒😒

i guess

I’ll still hate on you on insta though

this friendship be between only us.

CHA ❤️

🤓☝️

alright….

YN

omg finally

ur getting along 🤧🤧!!!

INSTAGRAM

Liked by lilymhe, pedri, charles_leclerc and 98,029

yourusername when the plans actually make it out of the gc …

tagged lilymhe, pedri

View all 678 comments

user they’re all so hot

user ynlily is real to me

→ lilymhe i agree

→ yourusername lets ditch our bfs

user lil bro don’t wanna be there

→ user cause hes third wheeling

user sometimes babygirls are three ppl in their 20s 😢

user i’m actually sobbing

user MAMAMAAMAMAMAS 🤤🤤😍😍

user they’re gorgeous, and pedri is just there..

pedri never let the plans get out the gc again

→ yourusername yk you had fun…

→ lilymhe SUCH A HATER…… 🤧😢

pedri you took that picture without my consent

→ yourusername my bad lil bro

→ pedri 😐😐

lilymhe you’re so gorgeous 😍

→ yourusername ur more gorgeous ;)

lilymhe next time it’ll just be us baby

→ yourusername 💋💋

charles_leclerc why am i never invited

→ yourusername cause ur always away going vroom vroom in a car

→ user I feel bad for him 🙁🙁

→ user fr yn is always going everywhere without charles

charles_leclerc you look so gorgeous, i miss you :(❤️

→ yourusername thank you, i miss you more 🫶🏾

TWITTER

IMESSAGE GROUP CHAT, “BABYGIRLS”

LILY 💋

YN

CHARLES’ FANS ARE ON UR ASS RN 😭

PEDRI 🫂

“charles always gets left out 🥺”

that man is 25 he do not care

YN

LMFAOO

right 😭

like I love him but some of his “fans” are so …

LILY 💋

Fr they’re dramatic sometimes

u hangout with him too much = ur a clingy girlfriend

u don’t hangout with him as much = ur a bad girlfriend

YN

NO LITERALLY

these bitches r never happy with what i do

like its MY relationship ??? 😭

INSTAGRAM

Liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, pedri, and 99,908 others

yourusername he is fine y’all, perfectly fine.. please don’t call paw patrol 😐

tagged charles_leclerc

user 😭😭😂😍🤣😍😁😊😃😂😁💔💔💔

user PLS THE CAPTION 😭

→ user shes sick of THOSE charles fans

user they r so 🤧🤧❤️❤️

user they’re SO taylor coded .

→ user specifically you are in love ://

user god i see what you do for others

user im

→ user me too girl, me too

user officially my favorite couple

user the last pic. I AM DISGUSTED 😂😂😭😭💔💔

user sliding down mt wall i cant trake this 😊😊😊😊

charles_leclerc Je t'aime 🤍

→ yourusername I love you more 🤍

charles_leclerc MY GIRL MY GIRL

charles_leclerc you’re so lovely

→ yourusername 🥹🥹❤️

pedri cuties

→ lilymhe OMG PEDRI NOT BEIN A HATER !!!!!!

→ charles_leclerc i knew you secretly loved me xx

→ yourusername HES EVOLVED 💯💯‼️‼️

pedri i took the 2nd, 3rd, & 4th pic 😒😒😒

→ yourusername oh yeah, sorry 🤧. PEDRI TOOK THOSE PICTURES EVERYONE!!!!

lilymhe CUTEST COUPLE EVER

→ yourusername YOUU AND ALEX 🤧🥹

carlossainz55 give me back my charles, he was mine first 😞

→ yourusername no cause you’re gonna make him go to the devils side.. madrid…

→ carlossainz55 come to the good side, to madrid! porfa yn 🙏🏼

→ pedri they’re both culers forever 🥰🥰

→ charles_leclerc true !!!!

→ yourusername very very true

yourusername just added one new story

viewed by charles_leclerc pedri carlossainz55 and 78,729 others

INSTAGRAM

Liked by yourusername, pedri, and 987,778 others

charles_leclerc you areee in looove, true love 🤍

tagged yourusername

View all 878 comments

user SHUT UP

user whatcha know abt taylor.. CHARLES….

→ charles_leclerc a lot actually, when your girlfriend only listens to taylor 24/7 you start to get some t swizzle knowledge 🤷🤷

user Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc, THE CAPTION 😭

user get out OH MY GOD

user im so sick like actually.

user they are so cute i physically cannot do it anymore

user 🤢🤢😭😭💔💔😠😠🤧🤧😐😐

user babies my babies

user charles quoting taylor? ur twisted.

user charles lerizzler

pedri she’s giggling over this post

→ charles_leclerc 🤭🤭

lilymhe alex_albon why aren’t you this cute with your captions

→ alex_albon 🖕🏼🖕🏼

→ lilymhe SEE, YOU ARENT BEING VERY ROMANTIC!!!

yourusername i’m crying this is so sweet

yourusername this made my caption look bad

→ charles_leclerc I thought your caption was funny

yourusername do NOT talk to me I’m currently giggling and kicking my feet

→ charles_leclerc call me, chérie

→ yourusername yes yes

carlossainz55 down bad

→ charles_leclerc of course I am!

౨ৎ hi guys… yet another reupload from my old blog… (BOOOOO 🙄🙄) i hope u guys enjoyed nonetheless :) i will HOPEFULLY be working on part two of ‘say don’t go’ 🤓🤓

taglist @moneygramhaas @kortneej81 @leclercsluv @landovilla !

[gh0vtzb1og]

Pouring, Simon Riley x fem reader

Trying a new format <3

————————————————————————

Cw; dub con , Threatening , impregnation (?)

—————————————————————————————————————

Your hands gripped your AR, eyes narrowing at the field infront of you. You had worked under graves, being one of his shadows. You were the group of graves only female shadows, just you and another few. Right now you were in the streets of las Alma’s, listening to the chatter of other shadows and the crying of the rain. Flooding the sound of innocents crying out for salvation, for a hero.

This was a war crime, still graves would get away with it. Either blow or ride Shepard shriveled cock to not get in trouble, you shook your head with a bit of frustration. Stopping to listen to a few shadows ramble over the radio.

“I'm telling you right now, don't let these guys get in your head...”

“So, you're tellin' me you see that big boy with the skullface and you're not gonna start sweatin'?”

“I'm not gonna see him-“

“You're right, you won't see him. It's too late if you see him, you're fuckin' already dead.”

They were so fearful of someone who probably couldn’t do anything. You mocked him underneath his breath, him and soap. They didn’t seem intimidating, a Scot and a Brit? How much damage could they do. You moved deeper down an alleyway, your eyes avoiding the dark corners, thinking nothing could lurk there. Nobody could be watching you from the shadows, only evil on their mind. Sure if someone would’ve wanted you dead you would’ve been my now. If ghost wanted you dead, you would be.

For now the masked lieutenant lurked around, slowly following you and listening to your soft voice occasionally whisper into your radio. Just a reminder you were alive. Not that anyone would miss you too much, you refused to let the shadows sleep with you, even graves. You were a virgin and you’d stay that way.

“Eh? Maybe after this we can get drinks and have some fun.” One shadow spoke out into the silence. You clicked your radio and fully replied.

“Virgin, I’d like to stay that way. Not loose it to some random guy.”

The shadow went quiet, ghosts interest peaked at that, virgin you say? Gosh he’d love to pin you up against one of these cold slick walls and ram his cock into your gummy cunt. Ruining it for anyone but him, he wanted to feel your slick velvet walls try and push his cock out. But with that body? You were practically begging for his twitching cock.

Atleast in his mind you were, it was his way of making his actions morally correct. He snuck up behind you quickly, listening to your frustrated quivers and whines. Without a second thought your radio was stripped from you and crushed and you were shoved into a broken in building. Up the stairs and onto a bed. You tried to reach for your side arm or even your main but neither were on your body. Ghost was quick. The man pointed the pistol at you, narrowing his eyes.

“One fucking word and I make these sheets white, am I clear.” He coldly said, you just nodded and laid against the plush white sheets. The lieutenant clicked his radio, speaking to the Scot and keeping his eyes on you.

“Found a girl. I’ll be busy, she might be a tough one to take out.”

Then he clicked his radio off without a second thought. Your shirt and pants were still wet, drenching around your curves and body. How beautiful you were. I’m your mind you were thinking of an escape plan. Ghost crept forward, grabbing his knife and your ankle, tugging you closer to his body. How adorable you were, with that terrified look in your eyes.

You wanted to scream curses and profanities at him. But you knew better, now you just sat quietly and waited for his move. Ghost moved his knife closer to your shirt and cut it off you. Throwing it aside and staring at your pretty lace bra. You swallowed nervously and kicked a bit in protest only to be met with a harsh slap to the ankle. Ghost didn’t enjoy brats, you seemed panicked when his eyes rested on your tits, how gorgeous they were. You were only a body right now, just a personal porn.

Ghost removed your jeans and stripped you of your panties, you felt exposed and fragile. Embarrassed aswell, you didn’t like being naked infront of men, or anyone. You nervously crossed your legs and kept your nervous eyes on him.

“Said you were a virgin eh?”

“. . .” No response from you.

“I’m sure I can work with that, you might tear around me though. Maybe I’ll just leave you all used so your team can have a try.”

“Fuck you.”

He chuckled at your attempt of being tough and ran his fingers against your wet slit, you didn’t want to be sopping for this man but you couldn’t control yourself. This was embarrassing, why were you drenched for the enemy. You crawled further onto the bed as the lieutenant got onto it. Crawling towards your legs and opening them, from the sudden movement you now could see his pants. Along with that massive bulge craving to be taken care of.

“Fuck no.” You immediately protested, a harsh slap meeting your face as you looked down nervously. He was rough, not an ounce of mercy in him. His rough glove teased around your tense warmth, pulling your wet folds aside and letting his finger graze your entrance. Immediately tight. How fun. The masked man undid his belt, then jeans, pulling out his cock and letting one of his hands wrap around it.

This man was a lieutenant, he had power, and strength. There was no way you could fight against him if you wanted to, sure a kick and scream but he’d be balls deep into you before any help came.

“Yknow I haven’t done this on a mission in awhile.” He lined his tip up with your warmth, feeling your walls immediately tighten at the new feeling.

You let out a little grunt in response.

“Last time I did it was anal, god that girl was fucking amazing. Shame she didn’t make it through the rest of the mission.” He pushed his tip into you without a warning. Listening to your pained cry as you hit and squirmed against him. Trying to push him away from your body. He put his weight on you to stop your protest, your cunt squeezed and tightened around his tip, tears filling your eyes.

Ghost hushed you softly, letting one of his hands rest beside your head as his other guided another inch into you, your warmth wrapped around him as you slowly stretched and tried to get used to his cock. Ghost jolted his hips forward and pushed deeper into your body.

“Fuck, there ya go, slag.” He cursed into the silence of your pants and desperate cries. His fingers rubbing your pearl and enjoying how slick you were. The masked male shoved the rest of himself into your tight cunt. Listening to your frantic and desperate cries, you were a virgin. This was tough on your body, he rested both his hands beside your head and roughly bucked his hips towards your own.

A groan of absolute pleasure left the male as you were left whimpering into his chest, he arched his back in the slightest and continued to pound into you, those hazy little eyes of your made his own mind go feral. Enjoying your soft and sweet noises you let out for him. Ghost sped up his hips and carefully fucked you. His cock twitched inside your cunt, soft pants and grunts leaving his rough lips as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. You quietly sniffled and tightened more around his cock.

Your stomach curled up in a weird way, a burning sensation filling it as your moans of desperation got louder and louder. Simon sped up more, letting his cock ram against your g spot until you orgasm’d on his cock. He wasn’t soon to follow, filling up your cunt and holding you on his cock. Making eye contact with you.

Fuck.

“Do you take the pill?” He spoke out into the heat of the room, panting ever so slightly.

You shook your head, why would you? You weren’t sexually active. Simon flopped down beside you, taking off one of his gloves and leaning you against him. Rubbing your cunt as he thought.

“Might want to now. I don’t want a kid to take care of.”

.

Okay but sequel where you do have his kid? Keep it hidden bc he’s a fucking maniac. Lmk in anon or comments<3

[sugar-grigri]

Comedy in CSM is the most important thing to analyze

I accept that the last arc can be read as comic, but you have to push the analysis further; every situation, every comic spring, pursues a theme: identity.

While it had been raised, questioned, it's in this arc that Fujimoto announces that this time we're in the dissection phase.

Denji is accompanied by characters of different narrative rank to enable this operation: a former enemy (still current, but belonging to part 1), a current enemy (introduced in part 2), a potential lover, a guy who idolizes part of his identity, and someone a little more out of touch with everything that's going on.

Everything is there to talk about identity, from the fact that Asa's high-school girl outfit is an advantage for going unnoticed, to the fact that she's stumbling.

Because this way of portraying Asa isn't the right one, since she's a teenager who's always resisted fitting in at her high school.

The guillotine is not insignificant either. It's not to be analyzed as something innocuous - there were plenty of potential demons - but Fujimoto chose ultra-symbolism.

For the guillotine has been manipulated by men of all political persuasions, and is also the symbol of a France seeking to redefine itself.

Above all, it's a symbol of a changing world.

And the rules of the world into which the characters fit are changing.

Fami's struggle against death is one of the first cogs in this change.

Stripping the guards of their clothing is also a way of removing their authority through their uniforms.

The high school girls' uniforms, on the other hand, had the advantage of symbolizing innocence and candor, and of not drawing attention to themselves.

The guards' uniforms contained their authority, so undressing them is enough.

Finding Denji cut up also heralds what's to come, as all the characters help him to literally rebuild his life.

If Asa learns who Chainsaw Man is from Denji's severed head, it's also Fujimoto's way of punishing his main characters.

Asa had always conceived of Chainsaw Man as an evil symbol, a demon for whom she felt no respect or consideration.

So, presenting her with a severed head is always reminiscent of the guillotine: the guilty party's head, presented to the people.

Because Chainsaw Man, before being a hero, is a culprit.

Just as the greatest revolutionaries glorified by the early revolutionaries ended up on the guillotine.

Above all, Fujimoto punishes Denji, because Denji's dream, the only thing he had about his identity - the power to reveal himself - has been taken away from him.

Denji didn't present himself, he was presented as a hunted beast

If Yoru and Katana Man are trying to help Chainsaw Man, it's because without the bloody, invincible enemy that is Chainsaw Man, they lose their objective.

The way they both present themselves from the start is through a desire for revenge

If the beast that would allow them to savor this vengeance is not in state, then all falls away.

What you're witnessing is not a humorous transition arc, but a pause in the work's own narrative.

Because its main character no longer accepts pretending to be Chainsaw Man

So the work stops and starts again from the beginning

What does Denji want to eat?

And what could he have eaten already?

The most obvious response to a Denji who refuses to rebuild himself as the person he used to be, and to whom he no longer wishes to resemble, is to grant him what he desires, since what defines this life before is precisely the fact that he doesn't get what he wants, that he stagnates, and that everything is denied to him, even his own identity.

Sex is something Denji is banking on, basing all his hopes on, since what he's experiencing doesn't please him, so surely the answer must lie in what he hasn't experienced, right? His reasoning is as simple as that. If sex is the foundation of existence, then it also settles existential problems.

It's a disillusionment, an obsession for a teenager, who has been denied the status of child so much and is now obsessed with this """"passage to adulthood"""" because everything would make everything so much more coherent.

Sex is also an element of incessant blackmail, but one for which Denji is willing to put himself at risk because it's his only hope, yet another unknown physical sensation, yet another need to be satisfied.

Denji takes up this objective knowing full well that what he's missing once again is someone, a loved one, to protect. For the old Denji loves, tries to protect, is trapped in Chainsaw Man's infernal cycle of suffering. If he is to return to the way he was, then he must also learn to love again, and to love others.

But love isn't visible; Denji only expresses himself in terms of needs.

The need to be loved and the need to have sex are two different needs. Denji doesn't seek one through the other, he only grasps one.

This conclusion on sex sums up this arc a little, this pretext for making Denji out to be an idiotic character, obsessed with sex as a poorly-written character with subversive aims. It's not about falling into the pitfall of a puppy looking for love.

It's about a boy who has long since stopped accepting that he has to go on living, and who projects himself through his non-experience to find meaning in it.

Not having a mother is part of his non-experience.

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Funeral Swap

People chatted with each other around the various rooms at the funeral home, though I couldn't help but feel left out a bit. I was at the funeral of Clarence, my friend Brian's grandpa. I didn't know him too well, besides the occasional visit when I hung out with Brian. He convinced me to come, saying that funerals are a celebration of life, and I was in Clarence's life, even if it was just a bit. I couldn't argue with that, so I did it for him. Clarence would always do little magic tricks involving cards and whatnot, and he seemed like such a nice man. But still, the people surrounding me knew him alot longer, some their whole lives, so I felt like an awkward weirdo standing around while Brian talked to the rest of his family. 

After a while the ceremony started and I felt like even more of an outcast when people started crying. After what seemed like forever, it was finally over and Brian thanked me for coming. He said that they were doing the burial the next day, but I didn't have to come. I couldn't anyway, as I had to work.

As I walked out with Brian, I noticed a man sitting on the bench in the hallway outside. He was an old guy that had a pretty big gut and looked like he was missing a finger. I think I saw him a bit earlier but I wasn't sure. I couldn't help but feel his eyes burn into me as I moved by.

Just then I realized that I had forgotten my car keys on the table inside so I ran back into the main area to grab them. The whole place was empty so I quickly made my way into the other room where I found my keys, and back out. But I nearly had a heart attack when the man from before had snuck in while my back was turned. I didn't even hear the door open!

“Hello,” he said. Creepy.

“Uh hi,”

“Shame that Clarence is no longer with us.” I started to get uncomfortable so I slowly began walking away.

“Yeah it's sad.”

“How did you know him?”

“I uh. My friend's grandpa-”

“So you're not related to him?” He interrupted.

“No”

“Good” He then gave an evil grin. I had my hand on the doorknob when suddenly he reached his hand out and a bolt of purple lightning struck me in the face. I think I blacked out but I wasn't so sure.

“Sir. Sir. Sir!”

I woke up to the sound of a man's voice. When I opened my eyes, I realized he was the mortician who arranged Clarence’s funeral. The way he was looking at me, I could tell he was angry but was trying to hide it. I was sitting on a bench in the hallway. How did I end up here?

“Oh, what?” I said in confusion. What was even more confusing was the fact that my voice sounded so gravelly.

“Sir, there is another funeral starting soon. I'm going to have to ask you to leave,” he explained hastily.

“Ok sure.” There it was again! Why did my voice sound like it's dying?”

“Wonderful. Now please hurry up. I have a few more things to set up.” With that he quickly turned around and walked into another room.

The last thing I remembered was that old guy talking to me in the room. He hit me with lightning or something. That must've been a dream but why did I black out in the first place? I guess it didn't really matter. I started getting up, only to find doing so was a lot more difficult than normal. What’s worse was that I noticed I was wearing a completely different suit than I was before…and I gained a lot of weight! My belly was huge, so much that I noticed the buttons on my shirt were starting to give way. I looked at my hands. My fingers were huge! They were like sausages, only wrinklier. I also found that my right index finger was missing. Amputated. God what happened to me?! I searched around for a clue and found a piece of paper in my jacket pocket. It looked like a letter of some sort.

Dear Ron, sorry I had to do this to you but it is what it is. I'm sure you've noticed by now but you're not in your own body anymore. You're in the body of me…well at least the body I was in when I met you!

What? That old guy. Oh no. He's right! These are the clothes he was wearing when I saw him! I continued reading.

You see, Clarence isn't dead. But that body that was in the casket sure was. How is that possible you ask? Well it's simple really. I am Clarence. Like anyone my age, I craved youth. But unlike the others, I actually did something about it. With a simple spell, I swapped my body with someone else's. I desired a young, fit stud, but unfortunately the spell backfired and I ended up in that old guy you're in now. But fret not. The spell could be used one more time! When I first saw you, I knew you'd be my new target. I'm loving your body though, you're a hunk! Too bad for you though. You must've aged at least 40 years! Not to mention gained at least 200 pounds. Well good luck on your new life!

No way! I was stuck like this? I couldn't get up by my legs alone, so I had to use my arms to force myself off the bench. When I got up, I nearly fell right over as the weight of the new body made me lose my balance. I tried walking around like I used to, but found the gut kept hitting my arms so I had to stretch them out a bit further. My knees were killing me under all the weight, making the trek to the nearest bathroom a difficult one. I walked inside and sure enough, the mirror revealed that I was now in the body of an old man. I grazed my hands along the unrecognizable face, feeling the wrinkles that weren't there before. At first I was relieved that I still had hair despite the receding hairline, but then I touched the back of my head, revealing a large smooth bald patch.

I can't believe just like that, I was 40 years older. I glanced down at my pants, realizing that I needed to know what my dick looked like. Expecting the worst, I unzipped my pants to find I couldn't couldn't actually see it past my gut. But I reached my hand down there anyway to find I was incredibly hung! My new buddy started growing, even though I should've been turned off by a gross old man's body. But my dick didn't lie; it actually grew so far out that I could see the tip past my enormous belly. I quickly took my jacket off, and unbuttoned my shirt, to find a fleshy pair of man tits and the now revealed gut. I started jerking, and watched the tits and gut swing around like they were made of jello. I walked over to the mirror and stared at myself as I jerked some more. I came all over the bathroom mirror, and as I cleaned it off, I realized that I didn't know where this guy even lived. I reached into his jacket pocket to find a pair of keys and a wallet with an address on it. I guess this was my life now. At least I can jerk off with a huge dick anytime I want…

[scarletwinterxx]

got me confused, got me satisfied - jaehyun imagine

hellooooo. currently on my jaehyun brain rot era😶😶‍🌫️ this is the bit different from what i usually write... hope you like it😅

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

: a bit suggestive, fluff, whipped jaehyun

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2023 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"What do you give a man who has everything?"

"For Jaehyun? Damn girl, i don't know. What about a good dicking down" Joy says nonchanlantly like you're not having brunch at the moment.

"Sounds tempting" you mumble

"Your presence is a present enough, if he don't want that then I know a list of guys ready to take his place"

You chuckle at your friends words, "I like him though, I like his face, I like his hugs, I like that he likes me"

"You like all of him, it's not so bad too that his secret dream is to be a sugardaddy. Specifically yours"

"That doesn't make me a sugarbaby... does it?" you look over at her

"Girl, you are the definition of a sugarbaby, the lavish dates, the expensive gifts, out of town trips on his private yatch? what would you call that then?" Joy asks back

That got you quiet. Thinking about what you would call your relationship with Jaehyun.

You don't like being confused, it frustrates you. He frustrates you but there's no other man you would run to but him. No man can make you think like him. Here you are slowly losing your mind over finding a simple gift for him.

Smirking as an idea pop in your mind, "I think I got it" you mumble. Getting your bag to go the the mall and get what you need

"Where are you going?!" Joy shouts

"I'm going to make a man cry tonight, see you at the party" you shout back as you walk across the street, Joy just chuckles after you. Whatever it was you had planned, Jaehyun is definitely in for a surprise.

A few swipes of your card, and a couple of hours getting ready you finally make your way to the party. It was already packed by the time you got there, some faces you recognize but more you've never met before. Probably just here to have a good time.

You easily spot Joy amongst the crowd, happily belting out the song with a very drunk looking Jungwoo.

"You're hereeeee" she squeals when she spots you, pulling you by the arm and making you do a quick spin. Your little black dress and the cute matching black ribbon on your hair,

"You look hot babe! Is this Jaehyun's gift tonight?" she teases you, pulling playfully on the ribbon. She's not far off if you're being honest. Shrugging at her question teasingly, you excuse yourself to find the man of the hour.

He wasn't on the dance floor, in the main room or outside. You do find Yuta while you trying to find Jaehyun.

"Here for the birthday boy?" he asks, a beer in hand

"Yep, have you seen him?"

"He's been sulking all night, Joy and Jungwoo kept saying you weren't coming cause you were out on a date" he laughs

"They're evil, it's his birthday" you joke, laughing along with him.

"Go find your boyfriend before he finds you here, don't forget to use protection this house isn't baby proofed!" he shouts, earning a few glances but you pay no attention to them. Making your way back inside the house, you finally see the familiar tuff of dark hair, fair skin and those arms you loved having wrapped around you.

Confidently making your way over to him, he's still looking at the other side of the room where the door was. Like he was waiting for someone to walk through at any moment,

"Waiting for someone?" you ask, catching his attention

He turns his head so fast, you let out a giggle. At that moment Jaehyun didn't care if he looked like he cared too much. He didn't care if his friends were teasing him all night saying shit like you went out on a date and found someone better.

Who the fuck is better. He thought to himself earlier.

This arrangement he has with you is definitely a confusing one, but for you he'd ignore all the warning signs. Heck you could've been the biggest red flag and he'd still happily chase after you like a mad bull.

It's not like you're leading him on, he knows you like him. And he likes you. The two of you like the way you are right now, not exactly boyfriend and girlfriend but you do all the things that comes with being in a relationship. From the cute nicknames, to him driving you anywhere and everywhere, even having weekly movie nights in his room or yours (depends if all the guys are home). No man knows your body the way he does. And if he's completely honest, he would like to keep it that way.

In a way the two of you are lowkey, but nothing about the way you scream his name some nights says lowkey AT ALL.

You catch the way his face lights up, fighting the smile instead showing you a smirk. But you know him enough, he's happy you're here. You're happy you're here.

His eyes rakes over your body, head to toe. He tucks a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, "You look cute" he tells you, noting your wearing that damn ribbon he loves seeing on you. It makes you look innocent but he knows you well enough.

"Happy birthday" you tell him, throwing your arms around his neck to intertwine them. Dragging your nose along his jaw, kissing the shell of his ear knowing exactly what it'll do to him.

You smile when you pull back and see his ears turning red. A rather unimpressed look on his face, you want nothing but to kiss him but you hold back. For now.

"Thought you weren't going to make it" He tries to act nonchalant but his body was on autopilot. His arms are already around your waist, pulling you so close leaving no space between your bodies. If it was up to him, there's still too many places he's not close enough.

For example he wanted to just bury his face on your neck and mark you up for the world to see, let them wonder just who did that to you. He wanted to have your legs wrapped around him, like vice grips every time he pleases you.

"And you look like you're thinking about something else" you tease him, "I got you something" you add

"Told you, you didn't have to get me anything" he mumbles but you just shake your head at him

"Shhh, just this once let me buy you something. Tomorrow you can go back to living your dream of being my sugardaddy"

"Call me that again, I'm carrying you out of this kitchen and go upstairs" he tells you, leaning closer to you until your lips were centimeters away.

"Okay, daddy" you smirk, feeling his arms tighten around you before he lets you go. Confusion written across your face before you see him crouching down, feeling his hands behind your knees he throws you over his shoulder as gently as he could. One hand on your legs holding you while the other hand rest right were your dress stops.

"Hey! You guys! Come back here, we're doing shots" you hear Jungwoo scream but Jaehyun paid him no mind. It's like he's a man on a mission. Mission to ruin you.

He walks down the familiar hallway until he reaches the last door, punching in the code before walking inside. He doesn't let you down, again gently throwing you on his bed.

You laugh, like literally laugh out loud. Jaehyun watches you carefully, waiting for you to say something. He knows you know exactly how to rile him up.

"Now that I got you here, time for your present" you tell him, standing up to get a small paper bag on his table. You probably put it there before finding him downstairs earlier.

"Was this your masterplan?" he asks you

"Kinda, I have a few more lines to use but either way they will all end up with us locked here in your room" you giggle, how can you sound so angelic yet so devilish he will never understand.

"Here, even if you don't like it just pretend you do. For me" you tell him jokingly, taking the bag from you he opens it up to see a box. Inside it was a simple chain necklace. Anything from you is a prized possession to him.

That mug you made him on your second date? his favorite to have his coffee in the morning.

That tshirt you bought him because it had peaches all over it? his favorite shirt to wear at home.

That candle you bought for him to use in his room? still sitting on his bedside table, lighting it whenever you're over or when he misses you.

"Your style right?"

"You saw me looking at this when we went to the mall, was that why you told me not to buy it?" he asks, taking it out of the box to put it on. You watch happily as he finishes putting it on.

And god damn you were right, he looked good wearing it.

If taking gifts makes you this happy maybe, just maybe, he'll let you shop for him more. But in this relationship, he likes spending more on you. From dinners to quick coffee runs to shopping sprees, he's always the one to swipe his black card. He's so damn hot while doing it, you thought.

"Just imagined that hanging over my face, I had to buy it" He chuckles at your reasoning. You saying that so casually as if it was a very normal scenario.

"Is this a gift for me or for you?" he raises a brow at you, he does love the gift. He loves it even more now knowing why you bought it. He already know how this night will end up, making mental note to make that imagination of yours into reality.

"Well that's first part of your gift, close your eyes"

You wait for him to do so, guiding him to sit on his bed. He hears some rustling, tempted to take a peak but he knows you'll scold him.

After a few moment he feels your hands holding his arms, guiding him to stand again. "Keep them closed until I tell you to open okay, I'm serious Jae"

He chuckles when he hears the nickname, it always sounds so cute when it comes from you.

"Okay now open" you tell him.

And when he did, his jaw nearly dropped on the floor. Cute is not the word to describe you right now. Divine, heavenly maybe because he's about to take all his time to worship you.

He should've known there was a reason you wore that damn ribbon. He loved seeing you with it, he knows you know he loves it.

And now here you are, on his bed with nothing but that black silk ribbon in your hair. He will never look at it the same again, he might just end up with a boner everytime he sees you with it.

"You don't like your gift?" tilting your head to the side, hooking your foot around his leg to pull him closer.

"Goddamit, woman. Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he breathes out, leaning down so he's face to face with you. Your arms automatically going around him, he can feel you warmth against him.

Is it because he's still all dressed up that why the room just got hotter or because the girl of his dream and reality is lying naked underneath him?

The latter. Definitely the latter.

"Satisfied with your second gift?" you ask him, leaving a trail of kisses from him jaw down his neck then back up until your noses were touching.

"If you wanted this damn necklace hanging over you that much, all you had to do was ask" he teases you, you can feel his hand on your body. It feels like he's leaving a trail of fire with the way your body is burning.

"This is a bad idea, now every time I see you with that necklace I'm afraid I'm going to jump you" he chuckles, finally leaning further down to capture your lips with his. Getting lost in each others kisses, at first you tried to fight for some control but Jaehyun is never one to back down. Not when it comes to you.

That got you giving up, like you always do, letting him explore all there is to explore. It wasn't new to you or him, but his kisses still felt like a man chasing after air.

When the two of you broke apart, you can see already how swollen his lips are. And the two of you haven't even started yet.

"You know what's a worse idea? that ribbon. Now everytime I see you wearing that, this is exactly where you'll end up"

You chuckle, pulling him down for another heated kiss, "Then plan succeeded"

[getvalentined]

Friendly reminder that the only reason Genesis is the antagonist of Crisis Core is because Zack is with Shinra. Literally.

Once he's on the run, once Genesis knows that Zack can't help him, he literally brings Hollander to Gongaga for Zack to kill—he tells Zack what Hollander is planning under the guise of it being a joint effort, but once Hollander runs off, Genesis then tells Zack what he intends to do. He talks to him about Loveless and the Lifestream, he shoves a Banora White into his hands when Zack charges at him, and then he leaves. Hollander is left behind—in Zack's hometown, his own turf, so there's nowhere to run and nowhere to hide—allowing Zack to enact poetic justice at last by striking down Angeal's birth father with the very sword that the man who actually raised Angeal died to earn, the sword that honorless Gillian said represented all the honor the Hewleys had left.

And then, finally realizing what's actually going on, Zack sets out to to Banora to save Genesis from dying.

There's no point after Modeoheim that Genesis outright attacks Zack until he's cured at the Light of Doom; there, he calls Zack First Class SOLDIER even though he's not anymore, because Genesis isn't trying to strike down Zack, he's trying to reclaim the right to the only title he's ever had that felt worth anything, and he's trying to take the burden of that title from Zack.

If he wins, Genesis takes the guilt of killing both Angeal and Sephiroth—because he doesn't know Cloud's role, he doesn't know that Zack wasn't the one to strike Sephiroth down, he doesn't even know Cloud's name. Conversely, if he loses, then it's confirmation that Zack is the hero of the story, truly and completely, and that's all right too. If that's how the story ends, that's how it ends. (Minerva intervenes, pulls Genesis from the duel, and he never gets to see the ending. The final act, as in his beloved ancient poem, remains a mystery.)

Genesis is the main antagonist of Crisis Core, but he's never been the bad guy. The entirety of Final Fantasy VII has a single monolith of villainy, and that's always been—and will always be—Shinra. Shinra made the Reactors and dug up Jenova. Shinra made Genesis, Sephiroth, Angeal, and DeepGround. Shinra burned Kalm, Banora, and (partially) Nibelheim. Shinra used any corpse they found or made as research fodder. Shinra killed the last fullblooded Cetra and drove her only daughter to a place where the only way to save the people she loved was through her death. Shinra is the bad guy.

Zack is with Shinra for the majority of the game, and thus the story behaves accordingly. Shinra's enemies are Zack's enemies, because that's the side he's on. Shinra sees Avalanche as enemies, too, but no one ever refers to Barret or Elfe as "irredeemably evil" the way they do Genesis. Barret dresses up his quest for revenge in the guise of saving the planet, but all that matters to him is that anyone even remotely connected to the company suffers the way he's suffered. Elfe allowed Fuhito to experiment on people, to take the corpses of SOLDIER and make undead weapons out of them, violating the sanctity of their final rest and denying them entry to the Lifestream altogether.

"Genesis experimented on his men!" It was a desertion, not an abduction. People who become Copies when they aren't properly enhanced don't get the same enhanced abilities as a First and they degrade very quickly, we see that in Hollander and Lazard—meaning that every single Genesis Copy was one of those SOLDIER Seconds or Thirds that defected with Genesis of their own free will in Wutai after he grew a wing and the world turned upside-down. Genesis' men loved him and they went along willingly.

When Genesis locks himself up in the Light of Doom, his last hope for a cure, he has one last Copy in there with him. When Zack unlocks the gate, he's attacked by one last Copy, even though Genesis has been waiting for him, he's not antagonistic toward him anymore, he hasn't been for a long time.

Genesis took that last Copy, a man with a horrible disease who is definitely too far gone to save, and brought him along to the Light of Doom in the hopes that maybe, maybe things could be set right. When Zack unlocks the gate, that man throws himself at him to protect Genesis, because this is his last chance and Genesis' men love him.

When Zack fights Genesis' Weapon avatar and is attacked by incomplete and twisted ghosts of Genesis Copies, magical inhuman wisps that hold him back while Genesis heals—they're in the Lifestream then, the Light of Doom pulled them both in. Those Copies are literally the ghosts of Genesis' men, unable to diffuse into the Lifestream because of their Jenova infection, fighting to protect him from beyond the grave. Genesis' men love him. They want to save him. They went with him willingly.

"Genesis killed his parents!" The parents who lied to him his entire life in order to keep getting a paycheck from Shinra? The parents that funded his fanclub as a form of marketing for a company that literally wouldn't exist without Genesis' world-changing contribution to food processing as a teenager? Those parents?

Genesis has a little shrine in the Banora Underground where he keeps all his awards and achievements—a little desk with a lantern in an unfinished stone tunnel. They survived the bombing of Banora because they weren't in the house; the chalkboard has sketches of what would clearly become the Banora brand logo, which was presumably made about a decade prior to the Nibelheim Incident, not long after Genesis figured out how to make Banora White juice shelf stable, not long before he left for Midgar to enlist.

Having all the proof of every good thing Genesis has ever done shoved into a tunnel under his hometown, hidden from the public, while his family raked in huge amounts of wealth based on those achievements, indicates quite clearly that Genesis' parents were the exact opposite of good and loving.

But he buried them anyway, didn't he?

Genesis may not be a particularly good person, but he's never been evil, he's never been the bad guy. Genesis was right—more than that, he was justified. His methods were not. He did terrible things. He hurt and killed a lot of people.

But he was only ever the enemy because Shinra said he was. Genesis doesn't need a redemption arc because he already had one, and Minerva herself said he could serve the planet forever to prove it.

[trancylovecraft]

Can I have the Yandere alphabet for Matthew Patel?

(SCOTT PILGRIM) YANDERE! MATTHEW PATEL x READER: ALPHABET

RECEIPT ✂- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

BARISTA'S NOTE: my guy looks like amon from aoex so of course i love this bastard >:)

FANDOM: Scott Pilgrim

Thank you for ordering!

Come again soon!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

DEFINETLY SHOWY. This man definetly likes showing you off and to do that he gives a lot of physical affection. When you go out he has to be touching you somewhere.

Hand-holding, Arm around your waist, Anywhere else. He just wants to prove that you are his. Apart from that, Acts of service is also pretty big as he enjoys proving his love to you.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Matthew isn't really big on gore, He just wants to get the job done when defeating his opponents! If it happens to be bloody, Then so be it. But if it's just one and done then that's completely fine with him too!

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Matthew would want your affection immediatley. I don't think he would mock you, Just be confounded as to why you aren't returning his love. Otherwise he would try to make you feel as comfortable as possible, Providing whatever you want within reason.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Affection, Physical touch. He won't listen if you say you don't want him to touch you as he see's it as his right since he considers you his prize.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Quite a lot, He believes you and him are "destined by the stars" to be together so why should he hide anything from you? Perhaps at the start he'd try to keep a tough guy persona, But Matthew would fold pretty quickly and give into his vulnerability.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Pretty confused and maybe a little hurt. You're his partner now! Why are you trying to fight him, You're soulmates so it hurts to know that his one and only is trying to harm him.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

A game? Maybe, A game in the sense that he's in it to win you similar to how he tried to win Ramona. But once he has you in his hold then it's instantly game over, He won, So you trying to escape would not be welcome in the slightest.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Probably the kidnapping. Matthew isn't a particularly violent yandere towards you so him kidnapping you would definetly be the worst of it all.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Matthew imagines you and him living together, Married. You'd be accepting of his rather obsessive tendencies and maybe you'd have a kid or two thrown in there, If not kids, Then you'll be getting a few dogs.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

We're talking about the man who joined a league of evil exes to get back his girlfriend from middle school (Which was about a week long by the way) so of course he's going to be jealous! It's his main feature!

Jealousy is literally this man's entire thing. Gets pissed at any woman or man who even dares to interact with you. He's cray cray!

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He softens up, Definetly. While he's definetly more angry/eccentric around other people, That just muddles down into eccentric. He's much more nicer, Almost acting like a body-guard of sorts

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He would be annoying flamboyant about it.

Like my man would be outside of your apartment with flowers, A stuffed animal, Chocolates, An entire band to play wedding music and you won't even know who he is.

Love letters under your door everyday, Love letters at work to tell you how pretty you looked getting your coffee. Love letters telling you to meet up with him and confused notes that ask why you didn't come.

It's creepy, To say the least.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

No, Not really. It's more of he's just softer around you and doesn't have a particular urge to prove his strength, He's more affectionate too though I suppose with all the physical touch.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Matthew probably wouldn't punish his darling, He wouldn't have the heart to! The worst he would ever do is isolate you in a room for a few hours, Though it was meant to be days, He just couldn't resist being near you again.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

At the start, None of them because he assumes that you love him and you can have a relationship as normal.

However at any sign of possible escape or defiance then this man will take away all of them in a paranoid frenzy. Locked in a room, No internet etc-etc

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Matthew is VERY patient. Though if you continue with the "I don't love you" schtick for a good few months then I can see him loosing his cool and starting to yell at you for a good long while. Other than that, I see nothing else.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you die then Matthew would be devastated and wrecked with guilt, It's possible he might even try to join you in a "'Till death do us part" fashion to try and get to you in the afterlife.

If you leave/escape then Matthew will never stop searching. You are his one and only, Even when he's old and grey he will continue forever and ever if it means he gets to see you again.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No, Matthew would not usually feel guilty. Though there are times late at night where he does feel kind of guilty for kidnapping you, Though he quickly rationalises it by saying that it was suppose to happen, That you were suppose to be together!

So no, He would most likely not let you go.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Him being the weird lonely kid. You being nice to him would instantly bring out his desire for love and attention, He attaches onto you because no one else really did before.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He's really hurt by it, You should be loving him! Why are you crying? Do you not love him? Matthew just wants you to be comfortable with him and love him just like he does with you.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Nothing really other than the fact that he doesn't care for taking down opponents.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

His blind love for you, Deffos. Take advantage of it at the start, Get in your car, Drive to mexico and change your name and you will be free from the horror that is Matthew Patel.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Never, Not in a million years. Matthew would rather die before harming you, He's basically your body guard and views himself as your protector so him harming you would be failing that.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Matthew worships everything you touch, Taking them as keepsakes. You are basically a divine angel compared to him, So you are very much worthy of the love and praise he's willing to give you.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

A few years, Maybe even a decade of you not accepting his advances. Matthew is very patient but when he snaps.. It is BAD.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

No, It's not likely. If he did, Matthew would try anything to get you back to your old self.