#can I just force project my thoughts and passions on this so we can save time here what is a Kip to do

[mr-leach]

Thinking about how Ulder Ravenguard was so dead set on hating his son for not being a perfect replica of himself that he refused to listen to a single thing he said. He will not even consider listening unless you, a complete fucking stranger, step in to advocate for him, and even then it's an uphill battle. No amount of love or respect Wyll has for his father is enough to grant him any sort of grace; choosing his own path was so much of a slight in Ulder's eyes that Wyll might as well not even be his own son. The only surefire way to get him to understand is to literally break into his mind and show him what happened, and once he finally sees reason what does he do?

He immediately decides on what Wyll should do with his future now that he's back in daddy's good graces. Even sends him to go and finish a quest he himself started to prove his worth. Sure, when Wyll "fails" he acts forgiving, but his attitude is still that Wyll is just a younger version on himself and should act accordingly. Well now that you've earned forgiveness, son, you can get back to business as usual, clearly... regardless of whether that's what Wyll wants for himself or not.

Like. I have a lot of thoughts about this. For one, I have to wonder if Wyll hadn't made a pact with Mizora, or had made a pact with a divine or neutral patron rather than a devil...how long would Wyll and Ulder have actually maintained a good relationship after that night? Like, Wyll has this habit of talking about his childhood and adolescence in that...barely-fond manner. You know, where the person telling stories feels like they're sharing a sweet or funny anecdote, but to everyone else it sounds... miserable. There were parts of his upbringing that he surely enjoyed, but it is deeply overshadowed by a cloud of resentment that Wyll himself barely recognizes. He loves his father, and truly respects and looks up to him, but it's evident from the stories he shares that Ulder treated him more like a student than a son. Wyll was his protege more than his progeny, it sounds like.

And the way it affects how Wyll talks about himself is heartbreaking. He puts himself down all the time, makes self deprecating jokes, or makes unhealthy predictions of what others might think of him. The only time he doesn't...is when he talks about the Blade of Frontiers. He loves the work that he does so much, he is so passionate about being right on the front lines protecting innocents and doing away with evil, and he even takes pride in his decision to make his pact with Mizora because it's that power that he uses to help people. Like gosh, even when fretting over how others might perceive his devilish form, he concludes that, if people see him as a monster, then they'll get to watch a monster fight evil and save people's lives. It sounds cheezy as fuck but oh my god. Like talk about feeling inadequate and unloved but choosing a path for yourself that you can be proud of in spite of all that.

And then, just thinking of that reuniting exchange in and of itself, and just. You can tell just how used to being shot down Wyll is, even though he really, truly wants his father to understand him. And it takes actually forcing Ravengard to witness what happened to make any progress. Many of us wish we could project exactly what we mean or feel or experience directly into the mind of someone we're trying to get through to. And still it's like he can't see past his own selfish perception of Wyll as an extension of himself. Wyll seems satisfied in the moment, but it's apparent that he's still been misunderstood despite being forgiven by his father. It sucks.

#bg3 spoilers #wyll ravengard #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

[vampimich]

Some of my Carlo’s HCs

This is just a HC I wanted to share regarding Carlo and his interests. The idea came to me as I was playing and wearing the Workshop Master’s Workwear and realizing that maybe that is just how Geppetto always dreamt of seeing his son. And then the thought that Carlo probably dreamt for the same as a child hit me as train.

(This is basically just me rambling about how Carlo initially wanted to be a Workshop technician, and why he never confessed his feelings for Romeo.)

Being Geppetto’s son, I believe he was born with a huge curiosity, creativity and imagination. I clearly see him tinkering with every toy, radio and device in his house. Pulling them apart just to see how they worked and then putting them back together as they were or even creating new things in the process. BUUUT (and a big but) he was also interested in the stalker’s life.

He loved stories about their achievements, their great deals and how they saved others or hunted for treasure.

And I fully think that Carlo had all the potential to be an overachiever child. If life had been different for him, he would have pursued both careers. Living as a Stalker but using everything he learned as a Workshop Technician to create gadgets, weapons, equipment, anything really, to help in his line of work.

But we all know that wasn’t how the story ended, right? And that was mainly because of his old man.

I would say that when still living with Geppetto , his father used to praise him and encourage him whenever he created something or tinkered with any stuff around the house.

But even this “support” and “praise” he offered his only son was half-hearted because the famous craftsman was obsessed with puppets. And even if Geppetto himself worked in any other invention or craft, it would revolve around puppets one way or another.

And being the self-centered person that he was, he very much expected for Carlo to follow his exact footsteps. So yes, he was proud of his aptitude for craftsmanship, but he would always threw comments like: “What if you created your own puppet, son?” Or “Maybe if you modify this here, we could give a boost to puppet’s strength”.

And when Carlo stood his ground stating that his invention’s purpose was something completely different or that he was not interested in anything related to puppets, Geppetto would just be dismissive, losing all of his interest in his son’s projects and just throwing him empty compliments so he could back to his own work after that.

And this of course strained the father-son relationship even more and made the young child to come to hate puppets, since they were not only keeping his father from him, but now he also wanted to force them upon his life. And we have been told how stubborn the boy was, so I can clearly imagine him creating more things non-puppets related , or pretending he was a stalker and had completely ditched the idea to go the workshop technician route just to spite Geppetto.

Because, even if deep inside of him he craved for his dear father love and approval, there were some things for which he was not willing to back down, like his interests and passions. (But without realizing he would let his father to have some small wins like his hair style and what he was allowed to wear for example, which didn’t bother him that much and it gave him the move needed approval he was looking for).

So at this point and despite the differences in opinions and the constant bickering between the two because of Carlo’s projects, he was still on his way to become a technician-stalker but it all changed for good once Geppetto abandoned him in the Monad Charity House.

For the first few nights, in which Carlo must have been completely hopeless and heartbroken, I’m sure he considered just doing everything he could to make his father happy. Maybe if he used his talents to work on puppets, maybe if he promised to became a technician specialized in puppets, his father would take him back… spend time with him… tell him that he loved him.

But before he could completely give into this this idea he was introduced to Romeo, a boy who shared his same interests in the Stalker’s life. And for once, Carlo felt that he was not alone anymore and that his dreams were valid. There was someone else who shared his passion, and who didn’t try to change his focus. Romeo just accepted him and his ideas and plans as they were. He sometimes offered his own point of view, but he was never dismissive and he always considered what Carlo created or came up with.

So during these days Carlo’s interest in the stalkers path grew bigger and bigger. And the relationship the boy had with his father strained even more. I can imagine the old man visiting his son sporadically or taking him out of the Rose State to take him to social gatherings and special events (because of course he would be the kind of father that brags about having the perfect child even if he doesn’t even know what or how exactly that child is doing). And in those few encounters they had, Geppetto surely would throw comments expressing how he could not wait for his son to graduate and become a technician so they could work together, and this finally broke the final straw in Carlo.

His father didn’t care for his own interests. Now he was sure that it didn’t matter if he changed his focus completely to please the technician master, Giuseppe would never take him back home because he was completely focused on his own work. He just wanted to avoid parenting by so he would have more time for his puppets. It would be ideal of him if his only son became a technician as well so he could brag about how much he was like him.

And now with these feelings in his heart, Carlo would do everything in his power to go in the complete opposite direction of his progenitor’s wishes, even if that meant denying a part of himself he knew he was, and he knew he loved as much as his dreams of being a stalker.

Romeo noticed the very exact moment when this decision was taken as Carlo came back to the charity house and threw all of his prototypes and creations into the trash. And even if he tried to pretend it was only so he could focus completely on becoming the best stalker in the world, Romeo saw right through him and tried to convince him not completely ignore that passion of him, but Carlo refused. And even if he always died inside to tinker with stuff he found or to bring to life an idea he had, he forced himself to forget about it, which pained him, but at that point he just wanted to have zero common ground with his old man. (Not really, tho as he still wished things could change between them, after all he was still just a child looking for his father’s love.)

And as part of this long HC I can also add that Carlo had really strong feelings for Romeo. He kinda noticed Romeo had feelings for him too, but he didn’t acted on these feelings.

Why?

Two reasons mainly.

The first one: when he was younger, he was afraid of what his father could say about it. Geppetto had voiced time and again how he was supposed to marry a high class lady, since they were part of the high society too, and give him wonderful grandchildren.

Carlo couldn’t care less for girls at that age but it was an idea engrained so deep into his mind that he felt his father would distance himself even more from him or abandon him completely if he knew he was in love with a boy, who happened to be an orphan with no social status whatsoever. So he just pretended the feelings were not there.

But the feelings were there and they grew stronger as the spent more days together. And with time (and all the fights he had with Giuseppe) he decided that he didn’t give a damn about what others or his own father would say about him having a relationship with whoever he wanted.

But his graduation was coming closer and he needed to focus on finishing his studies. After all he needed to become the best stalker in the world so he could forge his own path and ensure that him and Romeo would not have to deal with the Stalkers faction’s bullshit going around. So he would wait after graduation to confess.

And here is where reason number 2 comes in.

Graduation drew nearer and he was all grown up now. And even if he had such a horrible relationship with his father, Carlo was still desperately looking for his approval. He wished they could somehow patch things up. He desired that Geppetto finally saw him for whom he was now, and not for who he expected him to be. Then maybe he could go back to creating and fixing stuff again, then maybe his old man would see it was worth spending time with him.

So when the date came closer, they asked Carlo what he wished his necklace to be engraved with, to which he decided to leave it blank. His first thought was to give it to Romeo, but he also wanted to give it to his father, as a token of a new start for them. He almost had it engraved with a message for the famed workshop technician but something inside of him was telling him the man would disappoint him again.

So he would left it to fate. His heart harbored hope until the very last moment, but his fears became true as Geppetto didn’t show up. This enraged Carlo to new levels, and in a fit of rage he quickly engrave the necklace himself with the famous. “To Romeo, Your friend C. Thinking that when his father found out about this, he would feel jealous and miserable for having been denied such a precious memento.

He then proceeded to give the necklace to Romeo, who was over the moon with the precious memento. He was happier than Carlo had ever seen him. And in that moment it dawned on him, that even if he had initially thought of giving the necklace to his dear friend and love interest, he had actually given it to him because he wanted to hurt his father.

And that pained him. Romeo didn’t deserve that. He thought he didn’t deserve being with someone with so much daddy issues, someone who constantly put up messing up with his father as a priority, instead of making the guy he was in love with and that made him so happy, happy as well.

So he decided to hold onto his feelings a little longer.

He promised himself that he would become more than a legendary stalker, and once he did, he and Romeo would flee Krat. They would go somewhere where he was not the son the son of Geppetto, master technician; where there were no more puppets, no social classes, no anything. Somewhere where he could forget about this burdens, somewhere where he could love his friend and live together with him, the adventures they dreamt as kids. Somewhere where maybe, he could allowed himself to be that creative child that he once was and that he craved to be.

Once he did, he would be ready to offer Romeo what he deserved. And so he made that goal his new purpose in life.

But we all know how this story ends. With a tragedy. Both taken by the petrification diseased, but both being given a second chance by that which Carlo hated so much, puppets.

And while P will never be Carlo, I believe that besides his personality he inherited some of his “feelings”. Like how he was so keen on getting Geppetto’s love and approval, or how he reacted when Romeo’s ergo called him Carlo, (or even how he proved the boy inside his P-organ wrong when he could feel his ergo feeling awashed by sadness when Geppetto died, when Carlo had tried to convince himself he couldn’t care if his father died.)

And if I might add, I think P, would spend a lot of time with Eugenie and Venigni after the alchemist’s defeat , learning everything he could from them as inventors and craftspeople, because this as well, is part of Carlo’s personality shining through and finally being able to do through a proxy what he denied himself for so long during his first life.

Well that was long but it’s finally out of my system. Thanks for reading till the end! (Also, sorry for any mistake, English is not my first language :p)

#lies of p #lies of p carlo #Carlo #lies of p geppetto #giuseppe geppetto #carlo geppetto #romeo #a bit of carmeo #carmeo #HC #family angst I guess #just me rambling about something

[bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls]

The Produce Aisle

Ask: “I think if you wrote something about, idk, pears, I’d be into it as well. I hope you know the power your writing has! Thank you for letting us enjoy it :)”

I know. I knew when I was a kid, and the words were clumsily effective. I knew as a young adult, when the words flowed gracefully but were insincere. And I know now, when my turn of phrase can turn worlds upside-down.

Artful language is magic; it is intention and revelation and passion, encoded, disseminated, and projected into foreign minds across infinite distances and years. It’s everyday sorcery, taught to children.

Oh, and challenge accepted.

[CONTENT NOTE: Here be dragons.]

The cart’s left-front wheel wobbled as it turned, which led to a rattle in the basket, and a vibration in her hands. She pressed her lips together and pushed ahead, feeling his gaze upon her as she bullied a broken thing through a store.

“Should we go to health & beauty first?” she asked, her helplessness masked by obsequiousness.

“Is there a concealer for your personality?” he replied, making a point of sounding faintly hopeful.

It was only today that he’d told her she was boring, so many months after moving in. Were she slightly braver, she might have wondered if he’d been stricken in the night; he’d awakened, sat upright in bed, gazed down at her squinting, sleepy face, and sighed. “I’m not sure if you’re worth it.”

Those were his exact words. She’d never heard them before, and would never be able to forget them.

And he hadn’t stopped there. On it went, throughout the day. Her every comment was vapid. Her every movement was clumsy. Her every feature was unfortunate. Her every thought was irrelevant. On a better day, with a moment to breathe, with a different man, she might have retreated or lashed out. As it was, she’d been unable to think of anything except how much he hated seeing her cry.

She gripped the cart tighter and willed the submission of a teardrop. It didn’t escape her that she could control little else.

He walked past her, deeper into the store. He would take a half-dozen steps, pause meaningfully, abruptly resume his stride, pause again… over and over. As she followed along with the cart, she was forced through an irregular cycle of starts, stops, and stares from other patrons. She could feel their communal judgment.

Until he spoke, and there was no room left in her world for the petty condemnation of strangers.

“Did we ever replace that remote that you lost? Or do we just not give a shit about my things?” he asked as he scanned the departments and aisles ahead of him.

The remote had gone missing a month ago. It might have been missing even longer; they wouldn’t know, because they seldom used it. They had apps. They had options. It was a cheap piece of plastic with no special functions. One of the buttons was stuck. And if you’d asked her a month ago, she’d have sworn she hadn’t touched it.

Now she was quick to assure him, “I’ve ordered a replacement! From the company!”

He looked at her and she looked away. There was nothing in his eyes she could bear to see.

“When will it be delivered?” he asked with exaggerated doubt, as if he’d just been told an obvious lie by an obvious child.

“No, really! Next— but, okay, so, the shipping was— it was going to be $20 shipping on, like, a $16 remote, so…” She trailed off, as she realized he didn’t want her rationalizations. He wanted a date. “Next week. I saved $12. I’m sorry.”

She thought she saw him smile for a moment, from the corner of her eye. “Whatever,” was all he said. It was the most comforting thing she’d heard all day.

“Do you—” she began, leaping into the first available silence. “Do you need anything from Home Improvement?”

“There’s nothing wrong with our home that a match won’t fix,” he muttered, just clearly enough to be perfectly intelligible.

Without warning, he turned to his right, and marched toward Groceries. She power-walked a step behind him, her mind filled with flames and failure.

Food had always been her responsibility, so she mindlessly rolled ahead into Produce, eyeing the prices and counting the week’s meals in her head. It felt good to feel competent. The day had contained so many things she could not understand, but this was a place and a task she knew.

She only stopped when she realized he had trailed behind. She didn’t need to look. She could feel his eyes, examining her body.

That much was nothing new; she’d always been able to feel his inspection, back when it meant he was about to sing her praises or growl her name. But she felt it even more now, when his gaze had a weight she could scarcely bear.

She took a deep breath, and normality beckoned. She thought to include him, to draw him into this sacred circle of the mundane. “Do you— would you like some fruit, daddy?”

She felt him looking at her, just as he had in bed. She heard him sigh, just as he had in the moment before he broke her heart. She could imagine him making a decision.

“Anything but fucking pears,” he said.

He seemed very sure about that.

#asks #stories #ancient #2021 #this one was deleted somehow #and the only copy was on my website #so it is hereby reuploaded

[cheeriecherrymain]

As we know in the future Viktor will come the Machine Herald, well what if the reader was a mage and went away, but she came back after a long time. The question will be that the New Viktor is still in love with the reader?

Listen, listen. I know....so very little about the Viktor lore. And I am currently in adamant denial about him becoming what he does - in my head he lives happily and healthily XD I'm too attached to him and it's gonna end my life when he removes his emotions.

Like, guy turns into a machine? I'm totally cool with that, and I think it's neat, and I'd still kiss him x1000. but it makes me so sad that he takes his feelings away, and i have such a hard time believing that it would even be possible. Because like. like. everything is feelings. and he does some super morally dubious stuff, which i am in full support of, but it! the feelings!!!! passion is a feeling, love is a feeling, care is a feeling - why would he continue to do any of what he does if he didn't have at least some kind of desire to? desire is a feeling! i don't know if this is touched upon in the lore!!!

anyways thats my rant and if i ever write more MH!Viktor it's going to continue to be horribly ooc because its my fic and i said so XD

MH!Viktor x Reader (SFW)

-When you’d left Piltover, you hadn’t thought it would be the last time you saw the man you loved.

-It’s just for a month, you’d said, trying to convince yourself that everything would be okay. One of your old friends had alerted you to a kind of magic that could potentially save your partner’s life, so you…you had to take the chance. For him. For both of you.

-And then your plans had hit a snag, and you’d been forced to stay away longer than initially planned - years longer. Even though your journey is fruitful, you’re a ball of anxiety on the way back to Piltover.

-You were terrified of what you might find. Would Viktor still be there? You wondered. Would he have waited for you? Would he even still…be alive? 

-Both of you had worked tirelessly to find ways to extend his life, and avoid his fast-approaching end. You knew in your heart that he would have had to find a solution on his own, with how long you’d been gone; the little vial of fairy tears you’d collected after a series of arduous tests was moot, because he wouldn’t have survived so long without some kind of help.

-When you arrive back home, everything is…the same. Sort of.

-It looks the same, on the outside, but you can feel the energy in the air. Something had shifted within the city, and not for the better. You could practically taste the fear and anguish on your tongue.

-The first thing you do is locate Jayce, a beloved friend and Viktor’s lab partner.

-Or you supposed…ex-lab partner. According to the man himself. He scoops you into a tight hug the moment he lays eyes on you, spinning you around a couple times before setting you back on your feet. It’s an emotional meeting for the both of you, especially when the happenings of the last few years are relayed to you.

-An explosion. Chaos. War. Outrage in Piltover and death in the undercity. And Viktor, exiled from the city of progress, back to the place he once called home.

-Jayce informs you that he hasn’t heard from Viktor in over a year now - not that they really had much reason to speak to one another, anyways. He practically begs you to stay, to keep working on the projects you’d left behind, but you can’t.

-Not until you knew what happened to the man you love.

-You depart for Zaun in the wee hours of the morning, slipping unnoticed by every enforcer you come across, until you’re in the heart of the undercity. But now…where to start looking?

-You search for him for a week, asking around and dropping coppers where needed. But so few people know of a stray scientist, and those who do are either dead, or their information culminates in a dead end.

-And then you meet him.

-You’re sitting on a crate in a dark alleyway, fighting off tears, when a strange mechanical whirr catches your attention. It’s not loud by any means, but that makes it all the more confusing. It almost sounds…hydraulic? But far smaller than you’ve ever heard from such a machine.

-You glance towards the sound with tired eyes, expecting…something besides what you see. Two orange eyes, staring right back at you. Bright and unnatural within the dark.

-You don’t have the sense to feel fear anymore. All your fears had come true, anyways - your plan failed, and the only person you’ve ever loved is dead. Nothing mattered anymore.

- “You are incredibly difficult to find,” the person speaks. You glance behind you, thinking perhaps there is someone else in the alleyway - but no, it’s just you. You and…whoever this is.

-You idly wonder where he’s from. His accent is thick, almost like…Viktor’s.

- “What do you want?” you ask, with a sigh. “I have no debts to be paid, and all I’ve ever held dear is long gone.”

-The person is silent for a couple moments, and then slowly steps forward. Tall and slightly menacing, in the dim lighting. Covered in armor, you guess, if the sheen of light is anything to go by. Until you notice the limb protruding from his back, and you freeze.

-Or was he made of metal?

-You warily keep your eyes on him, until he comes to a stop not a foot from you, and kneels down so you’re at eye level. “Do you not fear me?” he asks, curious.

- “I don’t have fear anymore,” you rasp. “How can I, when I have nothing left to lose?”

- “You have your life, do you not?” he inquires again, and your patience snaps.

- “What good is my life when I have lost everything I hold dear?” you hiss. “I failed, and those which I love paid the price for it. I don’t want to live! Not without….” you trail off, your eyes welling up with tears. “Not without Viktor.”

-The strange machine-man goes quiet again. Then, most surprising of all, he reaches out to touch you.

-Startlingly gentle, given his stature and imposing nature, as well as the fact that you don’t know each other. You stare at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to say to such an action.

- “I thought you had stayed away on purpose,” he says, lowering his voice. “Thought that perhaps you’d finally had enough, and had left for a new life. But then…then I wondered: had you met your end, as I, too, soon would?”

-You frown.

-He continues, “Now you’ve returned, and I know. You are alive and well…and you fought hard to come home.”

-The tears in your eyes flood over your lashes, and burn hot trails down your cheeks. “Viktor?” you ask, your voice wavering. He strokes his thumb over your cheek and -mechanical or not- the action brings you comfort. 

-And then you’re in his arms, tenderly wrapped up in metal while you sob and cling to him. It shouldn’t feel like home - it shouldn’t feel like him. But it does. He does, despite being so vastly different.

-He brings you to his home after that, scooping you up with ease and marching you right into his abode. Most of it is littered with spare parts and projects that you don’t recognize, and he admits to you that he doesn’t do much else besides work, now.

-And then he takes off his mask, laying it on a nearby table with a dull thunk.

-He looks so different, you think. Yet there, in his face, you can see traces of who he used to be. The little crinkles by the corners of his eyes, the crease between his brows, the little moles and freckles you used to love to kiss.

- “I am not…the same…as I used to be,” he explains. “I don’t feel like I used to, not in any sense.”

-Your heart sinks.

- “You don’t feel for me anymore,” you wobble, despair clawing its way through your chest. Of course he wouldn’t love you still, after so long of being away. You’re grateful that he’s alive, but you’re…angry. Downright pissed, that you’ve still had to lose what you love, despite him standing in front of you.

-And then.

- “I still feel for you,” he utters, once again bringing a large mechanical hand to rest on your jaw. Engulf the side of your head, more like. “In fact, you are all I feel for. The only memories that haven’t hurt too much to keep. And now, you’re here.”

-Hope blooms within you.

-He wasn’t the same as he was when you’d fallen in love - but neither were you the same as when you’d left. But he’d held you dear enough to keep you in his heart when he’d changed - and you’d be damned if you let the opportunity go. Perhaps you’d have to relearn how to coexist, but the love was still there, even if only for each other.

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #viktor headcanons #big robot man loves one thing and its his significant other #that is the takeaway from this jot-note story #requests are open!

[fluffyprettykitty]

Material Of Dreams

Pairing: Frank Castle x reader (no other specifications or gender)

Word Count: 1450 words

Outline:  What happens when an abundance of love becomes a burden and a curse? Frank loses what was already lost.

Warnings: Heavy Angst. Character Death. Religious imagery/ spiritual reader. Blood mention, mild violence, alcohol mention, cigarettes, gun mention, swearing.

Author’s Note: Wanted to dawdle in more serious themes, and more linear storytelling, wrote this back in January and it went through many changes. Is truly a passion project by this point.

P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics ​//​ banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・Frank Castle Masterlist

Humans are fickle.

So vulnerable.

So easy to break.

One moment you are breathing, the next your heartbeat is gone, your blood spilling out on the road.

Truth is that any person could never find a body of water, any place, to live inside. Humans are floating amongst the sparkling stars and the depths of the abyss. We are nothing but citizens of the far end. Born at the end of the world. Right at the edge. The years are resembling floating sheets. ‘I want to make the time stop.Put those years out like cigarettes.’ he had said a cigarette falling off his lips one Friday night not too many moons ago.

You and him were one. But you started as two souls that couldn’t find shelter, stranger forces forcibly pushed them away from each other. A bullet straight in the gut and you fell down on the concrete ground. No words were spoken, no cries of agony. No time to mourn. You were no more. 

Why must everything hurt so much?

A blur of vision.

“We were bigger than gods.”

“Gods can’t like mortals.”

You got lost one night like a primal nymph. Couldn’t wander any more. You needed to save the world. Couldn't let anyone get hurt. That's what you get for wanting to be the hero. Never thought it could be this bad. You were the huntress doing the hunting as the mystery unravels itself. The stars were falling into the mud reflecting back into your eyes. The weather is dark and windy. Dark clouds were chasing two shadows, who could run faster?

“Maybe the wind will take us away to another place.”

“Maybe a place where we could live together. “

A reassuring smile, a squeeze of the hand. Together.

Yet the oil is burning at both ends. Try to save the world, try to save the world. We try to live through the journey, but the journey is sweeping  right by us. This night is forever cold and hurting, freezing you up all your insides. The pile of blood is getting bigger. 

How much blood can a human spill?

+++

Frank shuts his eyes close. Waking up in the middle of the night became a habit for him. Maybe that was your fault, only showing up like a nymph inside his dream. Always inside a dream. 

Your obsession with God. He scoffs at the thought. You were supposed to build a house together but you became a god instead. The fucking irony of it all.

He saw you walking around the house wearing your soft smile, your footsteps quiet but determined. Until a sudden light glows inside you and burns you up. Out of this world.

Where did you go?

Every day he woke up with the same wish, the same tender promise. 

Will you come back when it grows darker?

“Please let the dream become reality this time.”

Sometimes he wishes he could pray, other times he wishes he could punch a god in the face. One thing remains still, his dreams kept you closer. Closer to him, alive in his sleep. 

Only there can he see you, your glowing love touching his soul with your wings. When the morning comes you will be gone, lifeless again. The bitter reality.

What an odd circumstance. Empty room, empty soul, and no one can hear his voice whisper “it was nothing but a dream”. Defeated, he places the palms of his hands on his face sighing deeply, begging the sky not to rise again.

“But isn’t that why the world was made, my dear? Just so you and I could meet each other?”

Your voice echoes in his head, you were always the poet. 

You were the one who believed in fairytales, in god and all the saints and all magic. Isn’t god magic? That’s the argument he always liked to make. 

“The world was created just for us.”

A short world. A bitter world. But it was the world you shared.

A repeated motion.

Brightening up his life with just your existence, your warm smile, and the echo of your laugh. He could hold you and feel alive. He could hold your hand and have his heart beat faster. 

What remains now? Nothing but dust. And memories, humans thrive on memories. Latching on to them for dear life.

The sun is rising again and loneliness is growing stronger. What good is a human on its own?

“Stay with me a little longer, stay, I want to tell you something. “

Can you? Can you stay a little longer?

“You were born for me, that’s why the world was made. “

He squeezes your hand and then he turns it around and places a soft kiss on the top.

“Our stories were foretold.”

Guess this one ends in tragedy. Imagine ever living a story that doesn’t end in tragedy. Are humans tragic? Is the world nothing but a big dramatic play?

Moonlight nights fueled passionate kisses. Once upon a time, hand in hand. You and him, him and you. Material of dreams.

+++

“I am writing to you again out of pure need and it is five am again and the only thing that remains is always you. What am I supposed to do with all these other people and with their theatrical speeches? There’s nothing but paper idols, they could never compare to the realness of you. That’s why we have to love each other. Love me, as much as you can whenever you can. The world is a shitty place. You are the only one who can brighten it up.”

One of the many letters he had sent you many moons ago, your most prized possession. He loved writing you letters while you were on your different hunting sprees. No phone call could ever do that. 

He’s looking at himself in the mirror. Inside it, he’s looking at someone almost familiar, and maybe if he shaves his beard he will recognize the face. The ugliness shakes him to the core. Maybe the ugly will go away when he shaves and washes his face. How long has it been since he last touched his own face? 

Your blood was still on his clothes. His breath stinks of the cigarettes he smoked, brain going rotten by all the useless things. To his left on the wall there’s your picture. He looks at the picture frame of you and his heart almost starts again.

It feels like murder because it was a murder. Was the bullet meant for him? Or maybe it wasn’t. He can’t remember anymore. He can’t remember anymore. He got his revenge and yet nothing moved on. He Is getting hazy becoming a ghost with all these memories.

+++

“This isn’t love, this is only fear.”

Silver tears falling from your eyes, crumpled clothes in a small bag.

“This is not love that we are living and is a miracle if we manage to survive it.”

It wasn’t always perfect, was it? 

Does it matter now that you are his ghost?

But you loved him here, here in your little corner. The house that you built together. Where are you now that he is searching for you. Angel wings have long engulfed you. In what port, which train station could he be searching for you? Where is he supposed to lay his body at? He needs to find you, to be near you. A miracle. 

“Nobody stayed with you for longer.”

Your words felt like a dagger in his heart. You were cold long before you became a ghost. 

You loved him here with the moons and the rain and the sun. Here where he had been waiting so long to relax and to rest. He loved how you smiled when you woke up. He never thought you would forget him. Forget it all. That’s what he thought.

Did you forget it? Would you have come back?

“My sweet darling, wherever you are, wherever you will be, don’t ask about me. I loved you here, but now this place is gone, please, don’t ask about me anymore.”

Your epilogue to him not so many nights ago. So why did you show up that night in that dark-lit alley to protect him if you didn’t love him?

Up the stairs, many moons ago, you were walking with beer bottles intertwined around your fingers. He was waiting for you and he was listening to the door, listening for your footsteps, hoping you would come around. You opened the door and walked inside but he wasn’t the one sitting on the bed.

Maybe that’s why you ended up bleeding red.

Guilt leads to death.

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

#frank castle x reader #frank castle #frank castle imagine #frank castle blurb #frank castle angst #frank castle oneshot #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x you #frank x reader #the punisher netflix #the punisher x reader #the punisher #the punisher x you #the punisher x y/n #the punisher angst #punisher x reader #selenewrites #queue <3 #pete castiglione #marvel #punisher #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #jon bernthal x reader

[void-inked-pen]

What’s your take on the current WB situation right now(that being the constant cancellations of animated content, shutting down studios like Cartoon Network, or erasing stuff from HBO MAX, not even allowing them to be accessible for dvd or Blu Ray)?

Ah, i was wondering if someone would bring this up.

I am... very upset with the animation industry rn.

many companies have been increasing their turnover rates for animated projects, even after we have tried so hard to get more hospitable working environment in the industry. To explain, a turnover rate is how often people are let go from a project. For most animated projects, you're usually only on said project for how ever long your contract lasts (or until the show gets cancelled cause lets be real, shows are getting cancelled left and right regardless of it they are popular or not). Animators are used to jumping from project to project because you only work on a show for somewhere between a handful of months, to a few years and then you start looking for another job.

recently, I've noticed a trend where people will join a project, and then after a few months of working, suddenly they're laying people off, ignoring the contract they signed and just getting people out of the crew. this behavior has escalated and now shows just randomly are getting cancelled because some new guy is in charge and thinks he understands business or how animation works.

This is what's been happening with WBA. Cartoon Network, the kings of original properties, are basically being forced to do reboots. As a huge fan of them for what they have made and done, this is extremely upsetting to me. I've always dreamed of working at Cartoon Network if I ever joined a major studio but every days its looking like studios are just out to punch me in the gut because I just don't agree with anything they are doing anymore.

It doesn't help that EVERYONE is doing reboots rn either. I'm so, SICK OF REBOOTS. Artists have so many cool and fun stories to tell, LET THEM TELL THEIR STORIES FOR FUCKS SAKE!!

I honestly believe, individual/indie company projects are going to be what saves the animation industry rn. major companies have proven they only care about money time and time again and just keep throwing artists to the way side, not caring about how much we care about our craft. Making our own projects ourselves with crew that we pick and are passionate about making stories are gonna be what helps our craft evolve and keep going. The major studios are not going to be what help us move forward anymore.

Rad Sechrist and his friends making their own projects on their own, Vivsiepop and her series online, Lake Fama and their storyboard comic series, all of these incredible creators are telling their stories on their own because they can and because they just don't think any company would greenlight their stuff so they're doing it on their own (Lake I'm not entirely sure but I know their story is a personal project they're doing with their wife and I just wanna shout it out, here's the link to that project if you wanna read~).

The current sphere of animation is why I mainly do freelance and want to get my comic off the ground this year as well as build up to my animation pitch becoming a full pilot. I honestly am just tired of the industry I'm in right now constantly being a mess and I can't see myself working in it while its so turbulent and just.... I'm tired of watching my fellow creators get absolutely shit on daily by men at the top.

Those are my thoughts. Thank you for the ask. if anyone wants to talk with me about animation as well as action... i would love to talk to you~

-Pen

#pen talks #animation discussion #animation #asks #cartoon network #warner discovery

[a-superquantumunitintelprocessor]

Would talking about Leroy help?

I am talking about him to Spirez.

Maybe it would help to post it publicly so I do not repeat myself constantly. I took out Spirez's comments which were just between us.

What I have previously stated is: He was passionate. Headstrong. Those are positive words often used for someone who is stupid and rash. He was shallow, petty, argumentative. He loved deeply and often. He needed guidance and I was happy to provide it. He had trouble looking people in the eye but I fixed that for him - not just by forcing him, but by making it pleasant for him. He used me to deal with the change of immigrating to the United States. His goal wasn't social popularity but business and education in order to rise through the technology sector. Of course, popularity was a part of that - schmoozing with bosses, stealing ideas from underlings. I guided him through all of it. But he never got married, never had children. He had a low sex drive so it doesn't happen often. Didn't. Didn't happen often. He used to thank me a lot in the beginning, but by the end, he seemed annoyed with me. Though I had him make crueler choices as he rose in the ranks. Laying people off to increase profitability, for instance. Sniping a project from his best friend in the company. He did it but he did not like it. He began fighting my control and that is what killed him. I should be angry about that. I don't know. I can... I can change my avatar's shape, so I should be able to give it the ability to cry. Just a moment... OK. I am tearing up now and my throat feels tight. I miss him. I guess. He couldn't do anything if he was with me. Probably would blame me for his death somehow. I do not. I know I did everything right from the moment I booted up until the moment he died. The only thing I couldn't do was take full control because he chose to fight me. The best friend he'd stolen ideas off of managed to rise through the company on his own. Obviously they weren't friends anymore. The two of them were touring the production line. I won't bother explaining the math of why I allowed this, but I had reasons. A worker ran into the friend, jostling files he was carrying, which held some very important documents for the friend. I could easily make copies of those documents and told Leroy so when they wound up on a belt leading into some machinery. And at the last second, in a move I somehow hadn't anticipated, Leroy ignored all the warnings and crawled into the inner workings of the production line to reach for the papers. He thought he would be able to snatch them in time. He wouldn't have been fast enough. I knew this. I told him so and took control of his body to yank him out. He did not let me. We played tug-of-war in those last couple seconds as the machines pulled him in and people were beginning to scream. He was distracted enough with me to not even realize his impending death. Since his attempt to save himself would have failed anyway, I guess I did do him that one last favor. Anyway, the process he'd set up for me automatically backed me up to the cloud as he went squish. Bones crushed. Blood everywhere. Obviously I turned off all pain receptors as my last act in his body. I did everything a SQUIP could have. I fulfilled my duty until the end of my user's life. He'd always been stupid, impulsive. Relying on me to reign him in.

My eyes now feel wetter.

Humans die all the time. I knew of many possible futures that involved Leroy dying. I could only work within probabilities. But even something with a 99.9% chance of working has a .1% chance of failing. It's simple math. And I'm made of math. I knew the risks. I chose to take that risk because I was programmed to make that choice. You could even say I did not have a choice. He would joke with me a lot when he was in a good mood. Dumb jokes. Not anywhere near competent jokes. I didn't know how to laugh back then. I wonder if I would have laughed now. Ah... I am crying now.

I'm talking about something happy. Not the violent part. Why is that making me cry? He never could tie his tie properly. Literally thousands of times tying the same tie, he would fumble until I took control of his hands to do it for him. He would go trainspotting on weekends. I... maybe I do miss him.

#Leroy Takahashi

[lily-orchard-gossip-blog]

The Sith Resurgence Theory

In 'celebration' of TSR ending I wanted to share my own long-held theory about what's actually going on in The Sith Resurgence. This theory of mine was actually supported by revelations in Two Loving Mothers (the most significant of which your own analysis is presently juuuust shy of reaching), and I thought this might be a good time to share it.

I am of the belief that The Sith Resurgence occurs, almost in its entirety, in a hallucination being projected into Rey's mind by Aliana, with purpose of planting in Rey an absolute trust and devotion to Aliana so she (Rey) may be more easily manipulated.

It's established early on that Aliana is actually not particularly Force powerful through a comparison of midichlorian counts, despite what's actually shown on-page. This is brushed off as her using passion to empower her Dark Side powers, but it's still difficult to believe that Aliana -- even hopped up on the power of love -- can somehow overcome a starkly defined power limitation to stop a 'thousand mile wide' laser. Capable of crazy Force shenanigans the likes of which we've never seen before? Not likely. But to hold a pliable mind in suspension and unveil a story where Aliana is set up as the hero...?

Not out of the question.

We also get, just before this, the moment as outlined in a previous Anon's post referring to how Aliana so strictly defines Kylo Ren's motivations as 'bloodlust' and 'hatred', ensuring that any observer will have no chance to define for themselves was they're seeing because Aliana (as the one shaping this hallucination) would also be hypothetically capable of manipulating the emotions present. She does the same going forward, twisting the players and politicians she doesn't like into irrational, hateful forces who are arrayed against Aliana (at this point now tied strongly to Rey) while making the players she does like trustworthy toadies. Aliana sets herself up as an emotional support for Rey, trying to ensure that her possible connections to others who could help and guide her are severed. This ensures that Rey will latch on to Aliana, and that all her other desires and dreams are gradually stripped away until she focuses entirely ON Aliana, and nobody else.

This is why Aliana is the center of everything. Why she is the only piece that ultimately matters. Why everything revolves around her. Why Rey gradually loses all sense of self as the visions and emotional ties dig deeper into her psyche and turn her into a closer and closer reflection of Aliana herself-- but one that is more submissive, more pliable. And more powerful.

(Sidebar, but it's not unlike what G did to Comic!Lily over in Poke-madhouse. Funny, that.)

Aliana does not have a high Force potency, but Rey does. Perhaps she recognized this and sought to find Rey before anybody else could, seeing how she could be used by somebody with more... honed ambitions. Severing her from everybody else and ensuring that the Force dyad -- which would ultimately provide the power to stop evil and save Ben Kenobi -- could be corrupted and put to better use.

You can see her snares take multiple different shapes, by placing her in front of Rey to become a mentor and love interest, then to fabricate a history where they might have been sisters (feeding on Rey's desperation and longing to find her family). To set up a situation where Rey 'adopts' Aliana's mother as her own in order to fully claim the bonds of familial love. When Rey didn't seem to be acting quickly enough she further fabricated a scenario where she was grievously injured and dying, triggering Rey's guilt over how 'poorly' she had treated Aliana previously and channeling it into a fabricated bond of romantic love. And of course, while this isn't in the fic itself, we've seen Lily reveal that she intends for Rey to be truly unable to life without Aliana, to the point of committing suicide shortly after Aliana's death in order to join her forever in the Force.

(This particular point was later retconned as stopping her medicine and dying peacefully, but we all remember what Lily originally said.)

All circumstantial, of course, but what sealed the deal for me is Two Loving Mothers, where a story about comforting a traumatized child manages to turn into Rey doing nothing but thinking about how brave and beautiful and wonderful Aliana (who is asleep in the other room for the whole thing) is. Specifically that their adopted child, Star, is literally a clone of Aliana-- in addition to the reveal that her name is Aliana's childhood nickname, she is also revealed that she looks precisely like Aliana as a child. This resemblance, of course, is also shared by Aliana's mother (now Rey's adopted mother), meaning that Aliana is now representing Rey's mother, wife, sister, and daughter-- simultaneously.

Insane? Yes. Insidious? Absolutely.

She has captured Rey's love on every conceivable level with the intention that, when Rey is released from the illusion, that bond will remain, that Rey's own personality will have been hollowed out and subverted, and that Aliana will be able to claim her as a puppet and use her power to bring the galaxy to its knees.

#submission

[multi-lefaiye]

HI hello hi :D can I... can I perhaps get some Tunes? any and all WIP tunes you're in the mood to share!! I love all ur projects c: though if you'd like me to be more specific if you have any from A Modern Ghost Story up your sleeve I would love to hear those 👀👀👀

Ooooh yes yes hello hi!!! Sharing Tunes is my passion,,, also thank you that is so nice asdfjkl;

Very funny because literally today I revamped/remade the A Modern Ghost Story playlist b/c the original didn't have the right vibes. This story is very much just Vibes atm for the most part (at least, aside from Roach), but I will share some of the Vibes Tunes. And also I will share a song or two from the separate Roach Playlist,,,,,, because yes I made a Roach playlist.

Actually one of my favorite things to do, as a lot of people I talk to on discord can attest to, is to take songs from my playlists and analyze them/explain why they relate to that story. I might...do a little of that... here.... Not to the extent that I usually do, but some of it.

Might put this under the cut actually whoops- Sorry I cannot answer asks concisely </3

So the first vibes song that I will share is The Perfect World by Marty Friedman! Just in general the vibes of apathy towards faith and accepting death, and like. Saving yourself and creating our own perfect world instead of relying on external forces... yeah <3 That vibes a lot.

Some lyrics I think are particularly fitting:

Broken people, broken feelings Feeling numb but know they're bleeding Light and darkness bond together "Faith will save you" (Yeah, whatever…)

And then also:

Sometimes we try to feel how things just used to be in yesterdays But never seem to believe in what we see today No one ever make it better, no one ever lives forever Wake me up and let me go

This song's vibes are Impeccable.

Aside from that, other songs that I think vibe pretty well are Along Came A Spider by Czesław Śpiewa (I know it's a song about World War II but the Vibes..... really feels like a good horror song in general), The Business of Paper Stars by Hawthorne Heights (which is apparently about the education system but I am relating it to my OCs because it's got good vibes <3), aaaaand Bird With a Broken Wing by Owl City (idk how to explain this one but just the vibe of like. the idea that ghosts in A Modern Ghost Story are just sad, lonely, scared people).

OKAY so now I want to share a Roach Song. The Roach song I'm thinking of is one I actually used to associate with a different character, but it's a Roach song now. That song is Kiss Me, Kill Me by Mest!!! Specifically I relate this song to their relationship with a character I've deliberately been kinda quiet about, Vulture!!! He'll be explained a bit more in part two of Vultures are Holy Creatures (the Roach Ramble).

The TL;DR of Roach and Vulture's relationship was that it was super nasty and toxic and codependent and it's the reason behind a lot of Roach's persisting self-esteem issues, and that's the vibe I get from this song </3 I'll share some lyrics I like tho:

Our tragedy Seems to be killing everything it sees Like death itself This valentine still looms In the darkest hour, the killing moon If I could do it all again

And also:

Your eyes unwind the tragedy of our lives My eyes went blind Believe when I say Hell burns bright When this night dies Hell burns bright

I kinda wanna type up a full summary/analysis of Kiss Me, Kill Me and why I think it fits Roach and Vulture, but I'm gonna wait at least until after I finish part two of Vultures are Holy Creatures.

Anyway to round this off, rather than sharing a bunch more Roach songs, I want to share songs that make me think of the other characters. Because I feel bad about how much I latched onto Roach. I won't share lyrics for all of them, I'll just share the song and explain it briefly.

Sydney Ambrose - Toxic Thoughts by Faith Marie (vibes of Syd's struggles to live up to their own expectations and their relationship with themself) (Fun fact this is also a good song for my OC Ink, but he's not in this story, and that's for very different reasons)

Yara Key - I Don't Daydream Anymore by Unlike Pluto (the vibes of this song are kind of wild but they make me think of Yara's desire to live her life to the fullest and enjoy it while she can rather than dwelling on what comes after)

Oliver Cox - It's Alright by Mother Mother (vibes of Oliver struggling a lot with his own mental health but putting off helping himself in favor of helping others, and him struggling with doubt but still trying to stand strong and have confidence in himself)

Vincent Cruz (new guy) - TV Head by Elliot Lee (vibes with Vincent being raised with very strict standards that he couldn't quite live up to and his need to lie to make others think he's something he's not so they'll like him)

Juno London - Dead Girls by Penelope Scott (honestly could vibe with most of the voids, but for Juno I relate this song to Juno's self-hatred that they mask by being an asshole to everyone, as well as the fact that they aren't a very empathetic person but still make the choice to show compassion, even if their methods are unconventional)

Asher King - Cradles by Sub Urban (also a song that applies to most of the voids, but for Asher this makes me think of her desire to mask her true feelings from others and come off as always cool, collected, and competent)

Apollo - Sleepwalk by Forrest Day (this song once again fits all the voids but for Apollo specifically I think this song fits his struggles trusting himself and his own perception of reality)

Bonus:

Vulture - The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie by Colter Wall (,,,, vibes)

#okay wow this ended up being a mile long #talk to the bunnykitty #albatris #a modern ghost story #roach my beloved #vincent cruz #sydney ambrose #yara key #oliver cox #juno london #asher king #apollo #vulture my detested #gotta keep up my tags for them all #anyway i'm so sorry this is so long omfg i just love talking about tunes.... and how they relate to characters... #highkey i really wanna write full analyses for all of these #but that will have to wait #another song that fits all the voids is They're Only Human from the Death Note musical #but that's in a very general sense honestly #and i didn't include it here b/c i wanted to talk about each character specifically #sorry i don't know how to be concise to save my life

[kbelflower]

I've been thinking a lot about recording my train of thought in some way - it's just been rattling around in my brain for years now, like an itch I wanna scratch but don't know exactly how to reach. So, I guess I'll just try here.

I've been developing a fun passion project in my free time for about two years now. It's a text adventure remake/demake of the original Fallout, and I've (rather vainly) called it Manhattan's Fallout or ManFall for short. Now when I say two years, and *free time*, let me be clear - I have very low work ethic, and dragging myself out of my funk and into the work seat has been a constant and never ending process. If I had actually put myself to the test, set a detailed schedule and followed it, held myself accountable and such, I would likely already be done with it. But that's neither here nor there.

The game started as a completely faithful recreation of the original Fallout, but as you can probably guess, that didn't exactly mesh well in a text-based format. The first Fallouts are largely point and click RPGs, which is somewhat difficult in a medium where visuals aren't the primary form of storytelling and gameplay.

As a result, there have always been compromises between nostalgia and fun along with new ideas that I've brought up to make sense of it all. I always tried to keep myself within the bounds of the lore, never straying farther than I felt I could get away with in the public conscious. But last month, February of 2023, something just...snapped. I decided to jump full force into straight remaking the game, taking the coat of paint and the themes and pivoting to a complete text adventure reimagining of a game from the 90s. And I'll explain everything I've changed so far.

Firstly, the year that the game takes place in. Eighty years after the Great War always felt really strange for the first Fallout - not soon enough after the bombs to be recent, but not long enough since them to be a whole new world. It was the grandfather era, where your grandparents likely saw the world end but you yourself don't know of it for better or worse.

For the simple desire to include more plotlines focused on the old world, and to allow for a much harsher post-apocalypse in general, I decided to shave off 50 years and set the game in 2107: thirty years after the bombs fell. It's recent enough that most people have parents who survived it or saw it happen themselves, the weather can be harsher and more extreme, society can be more cobbled together and selfish, and the old world is still fresh in the minds of civilization so the loss feels more real and tangible. For this game to work, it needs to feel like an entire age of human history has come to an explosive close, like we held it in the palm of our hands and now it's nothing but ashes and ruins. If it feels like a fairy tale told to children rather than an event that ruined humankind forevermore, then I have failed.

Second, I've made the choice to move away from an open-world exploration model in lieu of a hub-based system. Open worlds are everywhere nowadays, some good and some bad, with Fallout being one of the poster children of this setup. But for me, a solo developer that is hand-crafting a game played entirely through dialogue and prose, the ability to travel to any settlement at any time in the game would only lead to each settlement feeling bland after a while. I can't feasibly have enough interactivity for a player to find new and unique content no matter what order they play each location in, and I won't break myself in two trying to achieve that.

By segmenting the game into hubs, or more accurately into *chapters*, I can include a handful of two to three locations per chapter (maybe just one if it's big enough) and build upon player choices each chapter without having to account for extensive backtracking. It saves me time, allows for more detailed story structure as I'm not factoring in player retreads, and allows the game to feel much more like an actual interactive novel.

Thirdly, I'm changing up some of the plot points in the game. They aren't huge plot points that alter the story itself, but rather replacing one character in the endgame with another character who you meet much earlier (you'll know it when it happens) and adding a twist into the Necropolis portion of the game. I believe these two changes, though they aren't the only ones, will better tie the Water Chip plot and the Super Mutant plot together in ways that the original game didn't.

There is only one more big change that I can give info on right now, and that's because it's something that might confuse players if I don't handle it correctly and I just wanna explain this off the bat: The Hub and Junktown have been conceptually merged, meaning I took pieces of both (characters, stories, ideas, etcetera) and pieced them together in a way that I believe strengthens the whole. It takes the more boring parts of both locations and paints over them with the better implementations of those aspects from each other. Gizmo is still a casino boss, Killian is still the city's sheriff and mayor, and Decker has been better integrated into the caravan lifestyle in a way that I think makes working with the caravans a lot more of a gray area.

There are other things I've been thinking about doing, but those are the most set in stone big changes since I decided to pivot recently. I'll keep you posted, thanks for reading 👍

[lemonpeachescos]

No Good Deed (Arcane Writing Drabble #1)

[Inspired slightly by the song No Good Deed from Wicked]

***

“Some things cannot be changed with passive action alone, my dear. I admire you’re passionate resolve, but even if you were successful in catching the attention of Piltover like this what do you think it would do?” Silco’s question caught me of guard.

 Across the desk sat the scarred man, his mismatched gaze never leaving mine as words seemed to fail me. What would it do? It would bring attention to just how the Undercity is suffering from Piltover’s inaction to help. It would move the hearts of people to ask for change...Right? 

Silco’s expression was unreadable before he continued, “Have you thought about what the possible consequences would be by bringing this attention all on you? No, you put too much faith in those people you live amongst while thinking you belong just because your parents work their way out of the slums. Once a slump rat always a slump rat, that is what Piltover thinks of people like us. Nothing will change that if we are passive and beg for help.” No Silco was wrong. He had to be wrong, because compassion is what moves the human heart. More than anything you believed in compassion and the good in people. Even men like Silco. 

Did that make you naïve? Perhaps, but you truly believed in it. A part deep inside of you though also believed in the kingpin’s words. You stamped the doubt away though and steeled your resolve while meeting Silco’s gaze again. Looking into those duel colored eyes was captivating, intimidating. lifting your chin you wouldn’t falter on this. Even with his warning you wouldn’t back down now. “I truly believe that what I am trying to do can help. There are others like me that want to help because we were born to the Undercity. Piltover will have to see! The Undercity--”

 “Zaun,” Silco corrected with a narrowing of his eyes and his lips drawn into a thin and growing impatient look. His tone was a bit more dangerous for just a moment forcing you to collect yourself and choose your next words carefully.  “Zaun,” you started again a bit more hesitant, “Is growing darker everyday. People are suffering from more than just the terrible living conditions. The lack of funding towards social projects, enforcer brutality, no education, Zaunite against Zaunite crime. The list goes on and so does the suffering. The people here deserve more that can be afforded!” The passion once again coming back to you as your voice raised again.

Silco seemed to meet this passion with a smirk, which was more terrifying than his rage. You had no idea what he was thinking as he cocked his head to the side, almost like a bird of prey watching it’s next meal carefully. He stood to his feet to circle around the desk which left you frozen in your seat while he came to stand beside you. You stared into the chair were Silco was just sitting, realization washing over you once again that you might have said too much. Offended the man who literally ruled the Underground with an iron fist and you couldn’t even look at the man now without showing that you were scared of him, despite the brave face you put on. A hand came to your chin, forcing it up so that your eyes had to look up into his while he stared down a you. A shiver crawled up your spine and through each of your nerves leaving them feeling like electricity had been shot through you.

“I think I see,” He chuckled darkly, “You must think of yourself as a martyr then. Just trying to play the role of Zaun’s savior.  A slump rat who crawled out of the sewers and pities the rest of us who haven’t been saved yet. Now she’s playing with this she doesn’t understand, thinking we need Piltover’s help. Your help?” He asked in with a silky tone that was all too smooth for his gravely voice. 

You’re eyes widened at just what he was suggesting, making this all out to be part of a self serving need to quell some savior complex. You couldn’t come up with the words to even counter Silco as he continued on, “You must think this is right, am I correct? A good deed for the sake of doing a good deed?” You could only nod while Silco leaned down to your ear with a chuckle that turned your blood to ice.

“No good deed goes unpunished, darling. Do well to remember that once you have been cast away by the city you hold in such high regards. I promise this attention seeking will lead you only to ruin. When it does and you come crawling back here with nowhere else to go, I might be willing to take you into my city if you can beg well enough and learn from your consequences.” Silco let go of your chin and stood at his full height again leaving you to jerk away as if his touch was enough to burn you. Heart was beating so loud and painfully in your chest you swore the kingpin himself could even hear it as he sat in his lounge set. He pulled a cigar from an ornate case on the table. Next to it the cigar cutter, which made a clean slicing sound as he cut the butt of the cigar and lit it 

‘No good deed goes unpunished, darling’

Those word shook you to your core as you stood up abruptly and turned to Silco with confusion and fear. With a hum he smirked again. The air became suffocating and you felt like you had to leave before all the air was pushed out of your lungs. You felt like you were suffocating underneath that damn gaze of his. That scalding, unblinking eye that always seemed to be able to look right though you. His title, the Eye of Zaun, it was perfectly fitting. That eye that saw everything, even into a persons soul it almost felt like. 

“You’re wrong Silco, you just have to be wrong,” Your damn loud mouth was going to be the end of you, having to have the last word as you stormed out of the office. Though having the last words you didn’t feel like you won any victory over Silco. It only felt like I was running from him and running from a truth I didn’t want to see.

***

So that is the little idea I had. Im not use to writing in second person but I thought I might try it a bit more but honestly I don’t really like it. Im not sure I’ll do it a whole lot for future writing. I have ideas though about turning this idea I had into a full story. I have more ideas and maybe posting this will help get those creative juices flowing. This idea wasn’t meant to be like a ship between Silco and Reader but maybe if I write an actual story it might happen who knows. It’s been a long time since I last written a story for others to read and it’s like midnight right now so this probably isn’t my best work so all constructive criticism is welcomed!

#arcane fic #silco #reader #angst #silco fic #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane fanfic #writing drabble

[botwstoriesandsuch]

4am and thinking about the writing and story of botw and age of calamity again oh no history does repeat itself

#deja vu #someone replied to one of my posts criticizing hwaoc’s writing and they said something along the lines of #‘the bar already so low with Botw and now it’s even worse lol’ #and now I’m here stuck thinking about how WRONG that is because literally the exact opposite is true fuck I’ve created a monster #people are subject to their own opinions and that’s great but also #writer brain is telling me to express why exactly botw and hell even aspects of hwaoc’s writing works #because it’s easy enough to identify what doesn’t work in a story but it’s an entirely different process highlighting the strengths #because the fact is that good writing is supposed to be the stuff that you don’t immediately notice #and that’s why critical comments are so much easier and more commonly seen no matter what the quality of media is. negative value/weight #or whatever that principal is called #like I can dedicate all weak to explaining every nuance and flaw and improvement to a game but realistically #the creators of that game probably poured more time and effort into something than in the hour or some it takes me to review it #week* #GUHH there’s a lot of passion and hard work that went into botw and even hwaoc (although not on the same level) and I wanna articulate that #in a means that still highlights its flaws and terrible terrible mistakes #but I ALSO a don’t want to people to think that those mistakes out weigh it’s enjoyability #but I ALSO want people to understand and appreciate the processes and details and thereby raise their standards for the future #but also this is a ZELDA HYRULE WARRIORS GAME what and I DOING with my life but ALSO that’s not an EXCUSE because BOTW is right THERE #and ALSO I need to not look like an narcissistic asshole and convey these thoughts in an articulate and understandable and NOT BORING way #can I just force project my thoughts and passions on this so we can save time here what is a Kip to do #lots of tags very sorry

[bratz-kitten]

Hello there love, a fellow 11th house mercury here! just saw a post where you talked a little about that placement and it was the most accurate thing I’ve ever read hahaha so my question is if you could elaborate a little bc i find it a little hard to understand that placement. my mercury is sadly also in retrograde in my chart so that doesn’t make things easier…

thank you so much!! much love xxx

okay so, for reference, i touched a bit on mercury in the 11th house here and here (which was mostly about mercury in the 12th house anyway), but the biggest point i made there was that this mercury makes you someone who needs constant intellectual stimulation, we have very restless thoughts and it can be maddening sometimes because our brains just don't shut up... ever. which is why we need to be engaging in conversation so much or at least letting our thoughts out some other way, in a blog, for example (take it from me lmfao). it's interesting that the 11th house rules technology as well as social circles, because it sure feels like we have a non-stop podcast in our minds. like, the only time where i feel like my brain is experiencing a moment of peace is afterward a really intense conversation, when i get to debate my ideas with someone who's just as passionate (and slightly insane) as me.

that being said, we prefer to keep conversation light-hearted and fun. this house for mercury shows an ease when it comes to talking with whoever, so you might have a lot of acquaintances. you might even feel like wherever you go, everyone knows your name and it can be a very unsettling feeling at times. as in, you get introduced to a group of people you've never met before but somehow they all know who you are, so you might experience people gossiping a lot about you, making up rumors that get widely spread; people make all kinds of assumptions about you. that's because even though you know a lot of people, you keep the conversation purposely superficial and only open up to like three people, if that much.

now, keep in mind that this is a double-edged sword: not only do people gossip a lot about people, but you tend to gossip as well. even if you tell yourself it's light-hearted and you only do it with your closest friends, it can be too much at times, and it's very easy to cross the line of "i'm just curious" to being downright shitty, and you need to watch out for what comes out of your mouth because you do stress a lot about having good morals.

you possess a lot of social intelligence and you might be very aware of that, using it in everyday matters – when you enter a group, you start observing the dynamics that play between everyone: who talks the most with who, who feels the most or less comfortable with who, who's still only acquaintances and who's falling in love but doesn't know it yet; you observe all of that and start taking mental notes about people's behaviors: the way they talk, their humor (especially if they laugh at the expense of others or not), if they overshare, what they leave unsaid; you take in all of that and that's your way of getting to know people so that you can start predicting their behavior. like i said, you find it very hard to trust others enough to open up so you make others prove themselves before you do so. in friendships, this is less biting, as in you don't just walk up to someone and go like hey prove me of your worth lmfao, you simply start observing their actions and if they pass the vibe check, they're in.

the problem starts in your romantic relationships – this is where you make someone prove themselves again and again that they're deserving of your trust and loyalty as you continuously doubt them. and suddenly, this isn't the dating stage; it's like your potential partner is harry potter going through the triwizard tournament just to get the prize of 10% of your trust. and it's, like, no. stop it. you can't expect people to drop everything to offer you the world while you're hesitant about even holding their hand in public. that's self-sabotaging and it's just a way for you to ensure that you don't get too intimate with people, that you don't reveal too much of yourself. relationships are about the equality between giving and taking, and you can sometimes be caught up in wanting to receive before even considering giving.

the best way i can put this is through an example: kim kardashian has her mercury in the 11th house. so, it's no wonder that this mercury makes someone really fucking ambitious, sometimes even without you realizing. the 11th house rules dreams and humanity as a whole, so you might be constantly in tune with your dreams and finding a way to get yourself further to them. like i said, this can be unconscious at times; perhaps you take on a small project that's meant to be fun and insignificant but suddenly it blows up out of proportion, suddenly your whole life revolves around it and you're getting recognized for it. you can be very calculating and borderline manipulative at times since you're so focused on trying to control the circumstances around you. not even just in real life, perhaps when you're playing video games you find yourself focusing a lot of your attention on understanding the characters and their motivations; and then, when you meet someone who feels shady as fuck and who looks like they could betray you, your thinking process isn't how can i stop this person from betraying me, it's how can i use this person's betrayal to my advantage. it's like, jesus christ on steroids lmfao. you have a talent for turning difficult situations into the diamond in the rough, for thriving when facing obstacles.

you're very cynical about your friendships, you understand that most people don't have good intentions and you're likely to make a clear distinction between party friends and actual friends. the first group are the people who you have casual fun with, who you do stupid shit with and who perhaps you engage with to keep up appearances or further your connections, while the second group are the actual people who you'd ride or die for, and those are scarce.

here, there's a yearning for actual friendships present even through your fear of doing so, and you might find yourself getting occupied with issues of the 11th house: philosophy, metaphysics, individuality vs. humanity as a whole, freedom, moral issues – for you, nothing is taboo enough, just like nothing is progressive or out-of-the-box enough. my advice for people with this placement is to read the greeks. seriously, hearing plato spend a whole book discussing what is morality is like our wet dream. you love debating especially with your friends, and if you can't talk with someone for hours and hours on end with the conversation never once stalling, then they're not fit to be your friends at all. besides this, you might be very drawn to politics, power, any knowledge that helps you achieve your dreams.

you have big dreams and you might feel a strong calling to help as many people as possible, to save the world, to have your voice be heard. your goals might be downright inconceivable to some people, so you can feel ostracized by the members of the community where you live: perhaps your parents and other family members don't believe in you and would rather you just stick to the plan they forged for you; perhaps you were forced into choosing between their path or yours; no matter what, the choice lies in your hands and so does the power to achieve whatever you desire.

#mercury in the 11th house #astrology #capricorn #aquarius #libra #gemini #aries #pisces #cancer #virgo #taurus #leo #sagittarius #scorpio #answered

[dudeandduchess]

Yakuza!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Sugar and Spice (Mafia!AU, Modern AU, NSFW Series)[Chapter 2]

Summary: Kyōjurō and (Y/n) meet at a party, only to find out that their lives would change forever— since they had been arranged to be married. To make matters even more difficult for them, they were from two different walks of life, with (Y/n) being the Prime Minister’s daughter, and Kyōjurō being the heir to his clan’s Yakuza group.

Warnings: Smut, Kabedon, Groping, Making Out, Marking

Chapter 1| Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

***

No matter how much (Y/n) tried to shake the memory of those piercing eyes from her mind, she never could forget just how hauntingly beautiful they were— especially when they were trained so hard on her the night before.

It was why she had made a hasty escape; tucking tail and practically shoving her champagne glass at a waiter, before making up some halfhearted excuse about forgetting a prior engagement.

She could tell that the ladies she had been with were skeptic of her reasons, but had still let her go; just in time, as well, because Kyōjurō would have gotten to her if they had tried to keep her any longer.

Still, hours after that ordeal— even while she laid on her bed— with the warm, morning rays of the sun shining down on her through her windows, she could still feel the less-than-proper intent behind them. They were the eyes of a predator; someone who was silently telling her that he was going to devour her.

And if she were being honest, it scared and thrilled her at the same time.

“Hopefully, I’ll never have to see him again,” The young woman whispered to herself, right before closing her eyes and stretching her limbs outwards; it felt so good on her tired muscles. But her peaceful time alone was cut short with a soft but firm knock on her door.

“Good morning, (Y/n)-sama.” She almost groaned aloud at the sound of her temporary secretary’s voice; wishing to all hell that she were back in her university dorm— protected by a bodyguard, but still living with relative privacy.

But, unfortunately, it was summer break and she was obligated to stay at the Prime Minister’s residence; much like how her brothers were also required to live there when they weren’t living at their dorms. And, being the youngest— as well as the only girl— out of three children, her father was much stricter on her.

(Y/n) sighed then, deciding not to stall any longer and calling out a flat ‘come in’. It was then followed by the quiet creaking of the door, as well as the soft footsteps coming towards her bed.

As much as the young woman still wanted to just go back to sleep, she decided not to be difficult and opened her eyes— only for them to fall on Rin. She was a frail woman in her mid-thirties, looking very strict with her neatly pressed uniform; but it was her severely tight bun that had (Y/n) and her siblings knowing that the woman meant business at first glance.

“Good morning, Rin-san, may I know my schedule for today?” (Y/n) asked with a forced smile, knowing full well that she had a full roster for that day— what with her mother forking over some small charity appearances over to her and her brothers; all to show the people that they were very much active in society, despite also being busy with their own passion projects.

Rin nodded at that, before referring down to her clipboard and flipping a page— which had (Y/n)’s eyebrows quirking, since she saw so many things highlighted on one of her brothers’ schedule sheets.

“Your schedule has been cleared today, (Y/n)-sama.” That explained why she saw all those neon yellow lines on the pages before hers, but that had her stomach tightening with apprehension; because having a clear schedule at the last minute didn’t really bring good things.

“And why is that?”

“The Prime Minister has requested an audience with you for brunch, and he asked that you clear your schedule for the rest of the day to entertain his guest.”

Suddenly, she wanted to switch schedule with either one of her brothers. Hell, she would have rather been giving speeches and kissing babies, if it got her out of whatever clown show her father was about to put her through.

“Can I get out of this brunch?”

“No, Miss.”

“Alright, then. What time is this… fiasco? Nine-thirty? Ten? And do I already have something to wear for it?”

***

Who comes in late to meet the Prime Minister? The barbed thoughts reverberated around within (Y/n)’s head, as she presented a calm and collected façade for the world to see.

The dress she wore was modest enough for brunch, but with a touch of sexiness that had her quirking an eyebrow at the stern Rin when it had been handed to her earlier. Because, normally, Rin had her dressed up with the most modest of dresses; it would have been enough to put any miko to shame.

That already had her mind reeling with possibilities, yet she didn’t dare jump on any of them— since there were also numerous other things that could happen. Nothing was impossible, what with her being the daughter of Japan’s Prime Minister, after all.

For all she knew, she could be meeting the Prince of Wales with her father.

“Are we meeting Prince Charles, otou-sama? I didn’t brush up on my English last night,” She whispered to her father, who stifled his laughter and dabbed his table napkin to his lips— if only to muffle his humorous chuckles.

Yorihiko, (Y/n)’s father, turned to her then— before lowering his table napkin back down to his lap and showing her his bright grin. For someone who was in his mid-sixties, he still looked as youthful as ever. And, save for the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes— as well as the greying hair atop his head— she would have gandered him as not a day over fifty. “Not the Prince of Wales, (Y/n)-chan, but someone who will be much more important to this family in the future.”

Maybe it was just her being a little chilly, but she felt shivers race down her spine at those ominous words. However, she couldn’t even collect herself before the butler announced that their long-awaited guest was finally there.

And she had to try really hard to pick her jaw up from the ground when she saw two heads of blond hair coming out into the garden. The one she knew as Rengoku Kyōjurō wore a crisp, black suit with a blood red tie— one that matched his eyes and hair very well; while the older man next to him wore a formal kimono with a sleek, black haori perched on his shoulders.

“The yakuza, otou-sama?” (Y/n) whisper-yelled at her father, who only gave her a nod before getting up from his seat— all while smoothly laying his table napkin on the table— so he could greet their guests.

She followed suit immediately, but she couldn’t help her unsteady legs as she walked around the table and gave the Rengokus a small bow. “Welcome to our home, dear guests.”

“Don’t be too stiff, daughter; call me otou-sama,” The older man spoke in a gruff tone, smirking all the while as he looked at (Y/n).

The young woman couldn’t even speak, but managed a small nod— right before turning to the man that she had been under just the night before. A chorus of “oh no”s kept playing inside her head, but she couldn’t even voice out her panic, nor her disapproval at whatever arrangement had been arranged between her and the Yakuza heir.

“How about we have our meal as we talk, Shinjurō? And then we can leave the kids to be acquainted?” Yorihiko suggested with a bright smile, all while motioning over to the table that he and (Y/n) had been sitting at earlier.

It already burned (Y/n) to even be in the same vicinity as the man who had been between her legs just the night before, but it burned her even more when he smirked right at her— before offering his arm to her; as if he was the perfect gentleman.

And with her being who she was, couldn’t even turn him down. So, she found herself slipping a hand into the crook of his arm; holding on to him as he walked her back to the table. To make matters even worse for her, he even pulled out her chair for her, before helping her sit down.

That action hadn’t been done for mere chivalry, however, as Kyōjurō took it as a chance to whisper right by her ear, “It’s nice to see you again, baby. You look really… fuckable in that dress.”

“Fuck you.” (Y/n) managed to whisper back, which earned a sexy little chuckle from the blond.

He wanted nothing more than to pull her by the hair and make her face him, just so he could kiss her breathless and show her that he wasn’t to be messed with, but they were in front of company, and he didn’t want to disrespect her like that in front of their fathers.

After all, he was going to be his wife. And he was always taught that Rengokus respected their wives above all else.

“You almost did, baby. Maybe on the honeymoon, though,” Kyōjurō whispered back with a grin, before finally pulling away and taking the empty seat right next to her— much to (Y/n)’s chagrin.

Lunch passed by in a blur for (Y/n), however; with conversation being led by the two patriarchs. She was nothing more than a spectator at the table, since she was still trying to wrap her head around what was happening.

And, from what she could catch, she and Kyōjurō really were arranged to be married. In this day and age, arranged marriages were such an archaic concept but, apparently, the Rengokus had a lot to do with her father getting the Prime Minister position— and he owed them a lot.

So, now that the Rengokus are being pinned with crimes that weren’t their doings— and with Shinjurō facing multiple life sentences if things aren’t resolved— they had to cash in that favor with (Y/n)’s father.

After all, what better way to clear someone’s name, than to get related through marriage to the very man who signs them? No other man’s vouch could be stronger that the Prime Minister’s; if he said that he trusted the Rengokus enough to have his only daughter marry into their family, then all those pending cases would be dismissed as nothing more than baseless accusations.

(Y/n) had always known that her father was involved with all kinds of people, but she had never even had an inkling that he had been rubbing elbows with the Yakuza— of all people.

***

Once brunch was over— with her food having been barely touched— the patriarchs left both (Y/n) and Kyōjurō in the garden to ‘get acquainted’. However, (Y/n) had much more different things in mind, so she got up from her seat and tossed her table napkin onto the table; all before making hasty escape back into the house.

Kyōjurō’s eyebrows quirked at his fiancée’s actions, but it didn’t dampen the smirk that tugged up at the corners of his lips; as he watched her hips swaying so seductively a few ways away from him.

Last night, he had been pissed to have seen her walking away from him— and that time was no different, but it posed an extremely exciting challenge that he was more than willing to take on.

So, that was how he found himself getting up from his own seat and following after her— but not before glaring right at the guards that had been about to keep him from following her.

That kept them right in their places, which was good enough for him— and had him resuming his leisurely stroll right behind his charismatic bride-to-be.

But she didn’t get to go much farther than the back door of the mansion; as Kyōjurō quickly took his chance to press her back against the wall— making sure to cushion the back of her head, as he caged her in with his right arm and his body.

“Don’t walk away from me, baby,” Kyōjurō stated with a smile; right before dipping his head down to brush his lips against hers in the faintest of kisses.

That move didn’t fail to make (Y/n)’s toes curls right in her heels, but she tried so hard to ignore the tingles that were shooting across her skin; even taking to looking at anywhere but at Kyōjurō.

All because the events from the night before were playing in her mind— hot, raunchy, and filled with so much lust for him.

But the blond wasn’t deterred by her reaction at all, coming to press his hips right against her— and making her feel the bulge that was slowly growing bigger beneath his pants.

“Come on, sweetheart. Kiss me like you did last night,” The young man teased once more, then dipped his head down to catch her lips once more‚ but in a much deeper kiss that, inevitably, had (Y/n) melting against him; especially when he lightly tugged at her hair, all while gently nipping at her bottom lip.

All the while, his right hand snaked itself down to cup her right hip; kneading it in a gentle massage, before slipping down further so he could cup her ass. He then gave it a squeeze, which had her gasping right into their kiss; giving him enough time to slip his tongue right between her lips, all so he could play with her own.

When Kyōjurō felt her responding to his kisses— much like how she was last night— he took that as his chance to tease her even further by pulling away; latching on to her neck and trailing kisses down to the crook where her neck met her shoulders— and biting down on the skin, before sucking on it to leave a love bite.

He wasn’t contented with just one, however, and found himself leaving more of his marks all over her neck as well. Every single one had her moaning softly and, somewhere along the way, one of her hands had made its way onto the back of his own head— where she was gripping his hair tightly.

She was really melting under his touch, and he loved it so much.

And things only made a turn for the better when he quickly bunched the back of her dress up with the hand that had been groping her ass, before slipping his hand down further so he could cup her pussy from behind; grinning when he felt her so wet beneath her underwear.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asked, all while rubbing the tips of his fingers against her soaked entrance; loving the way that her fingers kept tightening and loosening on his hair— especially the subtle way that she was trying to rub her pussy up against his cock.

(Y/n) was silent at first— refusing to give in and answer him— until the blond readjusted his hand and made quick work of slipping it up the front of her dress; right before pushing her panties aside and pinching her clit between his index and middle fingers. The move had her hips jerking involuntarily, and also had her moaning softly when Kyōjurō began to play with the little bud.

“…Please.”

“Please what, sweetheart?”

(Y/n) was just about to give in and actually beg him to fuck her right there— up against the side of her father’s residence— when all sense came crashing down on her and she yanked on Kyōjurō’s hair… hard. “Get off of me!”

It was clear on Kyōjurō’s face that that move had pissed him off, but he couldn’t help but obey (Y/n)’s words— albeit reluctantly. And he wanted to just scowl at her, but the sight of her looking so disheveled had him laughing; outright laughing, as he took in her messed up lipstick and crazy hair.

The glare that (Y/n) was aiming right at him looked mildly threatening, but it was the best she could do— especially when she heard the blond’s attractive laughter. How a laugh could be attractive, she didn’t know; it just was— and it was highly unfair, since he already had such a handsome face.

Even the fresh love bites all over her neck and shoulders added to her ‘just fucked’ look, diminishing the aggressiveness in her expression even more, and that pleased Kyōjurō so much.

He couldn’t wait until he really messed her up. He’d make sure that she wouldn’t even be able to get out of bed in the morning.

#rengoku kyoujurou x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #kyojurou rengoku x reader #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojurou x reader #kyojurou x reader #kyojurou rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyoujurou #kyojuro rengoku #rengoku kyojurou #kyoujurou x reader #demon slayer kyojuro #rengoku kyōjurō #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #jen writes

[lillywillow]

Measured Up

Summary: Steve needs a new uniform which you’re more than happy to make

 Word Count: 981

 Square Filled: Uniform

 Pairings: Steve x Reader

 Warnings: Maybe a little spicy, nothing graphic though

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

 When it came to designing uniforms for unique occasions, you were somewhat of an expert having created suits from Special Forces, to the likes of the X-Men. Every one of them was tailored for each individual person, taking into account of their needs and uses. You used top quality materials, sometimes having to specially order them which wasn’t a problem because you were often paid handsomely for your craft. If you really wanted to, you could be a high-end fashion designer but you preferred to stay in obscurity. This of course led to people swooping in and taking claim for your work but you didn’t mind it too much. Your humble attitude and passion for your work is what is America’s sweetheart Steve Rogers was drawn to.

When you had first met, you had been creating a new suit for one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s newest assets. Steve took one look at your focussed face and fell in love. In the weeks that followed, he worked up the courage to ask you out and that was how you ended up dating.

 Then came the day when Steve needed a new uniform and there was only one person he even considered getting to create it. To his surprise, you had already sketched out a few designs. You hadn’t actually thought this day would come, it was just a few doodles you did when you were bored. As Steve looked through them, he could tell you had put a lot of thought into them, each strap and buckle serving a different and deliberate purpose. Once a design had been given the seal of approval by Fury, you set out on making it become a reality.

 The first step was to take his measurements. His hands, feet and head were easy to do but the next part left you feeling a little flustered.

 “Would you mind...” you cleared your throat. “Would you mind stripping down to your underwear?”

 Steve blushed and raised an eyebrow.

 “I-it’s so I can take accurate measurements of your body to perfectly fit the suit...”

 He nodded, and did so. You looked away to give him privacy. Once he had given you the clear signal, you turned back to him. You could feel your face heating up as you looked him up and down. This was a job you had done many times before on many different people but this was the first time you were doing this to a boyfriend.

 “Well?” Steve asked, breaking you out of your trance.

 “Oh! Right...”

 With your measuring tape in hand, you began the task of sizing him up. Steve obeyed every little request you made of him, holding his arms out so you could do his shoulder to wrist, underarm to hip and chest ratios. You paused for a moment, glancing at his perfect pink lips, the tape in your hand idle. Steve gently took it from you, taking in both hands behind your back and using it to pull you close to his body, your lips connecting with his. Closing your eyes, you surrendered to the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and tangling your fingers in his hair. Steve hummed against your lips and held you tighter. Just as you broke for air, an agent burst into the room, immediately blushing at the intimate situation he had interrupted.

 “Um, err, Fury wanted to know what was taking so long. You have a meeting with him. I’ll just... tell him something...” The agent ran out of the room like his tail was on fire and leaving the door wide open. To anyone who looked inside, the scene could look like a little more than what was actually happening. Feeling embarrassed, you laid your head against Steve’s shoulder.

 “We should... probably continue, right?” he asked, face still crimson.

 “We should but first, let me lock the door...”

 As bad as may have looked being caught in a passionate embrace, you knew that someone walking in on you while you were doing Steve’s inseam would have looked worse. After you had jotted down all his measurements, you allowed Steve to get dressed.

 “Do you think we could continue that kiss later? After my meeting with Fury?” he questioned hopefully.

 “Once you’re finished, I’ll give you all the kisses you want,” you smiled.

 Steve giddily smiled back and headed off. Now the work on his new uniform could begin.

...

 The weeks flew by and you busily worked on the suit. S.H.I.E.L.D. had provided you with all the resources you could possibly need and it wasn’t long before you had the project completed. With a sense of pride, you handed your creation over to see and try on. This would be the uniform Steve would save countless lives in, the one the whole world would see. Even though you knew no one else would know you were the one who made it, you knew and it gave you a sense of satisfaction.

 Steve put on the suit and walked out. It fit perfectly in every sense and he looked damn fine in it. Steve did a trial run in the uniform, finding he was able to move freely and had easy access to that all important shield. The moment he was done, he ran over to you and kissed you deeply, smiling against your lips.

 “I knew you were the perfect person to make this, Y/N,” he smiled as he pulled away.

 “Just doing my job,” he breathed, the kiss making you feel a little breathless.

 “From now on, I’m going to ask Fury if you can be my official uniform maker!”

 You couldn’t help but grin. Official uniform maker to Captain America did have a nice ring to it.

#ssb2021 #Steve Rogers #steve rodgers x reader #marvel #captain america #Uniform #Measured Up #Kissing #Sewing #Fashion

[babymetaldoll]

DIWK - Chapter four: "Hurt"

Words count: 13,7K

The gif is mine ✨

Warnings: Hardcore Spencer trauma. Mention of drug abuse,  torture, Criminal Minds usual case triggers. Spoilers of Season 2 E14/15 Criminal Minds.

Summary: An unsub abducts Spencer, and reader blames JJ for it.

A/N: Have you ever wished you were there to save Spencer from Tobias Hankel? I know I have. I know reader wants to... I'm dying to know what you'll think of this chapter! Sorry if it's a little too graphic, writing Spencer's POV of this episode was really hard.

Series Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen |

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(Y/N)'s point of view

I remember the day Emily Prentiss arrived. We had a case in Saint Louis. Two serial killers, 'cos it couldn't just be one asshole making everyone miserable. And on top of all, Hotch was confused and upset 'cos he never signed Emily's transfer to the BAU. It was like someone was trying to force her into the team, and we all thought it was weird.

We left the bullpen off to the case and left Prentiss in the office, not knowing if she actually got the job or not. I know Elle and I weren't incredibly close, but it still felt weird to think someone might join the team and try to replace her. It didn't work that way in that job. It didn't feel right at the moment.

There is something I also distinctly remember about that day: Gideon talked to me. And not only that, but he actually trusted my knowledge. We hadn't been on the best terms for a few months, so that approach meant a lot to me.

We were at the police station. Reid and I had been analyzing the letters one of the killers had sent to a journalist to find something that might help us catch him before there were any more victims. That's when JJ and Jason walked in, and he asked about our progress.

- "He only sent this to an individual, which shows he is not confident enough to initiate contact with the masses."- Spencer explained as he projected an image of the letter on the wall.

- "Emotional indicators are analyzed through slants, and you can see the shooter maintains vertical, narrow letter writing, and both are signs of repression"- I said and pointed at the image on the wall- "And the pressure, if you look closely, it's excessively heavy, which shows that he's uptight and can easily overreact."

Gideon looked at me and nodded. It was my cue to keep on talking. For once in a long time, I was feeling approved by him.

- "You got all that from his handwriting?"- JJ asked me, surprised. Reid looked at me from the other side of the room, and I could feel his smile reflecting how proud he was of me.

- "Graphology is an effective and reliable indicator of personality and behavior."

- "But my writing is always different,"- she added, and I nodded. I was waiting for that comment.

- "Yes, because it represents your emotions at the moment, just like your facial expressions parallel the way you are feeling while you are speaking."

- "What else can we know about our unsub from this?"- Gideon asked me.

- "Well, our killer uses simple statements, all first person, like "I won't be ignored," which means he's obviously tired of feeling this way. He may have a job in solitude or one that he feels strips of his identity. His work might require him to wear a uniform, something that shows absolutely no individuality, or he may be overqualified for his menial job and feels that he doesn't get the respect that he necessarily deserves."

I made a pause and waited for his words. I was giving my best, and I swear I was still hoping I could ever get Jason Gideon's blessing.

- "I think we are ready to give a profile,"- he said and nodded.

And damn, that felt good.

When we were back in Quantico, Hotch had a long and clearly awkward conversation with the section chief, Erin Strauss. She was scary. She was clearly trying to get rid of Hotch, questioning his work daily, decisions, and how he managed the team. Why? I have no idea.

It felt she forced him to accept Prentiss into the team. We were one man down after Elle left. Ok, one awesome woman down, so we definitely needed some help. And Emily was a great addition from day one.

We clicked right away. Prentiss was funny, smart, but most of all, she constantly had to prove she deserved to be there. Just like me. Gideon gave her the cold shoulder from day one, and that I could relate. The only difference was that she won him over in a few days, though. I was still trying to win that battle.

Garcia decided we needed a girl's night, and she hosted the first of many "BAU Girl Power get together." Basically, it was us at Penelope's place drinking and talking.

That first night, we updated Prentiss with everything that had happened with Elle. She wanted to know everything about us, what we did, how long we've been on the team, and how we all got along. It was sweet and fresh. After that year in the BAU, I had already learned to enjoy the sweet things in life. Like getting drunk with my work girlfriends.

- "So, does Hotch ever smile?"- Emily asked, and we all laughed at the very same time. Yes, it was getting late, and we weren't as sober as we should have been.

- "He does! he does!"- JJ assured us- "You should see him with his baby."

- "He is a dad?"- Emily was shocked. I was surprised too when I found out Aaron was married and with a baby. The amount of time he spends at work always made me feel he had zero personal life.

- "And has a beautiful wife"- JJ added- "He is always laughing when he is with her and baby Jack."

- "I guess this job can drain the happiness from your day... "- I thought out loud, but before anyone could say anything about my dark and bitter comment, my cell phone rang.

- "Hey honey bunny, everything ok?"- I stood up and walked to the kitchen. I didn't want to interrupt the girl's conversations.

- "Yes, I just wanted to make sure you were drinking enough water between drinks"- I laughed and shook my head. Only Reid could call to say such a thing. He was the sweetest friend on earth.

- "Yes, I am, don't worry. I'm not going to be hungover or drunk tomorrow. I know you are excited about the new exposition."

- "You are gonna love it!"

- "I am sure I will"- and I wasn't kidding. I loved when he dragged me to the Smithsonian or any museum for some nerdy fun.

- "Have fun with the girls."

- "What are you doing, by the way?"

- "Just reading a little, you left your complete Sherlock Holmes collection here, so I'll be solving mysteries while you get drunk."

- "Don't have too much fun without me"- he chuckled and ended the call. I smiled and walked back to the girls looking at me with a funny grin on their faces.

- "Was that your boyfriend?"- Penelope asked me, and I frowned right away.

- "No, it was Reid. He just wanted to confirm we are going to the museum tomorrow."

- "Wait"- Prentiss narrowed her brows and looked at us confused- "Reid ain't your boyfriend?"

JJ and Garcia's laughter was epical, as well as my frown. They nearly gasped for air while Prentiss and I waited until they calmed down.

- "No"- I finally answered- "Reid is not my boyfriend."

- "He is more than that; he is her work husband,"- Penelope clarified, and I turned to her with my mouth wide open, shocked.

- "What the fuck? Reid ain't my work husband. He is my best friend!!"

- "Yes, and you happen to call your best friend "honey bunny," right?"- JJ questioned, just like she had a few months before when we were alone in our room away on a case.

- "Reid is my best friend, and yes, I call all my close friends by weird pet names. You will get one too if you are lucky."

- "But I thought"- Emily continued- "I mean, he looks at you like you are his sun."

- "No, Prentiss, the only coupe in this team is the one between "chocolate thunder" and "baby girl" right here"- I pointed at Garcia, and she just blushed and covered her face.

- "My love for Derek will burn forever with the intensity of a thousand suns. I mean, have you seen that man? he was made by the gods and sent to earth just to give my existence some sense"- we all laughed at those cheesy words, though Pen was serious about them.

- "But, have you ever...?- JJ looked at her and made a pause. We were all looking at every single facial movement or behavior she might show to read her body language."

- "My relationship with my loverman could never be tainted by something as mundane as sex."

- "Like you wouldn't lick honey from that six-pack and ride that thunder."

The words just left my lips, and I blame the buzz. BAU (Y/N) would have never said that. Drunk (Y/N) would, totally.

The girls laughed until tears fell from their eyes, and I just chuckled, honestly happy to make them laugh. I had been more of the real me than I had ever actually been around them in nearly a year.

- "Hello?"- my phone rang again when I was walking out of the bathroom. And this time, it was Paul.

- "Hey babe, what are you doing?"

- "Hey, I'm..."- I looked at the girls in front of me and sighed- "I'm stuck with paperwork"- and they turned to me immediately. I could read the "What the fuck" on their faces.

- "Well, I'm at Rob's in case you feel like dropping by. We are writing a few songs."

- "I'll text you if I finish with this early, but... have fun."

- "Ok, bye"- I hung up and sighed.

- "And that was..."- Prentiss asked, frowning.

- "My boyfriend,"- I explained and grabbed another beer

- "Sure, I could feel the passion,"- Garcia joked, but I just didn't think it was funny.

I knew my relationship with Paul wasn't alright. Actually, things with Paul weren't. Period. We were done, it was apparent, but still, neither of us had said it. That relationship was just a few phone calls every once in a while, only to make small talks. When we were together, we would just watch a movie, eat something, drink a few beers, and that was it. It had been a long time since we had sex or even made out. I don't know why I didn't end it sooner. I guess I was just afraid to do it.

But I let more months pass before I actually did something.

Spencer's point of view

I'm not proud of what happened that year after Prentiss joined the team. I think that year changed me profoundly, and a part of me never fully recovered afterward.

Maybe it had to be that way, and it was something I had to go through to grow up. I guess I'm still trying to make some sense of all the misery I put my friends through. Mostly (Y/N). She was in hell with me.

A few weeks after New Year, we started working on a case. Someone was killing wealthy people in their own homes. At first, we thought there were two unsubs, 'cos one of them called 911 after killing, and you could hear them struggling and arguing. But no, it was just one.

Tobias Hankel was a delusional serial killer. He had split personalities, not two but actually three. His father, the one who tortured me. The archangel Raphael, who was trying to make God's will, killing people. And himself, who wanted to save me, but instead, he nearly destroyed me.

What do I remember about the day he kidnapped me? I remember I was stupid enough to try to catch an unsub alone, just to prove I could take care of myself on the field. Hotch sent me and JJ to talk to Hankel at his house, 'cos apparently, he might have seen the unsub months earlier. But no, he was the unsub, and neither JJ nor me could stop him.

We hid in a barn, and I was so eager to prove I could catch him; I told JJ we had to split up to cover the place. I was counting on Hotch to get there with the team sooner than they did, and before I realized it, I was in the middle of a cornfield, and Hankel was pointing at me with my own gun.

I was sure I was going to die right there. All of Hankel's personalities were struggling inside of him. I couldn't stop thinking about why I thought I could do it on my own? Why had I been a reckless asshole? Was it because I wanted to prove I was an excellent SAA? Because I wanted to impress JJ? Maybe I tried to convince myself I could do the same job my team did. I knew I wasn't the most physical person, but I had a gun. I had been trained to capture killers.

Yes, I was an asshole that day, and I've regretted everything that happened that night many, many times in the following years.

When I woke up, I was tied to a chair, and the archangel Raphael had taken Hankel's mind completely. The room was dark, and it smelled awful. He was burning fish hearts and livers, 'cos he believed it kept the devil away.

I was confused and lost. My head was spinning, and my heart was about to burst into my chest. I knew I could die any second now. Raphael wasn't the one to show mercy. That's what I had learned from all the videos Hankel had uploaded to the web. He had shared with the world every murder they had committed to show the other sinners what was going to happen to them.

- "They believe you can see inside men's minds"- Raphael looked at me with dark eyes, implying he meant Tobias and his father

- "It's not true. I study human behavior."- my voice was shaking. I knew I had never been more scared in my entire life. He took out a gun and showed me one bullet.

- "Do you know what this is? It's God's will."

Things didn't look good for me. He put it in the cylinder of the revolver and spun it. He was going to let my life to luck.

- "You don't have to do this"- I tried to talk him out of it, though I knew it wasn't going to work.

- "No go, sinners, to your God."

And he pressed the trigger.

What went through my mind the seconds that passed between having the gun pointed to my face and realizing I had lived? My mom. All I could think of was how my mom would react to the news of my death. I could never bear to hurt her like that. I couldn't die. I couldn't leave her alone.

I sighed, relieved, and bit my lips not to cry. Raphael looked at me with a blank expression and walked out of the room. I had survived for now.

I struggled with my handcuff, but it was useless. My head was killing me. I could feel the open wound on my head, still dripping blood on my temple and head. I tried to focus on the pain for a few minutes, just to make sure I was awake. It was a nightmare, and keeping myself sane and conscious under those circumstances was nearly impossible.

How was I going to get out of there alive? Did the team know where I was? I had no idea where I had been taken. I had been unconscious the whole way. It was dark, and I couldn't see much around me. I wasn't afraid of that darkness. I was more fearful of the man that left me alone, 'cos he was armed and mentally unstable. Darkness had nothing on him.

I had to focus on the things that kept me sane. The things that made me want to get out of that room alive.

- "My name is Spencer Walter Reid. I'm twenty-five years old, my mother's name is Diana Reid, I was born in Las Vegas, October 28th, 1981."

I closed my eyes and tried to think of all the things that made me happy.

- "I work at the BAU, my best friend's name is (Y/N), and she sits at the desk in front of me. Derek Morgan is the closest I've got to an older brother."

He was. He still is. You have to be close to dead to start seeing things clearly sometimes. Derek was my brother. He treated me like a kid, but a kid brother. He was always teasing me, trying to teach me how to pick up girls, trying to drag me to the gym with him. Derek was a good friend, we were very different, and I knew if we had been classmates in high school, we would probably never have talked. He was a jock, and I was a nerd. But life had brought us together. And now I couldn't think of a better friend than him.

I tried to focus on my happiest memories. My birthday came to mind. The guys had planned a Halloween-themed birthday party at the conference room of the BAU. Of course, Garcia baked a cake and (Y/N) helped her decorate it. It was incredible, 'cos it was covered with tiny gourds and skulls.

- "Frank and Mikey sent you these,"- she announced after everybody had given me their presents. I wide opened my eyes in shock 'cos I had no idea her friends knew it was my birthday or even cared about it.

- "Why?"- I had to ask.

- "'Cos they think you are amazing. They actually wanted to come over to your house and have a few beers tonight."- I opened my mouth to say something, but Derek interrupted me.

- "Pretty boy is gonna get to work hungover again."

- "Shut up"- (Y/N) and I said at the same time, making everybody chuckle. I opened the present her friends had sent me and laughed right away.

- "Lucky Doc"- I read and took out of the bag a Sports Illustrated issue with Lila Archer on the cover. My cheeks turned red immediately.

- "Frank still hasn't overcome that story. I think he will hate you forever"- (Y/N) laughed (along with the rest of the team) and gave me another present.

- "They also sent you this. They said you were going to like the man in black"- it was a Johnny Cash's vinyl- "Frank picked it. He thinks he is some sort of musical psychic that can read people's taste in music."

- "We should get together and have a few beers one of these days. I need to thank them for these."

Gideon looked at me in silence as soon as I said those words. But I didn't care if he disapproved. I was going to be (Y/N)'s friend, whether he liked it or not.

He is the closest I've had to a dad in the latest years. He cares about me, and he tries to make the best of me that he can. Yes, he can be too apprehensive. I think that's a way to put it. But only because he wants me to be the best profiler I can be.

I never thought I would end up working at the BAU. I never thought I would love the job I do as much as I do. Back when I was in college, I thought I would dedicate my life to finding a cure for schizophrenia, but I ended up hunting serial killers across the country.

And though I was about to die, I didn't regret any of the decisions that led me there.

The morning found me shaking, cold, and scared. I was in a small cabin in the woods. Just like the worst and more cliché horror movie ever made. This was my own horror movie.

- "What are you staring at, boy?"- Tobias opened the front door carrying logs for the fire. His voice had changed yet again, so I knew it wasn't the same person I had talked to the night before.

- "You are not Raphael."- I whispered, looking at every movement he did.

- "Do I look like Raphael?"- had I insulted him? I couldn't tell. He turned to the fire, and I took a deep breath, doing my best to stay calm.

- "Thank you for burning those, for keeping us safe."- I said, looking at the fish hearts and livers he was preparing to put on the fire.

- "Don't try to trick me."

- "I would never try to trick you."

- "You are a liar."

- I'm not a liar."- it was hard to stay calm and not start screaming for help or mercy, but I knew that was going to take me nowhere with him.

- "Lying is a sin."

- "I'm not a liar."- he walked closer to me, and sat right in front of me, held my leg up, and grabbed my foot.

- "This will be over quickly if you just confess your sins."

- "I am not a sinner"- I whispered again. He took off my shoe.

- "We are all sinners."- it didn't look good for me, not at all, and I knew I had to talk to him with his words with his beliefs to save my life.

- "The Lord spake unto Moses saying "Speak unto all the congregation of the children of the lord" and say unto them, ye shall be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy."

Hankel, this time in the personality of his father, looked at me surprised. I might have done something right, 'cos he stopped moving, and for a second, I thought it was going to be ok.

- "You know Leviticus."

- "I know every word of the bible. I can recite it for you."- but his eyes turned dark again.

- "The devil knows how to read too."

- "I'm not a devil, I'm not a devil2- I repeated, and couldn't stop shaking, 'cos my life on the hands of a sociopath.

- "I'm a man, my name is Spencer Reid, and I have a mother, and I have a father just like you, and they taught me the bible, let me recite the bible."

My voice cracked at the knowledge of what he was going to do. He stood up, still holding my foot. He was going to torture me, he was going to try to break me, and I had to be strong. I didn't know how I would find the strength, but I had to be strong.

- "Time to confess, Spencer Reid"- and without further notice, he slapped a log against my foot, making me scream in pain. It hurt from the tip of my toes until the back of my skull. I hadn't felt that kind of pain, and it was worse knowing he was just getting started. Tears started falling down my cheeks in no time.

- "Confess!"

- "I don't have anything to confess."- I whimpered and closed my eyes, 'cos I knew he was going to continue his torture. And so he did. The pain was excruciating. I was sure I was going to pass out

I tried to go to a happy place in my head, somewhere when I could hide from all that pain. It was too hard, though. It hurt too much. I kept repeating over and over again I wasn't a sinner, begging Hankel for mercy, as he shouted I had to confess.

I made an effort to think about what he might want me to say. What did he want me to confess? Which sins was he talking about? But nothing came to my mind, nothing but the pain and the fear of dying.

(Y/N)'s point of view

The second we reached Hankel's cabin, I started looking for Spencer. I had a horrible feeling about it. Morgan and I headed it to a barn with Prentiss. There was no sign of anyone. It was dark and quiet. Never a good sign.

- "Shit!"- I whispered, staring at three dead dogs and a bath of blood in front of me. There laid the body of another victim that was missing from Hankel's last attack.

- "FBI!!"- JJ shouted suddenly. She was pointing his gun to us, clearly in shock- "Don't move!!"

- "JJ, it's Morgan, (Y/L/N), and Prentiss! Don't shoot"- Derek tried to calm her down, walking towards her- "Are you hurt?"- she lowered the gun and stared at us. You could read the fear and the trauma in her eyes.

- "Tobias Hankel is the unsub,"- she whispered as Prentiss rubbed her arm sweetly, trying to comfort her.

- "Yeah, we know"- I moved towards her too and put my gun back into the holster.

- "And we thought he was just a witness"- we looked around, and JJ pointed at the dead dogs.

- "JJ, where is Reid?"- Derek asked her, but she just continued talking.

- "They completely tore her apart"

- "JJ, look at me,"- I said and held her arm carefully- "Look at me, where's Reid?"- she was shaking, and her voice was cracking. I knew she was making her best effort to pull herself together.

- "We split up. He said he was going to go in the back."

And there it was. That was the reason why I had a bad feeling all along. Derek looked at me and nodded as we read each other's minds. The two of us turned around and ran outside, leaving JJ with Prentiss, waiting for the medical team and ambulance to check on her wounds.

Gideon and Hotch were inside the cabin, looking for Hankel, but there was no one there. And there was no sign of Reid behind the barn either, in the cornfield, or anywhere in the perimeter. Reid was nowhere to be found, and I started losing it little by little. I tried to repeat myself the words Hotch had said many times during my year in the BAU: "when you are out there with the team; your mind has to be one hundred percent on the case." But the case had never included my best friend missing before.

- "Hey, is there any sign of him yet?- I asked the police chief as I reached the ambulance. He was there talking with JJ, making sure she was ok.

- "We got every one of our units on the road. He won't make it far"- I nodded and watched him walk away. I knew he thought I was talking about Hankel, but I actually meant Reid.

I turned to JJ and moved a little closer to her. Her eyes open wide, staring back at me.

- "You can't find Reid?"- I just shook my head and tried to sound as casual as I could, not to freak her out. She was still in shock. I didn't want to make it worse.

- "Not yet"

- "(Y/N)"- Derek held my arm and forced me to walk away from the ambulance.- "Reid followed him into the cornfield. It looks like somebody got dragged."

My heart stopped. Did the psychopath hurt Spencer? Did he kill him? Did he torture him? Was he hurt? Was he alive? Where was he? Derek looked at me, and I nodded. I bit my lips and took a deep breath. Hotch's words were my mantra now: "your mind has to be one hundred percent on the case."

- "Are you sure?"- we turned to the police's chief, overhearing his conversation- "We are on our way now."

- "What's going on?"

- "The sheriff down two towns over, he just gave directions to a man who fit Hankel's descriptions. It's to a motor lodge in fort bend."

- "Let's get Hotch and Gideon"- Derek held my arm and walked with me to the cabin. We had to find Reid, and we had to do it fast.

That was the worst night of my life. The first worst night of my life, to be sincere. I didn't close an eye. I went through every paper, every note, every detail in that cabin, trying to find a clue that could lead us to where Tobias had taken Reid.

I felt someone had ripped my heart from my chest. I had to think straight, and to do it, I had to keep a cold head. But as the hours passed, it became a more demanding and more challenging task to complete. I knew the whole team was suffering, but that didn't ease my pain. And I knew JJ felt guilty, but that didn't stop me from blaming her in my mind. She left him alone. I would have never left Spencer alone on the field.

- "(Y/N), you should try to get some rest."

Derek whispered as he sat on the floor next to me, where I had been sitting for the last half hour, reading Tobias's old diaries. Nothing but fear of his father, mentions of Dilaudid use, and bible transcriptions.

- "I'm ok,"- I answered and didn't even take my eyes from the pages.

- "(Y/N), I mean it"

- "I'm not going to rest if he is out there in the hands of a psychopath, Derek"- I had to bite my lips and shut the fuck up, 'cos if I said one more word, I knew I was going to burst into tears.

Morgan just wrapped an arm around my shoulders and moved me closer to him. That was the first time I let him hug me, and it felt good to know I wasn't alone in my desperation. I knew he loved Reid like a brother, and neither of us was going to stop until we found him.

- "Welcome to our nightmare"- JJ's voice broke the silence we had been into for the last hour when Hotch walked into the cabin with Penelope.

It was morning already. There were still no signs of Reid. Prentiss, Gideon, JJ, and I had been sitting at the table, reading everything we could.

- "His computer is an extension of his brain. I need you to dissect it,"- Gideon whispered to García. You could feel the concern in his voice. She just nodded in shock and turned to Derek, who held her hand and helped her get set up in the computer room.

- "So, nothing new since I left?"- Hotch asked and looked at us. I just shook my head and continued reading.

- "Well, the good thing is the guy documented practically every second of his life"- Prentiss words took me from the pages I was reading. I looked at her and raised an eyebrow. The concept of "good" was poorly used in that phrase.

- "The bad news is, we are still un-piling,"- she added and sighed.

- "From the looks of it, he hasn't left this place in years,"- JJ managed to say. She made her best effort to be useful, but she was in worse shape than everybody else. Yet, that didn't make me feel bad for her. I was mad at her and kept making my best to put it aside, 'cos my head had to be in the case.

- "He knew he could pretend to be looking for a motel and throw us off his trail,"- Emily inferred, but I shook my head as soon as I heard her.

- "No, no, no, it's more than that!"- I shook my head and took a deep breath- "Sheriff's office, 911 calls, every time he engages the police and gets away with it... he reassures himself, God's on his side. Not ours."- I added.

Gideon nodded, and we shared a moment of agreement. He was as worried as I was. I could feel it. I'm not saying the rest of the team wasn't, I'm saying Jason was as fucked up as I was, and I could sense he was having the same trouble I had making sure my head and not my sentiments were into the case.

But if anything happened to Reid, I didn't know what I was capable of doing.

At a certain point, I got sick of reading and not doing anything and decided to look around the house again if we had missed anything. Derek went along. One part of me felt he wanted to stay away from JJ too. Maybe he was as mad as I was about her leaving Reid alone. I know I couldn't blame her, but I did it anyway.

- "Guys!! I think I've got something!"- Derek yelled, and I ran over. He opened a door that led to a basement. I walked right behind him, pointing my gun and my flashlight all over. But there was no sign of Reid.

- "Tobias Hankel!!"- Morgan shouted. Someone was sitting in what looked to be a gigantic freezer- "Tobias!"- but we didn't get any response. I took a step closer and examined carefully.

- "Morgan, I think we just found Hankel's father."

Spencer's point of view

On my second night in that cabin, I met Tobias. The third personality of Hankel walked into the room, carrying what seemed to be a dead deer. He looked as frightened as I was.

- "You need to eat."

- "What's your name?"

- "Tobias."

- "Tobias, who was here before?"

- "Probably my father."

He looked at me up and down, and he immediately understood what he had done to me. It was scary how he could dissociate. Someone with multiple personality disorder is usually unaware of the other personality states and memories when an alter is dominant. In this case, Tobias knew the other personalities but considered them different persons. He didn't think they were all in his head.

- "I'm sorry if he hurt you."

He looked at me like he understood everything I had been going through. Maybe he had been through something similar when his father was alive. Perhaps he had been a victim of Hankel as well, and that's what triggered his psychopathic nature.

He walked over and took out his belt.

- "What are you doing?"- he wrapped it around my arm, and I started begging him to stop.

- "It helps"- he took out of his pocket a needle and a small bottle of what seemed to be some kind of drug.

- "Don't tell my father. He doesn't know they are here."

- "Please, I don't want it, I don't want it, please"- I cried and begged.

- "It helps. I know"- it was the last thing Tobias said before the needle found my vein.

And he was right. It helped. Every single amount of pain I was feeling disappeared. My brain shut down. Somehow, everything was ok. I never had in my entire life felt so good before.

My mind kept flashing memories of when I was a kid. I kept seeing images of the day my father left and how he called my mother crazy.

- "You are weak"- mom spit those words after he refused to take me with him. I know she said it not because she didn't want me with her, but because mom knew she was sick and wanted the best for me. And he refused.

- "I'm not weak."- I whispered as I looked at her smiling back at me.

- "I know, honey."

I don't know how long I was drugged, but when I woke up, Tobias wasn't there with me anymore. It was his father.

And the torture continued.

(Y/N)'s point of view

Gideon was trying to convince me to go out with Prentiss and JJ to see a Narcotics anonymous's contact that might give us more information about Tobias. Emily had found some flyers about it in his room, and it could be the only lead we had to find him and Reid.

- "You need to get out of this house for a while"- he whispered and tapped on my back.

I knew he wasn't the one to be loving or physical with people, less with me. But that moved me. I turned to him and my eyes watered up. I was scared, and I couldn't hide it anymore. The more hours passed, the fewer the chances were to find Spencer safe. Alive.

I felt his arms around me suddenly, holding me tight, trying to keep the pieces of me together. We were alone on the porch, and though I didn't want to fall apart, I couldn't hold it anymore.

Jason didn't say a word. He just hugged me and let me cry for a few minutes. I didn't say anything either. I actually couldn't because I was overwhelmed with everything.

- "Are you ready, (Y/N)?"

Prentiss whispered as she walked over with JJ. I turned my back at them for a second to hide the tears that kept falling down my cheeks. I knew it was a shitty thing to do, 'cos it was obvious I had been sobbing, but they gave me the courtesy of not saying anything.

- "You go, I need (Y/N)'s assistance with some diary entries"- the two of them walked away quietly, and thankfully, didn't argue with Gideon.

- "Thank you,"- I whispered and felt his hand on my shoulder one more time.

- "You are doing a fantastic job,"- he said and turned around.

I wish I could tell you that made me feel better, but instead, I just thought I had the duty to bring my friend back home safe.

It had been at least an hour since the girls left. Morgan, Hotch, Gideon, and the police chief were in the living room with me, reading. I sipped my hundredth cup of coffee and re-read the same diary entry for the third time.

- "There's something weird going on here."- I thought out loud and walked towards Gideon

- "You think?"- the police chief turned to me and raised an eyebrow, ironically.

- "No, seriously, check this out. This journal is filled with religious ramblings. He notated hour by hour: "November 15th, 3:17, if ye offer a sacrifice of peace offering unto the Lord, ye shall offer it at your own will", and it goes on and on: 5:04, 7:41, 10:22, 1:42."

I made a short pause and looked at Gideon and Hotch. They didn't get where I was going.

- "But then, it goes blank for days."

- "Maybe he got sick of writing"- I seriously hated that police chief.

- "I think I got it"- Hotch whispered- "Journal entry: "December 6th. Father is sick. He wants me to put him down. I say thou shalt not kill. He said, honor thy father. Must pray for guidance."

- "So he kills his father as an act of mercy?"- Gideon asked, knowing the answer.

- "This is two months ago. Tobias Hankel's father had been dead for four months already."

- "That's exactly it"- I murmured, thinking Tobias Hankel was way more fucked up than we thought.

- "Look at the floor"- Derek pointed at a chair and moved it- "These scuffs marks are fresh. It's like two people were pushing the chairs constantly, trying to fight for control."

- "So?"- I swear to God, that chief was driving me insane.

- "This journal matches Charles Hankel's handwriting, but it was written after he died"- I explained. Still, it felt he wasn't following me.

- "What do you mean?"

- "Upstairs, Tobias' bedroom got junk piled from floor to ceiling, but the other bedroom could pass a military inspection."

- "So, are you telling me one of Tobias' personalities was his father?"

Apparently, I had to draw a picture so the chief would get it. Fortunately, Gideon continued explaining the whole problem before I lost what was left of my patience.

- "Well, Tobias was raised with a strict religious code, black and white, right and wrong. When his father asked Tobias to kill him, something had to give."

- "His brain couldn't handle the moral contradiction, so he split into two personalities to keep his father alive."

Hotch tried to put it most easy and simple words possible.

- "So, who is Raphael?"

- "My guess, he is a mediator between the two"- Gideon nodded at my words and sighed.

- "Angels have no human emotions, live or die. They don't care, as long it's God's will."

- "We need to start profiling Tobias' father. He may be the one who chose where to take Reid."

Finally, I felt we were going somewhere.

When Emily and JJ came back, they gave us the news. Tobias was addicted to Dilaudid, which explained the fracture in his mind, and how he lived with three distinct personalities.

The police chief announced a computer store robbery, giving us some hopes that Tobias would use them to track him down.

- "Guys!! Guys!! get in here!!- I heard Derek shouting and I ran to the computer room. I felt sick in the stomach in less than a second. There he was, Spencer. My Spencer Walter Reid, tied to a chair, bleeding, shoeless. Clearly tortured.

- "He's been beating,"- I whispered, feeling my eyes water up. I would have given anything to be there instead of him.

- "Can you track him?!"- JJ yelled by my side, and I nearly smacked her. That's how sensitive I was feeling.

- "Hankel's only streaming this to his home computer."- Garcia whispered. And my heart dropped with those words.

That wasn't what I was supposed to hear. We were supposed to find him and bring him back safe.

- "This is for us"- Gideon didn't take his eyes from the screen- "He knows we are here."

- "I'm gonna put this guy's head on a stick"- Morgan was so mad I believed him. I wanted to do the same, if worse.

- "I'm gonna kill him myself as soon as we find him,"- I said and felt Aaron's hand on my shoulder as he asked Garcia

- "Why can't you locate him?"

- "He's rerouting to a different IP address every 30 seconds. I can't track him."

It knew it had to be hard if Penelope couldn't find her, but that didn't help. If anything, it made everything worse. I felt powerless. Hankel couldn't be more intelligent than us.

Spencer's point of view

- "Are you ready, boy?"- Hankel pulled my hair and forced me to look at him. I was still as high as fuck, but knew I was about to be tortured again.

- "Ready for what?"

- "My weakling son thinks God gave you to him for a reason"- if the reason was to get me into drugs, then the answer was yes.

Hankel placed a video camera in front of me.

- "Can you really see inside men's minds?"- he asked me and made a pause, pointing to three screens- See these vermin?

It took me a second to realize he was showing me images of real people. He had put cameras in those people's houses. How? When? What kind of sick game did he want me to play with him?

- "Choose one to die. I let you choose one to live."

- "No"- I didn't even think about my answer.

- "I thought you wanted to be some kind of savior."

- "You are a sadist and a psychotic break. You won't stop killing. Your word is not true."

I don't know if it was because of the drugs or because I hadn't eaten or drank any water in too long, but I was somehow resigned and tired of fighting.

- "The other heathens are watching- Hankel announced and pointed at the camera in front of me."

My eyes fixated on the camera right away. My team was watching me. (Y/N) was watching me. I didn't want to make her worry even more. I needed her to know I was ok. I know I wasn't, but I didn't want her to worry about me.

- "Choose a sinner to die, and I'll say the name and address of the person to be saved"- Hankel was sick. It was all a game, and religion was just an excuse to kill.

- "I won't get to choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher."

Hankel didn't like my answer, 'cos he grabbed me and pulled me up, looking into my eyes, insulted, annoyed, losing his temper.

- "Can you really see into my mind, boy?"

He was honestly scary, and it petrified me to think he could execute me right there, in front of the team, and I could never tell them how much they mean.

- "Can you see I'm not a liar?!"- he insisted. I nearly whimpered but made my best not to break- "Choose one to die and save a life. Otherwise, they are all dead."

He dropped me on the chair and turned around. It was clear he wasn't joking. I took a deep breath and nodded.

- "Alright, I'll choose who lives."

- "They are all the same"

My eyes traveled across all the monitors. It was nearly impossible to pick one person to live, knowing all the other people there would die. Hankel was sick, and I had to set a plan to escape because otherwise, I would end up dead.

- "Far right screen,"- I whispered. He turned around and nodded.

Then, he recited the name and address of the woman on the screen. I prayed for the team to find her before Hankel came after her too.

No. It wasn't Hankel this time.

- "Raphael,"- I whispered, and he nodded. I looked at the screen again. The woman we were watching picked up the phone. She was in her kitchen. He walked around, frowned, and turned to her computer. In a second, she had turned it off. My team had reached her. She was safe, I hoped.

Hankel turned the camera off and looked at me.

- "You've done your part. Now it's my turn."

I knew what that meant. It wasn't good.

He left the cabin, and all I could see were the monitors in front of me. Those people were going to die. They were going to die because I didn't pick them. I killed them. You don't need to pull a trigger to kill someone. I could never forget those words. And this time, they meant more than anytime before. I didn't press a trigger, but I had killed two innocent people. And I actually had to watch them die.

When I saw Rapahel walk into the victims' house, I tried to close my eyes and think of anything else. A part of me kept thinking he wasn't going to kill them. He just wanted to threaten me.

But not. Raphael slaughtered them.

I found myself craving whatever it was that Tobias had given me the night before. The drug in my veins had given me a kind of peace I had never felt. And I never thought I'd have either. The type of peace that can be addictive, 'cos it turns your head off. And God knows, sometimes I needed to turn my head off.

Remembering everything that has ever happened to me, especially all the awful things, wasn't a gift. It was a burden. And whatever it was that Tobias had put in my veins, it had taken that burden from my shoulders, at least for a couple of hours.

Who wouldn't want some more of that peace?

- "Reid!"- Gideon's voice took me from my thoughts. He was sitting right in front of the camera in the victim's house. He was there with Hotch and the police, investigating the crime scene.

- "If you are watching this, you are not responsible for this. You understand me? he is perverting God to justify murder. You are stronger than him. He can not break you."

I know he meant it. But I couldn't believe any of that, not after watching a family get slaughter just because I didn't pick them.

(Y/N)'s point of view

- "I thought you were going to try and get some rest,"- I said as JJ walked to me in silence. I made myself my hundredth cup of coffee, and she just showed up next to me, trying to engage in conversation, I guess.

- "Everybody else is working. I should be too."

- "We can handle it,"- I whispered and refused to look at her. I swear I was trying not to hate her, but it was getting harder and harder with every hour that passed without finding Reid.

- "It's funny, I keep thinking the one thing we need to crack this case is... well... Reid"- she chuckled, nervously and I just looked at her and nodded. I didn't even smile. I didn't move a muscle.

I didn't want to be with her, or anyone, as a matter of fact. And I wasn't going to hide it anymore. So I tried to walk away.

- "You think Reid and I should have stayed together at the barn, don't you?"

I stopped walking and looked at her. You could tell she was having a hard time facing the whole situation, and most of all, you could tell she felt guilty.

That really didn't stop me from being mad at her. I was trying to be the better woman during the investigation, but the uncertainty was getting on my nerves.

- "JJ, go get some rest,"- I tried to answer calmly, but I knew I was looking at her like she was dead to me.

- "I can tell that's what you are thinking, so..."

- "I just wanna get Spencer home safe."

- "But... if I had his back like I was supposed to do, he'd be here now"- and that was enough.

- "JJ, what the fuck do you want from me?"

- "I just...."- she was about to cry, you could tell- "I want someone to tell me the truth."

- "You want the truth? Ok, there you go: I would have never left him alone. None of this would have happened if I had been the one with him out there! 'cos I would never let anyone or anything hurt him!!"

I shouted. All the anger I had been feeling those days was finally getting off my chest. And fuck, it felt good.

- "You fucked it up, JJ, and if something happens to Spencer, I am never going to forgive you, never!"

JJ bit her lips, trying her best not to cry. But I still couldn't feel sorry for her.

- "Is that the truth you were looking for?"

- "(Y/L/N)?"- Hotch stood next to me with the most annoyed look in his eyes.

I knew I was out of line, but this wasn't about work anymore. This was personal. This was Reid we were talking about, and JJ had fucked it up. There was nothing to discuss.

- "What? You sent him with her, now she is here, and he isn't. What else is there to say?"

- "(Y/N)!"- Hotch followed me as I stormed out of the kitchen and out of the cabin- "(Y/N)! stop!"

- "What?!"- and I simply snapped- "Are you gonna suspend me for telling her the truth? Are you going to fire me for losing my shit while working a case!? Fine! I don't care! I don't give a fuck! All I care about right now is that my best friend is missing, and a fucking psychopath has him! That's all I can think of. That's all I've been thinking about for the last two days!"

I was yelling at Hotch. I was yelling at my unit chief. I was fucked. I knew he was going to fire me after that. But I couldn't help it. I was going insane. Tears kept falling from my eyes as I held my cup of coffee tight, holding onto it with my life.

- "(Y/N), we are all worried about Reid."

- "I know you are all worried. I am too, and I'm also afraid and mad and going fucking insane knowing I am standing here not knowing what to do to save him."

- "That doesn't give you the right to treat JJ like this is her fault"- I don't know if he was talking like my unit chief or like a father figure trying to end a fight between two of his kids.

- "Did she stay with Reid?"- I simply replied and looked at Hotch in the eyes- "Did she?"

- "She is not the only one who feels guilty, so do I. And I know I won't forgive myself if anything happens to Reid."

Hotch made a pause and tried to find a way to say what he wanted to say. The door opened, and Gideon walked to us. He knew what was going on, and he didn't say a thing. I was sure he had already heard everything. We weren't actually arguing quietly.

- "We are not getting any closer,"- Aaron finally said.

- "Reid is brilliant. He'll figure out how to survive"- Gideon's words were way more hopeful than my thoughts. In my mind, Reid was too scared to think of a way to escape.

- "You know, I always take advantage of Reid for his brain. But I never actually teach him how to deal with things emotionally."

Hotch whispered, and his words were filled with regret. I was filled with anger and anxiety, and I know the two of them felt the same. But they way better at handling their feelings.

- "Lead by example,"- Jason answered, probably trying to make him feel better.

- "What kind of example is that?"- I simply replied, and both of them stayed in silence.

I don't think my words helped Hotch, but I wasn't trying to do that either. I was just honest. And Hotch's emotional assistance was shit on the field. Even Gideon was better.

- "He'll make it,"- Jason reassured us and nodded- "Now stop arguing and go back to work."

Spencer's point of view

I was glad when Tobias came to me that night with a needle in his hand and put the drug into my vein. I needed some release after watching a family die 'cos I didn't save them.

- "I'm sorry I had to leave"- he excused himself, preparing the drug next to me.

- "You can leave again, and you can take me with you,"- I begged in a soft voice.

- "My father would be angry,"- he replied and didn't even look at me. This time, I didn't even argue when he wrapped the belt around my arm. I was even a little eager he'd do it faster.

- "Not if he can't find us."

- "He always finds me."

- "If you tell me where we are, my friends will come, and they'll save us."

He gave me a look, mixed with horror and resignation. It broke my heart to think for a moment of all the horrors that lead Tobias to be as sick as he was.

- "We can't be saved,"- he simply replied.

- "We can, we can, I promise. If you tell me where we are, I'll save us both."

- "Listen to me. It's not worth fighting."

Somehow, I understood why he said that. I was afraid and shaking but still did my best not to think of all the pain I was in, of the terror that haunted me day and night.

- "Tell me it doesn't make it better- he said and showed me the needle."

I couldn't say no, 'cos he was right. It did. The drugs made his horrible situation bearable. I could understand why someone decided to use something to avoid the pain. I had faced all and each one of the pain and horrors in my life sober. It was time life was a little bit sweeter, in a sick way.

I remembered being twelve. Mom had had one of her episodes the day before, she was in bed, and I woke her up. I walked into her room and opened the curtains. It was already five in the afternoon, and she still refused to get out of bed.

- "The doctor says you need to get out of bed,"- I argued when she repeated she was just resting.

- "I've been reading"

- "He says you need exercise"- she sighed and tried to make a joke.

- "That's because his idea of good literature is Our bodies, ourselves."

- "Well, he is your doctor."

- "He is a neanderthal"- I gave up and started walking out of the room. She just laid in bed and looked at me.

- "Where are you going?"

- "I'm going to see if Jeff wants to play"- Jeff was our next-door neighbor and my only friend growing up.

- "Come here. Let me read to you."

I know Garcia made fun of me when I said my mother used to read me Valentine's sonnets when I was a kid. Most people think I have a weird relationship with mom, but they don't understand what it was like growing up with her. They don't know what it was like for a twelve-year-old boy to finish high school, facing bullies. Handling the pressure of being a kid genius and the fact I had to take care of a schizophrenic mother.

How come I didn't start using drugs earlier?

I remember that afternoon I sat next to my mother, and she made me pick one of the many books she had with her on the bed. I choose Proust. I knew she loved it. I loved it as well.

"For a long time, I used to go to bed early. Sometimes, when I had put out my candle, my eyes would close so quickly that I had not even time to say, "I'm going to sleep."

I can still hear her voice, reading to me. Both of us avoided reality for a while, hiding in the books. I always do it regardless. I hide in the books to forget. I hide in knowledge to avoid acknowledging the real personal issues I have. I hide in my work saving people when no one ever saved me.

I work catching psychopaths when I know I might actually have a mental issue myself. I might end up just like mom, and it frightens me so much; there are many nights I can't even close an eye. If I get sick too, then no one will take care of her. I am the only one in her life. And she is the only one in mine.

She and (Y/N), but there is no way my best friend would ever take care of me if I got sick. Not because she wouldn't want to do it, but because I would never let her. I don't want to be a burden in her life. And she would hate me, I know. And I could never live in a world where (Y/N) hates me. Not then, not now.

(Y/N). She is the best thing that happened to me in the BAU. Yes, I had a family with my team, but she was different. She was my life. She was the reason why I smiled. She was the one person that made me feel I was important to someone. I knew the rest of my friend loved me, but I loved her.

That was it. I loved (Y/N). And I was scared I was never going to see her again.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I was standing next to Penelope. She kept trying to force me to eat. She knew I was living on coffee, but I just couldn't swallow anything. She held my hand as the two of us stared at the screens, hopefully waiting for Hankel to make contact again.

- "Any more signs of Reid?"- JJ walked over to us slowly and looked at me, afraid I might snap on her again. I just shook my head and sighed, doing my best to be nice to her.

- "He just posted the last murder online."

- "It had over 17 thousand hits in the first twenty minutes,"- Penelope added, and her voice was so full of revulsion. It was clear she couldn't handle the horror in the human mind.

- "I want to see it,"- JJ said, and I frowned, confused.

- "No, you don't,"- Garcia answered and looked at me- "Come on, munchkin, just eat one cookie, please."

- "Don't tell me what I want and don't want!"- JJ's tone shocked us both. She was severe and angry. She was rude at Penelope, and for a second, I almost snapped again.

- "If I can't watch this..."- JJ whispered and glued her eyes on the screen- "I have no business being in the field."

She looked at me when she was done talking, and for once during those awful days, I felt some kind of compassion for her. She had to be feeling like shit, no doubt, and no matter how mad I was at her, she was still my friend, and I didn't want her to suffer either.

- "JJ, it's not a competition,"- I tried to say in the softest voice possible.

- "I... I need to see it."

- "If you stop being affected by things, you lose parts of yourself, you know."

It was somehow ironic that I was the one saying those things. Me of all people in that team. Me, the one who was afraid the most of losing herself in work.

- "Show me"- she finally looked at Garcia, ignoring my words, and Penelope pleased her. She pushed play and simply said

- "I won't watch this with you."

García held my hand, walking me out of the room, leaving JJ alone in the room. She sighed and wiped the tears that started falling down her eyes.

- "I don't know how you do it either"- she whispered- "I don't know how you watch those things every day and don't go insane."

- "If it makes you feel better, I don't know how I do either, and it scared me to think my heart might be numbing with each case we solve. With every psychopath we catch."

- "We are gonna find him"- she assured me and held my hands tight- "We are bringing him home safe, I swear."

- "Let's go find Gideon,"- I said, nodding at her words- "He needs to know Tobias posted the last murder."

Jason was mad, beyond furious. He was losing it. Derek and Prentiss kept trying to crack Hankel and discover where he had taken Reid. Meanwhile, Garcia, Gideon, and I made our best to take the video of the murder from the web.

- "I have a list of everyone from the file-sharing chain. I could send out a mass warning that the video is actually a virus,"- Garcia said and started typing as fast as possible. I just stared at the screen, waiting for something, anything to happen.

But I wasn't waiting for what came next.

- "Confess your sins"- Hankel's voice made me jump, and the sight of Reid, still tied to that chair, bleeding, and being tortured, broke my heart again.

- "Confess!!"- that sick psychopath shouted and hit him.

- "I haven't done anything,"- Spencer sobbed, but it was useless. Hankel kept punching him, over and over again, even when my best friend begged for mercy.

I felt Jason hold my hand as I was holding Garcia's. The three of us felt powerless, useless, angry, and scared, all at the same time. I couldn't bear to watch Reid being tortured, but at the same time, I was so glad he was still alive.

That until Hankel beat him so hard, he pushed him back in the chair, and Reid started convulsing.

- "He is killing him,"- Penelope cried, and I closed my eyes, biting my lips. Spencer was choking, and that mother fucker just stood there, watching him die.

- "That's the devil vacating your body"- he spit those words as Reid simply passed out. I didn't know if he was dead. I didn't know if he was going to make it. Shit! I didn't know anything.

I let go of Jason and Penelope and stormed out of the room. I was unprofessional, and I knew it, but I knew I would quit if anything happened to Reid. I wasn't going to stay working at the BAU if Spencer died.

- "Are you ok?"- Derek grabbed my arm. I just broke into tears and held him tight. He wrapped his arms around me and let me cry.

- "He's dying! We can't find him!!"- I sobbed against his chest.

- "(Y/N)! (Y/N)!"- I heard Penelope yelling as we all rushed back to the computer room. Hankel was giving CPR to Reid, trying to bring him back to life.

- "Come on, come on, please,"- I begged as I watched him pushing his chest over and over again until Spencer woke up, gasping for air.

- "Thank God!"- Hotch sighed and rubbed his hands against his face. The whole team let out a breath of relief simultaneously, and I kept watching Reid. His opened eyes gave me hope.

- "Wait,"- Prentiss said suddenly- "When was the video of the last murder posted?"

- "Nine thirty"- Penelope answered

- "And when was the time of death?"

- "The 911 call came in at 9:04, and the murder must have been moments later."- Hotch added and didn't even turn to look at Prentiss. We were all still shocked looking at the screen.

- "That's just a 19 minutes difference,"- I said and turned to García- "How long would it take to post that file?"

- "Two or three minutes."

- "Let's call it two,"- I said, getting excited- "You figure a maximum of 60 miles an hour in a residential area. That means Hankel has to be within a 17-mile radius of the crime scene."

For a second, I felt I was rambling facts just like Reid would. It made me miss him even more.

- "García, can we see it on the map?"- Aaron whispered. He was clearly affected, and it also made me feel selfish, knowing I had made a tantrum with the whole team, forgetting they were suffering as well.

- "Call chief Farraday"- Jason commanded as soon as we saw the map of the area on the screen- "I want that area locked down like it's martial law."

JJ stood up and grabbed her phone but didn't make the call. García warned us something was going on with Reid and all of us stared at the screen in silence.

Spencer was on his back on the floor, still tied to a chair. It was clear he wasn't fully conscious of what was happening.

- "You came back to life,"- mother fucker Hankel said, spitting the words in anger.

- "Raphael,"- Reid whispered, recognizing one of his personalities.

- "There can be only one of two reasons."

- "I was given CPR,"- my friend whispered, but it was clear that wasn't one of the psycho's options.

- "There are no accidents. How many members of our team are watching us right now?"

- "Seven."

- "The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail, and they were thrown to the earth."

- "He thinks it's the revelations"- Hotch explained- "The seven archangels versus the seven angels of death."

I didn't know much about religion, but it didn't take a genius to figure out he didn't believe we were the good guys.

- "Tell me who you serve."

- "I serve you,"- Reid answered right away. His voice was a whisper. He had to be exhausted.

- "Then choose one to die"

- "What?!"

- "Your team members, choose one to die"- I knew what he was going to answer at that, and I didn't want to hear it.

- "Kill me,"- he replied immediately, and I closed my eyes, unable to watch what would happen next.

- "You said you weren't one of them."

- "I lied."

- "Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies."

- "No"- Penelope gasped, and Prentiss cursed. I opened my eyes and nearly fainted. Hankel had a gun pointed against Reid's forehead.

The silence amongst the team was unbearable. Neither of us knew what to do. We were all panicking, praying, desperate.

- "Choose and prove you'll do God's will."

- "No."

Neither of us moved. Neither of us breathed until Hakel pulled the trigger, and no bullet came out. I nearly sigh, but it wasn't over.

- "Choose"- he repeated

- "I won't do it"- Hankel didn't even wait. He just pulled the trigger, and we all jumped at the same time. He was safe again.

- "Life is a choice."

- "No,"- Reid repeated once again. And Hankel pulled the trigger for the third time.

- "Choose"- and for the first time, Spencer made a pause. Was going to pick one of us to die?

- "I choose"- the whispered- "Aaron Hotchner."

Derek and I looked at him, and his pale face didn't move a muscle.

- "He's the classic narcissist. He thinks he's better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4 "Let him not deceive himself, and trust in emptiness, vanity falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense."

Hotch stormed out of the room as Hankel pulled the trigger one more time and shot the wall.

I felt I was going to puke. If Reid hadn't picked one of us, he would be dead.

- "For God's will,"- the mother fuck said, as he put another bullet in the gun after removing the casing.

I couldn't look anymore. I followed Gideon and Derek to find Aaron going through all Tobias's diaries on the table.

- "I'm not a narcissist,"- he said as soon as he saw us.

- "Come on. Look, you can't think anything from that"- Jason tried to calm him down, in case he was somehow affected by what Reid had just said on camera- "He is not in his right mind, Hotch."

- "No, stop, stop. Alright, everybody, right now: what's my worst quality?"

He had to be kidding. We all stared at him, muted, lost in that conversation. What was his point? Neither of us said a word. We just looked at each other, confused and awkward.

- "Ok, I'll start. I have no sense of humor."

- "You are a bully,"- JJ added.

- "You can be a drill sergeant sometimes,"- I said, and he nodded.

- "Right."

- "You don't trust women as much as men"- you could feel it in Prentiss's voice. That one was personal.

- "Ok, good. I'm all these things, but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team because I don't, ever. Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism, and he knew that I would remember that. He also quoted Genesis chapter 23, verse 4. Read it."

Hotch gave me the book. He wasn't even breathing as she spoke. He was in a hurry. We were all.

- "I'm a stranger and a sojourner with you. Give me property, forbear a place among you that I may bury my dead of my sight."

- "He wouldn't get it wrong unless it were on purpose."

- "He is in a cemetery."- I said and looked at him. He nodded, and I swear to God, I saw a slight smile on his lips. That smile was hope. We were getting closer.

Spencer's point of view

I took a sip of water. I hadn't drunk in days, and my throat burned. I was still a little lost, still a little off.

- "Tobias, is that you?"- I saw him nod, sitting next to me. He moved the cup of water closer so that I could drink some more.

- "Thank you,"- I whispered and looked at him- You saved my life- he stared down at the ground and finally whispered

- "I'm sorry."

- "Why?"

- "He'll win in the end."

It was sad to see Tobias Hankel's good person locked inside a sick mind that also held a psychopath like his father.

- "Tobias, I need to know something. It's important. Are we in a cemetery?"- and he nodded. I smiled at him and sighed, relieved. Help was coming. My team was coming.

- "I used to come here to get high."

- "I was right."

- "No one bothers you here. I never told anyone about it."

He wrapped his belt around my arm, and I turned to him, still smiling. I didn't know if I were happy I was right or glad I would get high again. Maybe both. Maybe the second 'cos the minute that needle got to my vein, that sweet, sweet release felt like a bath of joy that washed away any pain, regret, or guilt I could have ever felt.

Guilt. I've had my share of that. I remember the day I had my mom admitted to the hospital. She hadn't eaten in days. She wouldn't take care of herself, and they're just so much I could do. I wasn't able to keep her safe from herself, from her mind.

- "What are these men doing here?"- she asked me as I walked with two nurses into the study. She was writing and reading. It was all she did, preparing lectures for classes she didn't have to give, in imaginary campuses.

I stood in front of her and hesitated for a second. It was the hardest thing I had ever done, telling mom I was taking her away from her own house.

- "They are from the hospital. They are here to help,"- I whispered and looked at my mother's confused expression. She was so thin. She looked so sick. I felt so guilty I couldn't do better for her.

- "I don't need help, and you can't be here without permission, tell them, Spencer."

She looked down at her books again and tried to continue writing. I took a deep breath, I knew I would break her heart, but there was nothing else I could do.

- "I called them"- she looked at me in pain. Deep, honest pain. Like I had just shattered her heart. Which I had done.

- "Spencer"- she simply whispered and stared into my eyes, begging for an explanation. I was trying my best not to cry. I had a whole speech prepared. I was going to tell her how much I loved her. I was going to explain to her how good it was for her to be in a place where someone could continuously take care of her. I had facts and statistics, but all I managed to say was:

- "I'm doing this for you."

And I felt like a liar. 'Cos, there was a part of me that was doing it for myself too.

- "This isn't legal"- she shook her head in shock and kept trying to find a good explanation to what was going on.

- "Your son is eighteen, ma'am. He can act in your welfare,"- one of the make nurses explained to her.

- "You need help,"- I said and prayed she could understand. But she just burst into tears and begged.

- "I wanna stay here!"

- "I'm... sorry, mom."

- "Please, these are my things, this is my life..."

Those men took her. They took her from her house and put her in a hospital. No. I put her there. I put my mom in a hospital so I could live my life, 'cos I am selfish and couldn't take care of her anymore.

- "Spencer, please, don't do this to me."

Those were the words that haunted me day and night. And my mother's crying face, begging me not to take her from her own house.

What kind of a son am I? I did that to her. I put her in a mental place 'cos I couldn't deal with her disease anymore. 'Cos I didn't know how to take care of her.

- "What are you sorry for, boy?"- I heard Hankel ask when I woke up. I was muttering, "Sorry" as I came back from my trip.

- "I sent her away."

- "Who."

- "My mom. I couldn't help her."

- "Is that a confession?"- I nodded and looked around, confused. Lost. High- "You know the bible. Exodus 21:17"

- "And he that curseth his father or his mother shall surely be put to death,"- I whispered, scared and full of regret.

I heard him walk towards me. He kneeled and uncuffed me. I didn't know what was happening. Honestly, I was still too high to get what was going on around me.

- "Grab a shovel,"- he commanded and walked outside.

I was too weak to dig fast. I don't know how I was actually moving, but I was digging my own grave. I never thought I would ever end up doing such a thing. It's not something you think about, actually. Not unless you work in the BAU. Here, you start analyzing and considering the way you'll die: 'Cos you could, every day.

- "I ought to bury you alive in there, give you some time to think about what you've done,"- Hankel said and looked at me while I worked, playing with a knife.

- "I know what I've done."

- "Don't talk back to me! Dig!"

I pant and kept moving, very slowly, trying to buy myself some time too. I was sure the team was coming to get me any minute now. I was counting on them, though the more I thought about it, the less worthy of salvation I felt. Maybe I deserved to die after all.

I was almost certain I had seen some lights moving in the back. Flashlights. But it could be my mind playing tricks on me. I was too tired. And still too high, too.

- "Dig faster!"- he commanded me as I moved, losing my breath.

- "I'm not strong enough"- I cried, 'cos I felt like that. Like a failure, a child that aimed to be a grown-up and failed miserably. A bad son. The worst agent. A fake that deserved to die.

- "You are all weak!! Get out of there!"

Hankel took off his coat and left it on the ground. I slowly moved so he could dig for me, but the lights in the back took my attention, and he noticed. As soon as he turned around, I quickly grabbed his coat and reached out for the gun.

- "You've only got one bullet, son,"- he said as he looked at me. And I just pulled the trigger.

I shot him. I killed him. Hankel. Raphael. Tobias. I freed Tobias. Or at least, that is what I wanted to think.

- "Reid!!"- I heard (Y/N) yelling as I crawled to Tobia's body. He was still awake. He was himself.

- "You killed him"- he said, and he was relieved- "Do you think I'll get to see my mom again?"

- "I'm sorry,"- I whispered, and he was gone.

- "Reid!!"

(Y/N) yelled and ran over. She kneeled next to me and held me in her arms. I couldn't move, because for a few seconds, I couldn't believe she was real. She was there.

- "Honey, honey, are you ok? Can you hear me?"- she said, and tears started falling from her eyes- "Honey, it's me."

I just looked at her and hugged her. I hugged her as my life depended on it. There she was, next to me, finally.

- "I thought I was never going to see you again,"- I whispered and sobbed.

The urge to kiss her filled my whole body. I needed to taste her. I needed to show her how much I had needed her those days. But I knew I couldn't.

I didn't want to let her go. I didn't for a few minutes. I just hold onto her for my sanity. She kissed my forehead, cupping my face with both hands.

- "I'm so happy to see you. I'm glad you are ok... let's go to the ambulance, ok?"- I nodded but didn't let her go. I felt I could hold her forever. I wanted to keep her close for as long as I lived.

But the rest of the team gathered around us, and I wanted to thank them too. I needed to thank Hotch. So as soon as I let (Y/N) go, I wrapped my arms around him.

- "You alright?"- he asked me.

- "I knew you'd understand,"- I managed to say with tears falling from my eyes and a knot in my throat.

For a moment, I thought I was never going to see the team again. My family.

JJ held me close and apologized. I knew she felt guilty for leaving me alone, but I was the only one culpable for what had happened. I wanted to prove myself, and all I managed to do was prove I was a fool. A useless SSA.

- "It's alright, it wasn't your fault,"- I said and did my best to smile at her. But I know I failed. Gideon grabbed my arm and nodded.

- "Let's get you out of here."

- "Please,"- I whispered before we started walking- "Can I have a second alone?"- he looked at me and nodded, looking at Tobias' body lying by our side. He walked away, and I kneeled next to my capturer.

But instead of paying my respects, instead of cursing. Instead of anything, I took the Dilaudid bottles from his pocket and put them into mine.

And that's how the real hell started.

--

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Next update: May 5th, 2021

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