#unless you agree in which case we can be dead serious. together <3< /div>
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klanced · 2 years ago
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you Must speak on what makes keith a barbie. for the people
1. comically large skill set
barbie MUST be highly skilled at an EXPANSIVE number of things. i am of course alluding to the sheer number of careers barbie has had (over 200!!!!). a barbie must be able to somehow solve every problem she encounters by drawing on her staggeringly large toolbox of Things and Stuff. and keith, to me, fits this bill better than lance.
the other day i was joking about how keith is the most guy of all time, and i stand by that. i think keith has worked a surprising number of jobs considering how young he is. i firmly believe keith has a weird amount of skills and trades under his belt, and with them, he can at least brute force his way through any problem he encounters.
i just think keith can do way more things than lance. BUT, and this is important, most of the things he can do are not life-savingly important. keith is not smarter than lance, he just knows things like how to do the heimlich maneuver on dogs, the best way to select a watermelon (organized by variety and season), how to ground an electric fence, etc.
2. simple zest for life
another defining characteristic of barbie is her simple zest for life. this is not to be confused with like........ idk, constant optimism and being an extrovert (although barbie is pretty optimistic). i just think barbie goes through life pretty confident in herself, and it helps her move through the world feeling very unbothered. it's about being satisfied and content.
i think keith operates in a similar way. like he does the things he does because he thinks it's the best way forward, and then he just does it. lance, meanwhile, is bogged down by a lot of anxiety about himself and his place in the world. keith also has a lot of anxiety about his identity, because of how much is completely unknown to him, but he's not afraid of the not knowing. (well, until the galra thing becomes a possibility, then he has a lot of feels about that.) but besides that, keith in the face of a self-crisis is just like "yeah ok whatever. can i go now? i have to go change the oil in my speeder." like he has shit to do, y'know? like who cares. his dog likes to go on walks at specific times in the day, he doesn't have time for this.
also can we be real for a second. if lance went as barbie for halloween he'd prepare like a million different reasons/justifications for why he's wearing this neon pink cowboy vest and bell bottoms. meanwhile keith would roll into the party dressed as cowgirl barbie purely because he saw the movie and liked the outfit enough to remember and wear it. no further thought.
3. serving cunt
look. i'm just going to be frank with you all: i think keith can, has, and will outserve lance any day of the week. like i'm sorry, but unless we all start getting real desperate with our fanon, that's just the plain truth.
you can put lance in a crop top all you want, but keith's p*ssy p*ps s*verely!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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ootahime · 3 years ago
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analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga >:) pt. 3
more and more paragraphs ahead.  BE PREPARED!
i’m also writing this at 3 am so please bear with the horrendous grammar and punctuation.
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chapter 63
i know he’s probably like this with everyone but i love how excited he is bragging about his students to her.  he’s like a child telling his mother about an amazing adventure he had with his friends, making sure he mentions every detail.  in the anime, their conversation lasted for 3:41 :3 backwards 341 is 143 which means i love you.  
1 letter = i
4 letters = love
3 letters = you
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chapter 63
i love her fit!  i also like how both of them like to wear baggy clothing that accentuates their collarbones `w` it’s like they’re matching in a way.  even if she did tell him to cut the crap, she still let him run his mouth to his content LOL i feel like if he didn’t compliment himself at the end, she would have said something different.  UGH HE LOOKS SO HAPPY CALLING HER
 ah, let me translate the conversation just in case anyone needs it.
utahime: you wanted to talk about the investigation, right?
gojo: well, got any idea who?
utahime: i have no idea.  no one seems suspicious.  what do we do now?  should we ask the students for help?
gojo: yeah, that’s fine.  i’m busy so asking the kids would be okay.  keep looking.  i’m counting on you.
I THINK THAT’S WHAT THEY’RE TRYING TO SAY.
OR it could mean that she’s asking if they should start investigating the students.  it would make sense either way because gojo says in the next panel that he doesn’t want to assume that the mole is a student, and in chapter 79, gojo sends the trio to utahime to help her.  
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chapter 63
these two love their students to death.  neither of them wanted to assume that the mole was a student.  in chapter 79, when utahime is talking to the trio about the mole, nobara points out to the group that the traitor must be from kyoto because utahime is the one who’s reaching out to the tokyo side.  utahime has a dismal look on her face, almost like she’s saying, “i didn’t want it to turn out this way -- for this to be true.”  after mechamaru says his farewells to miwa on the train, mai tries to talk about what he did to which utahime says, “it doesn’t matter, he’s dead, after all,” with a similar sunken expression.  i just love how her care for the students is one of the biggest aspects of her personality that’s been showcased so far.  it’s also cool how it ties together with gojo’s belief that no child’s youth should be taken away.  i truly think these two have the capacity to understand each other to a deep level, down to the core.  seeing as utahime is also a teacher, it’s safe to assume that she also wants to raise the next generation of sorcerers to be strong.  utahime and gojo’s similarities and contrasting elements are so interwined, i really wonder if it’s intentional.  like am i looking too much into this?  are utahime and gojo really meant to be this connected?  think about it.  similar motivations, care of the kids, contrasting palettes, the bickering, long history.  IT’S JUST TOO MUCH. 
also can we mention how their phone calls and meetings must be heavily planned out?  this means they’ve talked and interacted with each other A LOT behind the scenes.  she doesn’t answer his call with “what do you want?  don’t bother me on my day off.”  she knows exactly why he’s calling her and they even speak in code.  she probably meets up with him and tells him to call her on a specific day and at a specific time.  they must know each other’s schedules very well in order to execute this investigation in complete secrecy.  when he says, “we can never be too sure who is listening in around utahime” it implies that they find calling a risk, so in order to guarantee that there is no one around, they have to meet up in person.  see where i’m getting at?  they talk A LOTTT and most likely are aware of each other’s daily lives.  
the fact that gojo is her main source of stress when he’s literally a 3 hour train ride away from her is hilarious LMAOOOO.  you know what that means, right?  he must call and text her constantly about random things to annoy her.  
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chapter 65
ah yes, my favorite moment by far.  look at that smile on his face.  
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chapter 65
he loves saying her name.  he probably rushed over with the sole purpose of doing something like this to her LMAOOOO like i mean, mei was in there with her so technically they both needed to be helped but judging from his words and expression, he only wanted to help utahime.  notice how mei’s not there in the debris.  could she possibly have suspected gojo’s presence or an outside force?  or was she fast enough to avoid being in the debris?  either way, her lack of presence in this scene helps highlight the fact that this is a special interaction between utahime and gojo.  he refers to her in a very familiar sense.  the most formal way to address someone is by their last name followed by the honorific, -san.  in gojo’s case, he should be calling her iori-san if they weren’t acquainted.  he doesn’t even bother to call her utahime-senpai.  granted, gojo is not the most respectful and socially competent person out there because geto points this out to him.  he isn’t even aware that she finds him annoying because he views her bad attitude toward him as her just playing along with him.  he probably thinks she’s flirting back LOLOL
since he asks her “you cryin?” that definitely means that gojo witnessed her crying on one occasion or maybe multiple.  who knows, the old utahime could have been a very emotional person.  while this is happening, mei is close to gojo, she then asks him if he would console her if she were to cry in a flirtatious manner.  gojo dismisses her attempt at flirting with him and says she won’t cry because she’s strong.  now normally, you’re supposed to face the person you’re talking to, GOJO.  he KEEPS his eyes on her even when more people come to join the conversation.  
now, we can all agree that geto, mei, and shoko are better at picking up social cues than gojo.  they probably knew the vibe of the conversation and decided to play along with gojo’s antics.  
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chapter 65
WE were worried about you.
pay attention to the order of the characters that show up.  gojo makes his appearance first, then geto, followed by shoko.  based on utahime’s reaction to seeing shoko, it’s evident that these two share a close bond.  shouldn’t shoko be the one to arrive on the scene first?  she’s the closest to utahime and would therefore be more concerned about her condition, right?  i know shoko’s technique doesn’t really allow her to do anything other than treat the wounds of others, but if you heard your friend was missing, you would definitely rush to the scene.  
look at geto’s reaction when mei says, “you’re the one who’s picking on her, geto.  you don’t even know it.”  i think it’s mei who’s saying this because gojo calls geto “suguru”.  but anyway, mei is aware that they’re picking on her.  i don’t think she’s the type to legitimately bully someone for their strength.  her reaction to all of this is very playful and her “heh heh heh” is proof of that.  when geto shows up and swallows the curse before it gets to utahime, he says, “satoru.  it’s not nice to pick on the weak.”  by saying this, he pisses utahime off because he too, is joining in on gojo’s joke.  i believe he’s unaware that he’s making fun of utahime because his reaction is “gah!” with a sweatdrop.  he probably thought gojo was making fun of weak people in general.  
geto’s usually a gentleman seeing as it is canon that he is more popular with girls than gojo.  BUT WHO KNOWS...you gotta be a specific type of person to be best friends with gojo.  maybe he ain’t shit too...  okay, my point is that everyone is just playing along.  when shoko shows up, utahime is relieved to see her because shoko doesn’t tease her like this.  since utahime tells shoko to not become like those two, this implies that geto teases her as well (probably not as much as gojo).  we all know geto is really big on looking out for the weak so he probably wouldn’t have insulted her for real.  
verdict: utahime being weak is just a joke.  i’ve mentioned this so many times, sorry if it’s getting annoying and repetitive hehehehehe...
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chapter 65
these three aren’t irresponsible.  geto and gojo are a troublesome duo for sure, but they’re dependable.  seems unlike them to forget something so simple and essential to pretty much every mission.   
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chapter 65
here’s my headcanon.  they were hanging outside or in the car when their assistant manager got a call.  the assistant was informed that two days have elapsed since mei and utahime went on their mission (or last contacted someone).  
gojo: that’s weird.  mei’s with her so they should have finished exorcising the spirit sooner.
geto: you think something happened to them?  maybe it’s a strong special grade.
gojo: utahime probably dragged mei down with her.  poor mei-san~  
gojo gets up 
geto: where are you going?  
gojo: going to save utahime!  it’s fine i’ll put up a curtain!
manager: gojo wait!!!!!!!!!!!
geto sighs
shoko: that idiot’s always running off without us.
they pin the blame on gojo for saying that he’ll put up a curtain and leaving the assistant manager behind.  you know what this means?  he ran and the manager couldn’t catch up HEHE... why the rush, gojo?  were you actually concerned about her?  
tbh i don’t see gojo ever running to something unless it’s urgent.  the fact that he ran to save her says a lot.  
----
let me know if you have any thoughts or questions!  i forgot to add this but gojo had a more serious expression when he was explaining how they must’ve been trapped in a barrier that messes with time.  he then states, “we thought it was weird even though you’re here, mei.”  i know he was probably worried sick because if mei couldn’t be contacted then that means something must’ve happened to utahime too.  okay that’s it for now.  i’ll be bringing up this little detail i’ve noticed about utahime in the manga next :3
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aderiex · 4 years ago
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Aaron Hotchner x Reader (Jealousy)
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Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, oral, coarse language.
Summary: The team goes to DC for a case but Hotch can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. After an incident at a bar, he gets jealous and realizes he wants you. 
Everyone all sat on the plane to D.C. They were working a case of younger women abducted from clubs and bars. The Unsub was torturing and killing his victims. Washington PD said the abductions go back a few weeks, 8 bodies had just showed up, half buried in the ground. You sat next to Dr. Reid like you normally do; you two had become close when you had first joined the Bureau and you have become inseparable ever since. He was sitting with the file propped open in his lap and you were leaning over his shoulder to get a better look at the crime scene photos. “So, we have 8 dead women in 3 weeks. The coroner said they had all been dead about a week when they found the bodies.” JJ explained, “So he was keeping them for a while.” Morgan concluded.  Emily sighed and looked over to you, it was hard for the women to do cases like this knowing the victimology, they were within the killer’s preference. Reid put a supportive hand on your back and offered you a warm smile, you smiled back and tuned in to what Hotch was saying. He was talking about what our next moves were when you landed. “JJ and Reid, I need you in the precinct, looking over all the evidence, get our team somewhere to set up. Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi will interview the families of the victims.” You watched his hesitated eyes looking around the plane when they finally met yours, his gaze softened a bit. “Me and y/n are going to go have a look at the crime scene.” He finished. Everyone agreed and the pilot’s voice came over the speakers, telling the team they were coming in for landing.
As soon as you were on the ground, you were being transported into SUV’s and on your separate paths to do the assigned jobs. It was just you and Hotch in the car, he was driving, and you rode shotgun, with a map splayed out on your lap with all the last known locations of the girls and then the dumpsite. Hotch tried to make some small talk, but it was mostly silent for the duration of the car ride. You pulled up to the dumpsite to see state police around, police tape up to keep civilians out. You put on your rubber gloves, and stepped out of the car, joining up on Hotch’s side as you both approached the scene. The state police chief came up to you and shook both of your hands, introducing himself. He explained basic knowledge of the crimes, which you had already read about, but still listened intently to his words. You and Hotch walked over and inspected the dead bodes. Him checking their pockets and looking at how they were placed, you still looking through the files, trying to identify each girl.
After a few hours spent at the crime scene, you and Hotch decided to rejoin the rest of the team back at the precinct. The drive back less quiet, mostly just filled with work discussion and quick phone calls to Reid and Garcia, but still something. Back at the precinct, Reid and JJ had all the crime scene photos laid out on the big conference table, along with all the evidence. You and Hotch joined them at the table, Reid joining up on your side. Looking down, at the file in your hands and matching it with the last known location of the girls. “They were all last seen at a bar or club…” Morgan mused, “Hey babygirl,” He said, getting on the phone with Garcia. “I need a list of all the bars and clubs that are in a 10-mile radius of the dump site.” Garcia chuckled, “Already on it big boy, I’m sending them over to you right now.” The list popped up, about 7 bars and clubs. “2 of them closed due to renovations and aren’t due to open for the next month.” Garcia added, “Ok so that makes 5. We should split up and hit the bars tonight. Morgan, you take the one uptown on 5th. Reid, I want you and Prentiss in the one on Main. Rossi and JJ will take the one on the far side of town. Me and y/n will take the one on 22nd.” Hotch gave everyone roles, “That leaves one, the one on 33rd.” JJ brought up, Hotch nodded and turned to the state police chief, “I want you and a partner there tonight.” Hotch said, in a serious tone. The man nodded and everyone went to get changed into more casual clothing, as to not seem too suspicious to the unsub. You all were told to tuck your guns behind your waistband, and you kept your badge and cuffs on a belt loop you kept hidden underneath your shirt.
You and Hotch headed for the bar, this was the one time he wasn’t dressed formally, he wore a simple grey button up and jeans, he looked good. You both sat in the car, driving in the dark, the quiet was comforting. Hotch looked over to you multiple times during the drive, just quick glances, not long enough for you to make eye contact with him. You pulled up to the bar, it looked busy, the parking lot was full and there was a steady stream of people going in and out. Hotch looked over to you and sent you a small nod as you both got out of the car and walked in together. It was even busier inside, people were packed in, standing almost shoulder to shoulder. You and Hotch headed immediately to the bar, you found two open spots and sat down, the bartender walked up to you guys. “Busy night?” Hotch asked, the bartender nodded, exasperatedly. “It’s like this almost every night. Popular spot.” He laughed out, “So you probably don’t remember many of the people that come through here?” you asked, the bartender thought about it for a second, “Not really, unless its one of my regulars or they are quite memorable.” He shrugged. You pulled a picture out of your pocket of the girls, “Do any of these girls look familiar?” You asked, the bartender inspected the photos, he shook his head, “Sorry, like I said we have a lot of people that come through here.” You nodded, “What about a man? He would have been quite reserved, sat near the back, didn’t talk to anyone, seemed to just watch?” Hotch cut in, the bartender paused, “Yeah I think I know who you’re talking about, he comes here sometimes, orders a beer and sits in the back. He leaves pretty discreetly.” The man said, “Is he here tonight?” You asked, the man looked around, “Not yet, he normally shows up later in the night.” You nodded and turned to Hotch, “Guess we play the waiting game.” He said.
You and Hotch sat at a table in the back, just talking. Hotch had ordered a beer, as to blend in, you were taking sips of a virgin drink the bartender had recommended. A man approached your table and sat next to you without warning, you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Hey pretty lady.” He slurred, intoxicated. You forced a smile and looked to Hotch, who was sending the man a death stare. “Are you single?” he asked, paying no attention to Hotch. He didn’t even let you answer, “Let’s get out of here babe. I’ll show you a great time.” He shot you a dirty smile. You were getting visibly uncomfortable, “Get off of her.” Hotch spoke up, you both looked over to him and he was getting serious. “Hey man calm down, I’m just picking up your leftovers.” He snickered, Hotch was up in a second, grabbing the intoxicated man by his collar and pulling him out of the booth. “I wasn’t asking.” He practically spat at the man. The fear in the man’s eyes was prominent as Hotch let him go and he drunkenly stumbled away from our table. “Thank you.” You spoke up, giving Hotch a warm smile. Hotch returned the smile which made your face heat up and you averted your eyes.
The night was long but by the time the bar had closed, there was no sign of this man. You and Hotch packed up and left the bar, getting into his SUV and heading for the hotel. The drive home felt different, the silence wasn’t awkward, it was comfortable. You couldn’t help but steal glances over to him. You pulled into the parking lot of the hotel and Hotch helped you out of the car, “About what happened back there...” He trailed off, you smiled “Hey, don’t worry about it. I wanted to thank you for sticking up for me.” You smiled, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. You felt the heat rush to his face under your hand. You stayed there for a moment, staring into his eyes, watching them try to read you. His brow furrowed, his eyes scanning your face. You pulled away, breaking the trance “We should probably go… go to bed.” You laughed nervously, he said nothing but a brief nod and you both headed into the hotel. Checking into your respective rooms.
It was the next day, you and Hotch were both extremely tired and showed up to the precinct late because of the late closing time of the bar. Everyone watched you two walk in, JJ raised her eyebrows suggestively and you blushed slightly but shook your head, “It’s not what it looks like, the bar was open until 1am.” You said, yawning.
The day was very long, but you eventually caught up with the killer, he had made a mistake in covering his tracks and you had been able to find his tab at the bar. Garcia had tracked his card and given you all an address. The whole team pulled up to the man’s house, you hopped out of the SUV gun in hand, approaching the house with the rest of the team. Morgan kicked down the door and everyone surged into the house.
The next events went by in almost slow motion, you turned a corner, the first thing you heard was the shot. You didn’t know where it had come from until you felt a breathtaking force on your vest, knocking you back into the wall, Morgan was right behind you, putting a bullet through the man’s shoulder. You stumbled back and slid down the wall, clawing at your vest, trying to get it off. Hotch ran in and dropped to his knees in front of you, “Y/n! Y/n can you hear me?” He cried out, your ears were ringing but you nodded, and reached out to grab his hand. He practically tore your vest off, looking for any signs of bleeding, but the vest had done its job. He helped you up, his arm around your waist as you caught your breath before guiding you out of the house. Morgan was shoving the unsub into the cop car, as Hotch helped you to the SUV. “I’ll take y/n back to the hotel for some rest. I need you guys to go back and pack up things at the precinct.” Hotch said, everyone nodded.
You were breathing shallowly in the passenger seat as Hotch drove you both back to the hotel. He wouldn’t even let you walk in by yourself, instead he hoisted you up in his arms and carried you through the hotel to your room. He walked you over to your bed and gently laid you down, sitting down on the bed beside you. You drifted peacefully, grabbing out for his hand as you slept.
When you woke up Hotch was still there, holding your hand. He had laid down and was sleeping peacefully. You checked the clock; it was around 3 in the morning. You shifted slightly and you heard his wake up, stretching his arms above his head. “Y/n how are you feeling?” he asked, sitting up. You smiled “I’m feeling better, good as new.” He stood up and you stood with him. As you came to your feet, he was a lot closer than you had expected. You were centimeters apart. You felt his breath on your face, making you shiver. His eyes were scanning you again, looking for some kind of clue as to what you were thinking. “I was worried about you…” He said quietly. You smiled and reached up for his face again, he grabbed your hand and spun you around, walking you back into the wall. Your back was against the wall, he was pressing his body against you, keeping you still. Fear flashed through his eyes as he started to step away. “I-I’m so sorry-” you cut him off, pulling him back in by the collar and pressing your lips to his. He kissed back immediately. His lips were so soft, felt so right on yours. His hands immediately found your hips, pulling you even closer as your hands played with the hair on the back of his neck. He pulled away, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He admitted, “That guy at the bar…” he paused, you kissed him again to shut him up. “I know” You mumbled against his lips. His kisses got hungrier, his hands going over your body, as if he were memorizing all the curves of your hips. He squeezed at your waist, making you moan quietly. That drove him crazy, his grip immediately tightened, kissing you harder. You reached your hand down and rubbed him through his pants, causing him to groan against your lips. You smirked and felt him almost come undone in front of you. Your shirt was the first to go, he took your breast in his hand making you throw your head back in pleasure, giving him access to kiss at your neck. Biting and sucking at your neck leaving bright red and purple marks, you moaned lightly, your hands tangling in his hair. One hand going to your waistband, the other coming up to grab your throat. He scanned your eyes, making sure it was okay. You gave him a confirming look, he squeezed your throat and whispered in your ear. “That was dangerous y/n.” He said before pushing his fingers past your waistband, making you gasp. “Going in there alone like that?” he was still whispering in your ear as his finger circled your clit, making your grab his biceps. Moaning quietly, “You could have gotten hurt.” He growled, continuing with his fingers. You whimpered, not able to form any eligible words.
You were getting closer to your release, Hotch knew it too and pulled away. Leaving a lingering kiss on your lips before pulling his own shirt over his head. He was toned, strong, you couldn’t help but stare. Seeing him in this vulnerable state, this way, you forever wanted this image of him in your mind. He smiled at you and pulled you back in, “You should have stayed with me.” He said, his voice deep in your ear, making you shiver. His hand going right back into your pants, circling your entrance before pushing a finger inside of you. Your breath hitched, and you opened your mouth as if to let out a moan. “Ah ah. Quiet now.” He growled, you whimpered quietly but nodded. He went back to his fingers, slowly pushing one in and out, watching your face twist with pleasure. Soon you felt him add another one, he curled them inside of you and you felt the tip of his finger graze your pleasure point. You moaned out, he smiled, knowing he had found it and kept going, hitting it with every pump. You dropped your head to rest on his shoulder and bit down on your lip to try and stay quiet. “So wet for me already?” He groaned out, you nodded as best you could while trying to hold in the moans of pleasure. He pulled his fingers out and grabbed you up by your thighs, carrying you over to the bed, placing you down lightly and starting to unbutton your pants. He pulled them off your legs with ease, leaving you in nothing but your bra and underwear, his pants were next. He crawled on top of you in his boxers, you felt his bulge through his boxers rub against you, causing you to moan lightly in his ear. “Fuck Aaron.”
He started kissing down your stomach, all the way down to your thighs, you felt his breath on your inner thighs, causing you to arch you back. He circled your clit through your underwear, making you shudder. He pushed your underwear to the side and licked a flat line up your entrance. You couldn’t keep the moan in that time, it wasn’t that loud, but he heard it. Making him lick you again. You grabbed his hair as he went down on you, you threw your head back as your body was overwhelmed with pleasure. While he was still licking you, he stuck a finger in again. You tightened your grip on his hair and he kept going harder. You couldn’t keep the moans in anymore, grinding down on his fingers, chasing your release. “Not yet y/n.” He whispered. Pulling away. Before he could do anything else you flipped him over, so he was on his back. You trailed down his body, teasing your fingers around his waistband before pulling down his boxers. His member coming up and hitting against his stomach. He groaned at the sudden stimulation, you look his entire length in your mouth making him gasp and throw his head back on the pillow. You bobbed your head and swirled your tongue around him, making him groan and grab your hair. You could feel his tip hitting the back of your throat as you went, amazing moans escaping his lips.
Before he finished, he pulled your hair, letting his member fall out of your mouth. “On your back.” He growled, you obliged and laid down on the bed, you watched him slip your underwear off your legs and throw it behind him as you unhooked your bra and tossed it onto the floor. He leaned down, kissing you and his hands pleasuring you again before you felt his tip slowly push into you. Your nails dug into his skin as you winced. He stopped and looked down at you, you nodded and reached down to push his member farther into you. He groaned and hung his head in pleasure as he bottomed out in you, you moaned as his member hit your pleasure spot. He moved slowly, small thrusts until he was able to slide in and out easily. He held your leg up above his shoulder and continued to thrust. You felt the friction and pain dissipate as it was replaced with pleasure. His groans in your ear, turning you on even more. Your moans were heard all around the room. He leaned it, still going, “You feel so good.” He groaned, you whimpered and ran your nails up and down his back, leaving bright red scratch marks. He moaned at the feeling of this and went harder. He put one hand around your throat and used the other to pin your hands above your head. He was hitting your pleasure spot with every thrust, making you almost scream. You were getting close and Hotch was too, “I-I’m going to-” you didn’t even finish before you released on him, moaning loudly. He was groaning with the feeling of it before pulling out and finishing over your stomach, gasping as he rode out his release.
Later that day, you and Hotch sat on the plane back to Quantico, Reid and Emily were playing chess together. No one knows why she still tries, Reid has yet to lose since Gideon. JJ was finishing her report and Rossi was laying asleep. Hotch sat across form you, his professional face back on, looking over to you and shooting you a smile every once in a while. The flight back is always shorter than the flight out, Reid explained why is physically was, but it felt faster mentally too. As soon as the team landed, there were SUVs outside waiting to take you back to the bullpen. You, Hotch and Reid all sat in one SUV, Reid was forced into the back. The drive was silent other than Reid spouting random facts, you found yourself staring at Hotch while he drove for long periods of time before he would meet your gaze and break you out of the trance.
Everyone was sitting at their respective desks, filling out all the reports quietly. Hotch stepped out of his office, “Y/n. My office.” He said, a shiver went down your spine and you stood. Everyone’s eyes were on you as you walked up the steps and into Hotch’s office. As soon as you got into the office, you closed the door behind you, he closed the blinds and turns towards you “Lock it.” He said, your heart rate picked up and you nodded before turning around and locking the door behind you. You turned around and Hotch was immediately in front of you, grabbing your waist and pinning you against the door. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” He growled in your ear; your knees quivered. He didn’t waste time kissing you, pulling you closer to his body. Holding you up. You immediately reached down to rub him through his pants, but he stopped you “We’re going to have to be quiet.” He murmured. You nodded and he let our wrist go, letting you slip your hand into his pants and slowly stroke him, making him throw his head back and breathe heavily. “Desk, now.” He demanded, you giggled and sat on the edge of his desk. He walked over to you, taking off his blazer and undoing his tie. He came right up and stood between your legs, craning his head down to kiss you, stroking your hair and one hand on your thigh. He pushed you back lightly, letting you come to rest on your elbows, he unzipped his pants and pulled his boxers down enough to pull his hard member out. You bit your lip as he slid into you, his face showing pure pleasure as you contracted and moved around his member. He started slow, until the pain was gone again, the thrusts become easier, and he started going harder. You threw your head back, biting your lip hard as you avoid moaning. “Shhh, good girl.” Hotch praised you, that caused a slight whimper, but it wasn’t too loud. He gave you a warning glance and you nodded desperately. He grabbed his tie and shoved the fabric in your mouth. “Quiet babygirl.” He cooed. You bit down on the tie and let it muffle your moans.
He was getting close; you were coming up on your release as well. You sat up and grabbed his collar, “Cum in me.” You whimpered in his ear. He gave you a confirming look and you nodded. He nodded and as you released on his member, he let himself finish inside of you. You felt his hot release fill you up and you threw your head back. “F-Fuck.” You moaned out. He held you there as you both rode out your orgasm. As he stood back up, putting his clothes back on, kissing your forehead. You felt his warm release running down your leg as you stood, your legs shaking. He gave you his spare shirt to clean up with, “Clean yourself up love.” He said softly. You smiled and he pulled you in for a handful of light kisses. On your lips, your cheeks, and your forehead.
You walked out of the office, slightly stumbling down the stairs and sitting back down, across from Spencer. “What did he want?” He asked you. “Just a second opinion.” You answered, going back to your work as if nothing had happened. Spencer didn’t question it. But Morgan saw the messed-up hair and swollen lips. But he didn’t say any    thing.
Word count: 4k
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lokigodofaces · 4 years ago
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Okay people, time to talk about how Asgard makes no sense at all!
(I'm no astrophysicist or anything of the like, I just find all of that fascinating and therefore take the time to learn more about it. I can't go into the math or anything but I know the concepts of things).
Today we're talking about how gravity is so unbelievably inconsistent on Asgard and makes no sense!
Before we begin, let me define gravity. I know, you learned about it a million times in school, but there are things we forget about it. Gravity is a force that attracts objects with mass to each other. For example, the Earth has mass and therefore has a gravitational field pulling you to the core. You also have mass and have a gravitational field and are pulling the Earth towards you. But the Earth is much more massive than you, making your gravitational field basically negligible. Everything with mass has a gravitational field, and those interact with nearby objects. For example, there are gravitational interactions between you and the phone/computer/tablet you are reading this on.
The more mass something has, the stronger the gravitational field. That is why we stay on the surface, and why planets stay in orbit, and why black holes "suck" ("suck" is not a very good word to describe the process, but oh well) different objects in, and why galaxies hold together.
The center of gravity is created by two gravitational fields interacting. With you and the Earth, the center of gravity is almost exactly the exact center of the Earth. Not quite, but extremely close, because of how much more massive the Earth is. While objects with more similar mass have the center of gravity closer to the middle. For example, Charon, Pluto's moon, is about half the size or so of Pluto. The center of gravity between them is actually above the surface of Pluto. It's closer to Pluto than Charon, but their mass is so similar that they're actually both orbiting around a point in space.
Now that we have that out of the way, here we go under the cut because this is a massive post.
1) The planet's form makes absolutely no sense
Look at this!
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What even is this? Asgard is a disk with an iceberg-esque part at the bottom and some land mass on the top. Which is problematic.
For one, gravity causes things to become spherical. Things, such as yourself, with lower mass don't have the gravity to become a sphere. This is why asteroids and some moons can have funky shapes.
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Here are some asteroids. Ceres is the biggest asteroid and a dwarf planet, and it is almost spherical as you can see. The rest are a little funky. They don't have the mass, and therefore gravitational force, to be spherical.
Life evolves to live in the conditions it is in. We can't see ultraviolet light because our atmosphere blocks most of it. So why would we need that ability? Why would people that could see UV have a higher chance of surviving to reproduce? This is why we aren't ridiculously strong. We evolved to be able to work with what was needed. Which means we are suited for Earth's gravity. If it weren't for other factors like the suits, astronauts would be able to jump much higher on the moon because it is tiny compared to Earth, and our strength overcompensates.
If Asgard has low gravity, then it would make sense Asgardians would evolve for a low gravity environment. Which means they wouldn't become super strong. If anything, they could have serious spinal problems on Earth because of our gravity, assuming they didn't immediately collapse. And, um, that is not the case in Marvel. The opposite is true.
2) Inconsistent gravity is confusing
So, gravity is what keeps us on the ground, right? Well, that doesn't always seem to be the case on Asgard.
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Not to mention the water constantly spilling off (also not astronomy related but where is that water coming from? And why does that water just disappear?).
Even if Loki was about as far as he could be from the center of gravity while being on the planet, even if Asgard has extremely low gravity and they showed it to us, this would still make no sense. Gravity should be strong enough to keep him on the planet.
And if it wasn't? Should've not been strong enough everywhere else on the planet. No one should be able to stay on the planet. It shouldn't be strong enough to have an atmosphere.
While with its shape Asgard would have unequal gravity, it shouldn't be this unequal. And, if gravity were weak enough for Loki to fall off, it should've been weak enough that he would've floated off rather than fallen off. Same with Thor. And Odin. And Heimdall. And literally everyone else to ever be on the bifrost. No one should be able to stand on the bifrost, everyone should float off into orbit. But that clearly doesn't happen because Asgard's gravity makes no sense.
3) 2+ nearby wormholes
There are at least two nearby natural wormholes.
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We have a wormhole taking you from Asgard to Sanctuary and a wormhole taking you from Sakaar to Asgard. I am not including the bifrost, because while Selvig and Jane called it an Einstein-Rosen bridge (sciency way of saying wormhole), the bifrost is artificial, and not naturally occurring. Right now I am focusing on the naturally occurring wormholes. Also, we don't know if these are two way wormholes are blackhole whitehole pairs. Basically, the theory is that some wormholes could allow travel from both ends, kind of like the Nether Portal in Minecraft, and others are a one way ticket, with a blackhole on one end and whitehole (ejects mass instead of taking mass in) on the other. We've only seen these work one way, so they could be partially whiteholes.
So there are a few problems with all of this.
Blackholes distort light.
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The top image is from Hubble. Do you see the circular-ness the photo is focused on? That is from a blackhole distorting light. The second is an illustration and not from Hubble so it's less reliable, but this is a more noticeable example. Basically, light has particles called photons, and blackholes absorb mass.
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As you can see in the gif, stuff orbits around blackholes and slowly gets closer and closer to the event horizon. Once you get past the event horizon, there is no turning back. Light can't escape, which is why these are blackholes. Photons are distorted like this, which means that the light produced by nearby stars and reflected by nearby celestial objects is distorted, making them look off.
In other words, Asgard's light should be...interesting.
Another thing, Asgard should be orbiting around one of these blackholes to die eventually. Unless there's a bigger one, I would guess the Sakaarian wormhole if it were two way. If not, it'd orbit around the Sanctuary wormhole.
Having two next to each other would do crazy things to Asgard's gravity. The Sanctuary one would constantly be pulling Asgard towards it, and if the Sakaarian wasn't a whitehole, it would constantly be pulling Asgard and the Sanctuary wormhole towards it.
This is something I don't know as much about, but if the Sakaarian wormhole is a whitehole on Asgard's end, I would not be surprised if there were consequences. Lots of mass being ejected into the nearby space might have consequences, though this mass might be coming in subatomic forms and not be too harmful.
(Also Sakaar should've been torn apart by the wormhole leading to Asgard and possibly others. I'm just saying. This is an Asgard post but we gotta agree that Sakaar is also messed up).
Except that none of this is true apparently.
4) There is no way Loki should've survived.
When Loki fell into the wormhole he had two options: die a quick death or die a very quick death. Wormholes are awesome. Awesome in the biblical sense of the world. Which means they are utterly terrifying.
Quick Death: Loki should have been spaghettified (and also Asgard...and the Asgardians...but I'll let that slide since apparently Asgard has secret amazing gravity). Spaghettification happens as you get closer to a singularity and let me tell you, it is absolutely terrifying. It is my greatest irrational fear (irrational in that it will never happen to me). Basically the gravity of blackholes (and by extent wormholes) literally tears molecules apart. It starts with stretching the person/object out to make them long and thin, like spaghetti. A person would die during this first stage because our organs cannot handle this. And soon the body/object would fall apart on an atomic level.
Very Quick Death: Upon passing the event horizon (point of no return), Loki would go through a massive wall of fire, burning him to death and he would be spaghetiffied almost instantly.
So...yeah...how is he not dead?
5) Even if Loki could survive, he shouldn't have made it to Sanctuary
There are theories on how to make viable wormholes. I don't remember exactly how, but there are theories on how to allow someone to pass without being spaghetiffied or burnt to a crisp. But then there's the problem of it being impossible to reach the other side.
Basically the "pathway" between the two ends of a wormhole is infinitely small. In other words, Loki couldn't fit through it, and would therefore die. There are theories on how to counteract that problem, but the odds of a wormhole naturally forming like this are low. So, Loki should've died even if he got past the singularity on the way to Sanctuary.
6) Also there's the bifrost.
The bifrost is artificial. The problems about travelling through wormholes (spagettification, fire wall, infinitely small tunnel, etc) aren't there because Asgard built it as a way of travel. And since it was repaired by the Tesseract in between Avengers and Dark World, it might be a product of the Tesseract anyway.
With artificial devices explained by fictional science/technology/magic, I'm not as picky. It's science I don't understand because that's not science from this universe. But I do have questions about the bifrost. I don't fully understand how it could've destroyed Jotunheim. My thought was that it absorbed Jotunheim like a blackhole, but we don't see debris coming over to Asgard. How is it turned on and off? What consequences were there when it was destroyed? Is gravity all of the sudden strange when it turns on? I do like that it looks like people are pulled into the bifrost when it turns on, makes it more wormholey. But how did Hela knock Thor and Loki out of the bifrost?
I tend to forgive all of that because it's a fictional device. Just like how I forgive the gravity/blackhole bomb things the dark elves had. Those are clearly artificial and since we have theories on how those are possible I let it slide (though I find it interesting how the blackholes evaporate (that's the term for the death of a blackhole)). I actually headcanon the dark elves used gravitonium to create these devices. Gravitonium is an element introduced in Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. that has interesting gravitational abilities. It is 100% fictional, so I let a lot of it slide. But gravitonium is supposed to be a heavy element, meaning it wasn't created in the solar system, it was created by a supernova, so it has to exist elsewhere in the universe. Why not on Svartalfheim? But that's just me (there are actually lots of connections between TDW and AoS, specifically connections between Loki and AoS). But fictional devices are that: fictional. Whereas blackholes and wormholes are very real. Blackholes are confirmed to exist, and wormholes are theoretical with lots of evidence (Einstein created a list of formulas describing how the universe works, and wormholes work in these formulas. But that doesn't mean wormholes exist currently, have existed in the past, or ever will exist, we just know they're theoretically possible.). So I can be more picky about those.
Of course, I can watch these movies and still be entertained. I love these movies. But I'm a nerd that has to overanalyze everything and I specifically like space, and thus this post was born because Asgard makes no sense.
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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years ago
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Weak ~ S.R. (part 3)(final)
A/n: Kind fo struggled to find an ending to this that I liked, so I hope you guys liked it. Side note: I was inspired by “Easy” by Camila Cabello for this part :)
Word Count: 8600+
MASTERLIST
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We fall for that. Wake up, we fall again. We fall for that. Can't wait to fall again- One sip, bad for me; One hit, bad for me; One kiss, bad for me, but I give in so easily. And no thank you is how it should've gone, I should stay strong- But I'm weak, and what's wrong with that? 
It took almost an entire month before Y/n really came to terms with having actual feelings for Spencer. With a lot of help from Michael and some stern words from Hotch when she'd begun to give Spencer the cold shoulder, she'd finally sat down and really thought about it.
I mean, who wouldn't fall head over heels for Spencer Reid, am I right? He was a total dork and had the prettiest smile she'd ever seen. He also had a huge heart and when he looked at her from across the room with the look of some kicked puppy, she still couldn't help but notice how beautiful he was with even that look on his face. Not to mention how kind and considerate he was. He even tried to save people everyone else rightfully hated, because every life that kept living was a victory to him. He shut himself down and kept himself in check as not to annoy others. Y/n was the only one who willingly listened to him, and he'd been slipping recently because he didn't have her to talk to anymore. He was just a really great person... and also really, really attractive like fucking hell dial it back just a TAD for the sake of a single woman with a weak heart.
When she could finally think about it without freaking out because of her past, she approached him again. "Hey." Her voice was soft, heavy with guilt.
He was surprised when he looked up and saw her. He stood, then stepped back to try and play it off like he hadn't been incredibly eager. "H-hi." His eyebrows came together as if in the world's smallest cringe and Y/n couldn't help but smile at the adorable awkwardness.
"I, uh." Her smile wavered as she remembered why she was here. "I'm really sorry, Reid." He frowned deeply at her use of his last name so she gave in a little. "Spencer." His shoulders lifted a little. "I've kind of had a lot of thoughts up in this little noggin of mine and unfortunately my brain works slower than average so it took me some time to figure it out." She shook her head. "I'm sorry it's made it so weird between us. I hope we can still be friends?" That's not what she really wanted, but she knew that what she REALLY wanted would be forever out of her reach. Spencer would never return her feelings. She didn't deserve it. Maybe her feelings now were healthy, but back then... no. What she had said and done and thought all those years ago was inexcusable. She couldn't have a relationship like wanted to with him with a such a secret between them, and she would NEVER tell anyone about it. It was in the past, it didn't matter. Just like her real feelings for the boy wonder in front of her now.
"Of course." He seemed relieved by her words. "Did I... do something to upset you?"
She smiled. Of course he'd think it was his fault. "Never," she reassured. "I... upset myself." That was as close to the truth as she could get.
It only confused him more though. "Are you okay?"
"Please," she begged softly. "I- it won't happen again. Can we please just forget about it?" Her eyes were wide and earnest. "I promise none of us were in any danger. You just-" She sighed. She hated the thought that he might worry enough to go digging, because with his resources he might find out. "You remind me of someone in my past," she worded carefully. "Someone I hurt. And- he didn't know I hurt him, but I did. And sometimes when I look at you, I remember that version of myself and it's... difficult. But I've come to terms with it for real now, and accepted that I'm a different person now. It was years ago and I'm better, you know? So it's really happy news and nothing you need to worry about. I promise."
He seemed to calm down for real at my reassurance. "Okay," he promised. "But if you need anything-"
"I'll come to you first," Y/n declared. "Well." She got a coy smile on her face. "Second. I have an old friend who was there during the whole thing. Who helped me through it. So he might be a tad better at helping, but with his experience and your incredible mind, I'm absolutely sure that if anything comes up it won't even be an issue."
He looked a little sad. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you." He hesitated, so Y/n didn't say something in case he wanted to share something personal as she had. Now that she was sure that her old habits were long dead, she no longer felt worried about getting close to him. It was incredibly refreshing. As she'd thought, he did speak again, pulling out her thoughts so she could focus on him. "I feel like I should be able to do more for my friends. I'm trained to do this as a career, but when it comes to people I care about rather than some murderous psycho, I end up being pretty useless."
She's taken aback by his bluntness. "Are you serious?" He shrugged and she reached up to grab either side of his ace with both of her hands. He seemed surprised by the contact, but didn't pull away. He seemed even more shocked by the fact SHE hadn't pulled away from HIM. "Pen, you're like literally the smartest person I've ever met. Everyone considers you a genius, and you've earned that title time and time again- so much that it drives people crazy sometimes." They both chuckled. "Just because you're smart doesn't mean you're a mind reader though. Be nicer to yourself. Please. You deserve it."
He relaxed at her words and only then did he realize her thumb was grazing his jaw tenderly. She slowly removed her hands. He seemed like he wanted to stop her but he didn't, and she felt her stomach light on fire. "Thank you." The words were soft and warmed Y/n to her core.
Y/n shrugged. "Besides, 'The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.' You're gonna miss things you don't want to be there. I've been the type of person people ignore when I'm upset since I'm usually pretty upbeat and get over things quickly anyway."
Spencer seemed to glitch. "What did you say?"
A blush swallowed Y/n's face as she winced back in shame. "I don't mean to blame you, I just mean that it's okay, because I'm used to handling it on my own and-"
"No," he dismissed. "The thing about observing obvious things."
It was then that she became cautious. "It's a quote from a book I read a few years ago. One of the few things I made myself remember and internalize. It made me feel better about how I... got into some tricky situations, before I learned and taught myself better and stuff."
His expression brightened. "You've read The Narrative of John Smith?"
She tried not to think about how she'd read it because she'd watched him carry around the book for months. How it had rested on the dashboard of his car and it had made her curious since he blew through books so quickly and never held onto one for long. She tried not to think about how she had gotten it to feel closer to him, reading it slowly and writing down things that she thought were neat. How Michael used those exact words she'd cherished to help counsel her in a way that got through to her in the beginning when she was drowning in guilt. "Yeah," was all she said, even as so many more thoughts raced through her mind.
"That's so wild." He seemed to catch his breath. "I've been meaning to get a copy of my own. I keep borrowing it from the library and returning it too late. It's one of my favorite books."
"No way." She laughed, trying to make it sound casual. "I still have my copy, if you want it."
The idea of reading it again seemed to excite him, making Y/n relax. "I'd love to borrow it. I have to say, I can be a little... hard on books. I have a lot of love to give them."
The joke made her relax completely, her worries rolling off her shoulder. She was a new person, living a new life that was so much better than she'd ever dreamed. "You can actually have it," she told him. "Honestly, it's kind of a reminder of some things that I don't want to remember, and I haven't read it in a long time and probably won't ever again."
"Really?"
"Really," she promised enthusiastically.
He thought for a second then that glimmer in his eyes shone, just like it always did when he got an idea. "What if I read it to you? We could make new memories. Unless you don't like the book."
Y/n laughed. "It was a little hard for me to swallow, but with someone like you to help me if I ask some questions here and there..."
"Oh absolutely," he agreed.
"Then sure." He cheered and she laughed and then Hotch called their names because they had a new case. Both of them went into the meeting beaming.
-
"Did you bring it today?" It had been six whole cases where every day Spencer would ask her the same thing, and every time she had to disappoint him because she came to work very early in the morning and returned very late at night and she always forgot it.
Not today though.
Her parted, upturned lips gave her away and Spencer jerked in excitement. "First," she began, holding up a finger as she reached into her bag. "To make up for taking ages to finally get it to you." She extended a small bag of Sour Skittles. He seemed to do that physical stutter like he always did when he was so surprised by something it was like a human glitch, eyes on the Skittles like they were going to jump out and bite his hand. "Since it took me over two months to get it to you," she said quietly. Why did he look like she was holding out a dead dog rather than a bag of candy? Then she thought about how the very first gift she'd ever given him was this exact treat. She panicked for a second. Did he know that it was a stalker after all that had given him the gift? Did he expect it to be her? Had he stopped liking this candy because of her selfish recklessness all those years ago? Oh god. "I didn't know what you liked, but they're my favorite," she rushed awkwardly, pulling her hand away. "I' sorry I didn't mean to upset you."
He caught her wrist and she looked into his eyes, ready to see accusation and anger when she did. Instead, she saw guilt. Guilt? What did he have to be sorry for? "No, I love it. Very thoughtful. I'm so sorry, I just-" He swallowed. "I haven't liked them for a while. But," and he snatched them from her hand, pointing back to her bag. She slowly took out the book and he grabbed that too. "Like I said. Here's to new beginnings. New memories with things that were once ruined but didn't deserve it." Right there he opened the bag and popped a few in his mouth. His eyes watched her as he chewed and his body seemed to relax. He then rolled up the bag so none would spill. "Maybe after work today we can meet at my place and I can read to you and we can share them together?"
His place. "I... What about my place?" He made an odd expression and she returned a sheepish one. "I'm weird about other people's places." This was absolutely true. After she'd developed her obsession with Spencer, she got nervous being too intimate with other people, in case it shifted to them instead. "Until I'm super comfortable with them. It's kind of weird, I'm sorry."
"No, I get it." And he seemed to, though it was obvious he understood the feeling rather than the context. "Your place."
Y/n went to confirm, but then Hotch came out, the look on his face that meant they had a case. "As much as I'd hate to interrupt your date," he told Reid and Y/n - both who went beet red, making the rest of the team smirk - before holding up the case file. "We have a case. You guys can do it on the plane though, or in the hotel once we get there." At our surprise, he explained further. "We're headed to Alaska, and the storms are going to be very bad this time of year. There won't be much time to call each other, so Garcia will be coming with us as well. Because of the constantly bad weather, the electronics aren't very advanced so we'll need Y/n as well to help Garcia sift through footage and get information as much as possible. Getting information on this case might need more people talking than we have time for, so Y/n will be needed in quite a few places."
Suddenly Y/n was very excited.
She was going out into the field.
Boy, oh boy I love it when I fall for that. I'm weak, and what's wrong with that? Boy, oh boy I love ya when I fall for that. I'm weak- Go! But I'm weak, and what's wrong with that?
Y/n was relieved that after all the hard to swallow cases, the team was finally getting reprieve from a case that was unwinding pretty quickly. Not quickly enough. Never quickly enough, as two more women turned up dead before they had a suspect who seemed to have a third lined up for her grave the next day if they didn’t do something about it.
So, they did something about it. They were working with a team, who had split up to do different things. The woman cleaned the mess left from the torture, and the man finished off the victim in her grave before leaving her body there to be found later by police. Morgan and Prentiss were going after the man, and Spencer and Y/n were supposed to infiltrate the house and hack the computer for information on where the woman was keeping the victims, since it obviously wasn’t at home. Once they did, they’d send word to Hotch and Rossi and they’d take care of the rest.
It all went wrong pretty quickly.
First of all, Spencer hadn’t the book they’d been reading together on the dashboard. It shouldn’t have been a problem, since they’d reading it together every night to unwind before bed. To distract themselves so they could actually get some sleep. Or, Spencer had been reading it to Y/n. The memory was a good one, and had been getting increasingly better. Now that Y/n had come to terms with her feelings, she felt herself easily falling into a closeness with Spencer that left them growing very close. Physically even. They were very touchy and hovered around each other. Even with Spencer’s hesitance to touch people because of his germaphobia, or Y/n’s hesitance to share bits of herself that might reveal her past. The little goodness between them amidst all the bad things was a breath of fresh air for everyone. Not even Hotch had the heart to break them apart - especially when they both deserved to be happy, and why not together?
Even now they were smiling at each other, taking comfort in each other’s presence. Y/n was nervous to be on the field, wearing a bullet proof vest just in case even though no one should have been there. With the skills she’d picked up from Garcia even in the short time she’d had and Spencer’s never failing intelligence, it was going to be an easy in and out mission. No worry.
The book shattered everything.
Or, at least, what was inside of it.
It dropped on the ground of the car and Spencer reached inside to grab it really fast and put it back on the dash. As he did so, something fell out of the later pages much further into the book. Further than where they’d gotten with Y/n’s constant questions and wanting to understand. Something that Spencer had though adorable then, but was now tainted by the thing he held in his hand.
When he didn’t move, Y/n moved over to him. “Pen? What’s wrong?” She’d begun to use the name naturally instead of his title or even first name like everyone else. Usually it made him smile, but now it made him flinch. She reached out for him and he jerked away. “Spencer?” It wasn’t how she’d referred to him in a while. It seemed to upset him even more.
The thin thing spun around in Spencer’s thin fingers so that Y/n could see the other side. When she did, her heart stopped dead in her chest. “What’s this?” Spencer demanded.
In that moment, Y/n was that same scared girl she’d been when Spencer had walked into her precinct with his team for the very first time and all she could think about was how much she didn’t want her past to come back and eat her alive and ruin her life. Because now, staring at her, was Spencer. Or, a picture of him. An extremely old picture of him. A picture that was now six years old, of a Spencer with slicked back hair and vests and glasses, looking at JJ with a huge smile on his face. It was one of the intimate photos Y/n had taken when-
“I burned all of those.” She took a step back, but the movement might as well have been a slap across Spencer’s face for how he flinched.
“You had more?” This time he looked less shocked and more angry.
Y/n tried to find some words. “Had,” she stressed, trying to come up with something. “I- not anymore, not for a long time.”
She could see the gears in his brain turning, but it didn’t seem to be much work to put the puzzle that he was trying to solve together. She thought of all the things that gave her away. The book that was one of his favorites that she just happened to have. The candy she had given him. The shame she’d been carrying with her so long, that had driven them apart even when they shared the same working space. The picture in his hand now that was from a time Y/n was not in his life. A time she should have no record of. And yet she did, and he was holding it out to her as proof.
“It was you?” His words sounded sharp and accusing. She had never heard Spencer y’all like that before.
She tried to explain. Explain how much she’d gotten better and how far she’d come since then. But the words got stuck in her throat. She deserved this. She couldn’t get that thought out of her head. She deserved this. “Spencer-“
“My name is Dr. Reid and I’m a federal agent so you better answer my fucking question.”
Her vision blurred with tears. “Yes,” she whispered. The word held so much pain and regret that Reid stepped away, looking to where there was no trace of her. It hit her then. Slipping the picture in the book as a bookmark all those years ago. It was the only time she’d ever taken a picture out of the box. She’d used it as inspiration to get through the book. Every time she set a goal, she’d save it with the picture and her prize was seeing his smile again. After she’d finished the book, she’d forgotten she’d left the picture in it.
WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HER?!
“You let me become your friend.”
A bubbling sob broke from the back of her throat. “I tried not to,” she begged him to understand. “I tried everything, but it was one thing after another and suddenly I have all these REAL feelings for you and-“ She hissed when his eyes shot back to her, hitting her like he’d hit her with his car. “Reid that was YEARS ago. I’m a totally different person now-“
“This isn’t years ago for me,” Reid snapped, his eyes wide as his mind began to reel.
Y/n looked away. She closed her eyes, feeling her heart drop into her toes. “We have to find out where the next victim is or she’s going to die. Can we talk about this later?”
“I can’t LOOK at you right now let alone with you.” He seemed panicked and Y/n flinched, recoiling. “Are you stalking everyone then?”
“I’m not stalking anyone,” Y/n defended weakly. “Stalked. Past tense.”
“Was it only me?” Spencer demanded.
The question seemed odd. “Yes?” That seemed to trouble him more. She couldn’t take it anymore though. She grabbed her pants to ground herself, turning away from him. “Let’s split up then. I’m not letting work drama cost this girl her life.” She steeled herself, wiped her tears, and then began moving inside from the back door, leaving the front door for Reid. “Just stay here.” He didn’t say anything, just stayed still and letting her go.
She slipped inside, making her way to the computer. She called Garcia as she’d been told to. “Hey G.” She frowned at the name. Did she have to leave the BAU now? If he couldn’t look at her or function, how could she stay? This might be her dream job but this was and had been his life for ages. She couldn’t take that away. No, she’d leave.
But that was later.
This was now.
She had this case to finish before anything else happened.
Garcia asked Y/n about the sniffling but Y/n brushed it off- no reason to get into why she’d been crying. And the case was more important now. Between hiding her own pain and trying to focus on hacking and finding this woman who was waiting to be saved, Y/n didn’t see the woman creep into the woman. The woman, who was one half of the unsub team, who was hefting a metal skillet in one hand and a knife in the other.
“Where’s Spencer?” Garcia asked suddenly. “He should be helping you with this.”
“Outside,” Y/n asked casually.
“What?” Garcia snapped.
Y/n didn’t get the chance to throw a response back though. A knife plunged into her gut and her mind went blank as pain erupted through her like she’d never experienced before. By some luck she knocked the skillet out of the woman’s hand, the chair falling back and the knife slipping out of her gut as she fell.
The unsub sat on Y/n’s chest, hefting the knife over her head, a grin on her face. The woman grabbed Y/n’s phone, leaving close to it. “Any last words?” She purred.
Garcia gasped. “DON’T-!”
The woman closed the phone. “Begging,” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “What a fucking waste of time.” Then she stabbed Y/n again, cutting off a scream that escaped her by some serious luck.
The thought that she was going to die here passed through Y/n’s mind as the knife left her again and she groaned, blinking as her vision began to swim. The pain was all consuming and suddenly she was fading out as the knife buried itself higher in her stomach for a third time. Only one thing left her lips. “I deserve this.”
The woman grinned even wider. “Do yourself a favor and pass out, Dearie. After you I’ll be done. That completes the cycle.”
Y/n didn’t know what the woman meant, but she gave in to the pain anyway. The last thing was her blood on the knife and the woman’s hand as she hefted it over her head to bring it down on Y/n a fourth time. The last thought she had was that she was going to die worse than alone. She was going to die at the hands of a psycho with a knife, in pain and on the floor. Her story would be told by Spencer, who didn’t understand her struggle or how far she had come. It was all over and she’d be remembered as the creepy bitch who’d stalked Spencer Reid years ago and then been unlucky enough to end up actually falling in love with him.
Splendid.
-
It was quiet in the room outside of where Y/b was still unconscious in the hospital bed. When Garcia had called Reid in a panic he had run inside, because stalker or not Y/n was part of his team and he wasn’t going to let her die just because he felt a little disturbed.
The truth was that he was actually torn in a lot of directions at the moment. Knowing that there had been two stalkers, or maybe one after the other, was an unsettling thought. If Y/n had just been watching Spencer, there was still a stalker out there watching all of them, and no way would they not be jealous of how Y/n had been successful in getting close, if they knew about it at all.
There was also the fact that Spencer had fallen really hard for Y/n. He had some very strong feelings for her, but low every memory and feeling seemed to be tainted by the image of Y/n sitting in her car outside his house, or looking over him as he slept. How long ago had she stopped? Why had she stopped? How far had she gotten with stalking him? How long had she been doing it before she stopped? He thought of the day he walked out to those Skittles on his car and his heart had completely stopped as all the stalker cases filled his head in one go, as they did now. So many more cases now though, and much more fear.
What did she know that he didn’t know she knew? That she’d learned from watching him without him knowing?
When he apprehended to woman unsub and called an ambulance for Y/n, they’d all ended up in the hospital as they too often did with cases that went just a little wrong. Hotch had wrung the story out of him and now everyone was here and had heard the full story, especially his explanation of why he let Y/n go in alone.
Eyes slowly moved to Spencer, but he couldn’t handle it. He left, making up some reason about wrapping up the case and telling the local police they’d succeeded and such to get back to the precinct and to a computer.
It took him an hour to find Michael Bills. He was Y/n’s therapist. Spencer had dug deep into Y/n to get answers to his questions. Answers he couldn’t wait to get when she woke up, because he needed them right now. She had done everything to keep Michael and her past buried, but with help from Garcia he’d been able to dig it all up.
He called Michael the second he found the connection. “This is Dr. Bills speaking, how can I-“
“Tell me what you know about Y/n,” Spencer demanded. “Please,” he added shortly as an afterthought. This man had known. He had KNOWN and he just, what, didn’t say anything? Let Y/n keep going? Let her work with Spencer?! He was in town, how did he not stop her, knowing what she did?
There was a soft sigh. “Is this Dr. Spencer Reid then?”
He didn’t seem surprised. It agitated Spencer. How much did this man know about him to be able to read the situation and put it all together so quickly? “Yes,” he finally answered.
Michael hesitated. “What do you want to know?”
“You’re just going to tell me?” Spencer asked, eyebrows knitting together. “What about Doctor-Patient confidentiality?”
A pause. “Y/n would want me to tell you. I’d rather it be me anyway. If she did it she’d be too hard on herself and no one else was there.”
“Too hard on herself?” Spencer snapped.
Another pause. “Dr. Reid, talking as a professional, Y/n was a very strange case. She came in tears, begging me to make sense of her mental state and help her get better. Told me first session that she was stalking an FBI agent and that she felt terrible for doing it but she was in too deep to stop herself. She cane to me for help, a total mess, and did every single thing I told her to do. Worked with me and was open and honest when something didn’t work. She worked two whole years to shake you from her mind and make a better life for herself. I was there when she burned the pictures. I was there when she threw away her camera and emptied her apartment of everything she could find that reminded her of you.”
“Not everything.” He was trying to find something she was still guilty of. It seemed it had been over ages ago. “She still had my favorite book. One of her pictures inside it.”
Michael hummed, considering that. “She probably missed it. Dismissed it later, as it was just a book. I... look, Dr. Reid, I can only speculate as far as that but I can tell you from first hand experience she did a 180. Coming from someone who wanted to turn her in because I didn’t want to get involved with a federal agent and his stalker, I tell you now with full confidence that Y/n is absolutely everything. Her job. Her friends. Her time. Her sanity and peace of mind. Her self respect. Coming to terms with being a creep was hard for her to do, and she still holds herself accountable for that.”
“Why did she become friends with me?” He had to know. He was desperate. He needed something to be angry at her about. How could he hold something that had ended SIX YEARS AGO over her head now? She’d saved Spencer’s life more times than she’d put it in danger. “And- and how far did she get? Does she know where I live? Did she come into my house?”
“No,” Michael rushed. “It- well this won’t be funny to you, but we used to joke that even when she was crazy she still had enough sense to draw a line. She... never followed you home. It was something she was proud of.” S long silence between the two men. “Honestly Dr. Reid, I’m going to tell you what I told her. Years ago she had an obsession with a boy she had a crush on. A fantasy where you were the center. But she broke that herself and cleaned herself up, allowing a space for you two to genuinely form a relationship. I think whatever she’s feeling now? The relationship you guys have? I think it’s genuine, and totally safe and real. I think she is as far from crazy as one can get. She pulled HERSELF away from stalking. She’d been done a year before we even started working together. Have you ever seen anyone do that?”
Spencer had to admit, he hadn’t. He also had to admit that... he had nothing to be mad at her about. I mean he did, but he was six years too late to lord this over her. She didn’t deserve to have all her hard work ignored and years erased. She didn’t deserve to have the lowest she’d ever been - the worst thing she’d ever done - shoved in her face and down her throat. She was kind and good and caring. She deserved someone who gave her the time of day and respected the shit she went through to make a real life for herself. Who recognized all she’d done to leave behind a destructive path and end up working for the FBI in the BAU, practicing to be an agent and save lives and stop people like who she’d almost become.
Spencer rubbed their bridge of his nose, sighing. “Thank you.”
He could hear the smile in Michael’s voice when the man spoke again. “My pleasure.”
Spencer ended the call, standing up from his desk. He had even lore to explain to his team, and when Y/n woke up... they had even more to talk about.
Boy oh boy I love it when I fall for that.
Y/n didn't know what people usually dreamed about when they went into a coma, but she really hoped it wasn't anything like this. She had no idea how long she'd been out, but in her little mind palace it seemed she'd been here for eons. She remembered a time before here but it was almost like a dream, or at best a story she read when she was a child. She HAD been a child after all, even though she couldn't remember it. All she could remember was here and now, sitting in the dark of nighttime in this field, fingers every so often wrapping around the grass to feel it before letting it go and going completely still before doing it again after a while. It was silent here. No wind or night animals. Just the moon and stars and the dark, tall blobs in the corners of her vision that she assumed were trees. Or some monster that was waiting to kill her. Either way she didn't have any fear for it. Monsters weren't real after all, right? She'd been sure of that once. Now she wasn't so sure though. Monsters didn't have horns and claws and fangs like she thought, but they were just as real. She saw one every time she looked in the mirror.
Is that why she was here? Was it a punishment for everything she'd done? Had it been so wrong that she had been trapped here in this eternal nighttime, unable to move as she looked at the stars and wondered when something would happen? Nothing did happen though. She just sat there in the dark, alone. At least the air wasn't too cold and the ground was comfortable.
Hold on that wasn't right. She wasn't a monster. She'd seen monsters. She'd seen the blood on their hands, and the hunger for more of it in their eyes. She had seen the pile of bodies and the tension in bodies that would never truly leave, even if they did survive. She'd seen people get murdered live and watched as people other than just the monster with its fingers around her neck got off on it like it was some kind of porn. She'd seen a monster have sex with its girlfriend in the places it killed other women. She'd seen people murder those they loved most because they thought it would help increase their luck. She'd seen fantasies so thick and twisted that it didn't even make sense to those with normal minds. Those like her who knew when a line had been crossed.
She wasn't like those people. She had been headed down that path, changing into one of them, but she had stopped herself. She'd never be able to cover all the scars from the healing it had taken to e herself again, but she was herself as much as she could be after flipping everything on its head and making it out for the better. Well, as herself as she could be without going back to old habits. Better than her original self, even.
She was a good person. She'd made mistakes, but she'd also made up for them god damnit. She'd sacrificed everything to make herself a person who made life better for others. She didn't deserve to be alone in a field, surrounded by maybe trees maybe monsters with no grasp on the past and therefore no acknowledgement of the future. She didn't deserve to sit in the dark with no good company, trying to make sense of the here-and-now foggy place her mind had been wedged.
It was that thought that pulled her out of it. Pulled away from the dark forest with the stars that began to disappear as shadowy figures stepped int he way of her seeing them. Pulled away from the sleep, jerking her awake, eyes shooting wide as her body spasmmed, hands wrapped tightly around her sheets. Tears were already streaming down her face and something was beeping sporadically. A burning pain ripped through her body and all she could see was the last thing that had been there before she'd been taken to that place that was nowhere and everywhere all at once. A hand gripped her arm and she screamed, her vision blurred by her tears.
"Y/n." That voice. She knew that voice. It cut through her panic, such a familiar sound with so much care and concern in it. A voice she never thought she'd hear again, let alone with those emotions in it. Her eyes focused as her gaze sought out the face she was so hoping to see. To her relief, her eyes locked with another pair, brown and large with concern and warm.
"Spencer?" She croaked out, leaning away in surprise.
The room grew still and quiet until Y/n's head cleared and slowly everything came back piece by piece. The room was full of who she guessed was now her ex-coworkers. People she saw once as family, but now knew probably hated her. No one could make eye contact with her except Spencer. They were too busy looking at him as he looked at her. Y/n felt her head fall as she looked at her lap in shame. She wanted to apologize. She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She wanted none of them to be there. Why didn't she just wake up alone?
When she went to pull her knees to her chest to hide her face, she winced, her hand shooting to her stomach. "Careful," a nearby doctor warned her. "You'll pull your stitches.
Then her mind cleared more, and she remembered the woman above her. The sick smile that twisted her face as the knife went in and out of Y/n again and again. Y/n closed her eyes, leaning back into bed and pulling the blanket over her head, groaning softly. Now that it seemed her freak out had passed, everyone was filing out of the room. Had they been outside waiting for her to wake up? Maybe they felt obligated since they had a relationship with her, even though they probably didn't want to anymore. Maybe they were just waiting to say goodbye and fire her.
Her mind began racing, filling with thoughts that made her chest hurt much more than her stomach did. When it went quiet outside and she thought she was alone, she began crying. She moved her hand against her mouth to muffle it, but allowed herself to let go and release the little sobs she'd been locking within. Her worst fear had come true. Her past mistakes had unearthed and were ruining her life once again. All the friendships she'd made. The job she so loved and was looking forward to becoming a bigger part in was being taken from her before she could even really start.
A hand skimmed her shoulder and she squeaked and jumped, moving her blanket down in surprise. To her horror, none other than Dr. Reid himself was sitting in the chair next to her bed, looking rather upset. He probably was listening to her self pity and loathing it. Loathing that she could feel bad for herself when he probably felt she deserved every injury she'd gotten. Did he hate her that much? Was everything so far ruined in such a short time? If she could go back in time she'd go back to the first day she saw him in that stupid coffee shop and strangle herself. How could she have been so stupid?
Self loathing like she'd not felt since she'd first realized how messed up she was began to rise up in her chest and consume her. Her chest restricted and her heart began to burn. Her throat closed and she found she couldn't breathe. "I-" She cut off, her eyebrows coming together as her face tensed as she struggled to breathe.
Spencer's concern grew. "Are you okay?"
Her hand rose to her chest, trying to massage it as if it was a tight muscle rather than a panic attack. She knew herself well enough to know that's what it was. She used to get these all the time, and still did occasionally. It started when she'd had a breakdown over her actions against Spencer and hadn't left her fully since. "I'm- fine," she managed, her face contorting further at the pain it caused her. "I-" She sucked in a breath and felt it get lodged in her throat.
"Panic attack," Spencer realized quietly.
"I'm-" But again it was cut off as she winced, shaking her head. She covered her face.
Spencer reached over, grabbing a pen off a nearby desk. It looked to be some sort of table, with food on top of it. It must have had wheels, because he pulled on it and it moved closer. He moved the food off, putting the desk in between them and setting the pen on top. "Can I show you something?" She looked over, feeling the urge to snap at him but holding it back because he didn't deserve that. Why didn't he just leave? "I can move this pen with my mind," he told her confidently. "Do you want to see?"
That caught her attention. "Uh-" But then she winced again.
He took that as a yes and stood up. He picked up the pen, holding it out for her to see. "Give me a second as I..." He rubbed it on his pants. "I have to charge it with static electricity. It makes the pen move better and connects it to my mind so I can move it better."
"So you move it with static electricity?" She asks quietly. Her words were a little breathless but came nonetheless.
He tried to hide a smile and failed. "No. I move it with my mind." She rolled her eyes and he chuckled. He placed it back on the table when he finished "charging" it and then pointed at it, sitting back down. "Now, watch this." She did just that, her eyes on the pen on the table and his finger as he pointed to it. His finger began to move forward and to her shock and wonder, the pen began to roll along with it. It went on and on until it fell off the end of the other side of the table, his hand dropping to catch it at the last second.
"Okay that was not some static electricity bullshit," Y/n accused, pointing her own finger but at him rather than at a pen on a table. "How did you do that?"
The grin on Spencer's face was contagious, pulling up Y/n's own lips. "A magician never reveals his secrets, you know that." She rolled her eyes and laughed and he relaxed. "You feel better?"
His words made her stop short. "You... Yeah." Her chest had loosened and her body had relaxed. There's wasn't any pain. She could breathe just fine. "How did you do that?"
"Distraction." That was an answer he could give her. "I took your focus away from what you were thinking and feeling and it allowed your body to move on more quickly."
Y/n was quiet for a few seconds. Long enough that the silence was noticeable and Spencer felt the urge to reach out and comfort Y/n when she looked away from him. "Why did you help me?"
He knew what the real questions behind that was and he sighed. "I talked to Michael." She looked up at him sharply. He was already looking back and their eyes locked. There was no judgement in his gaze and it surprised her. "I was... a little freaked out at first. The BAU has a stalker. One that's been following all of us and has been killing people to show that he knows our cases. Sending us gifts to let us know he's there. I thought you were..."
Y/n shook her head. "God no. I could never kill anyone, Spencer."
"I know." He offered a small smile. "Six years ago huh?"
A small groan came from Y/n. "I hate thinking about it." She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "And I don't expect you to forgive me, Spenc-" He cut off, shaking her head. "Dr. Reid. I don't expect you to trust me again either. And I especially don't expect you to work me considering you don't trust me, so I'm quitting."
Spencer jerked. "Y/n, this is your dream job. What you've always wanted."
She nodded. "I know that, but there are other things that people do. I don't expect people will hire me as an officer of any kind once this goes on my record, so I'll just have to do..." She shrugged, her face set as she glared at her hands. "Something else."
"You're an idiot." She looked over, confused, to see him smiling. "I know why you're doing this, and you're a total idiot." She didn't know what to say to that, so Spencer simply continued. "Did you know that a few years ago I was kidnapped during a case? I was drugged really badly. So much so that I got addicted while on it. Or maybe it was before when I found more of it once I was home and continued to use it. Either way, it got bad pretty fast. Hotch found out and told me that he would have to let me go if this continued. You can't give someone who's drugged a gun. I even... came to work once." He winced and Y/n felt her heart shatter in her chest. She knew what he was talking about. She remembered that span of time he seemed off. Distant and faded. She'd thought it had been the job getting to him. Maybe depression. Shed never imagined something like this. "If we were all judged by the worst things we'd ever done. Held accountable for mistakes we made years ago. If we were all judged based on the lowest points in our life, I wouldn't be here either." He reached forward, taking one of her hands between two of his. "I'd like you to stay. You add a very important piece to our team, and... I'd miss you. You're my friend, Y/n. No matter what you did over half a decade ago, YOU stopped it and got better. You didn't have to be stopped by someone else. You changed it made a better life for yourself and now we have a relationship that is very real and I don't have many of those." He looked at her and suddenly 'friendship' sounded different when he said it. "I'd like you to stay."
Well, how could she say no to that?
-
"So what's going on with you two?"
Y/n was half asleep, her head on Spencer's shoulder. After she'd gotten out of the hospital and returned to work her and Spencer had been inseparable. Now that the air was clear they could be honest with each other. They still weren't doing anything about the feelings they both seemed to have. Y/n was nervous to cross that line and Spencer wanted her to feel free to take things as slow as needed. He'd be lying if he didn't admit that he also needed time to come to terms with her past himself. They'd had a long talk about it, with Y/n telling him what she knew and how far she'd gone in stalking him. It had been a hard thing to hear, but most of the information was fuzzy for her to recall or outdated, so it didn't matter. Even more had been overlapped by what she'd learned naturally through their current friendship, so that helped. In return of his forgiveness, she'd gone on a rant of all the stupid things she did in high school - not something he'd asked her to do, but something she'd insisted on anyway. He'd been laughing so hard at the end of her most embarrassing high school moments that all had been forgiven and it didn't seem as weird anymore. Maybe he just had a higher tolerance than he should.
Now they were here, much closer and familiar with each other as well as much more open and honest. Y/n never pressured Spencer to tell her anything, sensing the line he'd silently drawn of her getting too much into his business. She chose to be quite open herself though. To the whole team, not just Spencer. The team thought there would have been more hesitance, but before Spencer knew about all of this and it had put a little chip into their relationships, he'd been pretty sure of much stronger feelings than friendship so it had progressed pretty quickly.
It didn't matter what either of them had done in the past. They were much more concerned with what they were doing it now, and making sure that they did as much of it as possible together.
Spencer chose to hum rather than shrug, in favor of not waking Y/n. "I like her. She likes me."
"And everything else?" It was Morgan asking. The man was always protective of Spencer, but Y/n had been his friend too and he felt the need to have her back as well. Of this whole thing went south it might end up REALLY ugly.
"It doesn't matter," Spencer decided. And then he let it go. And Y/n felt her own chest release, finally really setting all those old fears free. It just didn't matter anymore.
Morgan nodded though Y/n couldn't see that. "Cool."
And that was the end of it.
-
"I can't believe it's real," Y/n whispered softly. She had gone through school. She was graduated. She was a REAL member of the BAU now. Badge and gun and all. She thought of her younger self looking at that TV screen as she watched the news as a child, and how proud that little girl would be to see who she had grown up to be. Her eyes turned to her friends. "I did it."
Spencer moved forward first. "And now there's something I have to do." They hadn't been as close since Y/n had gone to school, but they still talked all they could and hung out around their schedules. The most they'd seen each other was between calls at work - but then it was mostly dead bodies talk and asking her to research people who might be killers, or at least connected to them. Now was one of the few times they'd been in person, and would be the first of many as she'd be following them on cases rather than staying behind with Garcia.
He took the pause of a moment to grab her face, pulling their lips together, and she let him. They'd made a deal to wait until she was graduated so that neither of them were distracted amidst all the very important things that required their attention more. Now they didn't have to wait anymore.
The rest of the team cheered and hooted and hollered but the kiss didn't last long. It wasn't a surprise, but it had been long awaited and even the chaste exchange was something to be celebrated.
"To the future?" Y/n offered quietly.
"To the future," Spencer agreed.
"As long as you guys aren't idiots on the field," Emily groaned. Her smile let them know she was joking though.
"No promises," Y/n responded easily, the two separating so she could sass her friends that had become family so quickly. "Especially to you." She smirked and the room erupted in laughter and acknowledgement of Y/n's jab at Emily.
Yeah, they were going to be just fine.
-
Tag List: @ajwantsapancake @urie-bowie-mercury
Spencer Readers: @realimbo
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ayamari-no-goshi · 4 years ago
Text
Verboten 3 | (T)
ff.net | AO3
Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)
Summary:   AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.
Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things
Parings: Danny/Sam
Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances
Chapter 3
“You heard me. They’re saying he’s dead,” Dash clarified as he watched Danny for his reaction. “And from what Kwan said, his body was really messed up.”
Danny rolled his eyes as Tucker stuttered in fear. Dash was known for trying to scare his ‘victims,’ so most likely he was just trying to get a rise out of them. “Yeah, yeah, and what’s your proof?” he asked as he sat down on his bed.
That caused the jock to back track. “Well… Kwan said…”
“Dash, I get we’re in the middle of the woods, and you’re in a prime position to tell ghost stories, but unless you have proof, this is not something you should joke about,” Danny scolded which drew a few surprised looks.
“What? It goes against your morals?”
The teen’s sneer was enough to cause uncharacteristic anger to flood through him. After taking a deep breath to calm himself, Danny glowered at him. “I’m only going to explain this once,” he warned as he tried to sound deadly serious, “I’ve seen the aftermath of what happens in a family who has someone go missing, especially when there’s no explanation as to what happened. It’s not pretty, and when it comes to people who get out here all sorts of terrible things can happen, so you shouldn’t be spreading rumors that could reach the family.”
“Wait, hold on. Fenton, you had someone in your family go missing?” one of the other jocks, Zach, asked. Danny was actually surprised he caught on to that. “Did they at least find them?”
“Luckily, they did, but that’s the reason my parents were so vocal against me going, and while I think they’re way too extreme about it, I, at least, understand their concerns.”
“But, no offense, your parents go on and on about weird creatures, ghosts, and other weird crap.”
“Well, yeah, that’s what happens when you try to rationalize what happened when nothing else makes sense. They were already involved in fringe metaphysics and stuff before that happened, so it was a logical jump for them to consider time slips and other dimensions with how bizarre everything was.”
A silence fell between them as they let Danny’s words sink in. It seemed that Zach wanted to say something else, but decided against it. Dash did eventually mumble something about how he’d drop it for now. That by itself was enough validation for Danny.
“Hey,” Tucker hesitantly spoke up after several minutes as all of them began to lay down, “do you think that kind of thing is real? I mean like falling into other dimensions and stuff.”
Danny didn’t answer him immediately. “To be honest with you, I really don’t know. I know there are a lot of legends regarding things like this, and my parents’ research at least suggests the concept of other dimensions is possible. I know the concept of wormholes are mathematically supported, and that some astronomers think wormholes could possibly bridge dimensions, but we don’t have the technology to get close to one or survive it. But random rips appearing in the woods? It sounds more like sci-fi horror movie stuff, but sometimes, as stupid as it sounds, that’s the only thing that makes sense.”
…..
“Maybe Kwan was right,” Tucker mused when he and Danny exited their cabin the next morning.
There were police officers present, and an ambulance with closed doors was on the far side of the camp. Danny briefly caught sight of an officer speaking to the driver of the ambulance until he noticed the markings on the ambulance were off. After a moment, he realized it belonged to the local Coroner. If that was the case, then there was a body retrieved.
“Well, I don’t know if it was that missing camper, but something definitely happened to someone,” Danny agreed as they made their way to the mess hall for breakfast.
The worst was confirmed as breakfast was finished. Rusty once again stood in front of them. His face was somehow bleaker than the previous day as he confirmed that the missing camper had been found deceased. After the murmurs of the teenagers quieted, he continued, “I know you’re supposed to be out here for fun, but unfortunately, this circumstance happened. We are going to do our best, after the police finish their investigation, to make sure you enjoy yourself here. However, the police have requested to interview each of you to see if anyone you may have seen or heard anything while you were out yesterday. They have also requested that no one go off by themselves while they were under investigation. Please go in groups of at least two. We rangers will also try to be with you when you’re outside of camp, but we may be stretched a little thin during the investigation.”
“I’m surprised they aren’t sending us home,” Tucker mentioned once Rusty was finished speaking and the roar of the students overtook the mess hall.
“I don’t think they can. I mean, the police need to talk to us, and since it’s an open investigation, they won’t want anyone to leave the area until they’ve determined there’s nothing else they can do here,” Sam pointed out as she checked her phone.
“Hey, are you able to get any service?” Danny asked her. “I couldn’t reach my parents yesterday.”
“It’s weird. Yesterday, I could, but I’m having trouble getting service this morning.”
“Now that you mention it, I noticed that too,” Tucker added as he brought out his PDA. “And that’s the thing, with how I modified this, that shouldn’t be the case. I wonder if there’s a disrupter somewhere nearby.”
“You mean a cell phone disrupter?”
He nodded as he leaned towards them. His voice lowered as he glanced around the room. “I’m not sure if anyone else noticed it. I think most of our classmates think it’s just because we’re in the woods, but that’s not really how it works anymore. This is something that should be brought up to the police.”
“I think you’re right,” Danny agreed as he checked his phone again. “And with everything happening, I think I won’t be able to use the ranger’s phone today either.”
….
About an hour after breakfast finished, the police began their interviews of the students. While Danny and his friends waited for their turn, they hung out near the front of the mess hall. They didn’t say much, but instead, they decided to watch the area.
A while later, a long black limousine approached from the only road fit for normal vehicles and came into the camp. A few minutes after it parked, a well-dressed man with silver hair exited. As one of the officers approached the man, Danny finally realized why he recognized him.
“Oh, that’s Vlad. I wonder why he’s here,” he mused as he watched. After a moment, he noticed his friends were gaping at him. “What’s wrong?”
“You know the Vladimir Masters?” Tucker nearly choked. “He’s one of the most influential billionaires in the world!”
“He is? I knew he had money, since he helps fund some of my parents’ experiments, but I didn’t realize it was that much. Anyways, apparently he and my parents went to college together. With how often he visited when we were younger, Jazz and I kind of view him as an uncle.”
“That’s actually pretty impressive. My parents know him due to some of the business galas they’ve attended,” Sam mentioned as a devious smirk crossed her face. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell them that Vlad is your parents’ benefactor. Mother dearest will have a conniption.”
Their conversation turned to what Danny knew of the man, and he answered the best he could. As he thought about it, he realized he didn’t know a lot of personal details about the man. Vlad tended to focus on the people around him and avoid talking about himself. He just figured Vlad was a very private person.
When Vlad finished speaking with the officer, he approached the trio. “Oh, Daniel! What a surprise! I never expected to run into you in a place like this with how protective Maddie is.” His tone was pleasant, but his exaggerated gestures almost made it seem like he was acting.
“We’re here on a school trip. I guess the PTA and teachers managed to convince her and Dad we’d be protected. But why are you here? No offense, but seeing you in the middle of the woods in a suit is weird,” Danny replied nonchalantly. He was used to Vlad’s over the top behavior.
“It’s unfortunate, really,” he explained as he glanced over his shoulder towards the officers. “The gentleman who they found dead works for one of my companies. I came out to see if the police officers required any assistance with resources, funds or otherwise, and offer my services.” As he turned back to face Danny, his eyes widened as he seemingly noticed Sam and Tucker for the first time. “Ah, you must be Daniel’s friends. Where are my manners? I’m Vladimir Masters, but you may call me Vlad.” He extended his hand towards them.
Tucker eagerly took his hand, but Sam was a little more hesitant. “I’m surprised that a big name like yourself personally looks in on their workers,” she told him.
A pleasant hum escaped the man. “I do try to keep tabs on those I employ. This particular incident, however, is extremely tragic and unusual, so I felt it was prudent to personally show my support for those investigating.”
“Yeah? I’ve also heard that killers like to inject themselves into investigations.”
“Sam!?”
“It’s quite alright, Daniel,” Vlad told him as he flashed a pleasant smile. “She does bring up a valid point, and it’s likely I will be asked a few more questions at a later time as a result. However, I can assure you that I was in my office a few states away when Mr. Aiden Jones was reported missing. Hmm, I also think I may have a word with your teacher. With a tragic event like this, it’s unwise to have you remain here when it is unclear if it is safe or not. Now, if you excuse me.”
As Vlad began to turn, Danny took a step closer as a thought crossed his mind. “Oh, Vlad, I hate to ask, but would you happen to have a phone I can use to call my parents? Mom left me a frantic message, but my phone’s not working, and I can’t use the Rangers’ phone right now…”
The man appraised him for a moment. “I don’t have a phone on me right now, but I do have one in my car. While I don’t think your teacher or the police would find it appropriate to let you in my car at the moment, I can at least give them a call for you.”
“Thank you!”
Vlad flashed him a large grin. “Anything for you, dear boy. But, I really must be off. Ta!” With that, he walked away, approached one of the nearby rangers, and struck up a conversation.
“So that’s Vlad Masters,” Tucker mentioned once he was certain the man was out of earshot. “I can’t figure out if I like him or not.”
“I don’t. It felt like everything he said and did was an act,” Sam told them as she crossed her arms. Her eyes never left the billionaire.
Danny just shrugged as he put his hands in his pockets. “He’s always been like that. I don’t really know if it’s because being involved in business, or because he lives alone.”
“He lives alone? No family or anything?”
“Nope,” he replied as he popped the ‘p’. “He’s never had anyone as long as I’ve known him. Both Dad and Mom like to ask him about whether or not he’s dating anyone whenever he’s stopped by, but he’s always answered that he’s too busy. I think Mom’s tried to hook him up with a few dates, but it never panned out.”
A frown crossed Tucker’s features as he glanced at the man. “You’d think he’d have people throwing themselves at him because of his wealth.”
“That might be why he isn’t seeing anyone. Anyways, any thoughts on what happened?”
“Not really,” Sam replied as she glanced towards some of the rangers and police. “If they thought it was just an accident, you’d think they’d come right out and tell us. I’m going to assume they aren’t sure, so they need to try to rule out a few things before they tell us anything.”
“Looks like we’ll have a chance to ask one of the officers. I guess it’s our turn to be interviewed,” Danny mentioned as one of the officers caught their attention and beckoned them.
A few minutes later, the officer took them into the mess hall. It was fairly routine. The officer, Malik, assured them they weren’t in any trouble or suspects. He just wanted to know if they had seen or heard anything while they were out on the trails the previous day. They explained that everything seemed normal, and they couldn’t recall seeing anything out of the norm. Tucker did mention that the three of them were having trouble with their cell phones.
Officer Malik made a strange expression at the new information, but did say anything regarding it. He just thanked them for their time, and sent them on their way.
Before he left the room, Danny spoke up, “Sir, do you know what happened? Should we be worried?”
He was silent for a few moments before replying. “We’re pretty sure he just had a bad accident, but, since we don’t have an official answer yet, we do have to investigate and take statements. Sorry this had to happen while you kids are on a trip.”
Danny thanked him and hurried out the door with his friends. “So, what do you think?” he asked as he checked behind him to make sure no one was paying attention to them as they walked behind one of the cabins.
“That’s pretty cut and dry, isn’t it?” Tucker asked as he scratched his head. “Accidents do happen.”
“Yeah, but the officer didn’t reassure us it was safe. Danny, you noticed it too?” When he nodded, Sam continued, “I think they’re trying to downplay what might have happened which worries me. And since our cell phones still aren’t working properly, it makes me more anxious. I guess Vlad was right. We shouldn’t be here right now.”
“Sam! Don’t say things like that!” The scared whine in Tucker’s voice almost made Danny laugh. “You’ll see, Dash and his jerk friends will use it to tell ghost stories tonight. I not going to be happy if I lose sleep.”
“And here I thought you liked scary stories.”
“Not when we’re smack dab in the middle of the beginning of a real life horror movie!”
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miss-smrxtiee · 4 years ago
Text
-Vacationing with Distance-
Ch.4 - frustration & ice cream.
Open Heart AU
Ethan x F!Mc (Eliana Valentine)
Ch. Summary: Ethan’s trip makes its second stop and Bryce and Eliana have their first checkup. Will the baby be healthy or will Eliana’s health take a turn for the worst?
Warnings: Pregnancy, illness.
A/N: I hope you all enjoy chapter 4 of VWD! I’m really sorry it took so long I’m working a lot on new fanfictions and this got pushed back but it’s here now and I hope you enjoy! -Sol
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-Masterlist- (other chapters are here!)
***
“Now Landing in San Francisco, California. Thank you for choosing Delta Airlines.” The flight attendant’s voice rings out through the plane as people start collecting their things. Ethan takes his personal belongings and lays them inside his carry-on before grabbing his phone to shoot a quick text.
Ethan: Hey E, we just landed for our second stop, I haven’t heard from you in a bit and I really miss your voice. I’m gonna call you when we get checked in ❤️
Ethan lets out a frustrated sigh, she had her read replies off so he had no way of knowing if she was actually seeing his messages.
Ethan and Naveen get up out of their seats and make their way down the cramped isle. Harper had an unexpected emergency at the hospital with one of her patients who needed a surgery from her as soon as possible, so she ultimately cut her time on the trip short.
Wish I could could just leave too...
“Ethan, hurry!” Ethan heard Naveen call from the exit of the plane. Ethan runs a hand through his hair before following Naveen out.
_____———_____——-______——-____
“I’m sorry to say but, you have gestational diabetes.”
“Oh nononono” Eliana paced around the room while Bryce tried to calm her down
“Diabetes?”
The doctor nods.
Meanwhile, Eliana’s mind is running a thousand miles a second...
I’m pregnant, I’m actually pregnant! I have to get medical attention now, great. Me and Ethan had never talked about kids... I don’t even know if he wants kids! WAIT! What if he doesn’t want to have kids!?! I’m so dead. If I call him he’s gonna know...
“Eliana? Hellooo! Earth to Dr. Valentine!”
She hangs her head in defeat.
“Gestational diabetes is a very common diabetes found in pregnant women.” The doctor explained.
“Will she be okay?” Bryce asked. He didn’t know a lot of terms for pregnant women, he was a surgeon after all.
“I assure you, it’s very treatable. You do need to keep your blood sugar in check which might be the hard part.”
“Don’t tell me...” Eliana started.
She gives a sad smile and nods.
Needle pricking...
“Here is your portable machine that detects the levels of your blood sugar, you need to do this 2 to 3 times a day, preferably 10 minutes or so after a meal, but that part is not one-hundred percent necessary.”
“Meds?”
The doctor nods and hands over a prescription paper. They go over the antibiotics for treatment and eventually leave the room to schedule another appointment. They give their thanks and goodbyes and find themselves driving in complete silence a few minutes later.
“Soooo...” Bryce begins. “Eliana, you need to tell Ethan. Everyday that goes by is hurting the baby, you need to stop stressing.”
“I know.” She sighs. “I want to hold off for a few more stops on his trip. He needs to do this, and I don’t want to pull him out of it. He would be able to do so much good with making hospital alliances and discovering the newest medical treatments. I don’t want to ruin that for him or the hospital.”
Bryce agreed it would be beneficial for the hospital but at the risk of Eliana going through this whole pregnancy alone without Ethan, worried him.
I mean she had him, but he wasn’t the father, Ethan was and he deserved to know he was having a child.
The rest of the car ride is silent. Bryce didn’t completely agree with her way of thinking about everything. But it’s not his place to tell Ethan something as big as a pregnancy. That should come from Eliana.
Suddenly, Eliana’s phone lights up. She quickly hides it and he furrows his brows at her.
“E, Don’t tell me you’re ignoring Ethan...”
She doesn’t respond and he lets out a sigh. This could be very bad for both of them. Bryce gives her a death stare and she slumps her shoulders.
“I don’t know what to say without blurting out I have basically pregnancy diabetes, let alone that I’m pregnant in the first place.” She looked so vulnerable and tired in that moment, Bryce knew he had to convince her to at least call him. Baby steps. He thought.
“Can you at least call him when you get back? He’s probably worried sick by now.” He pleased and she sighed.
“I’ll do it once, I don’t know how well I’ll do with keeping the baby from him. But I’ll try.” She replied shifting lanes onto the highway.
“Thank you.” He briefly said before shifting the radio channel and Eliana’s favorite song pops up and she smiled, bopping her head to the beat of Backyard Boy.
“-Backyard boyyy, lookin’ super fine in a corduroy! Drive around the block, we can go in a loop!” She smiles while lip syncing and Bryce joined her. She exited the highway and drives down before reaching the apartment complex Bryce stayed at. He turns back to her after grabbing his things.
“Hey, please call him when you get back...” he stared intently at her and she nodded before flashing him a smile and a small wave as he turns to leave. She lets out a sigh before turning out the parking lot and making her way down the partly busy street.
She tried to put together a conversation in her head that she could use when she contacted Ethan. He knew her to well and would practically see right through her in any situation where she was stressed, sad, or angry and the conversation wouldn’t be the easiest.
Oh yeah hey Babe, yeah I just wanted to let you know that I’m pregnant and stuff heh, oh and I’m almost 2 and a half months along and have a disease to go with it because I’m not taking care of myself.. He would probably be so mad at her. She did feel bad for not returning his calls or texts,
Ugh is hopeless. she thought before shifting lanes once again and rolling into their condo a moment later. She ran her fingers through her hair and walks inside grabbing her phone from her purse.
Here goes nothing... she hits the call button on Ethan’s contact. After a few rings he picks up
“Eliana! Where have you been?! I’ve been trying to call you for the longest time!” Ethan said through the speaker.
“Hey, I’m okay, things have been really busy with patients and cases at the hospital and I’ve just been sleeping a working mostly. I really miss you though and I’m sorry I haven’t talked.” That wasn’t a lie. she thought.
“I got seriously worried! I just about called Bryce to check on you!” He sounded frustrated and her own pregnancy hormones weren’t helping the situation.
“I said I’m sorry! I’m perfectly fine, jeez.” She retorted and he let out a annoyed sigh on the other side of the line.
“Just.. ugh, text me or something when you won’t be available to talk.” His voice was tired and angry.
“What’s up with you?” She arched a brow.
“What’s up with you!” He replied, clearly reaching his breaking point. “I tried calling you ten times Eliana! And God knows how many times I texted you! The least you can do is say goodnight or good morning to let me know you are ok!”
Eliana was starting to get mad.
“I said, I was busy. Sorry I can’t devote my very breathing second to you mr. grumpy pants.” She growled back and quickly hung up before plopping down on her couch, longingly staring at the freezer which contained her secret ice cream stash. She picked up her box and took out the instructions for her needle pricking, she already knew how to do it but she wanted to be sure...
for the baby.
Ethan
He lets out a frustrated sigh as the call abruptly ends. He walks over to the bed in his hotel room, laying down on his back staring up at the ceiling, he hated being away from her. He thought something was wrong but maybe she just was really busy and tired...
Two days later...
Eliana yawned as she stepped out of her car, grabbing her bag a second later. She was headed into her morning shift at Edenbrook. She knew she needed to go on maternity leave soon because of her high stress levels in relation to work, but she couldn’t let Ethan know yet. Eliana was still frustrated with Ethan for being so overprotective, she still loved him but long distance was never a strong suit.
Bryce walks up to her as soon as she steps inside.
“Did you talk?” He asked with his brow quirked.
“Good morning to you too.” She mocks back.
“I’m serious E.”
“...yes.”
“And? Elaborate.” he requested
A sigh escaped her and she just slumped, she knew she wasn’t going to win an argument against him so why try..
“We...we got in a fight, I didn’t tell him about... ya know.” She gestured to her stomach while she spoke and Bryce just shook his head.
“You gotta do this at some point, you’re going to end up hurting you and the baby. And I know I’ve said it a million times but that doesn’t make it any less true for you. You heard what the doctor said!”
She just shook her head and balled her fists.
“I’m not going to stop Ethan from flourishing while he’s away! This is an amazing opportunity for him! I know it was last minute for us and that I need to slow down I just... I just can’t do that to him Bryce, I love him to much to be the reason he’s held back.” She looked beat, depressed, stressed...
“Well I’m absolutely not helping unless you tell him Eliana!!” Bryce was fed up himself.
“Fine! Go then!” She exclaimed, grabbing the attention of a few nurses nearby who just started whispering softly to each other before Eliana shot them a look causing them to scram.
When she turned her attention back to Bryce, he was already walking away from her with annoyance radiating off of him.
“Great..” she sighed before walking away...
***
Thank you all for reading!
Tag squad- I’m honestly so confused on my tags rn so if you do not want to be tagged then just lmk! -Sol
I @choicesstan1 I @gryffindordaughterofathena I @rookie-ramsey I @kinkypot I @drariellevalentine I @theinvisibledreamergirl I @fluffy-marshmallow-heart I @rookieoh I @vampireblissblog I @itsjustamesshonestly I @kaavyaethanramsey I @ohchoices I @ramsey-lahela I @monsoonblooms12 I @aestheticartsx I @pixie88 I @mrs-raleighcarrera I @romewritingshop I @ezekielbhandarivalleros I @vampireblissblog I @herarmoredheart I
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writingwithadinosaur · 5 years ago
Text
“Under the Knife” - Part 3
“Under the Knife” - Part 3
My Masterlist - Here
Story Masterlist - Here
My Tag List - Here
Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader
Word Count: 1,700-ish
Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color
Warnings: Talk of Murder, Talk of Crime Scenes, Talk of Murder Victims, Cursing
Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.
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Tag List: @fruitloopzzz @theeactress @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @sj-thefan​ @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude​ @ntlmundy
Author’s Note: This is my first Hannibal piece and I am proud of it. There aren’t too many stories for Hannibal, so I figured I would add to the collection. This does take place in some happy medium where they are all alive and work together. Sort of a happier season 1 era.
This is beta-read by @theeactress​, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again! 
If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!
<3
- DreaSaurusREX
----------------
“As most of you know, this is (Y/N) Graham, she will be our profiler for this case.”
“Oh good. Another Graham.” Beverly commented over her clipboard, writing down something involving the case probably. Jack gave her a chastising glance and she held her hands up in defense.
“(Y/N) this is Beverly Katz, Brian Zeller, and Jimmy Price.” Jack introduced you very quickly to the science-ier part of the team very quickly before jumping right into work. “So, tell us what you got so far, (Y/N).”
You opened your small notebook and began summarizing your notes from last night’s reading.
“Alright. So far I’ve been able to see three patterns: the ways they were killed, the time frame, and the fact that all of the victims that were dismembered were doctors. The strongest thing I can think of is that this killer was wronged by doctors in some way. I’m not sure if it's a doctor in the general term or if there is some specific way that ties these three doctors, and our killer, together. That was something I was going to work on today. 
The way that the bodies are taken apart is very particular. From what I could tell from the photos in the files, all of the cuts seemed to be straight lines all the way through. Which means that this guy’s gotta have access not only to the tools that can do this sort of stuff, but also whatever drug he got in their system to make them lay still while he... worked. So I’m assuming the murder weapon is nothing with a jagged blade or saw-like teeth until we get to the bone. Do we have any reports on striation patterns or anything that could help us with what was used?”
“It’s like you said, the cuts were almost completely straight lines, even through to the bone. The only things we could think of were surgical tools.” Zeller spoke up. “The skin and muscles were cut similarly to how a surgeon would with a scalpel. But the bone is where it gets tricky. You can’t cut like this through bone with just a scalpel.”
“Unless you have plenty of time and you're very persistent.” Beverly joked; you were the only one that slightly exhaled a laugh through your nose at her quip.
“Alright, so the killer has a medical background.” Jack tossed into the air. You nodded.
“Possibly. But why would a doctor be going after other doctors?”
“Maybe they’re taking all his patients?” Beverly shot out. You just nodded and looked back at your notes to see where you left off.
“The uh.. The most concerning thing is the time frame. They were all killed two weeks part from each other. Dr. Everet was almost 6 weeks ago, Dr. Chaseten almost 4, and Dr. Loriet about 2.” 
“Which means we could have another dead doctor within the week.” Jack solemnly spoke as he realized the gravity of the situation. “Alright, you three keep looking over everything to see if we missed something. (Y/N), start working on possible correlations between the victims and the killer. Let’s get this son of a bitch.”
And that’s how the next two days went. Researching, thinking, and trying to get into a mindset that you weren’t totally sure of yet. 
You had checked in with Will like you promised and said that you were fine but you were going to be very busy for at least the next few days. Hannibal had called you after your first day and could hear the slight exhaustion in your voice. He asked you to have lunch with him tomorrow and you very quickly agreed.
But the next day, you spent more time than you thought flipping through the databases to try to find any correlation between Everet, Chasten, and Loriet. The three of them never worked in the same hospital, clinic, or even the same city. Their wives didn’t know each other. Their neighbors didn’t know each other. They didn’t have any sort of communication with each other. They were all different types of doctors. Everet and Loriet went to the same med school, but they graduated 3 years apart.
So what the fuck am I missing?
You kept looking back over the crime scene photos. You couldn’t understand why the doctors were mutilated and positioned so intricately, but the others were cast aside. The focus has to be on the doctors. They must have done something to ‘wrong’ the killer. So what the hell did all three of you do to make someone want to murder? 
Your train of thought was interrupted by a knock at your office door. You let out a slightly aggravated sigh.
“Jack, I told you I will let you know when I-- Oh! Hannibal! Hi!” You looked up from your computer screen to find Hannibal standing in the doorway with a bag in his hand. 
“Should I come back later?” 
“No! No. Come on in. I probably should take a break. I feel like I’m going in circles anyways.” You looked at your watch and saw it was almost 3:30 PM. The last time you looked at the clock, it was 10:30 AM. “And I missed our lunch meeting.” You put your head in your hands and groaned in annoyance with yourself. “I am so sorry, Hannibal. I--”
“No need for apologies, my dear. I figured Jack had put a lot on your plate, so I thought I would bring lunch to you.” Hannibal made his way into your office and shut the door behind him. 
“You really didn’t have to.”
“When was the last time you ate, (Y/N)?” Hannibal questioned you, looking you dead in the eye after he sat down in one of your office chairs. 
You weren’t entirely sure. You started to speak but then stopped yourself, really trying to remember when you ate last. I know I had ½ of my breakfast at 7:30 this morning. Did I have my granola bar? Does coffee count as a meal?
“The fact that you have to think about when your last meal was, is a bit concerning. But nonetheless, I am more than happy to remedy that. ” He smiled one of his rare but small smiles and began unpacking whatever culinary art he brought. You tried to condense some of your piles of papers and folders so you had enough room to put food down. 
Hannibal had brought a home-cooked meal for the two of you to enjoy. A ginger salad with fresh pan-seared scallops and even some infused water that he had marinating in his fridge overnight. This was so much better than the PB&J you had packed. 
As you began to dig in, Hannibal couldn’t help but look at some of the crime scene photos and your notes. 
“So what are we calling this killer?” 
“‘The Virginia Scalpel.’” You said with slight annoyance. “He has a medical background and is within a reasonable distance from all of the vics. Yet, we have no idea who he is.”
“Does the killer have to be a medical professional? Maybe they just have very steady hands.” 
“True. But there is almost no way that a regular guy could cut through muscle and bone that cleanly without surgical tools or the knowledge of how to use them. Not to mention the fact that he would have some serious explaining to do on how he got the succinylcholine or whatever paralyzer he plans to use next.” You rub your eyes gently, feeling the strain from the computer screen hitting you. Hannibal could feel the stress radiating off of you. 
“Do you want to talk about this case?”
“Not really. But I’m not sure what else to talk about. This has been my life for the last 3 days, the killer could strike again any day now, and I still don’t know why these three doctors were targeted or who will be next!” 
You started to fidget with your ring unconsciously and a bit aggressively, a sign to Hannibal that your anxiety was starting to catch up. Despite the physical signs that you needed a break, you continued to glance over an open file near you while you took another bite of food. He leaned forward in his seat a bit as he closed the file that you had been rereading for what he assumed to be at least the tenth time.  
“(Y/N), you need to breathe.” You just nodded and closed your eyes to try to help your deep breaths relax you faster. “How about we go for a walk? Get the blood flowing.”
“I would love to. But I feel like I can’t afford that break right now.” You shook your head slightly as you reached down for a stack of papers you had bundled and put on the floor earlier. You didn’t see him get up, but Hannibal was standing, adjusting his jacket before holding a hand out to you.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” You looked from his hand to his face before standing up, shrugging. A small walk around the building wouldn’t hurt, right?
Before your hand could land in his, your phone rang and you felt your heart sink, dreading what could be waiting for you on the other end of the line. Both you and Hannibal looked down at your phone and saw the caller ID: “Jack Crawford.” You took a deep inhale and hit the answer button.
“I really hope you’re calling just to bug me to work faster, Jack…” You tried your best to control your voice. You looked up and Hannibal was watching, trying to listen in and gauge how you were going to react.
“Afraid not. There’s another Scalpel vic. I’m texting you the address. Drop whatever you're doing and get down here.” Jack hung up before you could say anything, leaving you in a bit of shock. 
Dammit! What the hell am I missing?! Someone else is dead--Another doctor is dead because I don’t have any answers yet. How can--
“(Y/N)?” Hannibal’s hand on your arm broke your stream of internal chastising before it could get too bad, but you did unintentionally jump at the contact. He instantly raised his hands up and let you process for a moment. “There’s another one, isn’t there?”
You just nod. A second later, your phone flashed a message from Jack with an address. 
“Guess my ‘walk’ is going to be to a crime scene.” You try to joke despite feeling a tinge of guilt spreading through you. Hannibal tried to walk you to your car but you kindly denied him. You wanted to be alone as you prepared yourself for your first real crime scene. 
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sparrow-flies-south · 4 years ago
Text
I Can’t Decide (Whether You Should Live Or Die) 3
Title: I Can’t Decide (Whether You Should Live Or Die) Pairings: Romantic Thomceit Warnings: More murder attempts, stabbing, references to child abduction and abuse, references to torture, and a character who, while not actually suicidal, is prepared to sacrifice his life. Summary: Deceit is one of the best assassins in the business. So assassinating Thomas Sanders should not be difficult - except Thomas seems to have the amazing ability to happen to escape from death. And the longer it takes Deceit to kill Thomas, the less sure he is that he even wants to.
My Masterpost   Read on AO3  Part one  Part two  Fic tag
The agency has safe houses dotted across the country, but it’s only the new members who rely on them. Over time, assassins fain their own network of safe houses and bolt holes; some that belong to them, others that another agent will let them use.
Deceit can’t use any of the agency’s safe houses. He can’t use any belonging to his allies, either, though there were only ever a handful of them. He inherited some of his own safe houses from the Dragon, which leaves only a few that he can go to. Fortunately, one of these is in Florida.
The owner of the building the flat is in gets paid handsomely to not ask too many questions. The other residents believe Deceit is a rich man who spends most of his time travelling the world. There are a number of ways out of the building for if it does get discovered, and it’s located close to the main road out of town.
It’s long past midnight when Deceit arrives, meaning he has officially failed his mission. Officially abandoned his mission, which is worse. If he’d just failed, his reputation would be ruined, and he’d have to fight to repair it, but he’d still be welcomed back.
There’s only one case that he knows of where someone abandoned their mission, when it had turned out the target could pay better than the agency did. Deceit had tracked the agent down in Budapest.
“What the fuck would you know about anything?” she’d snarled at him, back pressed against the wall and bleeding from her side. “You’re brainwashed by the agency!”
He hadn’t taken offence to her insults. Everyone knows that it wasn’t exactly his choice to become what he is today. People wondered why the Dragon had shown up after a mission with a freshly orphaned child, why she’d sunk her time and resources into training him, but everyone agreed that it had worked.
It hadn’t been a violent process, the remaking of him, but a gentle one. A band wrapped around his old self, so that as he grew, that part of him died and rotted away. Before long, the only name he’d gone by had been the one the Dragon had given him.
He’d buried the traitor by the side of the road; one last sign of respect that she didn’t deserve. The greatest honour any assassin could have is to go unremembered.
Janus should be dead and gone like she is, but Deceit dug him up when he’d told Thomas his name, and now he’s Deceits own spectre.
He doesn’t even know why he told Thomas that. A name makes no difference when he won’t see Thomas again.
And he won’t see Thomas again. Going back is too risky, it’s the first place the agency will look for him. And Deceit doesn’t know what he’s doing, doesn’t even know what he is anymore, but he knows he doesn’t want the agency to find him, not yet.
A day passes, two, and Deceit stays in the safe house as much as possible. He destroyed his phone after fleeing Thomas’ house, so he buys a new one when he has to stock up on supplies. He could call Thomas – he has Thomas’ number memorised. Then he can tell Thomas that he isn’t going to kill him, and Thomas will know he doesn’t have to even think about Deceit anymore.
He doesn’t call.
And then, on the third day, someone calls him.
Deceit answers it solely out of curiosity. It isn’t hard to recognise the high pitched, nasally voice on the other end.
“Sup, Deedee,” the Duke says. “Heard you fucked up.”
Out of everyone in the agency, Remus is the closest thing Deceit has ever had to a partner. They’re both the best at their job, though they have very different methods, and Deceit is one of the few people who tolerates the Duke’s antics. So when two people are needed for a mission, they end up paired together. And when a job is outside one’s realm of expertise, the other gets called it.
Deceit has been asked to clean up after Remus many times.
“How did you find this number?” Deceit asks.
The Duke laughs. “Figure it out! Unless you’re getting too rusty. Heard you’ve been having trouble getting it up – and by ‘getting it up’ I mean killing people. So now I get to come out to play instead!”
“You’ve been given the Thomas job,” he realises. It’s not much of a surprise; the agency doesn’t leave their targets alive just because one of their members fails.
“Ooh, first name basis. What’d he do, suck your dick? Or did he turn out to have secret ninja training or something?”
“Remus-”
“Sorry, Dee, can’t talk, got a plane to catch. See you when I’m done with him!”
The Duke hangs up before Deceit can say anything. Deceit stares down at the phone. He’d known something like this would happen, he just hadn’t thought about it. He hadn’t wanted to think about it, though that’s hardly an excuse for getting sloppy.
The Duke is going to kill Thomas. That’s without question. He might kill Virgil, too, but that hardly matters, since Deceit isn’t the one doing it. And Thomas knows he’s going to die, has been given time to make peace with it. Deceit has granted him that kindness.
Remus is among the best. Even if Thomas and Virgil get lucky again, they won’t be able to stop him for good. Only an assassin would be able to do that.
Deceit groans and buries his face in his hands. It’s one thing to fail, it’s even one thing to desert. But it’s a completely different thing to turn traitor, and that’s what he’ll be if he tries to intervene. And then he’ll be killed horribly, and Thomas will die as well, and none of it will have mattered.
Is Thomas worth such a pointless, suicidal mission?
Deceit curses, then storms out of his apartment.
*
He finally finds Thomas and Virgil and the mall, between Hot Topic and Pandora. Virgil is on his phone, and Thomas is talking to him. Thomas looks up, spots Deceit coming towards them, and smiles, face relaxing with relief as he raises a hand to wave.
Before Deceit can get there, Virgil is in front of him, putting himself between Deceit and Thomas.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Virgil snarls. His hands are clenched into fists, but Deceit can still see that he’s shaking.
Clearly, Virgil must have the sense that Thomas is lacking; he’s hostile and suspicious, and Deceit won’t be able to change that any time soon. It would be good to see, if it wasn’t getting in Deceit’s way right now.
“We need to get out of here,” Deceit says to Thomas.
“Yeah, no,” Virgil snaps. “I’m not letting you take Thomas somewhere to murder him.”
“As opposed to murdering him right here?” Deceit asks. “Or when he gets home? You know, for people with assassins after you, you’re not taking many precautions.”
“Deceit, buddy, you’re not really helping your case,” Thomas sighs. Some sense of urgency must show on Deceit’s face, though, because Thomas goes serious and asks, “What’s wrong?”
“You’re in danger,” Deceit says. “Quite possibly very immediate danger.”
“Pretty sure the danger is standing right in front of us,” Virgil mutters.
“The danger is that you’re standing here talking when you should be moving,” Deceit hisses. “Or did you actually think ignoring the problem would make it go away?”
“Okay.” Thomas pushes between them. “Deceit, I am very confused. Could you please just explains what’s going on? And where have you been?”
Deceit forces him to take a slow breath in and out. Is helping people always like this? It’s exhausting.
“I’m not the only assassin out there,” Deceit explains. “The Duke is looking for you, and believe me, you do not want him to find you. So we need to leave now.”
Thomas goes pale. Virgil tenses up.
“No fucking way,” Virgil says, at the same time as Thomas says, “Okay, let’s go.”
Virgil stares at Thomas incredulously. Deceit feels the same way, but he’s not about to question it now that things are finally doing his way. Virgil has no such qualms.
“What the fuck?” he snaps. “You’re seriously trusting him right now? His name is Deceit.”
Thomas shrugs sheepishly. “He hasn’t killed me yet.”
“That cannot be where the bar is.”
“If you’re quite done,” Deceit says, and Virgil turns all the venom in his gaze back to him. “We really should be going.”
Thomas nods, takes a step forward. “Virgil, I know you don’t trust him, but trust me. I’ll be fine, okay?”
Virgil shakes his head. “Fine,” he snaps, “But I’m coming with you.”
“No,” Thomas says immediately, and the intensity startles both Deciet and Virgil. “I’ve already put you in danger, I’m not putting you in any more.”
Deceit scans the mall. They really do not have time for this.
“Please,” Virgil says. “You’d be dead five times over by now if it wasn’t for me, Sanders. Someone has to watch your back.”
“Wonderful, we’re all going,” Deceit says. “Can we just get a move on?”
Thomas and Virgil seem to have a conversation with just their eyes, and then Thomas nods. “Okay,” he says. “You, uh, you do have somewhere to go, right?”
Deceit rolls his eyes, already leading the way out of the mall. He hears Thomas and Virgil hurry to keep up with him. “No, I barged in here without a plan,” he answers. “Honestly, Thomas, what do you take me for?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Thomas roll his eyes fondly, even as Virgil grumbles.
*
They don’t go far. Deceit takes them to an empty shop close to the mall, and ushers them upstairs, into what used to be an office room. Virgil hovers close to Thomas the whole time. Deceit leaves them there, and goes downstairs to check the perimeter.
There are a lot of places the Duke could enter – the main door, a back door, the large windows at the front of the shop which are boarded up but not boarded up well, and the windows upstairs. It’ll have to do for now, though, as Deceit doesn’t want to risk taking Thomas and Virgil across town until he knows where Remus is.
So he gets to work making it as safe as he can; he blocks off the front door first, as that’s the most obvious point of entry, and then switches to the back. There’s not a lot he can actually use – he was able to move some furniture still left in the front to block off that door, and he finds some wood and nails, presumably from boarding up the windows.
He’s only just set to work when someone moves behind him. He spins, already pulling out a knife and preparing to throw it when he realises who it is; Thomas, hands raised and a sheepish smile on his face.
“Sorry,” Thomas says. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
“Be glad I’m too well trained to have thrown that,” Deceit answers, and Thomas�� lips quirk up even more into a smile, as if Deceit isn’t talking about killing him.
“If I’m not back upstairs in ten minutes, Virgil’s going to come down,” Thomas says, grimacing. “He made me say that.”
“Okay.” Virgil’s suspicions is equal parts refreshing and grating, though he’s not sure what Virgil thinks it can possibly accomplish.
“What happened?” Thomas blurts, and it’s clear he’s wanted to say this for a while. “You show up at my house having a panic attack, and then you just disappear. Where have you been?”
“A safe house,” Deceit answers.
“Yeah, that narrows it down,” Thomas says. “Janus-”
Deceit goes perfectly still when Thomas says that name, and Thomas trails off, looking uncertain.
“I just- are you okay?” Thomas finishes.
“Clearly,” Deceit says. He’s here, isn’t he?
“That’s not what I mean,” Thomas says. He places a hand on Deceit’s arm, and Deceit’s brain short circuits. “Look, if you- want to talk or something, I’m here, okay?”
Deceit stares at Thomas’ hand. His touch is gentle yet solid. “You won’t like what I have to talk about.”
Thomas shrugs. “I can deal with it.”
“I’m fine.”
Thomas doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push it.  Instead, he asks, “Who’s the Duke?”
“An assassin who works for the same people as me,” Deceit explains. “Since they aren’t happy with my progress, he’s been given the job.”
“And now he’s trying to kill me,” Thomas finishes, and Deceit nods.
Deceit gives Thomas a moment to process this before continuing, “The Duke is one of the best. Dealing with him will be difficult.”
“You said you work together. Is he your friend?”
An absurd thought. “I don’t have friends.”
“Except for me,” Thomas says.
That= Deceit doesn’t know what to say to that. It’s ridiculous – he and Thomas can’t be friends, even if Thomas is still touching him. He’s tried to kill Thomas multiple times, and Thomas kidnapped him (technically), and now Thomas is worried about Deceit’s mental state, and Deceit is risking his life to protect Thomas.
Deceit is about to explain all of this, when upstairs Virgil cries out, “Thomas!”
The panic in Virgil’s voice is clear, and the shout Is cut off at the end. Thomas takes off running first, but Deceit quickly overtakes him, so he is the first one to enter the room.
Virgil is still alive. The Duke stands behind him, one arm wrapped around Virgil’s neck, keeping him still. The other hand holds that ridiculous morning star that he likes so much. Somehow, Virgil manages to look both scared and pissed off all at once.
“Hi, Deede,” Remus says cheerfully. “Didn’t expect you to be such a sore loser. I got this job fair and square, you know.”
Deceit can tell the minute Thomas catches up, because Virgil’s eyes fly to someone in the doorway, and Thomas himself lets out a strangled noise. Deceit takes a smooth step back, so he’s standing next to Thomas.
“Funny,” Deceit says. “I didn’t expect you to get the wrong person.” He wraps his fingers around Thomas’ arm, and pulls him towards himself. Thomas stumbles as he moves, clearly not expecting Deceit to betray him.
Deceit pulls Thomas in front of him, and wraps one arm around Thomas’ chest. With their bodies pressed so close together, Deceit can feel Thomas’ breath speed up. Across the room, Virgil snarls and struggles, only to go still when Remus tightens his grip. Remus tilts his head, looking rather like a dog that just wandered in from the street.
“Why haven’t you killed him yet?” Remus asks, and Thomas’ breath stutters.
Deceit shrugs, watching for any sign of movement. “I’m having fun.”
“You fucking bastard,” Virgil snarls, kicking at Remus. Remus just holds onto him and whoops with laughter.
“Careful,” Remus says. “There’ll be time for you, too.”
Remus might very well kill Virgil here and now – the only reason he hasn’t is probably so he doesn’t get distracted.
“Why wait?” Deceit asks. “Consider him the consolation prize.”
Remus’ grin turns feral, which means he recognises the challenge. That ends up being the only warning Deceit gets before Remus in launching himself across the room, Virgil thrown to the side like a discarded doll.
Deceit flings himself and Thomas to the floor, dodging the swing of Remus’ mace. He leaves Thomas there and moves to meet Remus. He’s fast enough to grab Remus’ arm and twist it, forcing Remus to drop the mace.
Remus grabs Deceit’s wrist where he’s still holding Remus’ hand, and tries to flip him to the ground. Deceit is able to break free of the hold, and he aims a kick at Remus’ legs. It makes Remus stumble, and Deceit uses that to knock Remus to the ground, and pin him in place.
He can’t see Thomas or Virgil. He hopes this means that they’re smart enough to get the hell out of here while they still have a chance-
The knife slides into Deceit’s abdomen, and the surprise is enough for Remus to be able to throw him off.  Deceit gasps in pain, tries to pull himself upright, but Remus is already there, pushing him back down again.
“Eh, don’t feel too bad,” Remus says, patting Deceit on the cheek. “Better luck next time, right?”
“Remus, don’t,” Deceit begs, but Remus ignores him and picks up the morning star.
“C’mon, I won unfair and square,” Remus says.
Deceit is able to push himself to his feet, though he knows fighting Remus won’t do much good. Thomas and Virgil are standing in the doorway, which means he hasn’t even managed to give them a head start.
He lunges forward, grabs Remus by the arm, desperately trying to stop him, but Remus shakes Deceit off with a snarl. Deceit is already off-balance from the wound, and now Remus throws him to the ground. The air is forced out of his lungs, and he can only stare up at Remus, standing over him.
“Please,” Deceit is able to gasp out.
Remus tilts his head. “It’s only a job,” he says, a bit reproachful.
Deceit shakes his head. He wants to tell Remus it’s not, but he can’t, and someone is running across the room towards them.
“Stop,” Thomas cries, and Remus swivels to look at him. “Look, let him and Virgil go, and- and you can kill me. I won’t try to fight you.”
Remus glances between Thomas and Deceit, and then shrugs. “Kind of a weird thing to say, but I’ll take it.”
“No,” Deceit snarls. He tries to push himself upright, but is unable to.
“Deceit, don’t,” Thomas says. “It’s okay. You did everything you could.”
“Hang on,” Remus says, lowering his mace. “He knows you name?”
“Well,” Thomas says shakily, “It’d be kind of weird if I kept calling him Mr Assassin.”
 “Okay,” Remus says. “Can one of you tell me what in the ever loving fuck is going on?”
Deceit opens his mouth to explain, but before he can Virgil is at his side, one hand gingerly touching near the wound on Deceit’s abdomen.
“What the fuck, you just got stabbed,” Virgil hisses, which Deceit thinks should be fairly obvious by this point.
Virgil shrugs out of his hoodie and presses it against the wound, stemming the bleeding. Thomas crouches down on Deceit’s other side.
“Is he going to be okay?” Thomas asks.
“How the fuck should I know?” Virgil snaps. “I’m not a doctor.”
“I’ll be fine,” Deceit says. “I just need to close it.”
“What if it hit something important?” Virgil asks.
“Oh, please,” Remus says. “I’m not an amateur.”
Virgil and Thomas both startle at the reminder that Remus is here. Deceit sighs.
“If you find me something to stitch this with, I’ll tell you everything,” he says to Remus.
Remus hurries out of the room, and Deceit stumbles to his feet.
“What are you doing?” Thomas asks.
Deceit staggers to a chair, pushed against the side of the wall, and sits down in it. Virgil hurries over to press the hoodie against the wound again.
“It’ll be easier to stitch it like this,” Deceit says.
“Stitch it, right.” Thomas sounds faint. “Because that’s what we’re doing.”
“It’s what I’m doing,” Deceit corrects, waving Virgil away. “I don’t trust you with a needle.”
Virgil is reluctant to let go of the hoodie, until Deceit begins to peel his shirt off. He drops his shirt to the floor, next to Virgil’s blood soaked hoodie – he’ll have to help Virgil get the stains out of it later. When he looks up again, Thomas and Virgil are staring at him in horror.
“What happened to you?” Thomas asks.
Deceit glances down at his chest, and then shrugs. Most of the wounds he’s received are from accidents, or training, or times when the target decided to fight back. Those are the smaller scars, though, and Deceit has a feeling Thomas and Virgil are looking at the big ones. The ones that only happen when someone knows what they’re doing and wants to make it hurt.
“Business,” Deceit says.
“That’s a shit explanation,” Virgil points out.
“DeeDee got caught a few years back,” Remus says from the doorway, where he is now standing. He’s found a needle and thread somewhere – most likely something he brought with him.
“And they did that to you?” Thomas asks, choked.
Deceit glances at Remus, who shrugs, looking as confused as Deceit feels. “It was a long time ago.”
That doesn’t seem to make Thomas or Virgil feel any better, so Deceit takes the needle and thread from Remus and busies himself with stitching his wound. Thomas makes a strange, choked noise, but Deceit chooses to ignore it.
Remus is able to keep quiet until Deceit is almost done, when he blurts out, “Okay, seriously, what the fuck? You guys know he wants to kill you, right?”
It’s a fair point. Deceit looks up at Thomas and Virgil to see what they have to say to it.
“We got that after the first couple of assassination attempts,” Virgil mutters.
“But he hasn’t,” Thomas says. “And I don’t think he really wants to.”
“I don’t,” Deceit agrees. He finishes the last couple of stitches and ties it off.
“What, did you suck his dick or something? Cause if so, you must have been really good.”
Thomas turns bright red at that. Deceit avoids making eye contact with him.
“It’s not like that,” Deceit says quickly. “It’s-” Deceit hesitates, uncertain what it is like. “He’s my friend,” he finishes, though that doesn’t quite fit.
Remus pulls a face. “Gross.”
“This doesn’t change anything, does it?” Thomas asks. “I mean, even if you decide not to kill me, they’re just going to keep sending more people, right?”
“Then we go into hiding or something,” Virgil says, glancing at Deceit desperately.
“It would be difficult,” Deceit says slowly, “But not impossible.”
“And what happens to you two?” Thomas snaps, gesturing at Remus. Deceit doesn’t answer. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Maybe we should just- get on with it.”
“Absolutely not,” Deceit snarls.
“You just got stabbed. He could have killed you! He could have killed Virgil! I’m not- I can’t just let you guys get hurt for me.”
“Too bad,” Virgil hisses. “Because we’re not leaving.”
“Um,” Remus says, “Do I get to make a suggestion?”
“No,” everyone snaps.
“Alright, fine. I mean, I was gonna suggest we stop the contract, but sure, don’t listen to me.”
Wait.
“Stop the contract?” Virgil echoes. “As in- make it so there isn’t a price on Thomas’ head anymore?”
“The Agency doesn’t just stop contracts,” Deceit points out.
“Unless the client cancels it,” Remus corrects. “Honestly, Dee, were you even paying attention to how things work?”
“Hey, that- that actually sounds like an idea,” Thomas says.
“Barely,” Deceit says. “You’re suggesting that we find the client – something which is kept secret – and then somehow persuade them into not having Thomas killed, all without the agency finding out what we’re doing and killing us.”
“Okay, well, when you put it like that,” Remus mutters.
“Do we have any better ideas, though?” Thomas asks. “Because, no offence, but the idea of spending the rest of my life on the run isn’t very appealing.”
And the thing is, Deceit doesn’t have any better ideas. In fact, he’s pretty sure he could figure out who the client is, though the Dragon would almost certainly find out about it.
“Actually, Remus might be on to something,” Deceit says.
“You just listed all the reasons why it’s a terrible idea,” Virgil complained.
“Well, yes,” Deceit says. “There’s no way of getting to the client without the Dragon finding out. But we’re not going after the client.”
“Then who are we going after?” Thomas asks.
Deceit smiles. There’s a rush of energy through his body, the same as he gets before a particularly difficult mission. ���We’re going after the Dragon.”
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anika-ann · 5 years ago
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Nothing but the Truth - Pt.3
The Engagement
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader        Word count: 2570
Summary: A fake dating AU. Time to seal the deal officially; you become Steve’s fiancé, officially. Kinda. You really have to talk about the rules of engagement; read PDA.
Warnings:  some swearing, tons of fluff, (because you might need to stock it for what’s to come... maybe?)
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Story Masterlist
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Tony was kind enough to point out that the ring worth two dollars wouldn’t do.
No fucking kidding.
So, he also took the liberty of scheduling an appointment at some fancy jeweller’s shop; your gut clenched at the idea of buying an engagement ring.
With Steve.
For your fake relationship.
What the hell is even my life, you questioned as you walked beside Steve, your fingers interlaced with his.
Oh, yeah, that was another wonderful (read: super-awkward) thing to experience: the talk about physical contact and boundaries. Part of you had screamed at you to tell him that you were his to do whatever he pleased (unless you would very clearly and loudly asked him to stop), while the other part of you hoped he would keep the touching tuned down to minimum, because then there might be a chance for you to come back to friends-mode after he wouldn’t be forced to pretend affection anymore.
No, you did not believe that he would magically fall in love with you during your little show for the public and the kidnapper(s). Your life wasn’t a romantic comedy.
Though that was debatable, seeing as you were momentarily going to buy a fucking engagement ring together.
You casted a side-glance at him, marvelling at the soft absent smile on his lips and for the millionth time since you had met him, you wondered what was on his mind. He seemed rather content now, but you didn’t trust yourself to be able to tell anymore; here he was, appearing at ease and with a spring in his step despite the fact that during ‘the talk’, his body language had hinted you that he had been about as nervous and uncomfortable about discussing boundaries as you had been, at least at first.
Staying behind as Tony Stark wanted you to sign some forms – including ones in which you promised not to share the information concerning this case with a third party or the ones in which you agreed to wear a tracker on you 24/7 for your own safety –, you went to find Steve in his office to talk more about what you two just got yourself into, to discuss your ‘battle plan’.
You nearly collided with Sam who stormed from the very door you were heading to.
Freezing in spot, you watched him stride towards you, his eyes narrowed and menacing. He pointed an accusing finger at you, taking a steading breath; you only guessed he was trying to keep himself from shouting at you, as he no doubt had at Steve.
A wave of sympathy for the Captain washed over you. Judging by the expression on Sam’s face, it had not been a pleasant talk and it had not concerned the photo, but your plans for the future – which, what the hell, since when news travelled that fast?!
“You and I are going to talk about this,” he threatened, jaw set tight, looking you dead in the eye. “Call me when you finish… whatever you’re about to do with that-- jerk.”
You nodded curtly, swallowing on nothing, and continued your path.
Your knock on the door was hesitant, possibly too quiet for anyone but a supersoldier to hear.
His permission for you to enter was nearly as quiet and sounded rather exhausted.
You opened the door slowly, peeking in the office and finding him at the desk, forearms resting on the table, fingers interlaced.
He smiled up at you despite his weariness. “Hey you.”
You couldn’t but reciprocate that. “Hey yourself.”
Steve’s waved off your worry about the mood in which Sam was leaving this room as well as your concern for Steve’s wellbeing. He offered you to back out once more from the crazy plan, assuring you that it was alright to do so – at any given time. You found it kind, but not too welcomed. You needed him fully in for this, if you were about to go on with it.
So you tried to be firm about it, hopefully enough for him to understand, to read between the lines. He must have, because gradually, the talk moved to the topic of displays of affection.
“I… uh, I think that maybe it would be better for you to initiate contact, always?” he suggested reluctantly, as if not being certain himself. “Just to make sure I won’t make you too uncomfortable? And I don’t doubt that you have a better idea of what the liberties are when it comes to a relationship nowadays, so… eh-“
You hummed, thoughtful. “Well, I appreciate your trust in me – both in my know-how with relationships, which, eh, you might be surprised, and in me setting the boundaries just so skilfully that I won’t make you uncomfortable. But, I think that if it’s always me… wouldn’t that make me look… uhm, this is so awk- like, you know, like some nag or something? Like a crazy fan pawing you?”
“Would you be pawing me?” he blurted out, his slowly rising suggestive eyebrow giving away that his words were not as spontaneous as he wished for you to believe, a spark of mischief in his eye.
Really?!
Also, your core did not burn at him talking about you getting handsy, no sire, you would never-
“Are you really joking about this?” you chuckled despite yourself, the playfulness reaching you despite all odds. You were worried about this whole matter, but seeing him still being himself put you at ease, as much as it was possible at the moment.
“Sorry,” he hummed with a sheepish smile before turning serious again. “I… you might have a point. It’s just… I really don’t want to-- to hurt you or anything, I would hate if- if you didn’t feel… safe with me in that respect.”
Your heart fluttered as you were reminded that yes, Steve could be joking, but only to lighten the atmosphere, to do exactly what you felt happening – to put you at ease. Making sure you were comfortable.
This was all about him being sweet and considerate in a way you hadn’t seen in a man before and… it was doing things to you on visceral level, feeding the attraction to him that had nothing to do with a burning desire, but more with you wanting to cocoon him in a pile of blankets, or better yet, to build a blanket fort to hide him from the evils of this world – of which he had seen too many, you weren’t naïve – and just… snuggle him. The sentiment was dangerous, more so in the combination with the said desire to climb him, but you couldn’t help it.
A relaxed smile spread on your lips and you noticed that Steve’s stiffened posture – caused most likely by both Sam’s visit and the topic – eased as well.
“Is this the forties’ man speaking? Because that was another point I was about to make; Steve, everyone knows that you weren’t born in this day and age. What would be wrong with your—eh, fiancée, respecting that? I… now I’m just saying things from the top of my head, but surely when you had other-when you were with-- when--- ugh, we would find a compromise, right? A way to respect each other’s sensibilities? If we were together for real?”
Despite your rambling, a smile mirroring your own appeared on his lips, brightening his face (and your day).
He extended his hand in your direction in what seemed like an invitation, so you hesitantly took few steps towards him – only now realizing you had never sat down, too nervous for that –, fighting the urge to chew on your lower lip. The corners of his lips rose higher when you complied, his eyes mesmerizing when you inserted your hand in his.
It was strange as he was still sitting, but you knew all too well that it was just another way for him to show you that you were in charge of this, you had the ball on your court. You lead and he would follow.
It was driving you crazy – both in the best way and in the worse way possible, because you weren’t certain you could work with that amount of trust and responsibility.
“This is alright?” he asked, only half-joking, effectively snapping you back to reality in which your hand was in his.
You nodded, squeezing his hand. “Yeah, I think I can handle… hand-holding.”
“Good. We… we touched before. We hugged,” he reminded hesitantly and you realized that even your freak-out about ‘groping’ Steve yesterday had been ridiculous.
He had a point; yes, you were less touchy-feely with him than with Sam, but you… you had hugged before. He had put an arm around you; once again, not too often, but it happened. He would offer you an arm when there was a slippery floor. He caught when there was nothing on the floor and yet you managed to stumble over it.
You were being ridiculous about this, blowing it to proportion. Your shoulders slumped in relief with that realization and you grinned at Steve, causing him to raise a curious eyebrow as you motioned for him to stand up.
You were sure that he saw it coming miles away, but he still had the decency to huff when you slammed into his chest in a brutal hug and he chuckled at your sudden change of demeanour. His palm even caressed your back as his frame shook ever so slightly.
“I take it hand on your lower back is acceptable too then?” he whispered, hot air brushing your hairline.
You hummed in agreement and to your pleasant surprise, you felt his chin lightly rest on the top of your head. You melted into his body, allowing yourself to enjoy the proximity, screw the consequences. You could feel his steady if perhaps a bit faster than usual heartbeat on your cheek as you leaned it on his pectoral.
Sideway note: Yeah, he was amazingly ripped and it felt incredible to be held against that, something you hadn’t quite indulged in when you had been hugged by him before.
As you were still enveloped in his arms, he suggested few more rather chaste and sweet displays of affection; kiss in your hair, on your cheek, on your forehead or your hand, cupping your cheek if felt right, a peck on the lips if it came to extreme – and only if you clearly enough permitted it at the given moment.
You didn’t have it in you to say no to any of that, mostly because it was definitely acceptable. Instead, you breathed him in, santal wood, musk, detergent and him, you tried to engrave the moment into your brain for eternity, the feeling of being cradled in his embrace, how the material of his shirt caressed your skin and how warm and safe you felt.
Once you settled everything, your slightly wobbly legs carried you to the taxi that would take you to your apartment, the fact that you didn’t live with your fiancé being an issue left for another day. You found yourself basking in the aftermath and missing Steve’s warmth at the same time.
That night, sleep didn’t come easily and when the alarm blasted from your phone the next morning, waking you up for the appointment with the jeweller, you considered whether it was not all a dream.
But seeing as Steve picked you up…
He glanced down at you, noticing your gawking, and squeezed your hand, pulling you just an inch closer to his side.
“Are you alright?”
“Nervous as hell,” you admitted willingly and Steve grimaced.
“I can relate. I am a terrible liar, but we’ll make it work,” he assured you, not quite looking convinced himself.
You chuckled. “What a coincidence. I am a terrible liar too. Why are we doing this again?” you muttered the last sentence under your breath, momentarily forgetting that Steve had enhanced hearing.
“Because Tony and Natasha are stubborn and they do whatever they want,” he sassed you, smirking. Then, his expression softened. “If it doesn’t work out, we’ll figure something else to catch our guy. Don’t worry about it. But… I trust you. That’s why I am doing this.”
An enormous lump growing in your throat, you got yourself lost in the sincerity of his eyes and words, your breath stolen from your lungs by an invisible force.
“I trust you too,” you replied without thinking and felt with every fibre of your being that it was the truth.
Perhaps it was silly, since you technically didn’t know him that well.
However, it was the truth.
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The hunt for a perfect ring in the luxurious shop was both the best dream coming true and the worst nightmare coming to life.
You were treated like a princess, showered with attention, being offered jewellery which made your head spin, leaving you wide-eyed; at the same time, the overenthusiastic vendor was giving you creeps.
Harold was your typical sleazy businessman- no, that wasn’t right. He was somehow… worse. It wasn’t just that he was clearly trying to sell you the most expensive ring and to make good (crazy) money; his intrusive questions, importunate persona and joyful spark in his eyes whenever you and Steve exchanged the smallest gaze was bordering on one of madman’s.
It could be simply because he was obsessed with his job. However, you suspected he was trying to convince you that he was such a loyal fan to your love that he would deserve to be on the wedding guestlist. For the shortest moment, you wondered whether it was something people who could afford a ring from this place did.
In the end, it didn’t matter, because there would be no wedding.
You tried very hard not to think about that, because being here with Steve, all soft smiles and his seemingly genuine pick-whatever-you-want-I-just-want-to-make-you-happy attitude, it was all causing things happening in your body you weren’t sure you liked. With each moment in his presence, you felt yourself fall deeper into the trap of his charm, voluntarily walking down the path of falling in love with him – if you weren’t already before this whole ordeal.
After the purchase of an elegant diamond ring with the sizeable gem in its middle and several petite spread on each side of thin twisted metal, you left the shop with a polite smile on your face which fell as soon as the door closed behind you.
“Is it just me or was the guy giving away a really creepy vibe?”
“Not just you. I think creepy fits the description the best,” Steve confirmed while you bit on your lower lip, eyeing the jewellery on your ring finger. You couldn’t help but admire it – it was breath-taking. “He was way too enthusiastic for my taste.”
“Yeah… I- thank you for sitting through that with me. And for—this. It’s really beautiful.”
He slipped his hand into yours, fingers interlacing at instant, squeezing gently. “You’re welcome. Some exquisite taste you have here.”
You chuckled. “Thanks.”
You spent your walk in silence then, until Steve received a text from Tony, which you assumed as soon as a frown appeared on his face and he sighed.
“He set up an interview for tomorrow’s afternoon. He wants us to come see him first thing when we arrive to the Tower.”
Your heart leaped to your stomach at the news. “He did what?!”
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Part 4
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Tags: @mermaidxatxheart @bobertswagert @kakakatey @ccolz88-blog @joeyrumlow​ @lovemeterwrites​
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magnumdays · 5 years ago
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Magnum PI 2x19 “May the Best One Win”review AKA Fangirling over my new favorite episode
Staring off we got the whole Magnum introducing Higgy as his partner...or TC’s fiancee and TC being all “we cool man?” and Magnum saying what us fans were all screaming last week (Magnum: IT MAKES SO MUCH MORE SENSE IF SHE MARRIES ME! I WANT TO BE HER KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOUR DAMMIT!)
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Then Higgy is all “If you are done fighting over me...” - I mean, just, yeah, throw that in there just to torment me some more.
We basically transitions right into Magnum suggesting a divorce lawyer for Higgy in case she and TC ever “hit a rough patch” and her being all “I’m marrying TC to make sure WHAT WE HAVE doesn't get FUCKED UP, can’t you see that?” (I’m paraphrasing but that was the gist of it) I just can’t with this. It’s like 2 minutes in and I’m like in shipper heaven.
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Anyways, then we have the case! The let’s work both sides and make double the money and just the whole both spouses think the other is cheating but it’s all just a big misunderstanding and goodness, happiness and love wins in the end? It totally works for me. This is the kind of PI cases I WANT. Like not super serious people dying cases and shoot outs! People just being stupid and Magnum and Higgy helping uncover their secrets and then making everything better!
We also get the “May the Best PI win!” which I’ve been waiting for since we got the spoiler bit for this ages ago. 
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So we got a side plot with Rick that I really- REALLY - like for once! Want to guess why? BECAUSE IT TIES INTO THE THEME! Like huh? They manged that for the first time since forever? 
Yeah, I’m shocked too. But someone really thought about this or they got really lucky by chance because;
First we got the married couple not communicating and about to lose their chance at a love and a happy future because of it. When all their secrets are out they can finally start to fix things and heal.
Secondly we got the woman whose dad dies and she tries not to care because they didn’t have contact for so long but when Rick goes looking he realizes her dad did care and he lost his chance at love because he didn’t communicate. Now she can hopefully heal from both the sadness of her dad leaving as a kid and being dead and be a little happier.
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Then we maybe kind of have Higgy who by deciding to actually listing to what she’s feeling for once and deciding not to get married to TC for the wrong reason/ not wanting to live a lie (making it possible for her to find love and happiness with the right person in the future...)
I don’t know, maybe the Higgy one is reaching a bit but the main theme of we don’t know what we or other people are really feeling or thinking and we act anyway, that’s when we get in trouble pretty much work for everything.
Which is a really freaking great + it’s a good theme! It’s true but no so on the nose as something like ‘don’t lie’ or ‘love fixes everything’.
So yeah. Now back to the Miggy godness.
We got: 
married-not-married arguing
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Kumu’s “The way you two bicker you might as well be married.”
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I mean! Come on!
Then fun times with Higgy getting all the guys to do her bidding...and also actually paying for gas! I do hope this comes back in season 3 where Magnum realizes his pals actually deserves praise and compensation/ or them being all “we’re not helping unless you pay us like Higgy does”.
This could be a character growth kind of possibility arch, thingie, episode or whatever for next year.
The other arch for Thomas Magnum I really want to see in season 3 is the I’m FINE (but I’m not) one kind of lead to something (something bad). 
I know they’re going for a go-lucky kind of Magnum but fact is Magnum is a solider who spent time in a POW camp, he was betrayed by his ex-fiance, one of best friend got tortured and killed like not super long ago, his ex-fiance came back and shot him then came back again and died in his arms, his partner nearly drowned and he CPR her back to life, he thought he had a future with Abby but she dropped him like a hot potato and most recently he got swapped out of his (fake) wedding last minute, then fake wedding didn’t happen and he though he’d be separated from the love of his life his partner for an unknown amount of time and all he’s been saying is “I’m fine”. 
He’s got some baggage and having him always go I’M FINE isn’t really good or healthy because he isn’t fine. He doesn't have to be fine. Except when he acts like he’s not fine (like after Abby) everyone just tries to make him cheer-up when maybe he kind of needs to talk to someone about the kind of wacky stuff he’s been through. This is both something he and Higgy and even the guys need to work on. Basically it was only Gordon who was like, it’s rough, I’m here for you. I mean Higgy was there for him too, she just said “Staycation” a lot to make it not seem like she was because emotions, scary. 
Still I need like Magnum having nightmares about something and actually being all “I’m not fine” and for someone to go “okay. that’s fine. you don’t have to be okay all the time” (Oh this just screams at me to fanfic:it, but I just can’t start anymore of them without finishing a few. So bad thought, bad, go away.)
So, um where was I before I got sidetracked? Oh, right the general wonderfulness of the episode?
Gordon making Magnum say: I’m kinda useless without Higgins.
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Then having Magnum take hacking lessons from like a 12 year old on Youtube and begging Kumu lie about having seen Higgins computer (how has he not gotten his own laptop yet???) 
I mean it’s almost not funny anymore (It is. It’s legit the most I’ve smiled in a while.)
“Maybe I’ll let the wife decide“ when buying pie and then bringing said pie back to Higgins. 
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“There’s a hug and then there is a hug.”
(I needed this to be foreshadowing and IT WAS NOT! I still can’t hate it because she kind of agree there are different hugs and now I want all the hugs for them...or you know just one! ONE HUG!)
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And winner of this round of random things I loved, might be: “You figure out I’d make a better fake husband than TC?”
Can you be more obvious Magnum?
Then Higgins saying “I do still need a maid of honor!” (which we know isn’t true because last week she said she’d asked Kumu but we’re assuming she’s saying it just to tease him). But this made me think of that move Made of Honor movie with Patrick Dempsey where the guy she asks to be her maid of honor is actually the guy she ends up really marrying... at some later point.
Also has anyone sounded more British than Higgy going; “Oh no not the pie.“ after Magnum was all; “I’m taking my pie with me!” 
Then we got my babies being sneaky and adorable and working together (because you know, even when they’re not on the same team, they are).
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Then we got them kicking ass together (well more like getting their asses kicked) and only Higgy getting the gun saves them. But you know, that’s okay because I love it when she gets to be a bad-ass and knock people out. 
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I do feel like we need to work a little more on the realism on how bruises work on pale people, especially girls. Because you know, Higgy got slammed into like a table and slapped and seriously has anyone been slammed into a table by a really big guy lately? Well, and let me tell you from experience, even being slammed into a table by a small guy leave a bruise. And no way would she not get a swollen eye or lip from a slap that spun her around and landed her on the floor. Do you know how hard you need to slap someone for that? I mean she’s tiny (she’s what 5′4? 1115 pounds soaking wet?) and the guy was big but, still in real life she wouldn’t even be getting up, she’d be out cold, but it’s TV-land so I’ll forgive it but still, wouldn’t a tiny bit of blood on her lip make sense?
It’s kind of strange because sometimes they seem to really like putting the blood and gooe make-up on both Perdita and Jay and other times it’s like, nope, nothing, we’re invincible vampires this episode.
For today I understand the why of it though. They wanted our babies to look pretty for the wedding. Well, the wedding that doesn't happen which we all knew but still... 
Before that though; TC planing on crying at his fake wedding? Adorable.
First of all how does she mange to look both stunning and terrified this whole scene? 
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Look at her big eyes with the I’m about to cry shininess. Also the flower bits in her hair totally not her yet somehow totally works. 
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I also love how when he first enters he stops and looks at her for a second, like Higgy in a wedding dress. I think I might have some feels. And come on Thomas, couldn’t you have told her she looks nice? You can clearly see she’s freaking. But no you go straight for the “fake nerves?” which I guess makes sense because maybe someone told you there was only 2.5 minutes left of the episode so there was no time for compliments...
Anyways, then comes the heartbreaking bit. Because she has changed her mind and isn’t going to marry TC (or him). She’s not going to marry anyone and she’ll have to leave him.
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Leading us to the “Just fine.” moment I equally hate and love. 
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Don’t they both kind of look like they’re about to cry here? I feel like that’s the general vibe, or maybe it was the fact that I was tearing up a bit when I first watched it that makes me feel like that...
And as always tumblr stole the stuff I wrote here! I wish I’d learn and could go one week without losing like a chunk of text.
So I was just basically saying I loved this but I’d much rather have had Magnum go “No, I won’t” (when she says he’ll be fine) and then have her be “yes you will” and then he could just be Shrug or go “I guess I’ll have to be” or something else dramatic to show it’s a big deal to him. Then next week we could have him be really trying hard to reach Robin instead of having it all just be fixed with one little phone call. Like maybe Robin is undercover for his new book so Magnum has to make some sort of deal with some shady person who works for Robin to get his undercover contact. Or something and that could come back in season 3 as an episode...
Wow, this got kind of long, but yeah, I just loved this episode and wanted to gush about it and probably I won’t gush (or even complain) as much about 2x20 so it’ll even out in length...
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d-n-battle · 5 years ago
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You know... it’s not so much that I hate Naruhina and Sasusaku...
It’s more like I just really don’t get how anyone can really like these pairings?? Like I really just don’t understand the appeal???
Like did I really watch the same series as all you Naruhina and Sasusaku shippers????
Y’all: aaawww look at all of these Naruto and Hinata scenes, he clearly loves her sooo much <3 <3 <3🥰😍😌
Me: bitch where????😂😂😂
(Literally, I could make the exact same joke about Sasusaku)
Like, is it just me, or are these two ships literally just about the girls’ feelings???
I mean I’d be totally fine with these two couples, if they didn’t put this emphasis on the girls, and completely ignore the guys...
I mean ok - serious time now - can the Sasusaku shippers and Naruhina shippers show me any evidence from the anime (or manga if you’re a reader) of Naruto and Sasuke returning Hinata and Sakura’s feelings respectively???
Again, I want to reiterate that this is a genuine request, I’m not trying to poke fun with this one. I’m just genuinely curious as to what you guys can dig up. (But also, side note - please refrain from using the films or Boruto as I haven’t watched them yet. I honestly don’t think I’m even gonna watch Boruto, cause I’m not a big fan of like spin off series, so yeah...But anything from the 720 anime episodes, or any of the manga chapters is fine.)
Anyway, back to my point.
Relationships are about two or more people coming together because they recognise that they have romantic feelings towards each other.
Which is exactly why I, like I’ve said already, don’t understand how Naruhina and Sasusaku are supposed to work???
Like yeah, Sakura and Hinata both like/love Sasuke and Naruto.
But when have Sasuka and Naruto expressed that they like them back in that way???
I mean as a whole the show was never even about romance, sure there were hints at possible relationships throughout, but that was never the point of the show.
I mean I feel like this all harkens back to some points I’ve already seen made by other people, but like why is romance necessary in this situation???
.....siiiiiigh.....😒
Because what else are female characters for??? If not to fawn over the male character then really what are they for??? I mean it’s not like they’re meant to represent real life people just like the male characters right??? It’s not like they’re meant to actually have well fleshed out characters with goals that don’t revolve around getting the guy of their dreams to notice them right??? Nooo, of course not, don’t be ridiculous....
I am seriously just soooo done with this bullshit. Like I’ll be the first to admit that Hinata and Sakura are not my favourite characters, but I mean it’s not like that’s really their fault now is it??? I mean they honestly both had a lot of potential. Like, seriously, soooooo much potential. I’m being completely honest here, I was well and truly so disappointed by how these two girls’ character potential was squandered 😔😔😔
And all for the sake of fullfilling their ‘true’ purpose in the show....
And don’t even try to give me the excuse that because Naruto is a shounen anime aimed at a primarily male audience, female characters can’t be feutured as anything besides the love interst. Like what kind of shit is that - so guys can’t even enjoy female characters unless they’re lusting after the male characters they like to insert themselves into???? I mean if you really think that then you must really hate guys.
Like I’m sorry but that just makes men sound like shit. It makes them sound like they only view women as people who belong to them, and are only relevant when it comes to how they are connected to men.
Women are their own goddamm people!!! They don’t exist solely to appease men!!!
As I woman, I have had to put up with this shit for years, and I am so done with it. If guys get to have characters that represent them in almost every piece of media out there, then why don’t women get to have the same treatment??? We make up a whole half of the entire goddamn population!!!
Honeslty, a bitch is soooooo mad about this 😡😡😡(thag bitch being me of course)
And what I’m also super mad about is that these two relationships imply that the guys feelings are completely irrelevant. Like I’m sorry but no amount of Sakura liking/loving Sasuke makes it okay for her to end up with him - if he doesn’t feel anywhere near the same amount of love or appreciation for her. And the same can be applied to Hinata and Naruto.
This outcome also forces everyone to just completely ignore/forget the fact that Naruto and Sasuke are completely unready to be in a relationship with anyone.
Like, yeah I’m gonna admit here that I am indeed a Narusasu shipper, but I’ll also admit that I dead ass don’t think they’d even be ready for a relationship with each other.
I mean the war and everything else just completely messed them both up, so they would both probably need some time to heal. And knowing those two, it would most likely take quite a while before they’re anywhere near healed enough to date - let alone fucking marry - anyone.
And, also (so that I’m not accused of favouritism towards the boys) - what about Sakura and Himata and the shit that they themselves experienced??? I mean Hinata had to watch her cousin die in front of her - that’s gotta mess you up. And Sakura was a medic - there’s no imagining the shit she must have seen.
War messes people up for a long time, and bassed off of what I’ve heard of Boruto - the timeline implies that these two couples got married and had kids pretty soon after the war.
That. Does. Not. Add. Up. Sis!!!!!
Honestly, the series should have just had what I like to call an ‘open ending’. This is where pretty much everything is left (you guessed it) out in the open. By everything I mean like the final relationships and stuff like the minutiae of the story. Unless, your story is a romance story in which case the romance is the most important thing, but as we’ve established- this is not the case with Naruto.
If you don’t explicitly state that characters X and Y are married with 2.5 kids, everyone who would dislike that as an outcome is free to think that they didn’t.
Like seriously, the whole point of using the line “and they lived happily ever after”, is so that you can leave the ending open to the interpretation of the audience. That’s why I’ve never liked being told how they lived happily ever after.
Because, ultimately everyone has different ideas of what happy looks like.
Some people want to get married because that’s what would make them happy, and for some marriage would achieve the opposite. It’s the same case with having children. Or what job you wanna have.
I mean really, there is soooo many different ideas of what happy looks like.
So why limit yourself and more importantly your audience/readers????
I mean think about it like this. The purpose of a main character is basically to give us a point of view of the story through which we can be influenced. That’s why a lot of the time they don’t really have distinct personality traits - so that the reader can project their own onto them. That way the reader/audience member is able to immerse themselves in the story. We are allowed to image that the main character is us. That’s why we get angry when they do something we don’t like, our first thought is - “well, I wouldn’t have done that...”. So image how disconnected you would feel, from a character who makes a big decision that you don’t agree with. Like say, getting married, when you yourself can’t imagine yourself getting married??? Or say, getting married to someone who you yourself wouldn’t want to get married to???
I think that’s the real issues in case of Naruhina and Sasusake. The majority of us - who are clearly of sound minds - would not want to marry Hinata, Sakura, or even Naruto and Sasuke. Most likely because their characters often times feel like caricatures of people, instead of real life people. They feel somehow unfinished, and so we have a harder time seing the bigger picture, and how these big decisions they have made are supposed to make sense.
Okay, I feel like I’ve rambled enough. I leave you with this -
I don’t mean to offend anyone with this post, and so I hope I haven’t/didn’t/won’t. I’m truly just stating my opinion here. If you don’t agree with anything I’ve said here, please do let me know; I’ll always appreciate constructive criticism.
I will always love Naruto. But in order to truly love something you have to also recognise it as flawed. And this was simply me pointing out some of the things which I perceive as flaws of the show/manga.
Please, don’t think of this post, or any others which I might make in the future, as hate posts. As I’ve said, I do love the show/manga - but that doesn’t make me unwilling to crique it.
Alrighty, this is where I actually end the rant.
Thanks for coming y’all,
Love,
Danny
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monochrome-monarch · 5 years ago
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I made a promise that I intend to keep
Okay, so my friend @flamingkingoftheskies and I were discussing some good angst for Atlantis Days (fun fact: it was the first thing we discussed lol) and well, it's Rodorah-centric because clearly the ship doesn't have enough angst in it lol (but don't worry, we have also discussed some fluff and shitposts for it, which I'll spill in a future post).
You know how I mentioned that the Triplets remembered that they were planet conquerors and that they decided to go back to being conquerers, starting with Earth? Well, They also decided 'Hey, before we kill our now ex-friend Gojira and be the new alpha, why don't we ask Rodan to be our Beta?' Because, well, Rodan and Ghidorah are mates at this point and have children of their own. So yeah, makes sense to them that their beautiful and wonderful mate would be their Beta.
Except the thing is is that Rodan is definitely not up for murdering his best friend and Alpha and taking over the Earth for obvious reasons. Hell, he's pretty disgusted that Ghids is totally on board with murdering their best friend ("Did he mean nothing to you three!?"). Rodan tries to talk them out of it but the triplets are also trying to talk him into joining them. It goes downhill from there. Like, really downhill from there.
Okay, so basing the next scene off of these two posts by @ckret2, one of the things Ghidorah has remembered from their past is that they can apparently control people using their voice. Well, in the past, mostly roars but they can use it with their regular(?) voice. Sure, it's been a long, long time since they have used it but when dealing with Rodan, who is getting more and more agitated (and scared? They hope he isn't), it's worth the shot, right?
So, Ichi decides to use it on Rodan, Ni and San deciding to butt out for now unless Ichi could use some help. It goes smoothly, sure Rodan was getting a feeling that something was off but he starting to agree with Ichi. Yeah, taking over Earth sounds like a great idea. Yeah, he'll definitely be their Beta and they can rule together. Yeah, he's definitely up for killing Gojira and - Wait, what?
So yeah, Rodan suceeds in a wisdom saving throw or something and snaps out of it. Maybe mentioning on murdering the Alpha aka your mate's best friend wasn't such a good idea when you're trying to get your mate to join you at the Dark Side. And now said mate knows that not only do you conquer, and sometimes destroy but that doesn't happen that much, planets and want to murder his best friend but you and your brothers can apparently also mind control him and you did just that. It is certainly not helping your case.
When Rodan snapped out of it, he made a nearby volcano erupt out of sheer rage and fear which did get a lot of attention from humans and neighboring titans. So yeah, everyone's wondering what the hell is going on but well, seeing as Rodan is a disaster, they all collectively thought, "Oh, what did he do this time?" All except his friends, most especially Goji who is considering on going to check on Rodan, and Ghidorah by extension, since, clearly, something ain't right. And well, yeah, by the time Goji got to Isla de Mara, the argument had evolved into an aerial brawl, and not the fun kind, since the triplets had given up on convincing Rodan to join them but Rodan wasn't going to let them go off and kill Goji so cue Rodan attacking them.
To an outsider, they just look like they're rough housing but to someone that knows them well like Goji, it's clearly a serious fight and Goji rushes in to mediate, totally oblivious to the fact that the triplets want him dead. So, imagine the look on Goji's face when the triplets suddenly attack him, murderous looks on their faces. Luckily, Rodan is quick and immediately defends his Alpha so he can get over the shock and fight back. I'm not sure if sensing dumbassery is her sixth sense or Goji called her before confronting them but Mothra arrives to help. Rodan also fills them in on what's going on and yeah, Goji coming over was a terrible idea. Also, now it's 3 against 3 but it's still difficult as the Triplets had many years of asskicking and planet destroying experience.
So, shit gets so bad that a retreat was needed, hell Mosu had the most injuries. To buy them time to escape, Rodan stays behind and continues to fight his mates despite being clearly outmatched. It ends in Rodan losing horribly via getting shot down with a gravity blast from all three of them. Like, so bad his wings got badly damaged and maybe his volcanic armor is cracked and bleeding. If you're wondering how bad, we made some guesses as to how bad:
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The orange/yellow marks are former holes and tears that got repaired by the magma
You're probably wondering: "Oh come on, Rodan and Goji were fine in the film when they got blasted" and I will say
1) Meh, just for angst
2) Goji and Rodan are two different species but I will admit that, yes, Rodan would've been able to deal with it better because he's made of volcanic rock but see number 1
3) In the film, Rodan was only hit by one blast. Here, it's three. Both at point blank.
But mostly, it's option one. Oh, don't give me that look.
So yeah, after having defeated their mate and thought to have killed him, the Triplets push back their pain and regret and set off to find Goji and Mosu, who are at Atlantis and trying to get the Atlanteans to evacuate with Anguirus helping them. Ghidorah attacks, Atlantis sinks with Anguirus dying there (maybe) and fight ends up being taken to Antartica. The triplets end up getting sealed and trapped under the ice and I'm considering having Mothra die, which explains her first appearance in KOTM. Either way, Goji is able to secure his position as Alpha but ends up losing four friends and a mate except mate will come back who knows when and three of said friends aren't exactly his friends anymore. Still really devastated, though
He goes back to Isla de Mara, hoping that Rodan is still alive and yeah, he is but seriously wounded. They chat for a bit as Goji carries Rodan up the volcano, he also tells him what happened, especially to Mothra, Anguirus and Ghidorah. Rodan is of course upset but knows it had to be done however, he still feels guilty about Mothra and Anguirus. They arrive at the peak, Rodan's children running up to him and Goji. They saw the fight. They watched their sires blast their carrier out of the sky. They thought he was dead - Rodan and Gojira try their best to calm the children. He'll be fine. He just needs to rest and recover and everything will be alright. They promise to the little ones.
Before Goji puts him inside his volcano to heal, Rodan tells him where Dagon's egg is located since he and the former Alpha had hidden the egg somewhere secret before Dagon died from his injuries.
"Promise me that you'll take good care of the kid?"
"I promise."
And Godzilla carefully places Rodan in the magma to heal. Rodan then goes into hibernation. After bidding the children goodbye, Goji then goes off to find the egg and does find it. He tries raising it alongside his son and tries his best before the Mass Hibernation started.
Millions of years later, Goji wakes up to a bunch of shattered eggshells and faded footprints indicating that the egg had hatched while he slept, his son, now full grown, still sleeping and also, the humans are noisy but also advanced. Still annoying, though. Oh, and they blow things up now. . . Great. Years later, he has to deal but eventually kill two rivals, descendents of his predecessor's killer. Five years later, his three former friends come back and well,
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Millions of years later, Mothra hatches to, instead of adoring and loyal followers, strangely armored humans pointing weapons at her. One fires at her and well, just because Mothra is a child at the moment doesn't mean she can't kick ass. Sure, she does calm down upon hearing her mate's ever so familiar and comforting call but she ends up escaping when shit goes down, when dangerous humans enter and begin to kill everyone around her. Then when shit gets even worse when her three former friends come back and well, it's definitely ass-kicking time. Well, she needs to lay an egg first and then it's ass-kicking time.
Millions of years later, the triplets are rudely awaken to an explosion that frees them and the pests wearing weird armor and wielding weird weapons (San wants one of those rifle things though). It's a shame those weapons don't work on them but even then again, What is a human weapon to a gravity beam? Then their archenemy appears and well, while they manage to overpower him, which honestly proves their point on how weak he is, they decide to escape. Then as they fly away from their prison, they hear a roar, a familiar roar that they thought they will never hear again. Maybe. . . Maybe they can try again. They can be together again. They can rule this planet together, as Alpha and Beta. Hopefully. . . Then their beloved mate attacks them.
Millions of years later, Rodan wakes up to what sounds like an Alpha call, his now adult children still asleep and his volcano modified with metal and advanced technology. Not that he cares on the latter part. He wants out. And so he does and he's greeted by his patron city now looking very different and strange birds flying and blasting at him. Rodan isn't pleased with the things hitting him and reopening some minor wounds on his recently healed wings so, Rodan decides to teach some pests a lesson on how aggravating a titan is a terrible idea - Then he sees them. Deep inside, he wants to be happy to see them. It's been so long after all. But he remembers what happened. He remembers the fight. He remembers how they just attempted to murder their friends without a care about their history. He remembers the pain. Then with an enraged roar, he forgets his prey and lunges at his traitorous mates.
---
Okay, I just finally finished writing this and holy shit, this was longer and way more than I expected. Like, I was just going to tell you guys some Rodorah angst but well, never dang. Here's some more stuff about Atlantis Days, I guess.
Also, pretty sure I didnt do a good job explaining but meh.
Though, I might edit this in the future, in case I get more ideas or change my mind or something.
Edit: Wording
42 notes · View notes
poorreputation · 5 years ago
Text
That Being Said, So Get This
A Supernatural-Buzzfeed: Unsolved Crossover! All part of the @cocklesdestielfiction Cockles-Destiel Crazy Crossover Challenge! (and @verobatto-angelxhunter)
To read on AO3:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/20960567
Wordcount: 6390
Ship: Destiel
Rating: Teen and up
Any kind of warnings: canon-typical violence. If you watch either show, you should be fine. Also, lots of in-jokes. Maybe too many in-jokes.
Also: contains SPN S14 Spoilers
Summary: 
What happens when Buzzfeed: Unsolved and Supernatural are set in the same universe! Ryan Bergara, the believer. Shane Madej, the skeptic. The Winchester Brothers- serial killers? And whatever happened to James Novak?
Story below the cut!
  Ryan Bergara waits for the sound engineer's cue, then begins reading aloud from his script, "In June of 2008, James 'Jimmy' Novak disappeared, leaving behind wife Amelia and daughter Claire. Just a few years later, in 2010, Amelia vanishes, as well. Jimmy is reported to have been spotted a handful of times since then, but what could have lead a loving father and husband to vanishing from the face of the earth? And what prompted his wife to join him?"
  A pause, a second reading of the same paragraph, and then Ryan continues, "The Novaks were known for their devout faith and regular church attendances. According to close friends and family, Jimmy became a zealot in the months leading up to his disappearance, saying that he'd gained the ability to 'talk to Angels'. It's said this put a great strain on his and Amelia's marriage. But, is this what caused him to leave? Did he even leave under his own will?"
  More details are fleshed out, more takes are made, until Ryan reaches his favorite part of every Unsolved episode, "That being said, let's get to the theories. Our first theory builds off of Jimmy's known fanaticism. That he had become convinced he could talk to, and become a vessel for, Angels, and so left his family to fulfill his mission to god. This, however, does not explain what happened to Amelia, or why she disappeared so long after her husband.
  "Our second theory is more far-fetched, and comes mostly from the internet rumor-mill. Over the years, there's been alleged sightings of Jimmy Novak, not only nationally, but internationally, as well. He's most controversially been claimed to have been spotted with infamous serial killers, Sam and Dean Winchester. Coupled with this is the idea that Jimmy and Dean are romantically connected, which people cite as to why Jimmy left his family in the first place, and that Amelia didn't disappear while looking for Jimmy, but was, in fact, killed by Dean. And, for the record, I think this is horseshit."
  Ryan looks up to see the sound engineer silently howling with laughter, which puts a dumb grin on his own face, "But wait, it gets worse!"
  Clearing his throat, and fighting to keep a straight face, Ryan continues, "Our third and final theory is that Jimmy and Amelia weren't running towards anything, but away from someone. That someone? Their 10 year old daughter Claire, who some, as in the internet, claim is a Demon-" Ryan breaks off his sentence, laughing so hard he gives himself the hiccups, "This is gonna be our worst episode, ever."
3 WEEKS LATER
  Ryan Bergara and Shane Madej step out of one of two rental vans, as the rest of the crew starts to unpack. Shane, the taller of the two hosts, stretches his arms, "God, it's good to get out."
Ryan doesn't respond, looking on at the location for that week's episode. His stomach aches just from the sight of it.
 "You all right there?" Shane asks, "Breakfast making a reappearance?"
 "Nah, just." Ryan shakes his head, "The cases with murder always get me. So fucking creepy."
 "Yup." Shane claps his shoulder, leading the way to the front door.
 The house is a single story home, very modern, less than ten years old. Only one family had lived in it, and now it's vacant. The lawn is trimmed, as it's the least the city can do, but the walls, windows and porch are filthy. Items deliberately thrown at the windows are dry and caked on, and Ryan can just picture kids in costumes throwing eggs at the house on Halloween, probably on a dare.
 Shane fishes out the keys from his pocket, waits for their cameraman to give them the thumbs-up, and unlocks the door. Motioning for Ryan to go first, Shane gives a cheeky bow.
 "Alright, whatever." Ryan mutters.
 Everyone filed in, lighting tested and cleared, Ryan begins. He walks into the living room, Shane just a pace behind, and soaks in the scene. The furniture is gone, a light fixture and a bookshelf are all that remain. trying to recall the grisly crime scene photos, Ryan waves hand where the couch should have been. "In August of 2011, Marianne Wyatt and her three boys sat in this area, as someone came up behind them, and shot them, one after the other. They'd been bound, unable to escape, and-" Ryan blinks, nausea overwhelming him, "And a few days later, the father, Marianne's husband, Phil, was found dead. His death ruled a suicide, no note was ever found. Police couldn't prove it, but the theory was that Phil killed his family, and then himself. No one knows why."
 "Neighbors on either side said they heard nothing?" Shane says, prompting Ryan out of his daze.
 "Heard no screams, no shots. Police couldn't even pinpoint the wife and kids' time of death." Ryan nods, "I think I need some water."
 The cameraman shoots some B-roll as Ryan sits, one of the producers handing him a water bottle. "thanks." Ryan nods, as he takes a swallow.
 There's rumbling outside, followed by one of the crew commenting, "whoa, look at that ride!"
 "Sweet car." the boom operator quips.
 Shane looks out the window, "Eh, too obnoxious for my tastes."
 "That's a '67 Chevy Impala." the first crew member replies, "You have no taste."
 Several people, including Shane, laugh at this, and leaves Ryan with an odd sense of deja-vu. Maybe if the room would stop spinning, he could figure out what it is.
 With Ryan looking so sick, the rest of the crew agree to break for the day. Shane drives Ryan to a gas station to get the sickly man some medicine and a Sprite to calm his stomach. Feeling much better, Ryan stays back for a bit to check out the souvenirs the store has to offer, "We could get a hat, or maybe something small like a shot glass."
 "Or, we can get gas station nachos!" Shane grins, his smile only getting broader as Ryan pales at the thought, "And here I thought you were a hardened pro, Ryan Bergara."
 "It might just be food poisoning." Ryan replies, thumbing through some key chains. A car pulls into the lot, loudly announcing its presence, and Ryan has to stop himself from rolling his eyes, "What's it with people around here and their shitty mufflers?"
 "Oh, that's not very fair." Shane replies, the sarcasm lightly sprinkling his words, "I mean- look! -it's the same car from earlier. You shouldn't make such generalizations."
 Ryan peers up as they start walking towards the cashier, as the black, classic car comes to a stop, the engine cutting off a second later. Ryan's eyes widen, as he remembers where he's seen this car before. He shakes his head, willing his heart to slow down. As Shane pays for their stuff, Ryan can't resist the urge to try and catch a glimpse of the car's owner. Just to reassure himself, nothing more. However, by the time Shane's ready to leave, the driver of the Impala has already gotten back in the car.
 The ride back to the hotel is quiet, save for the radio tuned into some local station. It's a sports station, and Ryan feels it's a nice gesture Shane put it on for him, but Ryan just can't concentrate. He can feel Shane glance his way every now and then, and as he pulls into the hotel parking lot, "Hey, if you're really feeling that bad, I'm sure we can find an Urgent Care, around here."
 Ryan shakes his head, "It's not that."
 "What's on your mind?"
 Ryan stares out the window as Shane parks the rental, "Reading up on all of these cases, it makes ya kinda paranoid after a while."
 Shane laughs, "You don't have to be so serious about it."
 "No, really. The car we saw earlier? It reminds me of the episode we filmed a few weeks back. The Novaks, remember?"
 "I don't recall the devout Christian couple driving a muscle car."
 "Right." Ryan nods, "I'm an idiot, I didn't include it in the script, but it's the car Dean Winchester's known to drive."
 "So? It's a 'classic car', I'm sure a ton of people drive it."
 "But it was in front of the Wyatt house, earlier."
 Shane gives a single shrug, "Maybe it's a fan. There was a data breach, last week. Someone could've leaked the location of this week's episode."
  Ryan has to admit to himself, Shane's reasoning does make him feel better, "You're probably right."
  Dean steers the Impala into the motel parking lot, as Sam sits next to him, reading from his phone, "Marianne Wyatt and her kids are buried together at Eternal Rest Cemetery. Phil, however, was cremated."
  "But, a man is reported to be seen in the house?" Dean asks.
  "That's right." Sam confirms.
  "Some personal items of Phil's still there?"
  Castiel speaks up from the backseat, "House was empty when we searched it earlier, save for some signs of 'squatters'." he answers, using air-quotes, "Have we considered the possibility of the spirit not being Phil Wyatt?"
  "No one else has lived in the house, let alone died here." Sam says.
  "What if Phil's suicide was staged?" Castiel poses, "The wife and children are killed, the husband's taken hostage for insurance. Something goes wrong, Phil is murdered, and it's staged as a suicide."
  "There wasn't any physical evidence tying Phil to the murders." Dean agrees, "Could've been a set-up. It'd also make sense why he'd be a vengeful spirit."
  "Again, we don't know it's Phil, or what's tying him, there." Sam sighs, "It feels like we're going in circles."
  "If not Phil Wyatt, then what? The killer?" Dean asks, "Unless the guy died in the house, why would he be stuck?"
  Castiel thinks, "Maybe the real killer has something from this crime. Kept it one his person, even in death."
  "So, the 'real' killer's stuck in someone else's house?" Dean shakes his head, "This shit's giving me a migraine, god."
  Entering the motel, Sam gets to work researching any possible leads on the Wyatt murders, as Dean hops in the shower, and Castiel is left standing in the middle of the room. After a minute of tense silence, Sam takes the bait, "What's wrong, Cas?"
  "The beds look disgusting." Castiel practically spits, not in harsh judgement, but genuine concern. Sam looks over at what he's talking about, and sees the usual grimy, cheap motel pillows and comforters. Both beds have old, faded stains, and minute tears. Sam figures Castiel being without powers makes him more sensitive to cleanliness, or lack thereof, more than as an Angel.
  "Don't know what you want me to do about it." Sam sighs, "I'm sure they're just old."
  "I think I want to sleep out in the Impala." Castiel mutters.
  Sam resists the urge to roll his eyes, "Ask Dean for the keys when he gets out, then."
  Castiel resorts to standing awkwardly in the corner, as Sam does his best to just research the Wyatt murders. By the time Dean returns to the main room, back in his old, sweaty clothes, making the shower seem entirely pointless, Sam stumbles upon some interesting information.
  "Hey. So, get this," Sam calls the other two men over, "There was this leak at the Buzzfeed headquarters, some of it revealing the Unsolved guys' sites for the new season."
  Castiel stares blankly at him. Dean sees this and goes, "It's a couple of assholes on the web who mess with ghosts and Demons. Sam, being the serial killer fanboy he is, is obsessed with their true crime series."
  "I'm not a fanboy."
  Dean mutters to Castiel, "Yes he is."
  "The reason I bring it up," Sam presses, "is because this week, they're covering the Wyatt murders."
  Dean pauses, "Wait, that camera crew we saw earlier-?"
  "Looks like it's Buzzfeed."
  Castiel leans over, peering at the computer screen, "The- the disappearance of the Novaks?"
  Sam and Dean turn, and confirm Castiel’s observation, "Oh, my God."
  "I mean," Dean starts, "There's more than one Novak out there, you know?"
  "From Pontiac, Illinois?" Sam asks.
  Dean frowns, "Well, I guess that means you can't meet your idols, Sammy."
  Sam scoffs at this, "They're probably gone by now, anyway. They never stay in a location for longer than a day."
  "Let's use caution when going back, regardless." Castiel says, turning to Dean, "May I stay in the Impala, tonight?"
  Dean, flustered and blushing, replies, "What's wrong with in here? Afraid to share the bed? I was gonna make Sam sleep on the floor, anyway."
  Sam feels a part of his soul wither away from the second-hand embarrassment.
  "This room is filthy, and I don't want to stay here." Castiel answers.
  "That's just character." Dean mumbles, taking out his keys, "Fine. Whatever."
  After Castiel shuts the front door, Sam braces himself for Dean's inevitable angsty tantrum, "He didn't have to be so rude. We stay in places like this all the time! Sure, none of these rooms come with a third bed, so maybe he was afraid to bunk with one of us, especially you." Dean points at Sam, "You kick in your sleep. In fact, I was just gonna make you sleep on the floor, with you being the youngest and everything."
  Sam wonders how close the nearest liquor store is.
  At midnight, Dean can't help himself but to check on Castiel. He needs a good excuse though, so he grabs the remainder of the six pack, all that Sam didn't drink, and heads out into the dimly lit parking lot.
  Dean can tell from some distance away that Cas is still awake. The Impala's interior is alight, and as Dean nears he can see Cas in the backseat holding up a book. Reaching the car, Dean knocks on the window, then lifts the cans of beer when Castiel glances up. Castiel moves to unlock the door, and without invitation Dean scoots in, ignoring how close-quarters the situation is, and offers Castiel a drink. Dean's so preoccupied with not brushing up against Castiel in any way, that he forgets to actually say anything.
  "Did you need something?" Castiel asks, opening the can with a pop.
  Dean, suffering from a brain-fart, "Just, uhm, checking in."
  The awkward silence is so palpable, Dean feels like he's about to choke, "So, this place can get pretty uncomfortable. Did you, er, want a pillow? Or something? Blanket?" he says, sweating profusely.
  Castiel points to the front seat, "I already have a pillow, thank you."
  Dean gives a high-pitched hum, and, with little to add, exits the car.
  Back in the motel, "I think Cas is upset." Dean says as he closes the door, "He doesn't want to be in the same room as m- us," he looks up at Sam, who's doing his best to ignore his older brother at the moment, "You think he's still mad about the whole 'you're dead to me' thing?"
  Sam rolls his eyes, "Gee, what could ever give you that impression."
  "I was just being angry!" Dean starts to pace, right as Sam's head starts to pound, "I yell at you sometimes, and you know I don't mean it!"
  "I've known you for 36 years, I think I've picked up on that." Sam deadpans, "Maybe, and here's a novel concept, you tell Cas that yourself?"
  "I don't know, I think you-"
  "No." Sam presses, "I'm not gonna be the messenger between you guys. You want to patch things up with Cas, do it yourself."
  In the morning, after a full night of not resolving their issues, Castiel returns to the motel from a coffee run. Wordlessly passing around three cups, the group huddles around Sam as he gets ready to show them his recent findings.
  Ryan and Shane return to the Wyatt house first thing in the morning, the crew waiting for them out front. Working off of nothing but coffee and toast, Ryan's ready for take two. They enter the house, set up their equipment just like the day before, and get situated.
  "There's one suspect, outside of Phil Wyatt himself, police posit committed these crimes" Ryan says, "And since the guy's dead, it'll remain as speculation."
  "Victor Myers was the personal assistant to a business mogul." Sam begins, "He traveled frequently, mainly within the United States. Occasionally, he would go into the next town over, pick a target, and kill them. The longer he did this, the bolder he got."
  Ryan says, "Victor started off killing one, then two people at a time. After a couple of years, he found his rhythm in killing families and making it look like a break-in." he looks around the vacant living room, a chill going down his spine.
  "He wrote about some of his kills," Sam continues, "but it's suspected he took many more lives, around 30, at least. He died of a stroke, four years ago. Police only knew of the murders after searching his home and DNA evidence. The deaths of the Wyatts are thought to be connected to Myers, judging by Victor's whereabouts at the time and the nature of the kills, but obviously the police can't pursue it."
  "So, we're dealing with the ghost of a serial killer?" Dean asks.
  "Serial killers are known to keep 'trophies' of their victims." Castiel adds, "It could be what's tying him to the house."
  Sam's eyes widen, as he lifts up the laptop for everyone else to see, "Maybe not."
  Castiel tilts his head to the side, "The events began before Victor's death?"
  "So," Dean asks, "Who's haunting?"
  "The thought of Victor Myers being behind these killings seems like a no-brainer," Ryan says, "but it doesn't have everyone convinced. Personally, I think the cops here know it's the truth, but don't want to go through the trouble of proving Myers did it."
  "Wouldn't be the first time." Shane nods in agreement, "Too much paperwork."
  After filming, the cast and crew pack their things, and get ready to leave the Wyatt house, and the small suburban town, for the last time. Ryan can't help but breathe a sigh of relief; the suffocating feelings he'd had the day before weren't as strong, now, but they were still incredibly unpleasant. At the threshold of the once occupied home, he turns back to the empty rooms that echoed their steps and voices, "If there's a Victor around here, you can kindly fuck off."
  Shane shrugs his bag higher up on his shoulder, "The camera's are off, buddy. No idea what you're trying to prove."
  "That there's a thick and toxic presence in the house?" Ryan asks, shutting the door behind him, "One that we'll never have to deal with again?"
  Shane groans, "It's True Crime season, Ryan. The one season where you and I are on the same page. And you have to make it about your spooky stories."
  "Most murders have some whisper of the supernatural to them." Ryan replies, "I just don't always bring it up. This time I did. So, there."
  Shane shakes his head, "What an active imagination you have."
  Dean methodically checks all of their weapons, handing each item one-by-one to Sam for packing. Their gear, stored in two duffels, is almost ready to go, Sam zipping up the first bag and readying the second. Castiel does a once-over of their motel room, as after they're done with the Wyatt house, they're heading straight out of town; all three men agreed, with the extra attention on them from those 'paranormal investigators' from Buzzfeed, it wouldn't be smart to linger.
  An hour later, Dean gathers everyone around, "We'll park the Impala a block from the house, walk the rest of the way. Someone spots the car, they won't automatically know where we are. Ready?" a nod from Sam and Castiel, "Right, let's go."
  Flight not until mid-morning, the crew decide to treat themselves to some drinks at the local bar. A couple of rounds in, Shane returns from the bathroom and says to the group, "Hey, guys, I forgot to leave the key at the house. Can one of y'all drop me off?"
  Ryan, who's only had one beer, raises his hand, "Got ya covered."
  A minute later, both men are back in the rental, driving down that familiar street. Ryan pulls up to the curb, front passenger's door lined up with the sidewalk leading to the house. Shane steps out, then looks back at Ryan, "Aren't you coming?"
  Ryan blinks, "Why would I?"
  "Make sure I get to the door safely. For goodness' sake, Ryan, if I can't drive myself, what makes you think I can walk straight."
  "Bullshit, you just want me to go near that house."
  Shane's face splits into a wide grin, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
  "Get it over with." Ryan says, climbing out of the car.
  With more than a little swagger to his step, Shane leads the way. Both men, however, stop in their tracks as a crashing sound is heard, coming from within the house.
  Ryan doesn't dare blink, "What-?"
  One of the lights turns on. Ryan recognizes it as being the bedroom window.
  "Well." Shane says, "Leave a door unlocked for a few hours, and this is what happens." Ryan doesn't miss the note of unease in the other man's voice. Unbelievably, Shane continues to walk towards the front door.
  "What are you doing?!" Ryan hisses.
  "Well, we should probably kick them out." Shane explains, as if it were obvious.
  "No, we call the cops."
  "You do that, then."
  Ryan pulls out his phone as Shane foolishly enters the house. Before Ryan can pull up the keypad, he hears Shane exclaim, "Holy shit!"
  Ryan can't help it, "What's wrong?" Not waiting for an answer, feet with a mind of their own, Ryan walks through the darkened doorway.
  More crashes are coming from one of the other rooms, people yelling, grunting, as Ryan turns on his phone's light. All along the walls of the living room are pentagrams, the smell of spray-paint permeating the air, making Ryan dizzy. He can feel his hands start to shake, and he thinks he's gonna puke.
  Shane turns to him, pale in the light, "We should leave."
  The bedroom door shakes, the voices on the other side increasing in volume until-
  -silence.
  Simultaneously, the front door slams shut as the one to the bedroom swings open, bouncing off the wall and sending small chunks of plaster flying. It takes a moment for Ryan's eyes and mind to come to the same conclusion, that within the room, standing around the body of a man, crumpled on the floor, are three men. It takes a second longer for Ryan to realize who these men are.
  The eyes of infamous killers Sam and Dean Winchester, and missing person James Novak, stare back at them.
  Shane runs to the front door, trying for the lock. The door wiggles and shakes against the frame, and Ryan can tell it's not budging. "Come on, COME ON!" Shane grunts.
  "That's not gonna work." Dean Winchester, the shorter of the brothers, says, "Bastard is keeping that, and all the other doors, shut. We're on lock-down."
  "How did you do that?" Ryan chokes out, impressed with himself that he can say anything at all.
  "Let us out." Shane rejoins Ryan, standing side-by-side.
  Dean grimly laughs, "Would if I could. Last thing I want is for a couple of vloggers getting in the way."
  "We were just returning a key." Ryan doesn't know what else to do, what to say.
  The tallest of the trio, Sam, comes walking towards Ryan and Shane, hands held out in submission, a container of table-salt in his right, "I'm not gonna hurt you, but we need to get you guys in a safe place."
  Shane isn't so convinced, "And what's 'safe', exactly?"
  "Within a ring of salt." Sam answers.
  "Oh, god." Shane groans, "Don't tell me- you're dealing with Demons?"
  Ryan turns to his friend, "Why would you suggest that? What is wrong with you?!"
  "Um, yeah." Sam grimaces, "I realize that's gonna be... a bit of a problem..."
  Ryan can already begin to feel his heart race, palms sweating and legs becoming like lead, "No, this can't be real."
  "We don't have time for this." James Novak says, and the sheer fact he's in the room, saying anything at all, brings Ryan that much closer to a panic attack. He doesn't even flinch when Novak uses a gun, Ryan has no clue what kind, to direct where he and Shane should go.
  At the appearance of the weapon, Shane's tune changes, "You know what? Fine. Demons are real, where do you want us to stand?"
  This snaps Ryan out of it, "Wait, so it takes spending five minutes with serial killers to convince you, but I can't?!"
  "They have guns, Ryan. They could sell me a piece of the moon and I'd write them a check."
  Ignoring the banter, Sam pours a circle of salt around the two men, "No matter what happens, stay in this circle."
  "Who are you people?" Ryan asks, feeling unusually brave.
  "Not what you think." Sam replies.
  "We're Hunters." Dean states, chin up in pride.
  "Hunters of what?" Shane asks.
  "Monsters, ghosts, Demons." James Novak replies.
  "And how'd you get involved?" Ryan asks Novak, "Where's your wife?"
  Novak tilts his head, "The Djinn Queen?"
  "They were doing a video on Jimmy, remember?" Dean says.
  Ryan pales, "You- you saw the leak?"
  "That you spoke of the Novaks, yes." not-Novak answers.
  Annoyed, Shane goes, "If you're not James Novak, who are you?"
  "Castiel. I'm- was, an Angel."
  "Was." Shane nods, "So, not anymore?"
  Castiel shakes his head.
  "Meaning," Shane continues, "There's no way to prove with, say, magic tricks, your claims?"
  "Stop needling the serial killers." Ryan hisses.
  "You mean monster hunters." Shane sarcastically corrects.
  "I'm sorry about my friend." Ryan announces, "He's kind of a dick."
  "You don't say." Dean deadpans.
  "Hey, is it true," Shane starts, "that you and Columbo over there are knockin' boots?"
  Castiel stares down at his shoes, while Dean goes red and Sam sucks in a breath, trying not to laugh.
  "You're insane." Ryan says to the air, unable to look at Shane.
  "Might as well find out." Shane shrugs.
  "Dean," says Castiel, "I apologize if, at any time during the evening, I've stepped on your toes."
  Dean looks to age five years in as many seconds, "No problem, Cas."
  "And that man, in there?" Shane asks, "He's just sleeping, right?"
  "He was dead before he hit the ground." Castiel responds, "We never know for sure, when there’s a Demon present."
  This information makes Shane falter, if only a little, "And why do only we need to be in the salt circle?"
  Dean and Sam pull down their shirt collars, revealing pentagrams tattooed in black ink, just above their hearts. Castiel lifts up the hem of his shirt, revealing several lines of text written in a foreign language. "We're good. And unless one of y'all's a tattoo artist… ?" Dean says.
  "No." Shane relents, "You still can't prove it, but whatever."
  "You are exhausting." Ryan says.
  "I'm thorough."
  "Shut up, Shane."
  "That's enough!" Dean barks, "We're dealing with a fucking Demon, now act like it." he glares at his two companions. As the trio resumes their work, Shane and Ryan are left in silence.
  "You gonna try your phone?" Shane mutters.
  "No, they've got guns." Ryan responds, "I think they can draw faster than I can dial."
  After a few minutes of tense silence, Shane pats Ryan's arm, getting his attention. Turning to him, Ryan mouths 'What?' while following Shane's gaze. Down the hall, leading all the way to the back of the house, is the only other door leading outside.
  It's open.
  Glancing at one another, the intent is understood; at least one of them can make it out. Knowing Shane's got the longer legs, Ryan figures he'll have a better chance, so he prods at Shane's back, encouraging him to make a break for it.
  Shane sprints for the door, and is at the other end of the hallway by the time the Winchesters or Castiel notice. Ryan doesn't see the trio's reactions, though, focusing on whether or not his friend escapes.
  Shane opens the door wider, gets one foot on the first concrete step-
  Cold air fills the room, enveloping every inch of Ryan's skin. The room grows darker, like someone's dimming down the lights. Every breath he inhales is freezing, and every exhale the same temperature. It's like Ryan's overcome with a sudden fever, left weak and in a cold sweat. Arms and legs locked in place, he can feel his heart slow...
  "RYAN!"
  Dean looks from one idiot to the other; the tall one that tried to leave the house, in what was obviously a trap set up by the Demon, and the second, shorter one that was in the broken salt circle, currently having a long stream of black smoke rush into his throat.
  The Demon's found a new body.
  "RYAN!" Shane shouts, and for all his smart-ass quips, the tall one wasn't that sharp. Perfect opportunity to get the fuck out and leave things to the pros, but he's gone and pissed that away. Dean feels his lip twitch into a smirk, realizing he'd do the same if it was his family. Hand closing around the Angel blade, his smile falters.
  Ryan collapses to the ground, still as stone. Sam intercepts Shane, who tries to rush to his friend's side. "What did you do?!" Shane yells.
  "Stay back!" Castiel shouts, charging forward with more salt. Dean's stomach jumps with worry at the sight of Castiel going in on his own. Old habits of being an Angel, thinking himself indestructible. Dean begins reciting the exorcism, his Latin clunky, as always. Smoke begins to spill from the corners of Ryan's mouth as Castiel approaches.
  A hand suddenly lashes out, striking Castiel with such ferocity it throws the man clean across the room. Dean continues the exorcism, mind on autopilot, as he looks to see if Castiel is still in the fight. The former Angel knocked out cold, Dean turns his head just in time to see Ryan's hand extend out towards him.
  "I'm tired of playing with you." the Demon smirks a toothy grim, causing Ryan's brown eyes to flash to black.
  Dean feels his feet lift from the floor, and in a blur of speed, his body be thrown up against the ceiling. Pinned here, and momentarily stunned, Dean tries in vain to continue the exorcism.
  "Shut up." the Demon hisses.
  Dean's voice dies away. He can only watch as Sam tries to take the Demon on.
  Angel blade in hand, Sam goes in, and Dean can tell Sam isn't looking for a kill shot. Swipes, stabs and arcs to distract, but none fatal. Maybe he's hoping for Castiel to wake, maybe he hopes the Demon can't concentrate on more than one Hunter at a time. It's not a bad strategy.
  One slice too close to Ryan's neck makes Shane rush forward, spin Sam around, and snatch the blade from Sam's stunned hand. "What are you doing-?"
  Both men are sent crashing to the floor, as the Demon steps out of the remains of the salt circle. Cracking knuckles and stretching arms, Ryan's lips curve into a smile, as Dean realizes what's coming next:
  Villain monologue.
  "Winchesters, your reputations proceed you." Ryan walks over to Castiel, who's starting to stir, "Here I am, with my humble, little set-up, and here you are, sticking your noses where they don't belong." He presses a boot against Castiel's neck, pinning him to the wall, "Don't you have bigger fish to fry? A God to fight?"
  Castiel gasps for breath, and Dean struggles to free his arms, legs, willing any muscle to move.
  "I'm a nobody." the Demon laughs, "I should be dead, right now. You all have lost your touch."
  Shane slowly starts to rise from the floor, trying not to get the Demon's attention.
  Ryan's head snaps in Shane's direction, "Shane! Buddy! How ya been?" with a hard kick to Castiel's head, Ryan begins to calmly walk over.
  Shane tries for the door, and it looks like Sam was right; it's unlocked, and the Demon can't focus on more than a few things at a time.
  With that, Dean frees his arm, can move his lips. He starts the exorcism from the top.
  "WHAT DID I SAY." the Demon bellows, waving his hand towards Dean, again. This time, Dean's throat closes up.
  Sam continues the exorcism from his place on the ground.
  Ryan waves his hand again, throwing Sam into the room with the man's corpse.
  Castiel, blood pouring out of his mouth, picks up the chant where Sam left off. The Demon is so distracted, Dean's able to get free. Bracing himself, Dean falls to the floor, and, after a few shaky seconds, joins Castiel.
  Teeth clenched, veins pulsing, Ryan yells, "ENOUGH!" sending both men staggering back, falling to the ground, and then pressed up against the wall.
  The front door bursts open. Dean cannot, for the life of him, believe that the tall idiot's back.
  "Hey! Dumbass!" Shane calls.
  The Demon turns to look at him.
  Dean, thinking he's seen it all, and can't be surprised anymore, tonight, feels his jaw drop.
  "Do you want to di-" Ryan starts, just before Shane douses him with a water gun.
  The screams coming from Ryan are simply inhuman. Smoke rises from his skin, as he covers his face. The air, already pungent with sulfur, becomes insufferable.
  Sam staggers from the back room, finishing the exorcism.
  A rush of smoke exits through Ryan's mouth, the pained scream still echoing off of the walls. And then-
  -silence.
  Shane considers the squirt gun in his hand, then looks back up at the trio of Hunters staring at him. "It's- it's filled with holy water." he gestures to an unconscious Ryan, "His idea."
  "So, you're really monster hunters?" Shane asks, wincing at the alcohol being applied to his scraped knees. They were the worst of the gashes on him, sustained when the Demon threw Sam on top of him.
  "Yes." Sam replies, taking a bandage from the Impala's first aid kit. Shane had gotten Ryan, who was still out, in the rental car, and parked that just behind the Chevy. Everyone is now taking a breather before parting ways.
  "So, not serial killers?"
  "No."
  Shane pauses, "Sorry, about taking your knife. I just didn't want you stabbing my friend."
  "You ended up saving all of us, so I think we're square." Sam looks over to the open trunk lid, behind which Dean and Castiel were securing the corpse the Demon had initially possessed.
  "Ryan's gonna be unbearable when he wakes, you know." Shane says, "'Ooh! Demons are real! We don't have it on camera, but it happened!'"
  "Will you keep doing the show?" Sam asks, trying not to sound too eager.
  "Probably. Ryan'll want to catch lightning in a bottle twice, but never do another Demon location, again."
  "You sound disappointed."
  Shane shrugs, "It's fun seeing him scared."
  Sam shakes his head.
  "So," Shane begins, "You watch the show."
  "... maybe."
  "How many of the places we visit are actually haunted?"
  Sam thinks, "Most were, but we, or other Hunters we know, cleared 'em."
  "Huh."
  After saying their goodbyes, and with the understanding that no one would believe Ryan and Shane if they tried to profit off of their Demon encounter, the two groups part ways. The Hunter trio climb back into the Impala, but not before Dean throws Sam the keys.
  "I'm spent." Dean explains, "You take over for a while." Dean also opens the back door for Castiel, but only when he thinks Sam isn't watching. Dean crawls in after him, and does everything he can to not meet Sam's eyes in the mirror.
  It's a half hour later, when on the highway, heading towards the Bunker, that Dean tries to make amends.
  "Cas-" Dean starts, voice just above a whisper.
  Castiel grabs his hand, both are dried and crusted with blood, "I'm sorry." he mouths, "For everything."
  "No." Dean fails to keep the break out of his voice, "I'm sorry. You're family, Cas. Nothing's gonna change that."
  Castiel looks away, and Dean knows from personal experience what he's trying to hide.
  "I miss Jack." Comes Castiel's broken sob.
  Dean squeezes his hand, "I know. I do, too. I should've done more."
  "We should have." Castiel corrects.
  They sit together in a bittersweet silence. The car interior is dark, the rumbling of the road beneath their feet thunderous, and Sam's eyes on the road. Dean and Castiel are in their own little world.
  "I love you." the words spill from Dean's mouth before he can stop them, and funny enough, he doesn't regret it, or treat it like a mistake. It's been years in the making, really. And when Castiel looks back at him, eyes wide with wonder, and more than a little red from fatigue, Dean just brings their joined hands up to his lips, and gives the back of Castiel's palm a gentle kiss. Castiel leans in, meeting Dean forehead-to-forehead, "I love you, too."
  Shane's pulling up to the hotel parking lot when Ryan finally wakes.
  "Ugh, god." Ryan rubs at his eyes, "What a fuckin' nightmare."
  Shane puts the car in park, turning off the engine, "What do ya mean, buddy?"
  Ryan looks over at Shane, then around the rest of the car, "Wait, didn't we go by the Wyatt house, and drop off some keys?"
  "Yep."
  "And I was driving."
  "Uh-huh."
  Ryan blinks, "Did I hit my head or something?"
  "No, we met up with serial killers Sam and Dean Winchester, along with missing person James Novak, and took on a Demon. You got possessed."
  Ryan's face screws up in disbelief, "Very funny, asshat."
  "No!" Shane insists, "It really happened."
  "Bullshit."
  "Then, what was your nightmare about?"
   "Getting chased by a rabid Paddington." Ryan replies, his eyes glazed over in a haunted stare.
   Shane throws his hands up, "Fine, we’ll go with that."
________________________________________________________________
  Thank you!! For reading!! ♥♥♥
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0chronophobia0 · 6 years ago
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;; How do you imagine kurono relationship with each one of the members of the precepts?
-insert eyes emoji + sparkling emoji- this will be fun
ps- sorry this took so long to respond andlkjafkbhsegkb I fell asleep like 3 times while writing this and got distracted several times by philkas and malec
——–
Chisaki Kai (Overhaul) 
So, it is normal to see Kurono hanging out in the background when Chisaki is in the room, as he’s always following him around in case he needs anything at all, Overhaul’s thirsty? He’s got him covered, Fiji water for the best boss on earth 
Kurono has such a high admiration towards him, you’ll be able to catch him gazing at Chisaki and melting every time they lock stares, you’ll be able to view the exact moment Hari spills his uwus every time Kai looks at him
Would never dare address him as Chisaki or Kai though, he’d be dead where he stands if he did, he respects Kai too much, and therefore only calls him Overhaul, though sometimes he might slip but pick himself up before he can call him by his name, he’s slick and therefore able to distract Chisaki when stuff like this happens 
They’ve known each other for the longest time, Kurono knows almost everything about Chisaki and views him as his best friend, yet Chisaki has a hard time admitting he too sees Hari as his friend, but it is not as if it bothers Hari, as he is completely fine with the fact that Kai doesn’t view him as highly as he does, or so he thinks, Kai’s the boss anyway so it SHOULD be this way, right? 
Irinaka Joi (Mimic) 
Their relationship is… complicated. like they are friends but they are not at the same time.
They’re both very competitive when it comes to being the best co-leader of the Shie hassaikai, they’ve got this silent game where they are always trying to outsmart each other, well more like it is Kurono trying to be better than Irinaka and getting frustrated when Joi receives praise and he doesn’t, but Hari ain’t gonna complain because complaining will lead him nowhere. 
definitely takes advantage on the fact he’s very obviously Chisaki’s favorite to make sure Irinaka goes through a pranks hell, you bet Mimic was woken up in a daycare with other toys just as kids come racing in, of course, he can’t do much other than escape and assist work late because goddamn Hari had to so kindly deliver him to some children which pulled at his little arms and legs and drenched him in saliva, and also stabbed bows into his head, you know, peachy, has to burn that body afterwards because there’s no way in hell Kai will let him get close to him, so many fucking germs.
overall though, they are able to hold a serious conversation, but if they are left alone for too long Kurono might start pushing Joi’s buttons until the room becomes a battlefield.
when Kurono is angry he will pick up Mimic and throw him against a wall, it doesn’t hurt him much so… gotta take advantage of that.
Nemoto Shin
oh boy, oooooooohhhh boy. when you see these two together, you know you gotta be scared, be very afraid, they are NOT here for good, don’t move, don’t shake, don’t speak, don’t even b r e a t h e, one wrong move and you’re fucking dead
Together, they’re like those popular beautiful stereotypical blond high school girls, sarcasm is their virtue, and you bet they know every flaw about you, the moment they get together, and they land their eyes on you, you’re dead meat, so bitch you better go perfectly still or hoe, you already fckn ded.
Nemoto is Kurono’s go-to friend, since you know… Chisaki isn’t exactly the best best friend, Kurono has Nemoto to back him up whenever he needs something Kai can’t provide, aka something emotional or physical, Hari finds Shin lots of fun and it isn’t rare to catch them talking when Chisaki is nowhere to be seen, or even laughing with each other.
They do tend to keep things strictly professional around Chisaki or Irinaka though, often meeting up right after to talk about whatever and chitchat 
It may not seem like it, but Kurono loves drama, and who better than Nemoto to make people spill the tea? His quirk’s name should be tea spiller, not Confession, and honestly? Hari loves it, something he will more than proudly admit 
When the situation is given, they both flirt with each other and call each other lovey nicknames, you know like… “asshole”, “dickhead”, and occasionally they address each other as “boo” but that’s more of a friendly thing
None of them talk about it but once they got so high together the next day they woke up in the same bed, luckily fully dressed, but it ain’t like either of them cares, it is simply that Chisaki would kill Hari if he knew this.
Sakaki Deidoro
Well there isn’t much to say about Kurono’s relationship with him, other than he occasionally tagging along with him and Nemoto to go bar hopping incognito at 3 AM while Chisaki is asleep, Kurono often being forced to take a thorough shower when he gets back because the smell of alcohol isn’t something Chisaki likes to find on his #1 assistant 
For the most part, their relationship is due to work, as Kurono doesn’t see himself to be great friends with him, but still is willing to socialize with him, after all, he isn’t supposed to form strong bonds/relationships with the expendable bullets of the yakuza
Rikiya Katsukame
Again, there isn’t much to say, Hari things Rikiya is hot, he’s tall, muscular, and able to burst through a wall very easily, Kurono finds that amusing, and therefore is often seen checking him out with Nemoto, who simply agrees and adds on lmao.
_Doesn’t even talk to him tho unless it’s job-related, though sometimes he might tell him he’s done a good job after accomplishing a mission and leaves right after_
Hekiji Tengai
so, their relationship is quite complicated, since there are times Hari is responsible, stoic, and well-mannered, which is when he gets along with Tengai, they will talk politely over a cup of hot chocolate and Kurono will keep him up to date with anything he knows
but then there is when Kurono is in the mood to mess with everyone and you bet Tengai is his go-to target
Hari will tease him non-stop and make sure Tengai regrets seeing him that day, though when overhaul walks in he can’t say shit since by the end of the day he’s just another expendable serving under their command, and it’s not like Hari bothers him that much, as it is mostly just Kurono budging him and likely to get slapped, which only causes Hari to laugh whenever he’d get hit after annoying him
Rappa Kendou
Hari’s #3 favorite tbh, like, he simply likes this guy, there are no reasons why. Actually, there is, and it is that Rappa is simply a big puppy? You know, the kind to destroy your house while you’re gone and wants to bite everything with its little hurtfully sharp teeth? That Rappa to Hari
He’s so big,,,, Kurono loves that, he loves having to look up to stare at him in the face, he loves his strong build, he loves his arms, oh god his arms
you bet Kurono loves praising Rappa, whenever he fights, after overhaul, he is the first one to get a piece of Hari’s mind about his well-done job, thus boosting the guy’s ego, he often finds himself being able to control him better than many, this thanks to his quirk quick practically paralyzes him? until he’s calmed down
Kurono loves his gigantic pupper, you bet that Hari spoils him, Rappa is a good guy, if only he didn’t want to fight everyone to literal death, and that’s something Kurono acknowledges and finds amusing, he does his own thing, and doesn’t like being put into teams, as it has been seen before, but we all know Hari would not say no to overhaul
Setsuno Toya
Toya, Hari, and Shin are the mean girls of the Shie hassaikai, Hari is Regina George, Shin is Gretchen Weiners, and Toya is Karen Smith, he has the least power out of the three, but he’s nice to have around so they keep him in the group lmao
Kurono talks to Toya more through text than face to face, mostly because they send each other lots of memes and funny/ugly selfies, they also make mischievous plans to mess with Overhaul almost every day, and rarely have they been caught
Setsuno allows Hari to take his phone and send Overhaul vines asking him to see them, after all, Toya is suicidal, so he’s got nothing to lose, and even though Kurono appreciates Setsuno as a pal, he knows he can’t get attached, and therefore just does as he wants
though when Setsuno needs help, Kurono is more than willing to offer himself first, he may not be very good with advice and emotions though, but he is a good listener and will sit and hear him out through every rant along with a cup of hot chocolate 
They once made a plan together to prank overhaul and Kurono replaced Chisaki’s usual black surgeon mask with one that said ‘owo’ one morning and paid Toya to go up to him and say “good mowning mitew owohauw” and record it, but in addition to that, which made the video way better, Overhaul replied with a sigh, and in a very disappointed tone… “hewwo” 
Soramitsu Tabe
chompy boie, Kurono doesn’t usually talk to him, but sometimes he will bring the weirdest foods and feed them to Tabe just for fun 
He likes to invite him and Hojo when he hands out with Setsuno, since they are Toya’s friends, and together they will find reckless/fun stuff to do, of course, Overhaul never knows that Hari tags along with them, they keep Kurono covered -insert thumbs up emoji- 
Once, Hari gathered all the precepts and made them sit in a circle around Tabe and brought in a deep fried sock, together they all chanted until Tabe was so overwhelmed he ended up eating the sock
Yu Hojo
welp, Hojo is one of the only people he actually maintains a calm and professional relationship with, unless the gang gets together, but that’s another story
They chat and discuss about serious topics, sometimes Tengai will join them, and they’ll have a nice and calm time spent together but that’s about all they do
They also read novels and watch those dramatic Mexican novellas, and it is normal to see them talk about them, Hari knows Spanish and has tried teaching Hojo, but his accent is poor and his pronunciation is hopeless, though Hari still tries to teach him and Hojo tries even harder to learn
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jamesbucksiclebarnes · 5 years ago
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Rating: Mature: Language, threats of violence.
Chapter List: [1] | [2] | [3] | [4] | [5] | [6] | [7] | [8] | [9] | [10] | [11] | [12] | [13] | [14] | [15] | [16] | [17] | [18] | [19]
[AO3 Link] | [Fic Page]
Tag List: @crossbowking, @khaleesislytherin
SERIES SUMMARY:
"Not human. She was not human. They all knew it. Could almost feel it, but couldn't make sense of it. That was why they were afraid. Not because of what she used to be Before. But because of what she was now."
Having found herself serving as the right-hand to the Governor for too long, Synnove le Jacques does her best to make things right with the people of the Prison. Stuck beside her partner in crime, her irritatingly obnoxious and hideously problematic best friend, Merle, she does her best to fight back against the monster she has let the Governor become.
CHAPTER TITLE: The Path to Dead Man’s Farm.
It was worse than we’d thought.
As we drove along the interstate, watching the fields go by in a sepia blur, it became quite obvious that we were going to need more people to get this job done. Daryl rose ahead, a good few metres in front of Michonne, Glenn, and I in our little sedan. At our backs, Tyreese and his sister, Sasha, drove the truck a handful of car lengths behind. As our little convey grew closer to the turn off that lead down to the first farmhouse, we couldn’t help but notice the biters shuffling through the fields. They began to group together the further along we drove, forming denser packs, almost multiplying in numbers with each passing mile.
By the time the turn off came into view, we knew it was going to be next to impossible to make it down that damn dirt road.
Daryl pulled off to the side, rolling to a stop and lifting his hand to indicate we do the same. Michonne brought the car to a stop beside him and I rolled down my window, opening my mouth to speak but finding myself only able to grimace as the truck behind us came to a halt. The squeak of the breaks was loud enough to draw the attention of a few dozen biters within the fields to our right. Thankfully, as they stumbled toward us, the barbed wire fence made short work of stopping them.
“There’s gotta be more than two-hundred of ‘em,” Daryl remarked, gesturing with one hand toward the dirt road just in view over the slight hill before us.
“Well, I got thirty bullets,” I remarked with a soft grin. “So, I’ll just have to take out six or so for every shot. That’ll be a piece of cake, right?”
Daryl snorted but shook his head, anyway, just in case I was being serious. “Ain’t no way we’re cutting a path for the cars.”
I straightened in my seat in order to peer across Daryl, to the dirt road. Even from this distance, I could see the bobbing heads of biters, so numerous they all but shrouded the horizon with their numbers. A frown formed on my face as I turned to look at Michonne.
“Way I see it, we have two choices. Glenn and Sasha drive while the four of us cut down as many as we can,” I said. “Or, we go home.” And I use way too much magic to grow the crops and likely end up putting my moronic ass in a coma or something equally irritatingly stupid.
Michonne pursed her lips in thought, looking across me at Daryl and lifting a questioning brow. Glenn leant forwards, putting his head in the space between the two front seats and looking at us all in turn.
“Why do I have to drive?” he asked.
“You want the honest answer to that?” I responded, turning in my seat to look at him with a bemused grin. “Maggie would kill us if anything happened to you. Also, it would disappoint Hershel, which is somehow more terrifying a prospect than Maggie’s rage.”
Glenn snorted.
“Hershel will be disappointed if we push on when we know we shouldn’t,” Michonne said plainly, sinking back into her seat.
Behind us, Tyreese climbed out of the truck bed and made his way over to us, coming to a stop beside Daryl’s bike.
“What’s the game plan?” he asked, leaning down in order to peer through my open window at the rest of us.
I glanced at Michonne and Glenn before turning back to the other two with a shrug. “Fuck knows, mate.”
“We could take the truck through, run ‘em down?” Tyreese suggested.
I shook my head the same time Daryl said, “Nah.”
“It might work for a solid minute or two, but sooner or later, you’ll get bogged in corpses,” I said with a grimace. “Which, believe me, will not be pretty.”
Tyreese’s face scrunched into a cringe as he shook his head. “Yeah, maybe not.”
“We could lead them away?” Glenn suggested, giving me and Michonne a hopeful smile.
“Could work,” I responded. “How’d you go about it?”
Glenn glanced down at the sedan’s console, brows furrowing as he reached out a hand to play with one of the buttons on the dusty radio. “We could turn on the music? Lure them down?”
“If you’re comfortable with two-hundred undead groupies following you and your music along, sure,” I remarked with a chuckle.
Glenn frowned, leaning forward a fraction further to look up at Tyreese. “Does the radio work in the truck?”
“Yes,” I answered before Tyreese even had a chance to think on it. When I received a handful of confused looks, I glanced out the window at Daryl with a bemused chuckle. “Merle and I used to take it out on runs. We’d fight over the music.” My gaze slid back across to Tyreese as I gestured with my hand toward the truck itself. “There should be a couple of good ole tapes in the centre consol. Do not touch the ones that have an “M” written on them, unless you want your ears to bleed.”
Daryl snorted at that, which made me smile.
“Alright, I’ll get Sasha to drive to the opening of the road,” Tyreese began with a serious nod. “Once she’s cleared some of them out, the four of us will head down there and cut down what we can.”
“Four? What about me?” Glenn asked with a frown.
“You drive behind us,” I said, looking up at Tyreese to make sure that was where his head had been, too. “Watch our backs and give us an easy out if things get too much.”
Tyreese nodded, a smile slowly stretching across his face. “Exactly.”
We grinned at one another for a moment and I felt myself beginning to wonder if he was starting to believe I wasn’t quite as unnerving as he’d originally thought. The thought made my chest warm slightly. It was nice to think, even just for a moment, that maybe not everyone on the council agreed with Claire.
Daryl kicked the stand on his bike out and slid off the seat, walking around it to stand by my window as Tyreese strode down to the trunk in order to inform his sister of our plans. His eyes were narrowed slightly in the stream of sunlight that cast a hollow shadow across his face as he peered into the car.
“You sure ‘bout this?” he asked us.
I gave a confident nod, as did Michonne. Glenn seemed a little put out, but he lifted his head in response anyway. Daryl’s boots shuffled against the asphalt as he shifted his weight, taking a deep breath and blowing it out through his nose in a sigh.
“Why, you scared, Little Dixon?” I asked, grinning cheekily up at him.
He cocked a thin brow and scoffed. “Like hell.”  
The sound of a slamming door behind us made him straighten, turning to look back as Tyreese made his way toward the car with a fire axe gripped tightly in both of his meaty hands. Daryl pulled his crossbow from his shoulder and stepped back to allow me space to exit the vehicle.
Michonne got out with me, stepping to the back to collect her blade as Glenn crawled through the centre to find his place in the driver’s seat.
“We set?” Tyreese asked, looking between us all as I unsheathed the two knives on my belt.
Michonne secured the strap of her sheath over his shoulders and nodded.
“Keen as a bean,” I remarked, skilfully spinning the two knives in my hands.
Tyreese looked down at them with a small frown before glancing down the road, waving a hand at his sister. Her head was barely visible above the dashboard of the truck as it rumbled to a start.
I looked down at my hands as I spun the knives, pursing my lips in thought. Often, I’d find myself wondering exactly what level of skill I should really be displaying in front of the others. After all, there was no one currently left alive that knew the truth of my previous profession. And I kind of wanted to keep it that way. Which meant, keeping a lid on the extent of my murderous abilities. However, could I truly hold myself back when doing so could potentially put Daryl or Michonne at risk?
These were the kinds of questions that kept me up at night.
As the truck peeled out from its position behind the sedan, Sasha wound down the window and hit play on the radio. Clear as day, loud enough to rattle the windows, the sound of Celine Dion’s voice cut through the silent air like a blade through a biters skull.
Instantly, everyone turned to look at me with a cocked brow. Even Daryl.
I pointed at him. “Don’t you look at me. That’s your brothers.”
His brows rose. “Bullshit.”
“Cross my heart.” My grin widened as Daryl’s look of confusion morphed into an amused smile.
“Bullshit,” he echoed, though more out of surprise than accusation.
“Never would have guessed,” Michonne remarked with an equally amused grin.
“He was a man of many mysteries,” I remarked, chuckling under my breath as I watched Sasha pull the truck over to the opening of the turn off.  
The biters along the road began to shuffle down toward her, kicking up a cloud of dirt as they moved in uncoordinated unison toward the loud sounds coming from the truck. We waited until Sasha had begun to pull away, leading a long line of undead behind her, before we began to move forward.
By the time we got there, Sasha was already almost half a mile down the road, a trail of biters following along to the sounds of Celine Dion’s voice. Glenn rolled to a stop at the opening of the road as Daryl lifted his crossbow and shot an arrow clear through the closest biter’s face. I began to march my way down the dirt path, twirling my knives until I came close enough to strike. Quick as a snake, I thrust my arm out, clearing the two biters on either side of me in one smooth motion. Before they had even hit the ground, I stepped forward, slashing upwards with one hand and slicing a biter’s face near in half before twisting around it to stab another pair through their eye sockets.
Michonne slashed along behind me, followed by Tyreese as he grunted and swung his axe down on biter after biter. Daryl remained a few paces back for the first few before shouldering the crossbow and using both his bowie knife and one of the loose arrows he’d pulled from a biter to clear the way.
Glenn remained at a safe distance, rolling the car along with us as we made slow progress up the dirt road.
The biters out in the fields had begun to shuffle their way over toward the road, too, catching themselves on the barbed wire fence like a group of flies attracted to honey. Though, the more of them that came, the less stable the fence became. I kept half an eye on the wooden posts holding the wire together as I cut my way through biter after biter, noting the way the ground behind the post began to move as the wood was pushed forwards.
We were far enough down the dirt road that the farmhouse was clear in view, barely half a mile away. All we needed to do was reach it before those fences gave way.
#
Luck, as it turned out, was not on our side.
We’d barely made it another ten or so feet down the dirt road before I heard the tell-tale sound of splintering wood. It was slight enough that I knew I was the only one that heard it, barely loud enough to catch my attention over the gargling biters and Tyreese, Michonne, and Daryl’s grunts of effort as they sliced and diced their way down the path.
I stabbed and slashed at the two biters between me and Daryl faster than what was likely humanly possible, reaching out to catch his arm. Before he could even turn to face me, I began yanking him backward, toward the car.
“Ty! Michonne! The car! Now!”
None of them argued. My tone of voice left no room for disagreement.
As we moved toward the car, I waved at Glen to move aside. He put the car in park and slid between the two seats, pushing open the door for Michonne and Ty to climb in beside him. I let go of Daryl only long enough for him to make a move toward the passenger’s side whilst I dove into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut on a biter’s outstretched hand. The thing fell into my lap but I paid it no mind as I shoved the car back into gear.
The sound of cracking wood echoed through the air outside, loud enough now that the others could hear it, even through the closed windows. It started behind us. Biters began to surge forward as the wooden posts gave way beneath their weight, trampling over the fallen barbed wire in their path as they went. A morbidly amusing thought came to mind as I watched the fence give way in the rear-view mirror, post after post. It was like a damn Mexican wave of undead, surging onto the dirt road.
I slammed my foot down on the gas, propelling us forward and into the gathered crowd of biters beyond. Bodies crashed against the bonnet of the car as we sped forwards, smashing into the windscreen, spreading spiderwebs across the glass and decorating them with leaking viscera. It got so bad that I could barely see through the layer of blood and gore, which wasn’t great, considering I was speeding forwards at sixty miles an hour down a short dirt road.
Thankfully, I was the one behind the wheel. My keen eyes and lightning fast reflexes enabled me to react at a rate far superior than the average human.
All it took was a glimpse, slight thought it was, to know where I was and what I needed to do. Without warning, I jerked the wheel to the side. The car slid out, drifting sideways down the last stretch of road, knocking back biter after biter until our speed was reduced to almost nothing.
We skid to a stop merely two feet away from the staircase that lead up to the farmhouse’s entrance. Daryl pushed his door open, lifting his crossbow and taking a blind shot at the biter hovering outside before pushing past it and leaping up the first stair.
Michonne, Glenn, and Ty slid out of the back, following Daryl up the staircase. Biters trailed behind them, too busy on their tail to notice that the door to the car had been left open and I was still inside.
There were too many of them for me to even attempt to get through, so I waited until I heard the front door slam open and then shut before I made my move.
I leant back in my seat and kicked out at the cracks in the windshield, shattering the glass with enough force to pop out the window’s frame. Cautiously, I climbed through and onto the bonnet. The metal was slick with blood. My boots barely had enough grip to counter it, though it thankfully made it a lot more difficult for the biters to climb up alongside me.
They noticed my presence instantly, turning away from the front door of the farmhouse and all but throwing themselves down the staircase toward me. From the road, more and more of them flooded forwards, crashing into the side of the car with enough force to rock it from side to side.
I almost lost my balance as I stepped toward the house, looking up at the overhanging eave that kept the porch shielded from the midday sun.
“Syn! Let me go! She’s still out there! Syn!”
I heard Daryl’s voice screaming from inside the farmhouse and swallowed back against my rising trepidation. The car was rocking violently now, as if I were standing atop a boat in the midst of an ocean storm.
Without thinking about how difficult a jump like this would have been for any regular person, I leapt, reaching my hands out to grip onto the eave’s guttering. Using my body’s momentum, I swung back, simultaneously using my grip to pull myself up and onto the overhanging roof. I scrambled up onto the tiles, cautious not to disrupt them from their placing as I climbed onto my feet.
I could hear rapid footfalls from inside, growing louder and louder until Daryl’s panicked face appeared through the glass of the second story window before me. He reached down and unlatched it, pulling half of the frame up as I made my way up the slight slant of the roof toward him.  
Once I was close enough, he stepped back to give me enough room to slide inside.
Michonne, Glenn and Ty appeared in the doorway of what appeared to be a teenage girl’s bedroom, their expressions of relief matched only by their exhausted laughs.
“Thought you were a goner for a second there,” Glenn remarked, stepping further in the room in order to slap a hand against my shoulder.
I snorted a laugh. “Ye of little faith.”
Tyreese, leaning against the doorframe, cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to ruin the moment, here, but, uh… Now what?”
I pursed my lips as I turned in place to look back out the window I had climbed in through, taking in the ocean of biters that had rolled in from the fields. They had begun to surround the house, almost mindlessly, as if they were propelled by little more than the very basic need for movement.
“Good question.”
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