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railingsofsorrow · 1 year ago

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(not so) stupid things

[spencer reid x reader]

A/N: hi! this is my entry for the CM meet cute challenge created by the amazing @imagining-in-the-margins

summary: the one where reader is a detective responsible for a case the FBI is called to work on and as they try to make a good first impression, it slips their mind that one of them does not shake hands.

or... based on the eighteenth episode of criminal minds' S8.

pairing: s.reid x gn!reader

w.c: 1.7K

warnings/content: anxiety (implied); case related violence; mentions of injuries and blood; mentions of needles; two awkward people (try) flirting; fluff; language.

navi

masterpost

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“The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.”

“O-oh,” you stutter out, blinking in surprise and immediately drawing your hand back. How could you have forgotten this?

Your boss had told you some important information about the team you were going to work with: the Behavior Analysis Unit. It completely slipped your mind who the “Doctor who doesn't shake hands” was. You just vaguely knew Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi, but the rest was a bunch of strangers you hadn't connected the name to the face yet. That included the Doctor who was giving you a tight-lipped smile and had sputtered out the most quick statistics data you had ever heard.

Did he just said kissing is safer than shaking hands?

The blonde sighed, her glare towards Dr. Reid softening when she turns to you. She offers her hand and you take it with a light chuckle.

“That's just Spencer's way of saying he doesn't shake hands.” She clarifies. “I'm Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ.” She introduced herself and then proceeds to do the same with the rest of the team. You finally connect the name to the face and you feel more at ease.

“Nice to meet you all,” you say. “I've prepared a room for you to set in during the investigation.” You lead them to the bigger roundtable room you had in the station and wait for them to scatter around to start listing the findings of the case you had until now.

They had a quick way of thinking – it was the first thought that went through your mind as you observed each Agent throw a possibility on why the crimes were happening and the reasoning for the M.O as well. It kind of amazed you how connected they seemed to be to have reached that adjustment within themselves.

The first lead took you to a museum. Your main goal there was to find anything on the suspect you've been following. That required you to speak to one of the museum tour guides who apparently had contact with them as you saw in one of the security cameras.

“How long have you been doing this?”

You immediately grimace at the invasive and completely inappropriate question that leaves your mouth. You couldn't help saying stupid shit when you were nervous. The FBI made you nervous. You had been chasing the suspect for more than three months and only now you were able to find a pattern in their behavior. Obviously, you weren't working alone, but you still feel dumb for not having noticed what is clearly obvious in federal agents’ eyes.

“Doing what?”

Your attention snaps back from the crowd of people to him, whose head was slightly tilted in confusion. The question you made escaping your mind for a second. “Oh. I— Actually. You don't have to answer that, I'm sorry.” Cheeks burning and hands sweating weren't a great combo right now. Your witness still hadn't stepped away from the group of children so you had to wait.

“It's okay.” He shrugs, burying his hands on his pockets. His eyes fall into your fidgety hands and he's familiarized with the feeling of being uncomfortable in big crowds. The museum was full, which was unusual according to you. “Mhm, did you mean how long have I been in the FBI?”

You hum quietly, arms folding across your chest.

“Seven years, five months and twenty-one days.” Your lips part in astonishment.

“Seven years?” You ask, dumbfounded. Spencer nods in affirmation. “You look like a college student—” you quickly cover your mouth with a hand, your cursing being muffled by it. “Sorry, I'm sorry. That came out wrong, I just meant that you look young and—”

“No, no, it's okay.” Spencer chuckled, amused by the whole thing. “I do get that a lot. Technically, I am a college student. I'm on my third PhD.”

Have you just met the next Einstein?

“How do you do it?” You say in wonder. “I mean, I went through college one time and I couldn't wait to get far from it as I possibly could and—” you were interrupted by the sound of his laugh, his eyes crinkling at the sides caused you to smile a little. You realize your shoulders were less tense and you could actually feel your feet again.

Spencer clears his throat before responding, his face carries a soft flush and you find it endearing. “I like studying.” Before you can ask him to elaborate, your eyes narrow at the tour guide, who you were supposed to talk to, stealthily disappearing into a hallway. This is how you end up running around a museum chasing someone that had just moved up to be the primer suspect in an ongoing investigation.

“You okay there?” Agent Morgan's voice pulled your gaze away from the medic stitching up your wrist.

Luckily, you and Doctor Reid succeeded in catching the museum tour guide, leading you to find out that the murders in the city were actually premeditated by two people, not just one. But that didn't go smoothly, the unsub — a curious name the BAU used, you've never heard it before — had a knife in their possession. Just as you were about to snatch it away from their reach while Spencer talked him down, your skin earned a slice right on your wrist because you were bold enough to tackle them to the floor.

Not a nice feeling, but you faced similar situations before, so that wasn't out of the ordinary. That didn't mean you enjoyed the feeling of being poked around.

“I'm fine,” you give him a grateful nod. “Just a scratch.” The image of the BAU's genius flash through your brain. “Huh, is Doctor Reid okay? I'm pretty sure he almost got one of these in his face.” You refer to your cut that was currently being dealt with.

Something that you can't recognize twinkle in the Agent's eyes. Amusement? Smugness? “Oh, Reid's alright. He's actually been asking non-stop about y—”

“Morgan.”

You see his smirk increase when Spencer strides over to where you are. The two share a look that you can't translate due to the tickling of the needle in your sensitive skin.

He's sitting beside you in no time and you're about to say that he doesn't have to bother, but he beats you to it.

“Up to 1 in 10 adults struggle with needles. 16% of them actually avoid getting vaccines because of their trypanophobia.” You look at Spencer as he inhales to keep rambling. “Studies show that many people grow out of that fear, but some remain with it.”

“Clearly,” you mumble, embarrassement causing your neck and cheeks to become red.

His eyes widen and he quickly raises his hands, “Oh, no! That's not what I— I didn't mean to—” he sighs as your lips try to hold back a smile. “I tend to say stupid things when I'm nervous.”

The medic says you're good to go and that's your cue to let out the breath you've been holding in instant relief as you can not longer see the needle. You thank them and step out of the ambulance.

“Like claiming that kissing someone is safer than shaking their hand?”

He stumbles upon an answer which takes you to a laughing fit that attracts some attention. You ignore the ugly looks in order to focus on a warm touch on your shoulder, stopping you from bumping into a police officer.

“Sorry, I was messing with you,” you say slightly breathless, your shoulder tingling where his hand lay. “I say stupid things when I'm nervous, too. I guess we have that in common.” Spencer is grinning when he pulls his hand back. You wonder what his thinking as his eyes travel across your features.

Maybe he's finally concluded that I'm a fool.

“Why would you be nervous?” You look away at a passerby to avoid his stare.

“Nothing, I—” he swallows, folding his arms and unfolding them right after. You don't need to be a profiler to realize he's nervous.

Your slow pace halts when he stops following you. You wait for him to sputter out random statistics or literally anything except for what he says next.

“Can I have your number?” He croaks out. “I thought that it wouldn't be unprofessional after the case was over because technically we aren't working anymore and— you know what? Never mind, forget I said—”

“Doctor Reid,” you say carefully. He clips his mouth shut. “Yes, you can have my number.” He lets out a soft oh and you smile. You ruffle through your pockets to find a pen and when you do find, you silently ask for his hand and he raises it towards you, confusion drawing his brows together.

He feels a tickling sensation as you write your number down on his open palm.

“There.” You offer him a smile to which he replies with one of his own as his eyes scan your scribbling on his hand. A vibration in your blazer forces a heavy sigh to leave your lips. You apologize as you grab your phone. “Ah, yes. I'm— I'll be there.” You turn to Spencer with a disappointed look after the call ends. “Sorry, I have a lot of reports to finish and they need me in the station.”

“It's okay.” He nods. “I understand.”

You don't leave right away though, hesitating in your step. He just as awkwardly stands there. Are you back in high school or something? When have you ever been that shy?

“So, I'll see you around?” You ask.

He outstretches a hand to your surprise, “Yes.” When you accept it, your fingers tingle at his soft skin. Both of you draw yourselves back at the same time. “Bye, Detective.”

You wave at him, already retracting to leave to avoid further embarrassment. “Bye, Doctor.”

You can't help the giddy feeling in your chest as you walk back to your car. A few hours later, your phone screen flashes with an unknown number.

#mentioningmargins #reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb

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lucid-loves · 9 months ago

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First Light ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 2

Pairing: bodyguard!Ghost x princess!reader (fem!reader)

Word Count: 4.4k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, verbal abuse by parents, physical abuse by parents, psychological abuse by parents, opposites attract, forbidden love, slow burn, fluff, attraction and sexual tension, reader POV and ghost POV, minors DNI, eventual smut, virgin reader

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After receiving death threats from a mysterious terrorist organization, your royal parents make a decision to reach out to the United States for help. Specifically, they want the US to send a bodyguard to protect their precious princess. When the 141 is called upon to investigate, Ghost is the one assigned to protect you. With your lack of experiences outside of your royal life and his experience with nothing but deadly, worldly affairs, opposites attract.

Chapter Synopsis: You and Ghost have grown more comfortable with each other as both of you got used to a new routine. However, a sudden party announcement along with a marriage proposal from a new bachelor drives the both of you to become even closer.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7

It’s been a couple weeks since Ghost was introduced to you as your new bodyguard. The first few days were rough as Ghost spent most of his time understanding the palace layout and your daily schedules. Once he got more familiar with the entire place, though, he was much more relaxed. He got used to following close behind you all while understanding where to go if things went south. He took his job of protecting you very seriously, especially after getting to know you little by little.

You settled into the new addition to your routine nicely. While it was awkward trying to figure out what to talk about around bedtime, you always ended up finding something to open up about. Ghost always listened carefully.

At the end of the day, you both still managed to keep your distance. Besides the occasional stolen glances, the both of you were good about maintaining some professionalism. Even during tea time when he would accept your offer to sit with you. You normally didn’t speak about anything too specific since you didn’t want to get in trouble, so most of that time was enjoyed in complete silence. Ghost never minded. He understood that you had to be selective with your words. Sometimes, he admired how seriously you took your responsibilities as well.

It was a rainy day when you were given a revised schedule to follow for the next few days, one that had you raise your brows as soon as you saw how even more unusually packed it was. Your independent study time was scrapped. You didn’t have to attend piano lessons anymore either. Instead, they were replaced with etiquette-type classes. Table setting, conversation practice, ballroom dancing. Everything pointed to the preparation of a party.

As you looked over your schedule, the room was silent save for the patter of rain against the glass. Thunder lightly rumbled in the distance. Your mother sat across from you, giving you time to drink it all in. Ghost stood behind you near the shadows, watching everything unfold.

When you were done comprehending your schedule, you looked up at your mother inquisitively. “What is the occasion?”

“There is a gentleman that we have been communicating with who has recently entered the country for a trip abroad. He is an exceptional bachelor with the money and status to support a proper lifestyle. He sent an invitation for tea with us, but we figured that an important man like him needed a more memorable experience in Stuoca.” Your mother cheerfully explained, clearly excited for this party. She sipped her tea, proud of herself for orchestrating such an event to happen.

You picked up your favorite teacup and gripped it firmly. The warmth of the tea passing the porcelain and into your palms provided you comfort as your head swirled. Your mother wasn’t explicit in her intentions of this party and it bothered you. Reading into her words, you knew what she intended for you, though.

“You are marrying me off.” You revealed, your eyes widening at your little slip. You meant to choose better words, but perhaps you were growing too bitter to think straight. Ghost, who was listening intently, was now fully at attention like he was called by his captain.

At first, he listened for information. An outside party needed to be investigated in order to keep you safe. He didn’t pick up on what your mother was implying in the midst of it. When you exposed this truth, that’s when he grew rigid.

“Come now, you shouldn’t say it like that. We are securing your future. If you want to maintain the life that you have, then it would be good to marry. Besides, you are not getting any younger.” The queen jabbed with a bright smile. Her implicit insult stung.

Your mother was always like this. She was even more subtle in front of your father, so this was actually rather explicit of her. You had to bite your tongue to avoid letting your bitterness seep out once more. “My apologies. I am just surprised that this is happening so quickly.”

Her gaze sharpened as she graded your sincerity. It wasn’t like you had lied, but you avoided telling the full truth on how you felt. Your mother scoffed as you failed to exchange more grateful words with her. “This is for the best. You should be appreciative of this effort. Most women your age have to search for their security all by themselves. They rarely find the perfect one on the first try too. You're lucky that you won’t have to go through the pain of that.”

You bit your cheek hard to avoid an outburst, a metallic taste on your tastebuds. You didn’t say anything as your mother got up and left the room, allowing you to finish your teatime all by yourself. This was her idea of a punishment. If you couldn’t be grateful for her time, then she would give you only a little of her time. Little did she know that you preferred it when she gave you none of her time at all.

As soon as the door was completely closed and her heels clicked further down the hall, you buried your face in your hands. You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or break the throw the expensive teapot out of the window. The stinging in your chest grew to a malicious weight, making you feel like you were drowning. You already had so little control of your life. Now you were expected to give up your life to a man you didn’t know.

“Princess?” A deep yet soft voice called out. You looked up only to find Ghost sitting on the couch across from you. Lightning flashed from the window followed by a bellowing rumble. Your breath caught in your throat as he looked at you with a patient gaze. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what to say.

Actually, he knew exactly what he wanted to say. He wanted to go up to your mother and rip her a new one. It wasn’t like you were withering away from old age like your mother seemed to think. You were young, intelligent, skilled. For someone that dedicated your schedule on a regular basis, she sure didn’t know a thing about you. From what Ghost had seen from you in the past two weeks, you were very much capable of handling yourself or learning quickly how to.

Ghost could say a million things. The problem was that none of those words may be the right words you needed. Your world was different from his and he was still trying to figure it out. Saying what he wanted to say from his perspective may not have been appropriate or helpful to you.

Finally, you spoke up. Your tone was quiet and grave. “My apologies that you had to overhear that conversation. I shouldn’t be surprised that my parents are ready for me to marry. I just never expected that I would be the one having to do the impressing.”

You were right. Why should you be the one having to dance for this stranger? It should be him that should be trying to impress you. Ghost poured himself some tea, thinking about how backwards this all seemed. “You don’t know anything about this man, right? Your parents have never mentioned him before today?”

“No. They don’t usually say anything to me until events are just around the corner. I don’t have much of a social life outside of the palace walls either, so there wouldn’t be any way for me to really know this bachelor’s true character.” You began thinking more clearly, Ghost’s questions actually helping you approach this much more tactfully. It was like he was helping you come up with a plan.

“You don’t want to marry this guy or just in general?” He asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. It was a rather personal question, one that would have to be kept secret between the both of you.

You paused, thinking about his question very carefully. Once again, he was trying to get to know how you really felt about things. Ghost seemed to be the only one in the palace that genuinely wanted to know what you thought. After a sip of warm, slightly sweet tea, you gave him your truth.

A truth that a princess would give too. “I want to marry who I choose and I would choose out of love. I refuse to marry someone that I do not love. This potential bachelor. . . who is to say that I would not fall in love with him the moment I lay my eyes on him? Though, I do doubt this. I am unsure if I could trust his potential personality if the only people who could vouch for him are my parents. Their values in a partner may not reflect my own.”

Ghost has been getting better at deciphering your cryptic princess language. From what he understood, you didn’t reject the idea of marriage. You just wanted it to be out of your own choice of love. A reasonable answer. A bit romantic too. Like a true princess, you believed that love at first sight was possible. Ghost didn’t think he could agree with that. Though, your hint at valuing certain characteristics in a potential spouse piqued his interest in a way he couldn’t explain. “What do you value?”

For a moment, you looked out the window, another flash of lightning illuminating the rainy gray outside. As the light hit your features for a brief moment, Ghost felt his heart skip a beat. Now, you were giving a daydreaming, sweet smile. “I value courage, ambition, and openly high morals. Someone that isn’t afraid of pursuing their passions, satiating their curiosities appropriately, and standing up for what is right. Someone that I could grow alongside with their complete support. Someone that would not only see me as a lover, but as my own person too.”

He couldn’t help but feel his face grow a little warm as you described your ideal man. Though he couldn’t say he checked off all of those boxes, a part of him did feel like you were describing someone like him, even if you didn’t know it. At the very least, you obviously wanted someone that could put their money where their mouth was. Someone with bark and bite.

Not that he would actively pursue you. He lightly shook his head while you weren’t looking, ridding his thoughts of the idea of him being the perfect man for you. “It sounds like you know what you want.”

Those words gave you courage for some reason. Confidence. It surprised you to be filled with such confidence from that simple sentence alone. You looked towards Ghost, your breath hitching slightly as he stared at you with those blue eyes of his. “Yes, I do know what I want.”

“I’ll help you however I can, then. I’m going to run background checks on this guy. Checks on everyone that received an invite as well. I’ll make sure that you are only present at the party for strictly one hour. I still have my job to protect you, after all.” He promised you. If you couldn’t speak up against your parents due to decorum, then hopefully this would give you what you need to fight back instead.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Ghost. I truly do appreciate it.” You gratefully beamed. Who knew that when you were given a bodyguard that you would be given a friend as well.

The next few days were busy. While Ghost followed you around to your now tighter classes, he was also doing background checks on every single person that your parents sent an invite out to. Which was a lot. Jesus, when he saw the list of people he wanted to smack them both. It was incredibly dangerous for them to have so many people at the palace at once considering the threats against them and their daughter. It became clear that your parents were more concerned about protecting their public image or parading you around like a doll than about your true safety.

You felt that classes were a little easier to handle with Ghost being so focused on his laptop. Normally, he would be watching you carry on with your classes. Now that he was preoccupied with his own work, you felt less like you were giving a performance and like you were genuinely learning. Though, you did wish that he would look at you once you were finished with a successful new dance. For some reason, you craved some of his attention now that you had less of it.

Nights were different as well. While you had grown accustomed to talking yourself to sleep with Ghost listening to your every word, he had to focus on getting all the background checks complete. He also took it upon himself to tighten up some security detail. He was extremely busy making sure that you were safe, so it was hard to be upset with him. Yet, you still felt a bit lonely.

One night, you just couldn’t sleep. You laid awake for hours, trying to drift off to dreamland to no avail. Part of it was nerves over the upcoming party. Part of it was fear of being assassinated or kidnapped. Part of it was bundles of creative energy that needed to be released. You usually got it out of your system during independent study or piano, but now that it was gone for now, your fingers were itching to do something you wanted to do.

Quietly, you sat up in bed, listening carefully outside the door. You knew that Ghost usually spent his time guarding you out there. You wondered if he was still there or borrowing an office somewhere to complete his work. Either way, you wanted to be a little sneaky with or without him.

You opened the bedroom door a smidge, looking along the hallways to see if Ghost or anyone was up and around. Moonlight shined through the large windows, illuminating the halls brightly in a white light. You stepped out, now seeing Ghost situated at a small oak desk that was placed out in the hall for him right outside the door. His attention was already on you, having noticed the small opening of the door. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“I have too much energy.” You explained briefly, fearful that he may tell you to go back into your room. Thankfully, he seemed to understand.

“You usually sneak out in the middle of the night?” He teased, catching you off guard. You didn’t realize that Ghost could have such a playful tone.

“Sometimes, yes.” You answered honestly. Ghost was a little surprised by your answer. You were more defiant than you usually looked. Sneaking banned books, sneaking out of your bedroom at night. Not that you were doing anything bad. You just did what you could to explore your true interests.

Ghost closed his laptop and picked it up, ready to follow you to wherever you wished to go. “Where to then?”

Swiftly, you led him to a far part of the palace, a room that was far from your parent’s wing. Without alerting any palace staff, the both of you snuck into the room. In the middle of the room was a pure white grand piano. There were some shelves lined with books about music along with piano sheet music. There was a couch with a table as well, which would allow Ghost to continue working while you tired yourself out.

As you situated yourself in front of the piano, the lieutenant got himself all set up on the couch. For some reason, you were calm. Comfortable. You thought that you would be nervous with Ghost being your audience once more, but that wasn’t the case. In fact, you have never felt more secure than you did then. Even as you had the chance to play the music that you weren’t normally allowed to play.

You started up with warm-ups. Simple scales, listening to the tune of the piano. Feeling the weight of the pedals under your feet along with the weight of the keys under your fingertips. Ghost has grown familiar with that scale. He didn’t have any particular musical talent, yet he still appreciated it. The classics and simple songs you played were good.

As Ghost worked to the sound of your playing, the both of you fell into a comfortable groove. With your playing, Ghost felt more efficient in his work. You felt more confident in your abilities. Along with this, you began to branch out a little more, practicing classical songs that you were familiar with.

However, you played them. Truly. Not how your instructors guided you to play or how the sheet music dictated. No. You felt the emotions in each note. Each sound was played naturally as if it was second nature to you. Full of passion like the songs were intended to be played. Classical music that Ghost had admittedly grew bored of listening to just about every day, no matter how well you played, was now completely enthralled. Even songs he’s heard before meeting you seemed to breathe new life as you played with your heart rather than your head.

Before Ghost knew it, all of his attention was on watching and listening to you play. He saw how you closed your eyes, your fingers naturally finding each key without the use of sheet music. How you swayed as your hands moved. How you beautifully smiled to yourself as you heard the wonderful sounds your hands made.

It only got better when you began to play songs that weren’t of the classical variety. Songs that would have you banned from playing the piano in the palace. Hell, banned from music in general. There were some modern songs that Ghost recognized, now given your own flair. He didn’t even know how you knew some of those songs, but that didn’t matter.

You had talent. Real talent. A clear love for music and the piano.

An hour passed by of him neglecting his work just to watch you play. When you finished a final song, you were breathing heavily as if you had just worked out. Your heart was beating hard in your chest. Once you managed to catch your breath, Ghost spoke up, unable to remain just the silent audience. “Why don’t you play like that during classes? You only play the basics with your tutor.”

You nearly had forgotten that Ghost had been there. You weren’t even aware that he had been listening to you play the entire time. A blush spread across your cheeks as you grew bashful all of a sudden. “It is believed that I am slow at learning the piano. I don’t correct this assumption since I don’t want to be pressured to play even more songs that I don’t find much joy in. At least, not the way they want me to play. I. . . I also don’t want to give my parents another party trick that they can exploit.”

His fists clenched at the mention of your parents. With each passing day, he’s come to resent your parents more and more. How they treat you, control your life, and regard you like a pet rather than a daughter was making his blood simmer more each day. It was getting harder for him to hold his true opinions back. “You deserve more. You deserve to play whatever you want whenever you want.”

Your eyes grew wide at his open criticism. This was the first time he spoke his mind like this. Ghost was careful in his words just as you were up until this point. It was actually rather refreshing to hear him not hold back for once. “Thank you. I hope that I can someday get to that point.”

It felt like a wall between the both of you had crumbled down. As the moonlight fell upon your soft features, your optimism for the future bright in your eyes, Ghost felt himself choke up. This was you at your rebelliousness. You were a princess that snuck around in the night to enjoy forbidden knowledge. And he wanted to be part of that.

For a moment, he understood how people could fall in love at first sight.

You began to toy around with the piano again, this time playing a little more quietly and simpler so that Ghost could get back to work. While it was hard to focus on what he needed to do because he wanted to take in more of the beauty he was in the presence of, he managed to finish what he wanted to do for the night.

He finished his background check on this bachelor that your mother wanted you to marry. Ghost read everything that he could find on the guy. Net worth, news coverage, social media, and even criminal history. Kate was a massive help in finding more confidential information too. Everything was compiled into a report that he wrote himself. When it was done, he got up from the couch and sat down beside you on the piano bench.

“Would you like to hear the report?” He simply offered, not wanting to break your light playing.

With a nod, you prepared yourself for what Ghost found. He took a deep breath before reading. “Royal background. A duke. Only a couple of years older than you are. Owns a lot of land and has a lot of wealth-”

“I don’t care about any of that.” You interrupted, your tone suddenly a bit colder. As Ghost looked at you with slight shock, you turned your head away. He didn’t expect you to speak up like that. The fact that you did meant that you were getting more comfortable with him though. You were taking this seriously as well.

“What would you like to hear then, Princess?” He offered, giving you more control that you deserved.

When he spoke back to you so softly, you met his eyes once more. The piano bench was decently big, but Ghost was a big man. You could feel his body heat radiating off of him. As you looked up, you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach. The way he looked at you like you deserved the world made you feel lighter than air. When you gazed into his eyes, you felt like you could see his genuinity.

You trusted him. You trusted that he was an excellent judge of character as well. Much more than your own parents. “Based on the values that you know I am looking for, is he a good fit for me?”

Ghost bit his tongue hard, stopping his immediate response from escaping. He wanted to say no. Based on everything he read, this guy seemed stuck-up. Seedy. He had quite a few exes under his belt, not even counting just one-off flings. He didn’t have a criminal record or seemed to be dealing with anything particularly shady, but he did take advantage of his wealthy and royal status to experience certain things in life, regardless of how others may feel.

Then again, Ghost felt like his brain was foggy. Like he couldn’t really make a fair judgment because he wanted to reject him immediately. He had a bias against him. Where it came from exactly, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he didn’t trust him to be the one for you. He didn’t want you anywhere near him either.

For now, he decided to be earnest yet nice. “I don’t think he would be a good match based on his track records, but who’s to say that he isn’t better in person. You’ll have an hour to judge him at the very least.”

Your heart fell as you heard his answer. It wasn’t that you were disappointed over this stranger probably not being the best for you. No. You were disappointed that Ghost wasn’t more blunt with what he thought. You appreciated how he was trying to preserve your feelings, but you didn’t want that right now. You wished that he could protest some more, any excuse not to meet this stranger and play into the hands of your parents.

As he saw the flash of anguish on your face, Ghost felt his heart break. He could tell that you were really hesitant about this man. You didn’t even want to meet him if you had the choice. Without thinking, he took up your hands and squeezed. His hand was so much bigger than yours. Rougher, sturdier. Hands that have done things that you would never be able to fully comprehend. And now, they were holding yours.

“One hour. That’s all. However, if you tell me that you hate him, even within the first second of seeing him, I’ll make sure that he won’t even get to touch you.” His tone was resolute, unwavering.

As he put the control back in your hands, you squeezed his hands right back. Your heart swelled again as if on a rollercoaster. The moonlight cutting across the skull mask you have gotten used to only to brighten his deep, blue eyes made you melt. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Taglist: @angel-anna @ghostlythots @maiyatheprettiestprincess

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cosmerelists · 23 days ago

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The Favorite Food Show of Each Order of the Knights Radiant

I do love a good food-based show, like the ones on Food Network or the Bon Appetit youtube channel before it imploded. So naturally I wondered which show the various orders of the Knights Radiant would like best. The result...is this.

[Previously we've seen the Knights Radiant play boardgames, go to musicals, have sleepovers, have fandom jobs, and be birds]

1. Stonewards: Cutthroat Kitchen

Cutthroat Kitchen is a show where contestants can bid money to give each other silly disadvantages (involving a LOT of spreaders, for some reason). You get to keep the money you don't spend at the end, if you win.

Honestly, I think the Stonewards would be good at being on this show, not just watching it: they'd naturally just accept every disadvantage thrown at them without ever harming another player, prove to be really good at putting up with any and all "torture," and then win in the end.

It's the Stoneward way.

2. Edgedancers: Diners, Drive-ins and Dives

This is a show about discovering greasy spoon restaurants and giving them attention for their great food. I am not only saying this because of Lift either! I think there's a sense of bringing attention to restaurants that might, uh, otherwise be forgotten or something. Look, it makes sense in my head.

3. Truthwatchers: Reverse Engineering with Chris Morocco

This was (is?) a Youtube channel with Chris Morocco on Bon Appetit. He's blindfolded and present with a dish, which he can smell, taste, touch, but not see. He then has to try to reverse engineer the dish based on his initial investigation. I think the Truthwatchers would dig a show like that, about investigation, trying to figure out the truth...

4. Bondsmiths: Chopped

On Chopped, contestants are given a basket of four ingredients that are...unusual or hard to put together, and then they have to make a coherent meal out of it. Doesn't that sound like something a Bondmight would like? You gotta unite the four ingredients into one coherent whole.

5. Elsecallers: Good Eats

This is a show hosted by Alton Brown, and it's basically a quiet informational show about food, its history, ingredients, which kitchen gadgets you really need, etc. It tries to take a scientific angle toward everything as well. I just think it would suit the intellectual Elsecallers more so than some of the wilder Food Network shows.

6. Skybreakers: Iron Chef

I haven't watched much Iron Chef, but it is a one-on-one battle between a contestant and one of the current Iron Chefs, who are a board of, like, really good chefs. And they have a signature ingredient and each have to make a dish which then gets judged by a panel of judges. Somehow this formal cooking battle feels like something that would appeal to the Skybreakers.

7. Dustbringers: Kitchen Nightmares

Now, this one I've never watched, but I know it's a show where Gordon Ramsay goes and yells at restaurant owners who are really bad at maintaining their restaurants. I get the sense that it's the fun kind of chaotic disaster, especially if you like to see people who are bad at things get called out on it. For all of these reasons, this feels like a show a Dustbringer might enjoy.

8. Willshapers: The Great Food Truck Race

Per the webpage I found about this show, it's all about "adventure" and "new challenges." It's a show about new food truck owners who travel to new towns every week and then try to sell their food and complete various challenges. That sense of freedom and adventure seems like something the Willshapers would be really into.

9. Lightweavers: Cake Wars

I think the Lightweavers would enjoy any of the many shows about elaborate decoration and presentation, so I picked Cake Wars since I think that's what it's about. They'd probably also like those "Is It Cake?" shows as well, to be honest...

10. Windrunners: The Great British Bake-Off

I have no real justification for this. I just want to imagine Kaladin and the rest of Bridge 4 bundled up in blankets, snacking on sweet treats (for the women) or whatever they can scrounge up that is vaguely similar to a sweet treat for the men (fruit?), watching a purely wholesome show where the worst thing that ever happens is somebody messes up their bake (we don't talk about the Baked Alaska incident).

I just think it'd be good for them.

#cosmere #cosmerelists #stormlight archive #knights radiant

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morbidology · 3 months ago

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Skinwalker Ranch, a remote property in northeastern Utah, has become one of the most infamous and mysterious sites of alleged paranormal activity in the United States. Spanning approximately 512 acres, the ranch has been the focus of countless stories involving UFO sightings, strange creatures, poltergeist-like phenomena, and unexplained cattle mutilations. For decades, it has attracted the attention of scientists, researchers, and enthusiasts of the unexplained, earning its place as a central figure in the lore of the paranormal.

The ranch's name is derived from the Navajo legend of the skinwalker, a malevolent witch capable of transforming into, possessing, or disguising themselves as an animal. According to Navajo folklore, skinwalkers are dangerous beings that use their shape-shifting abilities to cause harm and spread fear. The Ute tribe, who reside in the region, have long spoken of the land where the ranch is located as being cursed and avoid it whenever possible. The Utes believe that the Navajo sent skinwalkers to curse the Utes after a conflict between the two tribes, and that these entities continue to inhabit the area to this day.

The ranch first gained widespread attention in the 1990s when Terry and Gwen Sherman purchased the property in 1994. The Shermans quickly began experiencing strange and terrifying events. They reported seeing large, wolf-like creatures that were unaffected by bullets, mysterious lights in the sky, and crop circles appearing overnight. Perhaps most disturbingly, they encountered instances of cattle mutilations, with several of their livestock found dead and mutilated in ways that defied explanation—often with precise, surgical cuts and no blood at the scene.

The Shermans also described poltergeist-like activities within their home, such as objects moving on their own, strange voices, and even the sudden appearance of unfamiliar and disorienting odors. Despite their initial skepticism, the sheer volume and intensity of these experiences led the family to believe that something supernatural was at play. After only 18 months, the Shermans sold the ranch.

In 1996, Robert Bigelow, a billionaire businessman with a keen interest in the paranormal, purchased Skinwalker Ranch. Bigelow founded the National Institute for Discovery Science (NIDS), a research organization dedicated to investigating paranormal phenomena. Bigelow's team of scientists, including physicists, biologists, and other experts, spent years studying the ranch in an attempt to uncover the truth behind the strange occurrences.

Despite employing sophisticated equipment and extensive surveillance, the NIDS team was often frustrated in their efforts to capture definitive evidence. The phenomena were elusive, frequently occurring just out of view or in ways that defied scientific analysis. Nevertheless, the team documented numerous instances of high strangeness, including bizarre animal sightings, unusual electromagnetic readings, and unexplained lights and aerial phenomena. The ranch seemed to be a hotspot for what many called a "paranormal stew," with a wide range of inexplicable events occurring simultaneously.

Over the years, numerous theories have been proposed to explain the mysteries of Skinwalker Ranch. Some suggest that the area is a portal or vortex to another dimension, where entities and phenomena from other realities bleed into our own. Others believe that the ranch may be a site of advanced extraterrestrial activity, with UFOs and alien beings using the area for unknown purposes. There are also those who think that the ranch's strangeness could be the result of secret government experiments or technologies being tested in the remote location.

Skeptics, however, argue that the stories of Skinwalker Ranch are exaggerated or fabricated, fueled by a mix of folklore, psychological phenomena, and the power of suggestion. They point to the lack of concrete evidence and the often anecdotal nature of the reports as reasons to question the legitimacy of the claims.

#Skinwalker Ranch #Paranormal #Bizarre #Mystery #Strange #Mysterious

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genevievefangirl · 27 days ago

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Gen's Top 100 DBDA Fics - PART 10

For all caveats/rules/backstory, please read the Master Post

Thoroughfare By: expertonhaircuts worm_pirate_ on twitter Rating: T Tags: AU - Zombie Apocalypse, AU - Last of Us, Slow Burn, Hurt Edwin Payne, Protective Charles Rowland, Unfinished Summary: “I’m Charles,” He says, determined to keep eye contact with the boy’s wide, green eyes, “Are you okay?” The boy doesn’t say anything. He just looks down and rolls up the right sleeve of his shirt, and Charles’ mouth goes dry. Logically, he knew it was there, he knew, he saw the Infected bite into the boy when Charles was under him. But somehow, as they ran, he’d convinced himself he’d saved them both. “Promise me, Charles,” The name comes as an afterthought, the boy’s voice shaking, “Promise me you’ll kill me when I turn.” // OR: A zombie apocalypse AU inspired by The Last of Us in which Edwin is immune, Charles has sworn to protect him, and together they’ve been running from their pasts whilst trying to do some good along the way. My Notes: This is the only truly 'unfinished' fic on this list in that it hasn't been updated for months at this point, but I promise you it is worth reading in it's current state. I love zombie AUs and this one is one of the best I have ever read. The first meeting between the boys is iconic and the instant connection they form is *chef's kiss*. I promise you will love it.

Touched by you By: Lemurafraidofthunder @lemurafraidofthunder Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Caretaking, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Protective Charles Rowland, Protective Edwin Payne Summary: After a run in with an iron-happy witch, our favourite ghost detectives take care of each other and perhaps have some realisations. Featuring gentle touches, a slightly panicking Edwin and Charles who’s always gonna be ready with a soft smile for Edwin. My Notes: The boys taking care of each other after getting injured will always be one of my fav genres.

Wait, I'm Coming Too By: flowerbritts @flowerbritts Rating: T Tags: Feelings Realization, Misunderstandings, Protective Charles Rowland, Hurt/Comfort, Case Fic, FIrst Kiss Summary: Edwin was changing. Charles couldn't help but see this as strange as 'Edwin' and 'change' were usually never in the same sentence. But Charles noticed. Charles would always notice. or Charles has to use his investigative skills to solve The Case of The Different Demeanor. My Notes: Edwin's different. Charles is struggling with that. The boys talking about their feelings after the season is over is such an underrated genre of fic and this is one of the best of those.

what is Hell to a broken heart? By: imnotcryingipromise Rating: G Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Self-Sacrifice, First Kiss, Soul Bond, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: "You'd trade your soul?" the demon asks, evidently mystified but intrigued. "For his?" Charles breathes out a humourless laugh. "His is worth more than ten of mine," he submits. "But I doubt you value souls of quality. You demons want anger, yeah? And pain? You feed off it... Well I'm full of it." *** Hell returns to reclaim Edwin. Desperate to protect his friend, Charles offers up his soul instead. My Notes: Charles trying to save Edwin from going back to Hell by sacrificing himself? SIGN ME UP!

what some circumstance stole By: Chrome @catalists Rating: T Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Torture, Kidnapping, Hurt Edwin Payne, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: For a magic-user intent on siphoning pain for power, both Hob Gadling and Edwin Payne represent unique opportunities. United in dire circumstances, a man incapable of dying and a boy long dead forge an unusual friendship--and try to survive the experience. --- “When you died,” Hob said. “How old were you?” “Sixteen.” “That,” Hob said, “Is awful.” Edwin shrugged. “Life is, I’m afraid,” he said. “Can be wonderful, too,” Hob said. “I promise.” My Notes: I have never seen Sandman, but this story hit me hard. It has everything! Hurt Edwin with Charles being protective and an interesting case too! And Hob is a great POV character that I grew from not knowing at all to LOVING by the end.

what was there to complain of, but that he had been loved? By: imnotcryingipromise Rating: T Tags: Fix-it, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Love Triangles, Angst with a Happy Ending, Protective Charles Rowland, PTSD Summary: "Edwin!" Charles' anxious plea brings him back to the present. They are just inches from one another, the younger boy’s hands pressed to either side of his inconsolable companion's face. "Stay with me, yeah?" Charles whispers. *** Following Niko’s death, Edwin begins having panic attacks. Charles is torn between his desperate desire to console his oldest friend and his duty to the girl he cares for. My Notes: Charles insisting on giving Edwin comfort when Edwin insists he doesn't need any is such a good trope. And I love Charles running after Edwin when he runs away.

Who Would You Kill For? By: Asoftdaniel ourbluehours on twitter Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Troture, Protective Charles Rowland, Violent Thoughts, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt Edwin Payne, Angst Summary: Edwins' screams mulled Charles' soul into pieces. He was unable to reach him, the iron collar a burning reminder carving his skin with the guilt. No matter how much he struggled against the choker, no matter how many threats were shouted, he couldn't stop Edwin’s tortured wails. He would make that witch pay. He would make everything alright. or the events from the last episode written slightly different– more violent and sentimental– and the aftermath while comforting away some deep scars. My Notes: Charles going ferral on Esther after she tortures Edwin is catnip to me.

Who? You mean your teammate in the Codependency World Cup? - Series By: RoseGanymede95 @oxbellows Rating: G-M Tags: Case Fic, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Edwin Payne, Protective Charles Rowland, Angst Summary: The pre-canon adventures of Edwin and Charles. In which they love each other a whole lot and neither one has any idea how to be normal about it. My Notes: Yes I did put all of Codependency together because otherwise it would have taken 5 slots lol This is highly rated for a reason, if you haven't read it yet, what are you doing??? Go read it! The characterization of Edwin and Charles is spot on and the writing itself is delightful. Everytime it updates the entire DBDA Haunt server screams about it. If that doesn't tell you all you need to know then nothing will!

Will it shine forever? By: Asoftdaniel ourbluehours on twitter Rating: G Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, AU - Soulmates, Angst, Protective Charles Rowland, Soul Bond Summary: “He is gone,” Charles choked out, wet and desperate, “I can’t feel him Crystal, he is gone.” It rang true, sucking all the oxygen in the space around them until it was painfully obvious that, even if soulmates could be separated by Death, Hell would have to try a lot harder. Even if the soul mark was gone and Charles grieved the loss of half his soul, he would wreak havoc until there was nothing left of him. Or: the soulmate au where when Edwin gets taken to Hell the soul mark and ‘soul bond’ disappears, leaving Charles uncertain if Edwin is still even ‘alive’ yet he goes down to Hell anyways. My Notes: Soulmate AUs are some of my favorites and I love this one partially because Charles not being able to feel Edwin anymore when he is dragged to Hell hit me right in the gut.

Your flickering light By: tragedy_machine @tragedy-machine Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Protective Charles Rowland, Feelings Realization, PTSD Summary: Charles sees it happen in real time. He sees how Edwin goes from distressed to so deeply panicked it’s evident that his mind goes to a completely different place. He also sees the moment Edwin flickers and simply sinks through the floor. Edwin phasing through one floor to get to the one below wouldn’t be anything to write home about, except for the fact that they already are on the utmost ground floor. There was nothing underneath the house but a few meters of concrete, followed by rock and dirt. OR: Edwin gets triggered during an attack which causes him to disappear and a panicked Charles has to figure out how to find him before it's too late My Notes: The idea of Edwin falling through the floor due to panic has stuck in my brain from the first time I read this fic months ago. I love the moment when Charles finds him half buried in the ground. It is just so good.

And that's the full 100!

But we aren't done yet! Tune in tomorrow for:

Part 11- Bonus WIPs day!

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justdreamsandmusic · 6 months ago

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#scp foundation #secure contain protect #special containment procedures #scp #scp wiki #united nations global occult coalition #global occult coalition #unusual investigations unit #uiu #groups of interest #people of interest #wanderers library #the wanderers library #scp verse #foundation verse #scpfoundation #scp fandom

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gardens-light · 27 days ago

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The Thunder Within The Storm

While sitting at your desk, your body slowly began to curl in on itself. As the silence within the medbay grew more eerie, your gaze studying your surroundings, as if the walls of the hangar had stretched back. Creating a cold, hollow space that swallowed sound, turning it into a empty void without Ratchet bringing it to life. Hours stretched into eternity, the words upon your notebook blurring into one another. As Optimus' words to Bumblebee over the comlink about 'checking in' with an old human ally, begun to repeat within your thoughts. And with the other Autobot's investigating the suspicious growing Decepticon activity, you couldn't help but allow fear to creep into your heart and give it a suffocating squeeze. For something just didn't feel quite right...

Content: Mild Coarse Language. Events takes place during 'Transformers- Revenge of the Fallen.' Major Movie Spoilers. Mentions of death/grief. Fluff/Comfort. Autobot Ratchet x F/Human Reader. Reader Insert.

Seris: The Intern- Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Word Count: 3,900K

"Major! Incoming SOS from Autobots!"

"Multiple Decepticon contacts in motion. Vicinity, eastern United States, sir!-"

"As in how many?" Lennox questioned, studying the Autobot's location upon the multiple computer screens within the main hangar.

"Unclear, sir-"

"Then get clear!-"

"They're on the move." Lieutenant Smith pointed to one of the screens. "Splitting into two teams, sir. One heading towards New York, the other to Philadelphia. None of our calls are being returned."

"Alright, full weapon's deployment. Wheels up in twenty minutes!-"

"I can get my tactical gear ready in five!" you called out. Rushing to Lennox's side, as the N.E.S.T team rushed into their assigned vehicles and positions.

But the major shook his head firmly, concern etching into his features as his brown eyes glanced at the screens. "Sorry Valkyrie... not this time."

"What?" disbelief lined within your unusual firm tone, as you grabbed the sleeve of Lennox's military jacket. Pulling him closer towards you and preventing him from running towards the standby aircraft, "you can't be serious!"

A heavy sigh escaped his lips while turning his attention onto you. His firm yet caring tone, matching his guilty expression. "I am serious. With how dire things look with the Autobots, it... it would be too dangerous for you to be there. I won't take the risk of you getting hurt-"

"Do not speak of me as though I'm an inexperienced cadet!" a firm frown came to your lips, as a scoff escaped you. "I've been on the frontlines! I know what you're up against! It was bad enough of having Ratchet push me onto the sidelines. But now you?!"

"Ah, Valkyrie..." Lennox sighed, running his free hand down his face. "You know that's not what I meant... the frontlines are different this time, what the Autobots and my team are up against isn't something you've ever seen before-"

"Oh please! Have you forgotten that I've already shot a Decepticon? With nothing but a double-barrel shotgun, may I add!"

Lennox placed a hand upon your shoulder, "I haven't forgotten that accomplishment. But the Decepticon you shot back then, was nothing but a scout. Running into this... you'd be running into the big guys themselves-"

"I'm not made of glass, nor easily frightened!" you firmly spoke, slapping his hand away. "I refuse to be grounded on this base!-"

"If this was any other situation, you know I'd have you by my side within a heartbeat." Lennox pulled his arm away from your grip upon his jacket. His voice changing to his authicating tone, while a firm expression etched across his features. "But... I'm putting my foot down on this one. You're staying put, whether you like it or not."

While grinding your teeth, hands curled into fists, nails digging into your palms. "Are you... seriously giving me a direct order?!"

"Damn right I am!" Lennox shouted over his shoulder. His soft expression betraying his authoritative tone, as a thorn of guilt pricked within his chest. Clearing his throat, feeling your glare narrow onto his back while approaching the nearby aircraft. "I'm not having you get caught up in the crossfire..."

"This is bullshit!"

Roughly An Hour Later

The sound of confused murmur and whispered guesses caught your attention. Taking a pause from your sketch of Ratchet, eyes flickering away from your notepad, as your attention studied the military personale crowding over the flickering computer screens.

What... the hell...?

The same chaos spread across the main hangar, all computer screens glitched and fazed out, while TV screens rapidly switch through the channels on their own.

"Citizens of the human hive." A cold emotionless voice filled the air, as the image of an unknown Transformer appeared upon all screens. "Your leaders have withheld the truth. You're not alone in this universe. We've lived among you, hidden. But no more."

Covering your mouth with your hand, as a silent gasp slipped from your lips. Fear flashed across your features, heart sinking within your chest as a video footage of a navy ship sinking off the coast, flickered upon the computer screen near you.

"As you've seen, we can destroy your cities at will." Your stomach took a sickening twist, as the Transformer's words held a hidden glee within his tone. "Unless you turn over this boy."

Footage of CCTV and photographs of a zoomed in driver's licence consumed every screen. Plastering a name and face that your brothers in arms seemed to recognize very well.

Sam Witwicky.

The chilling face of the Transformer returned, his crimson optics burning into your very soul. A devilish grin uncomfortably stretching across his features, as metallic blue crystals framing his elongated face clicked in independent movement. "If you resist us, we will destroy the world as you know it-"

"Find me who the fuck hacked our system and broadcasted that message!" Lieutenant Smith yelled from the tall platform.

"Origin unknown, sir! But it's showing up on every frequency globally!" one soldier shouted from the right side of the catwalk.

Frantic panic erupted throughout the main hangar. Voice's shouting over one another, ringing of phones and 'bleeps' of intercoms contributed to the madness. All the while, you remained seated at a desk, remaining frozen as your scared features blankly stared at the computer screen. Hand finally slipping away from your slightly parted lips, falling gently against your notepad.

"Our superiors have assumed Condition Delta, sir!" a voice shouted from the radio-coms station upon the left. "The President has been flown to a bunker, somewhere within the middle of the United States!-"

"Report just in! The aircraft carrier USS Roosevelt has gone down off the East Coast... a-all lives... lost... sir."

"Worldwide casualties are in the neighborhood of seven-thousand... a-and expected to climb..."

Eerie silence gradually fell over the hangar, as realization of how grave things have become, begun to hit home to each soldier. Lieutenant Smith's heart nervously picked up its pace, feeling his comrades look up at him. Their gazes not only filled with fear, but also hope. As if the lieutenant held the answers.

As the roar of an aircraft engine cut through the tension, and snapping you out of your daze. Immedictly abandoning your station and carelessly throwing your notepad onto the desk, as the sight of the plane landed upon the tarmac just outside of the main hangar.

"Lennox!" your tone trembled with worry as you flung yourself into him. Almost knocking the major over, "are you alright? I saw the broadcast! What the fuck happened out there?!"

"The Decepticons... ambushed our boys." He lowly spoke, dropping his tactical equipment. Placing an arm around your shoulders, "as well as an all out global assault. We're... still trying to figure out why but... that's not the worst of it. I-It got messy out there... real messy."

Following Lennox's gaze, your eyes widened as a helicopter suspended Optimus' body above the tarmac. A dull ache plucked at your heartstrings, as the Autobot's lifeless body was respectfully lowered to the ground.

"Prime... was protecting an old ally of ours." The subtle crack within the major's voice betrayed his stern expression, "Megatron... murdered him in cold blood."

His gaze briefly met your wide eyed stare. Your pained expression caused his heart to sink lower within his chest, "th-this... is why I didn't want you to come."

The faminular sound of two car engines pulled you from Lennox's embrace. Slowly approaching the two vehicles, watching Ironhide and Sideswipe roll out of their altmodes. Kneeling towards you with their heads hung low, as an expression of grief and shock framed their features.

"W-We're alright, Doll." Sideswipe spoke with a shaky tone, as you tried to hug him and Ironhide. "A... couple of dents but nothing that can't be buffed out." The light within his optics were gone, as was any ounce of his usual playful demeanor.

As you took a step back, Sideswipe gently nudged your shoulder with the knuckle of his index digit. "And before you panic... Skids and Mudflap are fine. They're with Bumblebee, helping him protect our ally Sam."

Despite not quite understanding how or why this... Sam Witwicky was involved with the Autobots, you simply gave Sideswipe a nod. Now isn't the time to ask...

Not far in the distance, Ratchet's massive frame still hummed from exertion. His servos groaned quietly, and his systems were already running diagnostics upon himself. Sorrow flickered within his opics and a dull ache pulsed within his spark, as Optimus' form came into view. I-I... have failed you... old friend...

"Ratchet!" you breathlessly exclaimed, running towards him practically skidding to a halt as he knelt towards you. Wrapping your arms around his neck the best you could, causing the Autobot to stiffen as you quickly planted two kisses upon his cheek. Feeling his spark pulse against you, as your lips left a soft warmth against his cool steel. "You're ok."

Ratchet's spark skipped a beat, a subtle warmth radiated beneath his faceplates as you gently rested your forehead against his. The quiet intimacy of the gesture almost taking him off guard, and although it was barely a small touch by his standards. He knew to you, it was everything.

Just for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. The chaos of everything briefly fading, the tension in his joints loosened, and the quiet calm of your closeness settled over him. Ratchet didn't move nor breathe a word- don't think the medic was even sure he knew how to respond. But... there was something... peaceful in the way you held onto him, as if your very presence soothed the weariness in his circuits.

"You... don't need to worry about me, Valkyrie. I'm... functional." Ratchet assured, his low tone gentle than usual but you could hear a prang of grief hiding within his words. His knuckles carefully ran up and down your spine, while leaning his forehelm a little more against your forehead. "Steady your breathing. I'm right here..." Right in front of you...

"What's the meaning of this?" Sideswipe quickly raised to his full height. His optics narrowing onto the beige, military Hummers which surrounded him and his Autobot comrades.

"You dare point a gun at me?" Ironhide snarled, his voice roaring over the NEST personnel that immediately tried to settle the building feud between the new arrivals and the Autobots. "You want a piece of me?! I will tear you apart!"

As his comrades stood protectively over Optimus, their weapons drawn and aimed at the new arrivals. You couldn't help but gaze up at Ratchet, giving him a soft look of surprise as the medic protectively placed an arm around you. Ratchet's chassis lightly presses against your back, while he knelt against the tarmac. His free servo retracting and bringing out his saw, preparing the defend both of you.

"Easy, big guy." Reaching up and placing an assuring touch against Ratchet's faceplate. Your heart couldn't help but flutter slightly, as his engine purred in your ear.

"Drop your weapons!" Lennox ordered, his voice adding to the shouting-match that erupted between his N.E.S.T comrades and the new arrivals. Slamming his fists against a Hummer's hood. "Tell them to lower their fucking weapons!-"

"Major, there's nothing I can do... talk to him-"

"Your N.E.S.T team is deactivated, Major." Director Galloway spoke as he exited a Hummer. His stern gaze meeting Lennox's eye roll, "you are to cease anti-Decepticon operations. You all are to be deported to Area 51 and await for further orders-"

"No! We take our orders directly from Chairman Morshower, sir." Lennox challenged, stepping into Galloway's personal space and eyeing him down.

"Well... I'll see your Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. But in the meantime..." Galloway reached into the inside pocket of his blazer. Shoving a crumpled piece of paper into Lennox's hands and adjusting his glasses. "I give you a President of the United States official Director of Command! I have operational command now... An alien blood feud has been brought to our shores, for which our soldiers are paying the price! Their secret is out! This is our war now! And we will win it as we always have, with a coordinated military strategy!-"

"This fool is terribly misinformed." Ironhide lowly growled, not caring that Galloway clearly heard him.

"You're gonna need every asset that you've got-"

"What we need is to draw up battle plans." Galloway rudely interrupted Lennox. His professional expression not shifting under the major's firm gaze. "While we explore every possible diplomatic solution-"

"Like what? Handing over the kid?"

You saw a heavy breath escape Lennox. Your anger equally matching the major's, as Galloway's silence spoke volumes.

"All options are being considered." Galloway straightened his blazer, proudly nodding to himself. "Now... you and your boys prepare for departure, and someone remove that thing from the tarmac!-"

"Have you no respect? Or is it pure arrogance that drives you?" you snapped. Stepping away from Ratchet's protective embrace, and storming towards the government director. "Show some compassion!-"

"As this no longer involves you, Private. You are here ordered to return to your original post, back at your previous unit." Galloway casually spoke, waving a dismissal hand as he turned back towards the beige Hummer. "The pathetic joke of this 'intern program' with N.E.S.T has concluded-"

"Beryllium bologna!" many curious gazes and raised eyebrows fell upon you, as you barked the unknown words. While a proud smile tugged Ratchet's lips, knowing full well what the Cybertronian insult meant. "Give them time to grieve and process their loss!-"

"Whoa. Hold up. Hold up." Lennox whispered, stepping in-between you and the director. Preventing you from grabbing a fistful of Galloway's blazer, "don't let bastards like him get the better of you-"

"Save the sentiment speech." Galloway coldly spoke, adjusting his glasses once more. "You're nothing more, but a mare human to the Autobots, Private Y/N. They hold no regard for you-"

"Valkyrie." Ratchet corrected, the uncharacteristic growl within his words giving them a sharp edge. "Her name is, Private Valkyrie. And you have no place to determine her worth!-"

"Whatever the Decepticons are after, this is just the start." Lennox warned, attempting to defuse the tension that grew thick within the air. "There is no negotiating with them-"

"I'm ordering you to stand down!" Galloway snapped, stepping towards Lennox whom still stood between the pair of you. The director's authoritative gaze meeting your narrowed glare. "You all have... twenty-four hours to prepare your assets for departure. And those piles of scrap with you!"

"I really don't like that dude." Lieutenant Smith sighed, crossing his arms and approaching Lennox's side. All three of you watching Director Galloway and his men load back into the beige Hummers and head towards the main hangar. "He's an asshole."

"We should just leave this planet." Ironhide growled.

"That's not what Optimus would want." Sideswipe spoke in a gentle tone, placing a servo upon his comrade's shoulder and encouraging Ironhide to lower his weapon with his free servo. "And... I don't think that's what our medic wants..."

Both Autobots turned to their medic, seeing the brief moment of heartbreak flicker within his optics. Sensing Ratchet's spark slow to yearning pulse as he watched you storm away from the situation.

---

Most of the afternoon dragged at a painful pace. Concerned voices and panicked tones shouted over one another in the main hangar, updates of events from comlinks and radios, adding to the chaos almost every hour. Grief, pain, anger and sorrow whirled within Lennox, his comrades and their Autobot friends, like the wave of an unforgiving whirlpool that continuously reminded them of the current struggles. While Director Galloway barked orders from the high scaffolding platform within the main hangar, looking down upon the military personnel through the circular leans of his glasses.

Forcing open the medbay hangar doors with ease, Ratchet's aching spark twisted in it's chamber, as his soft gaze scanned the area. The space that the medic once happily shared with you, became almost unrecognizable.

Still silence deafened his senses. His monitors and equipment appeared to lose their lively hum, leaving their colour as a dull hue of gray under the dim lighting. A slight shiver vibrated through Ratchet's frame, while his optics scanned the concrete flooring.

Cold...? I've never felt cold. This place has never been cold. So... why...?

Worry and concern flickered within his optics, as his gaze settled upon you. Sitting in the middle of the medbay, knee deep in files and documents which almost swallowed your exhausted frame. He could practically feel the stress radiating off you. A stern and focused expression was upon your features, taking away any hint of your beautiful smile which Ratchet adored.

"Enough." His voice held a gentle warmth, but his words were softer than usual. Brushing the mess aside, kneeling down, making sure not to startle you. "You've done enough."

"Time isn't exactly on our side right now." Your flat, expressionless tone caused his spark to pulse with a dull ache.

"I know that... but drowning yourself in these archives, digging through hundreds of old files. Won't help your chance of finding anything-"

"Why? Because I'm simply a 'mere human' to you?" your words held an uncharacteristic sharpness.

A painful volt of electricity zapped through the medic's internal circuits. The Autobot didn't know what hurt more, how you spoke to him with this new cold attitude without looking at him. Or that somehow a part of you believed Galloway's words, causing you to throw them in his face.

D-Darling... "you know I don't think that. I've never thought that." Ratchet's servo twitched, iching to reach out to you and pull you into his embrace. "You're not just a 'mere human' to me... you never have been. You're... so much more than that."

A warm sensation tugged upon Ratchet's spark, as you took a moment to pause. His gaze softening with worry and concern, seeing your shoulders slouch, your hands slightly trembling. Despite his desire to hold and soothe you, Ratchet refrained from following his spark. Remaining logical and quiet, giving you a couple of moments to breathe, allowing you to attempt to ease your frustration and exhaustion.

"Th-There... has to be another way..." you sighed, a subtle hint of gentleness crept back into your tone, as you continued to blanky gaze at a folder in front of you. "Another solution."

Another solution for what? To bring Prime back? Or... to keep you with me...?

"Valkyrie... I know you're tired and overwhelmed. And I appreciate your determination to find a way through this, but... exhaughting yourself wont do any good-"

"It can't just end this way! I won't allow it!" Ratchet flinched at your sudden outburst, his optics widening as you carelessly through a folder across the medbay. Causing papers to rain down on the pair of you, as you looked up at him through watery eyes. "W-We haven't spent all this time together! Learnt and shared so much, just for it all to meanlessly be taken away! I-I haven't grown to...!"

Ratchet's breath slightly hitched as he waited for you to finish the sentence. His spark skipping a beat in anticipation. But after a few moments of your silence, a shaky sigh escaped him. Composing himself, as he tried to ignore the yearning which tugged upon his spark. Forcing the small zaps within his circuits down, holding onto the small bit of doubt that plagued his processor. The doubt that you could care for him, in the same way he's grown to care for you.

Hold her! Comfort her! His pulsing spark practically screamed. Twisting within its chamber causing an ache to run through his frame.

"What... are you trying to say...?" Ratchet's soft gaze met yours. His words holding a soft, tentative tone.

"Th-That... returning to my unit is going to feel so strange." You lowly admitted. "And that... my medbay is gonna feel so... empty... without you."

Oh... my darling. Ratchet's spark skipped a beat at your words, his processor almost moaning the nickname, as an invisible tug pulled his frame closer to you. I-I'm going to be so lost without you beside me. Working in the medbay just won't be the same...

"Valkyrie..." his servo involuntary reached out for you, knuckles caressing your cheek with a feathered touch. As his thumb brushed away your rolling tears. "My life will also never be the same again... without you in it."

Ratchet's free servo nervously clenched as he gazed into your eyes. His spark thudding within it's chamber, sending volts of electricity throughout his wires. Like how one would feel butterflies in their stomach. A mixture of worry, hope and doubt flashed across the medic's features, almost daring to believe that you too somehow felt what he did.

His thumb gently caressed your cheek in a tender, soothing motion. The warmth within his spark spread throughout Ratchet's frame, subtly making his faceplates warm to the touch. His free servo edging closer to you, iching to cradle the small of your back as you leaned in closer. The pulse and rhythm of the volts zapping throughout his circuits strangely changing, as you slowly reached out for him. Causing the medic's frame to shudder under your touch, while your fingers traced over the scars of his chassis.

Butterflies entangled your nerves. A breathless gasp escaped your parted lips. Your soft, affectionate gaze flickering from Ratchet's blue optics to his lips, as your heart fluttered within your chest. Feeling his loving touch filled you with such affection and tender, that your happy sigh almost broke the crackling, electric tension between you.

This... This is the closest we've ever been. Ratchet's digits carefully ran through your hair, nervously swallowing a lump in his vocal processor. The... warmth and touch of her against me. H-Her perfume is filling my sensors. And my spark... it's pulse and rhythm almost matches... his eyes slowly widened. His frame stiffening as your lips almost ghosted over his. O-Oh, Primus no...

"Ratchet...?" your puzzled tone was almost just above a whisper. Your confused gaze studying his flushed expression, as the medic quickly pulled away. Straightening his posture while clearing his throat.

A small prick of embarrassment and disappointment nipped at your sinking heart, like a thorn against your skin. Did I... do something wrong?

But little did you you know, Ratchet felt like he had to pull away. Even with every fibre of his being, begging him to just pull you into his embrace and never let you go. To finally cure his curiosity of how it would feel to touch your soft lips. He just couldn't bring himself to accept the fact you felt the same way.

Saying something now, would... only make it harder to say 'goodbye.' His processor convinced. Like it or not, we have to go our separate ways.

"T-Take care... Valkyrie."

His spark and your heart released a painful ache, a heartbreak that almost shook your very souls, as Ratchet raised onto his peds and walked away.

Your eyes lowered towards the ground again. Ratchet....

Closing the medbay doors behind him, leaning against them and letting out a long, weary sigh. Ratchet briefly looked up at the starry sky, his optics rolling shut as he lightly banged the back of his helm against the large metal doors. His spark clenching within its chamber, while the medic harshly scolded himself. Banging his helm against the doors, in time with each syllable as tears streamed down his faceplates.

Tag List

@junebugessentials @genarf

#x reader #gardens light #fanfiction #fanfic writing #bayverse x reader #transformers x reader #transformers fanfiction #bayverse transformers #autobots x reader #x y/n #autobot ratchet x reader #ratchet x reader #bayverse ratchet #autobot ratchet

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gghostwriter · 5 months ago

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Yours Truly, Romeo

Chapter 4 __ The Profile & The Profiler

Spencer Reid x FOC

Summary: Washington, DC - A string of grizzly murders and obsessive love letters causes Olivia and Spencer’s paths to intertwine. With a serial killer proclaiming his undying devotion to her and the thick tension surrounding her and her agent turned bodyguard, Olivia’s life is writing out like a contemporary love story that she, as a successful writer, could see herself publishing.

previous chapter || series masterlist || next chapter

"You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above the common bound." - Act 1, Scene 4. Romeo & Juliet by William Shakespeare

“We believe our unsub is a white male driving an SUV. He uses the vehicle to abduct and transport the male victims from Washington DC to Maryland,” Hotch stated in front of the members of the Washington PD.

Morgan stood next to him, hands on his hips. “His victims are between the ages 27-35 and we think the unsub is in the same age bracket.”

“Add to that, our unsub is experiencing a psychosis specifically called erotomania. This form of delusion is when an individual believes that another person, usually of a higher status, is in love with him. His weapon of choice also gives us another understanding on his psyche to these killings, using narcotics to kill symbolizes the emotional detachment the unsub has to his victims—” Spencer elaborated.

“Which means the victims were a crime of opportunity, rather than crime of passion,” Morgan injected.

“—and with his use of methanol and formaldehyde to preserve the body parts, we believe we are looking for an intelligent unsub.”

“Which is not unusual. True psychopaths often have above average intelligence.” Hotch clarified.

“This type of unsub will not have injected himself into the investigation as we often see. He will not be following the case very closely unless his fantasy to Ms. Olivia Hill is disturbed.” Morgan concluded.

The Washington chief detective raised his pen up in the air. “So how come he hasn’t tried to kidnap Ms. Hill rather than kidnapping all these male victims?”

“It’s because his fantasy—transformation if you will—isn’t complete yet. He’s collecting all these different body parts to fit into her perfect male partner. Once that process is complete, he will try to kidnap her next.” Spencer explained.

Morgan took a deep breath. “There is something about him that would be helpful, he has a superficial connection to Ms. Hill. Not enough for her to notice his feelings but enough for him to project his fantasy, possibly a colleague or someone she interacts with on a daily short basis like a delivery man.”

“We suggest not to go public with this information and to re-interview female co-workers to ask if they’ve noticed any untoward or suspicious behaviors from their male co-workers to Ms Hill,” Hotch said as Morgan’s phone started to ring. “Thank you very much.”

With his back turned to the police officers leaving the premise, he accepted the call and put it on speaker. “Prentiss, what you got?”

She sighed. “Another body has been dumped in the Potomac River, skinned from his upper thigh to feet.”

“That completes his suit,” Spencer noted.

“Forensics is currently running his fingerprints in the system to see if we have him in the database. I’ll get Garcia to forward any information she has,” she stated before ending the call.

The two FBI agents turned around to face their stern unit chief for further instructions. “Morgan, you’re with me for the re-interview. Reid, you go back to Ms. Hill’s residence and Reid,—“

“Yes?”

“—keep us updated on any slight disturbance.”

Spencer nodded, gathering his belongings before dashing out of the precinct.

———

Dusk was beginning to settle when Spencer turned off the SUV ignition in front of her residence. Crossing the empty and calm street road, he took note of any rustling noise, flickering neighborhood lights—the lack thereof—and dark corners where the unsub could hide while keeping watch of the doorstep. All the curtains were shut, he observed, as if mimicking a moat bridge drawn up to protect the castle and it’s inhabitants. Steeling his nerves, he knocked on the door and announced his presence.

“Olivia, it’s Dr Spencer Reid,” He called out.

Several bolts were heard being unlocked from the other side before the door fully swung open, Olivia’s eyes darting behind his stature before widening as it settled on his form.

“Oh, uh-hi Dr. Reid, you look—different,” her cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink as she observed his change in attire. Gone was the brown sweater vest that emphasized his lithe form and the lilac button down shirt that was once hidden underneath now had its sleeve pushed up to his forearms. With the vest out of the way and the gun holster secured on his waist visible, he looked formidable, sensual, and dangerous rolled into one. The sharp contrast to the soft spoken and intriguing male that she met this afternoon to the knight and shining armor rounding her living space had her feeling lightheaded with desire.

Spencer sat down at the worn love seat sofa located in her office. “My team is re-interviewing your female colleagues and I’d like to ask you for any strange male colleagues and interactions that rubbed you off the wrong way.”

“I don’t really interact with any other publishing employees beside from my agent and publicist,” she sat beside him with a glass of water in hand. “One of the perks of being a writer is not having to interact with anyone beyond necessary.”

A heavy silence covered their surroundings. Their thighs softly caressing the other, as if whispering the subconscious declaration of intrigue and attraction. Eyes flitting across the room, never meeting each other’s gaze afraid of unconsciously communicating their innermost thoughts.

His palms opening and closing, unsure of what he needs to do and apprehensive of what he wants to do. Hers drumming on her thighs, nervous of the palpable tension around them. He wanted to touch her delicate hand, he realized—to envelope hers in his, to trace patterns on the back of her hand that will never leave a trace but wishing it would, and to never let go.

“Dr Reid, is it too forward of me to ask if you’re in a relationship?” Olivia rushed out to ask, clearly sheepish with her inquiry.

His ears turning red at the implication behind her questioning. “My job and its urgency isn’t ideal for a relationship,” he explained. “Being on call 24/7 and not knowing when I’ll be able to return home isn’t a fair deal for a potential partner. Statistically speaking, divorcees are common in the FBI, especially in the BAU.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

A silence crept between them.

“Spencer,” he clarified, noticing the little scrunch of her nose as if asking him to further clarify. “Call me Spencer.”

She smiled, the kind so infectious that he felt his own lips curling upwards and his filter evaporating into nothing. “Did you know that women in the romance community are more likely than the general population to be currently married or living with a partner?” He articulated as his fingers tapped a rapid beat on his thigh, an outward display of nervousness. “More often than not, most writers are to be in happy relationships. The stereotype depictions of the lonely, lovesick romance writer who pens alluring novels is largely false in narrative.”

“Huh, I’ve always thought the minds behind romance would be the hopeless romantic pouring over their frustrations, hopes, and dreams into ink to escape reality and live out their fantasies,” she countered back.

His body shifted to face hers. “That is not necessarily incorrect. Romance novels are, for the most part, written by women, about women, for women but it also allows the writers to explore who they are as a woman. Who you want to be. Finding out what you can be. Pushing yourself to be more of who you are.”

“So it’s more of self navigation and therapy?”

He nodded, pleased that his intention was understood even if he explained it in a convoluting way. “Yes, actually more like a self discovery and research.”

“Sadly and realistically speaking, I do tend to fall on the stereotype category of being a romance writer,” she shrugged as if it was no big deal. “So Mr Genius, how’d you end up in the FBI and as a profiler?”

His eyebrows scrunched in concentration unsure to what extent he should divulge. “I was recruited and this was the path that I wanted to do.”

“Can you profile me, then?” She smiled, leaning further into him. “I’m no criminal but I’d like to see your job in action. To see if it’s how they portrayed it in the movies, I mean.”

She was obviously flirting, Spencer noted. He was known to be oblivious to these types of advances as Morgan pointed out, mainly rooting from his deep sense of insecurity, but she was making it clear that she felt an attraction to him or maybe he was just projecting his own emotions, he countered in his mind. After all, he didn’t have the typical male physique—muscles that allude a capability to protect and attack. His greatest asset would be his IQ of 187 that slashes into 60 whenever her set of doe-eyed eyes looks into his with such trust and comfort. His hand moved on their own accord, swiping on her lower lip that was being assaulted by her teeth.

Her breath hitched and his hand quickly dropped, a visible flush coloring his cheeks. “That was, uh, that was inappropriate of me—“

“It’s alright, Spencer.”

“I—it’s really not. You—you asked for a profile, yes?” He brought up, desperate to diffuse the atmosphere and change the subject matter. “You’re a perfectionist based on the organization of your home. Your books are a financial success but you still use an old sedan, possibly a hand me down from your father based on the color and make, which tells me you’re frugal with your income, despite the fact that your house is located in one of the pricier neighborhoods—I believe this is your biggest purchase to date—and that you possibly grew up in a middle income family. You subconsciously tap your fingers on your thighs when you’re nervous and you keep your nails short meaning you’re other tic would be nail biting which you’re trying to break. And you mentioned that you fall under the stereotype category of being a romance writer which tells me you didn’t date much during your school years and never felt the need to go through all the usual considered landmarks of being a teenager, kissing under the bleachers and such. Perhaps you’ve had a boyfriend or two, nothing noteworthy for inspiration and romance, so you pour your hopes and dreams into the characters and scenarios you create.”

“You missed one more important piece.”

He titled his head, thinking of what he could have possibly missed.

“You, and my apparent attraction to you. How I’d like to see you again once this situation is through,” her voice trailed off, the sudden confidence evaporating from her body.

There was silence. His intelligent, hyper-active mind not knowing how to respond. Her confession had rendered him mindless and mute.

The lights flickered, as if wanting to escape their bodies as the space in between lessens ever so slightly, before complete darkness and danger shrouded over.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!oc #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #gw fics #ytr fanfic

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blueiscoool · 2 months ago

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Haul of Historic Coins Sells For $176,000 at Auction

A British man who found a massive cache of ancient Roman gold and silver coins while hunting with a metal detector has a lot more modern currency in his pocket after the treasure was auctioned off for $176,000.

George Ridgway, a trained archaeologist, investigated an unusual marking in a recently harvested field in Suffolk, England in September 2019, according to a news release from Noonans Auctions. He knew that a Roman road had once run close to the field, and thought there might be something to find.

Hours scouring the area turned up nothing, he said, but when he shifted his position by just 30 yards, he found two Roman brooches that dated back to the 1st century. Shortly after, he found a silver coin issued by Julius Caesar in 46 BC. Another three hours of searching turned up 160 more silver coins and some pottery fragments.

"I knew I had made an important archaeological discovery and called my dad to guard the site overnight while we waited for an archaeological team to arrive and excavate the site," the 34-year-old said. "It took three months to recover the hoard."

During that excavation, researchers found even more coins, including gold pieces. In total, 748 coins, dated from as early as 206 B.C., were recovered. Alice Cullen, a coin specialist at the auction house, said it was one of the largest hoards of Iron Age and Roman coins found in the United Kingdom. The coins may have been buried by a long-serving soldier in Rome's XX Legion, who were once stationed in what would later be known as Colchester, England, Cullen said. There was a "fierce battle" in the area around 47 A.D., Cullen said, and a victim of the conflict may have been the person who buried the coins.

Sixty-three of the coins were claimed by the British Museum and the Colchester & Ipswich Museum, to be displayed in their collections, and the rest were auctioned. While the auction house expected the sale to garner about $100,000, it actually brought in more than $176,000, according to CBS News partner the BBC.

A coin issued by Gaius Caesar - also known as Caligula - decorated with a portrait of the Empress Agrippina and dated to A.D. 37-38 sold for about $9,295, according to the BBC. Another coin, issued by Claudius and dated to A.D. 41-42, sold for about $6,640.

Ridgway said the proceeds of the sale will be split between himself and the landowner of the site where the coins were found. He said that such a find has been like a dream come true.

"I was inspired by my childhood hero Indiana Jones to start history hunting when I was 4 years old, and I dreamed of finding a Roman hoard since my grandmother bought me a metal detector for my 12th birthday," Ridgway said. "It was an awe-inspiring moment when I realised that I had found one!"

By Kerry Breen.

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matan4il · 11 months ago

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I was going to refer to this Newsweek op ed, written by Doctor Qanta Ahmed, in my daily update post, but when I was looking for which part to quote, I found that it was ALL too important to leave out. So here is all of it:

I was in scrubs from the wet morgue at Abu Kabir when I learned Queen Rania of Jordan questioned whether Israeli children had verifiably been killed by Hamas on October 7. Hugely appealing to the West, ranked among Forbes's 100 most powerful women, among the top ten most followed international leaders on Instagram, dressed routinely by Valentino, Schiaparelli and Dior, and of Palestinian origin (her family is from the West Bank's Nablus), Queen Rania is undeniably a global icon. And her powerful voice became the opening salvo to a chorus of innumerable deniers, a further barbarism dehumanizing the victims of Hamas' atrocities targeting women and girls.

Hearing her strident tone, even as I was surrounded by Israeli Jews, Israeli Christians, and Israeli Muslims still reeling with shock, cut to my core.

Days after the attacks, as a Muslim woman committed to combating Islamism and a physician, I traveled at my own expense to the Gaza envelope to view the aftermath of Hamas' butchery. I examined the cadavers of the murdered and defiled; the corpses of the decapitated and immolated. I spoke with the victims of Hamas, including a former hostage—a Muslim physician—and numerous witnesses to Hamas' express barbarity against women, children, girls, and infants, brutally violated in life, in utero and in death.

I inspected bodies that had been repeatedly stabbed, shot, and crushed. I examined mutilated bodies, restrained with cables, electrical cords, and zipties, still in place post-mortem, and those that had been decapitated and incinerated at temperatures approaching 3,000 degrees Celsius.

Back in New York City, Israeli criminal prosecutor Ayelet Razin Bet Or shared with me evidence compiled in Israel's ongoing investigation into Hamas' crimes. Michal Yaniv, Head of Foreign Affairs on Israel's National Security Council, provided me testimonies recorded by Israeli security officials.

One account, far from unusual, is especially harrowing: A woman who survived the Nova music festival in Re'im witnessed a young woman encircled by Hamas, stripped naked, violated, and manhandled by multiple Hamas terrorists as they gang raped her, repositioning her by the waist and hips, moving from one rapist to the other.

Shuddering at the memory, covering her face, with difficulty, the eyewitness continued: One terrorist pulled the woman's long hair, forcibly arching her neck backwards, fully exposing her naked torso, only to sever both her breasts from her chest with his commando knife. Her entire torso fell backwards, slackened in agony. She may have fainted, though she lived through the mutilation. The disembodied breasts fell to the ground, where terrorists casually played with them.

Sergeant Major Natah Katz from the IDF Rabbinical Unit at the Shura base near Ramle described to me cadavers he received with breasts and genitals hacked off, one with a knife impaled directly into the vagina. The mutilation of sexual organs and breasts, "seemed to be an obsession," he recalled. Dr. Chen Kugel, head of Israel's National Forensic Center has confirmed to me the same.

Indeed, Hamas arrived with orders to mass rape: Phrasebooks belonging to Hamas found in the Re'im area listed phonetic Hebrew commands in Arabic "Take your clothes off!"; " Spread your legs!'; "Get down!" Terabytes of their own video data confirm Hamas raped, amputated breasts, mutilated women's genitals, and committed systematic sexual crimes on both the living and the dead. Necrophilia has been explicitly reported.

Despite all of this, almost two months would pass before the U.N. denounced the October 7 sexual violence during hearings. Congressional and Senate Hearings must urgently follow.

Silence ensures Islamist antisemitism overrides human morality. Silence also grants open season for Hamas to continue these obscene crimes with impunity, as they likely still do this hour upon the remaining 129 hostages in captivity.

Genocidal rape has no context. Contextualization is contemptibly antisemitic and pure misogyny, if not open Islamist sympathy.

Repudiation must reverberate globally. In the meantime, I will not rest until Congress, the Senate, and the U.N. speak in unison on the international humanitarian values protecting women, for only then can the decapitated screams of the tiny girl in Abu Kabir can at last be granted silence.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish

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dani-says-stuff · 1 year ago

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Villisca Axe Murder House

❥ Back to the Control Center

❥ Nate Hardy Masterlist

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

Nate Hardy x fem!medium(?) reader

Summary: You decide to test yourself with this investigation of the place of the gruesome octuple murders... you've yet to deside if that was a horrible idea yet.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: gore, murder, child murder, hauntings, language, probably an inaccurate spirit box session, inconsistent capitalization, my usual grammar warning, and for this fic in particular, I recomend you watch the video before to brush up on your knowlege of what this video exactly was. I will be mentioning some of the research and background, but I will not be going into detail and will be skiping most of the info sections. This is because, due to the sensitivity of this particular haunting and the details surrounding it, it didn't feel right to add it here in this way.

Dialogue Key:

Y/N

Nate

Sam

Colby

Seth

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

It was dark by the time the boys realized they hadn't made the intro to their video yet. So, even though it would have to go about 15 minutes into the video, they decided to record their usual greeting by the wooden sign for tonight's location.

"What's up guys, it's Sam and Colby"

"Tonight we are at one of the most, spooky, haunted houses in the United States, the Villisca Axe murder house"

Sam stepped behind the camera, showing the two guests fade in from the dark behind the sign, "Today we got Nate, Seth," he spins around to where you were, still messing with the car. Not too long ago, you all got pulled over for a light being out, just to find out the light was fine.

You stepped forward when you heard your blonde friend, waving both hands at the camera with a wide smile.

"and Y/N!"

You stepped further - abandoning the weird occurrence with the car, slightly irritated about the ticket you got for what seems to be, no reason - and join the group instead.

"Right now we start a night alone, in this house. We are about to tell you, guys, one of the most insane murder mysteries I've ever heard of."

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

Usually, haunted places didn't have the best energy surrounding them, but that was hardly unusual. The difference between this house and the others was the sheer intensity of the feeling. When entering a location, you usually could tell it was haunted due to the emotions you picked up on.

First of all, there would be way too many, feeling as if you were in a crowded street rather than an empty house.

Secondly, no matter what feeling there was - of a spirit or a residual haunting - there was a layer of grief, sadness, or pain floating above it all. It was hard to explain, but it was almost as if no matter the emotion you picked up on, there was a layer over top of it, a veil of anguish covering all.

This house, felt as if you entered an ice bath.

It was intense and strong, the light feeling that you'd come to associate with the dead surging up through your veins in intense amounts. The coldness of the spiritual atmosphere so extreme, it caused a physical chill to rise through your bones. The change from so drastic, You almost stumbled walking through the door.

Nate noticed. he knew all your quirks by now, and the shiver that racked your body the moment you entered took him by surprise. The shock, quickly vanished when he realized that whatever the intensity he felt in the house, you felt a hundred times over.

He moved to stand behind you, slipping off his jacket and draping it over your form. He couldn't tell if you were cold, if it was the shift, or both, but he hoped that it would give you a sense of comfort no matter what.

You jumped a little when he did so, startled out of the light trance you fell in, trying to pinpoint exactly where in the house the feelings originated. You turned, smiling up at him as you pulled the jacket tighter around yourself.

Unlike the boys, this was your first time in the house. you'd opted out of the tours earlier that day, having a sudden urge to stay out of the home... only wanting to stay in there for as little as you had to.

You were able to brush it off easily, Sam and Colby were so interested in your "gifts" that they quickly agreed when you told them the reason you didn't want to go with them on the tour was so you could test your abilities later, seeing if you could figure it out with no prior knowledge.

Soon, all the boys had entered the room, including Colby who was currently operating the camera.

"So Y/N" Sam spoke, rubbing his hands together with a slight smile on his face, "What do ya' think so far?"

"Well," you sighed, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet, using it as a way to release the feeling of the excess energies surrounding you, "It's a very strong feeling, not like anything I've ever felt before." your eyebrows crinkled slightly, trying to figure out the best way to explain it exactly. "You know when like, you have an overload of feelings? and you can't tell if you are angry or sad or upset?" the boys all nodded. "it's like that, but heavier and darker, it's almost suffocating if I'm honest." you laughed off the last bit, hoping to dispel the intense looks from the other boys.

"Yeah, that makes sense." Colby nodded, "The house is known to have a particularly dark feeling associated with it."

"Yeah, yeah, I could even feel it when we were just doing the tour earlier," Seth added.

Sam, meanwhile, just looked incredibly excited about the whole endeavor. As previously explained, he was probably the most interested in your abilities and was excited whenever something happened with them. "Well, in that case anywhere you think we should check out?"

You laughed softly, "Well, I don't really know anything about the layout of the home or which room is which," you trailed off walking across the room and toward a doorway, approaching the stairs, "but I'm thinking upstairs? I don't know, it seems to be stronger? I guess? the closer I get to them."

You were still facing the stairs, so you'd yet to see the wide-eyed looks from all the boys-- well, all save for Nate. He'd gotten used to it spending more time with you and knew how good you were at figuring things like this out. So, while all the boys looked surprised he just stood there, looking incredibly smug and proud.

"I don't know" you shrugged, always one to doubt things like this. After all, it could just be your nerves tainting whatever you thought you were sensing, "I could be wrong though."

"No, no you're right" Sam rushed excitedly, looking at the door, "The killer would've come in here" he walked over standing beside you, "and would've immediately gone up these steps."

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

It was clear after a bit more information was revealed to you why Nate was acting so strange in this house, and it was all because of one particular suspect who was said to be around the house, Reverend Kelly.

Usually, while the boys were talking about the facts and explaining details to the viewers, you would be able to wander a little. You couldn't see or hear spirits speak like other mediums, but you were able to pick up on emotions.

So, you would take this little bit of time to follow these emotions around the house until you found the specific spot they came from. You'd also use your knowledge of such emotions and energies to help the boys with where to investigate first, and where to steer clear from. However, it didn't seem like you would be doing that tonight.

You tried to walk off almost immediately after you'd gained your bearings from the initial energy shift, trying to walk up the stairs as Sam continues to explain the story in the first room of the house. You were quickly stopped by Nate, who just shook his head as he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you from behind, chest pressed against your back as you both faced Sam.

You looked upward, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "What are you doing?" you whispered, "I was just going to go check things out" You cut yourself off when you saw the grimace on his face, "Is something wrong?"

He would've explained it all to you then since you hadn't heard earlier, but he decided against it, knowing that they'd get to it when they were upstairs in the kid's room. The explanation there would be a million times better than whatever quick filler he could give to you then while Sam was explaining the main story of the home. So instead, he simply shook his head, "You'll hear about it later."

And hear about it later you did. When the group migrated upstairs, you understood perfectly.

It all made sense why Nate wanted to keep you in his sights at all times, why he always seemed to be hugging you from behind, or wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

The Reverend was far from holy and was one of the most corrupt ministers you'd ever had the displeasure of learning about. To sum it up, he had a love for women and a history of doing anything to quench his lust.

You, just so happened to be the only woman in the house.

If it was even possible, your stomach dropped further than it already was and you felt sicker than you already had.

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

A few minutes later, the summary tour for the viewers was over and you all gathered in a room to begin the investigation, the EMF pump turned on and equipment ready to go.

The spirits seemed ready to communicate as well, seeing as things started going off before the camera was ever rolling. Namely, the toy you all found in the laundry basket and the cat ball placed in the closet.

"Can I request something insane for later?" you asked, watching as each piece of equipment by the closet seemed to go off, "Can we try the Estes method in the closet later tonight?"

Everyone turned, all the boys looking at you like you were crazy.

"Yeah... I don't know about that-" Colby spoke up, apprehension clear in his voice as Sam and Seth nodded along.

"We were just talking about how dangerous that closet has been" Nate chimed in cutting off the others.

"Well to be fair... that was because they admitted they were trying to provoke it" you shrugged, "who knows, we might get something good. especially since it seems to be pretty active in the past."

Nate looked wary, his lips pulled in a tight wince unsure of what to say, "I don't know..."

"I mean I'll do it" you spoke nonchalantly looking at the rest of the boys, "Just thought it may be a good idea."

Then the cat ball in the closet went off.

"Looks like they agree" Colby laughed unsure of the situation, and quite frankly a little freaked out. The cat balls usually didn't go off at all, but they seemed to be going off constantly here and they barely even started.

Then the REM pod in the doorway also started going off.

"It's pointing toward the ball" Colby shouted, quickly whipping the camera back and forth, showing the clear path the equipment was starting to make.

You were beginning to regret offering to sit in that closet, senses diluted, and in the dark for that Estes session later.

"Should we put it in the closet-" Sam began to ask, stopping himself short and looking back at all of you with wide eyes, "it just changed directions"

"Do you think it wants us to follow it?"

Sam moved to make a step toward the device and it immediately stopped.

"Dude it stopped as soon as you said it" Seth spoke, equal parts excitement and astonishment in his voice.

Nate just stood there, smiling in disbelief and rubbing his forehead with one arm as the other was wrapped tightly around your waist. his grip tightened slightly each time a piece of equipment went off.

"Oh my god! It wants us to go upstairs!" Sam yelled, realisation strung across his features, "Johnny literally said-"

"Right now?"

"Johny said that 90% of the activity happens upstairs."

"You said do you want us to follow it..."

"That's the only time it left the room," you spoke over the boys dragging Nate behind you as you approached the doorway, "it's telling us to follow it, so I think we should go while it wants to talk to us."

"If there's something here, we're goin"

"We're listening"

You led the group, Sam and Colby tailing the back.

You made your way up the stairs, no real destination in your mind other than 'up'. At the sight of a room not that far ahead, your first thought was to go there... until you felt something guiding you elsewhere.

You tilted your head, pivoting slightly away from that room and walking further down the hall. The air felt more electric here and it only seemed to get stronger the more you progressed down the hall. You recoiled at a sharp chill that went down your spine.

This room. This is the one to go to next.

You turned, facing Nate outside the room, cutting him off before he could ask the question you already knew he would ask, "I'm fine, just a weird feeling" you shrugged off, "Anyway, what's this room? Is it important?"

He was smirking when he realized where you'd lead them, "Are you sure you didn't do any research before?" He walked past you, entering the unfinished room, "Babe this is the attic"

He spoke with so much emphasis and with so little explanation you swore he was making fun of you. Like, 'Oh wow, of all the places in the haunted murder building you brought us to the attic, not you know, the place of the crime.'

Which you totally understood. You weren't quite sure why it felt so weird in the attic either. Maybe it was because it was an older house and falling through a modern home's attic was a legitimate possibility.

You crossed your arms over your chest in irritation, adding in a dramatic eye roll for effect as your boyfriend continued to hop around the unfurnished room. "Yeah, I see that Nate. The lack of real walls and crummy floors really sell that. Come on, let's just go to one of the rooms or something-"

"No, babe" he moved forward, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the attic space, "This is where they think the killer was hiding."

Colby entered the attic after the two of you, the rest of the group being slightly behind the two of you. The tree of you searching the space with the help of your phone's flashlights while Sam and Seth set up the equipment on the landing.

You had ventured to a further back part of the attic when Sam called from outside the door, the faint sound of the REM pod accompanied his words "Yo guys!"

Nate and Colby were closer to the door and entered the hall quicker than you could from the back.

Sam saw you coming toward the door to leave but motioned for you to wait a minute gesturing down at the music box, which was facing into the attic. You understood immediately, stepping to the side out of the range of the doorway.

You were still pretty far back in the attic and it would take you a second to reach the door. It needed to be tested now, and it would be much easier to test if a spirit was actually messing with the equipment if you didn't run the risk of accidentally setting it off or decalibrating the device as you exited the room.

As soon as the music box was turned on the music began to play alongside the REM pod.

"It's pointing to the attic!" Colby exclaimed, showing the bright green light facing the doorway through the camera.

"The theory he could've been in the attic" Seth rushed with wide eyes.

Nate looked toward the camera to elaborate, voice raised a little to make sure you could also hear the information from the other side of the wall, "So this is one of the areas the killer might have been hiding. It's either here or the barn."

"If the killer was in the attic can you make one of these devices stop?"

The two devices dwindled, both completely stopping after a few minutes.

You didn't hear any of the conversations, only being able to make out a few muffled words from where you stood to make sure you didn't accidentally trigger the device. The only thing you heard clearly was Nate explaining what he'd already told you.

But, at the same time that Sam had asked for the spirit to turn off the devices if he was in the attic, you started hearing a different form of communication. A steady series of knocks on the wood panel behind your head.

If you'd known any better, you would've realized the pattern in which the taps came. four, one, three, one. over and over.

Which, just so happened to be the series for the word 'here' in Morse code.

It was after you heard the faint noise of the equipment stop that you spoke up. "C-can I come out now?"

"Yeah, sorry about that Y/N"

Nate stuck his head in the doorway, sticking out his arm to help you out. It took him all of half a second to recognize the slight panic on your face and the white-knuckled grip you held on the sleeves of his jacket- which you still wore. "You alright?"

"Uh" you spoke louder so everyone could hear, "I don't really know what you guys were talking about, but there was some pretty constant- uh- knocking in there..."

"Oh my god- you're joking-"

"No shot"

"Are you serious"

You simply nodded, glancing between the four of them until Sam decided to fill you in, "Y/N... we just asked it if the killer was in the attic."

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

For the next several minutes, you and the boys tried to come up with reasonable explanations for the equipment to be going off like it had been.

After confirming that there was no way to debunk it, the group concluded that the equipment was guiding you all on a tour, retracing the steps the killer made.

At least, until you made it to the kid's bedroom, where none of the equipment was going off at all.

Colby turned to the REM pod placed on one of the beds, "Do you want us to leave?"

and for the first time in that room, a piece of equipment went off.

Sam stood staring at the device, "And look where it's pointing"

"Outside."

None of you freaked out, all of you were shocked into silence. Five minutes of trying to communicate in this room, and it only went off when you mentioned leaving.

Sam moved to collect the equipment when Seth spoke up, "I really think we should do something in the attic"

You nodded, pointing at him, "Yeah, yeah I definitely agree"

"if the killer was waiting in the attic, he was waiting there for a long time. If this activity is residual, he's bound to still have an imprint in the attic. What if we can talk to him via a spirit box or something?"

"Yeah," Nate nodded along, "Plus that's the first place Y/N went to"

"It feels very static-y in there if that makes any sense" you added, "I don't know how to really explain it. I agree with Seth though, if we're going to get anything else tonight, I have a really good feeling it's going to be in the attic."

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

Colby was the first to go under.

The minute he put the headphones on, a noise came from downstairs. One which sounded like the front door slowly swinging open.

Your head whipped up, wide eyes flicking between the others. You didn't have to ask, their own wide eyes answered just fine, but you couldn't stop the words from leaving your mouth, "Did you hear that..?"

Your boyfriend nodded, reaching to you next to him and grabbing one of your knees, which had begun to shake. "What is that?"

"Is someone here?"

"If you're here, can you make yourself known?"

Silence.

"We have the geophone-"

"Mystery"

"If anyone"

"Is here"

"Oh, it sounds like-" Sam tried to speak, constantly being cut off by Colby, speaking on behalf of the spirit box, "it sounds like two people talking to each other"

"Family"

"Yeah, it's sounding like a conversation"

"Me"

"Record that"

The four of you shot up at that.

"No way" you whispered

"We're not even asking any questions" Sam uttered in pure disbelief, "are we talking to anybody in specific?"

"Watching"

"Are you watching us?"

"One flight"

"One flight of stairs?"

"Now"

"Do you want us to go downstairs?"

"Fired"

[Cutting out this portion because... well... above disclaimer. If you watched the video you probably know what this is, it just feels wrong to add and makes me sick to think about.]

"End this"

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Is he with you?"

"Is who with me?"

"Me"

A door slammed downstairs, shocking you to the point that you would've fallen from your chair if Nate hadn't grabbed you.

Seth jumped as well, hitting Colby to get him out of the trance and fill him in on what was going on.

"What?" Colby repeated over and over, his friends were all freaking out, and he had no clue what was going on.

"The door slammed" you breathed out.

"What?" he exclaimed, looking between all of you, "What door?"

"I don't know" Sam panicked, "the one downstairs, It's on camera, I actually don't know."

"It could've been the front door?" you guessed

"No." Colby shot down, shaking his head, "Nah, I closed that one."

Sam and Nate went down to investigate and figure out what could've caused the slam, you, Seth, and Colby staying up in the attic.

[ Also cutting this, nothing special, just pretend reader was just sitting along for the ride when Seth and Colby heard the stuff on the stairs. We're cutting to when they all go downstairs to the last room and Colby goes back to the estes method. ]

You shivered, arms wrapping around yourself as you rock back and forth, "I don't like this room" you stated, "like I genuinely feel like I'm going to be sick in here-"

"That's about right"

"Sweet." you huffed, "Fucking love that."

"I think it was right here"

"No way!"

"What? You're kidding"

"Cold"

"You think what was right here?"

"Please"

"Explain what was right here"

"You walk away"

The second Colby finished the sentence, the REM pod began to go off, pointing out the door.

Your eyes widened, "Do you think the spirit was telling a different spirit to leave?" you looked quickly between the boys, "And thats why the REM pod is going off and pointing away, out the door?"

Seth nodded slowly, "Yeah... yeah that's definately a possibility."

"Who's talking to us right now?" Sam rushed, "Who are you? Can you give us a name? Anything a sign?"

"You said you think he was here, who is he?"

"That would be able to get away with it"

Colby yelled, that was one of the longest and most clear sentences any of you had ever gotten. Even crazier was how much sense it made for the conversation the rest of you were having.

"Who would be the guy that would be able to get away with it?" Sam pushed, stepping closer to Colby just to get cut off by said man.

"Lies"

"Screaming"

"Trust me"

"Give us a name-" Sam insisted.

"Please give us a name"

"-He said... who would be the person who could get away with it?"

"Remember"

"We're remembering" Seth added, voice calm as he could manage, "we remember you."

"Do we know this name?"

"Do we already know who you are?" you spoke up, "Are you telling us to remember because we already know?" you had a sneaking suspicion of what was coming through, and you really hoped it was wrong.

Otherwise, you're really beginning to regret volunteering to do the method in the closet.

"That's the reason why"

"What's the reason why? What was the reason for these murders?"

"Train"

"Were you on the train?"

"Implications of..."

"Implications of the train?" Sam spoke, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, in the end deciding just to ignore that for now. "Who are we speaking with?"

"yes please tell us who you are."

"You know"

"no, we don't" Sam insisted.

"I-" you began, only for Colby to interrupt.

"You know"

"I think..." you whispered, waiting for Colby to interrupt you again. when he didn't, you continued, "I think I know."

"Good job"

"Oh my god-"

"I think it's-"

"No, no"

"Mk" you spoke, fake cheeriness dripping from your tone to hide the discomfort flooding your body, "That's cool. I'm not gonna say it then."

"Paul Miller" Sam spoke, trying to solve it instead, "was he the murderer?"

"Impossible"

"Was it the Reverend George Kelly or was it something-"

"Kill me"

"He was going"

"How would you feel if we took off the cover to the mirror?"

"This one?"

"Yes this mirror"

"We can"

Sam stepped forward, a hand on the sheet to pull it off, "Ok were going to."

"Run"

"I had to run"

"You had to leave the scene of the crime?"

"No choice"

"It was worth it"

"That gave me chills" you spoke, shock rendering you almost breathless at this point

"What was worth it? The murders?

"Who are you?"

"You know"

The session started to run on the lengthy side, so to be safe, you pulled Colby out to converse.

"Did any of that make sense?"

"Yes, you kept saying 'you know him' and you kept saying stuff about railroads and trains."

"Speaking of 'you know him'" Seth began, turning to face you, "what were you thinking?"

"Oh right!" Sam exclaimed, "You said you had an idea of who it was but Colby kept cutting you off" he reiterated for the viewers as well as the man who hadn't been able to experience half of the conversation.

You looked up between all of them from where you sat on the bed, shrinking in on yourself a little, "I just-" you stuttered, "I just have a really good feeling it's Kelly."

"That would make sense why he kept saying no" Nate spoke, "he was a reverend and was probably ashamed of his sins for doing it. Yeah, he was cryptic as hell when he left and ended up confessing to it all, but he was still a preacher... maybe that's why he was saying 'you know' but never actually wanting you to say it out loud."

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

Next, was the part that you had slowly begun to get less and less excited for as the night went on. Now it was your turn to do the Estes method, sitting criss-cross on the floor of the closet.

"This is your last chance-"

"Put out the lamp"

"Do you want us to turn out the light?"

"He's here"

"Who's here?"

Nate thought back, remembering all the times you'd offhand mentioned something to him though the night, and that was that you thought it was playing tricks on you all. It enjoyed how your group would follow it aimlessly through the home and freak out when it set things off, you felt like it was watching you, messing with you, and playing sick a game of tag with you all. So, he decided to ask the question you'd been secretly asking all night long.

"Are you messing with us?"

"Thanks for being here"

"It's fucking with us."

"All over"

"All over the house?"

"Mhm"

Sam jumped, "The cat ball!" he yelled pointing to the closet, "The catball behind her just went off"

You're head popped up and you shook your head a bit, "That wasn't funny at all." you rushed, the boys all began freaking out, thinking the box was saying that when you spoke again "This isn't the box by the way- but I swear to god Nate if you pull my hair again while I'm doing this shit, I'm breaking up with you."

The boys really began freaking out then. All were at least 3 feet from you at the time.

"You'll see why I'm so excited"

"Oh my god" Sam yelled, "It never says full sentences like that-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! And to have so many all in the same night?"

You pulled the jacket tighter around yourself, "It's so fucking cold" you muttered.

"Wait-" Nate gasped, "there was something-" he turned to the closet, "are you behind her?"

"Behind"

"Did you commit these murders because you were a pervert?"

you ground your teeth, "Nate I swear to fucking god" you hissed, "don't pull my hair-" your back quickly straightened, hearing more words flood through the speakers.

"You said this already"

You spoke in a sing-song voice, doing your best to imitate the intonation of the voice you heard through the headphones

"At the beginning"

"The who are you" Sam insisted once more, starting to get irritated by the sheer number of times he'd asked the same question.

"You know"

"I am"

"I'm the Reverend"

Nate dove forward, looking back to the rest of the group now that he was inches in front of you ready to rip the headphones from your head.

"Are we done?" he rushed, eyes wide in urgency, "Can we be done? Can I pull her out? I do not want her sitting in the closet with him behind her- especially when it's pulling her hair and stuff-"

The boys all began nodding, Colby the first to speak, "Yeah, yeah dude, get her out of there like now."

That's all your boyfriend needed to lean forward and take the device off your head, pulling your body from the floor and as far from the closet as he could manage.

You glared at him as he did so, slapping his shoulder once "That wasn't funny. Don't fucking do that-"

"Babe" he grabbed your shoulders, looking you straight in the eyes, "I didn't touch you. I swear."

"Yeah" Sam spoke up behind the two of you, "We were all like, several feet from you."

"Yeah Y/N, no one touched you" Colby gestured to the camera, "We can show you the footage if you'd like."

You were freaked out before, but with that information as well as everything they filled you in on, you were ready to leave. You didn't care about finishing the investigation and you didn't care about any more information they could possibly gain by going any further.

The boys, for the sake of closure and for the sake of answers for the viewers, wanted to continue. You respected it, but you couldn't force yourself to do it anymore and to be completely honest, you were terrified.

Doing investigations with your friends was fun, but this was one you couldn't finish. Not when you felt this sick to your stomach. Not when you potentially had a creepy pervy Reverend standing behind you in a closet pulling your hair. Not when you felt as targeted as you did. Not when you could tell whatever the spirit was, was having fun running all of you in circles.

So instead, while the boys tried the Estes session one last time in the master bedroom, you had taken the keys to Nate's car and was driving back to the hotel. You'd brought some sage on the trip- not too sure how to use it, but you had a feeling it may be necessary for this little road trip of investigation videos.

You don't know why you hadn't brought it with you earlier, but you felt like leaving to get it was more than worth it in this scenario.

You began by smudging yourself, then the hotel room just in case you brought anything with you. Then, you walked to the parking lot, smudging Nate's car as well. The people who saw you probably thought you were insane, but you couldn't care less at the moment.

Better safe than sorry.

When you deemed everything properly smudged, you plopped back into the driver's seat, sage bundle in the cupholder, on the way back to the Villisca House to do the same to the boys.

#nate hardy x reader #nate hardy imagine #sam and colby imagine

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