#yeah the jugular quote got to me. also the to be friend or no and everything tbh haha sorry i like zenos

[astrxealis]

honestly. uh. sometimes i go here ahhdfjdbns over another of ffxiv g'raha's quotes and it is so insane ... he is everything ..... he is so wow

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

And now I’ve watched episode 3 of Walker because of reasons. (You guys asked, that’s reasons.) #1

My review of episode 1 got a lot of positive feedback and a lot of you asked me to cover more episodes! But my review of episode 2 didn’t get much feedback at all. Possibly because episode 2 was boring and you can only make so many funny jokes about the glowy wife before it gets stale, so I get it, it’s fine. It was boring for me too. Hopefully this gets funnier! I actually have high expectations for this episode, since apparently it introduces NotDean. You know, the childhood friend who Walker loves like a brother and is the Han Solo to Walker’s Luke Skywalker. Like, what. Stop comparing Jared Padalecki characters to Like Skywalker 2021 challenge. *insert you keep using that word...*

Anyway, in case you missed it - here are all my reviews of Walker episodes, in chronological order.

EDIT: *screeching* GUYS YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS IN THIS. YOU CANNOT IMAGINE WHAT HAPPENS IN THIS. Read to the end, don’t stop at the padalacting. I’m begging you asdfghjkl

Alright. Let’s start this. Actually I have a thought before we start. You know, I was thinking that episode 3 of Supernatural is when Dean gets genuinely introduced as a person. Sera Gamble and Raelle Tucker were the first to give Dean the personality that stuck and developed into the character that we love. Dead In The Water is, not coincidetally, the episode that sold Supernatural to me. The first couple of episodes were weirdly compelling, without which I wouldn’t have continued watching, but you must understand that I’d never watched horror before. It really wasn’t my genre. I was just watching on the assumption that it would get better at some point, and if it didn’t I’d stop. But Dead In The Water got me. Because that’s when we’re really shown Dean for the first time. The rest is history and now we’re here.

So I wonder what will happen in episode 3 of Walker. Is it going to magically pull a Dean out of the hat and get me?

Let’s start. The Texan countryside. The yellow, glowy light tells us this is a flashback. Closeups of Jared and Gen. He is somewhat concerned. He’s at the wheel of a car, still on the street - a red Mustang. Unlike the red Mustang of the horseman War, it is a convertible. Fun fact: a Mustang was Kripke’s original idea for the Winchesters’ car, but then switched to the Impala for body-in-the-trunk reasons. I am the 😬 emoji.

Actually guys I need to show you a couple Jared faces. I think they’re supposed to be purposely comedic faces, but honestly this is just how he acts normally. I promise I am not coming in this with a bias towards Jared’s acting. I just observe, with my eyes. He was actually good in many Supernatural episodes.

I just can’t see Cordell Walker. I’m just seeing Jared and Gen Padalecki delivering what is a somewhat padalecki acting in front of my eyes and I swear I had to close the video in the middle of this scene and start over because of a sudden attack of second-hand embarrassment.

Let’s continue

Basically, Walker is trying to drive the Mustang, but he is not good at it and the car stops after two meters. He feels exactly how I feel when I watch Walker.

“Damn it!” Jared exclaims, jaredly. I think that this scene is supposed to be set Many Years Ago, because Walker is wearing a backwards cap and Emily has her hair styled like Bad Janet but straighter, which actually says a lot about this show somehow.

God, I wish I could gif the entire scene to show you guys the padalacting. I mean, I could, but ain’t nobody got time for that. Have a bit of the scene.

For some reason she puts this thing on the dashboard, because he “puts your mind at ease”.

He makes more Jared faces, which we’ll skip because I don’t want to spend 7 hours on this.

Wait look at this shot of the car (with some bonus Jared face).

Why does this look filmed by your dad with a videocamera on Christmas afternoon after you received a toy car as a present? I suddenly have a newfound admiration for the directors who did Impala shots on Supernatural because it would seem car shots are not that easy to make. Maybe this is why Supernatural always filmed at night with a black car.

Guys I am telling you, if you need to watch one scene of Walker in your life, watch this scene. It’s so embarrassing. I almost decided to gif the moment of the car going and commenting “nyoom” but the Impala does not deserve this.

Anyway.

Listen, if I have to see thing thing over and over, you have to see it too.

He’s brought the damn thing onto a new cop truck while on a stakeout with Ramirez, who is just as happy about it as any normal person would.

I think they’re outside a strip club, judging from the posters outside.

He keeps quoting lines from the scene with his wife, which is sort of weird since Ramirez is not his love interest. Yet. Oh no. Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t even thinking of doing that. Ramirez has a perfectly fine boyfriend.

Walker says that since they’re sitting there just waiting for the suspect’s movements or whatever, they should use that time to get to know each other, like “favorite movies, the teams you root for, middle names”.

Ramirez is me.

He’s like ~let’s bond~ and Ramirez goes immediately for the jugular and asks how Stella (his daughter) is doing. “Wow” he says. He says he and Stella are “in a good place, I think”. You’re not and we’re definitely not. This is the bad place.

Basically, they’re trying to live in a bubble of ignoring her upcoming court date for the marijuana thing. Ramirez says that the easy route is not a good idea. He’s like, are you speaking from experience? Basically they keep implying Ramirez also has a ~bad girl past, which I can absolutely live without.

Aaand now we see the inside of the strip club. The suspect is there, a lady with a Latinoamerican name, apparently bisexual because she’s surrounded by a woman and a man in underwear, the woman is touching her, it leaves no doubt about it. 😬 Enter the stripper on stage, who captures the lady’s attention.

The stripper is a man. Dressed as a slutty cowboy. There’s glitter.

Yeah, you read it right.

Oh no. No I absolutely change my mind. If you have to watch one scene of Walter, it must be the slutty glitter cowboy stripper.

There’s. There’s a. There’s a slutty glitter cowboy stripper.

The CW could do slutty glitter cowboy strippers and Dean Winchester is not there?!

I repeat, they killed Dean Winchester and then did slutty glitter cowboy strippers in Walker?!

This is a travesty. This is an outrage.

Crime. Pure crime.

Listen, I’m not optimizing these gifs, take these super quick gifs, I can’t possibly spend my night optimizing glitter cowboy stripper gifs. But you need to see.

What’s the target demographic of this show? Texan housewives? The gays? Are they trying to test all the waters and see what happens? Is Walker going to become about gay people and Jared’s character a secondary character in his own show?

Wait

*sweats* Are they really trying to replicate Supernatural in everything after all?

The bisexual lighting is there and all.

The guy in skimpy underwear is distracting. I can’t believe yesterday I saw a Jared interview where he said he couldn’t watch Supernatural with his kids because of all the violence but Walker is a show you can watch with kids. I mean, aside from this scene, Walker is definitely more kid-friendly than Supernatural for obvious reasons. But hey, since Supernatural already was non-kid-friendly, they could have at least put more dudes in skimpy underwear.

You know what, I think they’re just aiming for Texan housewives.

“You’re hotter than Austin asphalt” suspect lady tells the stripper. You know. Something normal people say.

(If Texan people actually speak like this, do NOT tell me.)

Guys, we’re only four minutes in. It’s midnight. I will continue tomorrow...

*screams into the void* These have been the four wildest minutes of my life.

[darling-i-read-it]

Shiizakana

2x09 

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, dead bodies, manipulation 

Author’s Note: I don’t know? What’s going on? My fingers just go and then I reread it and I’m like ‘oh shit i did that’ and i love it sm

I used some direct quotes from the script so some things may seem familiar 

Official Episode Summary :A truck driver's body appears to have been torn apart by two different species of animals working in tandem; Will meets Hannibal's new patient; Hannibal sends Will a test to determine his true self.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

Tag List (is always open!) : @llperfectsymmetryll​ @ericacactus​ @vlightning95​

(not my gif) 

You leaned back against the headboard of the bed. You had woken up and wasn’t able to go back to sleep so you decided just to sit up and stare into the darkness, thinking and hoping that your eyes would get droopy enough to sleep. You didn’t want to have another nightmare if you did go to sleep. You had at least stopped waking up screaming. Will sometimes didn’t even notice now and you would rather him get a good night sleep. He assured you thought you could wake him up whenever you needed to. 

You glanced down at his sleeping face and let out a small sigh. You at least knew that he was something you could trust. Even if he tried to kill your only mutual friend at this point or was sent to jail on murder charges that same friend set him up for. You knew you could trust him to not want to hurt you. 

He woke up with a start. It startled you how quickly he sat up because of how peacefully you thought he had been sleeping before. 

“You okay?” you asked groggily, voice raspy from sleep. He got his bearings and nodded slowly, sitting up beside you against the back of the bed.

“Nightmare,” he muttered.

“What about?” He thought hard and you weren’t sure where his mind had gone.

“Hannibal,” he muttered. “How with love we see potential and through love we allow the loved one to see the potential.” He shook his head. “It probably didn’t mean anything. I think a deer was there.” You laughed a bit and put your head gently against the back of the headboard.

“Dreams can be weird. But they can also be very insightful,” you pointed out. He nodded, mulling over the dream he had just had. He thought about the way Hannibal was tied up and shook the image out of his mind.

“Yeah, I guess.”

-

Will had just gotten out of therapy with Hannibal. It was odd, thinking about that. Will used to tell you every detail of the sessions that he remembered but now you feel odd asking for them. You knew he was trying to get a ploy out of something. You weren’t sure what but you knew it was something. 

“I’ll meet you out there,” you said as you got your papers together. Will nodded and left out of the door. Hannibal stepped outside the office and you glanced up at him. “How was the session? Did you try and manipulate him again?” Hannibal shook his head.

“Not today.” You nodded and put on your scarf, grabbing your bag of paperwork.

“Thank you. I would like to keep him in one piece if I can help anything.” He nodded.

“That I understand.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Hannibal nodded and you waved at him as you walked out the front door. Margot Verger was outside, talking to Will. You walked up to her and gave her a small smile. 

“Hello Margot,” you said, standing beside Will. She gave you a kind smile.

“Miss. Secretary. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” 

“Y/N,” you said and shook her hand. Will put his hand on the small of your back and Margot gave you a suggestive smile.

“Miss. Secretary dating the guy who didn’t kill all those people. Quite a duo.” She gave you each a nod as you chuckled a bit in acknowledgement. “I’ll see you two around.” You nodded and she walked away, into the building. 

You glanced over at Will who was watching her go inside.

“What do you know about her?” he questioned.

“Nothing. I mean, Hannibal isn’t supposed to tell me anything,” you said which basically meant you knew a bit but weren’t allowed to share. Will nodded and you finished your walk to the car.

-

You sat in the house together. Hannibal let you go home just after Will’s appointment even though you were meant to stay longer and wrap things up. You sat together in front of the fireplace, on the floor surrounded by dogs. Every chance that you got you spent time with him after realizing the value of that time when he went to prison.

“Do you have any regrets?” Will asked. The same question he had asked Hannibal when therapy began that day. He had an arm over your back, leaning against you and the couch where you were both keeping yourselves up. 

“Yes. Doesn’t everyone?” Will looked into the fire that he had built to guard against the cold outside days. 

“I have so many regrets,” he whispered. 

“Regret comes with life.” 

“That’s what Hannibal said,” he whispered. You looked at him. His eyes seemed far away. “I regret what I did in the stables.” 

“You regretted pulling a gun or you regret letting Hannibal stop you from pulling the trigger?” Will let out a small sigh and his eyes finally met yours. 

“You were there,” he said. “You saw a part of me…” 

“That I knew was there,” you said honestly.

“What would you have done if I pulled the trigger? I wanted to. I still want to. Hannibal would have covered for me and I can’t tell what you have done.” You looked away from him. You hadn’t thought about it. You wanted him to kill the social worker. You thought that the man deserved it more than most. You knew how the justice system can fail. But still, would you have covered for Will after?

“I wouldn’t have let you go back to that hospital,” you said honestly. “I don’t know what I would have done to ensure it. Probably anything I needed to.” You looked back at his eyes and he nodded, pleased enough with that answer. 

“Are you out of hot cocoa?” he asked as he looked at your cup. You looked down at it and nodded.

“Yes sir I am.” He moved his hand away from behind you and took the cup out of your hands.

“I’ll put the cup in the sink. Do you want anything?” You shook your head.

“No, thank you. You’re very kind Mr. Graham.”

“Only for you.”

-

You walked beside Will from your car into the crime scene. You noticed Hannibal getting out of his car as well. You were all tucked in heavy coats from the weather. Will and you were both wearing beanies to hide your ears from the air. Hannibal was wearing a fun hat that you thought looked rather silly. 

“Hannibal, I love that hat,” you called as he met up with where you and Will were walking. 

“Thank you very much,” he said and you smiled. You stuck your hands in your pockets and approached where Jack stood. He turned to all three of you and seemed amazed that you were together. He stifled it quickly though.

“It snowed all night. There are no tracks. You sure it was an animal?” Will asked as he came to a halt.

“Severance of the jugular and carotids, esophagus destroyed. The bite almost severed his head,” Zeller said. 

“Evisceration was performed by large, non-retractable claws, so we’re looking at a wolf or a bear,” Price finished. 

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t afraid of humans. Not anymore.” You eye the corpse-icle on the cab of the truck.

“Don't wolves and bears drag away their kills? To eat?” you asked. 

“Unless it went mad. A rabid animal attacks its victims at random and doesn't’ eat any part of them,” Hannibal suggested. 

“There was no eating here. We found just about everything. Viscera was exposed, belly was laid open, but no sign of gnawing or rutting,” Zeller explained. The body's guts were sprayed everywhere but the cold had taken up most of the damage that you could see. Except the things that Price and Zeller hadn’t unearthed already.

“Found the same wound patterns on recent livestock mutilations in the area. Evisceration, dismemberment yet everything accounted for,” Price added.

“Since when does the FBI get involved in animal attacks, Jack?” Will asked the question you were all thinking. 

“When somebodys holding the leash of whatever’s doing the attacking.”

-

You and Will drove together to where they were holding Peter Bernardone. You got out of the car with him but leaned against it, looking over at him.

“I think this might be best handled with just you,” you muttered. Will looked over the front of the car at you.

“Why would you think that?” he questioned. You shrugged.

“You and Peter have the same problem. The same intention, for better or worse. He might open up to you more.” Will nodded and looked up at the large building. 

“Come inside anyway. Wait in the lobby for me.” You nodded.

“Sure, of course.” 

-

The next crime scene seemed just as gruesome than the last. Will was no longer convinced of the animal thing that was being pursued, he was wondering much more about the person behind the supposed animal.

You waited back beside Jack as Will did his thing. You glanced over at the man, surprised to find yourself here. Beside him, with Will in the situation you wanted him out of so much.

Will stepped out of it and turned around to you and Jack.

“It’s not an animal. It’s a man who wants to be an animal,” Will whispered. 

-

Will walked into the office as you sat at your desk. You had your feet up, drinking out of your water bottle.

“You don’t have an appointment,” you said. “What can I do for you?” He walked up to your desk.

“Is Hannibal busy?”

“No sir.” Will nodded and went to open the door before turning to you.

“I’m not here on an appointment. If you wanna come join.” You raised an eyebrow and pretended to think about it.

“Well if you insist handsome.” You got up out of your chair and Will opened the office door. You both walked inside. 

“What do I owe the pleasure to see both of you in my office?” Hannibal questioned.

“I work here,” you answered.

“And I am a patient.” 

“And we are dating,” you finished off. You sat on the desk while Will leaned against it beside you. 

“The murder recently, not a clean one,” Hannibal said. “No beat is more savage than man when possessed with power answerable to his own rage,” he muttered. 

“It’s not rage. Rage is an emotional response to being provoked. This is something else,” Will explained. 

“What is it?” Hannibal asked.

“Instinct. It’s the way he thinks.” 

“The way any animal thinks depends on limitations of the mind and body. If we learn our limitations too soon, we never learn our power,” Hannibal inquired. 

“He tore his victims apart didn’t he? I’d say he learned his power,” you said. 

“He claimed his power. Can you imagine tearing someone apart or would you prefer to use a gun?” 

“Is this a question to just me or also Y/N?” Will asked, a small sly smile on his face. 

“Both of you I suppose.” 

“Guns lack intimacy,” Will stated. 

“And it’s instant. Doesn’t allow to watch eyes drain,” you whispered.

“You set an event in motion with a gun. You don't’ complete it,” Hannibal said. You nodded, fingers wrapped around the desk. What an odd question that seemed so normalized in this room.

-

You were inside doing the dishes when you heard a car pull up. You looked at Will, who was sitting on the couch. He looked at you.

“Were you expecting company?” you questioned. He shook his head.

“I was not.” 

You put the dish down and dried out your hands, following Will to the door. You stepped outside together and the sight of Margot Verger came to your eye. You were surprised, very surprised. You had barely given the woman a second thought and now she was at your doorstep. 

“Sorry for the intrusion. We met outside of Dr. Lecter’s office,” Margot explained. 

“I remember,” you muttered.

“How did you find us?” Will questioned.

“Turns out, you are famous Will.” 

“You’re not exactly anonymous yourself, Margot,” Will said. So he had googled her mostly likely. You had as well.

“It’s cold. You have any whisky?” 

-

You, Margot and Will all held a glass. The two of them sat across from each other in the chairs while you leaned your back against the kitchen counter. 

“What’s the heir to the Verger meat packing dynasty doing at our door?” you asked her. She gave a small annoyed look, not at you but seemingly at existence.

“My brothers the heir, not me. I’ve got the wrong parts and wrong proclivity for parts,” she explained. Will liked her. She was frank, simple. You liked that about her too but you weren’t sure if you exactly liked her.

“Didn’t answer my question,” you retorted. 

“I’m here for a character reference. Patient to patient. To the secretary I suppose. What do you think of Dr. Lecter’s therapy?” That was a question you left entirely up to Will.

“Depends what you’re in therapy for,” he admitted. 

“I’m in therapy for all sorts of reasons. The Vergers slaughter eight-six thousand cattle a day and thirty-six thousand pigs, depending on the season. That’s just the public carnage.” She tapped her foot against the ground in time. 

“What’s your private carnage?” Will questioned. Margot glanced at you, like she had just been expecting Will to be here. Still, she spoke with courage. 

“I tried to murder my brother.” Will and you both studied her.

“I assume he had it coming,” Will suggested.

“Did he ever,” she scoffed. She paused a moment. “What’s your private carnage?” Will thought about answering. He glanced at you and you shrugged, taking a sip of your glass.

“I tried to murder Dr. Lecter.” 

“See now, that’s interesting.” Margot mulled over this. “Did he have it coming?” Will debates answering that and doesn’t.

“What do you think?” 

“I can't’ say that I know.” 

-

You sat patiently in your home. You were flipping through a book, wondering if you had the desire to put brain energy into reading it. You and Will were simply existing as you had been denied so long with the whole prison thing.

You had just decided to grab some food when your phone rang.

“Hello?” you asked, voice distracted as you walked to the kitchen. You walked over to Will and put your cheek against his shirt, kissing it lightly.

“Y/N?” Hannibal spoke. You pulled away from Will slowly but he noticed your hesitation for the phone call.

“Yes?” 

“I need you to do me a favor.” Will looked at you but you didn’t look at him.

“Yeah?” 

“I need you to come into the office and grab a very important thing I forgot. I would go myself but I have dinner boiling and I hate to ruin a good dish.” You nodded and glanced at Will. 

“Alright. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Text me the details.” You hung up the phone. “I have to get something for Hannibal and bring it to him,” you told Will.

“This late?” 

“He said it was important.” You slipped on your shoes. “You wanna come?” He shook his head and gestured to the dogs.

“I’ll hang out with the dogs.” You nodded and grabbed a jacket. 

“Be safe,” you said and he gave you a look. You walked out onto the porch and started toward the car when you stopped. You looked out at the darkness of the woods and came to a slow stop. 

Something was wrong. 

You weren't sure what but something was wrong. You got into the car and forced the feeling out of your mind. It was probably nothing. You pulled out of the driveway and started down the road.

You made it about two minutes before you felt an overwhelming urge of dread. You closed your eyes for just a second before turning around in the dead end street, going back to the house. You saw Will running back into the house as you pulled up, Buster in his hand and the rifle in the other. You parked quickly and ran inside after him. 

“Will?” you called. He met your eyes and you looked down at the Buster who seemed hurt. “What-” Will grabbed your arm and pulled you toward him before pushing him behind the counter.

The window broke.

-

You sat in a chair at the dinner table of Hannibal’s home. Will stood behind the chair of the head of the table. 

Hannibal opened the door and you both looked up at him. Hannibal's eyes landed on the dead body of the man who Will had killed this evening. The man that you had helped him kill. The man who had attacked you in your home.

“I send someone to kill you,” Will started. “You send someone to kill me.” 

The air was tense. You were tense. They were tense.

“Even steven.”

2x10

[alexthepartyman]

Fine Line

Chapter Two: Hold it, focus.

“I was teaching an in-serivce at the Baltimore field office when this came in,” Derek tells us as we walk through the house. “Baltimore PD’s seen some pretty grisly stuff, but never anything like this. We got two bodies ID’d as William and Helen DiMarco.” I look around, the house seems very antiqued. “Retired, lived here for thirty-seven years, no kids.Neighbourhood reports a white male, twenty to forty years old, fleeing the scene, and I quote, hopped up on those damn drugs.” 

“Eyewitness accounts are notoriously unreliable.” 

“So far, it sounds like a standard double homicide. Why are we here?” Aaron asks as we walk up the stairs and into the master bedroom. I note the blood smeared on the walls. 

“Massive overkill.”

“You don’t say.” 

“Helen DiMarco was found here, tied to the chair in front of the vanity. No defensive wounds. Ligature marks around the wrists, one clean lacertation from ear to ear.” 

“She was either too weak or she knew she wouldn’t make it,” I comment. “But that is a weird amount of overkill.” 

“Looks arterial. Probably the carotid,” Elle says. “At least she went quickly.” 

“The husband, William, was found in the shower. But he wasn’t quite as lucky.” I look into the bathroom, noticing the shower floor covered in blood, dried blood splattered on the glass sides and door. Yikes, it looks like the aftermath of the shower scene from Psycho. This amount of blood outside of a human body makes me nervous. “Ligature marks on the wrists and ankles and one long laceration up the abdomen through both layers of muscle.” 

“Evisceration - that’s typical of disorganised behaviour.”

“Despite all the blood, this crime scene shows method, order, control. I’d say it’s pretty organised.”

“There was also evidence of torture with the husband. Burns, contusions, lacerations. You name it, this guy tried it.”

“If torture is the unsub’s signature, the methodology is usually unique. A person who burns someone usually doesn’t use a knife.” 

“So maybe he have more than one killer, or we have one killer with more than one personality,” Aaron says. 

“We also have three victims. Blood on the vanity, wife’s body was found there, husband was in the shower. From the looks of the level of the ring in this tub, whoever was in it lost thier entire blood volume.” 

“I’d say that about all of the victims,” I add, peering into the bathtub. 

“Approximately ten point six pints.” 

“Which means the victim was dismembered.”

“Pints?” I ask. 

“It looks like our guy took all the parts with him.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay, so I’ve got Helen DiMarco tied to the chair,” Derek says. “He probably killed her first.”

“To prove to the others that he had no mercy. Psychological torture before the physical pain.”

“Only there was no satisfaction from her death.”

“The death was too quick. Arterial, jugular, trachea, she died within seconds, especially with a cut like that.” I answer. 

“The husband...with him, he took his time. There doesn’t seem to be any wasted effort, no hesitation on the unsub’s part. I mean, Gideon, look around. What he did...it’s a lot of work. We’re either dealing with a professional or -”

“A pure psychopath.” Uncle Jason stares blankly at the bloody shower. “Nothing more we can do here until the third victim turns up. I’m guessing there’s a connection to him.” 

“He doesn’t want that victim identified.” 

“Have Garcia go through open files in Maryland, see if any of the involve this level of torture.”

“Got it.” 

“Have her check the surrounding states as well. If...the guy’s a pro, why do jobs only close to home?”

“How far back do you want her to go?”

“At least ten years. Guy’s no rookie,” Uncle Jason answers, walking out of the bathroom. 

“Where is he going?” I ask.

“I don’t know, kid, but you should stick around here.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Third victim was positively ID’d as a low-level mob guy,” Derek reports. “Frederick “Freddy” Condore. He was the nephew of the older couple. Body parts were found in seven different trash cans two blocks from the crime scene.”

“Were they able to completely reassemble the body?” Spencer asks. 

“Killer didn’t keep any trophies.” 

“Is there any evidence he got off?”

“No.”

“Garcia has a number of unxolved murders in DC, Virginia, and Maryland over the past fifteen years. Many of them have ties to organised crime, all different MOs.” 

“What’s the connection?” Elle asks. 

“Torture. Marks on the ones are consistent with the same cutting tool.” 

“Tortured victims, most tied to organised crime...no signs of sexal sadism.” 

“Hitman,” I answer. 

“Excuse me?”

“You’re looking for a hitman.” 

“No, a hitman doesn’t need to torture to get the job done.”

“Two things - Baltimore just forwarded a sketch of the man running from the scene, and uh, you’ve got some agents out there who think you’re poaching on their turf,” JJ cuts in, hanging Jason a sketch. 

“I’ll handle it.”

“Doesn’t federal trump over local?” I ask, looking up from my book again. 

“Come on, we’ll set you up in my office,” JJ offers, grabbing my backpack.

“Why?”

“Because you’re gettin distracted from your school work, and Aaron said you can’t be here if you can’t get your work done.” 

“JJ, I can do my work, I promise,” I tell her. Kids don’t steal my assignments and cheat off of me for nothing, you know. 

“So, we just going to drop it?” Derek asks as Jason comes back and approaches the whiteboard. I slip my bookmark in place and put my book away. 

“These guys don’t know what they’re dealing with.”

“Our unsub is male, intelligent, organised, and methodical. He has the confidence of a man who’s been killing for a long time. Only victim removed from the scene is Freddy Condore, indicating some tie to him. Elle, you and Reid stay on Condore’s background with Garcia. Dig deep, see what turns up.”

“Condore worked as a supervisor at a scrap metal yard in Baltimore. It’s owned by a guy named Michael Russo, boss of a small mob crew. I’m gonna grab Hotch and go check him out. Jamie.” I nod and throw my bag over my shoulder, jumping from my chair. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Michael Russo?” Aaron asks. “Agents Hotchner and Morgan, FBI. This is our intern, Rossi.” 

“What do you want?” Michael asks.

“Freddy Condore.”

“He didn’t show up for work today. He didn’t call, nothing.” Well...you can’t exactly make a phone call when your body is divided between seven trash cans. 

“Probably because he, his aunt, and his uncle were murdered last night,” I state. 

“Really? Too bad.”

“Yeah.”

“I can tell you’re all busted up about it.”

“Look, I don’t speak smart-ass, so you got something to say to me…”

“It was a professional hit. Either you’re in charge of your business or you’re not.” 

“What kind of business do you think I’m in, huh? Look around. I’m in scrap metal. It’s all about recycling. That’s where the money is, my friend. Saving the earth.”

“You’ve got a big problem. You know, the mob isn’t what it used to be.”

“Ain’t easy always fighting for respect, is it?” Derek steps closer to Michael. “You always gotta fight for what’s yours. One of your boys steps out of line, tsk, tsk, tsk. You hit him hard, you make it count, right? Is that what happened to Freddy?” The man chuckles.

:Look. You got a case to make, run along, get your papers, and come back with the bracelets. Otherwise, I got a business to run.” The two men walk away from us.

“They don’t dress scrap metal,” I retort.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Derek kicks the door in, and he and Aaron storm in, guns pointed. “CLEAR!” Aaron yells. 

“Copy that.” 

“It’s clear here.” 

Aaron and Derek holster their weapons. “Morgan, this is weird. There’s nothing here.” I step into the room and look around, finding a barren home. “It’s like nobody lives here...guess he wasn’t expecting company.” 

“Something’s wrong?” 

“Yeah, I know.”

“Look at this place. It’s an artifical dwelling...to match an artifical past.” We start searching through everything, and I hear Derek tapping on a wall, before a loud thud. 

“Derek, what the - what the fuck? Why did you punch that?” I ask, peering up from the other side of the oven. 

“Hotch!”

“Yeah?” 

“We got a hot weapon. Jamie, get back.” Derek gently pushes me away as Aaron approaches us. He pulls out a towel and sets it on the stove, unwrapping it to reveal a gun and a cartridge. “Oh, no.” 

“What? What is that?” I ask.

“It’s a Glock nineteen. And this round is standard law enforcement issue.”

“So you’re saying Baker’s an undercover cop.”

“I’m saying I did eighteen months deep cover, and this place has got all the makings of a crash pad.”

“That does make a lot of sense. You can tell a lot about a person by how they decorate their house and if you just have nothing...then they can’t figure you out.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What the hell is wrong with you people?” A guy with a yellow tie bursts in, slamming the door behind him, I can hear him over my music.

“Sorry?”

“I told you, this is my case!” 

“Alright, first of all, don’t shout at me,” Aaron says, rising to his feet behind his desk. I sneakily pause my screamington playlist so I can hear this whole thing. “And secondly, you don’t decide what cases the BAU works on.”

“You ran my agent’s gun through IBIS?” I look out of my periphreal and see Uncle Jason standing outside the office door with files in his hands. 

“Cause I wanted to know who he worked for, and now that I do, I’d like to talk to him.” 

“You don’t have him.”

“No. You don’t know where he is?”

“He’s missing,” the man says, sitting down by me and sniffling. Uncle Jason opens the door and lets himself in, closing it afterwards. 

“How long?”

“Twelve hours.” 

“Before or after the murders?” I look back to my book, scanning the words to pick up where I was.

“You think Jimmy’s a suspect?” 

“Well, there’s a sketch of someone who looks an awful lot like him leaving the scene.” 

“That’s because he was there. After. Look, he ran into a couple of Baltimore detectives, and they made him while he was with Condore. Now, Jimmy tried to play it off, but he didn’t think that Condore had bought it, so he wanted to  go back and talk to him. When he saw what was left of the DiMarcos, he called us for a pickup. We showed up. He didn’t.” 

“You think he ran?” Aaron asks.

“No. Jimmy’s too experienced to run without contact.” Contact, contact, contact, con...con...con-tact. No, that can’t be it. Con-ca...that sounds even worse. “If he’s not calling in, then someone’s keeping him from doing it.” 

“Who’s Jimmy Baker’s target?” Uncle Jason asks. 

“Michael Russo. We’ve been after the guy for three years. Jimmy’s been under for almost two.” 

“We talked to Russo yesterday. He seemed genuinely surprised by the murders.”

“And you bought that? Let me tell you a little something about Michael Russo. The guy is a liar, and a good one. If he didn’t do it, then he knows who did. Oh hell, you know what? I’m wasting my time with you. You obviously don’t get it.”

“Agent Cramer, we’re not the enemy. Please sit down,” Jason says, blocking the door. Agent Cramer sits at Aaron’s desk, and Jason joins him. “We;re dealing with a very dangerous killer here...and we need your help. You know these people better than we do.” 

“This guy - if he is what you say he is and he has Jimmy, did he kill him already?”

“We don’t know.”

“I’ll help you in any way that I can. You help me get this man back to his family.” I pull off my headphones and put my book away again, grabbing my bag to go hang out with someone else.

“If it’s any comfort, Agent...I knew he was lying. They didn’t dress scrap metal,” I say, before walking out of the office.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re gonna need a bigger board,” Penelope says, bringing in a cardboard box. 

“Please tell me you brought some breakfast.”

“Huh. Trust me, sugar, you’re not going to want to eat when you see what’s in here. What is Jamie still doing here, I thought he had school?” Penelope asks, turning to me.

“Two day weeks for the rest of the month. Doctor wants me to take things slowly,” I answer. 

“This place is not slow, Jamie. You should be staying home with your dad.”

“He thinks it’s good that I get out. As long as I’m with one of you guys, I’m fine.” 

“How many more are there?” Derek asks Penelope. 

“Well, I’ve gone back fifteen years, and there’s over a hundred.” 

“A hundred unsolved murders?”

“Yeah, that we know of. And then there’s more coming in.”

“I can help bring in boxes,” I offer.

“Sorry, little noodle. You have to focus on school, and you can’t do any heavy lifting.” I pout at Penelope, who ruffles my mop of hair. 

“Torture’s consistent. You know, we thought this guy might have been at it a while, but this many victims, Garcia?” Derek sighs. “John Wayne Gacy killed at least thirty people. This guy’s more than tripled that.”

“Yeah, but this guy gets paid for it. He’s a hit man.”

“No...he’s more than that. Not all these victims were mob hits. You know, my guess is that he started hunting when he was really young...perfected his craft...moved on to bigger prey. Garcia, look at this, there’s no hesitation in the wounds, one clean cut through flesh and bone.” 

“Okay, so what does that tell us?”

“Most people wouldn’t imagine doing something like this to another human being, but this guy, he doesn’t even flinch. He’s got no conscience.” 

“Is that psychopathy or sociopathy?” I ask. 

“Sociopath. We’ve got ourselves a serial killer with the perfect career. Russo has no idea what he’s dealing with. I think we can shake him. Keep looking. Jamie, stay with Penelope and do your work.” He says, ruffling my hair and walking out of the room.

“Do I really get that distracted that easily?” I ask. 

“Yeah, you do.” My phone beeps and I peer at it, finding a text from Cal. “Give the phone. Ooh! A text from a boy!” 

“Penelope!”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Is this gonna work?” Elle asks.

“The beam is reflected off the pane according to the law of optics.” 

“Yeah, the angle of instance is equal to the angle of reflection.”

“Uh-huh. Is it gonna work?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“We’re gonna find out right now,” I comment.

“I need to see you tonight. I’ll call you from a secure line.”

“Apparently, it does.”

“Hey. Listen, you brought a lot of heat taking down Freddy like that...What - I’m dealing with the feds...Listen, meet me here at the office...they don’t know nothing...I’m dealing with them...stop being paranoid, Vinnie…”

“Bingo.”

“No. Vinnie.”

“Look for either VIncent or Vincenzo. Mob members are usually Italian, so focus on names of Italian origin...and keep it around Baltimore, look for a rap sheet indicating sociopathy to this level,” I ramble. 

“Well, he’s got eleven associates named Vincent,” Spencer says, collecting files. 

“No, make that ten. Vincent Cellito died last summer,” Elle corrects him. “You know, here’s something. What can you tell me about Vincent Sartori?” Elle then gives Penelope a look of surprise. “I was still drinking that.”

“Not only is this equipment expensive, it’s also extremely sensitive.”

“Don’t leave your coffee on the files next time,” I reprimand her. 

“Vincent Sartori.” 

“Currently doing six at Dannemora for racketeering.” 

“How about this Perotta? There’s not much on him.”

“Can you get into those records?” Elle asks Penelope. 

“Despite the fact that they were probably expunged, she can find the faintest echo of deletion and successfully re-create the file, thereby sending us all to prison for computer felony fraud counts.”

“We can make bail. Garcia?”

“Already in. Alcohol addiction at fourteen. Violent outbursts. Assaults. Once threw a molotov cocktail at someone sitting in their car.” 

“That sounds like a party,” I comment, not looking up from my book.

“Several notations for aggression. He once scheduled a visit to an infirmary to gain access to a boy who looked at him for too long?” 

“No hear, no remorse. Quick temper. And he was smart enough to stay off the radar as an adult. Paranoid personality. He could be our guy.” 

“There’s absolutely no information on him as an adult. No driver’s license, no utility bills, nothing. It’s like he became a ghost.” 

“Let’s just hope that they can catch them.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This was all in his van?”

“Yep. The guy wasn’t exactly neat.” 

“Classic anti-social personality.” 

“What are these tapes?” I ask. 

“I don’t know. Why don’t Reid and Garcia take a look, let us know, alright?”

“Yeah. Movie night. I’ll make popcorn.” 

“I’m gonna join movie night,” I comment. “I’m not innocent, Derek, and I don’t need to tell you how.” 

“You’re twelve.”

“Fourteen. In case you haven’t forgotten, I’m not like the other kids, either.” My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to see an image from Jasmine, a drawing of us and our friends. 

“Is that the boy?” Penelope asks.

“No,” I remark, typing back a quick ‘looks awesome!’ before tucking my phone away again.

“A boy?” 

“Derek! It’s not a boy!” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You got that address?”

“In Glen Burnie like you thought.”

“Yes.” 

“It looks like Frank Perotta died in a suspicious hunting accident with Vincent, he was seventeen, it was like, thirty years ago.” 

“My guess is that it was no accident.”

“Well, you said he was looking for bigger prey, and it looks like he found it.” 

“Garcia...you’re my girl. Thank you. Jamie, keep it up, get ready for school. It’s Thursday morning.” Derek kisses her head and then leaves, closing the door to the cave behind him.

“I’m gonna need, like, five energy drinks to get through today,” I groan, throwing my head back and taking a light spin in the chair. 

“What are you even doing on my system?”

“Helping. I heard you say Frank Perotta and I just...did it. I’m gonna head to the bathroom, try to look like I haven’t been awake for the past three days. Gym class first thing in the morning fucking sucks ass.” I tell her, kissing her head and walking out of the cave with my bag on my shoulder. I stop at the glass doors to the bullpen, watching as officers take a man away in handcuffs, before stepping into the bullpen and heading to Derek’s desk, nicking his 3-in-1 from his go bag. 

“Why are you stealing Derek’s...soap?” Elle asks me from her desk. 

“Is he coming yet?” I ask.

“He’ll be a few minutes. What are you doing?”

“I was going to use the gym showers so I don’t go to school and people think I live in a cardboard box and then hitch a ride to school from Grant, but if you’ve got better ideas-”

“Come shower at mine and tell your dads.” 

“I only have the one dad.”

“You mean Hotch and Gideon aren’t your dads, too?” She jokes. “Just come on, I’m headed home, anyways, I’ll take you to school.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I insist. Besides, Grant and Spencer are probably going to want some time alone.” I sigh and pull out my phone as Elle grabs her things. 

“Hey, Dad, so I’ll be home tonight...I’m getting ready at Elle’s house this morning...the case just ended…”

“Make sure you eat, and tell Aaron and Jason where you’re going. How long was the case?”

“It started Monday morning, and I’m so...I’m gonna need a nap when I get home, we had to deal with the mob in Baltimore, and… I slept, I promise, I’ll make Elle get me an Egg McMuffin or something.”

“Alright, piccolo, just make sure you’re taking better care of yourself. I left yesterday to go to another signing, so go home after school and feed the dogs, and if you need a ride home, call one of yourr brothers or the BAU. And get a decent night’s sleep.” 

“I will. I love you, Dad, I’ll see you next week.” I hang up and put my phone in my pocket and climb into the passenger seat of Elle’s car. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t eat breakfast. Something’s wrong.” 

“Nothing’s wrong!”

[illegiblewords]

Did this fight and I swear to god Zenos has become “I need an adult” incarnate.

I actually have a fair number of thoughts about him, and I have a few of the quotes that made me the player go 8[ real hard. My guy in-game is a very simple man who at this point probably just wants to lie down and take a nap and then this.

So first, I don’t know that the devs sat down and went “yes we’re going with X clinical diagnosis“ or anything but deadass Zenos screams antisocial personality disorder to me. He talks a lot about the world feeling empty and meaningless without a worthy opponent and everything he does is basically in pursuit of either finding or engineering a worthy opponent. He also very obviously does not feel empathy or remorse for the suffering of those around him, let alone being the cause of it. Criminals and serial killers who have Antisocial Personality Disorder if I remember right very much have flattened affects and have learned to fake expressiveness and are easily bored/left feeling empty in part because of their utter lack of empathy. One of the treatments involves putting them from a young age into a kind of job that encourages them to face challenges and be rewarded for skill in that job with consistency because of this, and they tend to do well in military, political, business, or similar jobs again if I remember right. There are other things that tie into antisocial too of course, this is me just going with what I remember off the top of my head. But Zenos being so into combat and military shit I think ties to that need for self-challenge and reward for success.

Additionally, I do remember that the reason a lot of (but not all of course) people who have antisocial personality disorder end up with violent behavior is because violence gets their adrenaline pumping and that actually gets them to feel SOMETHING. They get a rush from danger that normally isn’t there, and that can be addictive. So with Zenos, it really read to me like that sort of thing was happening. On top of that, the way he talks to the Warrior of Light makes it insanely clear to me that he can’t even imagine them having a different way of thinking than him. This ties into the whole no empathy thing. In the real world, my sense is that the only way someone with antisocial personality disorder can even approach understanding another person is with treatment and doing a kind of thought exercise like “okay so if I was in X circumstances and these things happened to me and I cared about this because Y made me feel good for some reason... how would I feel?” It’s this big convoluted thing and requires being able to draw equivalencies and use hypotheticals.

Zenos very much is not capable of that.

On top of all this, I think Zenos probably wound up as skilled as he is because he specifically only got that rush and excitement from getting better and better in combat. As an heir to Garlemald, he had the top instructors they could provide so for a while in all likelihood that gave him some structure.

But then he got too good, and no one could challenge him anymore. And when he was placed in a military position, he was already at the top. No one could offer any further challenge. It was probably deeply boring and more than that, empty feeling.

Hence him using his power specifically to try and cultivate an opponent who could fight him on an equal level. If he loses and doesn’t die, that gives him some direction again. He has a goal to aspire to that makes him feel something.

There’s a reason he says he lives for moments of truly challenging combat.

Also. And I’m gonna show this in a hot second. It makes a lot of sense to me that Zenos, finally feeling excitement brought by another person, crossed some wires and is turned on by the whole thing. For him specifically, I get the sense he has a kind of one track mind and if someone isn’t an equal fighter to him he finds them utterly uninteresting. Like he might find the physical feeling nice but he could get that alone too. I’d expect sex to be an emotionless thing for him generally. Situation with the Warrior of Light honestly I think he probably didn’t know exactly what to do with it because the whole thing caught him off-guard.

...

Anyway.

THE MOMENT WHEN THINGS GOT KIND OF ARGUABLY SEXUAL AND OVERALL MOOD BECAME “I’M TWELVE AND WHAT IS THIS”:

It fills you even now, doesn’t it? The hunger. To bite down on my jugular, to feel the warmth fill your mouth and run over even as you drink deep. Good, good! This is the beast I have longed to face!

THE MOMENT WHEN I THE PLAYER WENT YEAH HE’S TOTALLY CROSSING DEM WIRES:

Oh… My. Have I said too much? Forgive me, this… sensation is wholly unfamiliar to me.

THE MOMENT WHEN ZENOS LOWKEY MADE A PROPOSAL:

You and I are one and the same. Together, we could while away the quiet hours, as friend and confidant… if you will accept me.

And poor Warrior of Light meanwhile is just I DIDN’T MEAN TO TURN YOU ON OH GOD PLEASE STOP. IT’S NOT ME IT’S YOU.

You can say yes to him but he gives you a weird look for that apparently.