Tumgik
#i doubt anything will happen but i really want it to
literaila · 3 days
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HEYYYY!! It's me again!!
I have two things to discuss today.
Firstly, have you seen those reels where Megumi reminds Gojo of Toji and he gets freaked out? So has this ever happened in the Gojo household? If yes, how dramatic does Satoru act?
Secondly, I have a request, It would absolutely make my day to see Satoru jealous. (Yes, I know we saw a it with Nanami, but can you blame a girl to want more?) Like if the reader got hit on, I am sure he'll pull something like he did to Megumi with Nobara and Yuji.
Thank you for reading this,
You are amazing and I love you.
(I'll do anything you ask me to.)
no doubt, for the first couple of months (two years) megumi lived with satoru, every time the boy woke up in the morning with his hair deflated, or walked in the room scratching his head, or sat on the couch, or went into the bathroom—satoru had to refrain a wince.
it’s not that the likeness was uncanny… but… well, the attitude was.
when megumi had on that evil smirk—usually when one of his many plots against satoru came to fathom—it was clear that the very man satoru had erased from existence had shared some of his more… admirable qualities with the boy.
sometimes it was the way megumi spoke. the tiny little inflections that satoru was probably making up, but were also definitely there. the little sigh when he asked the boy a question or the clearing of a throat when megumi was confused.
and the eyes.
megumi’s eyes were always cold, always hesitant, always moving around, constantly looking for some problem to focus on. and his glares, and his eyebrows, and uuugch.
sometimes satoru had to run into the bathroom just to cower himself away for a moment.
and if megumi happened to knock on the door, already scowling when satoru opened it a crack, really, the gasp that came next was unavoidable.
“what’s up with you?” megumi demands, shaking his head at the older, very immature man. “can you move?”
said man would open the door as little as possible as he squeezed by, trying and failing not to stare at the little boy—who has very dark hair, dark eyes, and dark intent specifically when it comes to satoru.
none of it goes unnoticed.
so if satoru is leaning over the counter, his eyes pleading with yours, you already know what it’s about.
(you’d learned about satoru’s weird superstition about two days into becoming his co-parent).
“no,” you say immediately, going back to making both of the children’s lunch.
“i didn’t say anything.”
“still no, satoru.”
“but, please,” he falls against the counter dramatically, wide blue (alien) eyes basically perfect spheres as he widens them. “just this once?”
“it’s a supply store.”
he shakes his head intently. “that’s not the issue.”
you give him a bland look, unamused with his stupid qualms, and put the lid on a container.
“he looks freaky,” satoru whispers, conspiring. “there’s something off.”
you look over to megumi who is sitting at the table, swinging his legs and chewing on some cut up ginger.
he looks as pleasant (frowning) and sweet (irritated) as always to you.
you raise a brow at satoru, choosing not to argue with him about this. god knows you do it enough.
“do you want me to cry?” satoru asks, pouting. “i have ptsd.”
you roll your eyes. “ever heard of exposure therapy?“
so satoru takes megumi to the store to get markers and papers for a school project, giving him questionable glances from beneath his glasses, and making weird comments under his breath about psychopaths and plastic surgery.
when they get home megumi is annoyed as ever, attempting to slam the door in satoru’s face before he can walk through.
you’re, of course, sitting with tsumiki at the table and watch as this interaction happens.
megumi stomps by and tells you, “please kick him out. he’s being weird again.”
and satoru just opens the door, red faced, finger pointing at the little boy, demanding: “see?”
so, yeah. satoru suffers with the memory of toji, and his biggest ideation (hurting the six-eyes user) comes to life in the form of a little boy who now lives in his home. just two rooms down the hall.
seriously, who really won that fight?
but as the months (years) go on, satoru learns to mostly ignore the resemblance between the two. sure, when megumi wears his hair differently or says anything in that rough, angry voice satoru gets a little freaked, but so what?
(if he has to go sit in his closet for a couple of minutes it’s just because he’s tired, okay? it has nothing to do with being afraid of a six year old or anything of the sort).
still, things slowly begin to change as megumi grows accustomed to satoru’s antics, and satoru becomes accustomed to being called out for them.
(you do it occasionally, but satoru knows you’re mostly joking. you’re nothing if not the benefactor of his schemes.
on the other hand, the only other person to ever seriously call him out about his ego was… suguru.
so. there’s that.)
and eventually, satoru doesn’t even notice if megumi is looking at him with devious intent. he’s well prepared and not afraid of some whiny little kid who can’t even reach the top shelf in the fridge.
(he hides behind you, usually.)
but even satoru can’t ignore the way megumi begins to change as he grows. literally, several inches by the time he’s eight.
and then there’s the way his eyes—his cold, evil eyes—change when he’s talking to tsumiki, or you. the way he softens when you’re trying to tell him something, or when he needs help. the tiny, affectionate grin that grows on his face when tsumiki is bouncing around, so full of energy that she can’t sit still.
satoru looks at him sometimes, and he doesn’t see the gifted sorcerer killer that the boy comes from, but a brother. a son that gets to be adored by the best person in the world (him you)
that is, of course, until megumi looks satoru’s way and the scowl is back, even harsher than before.
and then theres the learned attitudes, the things that you all shared—you, satoru, and the kids—just as a result of being together for so long.
isn’t there something about developing the traits of the people closest to you?
so, even though megumi is a photo copy of his father, satoru begins to see other things in the boy.
like the crinkles by his eyes, matching tsumiki’s.
or the way that his eyebrows go up when he’s trying not to smile, and the eventual twitch of his lip when he can’t help but laugh at something. satoru’s dreamed of that sight since he was seventeen and first set his eyes on you.
and then the eventual pout that megumi develops when he’s giving everyone a hard time. the pout that satoru practices in the mirror, making sure to save for only the most dire of occasions.
(also, satoru can’t help but think of megumi as the thing that keeps him… humble, in the face of everything. that question that continuously reminds satoru to keep growing, keep getting stronger, just so he can protect everything that matters.
he won’t admit it, but satoru knows that someone had to do it. someone had to be a replacement for the only other person who could ever compare to the strongest sorcerer.
and if suguru could meet megumi, satoru thinks, sometimes, when no one else is around to hear it, they would get along.
they have a lot in common, after all).
sure, megumi might have the same face, and same smirk as toji. he might as well be a literal clone of the man, just waiting to age into his skin.
but, satoru decides, one day a couple of years in, when there’s that innate protective feeling as he observes the boy—one that satoru never thought he had, much less be able to feel—maybe it’s more that toji resembles megumi, and not the other way around.
so satoru doesn’t flinch anymore because megumi’s face brings up memories he’d prefer to keep locked away—he flinches because megumi was waiting in the shadows.
just to scare him.
(secaond idea is here)
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acourtofthought · 11 hours
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You often mention that because Lucien already lost Jesminda — someone he believed to be his mate — he won’t lose his mate again (Elain). That Sarah wouldn’t do that to him.
But have you considered that this could also be the very reason why Lucien doesn’t want or need a mate, and may not end up with Elain?
Think about it: Lucien loved Jesminda. He mourned her death for centuries. Now that it’s revealed that Jesminda isn’t actually her mate… and Elain is… do you think Lucien somehow loves Jesminda less? Or views their past relationship in a lesser manner? I doubt it.
If anything, it would prove to Lucien that in the grand scheme of things, a mating bond has little bearing on true love.
Jesminda, as per canon: had loved Lucien “without question” and “without hesitation.” Jesminda had “chosen” him.
Elain, as per canon: is only involved with Lucien because of the mating bond that neither asked for (basically a glorified arranged marriage). There is question, and there is certainly hesitation. When it came down to it in ACOSF, Elain chose Azriel, not Lucien.
Jesminda wasn’t Lucien’s mate, but loved him with all she had. Elain is Lucien’s mate… and seemingly wants nothing to do with him. Again, wouldn’t this just prove to Lucien that a mating bond really means… fuck all?
An apt comparison is to the Rowan/Lyria/Aelin saga. Although Rowan loved Lyria (and even once believed they were mates), when it came down to it, Rowan later reflected that he and Lyria were such different people, and were never that compatible in the first place.
“He'd come to love Lyria--that had been true. And the guilt of it ate him alive whenever he thought of it, but he could understand now. Why Lyria had been so frightened of him for those initial months, why it had been so damn hard to court her, even with that mating bond, its truth unknown to Lyria as well. She had been gentle, and quiet, and kind. A different sort of strength, yes, but not what he might have chosen for himself.”
Doesn’t that sound familiar…?
Instead, Rowan found his match in Aelin. From the start, even when they were arguing and bickering and cruel to one another, there was always a spark. Always passion.
In the same way Vassa and Jesminda (who we know Lucien adored) are described in the same way. Compatible. Lucien is lighter around Vassa. He found a home with her, when no one else offered him one (including Elain).
And never once was Rowan blushing around other women, or travelling to nearby continents to save other women while Aelin remained at home… as Lucien was for Vassa.
Never once was Aelin near kissing other men, or buying other men gifts while Rowan was in the same house… as Elain was for Azriel.
“A bird of flame ... and a lord of fire. I wondered if they'd found each other yet."
Why would SJM say that for it to lead to… nothing?
So what I just gathered from that is your acknowledgement that it took Rowans real mate to help him finally move past his sadness and guilt with Lyria (who he believed was his mate), and eventually fall in love with Aelin, his actual mate.
It also seems like it took Lucien meeting his real mate to start moving on from his guilt and past with Jesminda, who he thought was his mate. And could also eventually have a HEA with Elain, his actual mate.
For both males, it took their actual mate to move forward.
And yes, Rowan did separate from Aelin for a period of time. Just like Lucien is living elsewhere.
Are they the exact same scenarios? No but why would they be? Did Aelin have a sister that she was living with? Is Elain an assassin who had other business to deal with? These are different characters with different stories and Elucien is the only SJM pairing to have a bond snap like it did. Elain was the only character engaged and in love with someone else when that happened.
For the females:
Aelin did not have feelings for Rowan for quite a while as she was nursing broken feelings from her relationship with Chaol. Where she slept in bed with Rowan yet still did not develop romantic feelings for him.
Which is similar to Elain not jumping immediately into Lucien's arms after her fiance rejected her (something not even Aelin had). Giving her a pretty valid reason to instead focus on an innocent crush as she's overwhelmed by the enormity of her mating bond and has not really been in a place to process those feelings.
And no, Aelin didn't hook up with someone after meeting Rowan because they were planning for a war. She had other things on her mind at that time.
Nesta definitely did though! Even though she claims she always wanted Cassian.
Lucien's not just a Lord of Fire though is he? Why would SJM have Elain say she needs "sunshine" then reveal Lucien to be the heir to the Day Court? Weird how your argument works in my favor too! ☺️. Especially when my girl Elain is still the one he longs for after living with said Bird of Flame. If he's had a year to get to know Vassa yet Elain is still the one he wants I'm thinking Vassa just doesn't do it for him, sorry! 🤷
You're trying to say that because Lyria wasn't what Rowan would have chosen for himself the same can be said of Elain for Lucien except... It kind of seems like Elain is what he wants since he's still coming around despite her distance?
You can't honestly believe Lucien truly knew Elain the very first time he met during her depression which led to him thinking back on Jesminda..
He was remembering Jesminda when she was happy and free. And he had recently discovered Elain was in love with someone else and therefore he was struggling with the realization she probably wouldn't want him. Of course the two females seemed very different to Lucien in that moment. It doesn't mean Lucien didn't end up liking what he learned the more he learned of her.
And Rowan was a warrior which is why he was best suited to a mate who was also a fighter.
Lucien has no interest fighting (though he'll do it when he has to). Doesn't it stand it reason that a female who isn't a warrior, one with a different sort of strength, is the perfect fit for him? Exactly as his real mate is described?
Lyria was married to Rowan and he thought that of her. When Lucien and Elain are married, we can compare notes 😉.
Again, Lyria was his fake mate. Probably why Rowan wouldn't have chosen her.
Elain is Lucien's real mate.
And what Lucien wanted in his youth is not necessarily who he'd want now. Jesminda was wild and free and Lucien at the time would have given up his title for her. That doesn't really sound like the right fit for a grown Lucien who wants to help the courts and is set up to be a future High Lord with responsibilities.
And Az blushed at Mor while Elain was in the room. Are you trying to claim that all blushes equal endgame love interests? He blushed for Nesta in SF.
You might want to check out the TOG series because a male who wasn't Lorcan blushed at Elide.
Also, Lucien wasn't blushing at Vassa, he was blushing because Feyre was embarrassing him in front of his mate.
It's funny how e/riels come onto my page acting like Elain isn't special compared to Vassa, just to ship Lucien with anyone else.
She's Elain Fucking Archeron. The most beautiful female he'd ever seen. She's kind, wise, thoughtful, generous and loving (all words used in the series to describe her). AND she's his mate. It's very amusing that you think Vassa could top that for Lucien.
He's desired by many females but there's only one he wants.
You're also forgetting that it's not just because he lost Jesminda that I feel this way. The author was going to pair him with Nesta but didn't because she realized they'd be a poor fit. Why would she pair him with the other sister if she was also going to be a bad match for him?
That wouldn't make a lot of sense now, would it?
Oh! Adding an Edit:
Lucien also loved Jesminda to the point that he thought she was his mate because he had never experienced a mating bond, he was able to convince himself that what he felt was the love from a bond. Now that he knows exactly how powerful and consuming a mating bond is, how can he ever go back from that? Not only will another female never have the potential of being his mate (meaning he'll never love her to the point of thinking she could be because he knows she never will), but he will also be lacking the thread that exists between them.
He knows what a bond is now. He knows that it helps him sense Elain. That sitting with her and feeling her caused him to blush.
Once your eyes are opened up, you can't go back from that.
Knowing that Elain is his mate and understanding what a mating bond actually is means that it will be difficult for him to be without it.
I know he doesn't love Jesminda less than he once did but there will be a difference for Lucien in his first love versus his forever love, especially once he shares a bond with. It's silly to think that just because he believed something in his youth, he can easily go back to that after centuries and the new experience he's gathered with having a real mating bond with someone.
And Vassa and Jesminda are the furthest thing from similar. Jesminda was "laughter and mischief". Please show me where you've gotten hints of that from Vassa's character.
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that-basic-simp · 22 hours
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Smile
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Mizu x Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 1.1k+
A very rare moment, yet fleeting one, was seeing Mizu smile. An even more rare moment was hearing her laugh. And when she did either of them, I cherished it. I cherished those moments with her because she has not known peace in a long time and for her to be loose and at peace like that, it meant everything to me. For her to be like that in front of me, I wanted to rid of every thing that would stand in her way just to ensure she could smile and laugh on a normal basis. But with her past, it was hard to come by.
She'd have spells of nightmares where she'd remember those times of her youth and her previous relationship. To when both her husband and mother betrayed her in a sense. It took a long time for her to trust me, but I had shown her time and time again that I would never betray her. Not even after she left for London and didn't return for a very long time. I was just worried sick. And when she did return, it was a moment of relief for her and I. Now we could settle down for a bit, but it was hard for her to return to a peaceful life after living one in constant fear and blood.
Upon her night returning home to me, we celebrated well into the late night and early morning. But it wasn't the typical celebration that most would think. It was just her and I, sitting, drinking tea and her recounting the events that happened in London and beyond. How she had to adapt to not only the clothing style, but the fighting style. Like Fowler brought guns to Japan, London was more technologically advanced for the time period. So it was hard for her to fight at times. I remember the one conversation we had when she came back.
"Holding a gun is easy, being able to shoot one off is hard," she said, staring into her reflection of the tea. "A gun makes killing people a lot easier than a sword or a spear ever could."
"Is it because there's no effort into it?"
"It's like what Swordfather told me. A sword is a line between life and death. A gun takes lives easier than a sword. I have to put in the effort because I know that if I don't, I will get hurt. Or even killed."
"But you were successful."
"That I was," she said, sipping her tea.
I smiled, "I knew you had it in you."
She smirked, "What are you talking about? Are you saying you doubted me?"
"Who knows? Maybe I was," I chuckled.
That smirk turned into a smile, and before I knew it, it turned into a small chortle. My heart fluttered as she tried to hide that smile behind the cup of tea. Reaching over, I lowered it and found her smile. The smile that always made my heart soar whenever I saw it. The smile I loved seeing and whenever I do, makes me realize how much I love her. How I have fallen head over heels for her the minute I saw her take down Taigen with ease.
"Mizu," I whispered.
"Yes, Y/N?" she asked, her smile still lingering as we found one another's eyes.
It was that night when we slept together in a long time. A mess of wrapped up and entangled limbs. Just how I liked it. And in the morning, it was even better knowing that she didn't have to leave, but she still trained. She didn't have to anymore, but she still wanted to retain that talent she had with the sword. And I'd sit and watch her from the porch as she swung her sword with ease. Moving back and forth fluidly like water. Like her name.
For the most part, after she returned home, was the same thing day in and out. Wake up in the morning, eat breakfast, she'd go train, and then I'd do some things around the house. It was a routine both of us had to get used to. But spending it with Mizu made it all the more better.
"Mizu?" I asked one night while we were eating dinner together.
"Yeah?"
"What do you have planned for the future?"
She coughed slightly on her tea. Removing the cup from her mouth, she patted her chest before clearing her throat.
"I-I didn't really have any plans. T-The last time I settled down, it didn't go well."
"I know," I said.
"I just need to be prepared for anything that comes our way."
"Do you think people will come after you again?"
"I don't know," she shook her head. "But you can never be too sure."
"Do you worry about me turning you in?" I asked after some silence had passed.
"Never. I never worry about that."
I let out a sigh of relief, knowing that she can still trust me.
"Even if someone tried to get information out of me, I'd never tell them anything."
"If someone so much as touches you in a malicious way, they are losing their hand without a second thought."
Her face turned serious, almost like a scowl. I sat there, blinked a few times before my lips cracked into a smile. Soon, I started to giggle, and then that turned into full on laughter.
"Did I say something funny?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.
"No," I smiled. "It's just that, you'd go to great lengths to keep me safe."
"Why wouldn't I?"
I shrugged, still smiling. "Never really thought I'd find someone who would want to protect me."
"Y/N," she set her tea cup down and grabbed my hands. "If there was ever a reason I needed to raise my sword and take a life, you're that reason. My mission may be over. My path of revenge has finally stopped and there was so much blood on my hands. But, I put that behind me. It's over and done with. I don't even want to raise my blade to another person's neck. Unless I have to. I have a new mission now. A new path. A path of a protector. Protecting you."
A soft smile appeared on my lips as tears started to form in my eyes. She removed her hands from mine and cupped my face softly, wiping the tears away. Leaning towards me, she lightly placed her lips against mine. My eyes fluttered closed and I melted into the kiss. It only lasted a few seconds until she pulled away, pulling me into her embrace.
"I never want to lose you," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "I think I'd lose myself if I lost you."
"I'll never leave you, Mizu. And I know you'll do anything to keep me safe."
"I will do anything."
Pulling away, I reached up and placed my hand against her cheek, entranced by those blue eyes of hers. How they popped out against the firelight that flickered beside her.
"I love you, Mizu."
A very soft and gentle smile appeared on her lips. Tears formed in her eyes as she pressed her forehead against mine.
"I love you, too, Y/N."
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hobbylobbyy · 15 hours
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Okay! How about a Lucifer x male (or gn if you’re more comfortable) reader in a platonic fic? Reader is like a servant who helps Lucifer through depresso days
A/N: This sounds like a really nice friendship dynamic, I’m rlly happy I get to write it!
Also btw you’re an imp for the sake of not knowing what a duck is
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Coping Methods
Summary: It’s been a few months since Lilith left Lucifer and he’s been taking it about as well as you think he would. He can barely get out of bed until you manage to coax him into a fun activity to ease his mind.
Platonic Lucifer x Male!Reader
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Nobody expected Lilith to leave. Maybe that’s what made it worse when she did.
She didn’t leave anything behind either, not her clothes, not her shoes, not even a single letter.
Every being in that castle fell into a deep depression, it just felt so gloomy without her there. Though, it hit the Morningstar’s the hardest.
Charlie had moved out nearly a month after Lilith’s disappearance, claiming she wanted to find herself and have her own independence rather than rely on her father for the rest of her life.
Lucifer, however, barely even left the castle, let alone his own room. Very few people were allowed near him at the time, only his personal servants, and you just happened to be one of them.
Today was one of those days where Lucifer couldn’t even bring himself to get out of bed, so you found yourself outside his door, hesitating to knock.
You couldn’t deny that you were terrified, but you had to make sure the king was okay, it was your duty as one of his personal servants.
You took a moment to collect yourself before knocking a few times.
It took a moment before he answered, “Who is it..?” The way he sounded so fragile almost broke apart of you, not once in your thousands of years of working for him have you heard him sound so vulnerable.
“It’s me, sir.” You replied, twiddling with your thumbs.
The door creaked open with a blur of golden magic, no doubt his own.
You stepped in and closed the door behind you, knowing that he’d prefer if nobody saw him in this state.
“Why are you here?” He asked, not looking at you as he curled into a ball on his humongous bed.
“Nobody has seen or heard from you all day, sir,” You started, making your way over to the edge of his bed but not daring to step any closer, both out of respect for him and fear for your safety, “We needed to know that you were still alive.”
“Alright, well, you’ve seen it now, haven’t you?” He asked rhetorically, “Just leave and take the day off for all I care, I-I just want to sit here for a little bit.”
“Sir..” You started, keeping your voice firm, “As your servant, I respect all your wishes, but as your friend… I will have to deny you this one.”
Before he could respond, you continued going, “In fact, I’m going to have to request that you stand up for me” you knew you were definitely going to get in trouble for this, whether by him or by one of your superiors.
“A-Are you trying to command the king of hell?” He asked, “You are nothing but my servant, I.. I don’t have many friends right now..”
You weren’t going to stop so soon though, your persistence was what got you this job in the first place, “Sir, I’m not trying to command you, I am just asking that you at least sit up and look at me”
It took him a second but he groaned in defeat as if he was a small child. He sat up, letting you see just how much he’d been crying. His hair which was usually neat was now a mess of curls and his face seemed redder than usual.
“I’ve done what you asked.. Is this all you wanted?” He asked.
“No, I actually wanted to request that you.. Uhm…” You had to think of an excuse for what you wanted to do first, “Could you accompany me to your workshop for a moment..? This is the only time I’ll ask you to do this, I just… N-Need to know where you’d like everything to go so I can clean!”
You commended yourself for being quick to think of an excuse, you knew how much the king liked his neatness.
“…There’s no need to clean it” Well, that stunned you.
“S-Sir?” You stuttered, “It definitely needs to be cleaned, just.. please?”
“I already know where everything is, just leave it be” Lucifer waved his hand dismissively before flopping back onto his bed, gripping a nearby pillow.
Well this won’t do. You needed him to get out of his bed. You needed him to actually do something.
“Sir, please, just accompany me to the workshop and I’ll leave you alone” You pleaded.
He sat still for a moment before shifting his head towards you, “…You’ll leave me alone for the rest of the week if I accompany you, do you hear me..?”
You nodded enthusiastically, “Yes sir! I-I can totally do that!” Not only did it give you an excuse to just do nothing for the rest of the week, your plan might actually work.
“Alright, just let me get ready first” He yawned as he sat up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed.
You quickly left the room for his privacy, as much as you loved your gracious king, you didn’t love him that much.
He left the room almost immediately, not having bothered to clean up his hair or the bags under his eyes. He knew that nobody in their right mind would point it out anyway.
“Just so you know.. I’m going to leave as soon as you’re done in there” Lucifer said.
“That’s alright with me, sir,” You flash a grin, “I’m just glad you got out of that messy room of yours”
“Watch it.” He rolls his eyes.
You chuckle softly as you approach his workshop, but you’re surprised once you open its doors.
The workshop that was usually a mess with his inventions and dreams and even dioramas of his theme park was now barren, only holding the pictures on the walls and his work bench.
“Wow, would you look at that..” Lucifer started, “Guess you don’t need me anymore, I mean, no mess to clean up!”
But you’re not gonna let him off the hook so easily.
“Uh, sir?” You smirked, “Could you at least spare me one request before I stop bothering you for the week?”
Lucifer groaned childishly, obviously not wanting to spend another moment out of the bed that he once shared with his love.
“Fine, fine, I guess it’s the least I could do since you so desperately wanted me over here” He conceded, walking with you to his workbench.
“So, what do you want?” He asked.
You grinned before pulling out some supplies from your pockets, “So, you know how made that thing on Earth before you fell? What was it called… Cuck..? I-I don’t know, but it made that quacking noise”
“A duck?” Lucifer cut you off.
“Ah, precisely!” You nodded.
“What.. What does that have anything to do with this?” He asked.
“Well, Mr. Lucifer, my request is that..” You paused for dramatic effect, “You recreate that! I wanna see what it looks like, and you seem to have pride in the fact that you made them, so maybe it’ll make you feel better!”
Lucifer paused for a moment before laughing. It might’ve been aimed at you rather than with you, but you’d gotten him to laugh at least.
“A-I’m sorry- Is that really all that you want me to do? Make a duck?” He said as the laughter died down.
“Yup! That’s what I want!” You nodded, making him chuckle once more.
“Alright, alright, fine” He sighed, “I’ll make you a duck, but then you let me wallow in self-pity, mkay?”
“Sounds fair!” You responded.
He didn’t say anything back to you as he started to work. You could see sparks flying as he melded metal together, shaping it into the form of a small creature.
“Pass me my yellow paint, would you?” He asked, pointing in the direction of his paints.
You hummed, grabbing his yellow paint for him and setting it down next to him on the table.
“Oh, and the black paint too” He said.
You huffed, “Couldn’t have told me that while I was getting the yellow?” But you got it for him regardless, wrapping your tail around it and ignoring the cold paint as it splashed on you when you brought it over.
He didn’t respond, too focused on painting it perfectly.
Then, the sparks and painting stopped, he smiled softly at his little creation.
“Here it is,” He said, picking it up with gentle hands, “This is what a duck looks like”
You looked at it in awe. It looked so.. cute. It looked so different from all the life in Hell, like it didn’t pose any threats at all.
You took a moment before nodding, “Alright, that’s uh… All I wanted” you smiled before standing up.
“I’ll lead you back to your room and you won’t have to worry about me for the rest of the week” You continued to speak before he cut you off.
“Actually…” He said, “Stay, I think I might need your help grabbing supplies for me while I make some more of these”
You took a moment to process what he said before your eyes lit up with excitement, “Really?!” You had actually been successful in getting the king to enjoy something!
“Really” He chuckled.
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A/N: I hope this lived up to your expectations. I noticed too late that the reader doesn’t really have a gender specified but I guess that just means you can depict them however you want to!
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Look at him :)
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elsa-fogen · 24 hours
Note
heh okay
what are your opinions on
*intense thinking*
alastor x lucifer
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oh damn here we go
i don't ship it
And i'd say more.
I HATE THIS FUCKING THING
Just. No. Just something inside me sees them and goes "this should not exist". And the fact that this thing is FUCKING EVERYWHERE doesn't make it better. WHAT IS WORSE THAT I JUST CAN'T BLOCK THE TAG! Sometimes people put this tag on something that doesn't look like a ship at all and i can bare with it, or doesn't even related to it, people just put it in tags for attention. PLEASE DON'T FUCKING DO THAT. I'm so tired of seeing this, seriously. Also, not long ago i saw posts about them as QPR and i thought, HEY, this can be fine! But NO! Even as QPR i CAN'T stand it. It just makes me so fucking uncomfortable.
Nothing. I'm sorry but there's no fucking chance i would ship them. Never. I hate it.
I can't say anything positive about them as romantic or even QPR couple, so the only thing i can see them as is... friends?? Not the word i would use but i don't know what else to call it. Like. They can't stand each other, but they pretend that they're chill for Charlie. Or thing i really want to see: them having to work together and groving mutual respect for each other. Also I think it would be interesting to see them as actual firends or drinking buddies, i saw few things about it and it was fun. I can't imagine it myself but i would really love to see it, but i doubt it will happen in canon.
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nalyra-dreaming · 21 hours
Note
Hi,I hope we are not too annoyed with all our questions.
I'm new to the fandom,and after watching the show I really thought that Loustat would be the popular ship.I know most people are multi-shipper here,but it's funny how Louis and Lestat are not popular together. It seems like you've been here longer than many of us (books and Tv show)from you observations do you see major differences between fans favorite in the show and the books?
Also,have you changed your opinion on a character because of the show?
Not really to the latter.
I think the show cast the characters perfectly, so they fit for me. :) I like this Louis more, if anything. They enhanced him (though they did enhance them all, imho).
We lucked out so badly.
As per Loustat... *sighs*
You have to understand that Lestat is seen by many as the big bad abuser ™, and nothing else. No matter how often cast, crew, writers and creators have said that we have seen only half the story, no matter how often errors in the tale have been pointed out, no matter how often I have dug out the episode insider with Rolin pointing out the "tinkering" even then... anyone who doubted Louis' tale in any kind of fashion was met with accusations of racism and slurs.
I'm not kidding. I wish I was. I still have comments on my fics that I left there, on purpose. I have the asks here. There are people who call themselves my "number one hate blog".
I don't want to rehash all that now.
But imagine trying to write coming from the books, knowing what will happen, seeing the "seeds" in the show (as Assad called it), reading the interviews, knowing the tale will shift... and being met with something like that.
And now imagine not having the book background, and being harassed on anon, or with comments. And not having the background to defend your ship.
And I don't even mean actual criticism here, if valid or not.
No, I mean harassment. Accusations, death threats. Comparisons to the KKK. Whole campaigns against me, and others. Not kidding. I put my rants into my bio if you're interested, lol.
This is the fandom where I started blocking in earnest, and I come from friggin' Hannibal.
A tale like this, with racial changes in a color-conscious way (which actually brought the difficult topics into play (and I love them for it!)), left hanging for 18 months... that didn't do the fandom any good.
And some of the comments in the podcast didn't do it any good either with the expectations it raised, and which will be now... well. Not wholly disappointed, but... some took that as gospel. When it's not. It will be a bit messy soon, and with what's to come wrt to Claudia, too.
Soooo... that is why Loustat isn't particularly popular right now.
That will change though.
Rolin, as well as Sam and Jacob keep repeating that this show is built around Loustat.
Loustat are at the heart. They are the heart.
The books start and end with them.
The show foreshadows their dance at the end.
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I for one am continuing to write for them, even if I have currently hit a wall on my current fic, but I was mightily distracted by all the new content^^ (like everyone else I think^^).
I love that they are so complicated, and messy, and petty, and so, so IN LOVE.
Jacob called it that, too. "Petty and in love".
And they are.
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PS: And no worries re asks :) I love talking to you guys^^
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myscenic · 18 hours
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Pairing: boyfriend!jeno x 8thmember!male!reader, (slight) mark x haechan
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1.1k+
Synopsis: the dreamies were hungry after a fun day of 7llin’ with dream and decide to make dinner together at the house. jaemin volunteers to cook while the others prepare ingredients and run errands.
at the market, jeno gets a cute call from his boyfriend y/n. laughter and playful teasing ensues between chenle and the lovebirds. back at the house, jeno, chenle and mark suddenly realize they forgot an ingredient.
౨ৎ Note: my first ever request is finished!! I had to rewatch the show to get some inspirations, cuz I literally almost forgot what happened in it lmao. since it's my first request, i was feeling really nervous while writing this, but i still hope u enjoy it<3
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it was nighttime, the dreamies were feeling hungry after doing lots of activities in the afternoon, so they decided to have a homemade dinner together at the house. jaemin volunteered to be in charge of cooking while the others helped prepare ingredients.
jaemin assessed his ingredients with a critical eye, realizing several key items were missing. he turned to the group helpers in the kitchen.
"it seems we're short on some staples to start the main dishes," jaemin announced.
jeno looked up from washing vegetables. "i can run to the supermarket to grab what we need."
chenle perked up at the thought of an outing. "ooh, let me come too!"
mark sighed fondly. "i'll come too so you two don't cause too much chaos."
"we'll make it quick," mark assured.
the trio and headed out with an air of excitement and playfulness. while jeno and y/n looked forward to some couple time, they doubted their ability to remain focused on the task. only time would tell if they returned successfully with groceries, or in a lovesick daze once more.
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jeno was browsing the meat aisle with mark and chenle when his phone started ringing. he smiled when he saw it was y/n calling.
"you gonna answer that?" chenle asked with a teasing lilt.
jeno playfully rolled his eyes at chenle before answering. "hey babe, what's up?"
"hi jen! i was just wondering, can you pick up some strawberries covered in chocolate while you're at the supermarket?" y/n's sweet voice came through the phone.
jeno couldn't help but grin like an idiot. "of course, do you want anything else~"
y/n giggled, making jeno's heart melt. "you're the best! only the strawberries is good. i can't wait to see you when you get back."
as jeno and y/n continued chatting fondly, chenle started making loud fake throwing up noises behind them. jeno tried to ignore him, but y/n must have heard through the phone.
"is chenle being disgusted again?" y/n asked, giggling more.
jeno gave chenle a side eye. "when isn't he?"
chenle stuck his tongue out in response, but kept making theatrically exaggerated gagging sounds. jeno flipped him off jokingly, unable to stop smiling as he spoke to his boyfriend.
mark chuckled at their antics, shaking his head affectionately. "don't mind him, just focus on your man."
jeno felt his cheeks warm at mark's words, but he was grateful for his hyung's support. "i'll see you soon, babe. love you!"
once jeno hung up, chenle started wheezing with laughter at his own jokes. even jeno had to laugh, chenle's silliness was honestly amusing, not truly mean-spirited.
"alright guys, let's finish up so we can get back to the others," mark said, looping his arms around chenle and jeno's necks affectionately as they continued shopping.
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once the three members arrived back to the house from the supermarket, carrying bags of groceries. jaemin hurried over to check what they had bought. he started unpacking the bags and going through the list.
"hmm it seems we are missing one item," jaemin said angrily with a frown. "the green onions."
jeno and chenle quickly turned to blame mark. "it was mark hyung's job to get the green onions but he must have forgotten!" chenle said.
"yeah hyung you had one job!" jeno laughed teasingly.
mark looked shocked. "what? no i didn't, you guys said you would get the veggies!"
as the three started bickering playfully, jaemin observed them with a bemused smile. finally he clasped his hands together loudly. "alright enough you three. it doesn't really matter who forgot, it’s fine anyway. let's just get the food prepped."
with a sigh, mark went to the fridge to start taking out other ingredients they needed. but when he opened it, a bundle of green onions rolled out onto the floor.
the boys froze, then bursts of laughter erupted as they realized there was a spare bunch all along. "there we go," jaemin chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. it was just like them to band together and try tricking each other.
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before long, the others had finished prepping ingredients and jaemin got to work cooking everything on the stovetop. a delicious aroma began permeating the air as pots simmered. y/n set the table while jeno poured drinks for everyone.
soon dinner was ready and they all crowded around, filling their plates high. compliments rained down on jaemin for his cooking skills as they dug in happily. y/n grinned at jeno across the table, sneaking bites of strawberries between mouthfuls of rice and meat.
they chatted casually about everything from upcoming schedules to funny memories, the atmosphere light and cozy. more than once, y/n caught jeno's foot rubbing affectionately against his ankle under the table when their gazes met. each gentle touch sent sparks through his body and never failed to bring a smile to his lips.
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as they finished eating, jeno and y/n volunteered to do dishes while the others lounged around relaxing. they worked efficiently side by side at the sink, hips occasionally bumping as they maneuvered in the small space.
after a few minutes, mark loudly cleared his throat. "do you two seriously need to be joined at the hip right now too?" he nodded pointedly at their intertwined fingers resting on the countertop.
y/n glanced down, not even remembering when their hands had found each other. he blushed, starting to unlink them, but jeno held on firmly.
"says the one who begged to sleep with haechan last night." chenle chuckled, not looking up from his phone.
mark opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by renjun. "you guys, play nice. as long as our lovebirds keep things pg, i don't mind some affection around here." his eyes danced playfully.
"yeah, keep it pg, don't forget that our maknae is still here." jaemin joked as he looked to jisung. he just smiled sheepishly.
y/n grinned, relieved for renjun's understanding as always. jeno rubbed his thumb softly over y/n's knuckles, shooting him a loving smile that made his heart skip. their kitchen duties were finished in contented silence, hands locked together the whole way through.
once the last dish was dried and put away, jeno led y/n by the hand to the couch, cuddling him into his side. mark shook his head disapprovingly but y/n could see the smile he was trying to hide.
he sighed happily into jeno's warm embrace, feeling his boyfriend press a kiss to the top of his head. no matter how much teasing they received, nothing could dampen the elation and security y/n felt in jeno's arms — his most cherished place in the world. he was grateful beyond words for each and every day they had together like this.
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wonder2realities · 21 hours
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having trouble with manifesting physical results?
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when it comes to manifestation, i feel like everyone acts like theres a limit and usually that limit revolves around physical changes. "you cant lose weight unless you work out AND listen to subliminals, you have to put in the work!!!" — what if i were to tell you that you can manifest literally any physical change without even moving? you probably wouldnt believe me because of the idea that you need to "work" to earn something...and yet with all of the physical changes i've manifested, i havent "worked" for anything. how? here's a little list of the rules i stick by !
1. SHAMELESSNESS IS KEY!
i'm someone who gets embarrassed very easily, over the smallest things but when it comes to manifesting anything...you gotta be shameless. yes i am waking up with a BBL and a 2-inch waist, what about it. you can pull up to my house, with scientific evidence of how thats not possible but idc cuz its happening. infact, it ALREADY happened "but you look the same" idc it still happened. like literally, no matter what its happening and its happened and it will happen ; whether it be past future or present point is ITS THERE.
2. YOU ARE ENERGY, NOT YOUR BODY
this ones a bit hard to word out but essentially, your physical body doesnt make up what you are. meaning, you can view yourself as this ball of energy that can be stretched and pulled out and morphed into everything and anything.
so lets say you want a symmetrical face :
1. dont go overanalysing your face, just sit down & take it easy
2. think of how your symmetrical face that youve always had. i mean you could honestly be a model, your facial structure is amazing. and just allow yourself to sink into those thoughts, whether its through you repeating affirmations or through subliminals — let it all sink in that your face is symmetrical. having doubtful thoughts? let them fly past, dont cling onto them. just allow yourself to sink deeper into the fact that your face is perfectly symmetrical.
3. acknowledge it and live with it. dont go eyeing your mirror and reflection every 2 seconds, dont go panicking and repeating affirmations nonstop and stressing...just acknowledge it and go on with your day.
^ its that easy. you dont need to even see your physical body morphing into it, the point is that you are able to morph and change into whatever you wish because you are not limited to your physical body.
3. NO OVERCOMPLICATIONS
you dont need to do a 40 minute workout to make sure you get results, you dont need to drink 3L of water, you dont need to write down 500 affirmations, you dont need to do a 20step skincare routine if you want to make sure you get clear skin...if you want to do these things, do them as much as you wish to. do you have to? no.
when i was younger, i got a bad injury and because of that one of my cheekbones were larger than the other — through manifestation they look identical now. like as in, if i were to tell you the injury i got into and said "my cheekbone was larger and there was a huge line under it" youd think i was making it up (sidenote : i had to show someone my passport photo from when i was like 8 to prove that i had that injury 😭 CUZ THEY DIDNT BELIEVE ME.) and mind you, i didnt even have a routine - my routine was literally just playing cute subliminals , vibing to the music and then going to sleep. i promise you, you dont need to do any form of "work" to get what you desire.
4. GO WITH YOUR GUT
probably the most important thing i stick by, i always go with my gut. meaning, if i feel like i can listen to a 5 second subliminal and i got it - i leave it there. i dont force anything, i dont push myself into anything and i dont do anything that someone else does if it doesnt vibe well with me. (this also means if youre reading this and going "this doesnt really work with me" - thatll be better than you forcing yourself to follow these rules just because these have worked for me). you need to always remember that when it comes to manifesting things, your preference comes first. so, if you wanna run 5 miles and that helps you believe that you have gotten your desires - do it.
5. DONT LET OTHERS GET TO YOU
if youre minding your business and youre talking abt your desires and someone goes "erm...🤓👆🏽 thats...not possible" - instead of secondguessing yourself literally ignore them. the concept of whats possible and whats real all boils down to what you BELIEVE is possible/real. the only reason something could not be possible or not be real is you believe it isnt, or you letting someone else who doesnt believe in it take over your beliefs (obviously this specifically applies to manifestation and not things that are tied to disorders or any form of unhealthy thinking. dont take my words out of this context.)
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and thats all ! obviously i have other parts of my mindset that arent mentioned here that help me manifest faster and easier but it would take too long for me to get into everything </3 but consider these my 5 golden rules that will hopefully help anyone whos struggling with physical results.
rmbr that you are forever limitless & changing ★
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bubble-tea-blossom · 3 days
Text
The Soldier and the Smuggler
5. The Gate
Joel Miller / f!reader, 6.5 k, 18+ only
Warnings: talk of attempted SA, violence specifically to a man's wiener he deserves it tho
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You’re stood outside the door to your apartment. Your hands are shaking too much for you to put the key in the lock. You don’t know how long you stand there, key in hand, staring at the metal 210 above the knocker.
You give up and knock three times. It takes a few minutes for the door to open, a confused call of your name behind the door from your aunt who’s not really your aunt.
She opens the door, slippers on her feet, voice groggy, “What’re you doing?”
You have to swallow your dry throat to be able to speak, “Hey May, sorry to wake you, the key kept getting stuck.”
You walk into the apartment, slipping your jacket off your shoulders. You hear May shut the door behind you and lock it again, pulling the deadbolt.
“The hell you doing out this time of night?” She asks.
You’ve practiced your lie on the way home, too bad your voice shakes anyways, “Got called out after you went to bed. But I get the next two days off.”
You drape your jacket across the kitchen chair as you pass, going for the water jug on the counter. You go to drink a glass and find your hands are still shaking enough to make the water tremble.
You hear on repeat in your head, don’t think about it, don’t think about it.
You swear Aunt May is a psychic or something, she is uncomfortably talented at reading your mind. And you really don’t want to worry her. The truth will only worry her.
You also just don’t want to think about it. You don’t want to think about your wrists being pinned down. About the hand with a fistful of your hair slamming your head against the table. About-
Stop.
You’re fine. You tell yourself. Nothing actually happened. Those men are dead now.
A shiver wracks its way down your spine.
You see May approach you from the side like a trapped animal. You can’t bring yourself to look at her. If you look at her, she’ll know. And just the thought of it roils in your gut with shame.
She reaches your side, with a whisper of your name she places a gentle hand on your wrist. Right where you’re covered in bruises beginning to bloom in the shape of handprints.
This is where you breakdown. Immediately May wraps you in a fierce hug, making soothing sounds as you cry.
“I’m sorry,” you sob into her shoulder.
She just gently shushes you. Eventually she leads you to your bed that’s placed on the floor of what’s supposed to be the dining area. The apartment is only a one bedroom, but you wanted your only family left as close as possible. You took the floor, she had the bedroom. It was worth it.
“You need to let it out, hunny. It will help with the process.” She promises, stroking your hair with all the love of a mother.
You feel your heart wrench. Even now, you don’t want to disappoint her. If she finds out this was because of you trying to find her insulin, she’ll be crushed.
You have to start you sentence about five times before you’re able to actually speak.
“I heard from Sammy about this guy who had insulin,” you start. You keep your eyes on the floor but can feel Aunt May’s reaction besides you. Her body stiffening as she probably puts together what’s happened. She doesn’t say anything, just lets you continue.
“I set up a trade,” May brushes your hair behind your ear, revealing your bruised cheekbone, “It didn’t go well,” you finish, your voice barely audible even to you.
May takes a deep breath. “Did he assault you?” She asks with a clinical quality to her voice. Before her vision started going, May worked as an ER nurse for decades. You doubt this is the first conversation like this she’s had.
You shake your head slowly. “Someone stopped them before…” you slam your eyelids shut, trying to keep the images out of your head. You’re not strong enough, you can’t finish the sentence.
May’s silence somehow tells you she understands.
Eventually, after many minutes spent in silence with her gently stroking your hair, she speaks again, “Do you know who it was? That helped you?”
No. You shake your head. You remember Randy spitting out the name ‘Miller,’ but you don’t have the energy to tell her. It doesn’t matter anyways.
May’s arm around you squeezes you further into her embrace. You don’t want to think about tonight. Not now, not ever. It’s how you’ve survived each tragedy that comes and shakes your entire world, one loss after another.  
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.
And yet…the stranger’s form will be burned into your mind forever. The shadow that came to your side, that killed for you without hesitation. Hands that held you gently if briefly. The voice in the dark comforting you with an awkward earnesty. Telling you were safe now.
Another shiver runs over your body. You couldn’t feel less safe.
It’s over. You tell yourself again. The way through, is never looking back.
You wish him well, whoever he is, but for your sake, you hope you never see him again.
… Five years later…
You run for your life in the dark. The only light is held in the hands of the smuggler running besides you, the halo of light shaking up and down as it illuminates the path a few feet ahead.
“Don’t you smugglers have multiple exits everywhere?” You shout over the cries of the infected giving chase a couple dozen feet behind. You can’t count on your fingers how many times you would chase someone through a building complex only for them to turn a corner and just vanish. It was as infuriating as it was impressive.
The smuggler doesn’t respond. From what you can see of his face, he looks the most worried you’ve seen yet. Eyes wide, mouth pulled in a tight line. That is not comforting. You’ve seen him stare down large, aggressive men with guns like he’s bored.
You know all too well the special type of terror infected will inflict on you. You have low expectations for your life expectancy, you just never wanted it to end with a fungus conquering your body and mind, turning you into a slave with the sole goal to spread the infection.
The smuggler screeches to a halt, shinning the light on two possible tunnels.
“Shit,” he breathes, shinning his light on the next two tunnels that diverge. “There’s supposed to be three, take the middle,” he pants, panic creeping into his voice. You feel your skin crawl listening to the infected draw closer and closer. You can’t stand here waiting for them like a deer in headlights.
You fist the back of his shirt, fabric damp with sweat, and push him forward.
“Leap of faith,” you pray, guiding him to the tunnel on the right. Your choice is purely a roll of the dice. You feel the smuggler give in, accepting your control for the moment.
You run, and run, so long that you feel exhaustion start to creep into your legs, into your lungs. You’re not sure how much longer you can run like this. Anytime it seems like you might have lost the pack, a few seconds later you can hear them again. They’re relentless, the fungus driving them harder than is possible for you or the smuggler to keep up with.
You almost pass it, the beam of salvation, mistaking it for a dead end at first. But then you stop and look again, at the ladder leading straight up to a manhole in the ceiling.
“Smuggler!” You yell, hearing the infected react to your echoing voice. You feel more than see the smuggler do a one-eighty turn behind you, before he’s brushing past you. He doesn’t even look at you, too busy launching himself up three rungs at a time.
“Right, ladies first or whatever,” you snipe, mostly to yourself while you watch him climb while you’re grounded like a baby bird. The rusted metal creaks under his weight in a way that makes you cringe.
At the top, the smuggler starts pushing against the manhole cover. You watch with despair as it remains shut. He pushes again, teeth bared in a snarl from effort, and you see a thin rim of light being exposed, the sound of something heavy grating above accompanies every little shift the smuggler manages. There must be something covering the hole on the outside.
It doesn’t matter, you’re out of time. The smuggler knows this too because he keeps pushing, his groan of effort is the loudest you’ve heard him be. You whip your head around when the screams of the infected sound like they’re literally on top of you. You can’t stay immobile and wait for death to come screaming for you.
You step onto the first rung and feel it almost immediately give way under your added weight. This only adds to the challenge of scaling a ladder with your hands tied, but adrenaline demands you keep moving, and so you hop up to the second rung and begin your climb there.
Unfortunately, you don’t have very far to go, stuck only halfway up with the smuggler still battling with the cover. You feel a little glimmer of hope when with a herculean effort he gets it halfway open. Good thing too because the infected are here, you don’t need to look down to know they’re swarming the bottom of the ladder. In fact, you feel a sharp tug on your boot, and with shot nerves, you leap up another rung to try and get away.
This move almost damns the both of you, when the added weight of the infected combined with your jolting proves to be too much for the rusted bolts keeping the ladder up on the wall. About half of them finally pop loose, and the whole ladder swings away from the wall, with only one side of it remaining bolted secure. The infected that was at your heel falls to the ground as the ladder sways, and the smuggler has to let the cover slam shut again in order to hang on.
This is when you look down, not on purpose, more on instinct.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you curse. The fungus covered bodies on the ground are just a swirling mass of teeth and limbs, a thing of nightmares. When one starts trying to climb back up to you, you feel the ladder shudder again. It won’t be much more than a few seconds before the whole thing comes off the wall and you fall right into the pit of infected.
With a well placed kick right to the infected’s forehead, you send it crashing back down, swallowed by the swirling mass of bodies.
You hear the smuggler continue to struggle with the cover above you. And then there’s almost a pop in the atmosphere as fresh air floods in and the little light the stars and moon give, grace you. You look up at see the smuggler already pulling himself up and out.
You don’t wait. The smuggler’s urges of “Move, move!” are redundant.
The ladder really doesn’t like all this movement. You’re almost at the top. The smuggler is right at the edge, a hand stuck down for you to grab.
You can feel the fresh air, but you can also feel the frantic thrashing of multiple infected climbing over top of each other right below your heel. You feel the ladder give one last shudder, and you know that is it’s last.
You brace your muscles and take a leap of faith. Still two rungs short from the top, the impact of your jump is the final straw for this camel, and the ladder pops enough bolts to start falling.
Your outstretched arms are grabbed by the smuggler, his grip like iron. Hard enough to hurt but you wouldn’t want anything less.
With his help, you start shimmying your belly up onto the edge of solid ground. And then you feel yourself being pulled back into the pit, so suddenly that the smuggler’s grip starts to slip.
You don’t have to look to know an infected is hanging off your foot, and no amount of kicking is getting rid of it. Then the fucker bites you. Hard enough that you feel the pressure of teeth through the tough leather of your military grade boot.
The smuggler starts pulling you up again, but with the added weight, the angle is all wrong.
“Fuckers got my foot,” you try to sound angry, but it comes out as more of a wheeze.
He reaches down and grabs a fistful of the belt snapped around your hips and tries pulling you up from there with a little more success.
It doesn’t matter, your brain whispers to you, you’re dead anyways.
Then I’m not dying down there, you answer yourself. With a bellow of absolute fury, you stomp so hard on the infected biting you, you hear a sickening crack, and after a heartbeat, the weight drops away.
The smuggler has a much easier time pulling you the rest of the way, one hand still on your belt, he drags you a few feet along the rough asphalt. Once you’re not at risk of falling back in, he releases you.
You hear him replace the manhole cover and the screams become blissfully muffled. You look over and see the shape of a giant piece of concrete with rebars sticking out of its side right next to the hole.
If that was what was covering the hole, and was what the smuggler shoved away, then you’d been underestimating him. Which as impressive as it is, does little to make you feel better. You can see the paths of escape narrow even more.
You let your eyes adjust to the different lighting; still dark but now you can actually see the buildings around and the street you’re sitting in the middle of. Next you start unlacing your boot. Even in the dark, you can see the teeth marks in the leather.
You need to know. With trembling hands, you rip the shoe off, and next your sock. The smuggler sees what’re you doing, and crouches down beside you, shinning his light on your foot.
You scan every inch, running your fingers over to try and feel any break in the skin. After a few heart pounding minutes, there’s nothing. You’ll need a new boot at some point, but that’s it.
Finally, you look at the smuggler who flicks his eyes to meet yours. His expression is carefully neutral, as if he didn’t care either way, but is glad you aren’t bit so he can still get his payment.
That pisses you off. His indifference, but mostly because you can see through the veil the indifference is holding up. Or at least, you think you can. There’s a real person behind the mask, and that only means it hurts worse.
You have to look away, feeling every emotion you’ve been stuffing down for the last two days bubble up your throat.
Fuck.
And you start to cry.
It’s less of crying and more of your emotions leaking through the cracks of your own mask. You put your face in your hands and try and get your shit together, your jaw clenched so hard you hear your teeth groan. The tears that run are slow and are wiped away before they can fall.
It takes longer than you will admit. You sit there, every muscle as tense as iron as you feel the panic try so desperately to tip your boat, and sweep you under the dark wave.
 During your silent breakdown, the smuggler just sits down with a groan a few feet away to catch his breath. And he waits.
He doesn’t grab you, or prod you with his gun, demanding that you get up. He just catches his breath and looks at the stars.
Eventually, the worst of the emotional storm passes, willed away. You look up from your hands. He passes you his water canteen, his face as impassive as ever. You take a few sips, watching him. Embarrassment knocks on your door, but your exhaustion won’t let it in. You’re mostly just, confused.
“You’re weird,” is all you can come up with, your voice hoarse. The smuggler just grunts.
You turn your gaze to the moon, just barely visible between the buildings. The same moon that you’ve been looking skyward at your whole life, graces your sight.
In your vulnerable state, you feel a memory creep up behind you like a monster in the dark.
This moment, you sitting in the dark, with the stranger sitting with you; at a respectable distance, silent as he waits for you to get your shit together. It brings up memories. Ones you’ve done your best to not think about.
“We should get going,” says the smugger as he stands, snapping you mercifully from the rabbit hole you were on the precipice of. “We’re too exposed.”
You answer by pulling your sock and boot back on, before pulling yourself off the ground. The smuggler directs you with a turn of his head. You follow.
The smuggler keeps you two along the shadows of the buildings, but so far, the streets are deserted. You know if you were to try another escape attempt, here in the maze of the dark city would be the place.
Then the smuggler clears his throat, turning his head slightly so he can look at you. And speaks in barely above a whisper.
“Thanks.”
When all you do is stare back with your eyebrows shot to the moon, you watch with mild amusement the inner turmoil he goes through as he forces himself to continue.
“For back there,” he clears his throat again, “that first Stalker would have taken me from behind,” he makes a vague gesture with one hand against his throat to get his point across.
You need a moment to absorb this. He just thanked you. You’re pretty sure kidnapping 101 is don’t do that.
You feel a jolt. Unless this is some kind of weird psychology mind game. Except for the way awkwardness burns off of the smuggler after his admission. He certainly doesn’t seem the psychological warfare type.
“How bout you thank me by taking these off?” You thrust your bound hands up at him, meeting his scowl.
You’d fully expected him to ignore you, like the times before. You honestly said it more as a joke to needle him with. He surprises you again by stopping, making you stop so you don’t run into him. He looks at you very hard while you stand there, wondering what’s going on.
He heaves a deep sigh that seems to come from his soul, and reaches a hand behind him. He pulls out your knife, and with your own knife, cuts your bonds.
You’re shocked to silence. Watching him with wide eyes, you feel the tug on the rope as he saws it with your knife like he was sawing through your own flesh.
And then with a final snap, the braid is broken, and the rope hangs loosely on your wrists. The smuggler plucks it off and shoves it in his backpack.
Your wrists throb from the sudden freedom, the skin raw as the air embraces it once again. Your heart wants to cry with joy, but these days you are suspicious of happiness.
The confusion and mistrust you feel is too strong for you to hide.
The smuggler must pick up on this, because he follows up the act of generosity with a warning, “Try anything and I’ll tie you up again, tighter.”
Well, at least this is familiar ground.
With further ado, he keeps walking, not even looking back to make sure you follow.
The words come out your mouth before you can think if it’s a good idea or not, “You say that to all the pretty girls?”
The smuggler scoffs but doesn’t answer.
---
The smuggler leads you in a somewhat zigzag pattern through the streets. He seems to be aiming for a specific entrance for the QZ rather than going right through the front gate because he occasionally back tracks when he brings you onto the wrong street.
With the night sky still lingering, he has to be practically under the street signs to read them, which makes for a lot of extra paces. He wisely doesn’t ask you to read them.
And then around the corner of the last street and you can see the QZ wall, and the outline of a chain link gate tucked away on the Eastern wall. The sight of the concrete and tar barrier looming ahead brings only more dread.
Something in your head tells you to run now, before the gate. That you stand a better chance alone in the infected filled city weaponless. Logic would tell you otherwise, surrounded by FEDRA is where you’re safest.
Not anymore, whispers a part of you.
As you approach the gate, a man dressed in the blues of FEDRA sits behind the bars. He’s picking his nails with his knife. His FEDRA cap is perched on his knee, revealing what hair he has is thin and patchy.
He’s either half-blind or just stupid, because the smuggler gets you well within firing range, and he’s none the wiser.
Behind a faded green electrical box, the smuggler crouches down and pulls you besides him. He keeps his face close, his gaze boring straight through your pupil down into your soul.
You find yourself a little distracted while he practically breathes his warning.
“You. Keep. Silent.” Three distinct words and you understand him perfectly. You’re guessing he’s going to talk or bribe his way through the gate.
Unfortunately for him, when you speak isn’t up to him. He’s taking you right into FEDRA territory, he must know this is risky.
Unfortunately for you, you start to get a good idea why the smuggler chose this gate, at this hour.
FEDRA has no shortage of dirty soldiers.
The smuggler waits until you nod. His look tells you he doesn’t really believe you. Good, he shouldn’t. If he’s smart, he knows you’d push him off a cliff without a moment’s hesitation if it meant your survival.
When you approach the gate again, it’s head on, no more hiding in the shadows. The smuggler keeps you squarely behind him, keeping you mostly from view. Maybe to hide your identity from your fellow soldier.
“Halt and announce yourself.” The voice is thin, like a needle in your ear drums.
“Sebastian, it’s me Miller.” The smuggler only slows his steps, continuing his approach on the gate. He does put his hands up briefly, to show he’s not holding a weapon. Though from your view from behind you can see his revolver tucked under his belt.
You pop your head to side to get a good look at the soldier, and you feel his eyes clamp onto like a coyote on a sheep leg.
The smuggler talks again, keeping his voice as friendly as you’ve heard it, “I’m calling in that favor, Sebastian. I need to get through, no questions asked.”
Sebastian steps to the side until he can get a better view of you. His eyes gleam with a dullness you associate with sharks. You quell down the ridiculous urge to hide behind the smuggler.
He flicks his eyes back the smuggler, his lips pulling down when he tries to hide his smile, “Yeah uh that favor was more on the lines of getting you out of sewage duty, not something I’ll be hung for.”
He’s not wrong about that. Getting caught sneaking people into the QZ was a life sentence. Or it’s supposed to be, it all depends on who’s the superior officer and whether or not they’re bribable. Maybe FEDRA started out with pure intentions, establish order and safety, but these days it’s more like working for a gang with one hell of an artillery.
“I saved your life,” the smuggler grits out, taking another step towards the gate.
Threatening someone through a gate is an interesting move, you think. Confidence or stupidity? Maybe both.
Sebastian goes back to picking his nails, “Look, it’s nothing personal Miller. If you want me to risk my neck for you, it’s gotta be worth the squeeze, you know?” His eyes land back on you when he says this.
You feel a plan start to form. This man is obviously not your saviour come to rescue you. But maybe you can use him.
“How ‘bout you let me through, and I don’t shoot you,” the smuggler growls, taking another looming step closer. Evidently negotiating is not the man’s strong suit.
The soldier sighs like he’s tired with the smuggler’s shit, “Really, and the shot will bring every soldier down on you in less than a minute. I thought you were better than to make empty threats.”
You can see the smuggler’s teeth bared in a snarl, “It ain’t empty.”
Sebastian purses his lips like he’s considering, and then he looks at you again. “How about you give ten minutes,” he starts, and you already know where he’s going. The smuggler, oblivious, stares in impatience, waiting for him to continue.
“With your girl.”
There it is. As dirty as your hands are about to get, this may be your last chance for freedom. And sometimes a girl’s got to do, what she’s gotta do.
You step in front of the smuggler before he can speak, “If you promise to let us through, and that we were never here.”
The weight of both men’s very different stares hang on you like a shirt of chainmail. You speak again before the smuggler can fuck up this opportunity that’s been handed to you on a platter.
“It’s the only way, we need in,” you insist, praying to a god you know is dead, that the smuggler will just go with it.
The look he gives you sends a chill down your back. It’s the equivalent of pinning someone to a board and dissecting them. It’s a look that says I can see right through you.
You don’t let any more time pass, every second that passes is another where you lose what little control you have. And to keep control is to make the soldier believe he’s the one in control.
“Deal?” You ask him, ignoring the two-hundred pounds of mistrusting smuggler besides you.
Sebastian looks up at said smuggler, and when no objection comes, he approaches the gate, “Back up there,” he orders the smuggler.
Ever so slowly, the smuggler backs up a few feet, not before grabbing your sleeve and turning you to face him.
“The hell are you doing?” He demands in an angry whisper.
“Just let me do this. It’s the only way.” You reiterate, trying to look as honest as possible.
The smugglers brows slam low over his green eyes, “You’re not getting away this way.”
You keep your face still, “I know.”
The smuggler draws away, face hard, eyes narrowed. You step up to the gate, watching the soldier’s hands as he unlocks it.
Once on the inside of the QZ wall, the soldier shuts the gate, locking the gate. You don’t bother to look behind you, you walk away from the gate, your heart a heavy thump in your chest.
You’re so close to freedom you can taste it. So far it tastes like the stale air of alleyways with too much garbage. You don’t make it very far before a hand grabs the top of your shoulder, pushing you down a different alleyway. Right, you still have a few things to take care of.
Sebastian presses himself against you as he leads you to the next corner of the alley, out of site of the gate. The last dregs of night still lays over the city, which you’re thankful for.
“Alright beautiful, time for the follow-through.” He purrs, running his hands flat down your chest, down to grab a handful of your hips.
You’re careful to keep the aggression and violence jumping under your skin from showing visibly.
You face him square on. His clawed hands go to your shoulders, pushing down. The triumphant smirk on his face makes your stomach curl. How many times have this man done this. Used his power to extort the most desperate.
Really, what I’m about to do is downright righteous.
You let yourself be pushed down to your knees. Staring at his hands while he unbuckles his belt inches from your face, you feel a blanketing of your mind. It’s a familiar feeling, one that comes when a shoot-out starts out, or right before the punch lands. It’s the body and mind bracing for what’s to come next.
The soldier pulls out his cock and thrusts his hips at you. You can’t keep the sneer of disgust from your face. He doesn’t seem to care. In fact, if you had to guess you’d say your disgust and discomfort was part of the turn-on for him.
“C’mon lady, ain’t got all day.” He says while he grabs your hair and forces you closer.
Your hands raise to take the cock that’s almost hard already. You’re guessing the fact that the blood didn’t have very much to fill had something to do with that. In fact, it’s almost too small to be able to do what you’re planning.
You manage though, grabbing it with both hands by holding only with your first fingers and thumbs. Enduring the groans from the man above you, you stroke it until its rock hard. You get up on one knee, looking up at Sebastian, your own triumphant smile on your face. His fades a little bit at your expression, but he’s not quick enough to stop you.
Like a carrot, you snap the man’s dick. You hear an audible pop and feel the tender skin underneath your fingers tear. The man above you screams in pure shock and pain, and goes to bend over, clutching at his crotch.
You surge up from the ground and grab the side of his head as he falls, driving your knee up into his face as hard as you can. You keep your hold on the man’s head, made a tad difficult by his lack of hair but you compensate by digging your fingers into his skull.
You feel the familiar blood rush of violence roll over you like a dark wave. You’re left holding Sebastian’s head as he wobbles from having his face bashed in. So you bash it in again. First against your knee, twice more until you hear the nose crack too, before slamming his head against the brick wall.
The man slumps to the dirty ground. You pounce, pushing his hips over so you can access his belt, furiously looking for his gun. But its dark and your fingers don’t feel anything other than belt. Where the fuck does he keep it? Up his ass?
A gunshot rings out from behind where you left your smuggler. You feel your breath hitch, and know your time’s up. You abandon your search, but for good measures you kick Sebastian’s head into the wall one last time on your way out.
You break into a sprint, tearing around the corner only to smack into a familiar body going in the opposite direction. The impact was like running full face into one of the brick walls. While you’re disoriented, your wrist is grabbed.
“Is that blood? The hell did you do?” The smuggler snaps, and starts dragging you back where you just ran from. You spend your energy trying to pull free rather than answer, but the smuggler doesn’t have to wait very far to get his answer.
The body of Sebastian lies face up, his cracked penis and bashed in face on full display.
“Jesus,” the smuggler curses, sounding truly surprised.
It doesn’t matter what technique you do trying to get free again, how you lean your weight, how you dig the fingers of your free hand into his. He keeps his hold on you.
“Fucker!” You scream at him and punch the bastard in the face.
Well, try to. The smuggler sees it coming and just catches your other wrist. He looks down at you, both your hands in his grip. You feel your heart slow. He does not look thrilled.
Shit.
 The sounds of heavy tires from the street overtake the silence. You have maybe less than a minute to clear the area before a flood of FEDRA soldiers arrest both of you.
“The gunshot will’ve brought more soldiers. C’mon.” He whispers. 
Its spoken not as a request. You find yourself being pulled through the back alleys, ducking behind dumpsters to avoid FEDRA vehicles. You feel the sinking weight of defeat settle in your stomach.
You failed.
You were given another chance, and you failed again.
You let yourself be pulled from street to street. First, ducking from cover to cover. Then eventually, the smuggler tells you to just walk normal. He keeps to the outskirts of the QZ, where things look more run down.
“How the fuck you get through the gate so fast?” you demand after your blood has cooled.
“Shot the generator through the fence. Lock popped open. Why there’s supposed to be a guard.”
The office building across the street is clearly abandoned. Probably why this is the building he leads you into. By the time you reach it, its light enough to see the door is painted a peeling rusty red, the same shade as Sebastian’s blood stained into your knee.
Once the door is shut, the sounds of the outside fade into the background. The smuggler leans against the door, breathing out a tired curse.
You don’t wait for him to lead you, you make your way into the office, scoping out the space. When you look back, the smuggler is still leaning against the door with his eyes closed.
His exhaustion is satisfying to see, “So, is this the worst job you’ve ever taken?”
The smuggler grunts, pushing off the door. You’re a good ways down the hall from him, and when you poke your head into an office, you see an open window.
You’re on the second story, but you’d take a broken ankle if it meant going home. Just when you’re debating jumping out the window, you feel a hand clamp down on to your shoulder.
It’s too similar to the way Sebastian grabbed you. The feeling of violation slaps you across the face.
You duck out of his touch and out of his reach. The smuggler doesn’t even look phased at your skittishness. His face remains deadpanned.
“That way,” he points behind him, across the central room where another office door is cracked open.
You have a brief moment where you think about going for the window anyways. The smuggler is patient while he waits for you to decide.
You also know that FEDRA is currently hounding the streets not far from here, and if the crazy bitch that assaulted Sebastian shows up, being arrested would be getting off lightly.
You’re truly damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
You turn your back to the window, and walk past the waiting smuggler to where he pointed. As shitty as it is, you’re safer here with him for the time being.
It’s a similar procedure as the doctor’s office. The smuggler shuts the door and then proceeds to push the couch in the room up against the door, barricading it. He sits down with a spectacular groan.
“There’s food and water in the desk.” He says.
You open the first drawer of the heavy oak desk in the east corner of the room. Inside is more dried fruit. About five pounds of it.
The next drawer yields your best score yet. Jerky. You unwrap the cloth bundle and immediately rip a chunk off. Its salt floods your tongue, restoring some desperately needed minerals. It tastes like deer.
Tucked under the desk is a giant jug of water.
You take your treasures to the far corner of the room and sit with your back to the wall. There you feast. The smuggler starts counting his remaining amo.
“This another smuggler checkpoint or something?” You ask through a mouthful of jerky.
“Or something.”
Your eyes narrow, but the smuggler is unaware perched on his couch. You keep eating, trying to savor it but end up scarfing it down for the most part.
“So what now?” You demand once you feel stuffed to the point of discomfort.
“Now we wait till they stop searching the streets for the crazy lady that ripped a soldier’s dick off.”
“I did not,” you state, “I snapped it, it’s still attached I’m pretty sure.”
A comical shudder passes through the smuggler. It amuses you.
“Well, can’t say he didn’t deserve it,” says the smuggler, “Sebastian’s a piece work.” His voice has a fair amount of disdain in it.
“Probably won’t work with you anymore,” you point out.
“There’s always another,” says the smuggler. It’s said casually. Like its just a fact. Which it is. Being in the belly of the beast really shows you how corrupt your governing body is. The comment still feels like a gut shot. It’s the reason you never let yourself hope for a rescue. You knew you were on your own the moment you were given the assignment.
Goddamn FEDRA might even have something to do with this. You have no idea why, but they’re certainly not above selling their own to their enemy.
If that’s the case, you might be better off being a Firefly ransom. A soldier that knows too much doesn’t stick around very long.
Here in the quiet, you think about what the soldier called the smuggler.
“Miller,” you speak up again, turning the word over in your mind, finding out how it tastes on your tongue, “I met a Miller once.”
The air stills. He doesn’t look at you, just keeps cleaning his gun.
“He saved my life,” you look at him and feel anger boil in your stomach when he still won’t look at you, “I never thanked him.” You see the smuggler’s brows furrow. “Guess it doesn’t matter anymore.”
 This tension in the air, when you finally acknowledged who he is, is as clear a confirmation you need.
You’ve met this man before. It seems like a lifetime ago, even when it wasn’t. The same man that saved you all those years ago is the bastard that’s leading you to your death.
The chamber slides into place with a click that echoes in the silent room. He finally meets your eyes.
“How long you known?”
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atarathegreat · 1 day
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Really?! Makoto Suzuki
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"No way."
"What the hell am I looking at?"
"Is Makoto talking to a girl...and she's not running away?"
Even Akkun couldn't believe it, though he didn't say anything. He wanted to be supportive of his friend's new crush or whatever it was. But seriously, was she holding his hand? She had to have known what he used that hand for, right?
They all tried to hide their disbelief as Makoto and the girl approached. She wore a cute little apron with the name of the plant shop next to them. So not only did she have a real job, but she was cute and she was interested in Makoto? What type of side world had they all stepped into? Akkun looked over at Takemichi and reached out to get his attention, "What the hell am I seeing?" Yet he was asking the wrong person as Takemichi shrugged and shook his head.
"Guys, this is Y/n." Makoto looked proud as he showed off the girl next to him. Everyone's eyes were trained on where she was holding Makoto's hand, fingers locked together and she was smiling. No girl smiled if she had to hold Makoto's right hand.
"She knows what she's holding, rig- OOF!" Akkun elbowed Yamagishi before he could finish his question. "He means hello." Akkun smiled at the girl, "He's just awful at social interaction."
"Well, hello to you, too." Her smile was big, pretty. There was no doubt as to why Makoto liked her. Pretty smile, beautiful eyes, hair that Akkun wouldn't mind styling. And there was no way she couldn't pull off the work uniform, it could be inside out and backward and she'd be making a fashion statement. Makoto could see it, too. When he usually looked at girls it was as if they were candy in the candy store. But with this girl, Makoto looked at her as if she was dew in the morning on grass or the sunlight that filtered through the trees in the late afternoon. She was magic to this little peasant boy and the village was experiencing it all for the first time.
She giggled. Giggled! Someone this cute was holding hands with Makoto?
"I'm Makoto's girlfriend."
Takemichi and Yamagishi immediately hit the floor, leaving Akkun and Takuya to smile and act as if nothing had happened. Magic was always unpredictable. And those two were always morons.
"And we're just now finding out?!" Yamagishi sounded almost offended as he circled the young couple. He inspected the way they held hands, how close they stood together, even if she was breathing heavily. This had to be a hostage situation, or she was lying. "How much did he pay you to say that? I'll double it for you to tell the truth."
Y/n chuckled and it was the prettiest sound, reminding the boys of the wind chimes they hit as they left school. She was... Well, nearly perfect. There was that flaw in her eyesight. "I am his girlfriend!" Her insistence was adorable, "We've been together for a week!"
"No way!" Takemichi's jaw dropped, "A week?! I don't believe it!"
Huffy and puffing up her already well endowed chest, Y/n turned and gave Makoto a kiss on the cheek, "I have to get back. My breaks over. You still walking me home?"
"Yeah, I'll be back around then." Makoto's tan cheeks turned pink as she walked away.
But he was quick to turn on his friends. "Do none of you know how to be happy for me? Are you trying to make her think something is wrong with me?"
"Something is wrong with you." Yamagishi rolled his eyes.
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dumplingsjinson · 2 days
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an update on cat guy because it's been a hot minute since i've done one, i think. i don't remember if i've talked about him lately so here goes.
i had a date with cat guy on monday night; met his extended family again for his cousin's birthdy party (which i was informed about ON MONDAY MORNING SO I WAS LIKE HUH), was somehow roped into being in some of the pictures as well so i'm like- oh. they remember me, but i don't remember their names lmfao weflnewklnf
i ended up staying over (like i've been doing literally every date now lmfao).
ANYYWAAYYY, we've been having this thing where tickle fights (started by my menace self) would turn into his face being so close to mine, and i'd have to resist the temptation to kiss him just because i love playfighting with him (because i know once i give in, he'd kiss me hard and wouldn't let me go for a damn while) even though it ends up with me losing EVERY TIME.
and i also just love hearing him laughing. like, sometimes he'd try to kiss me and i'd pretend to give in and then be like HAHA no- we STILL HAVE MORE OF THIS TO GO!
whenever i actually give up because i lowkey tired myself out with all the resisting, he'd move in closer and... well, yeah.
FORGIVE A GIRL FOR GIVING INTO THE TEMPTATION OF RELIEVING THAT SEXUAL TENSION OKAY.
(TMI below the line, if you don't want to see me share the details then spare yourself lmfao)
now that's out of the way.
things would get pretty hot and heavy (my question to him last night, verbatim, after we calmed down a little: "how do we always end up like this?" and mfer goes "is there a problem with that?" in his usual teasing tone while holding me even closer to him EVERY GOD DAMN TIME.
and no, i'm not complaining, because i have needs and wants and i am not someone who's afraid to admit that and usually i want that to happen which is why i start the tickle fights HAHAH
so that night, let's just say i was being a very needy lil shit (his thigh was involved) and i was like blabbering and being all like "this is so embarrassing" in a soft whine, and this man goes:
"it's so hot," in that husky voice of his.
FUCKING EXCUSE-
he also called me his good girl once again AND IT NEVER FAILS TO MAKE ME FEEL SO SHY LKWENFWEKN
anyways.
after that first session (yes we had another one afterwards, stfu-), i was telling him how i wanna make him feel good too (he's always the one making me feel good and i felt so selfish for receiving so much and giving so little).
he proceeds to tell me, "you make me happy. i like making you feel good and as long as you feel good and you're happy, then i feel good, too."
and me, while stroking his hair and feeling guilty with the knowledge that he's usually the one giving, "but are you happy?" (and when i asked that, even though he already said i make him happy, i meant like... is he really happy?? considering how, in my head, he was giving so much and i wasn't returning much. not because i don't want to but because he never asks for much even when i straight up ask him what he wants me to do with him. i'm just someone who very easily doubts things).
and motherfucker on a truck (the sweetheart that he fucking is onrgklfnw), goes: "yeah. i'm happy when you're happy, because i love you so much" and lays his head on my chest and i'm likeee HELLLPPPPPP ofnewklnfw 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
after like a moment or two because my brain is a piece of laggy shit, i mutter a soft "i love you, too" and hold him closer to me bECAUSE I'M BAD AT EXPRESSING MY AFFECTIONS WITH WORDS AND SAYING I LOVE YOU IS NOT SOMETHING THAT NATURALLY COMES TO ME EVEN WHEN IT'S SAID TO ME FIRST OKAY, LEAVE ME ALONEEEEE
i've asked him plenty of times prior to this time what he wants me to do with him and it all boils down to this: he's someone who likes to please, rather than to be pleased.
which is fair enough, but i did tell him if he ever wants me to do anything, he can tell me.
but yeah. all this happened.
and i can't wait to see him again for his friend's birthday party, which he invited me to wlknfe
it's so funny bc i feel like i'm slowly entering his world and i'm part of his comfort zone now.
he's also an insufferable piece of shite and a right old prat at times, but i love him either way <3
he also did suggest something he's wanted to try but never got around to doing so after that talk of ours, which lead into the second session SAURRR
:))) i love him-
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avelera · 2 days
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Apologies for screaming into your askbox like this but
EVERYTHING YOU SAID ABOUT BENIOFF AND WEISS IS SO FUCKING TRUE AND I AM SO GLAD SOMEONE ELSE IS FINALLY SAYING SOMETHING
As someone who read the Game of Thrones books (probably younger than I should have...but that's beside the point) the sorts of things that the two Ds decided needed to be added for the sake of "realism" or "accuracy" was ALWAYS just an excuse to brutalize someone. Be it kids, be it women (though in GoT is was usually women) and so much of it was not in the books!!! Like, sure, the books have accrued a reputation for being brutal, and they totally are...but they never seem as gretuatus in the way that David and Dan seem to revel in the crualty. Utterly original characters are introduced for the express purpose of being killed or assaulted, and it makes watching Game of Thrones a harrowing experience.
I'm not surprised that this has continued in their other work, in so many ways, the bloodlust became their calling card. I am deeply thankful that most of the other places that had been courting them to make projects have dropped them.
I will say in defense of the no doubt huge team who worked on Three Body Problem that it's not a gore fest or anything. There was a lot I've enjoyed in eps 1-5 (which as far as I've gotten at the moment) and scenes of violence are hardly the only thing that happens (though umm... maybe be prepared for the opening scene. It's also a doozy.)
Anyway, as I see it, Benioff and Weiss's sadism is more like... Tarantino's foot fetish. It doesn't consume the entire story, but when Tarantino does a loving closeup of feet you're like, "Ah, there it is. I was wondering when that would show up." If B&W work on something, like it or not, they're going to mash the cruelty button and heighten the cruelty of canonical scenes (if it's an adaptation) in order to try to get a reaction out of the audience. It's just how they work. For some audiences, that might even be a feature, not a bug!
The thing that makes me so frothing at the mouth enraged about Benioff and Weiss is how fucking coquettish they are about their sadism. They always act so fucking surprised like they're shocked that anyone would think that the gore and the horror were the point and what drew them to the story (I know, I'm just repeating my post at this point but STILL--!).
Look, when I was a teen, I totally first started writing angst to sort of... express this vein of sadism in myself in a safe outlet like fiction. I wanted to make people cry with my writing. So I'd do things like just kill off all the characters and be so proud when a reader said they were sad after.
But that's just... really flat and amateurish angst, y'know? There are so many more sophisticated and meaningful ways to create emotion, including sadness, in an audience other than just killing off all the characters or torturing them.
But I feel I remember enough from those days (I'd like to think I've long since grown out of that impulse) to know a sadist when I see one? And Benioff and Weiss's storytelling, to my eyes again, is simply sadistic. It glories in watching people in pain and it finds ways to exaggerate that pain and the chance to exaggerate moments of pain is what draws them to the stories they like to depict.
And that's fine. Plenty of horror creators revel in gore and cruelty and it's an entirely worthy art form!
But for the most part, those horror creators know what they're doing and they're open or even joyful about the fun they have creating these horror stories! Enjoying creating horror stories or depicting suffering or even being sadistic, particularly in fiction where no one is actually getting hurt, is perfectly fine.
I just fuckin... wish Benioff and Weiss would admit that's what it is goddamn it makes me INSANE.
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bbythurs · 3 days
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The Bear filming sightings - theories
Warning potential filming spoilers The Bear Tumblr PSA-
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About filming spoilers- noticed some are kindly using a ‘the bear spoilers’ tag - think this may have been used at the start of new season releases though too , so i’ve also added ‘the bear filming spoilers’- would add them to your muted tags if you don’t want to see stuff about the filming of S3. I personally don’t think photos etc of the cast off duty are spoilers , I’m talking when they’re literally on set, being filmed, other actors are there etc . I/ others might slip tagging sometimes tho 🤷🏾‍♀️ so you might hafta speed scroll there 🫠
Ok and well done to you for having strength unknown, managing to resist the spoilers 😂, peace
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Ok, onto my thoughts about recent filming …
Soo.. seen this on twitville (no one’s ever callin it ‘X’ Elno) :
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-david2chicago
Who’s that guy Sydney’s speaking to??? My first thought was ‘ooh a date!’ in my addled need to see our girl have some fun make Carmy jealous
But on a real, I could be wrong (if so deleting this like it never happened) but is that the chef guy from S2’s Richie episode Forks, who’s mad about the smudges? (lol). I fell into a super sleuthing rabbit hole and looked up the location.
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As far as I can see there doesn’t appear to be any previously used The Bear locations/restaurant locations on that street. Interestingly though there are on both sides of the street fancy kitchen / interior showrooms - Valcucine:
https://www.valcucinechicago.com/showroom
and Boffi|DePadova:
So maybe they’re being used to film interior scenes of a professional kitchen or a fancy apartment- of the guy Sydney is speaking to? The Richie episode was filmed on site at the actual restaurant- Ever, which is elsewhere. I guess it could still be Ever but them filming interiors elsewhere…
I prefer the Sydney hanging out with someone with a super fancy apartment to be fair 🤣, actually I’d prefer if it was HERs but I don’t think The Bear is making that type of dollar yet, plus I think filming notifications have already been posted for what Twitter think is Syd’s current /possibly new (I hope so!) apartment elsewhere.
If the guy is the CDC from Ever , the actor’s name is Adam Shapiro,
and apparently he’s married to Katie Lowes who was Quinn in Scandal?!-omg loved her in the show… anyhoo this could all be nonsense but was fun thinking about…
If it is the Ever CDC, doubt it would be a romantic link for Syd- he seems a bit older- don’t think they’d have Syd with a significantly older guy. Plus as much as Syd strives for perfection in the kitchen, I don’t think he’s on her wavelength- flipping out over forks like that 🤣. It may be professional- eek…Syd scoping out other opportunities??? 😬, or simply hanging out with a fellow chef etc…
Before filming started I didn’t think I’d want to keep up with it- but I’m too damn thirsty for updates.. I’ve accepted this. Also I’m still gonna enjoy the show regardless but anything really huge/spoiler-y to the plot, i think they would be filming it inside/ have the set fully blocked out. They know I’m sure, that the city and the internet is 👀
Possible evidence update :
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recent Chicago related tweets?!:
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PSA this is a safe space for rando theories please (speaking to the internet, not tumblr y’all know how to be on code) don’t message actors/ potential actors on the show about if they’re in it… they wouldn’t be able to say either way anyway probably. Let’s keep it on the playground
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skaybrekker · 3 days
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Teenage dream.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Genius, Fem! Oc(they are not a couple, I wrote this more thinking about them as soulmates, but you can interpret that they are in love), BAU Team x Oc.
Warnings: talks about bloody cases that include rape and abuse. In one part, the reader is kidnapped, but before anything bad happens her team arrives. The only thing the kidnapper does is undo the bottoms of her shirt. There is though violence before that. Nightmares (mentions of them).
Summary: At the age of 20, Aurora Leids was already working at the BAU as part of one of the most important teams there were. However, due to her age, the agents that worked with her (that ended up becoming her family) were really protective of her, aware of how young she was. Here a five situations in which they showed this.
Tags: angst, kidnapping, abuse (explained in the warnings), violence, bloody cases, comfort, fluff, protective team.
Notes: English is not my first language, I’m sorry if there are any mistakes, I tried my best. The team in this fic is formed by Hotch, Reid, Emily, Rossi, JJ, Morgan and Penelope. Rossi and Penelope don’t really appear much, sorry about that. And I’m sorry if there are scenes that end too quickly, it took a lot of energy to write something so long.
Words: 11.1k
Aurora Leids was a genius. As simple as that.
And of course, she realized that her brain worked a little different from the rest when her classmates were learning to multiply numbers and she was, by then, capable of solving a few of the most difficult algebra problems there were out there. It was not just that; at the mere age of eight, the kid had learnt how to speak three languages; Spanish, English and Italian.
Her parents noticed as well and thank God, didn’t doubt it before sending her to a special school for genius kids. There, she graduated at a very young age and went directly to study criminal justice and political science. She knew what she wanted to do since years; becoming an FBI agent was one of her most valuable goals.
Obviously, she managed to accomplish it. At the age of 20, she was already working at the BAU as part of one of the most important teams there were. However, due to her age, the agents that worked with her (that ended up becoming her family) were really protective of her, aware of how young she was.
Here a few situations in which they showed this.
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1.
So, here is a fact; Mandarin was one of the hardest languages to learn. To not say the hardest. There were many things that made this 100% true; the number of characters that it had, as well as the tones, between other things. Nevertheless, Aurora loved challenges. So, she spent four years of her life learning it.
It took time, more than what she would like to admit, a lot of willingness and intelligence. Yet, she managed to dominate it, making it the sixth language she was now fluent with. After that, she also learnt Portuguese and Latin and with that, she gave her ability to learn so many idioms a rest.
Aurora never though that mandarin would be actually useful outside of China since Mandarin Chinese was primarily spoken in that country. That was, until today’s case proved her wrong.
Serial killers weren’t weird to find. Over the years, her team caught a lot of them. But this one, shit. It made her skin crawl. Because this man was uncanny, bizarre and repulsive. It wasn’t just the fact that he killed one woman per day, after raping them several times while cutting their skins; it was also that he left audio recordings of everything that happened in these scenes.
The first time that Penelope heard them, she threw up. Several times. The agent managed to calm down only when Morgan talked her through, as usual. After all, they were each other best friend, just like her and Spencer.
Aurora didn’t throw up, but she felt the bill in her throat and by the looks that the rest of the team had, they were all feeling the same.
The man left the bodies in their houses; he didn’t bother in hiding them or the DNA he left in them. They were waiting for him to make a mistake, to get out of the routine. Today was the day. They caught the man trying to enter one of the houses, after determining his next victim with the victimology and Garcia’s help. However, they discovered that he had already kidnapped the woman in the house. When they finished searching his house and didn’t find anything, the only option they had was to interrogate him.
Yeah, one hour passed since then. Morgan couldn’t get anything out of him. Not even a word. The only thing he did was to look forward and keep his mouth shut.
That was, before they discovered that he was Chinese. They already knew that he was Asian, but it was as if the man was a fucking ghost; Garcia couldn’t find him in any data base, until she did.
“He probably speaks Mandarin, that’s why his accent was so marked and there were many words we couldn’t understand.” as always, Reid stating facts. A fact that made Aurora feel so fucking stupid.
Fuck. Fuck.
How the fuck she didn’t realize before?
“And what the fuck are we going to do now? Mandarin is hell of a language; we are going to have a really hard time trying to find a translator.” Morgan sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. They were all frustrated and in a bad mood; this case had to be one of the hardest and most horrible they ever worked with.
Now, they were all in one of the rooms that the local police left them from a small city in Ohio. Hotch was standing, leaning in one of the walls, with his usual thin lips and eyes burrowed. Rossi was sitting beside him, playing with a pen in his hand. Reid, Morgan and JJ were all sitting around the table, while Aurora choose to just sit in the table.
She bite her lip, clenching and unclenching her hands, until she spoke.
“I know how to speak Mandarin.” that made her the centre of attention immediately. Every head in the office turned around to observe her. Aurora grimaced. She hated having all this attention in herself; it always made her nervous.
“You kiddin.” Morgan said, his face written with disbelief. His eyebrows were raised, and he was looking at her as if she just said that she was the serial killer instead of that man. Aurora rolled her eyes.
“No, I’m not kidding, Morgan. I speak eight languages, Mandarin is one of them,” she glanced at Hotch, “you know that.”
The man clenched his jaw. Besides her, she felt how Spencer tensed up, already realizing of what she was implying.
“I didn’t remember that Mandarin was one of them.”
“Let me in. Let me speak with him.” Hotch instantly shocks his head. Of course, he was going to say no, but Aurora could be horrible persistent when it was needed.
“Yeah, no. No chance. I’m waiting for the translator.” Aurora dropped her shoulders, tilting her head.
“Sir, with all the respect, this is the faster and easier way. That woman could be dying out there if she’s not already dead. Please.” Spencer grabbed her arm, glancing at her with his eyebrows raised, questioning her words. Aurora just shook her head; when an idea was put in her head, nothing could stop her until she accomplishes it.
“He’s a serial killer. He raped several women, several times. I’m not letting you go in the same room as him!” his tone indicated that there was not room for arguing, but Aurora was not someone used to keep quiet.
“Hotch, please. I’m begging. Come with me, do whatever you want. But let me speak with him.” her boss got up and massaged his forehead. A few seconds later, he finally nodded. Aurora smiled, relaxing.
“Alright, fine. But me and Morgan are coming with you.”
“It’s too dangerous.” Spencer immediately disagreed and Aurora glared at him.
“I agree.” Emily backed up and the girl sighed.
“He’s in chains, he probably can’t move a lot and I’m pretty sure I’m too far away from his touch. I will be fine, you are all worrying too much.” it seemed that all the team wanted to argue with her; before they could say anything though, she spoke again. “I’m doing this, guys. End of discussion.”
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It was hard as fuck to glance at this man into his eyes. Those eyes that watched so many women die in his hands, after doing so many disgusting things with them, fuck. It made Aurora sick. Yet, she couldn’t focus on that. She had a job. And she was ready to finally use her ability of speaking Mandarin.
“Hello” that got her an instant reaction. For the first time since they brought the man in, he blinked and moved his head to one side. A ghost of a smile appeared in his lips. Aurora had to shallow the bill that appeared in her throat.
“Good afternoon, Lady.” disgusting man, fuck.
Control yourself.
“You are the first American I hear speaking my language.” he was glancing at her as if she was an animal pray and she knew that Hotch and Morgan could notice it, by how hard they were glaring the man.
“Am I? That’s sad. Even if it’s a really hard language, I’ve always thought that it was really beautiful.” they both stayed silent for some seconds, until Aurora decided to speak once again. “We need to know where the woman you kidnapped is.”
His response was to smirk. To fucking smirk. He probably enjoyed this, as most of the serial killers did. Aurora clenched her fist, thinking about how they could get something out of this attempt of human being. Then, she remembered something; they found a big number of books full of Chinese Proverbs in his house; Aurora always enjoyed reading them, amazed by their meanings. Maybe that could work.
After all, most of the serial killers loved to be entertained with something. They had this idea, that the rest of the people were toys that they could play with. Alright, Aurora was ready to start playing this game. A game she was determinant to win.
“While there are green hills, there will be wood to burn.”
Where there is life, there is hope.
Once again, she got his full attention. This time, he raised his eyebrows, and his smile was even bigger. And creepier. With this, she was trying to say that if they didn’t get proof that the woman was dead, they were assuming that she was still breathing.
 “To slap a horse’s back.”
To try to be nice to get something out of someone.
He knew that she was using the proverbs to get something out of him, but she didn’t care. They were working. Why? Due to the fact that with only one, she already knew that the woman was still alive. Serial killers hated to be guilty of something they never did; they only killed the people they killed. So, if he had, in fact, killed the woman, he would have taken the time to deny that she was alive.
Before she could think about how to keep going, he beat her.
“To climb a tree to catch fish.”
A lost cause. No, no. This couldn’t be a lost cause.
“Freezing into three feet depth can’t be done in one day.”
Don’t give up and you’ll see results.
At this, the man fucking laughed. Laughed at her face. Alright, making him laugh was definitely not what she was looking for. Aurora blinked, confused, until he spoke once again.
“Fine, you made me had a good time, agent and indeed, you know really well how to speak my language.” the sudden change of language made Aurora tilt her head. What the fuck? But then, it clicked. The entertainment worked.
The man glanced at Hotch, who seemed to be really close to knock this man up.
“The woman is in an abandoned house in the middle of the North Forest.”
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“What the fuck happened in there?” Emily immediately questioned her just when they got out of the room. Aurora was still a little bit shaken and dizzy. Mandarin was a language that required a lot of concentration and to go from this to English so damn fast made her headache worsen.
“I-I just talked to him. He was surprised that I could speak Mandarin, said that I was the first American he heard speak it. I quickly realized that I was not going to get anything just with that, so I remembered the number of books full of Chinese proverbs we found in his house. I love Chinese proverbs; they are so interesting and amazing. I used to read about them all the time and-. Sorry, I’m rambling. I just thought about tell him a couple of the ones I know, just to entertain him. We know how serial killers love this. The first one I said, it means ‘where there is life, there is hope´ like saying that if he didn’t deny it, the woman for us was still alive. He answered with something like about doing something to get something out of someone. He knew what I was doing. Then he spoke again, basically telling me that what I was doing was a last cause and I just replied with something about hope. And well then, he just laughed and confessed as y’all saw.” everyone in the room was looking at her as if they were impressed with what she had done. What she didn’t know was that indeed, they were impressed.
“You did a great job, Aurora.” Hotch told her and she widened her eyes, surprised. It was not normal to hear this kind of praise coming from their boss, but it made her feel this warm feeling in her chest. So, she smiled, happy.
“You really surprised us there, pretty girl.” Morgan praised, kissing her in the forehead and Aurora let out a shushed laugh, softly shocking her head. At the beginning she was just like Reid with physical affection; every little touch made her jumpy and uncomfortable. Yet, that ended up changing and now, sometimes, it was her the one that reached out for that comfort.
Emily and Reid also told her the good job she did, and Gideon just smiled to her, but that was enough for her. It was really hard to impress such an agent as the very same Jason Gideon, so that little recognition, it was enough. For her.
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Aurora loved cooking. It was something that helped calming her down and that made her disconnect from everything. People usually said that she was really good at doing this; receiving compliments about her foods always made her giggly. It was one of the few hobbies she had, something that didn’t require any type of intelligent; that what made it special.
Obtaining compliments about her mental capacity was not something weird; she was already used to. She knew how smart she was and how high her IQ was, Aurora didn’t need anyone telling her that. However, compliments about her cooking were different because of that; it was not something she was used to.
When her team discovered her cooking abilities, they were absolutely amazed. And after insisting, they managed to convince Aurora to cook for one member every day.
Mondays, for Hotch. Tuesdays, Rossi. Wednesday, Emily. Thursday, Reid. Friday, Derek. Saturday, Garcia. Sunday, JJ.
It didn’t take much of an effort to persuade her to do this. Honestly, cooking was one of her favourite ways of expressing her love for the people she cared about.
Today, it was Thursday, the very same day they caught the Chinese man and Aurora interrogated him. They had already come back to Virginia and now, they were all filling the reports. Thinking ahead before leaving to Ohio, she left two lunch boxes with food for when they came back in the fridge.
“Dinner is here!” she exclaimed, giving Reid one of the lunch boxes. He gave her a big smile, probably a little confused based in his quizzical expression, since he was not expecting this. When he noticed the pasta, he laughed, knowing that it was one of her best dishes.
“This is literally the best. Thanks, Rora.”
For this occasion, she cooked an Italian pasta, with a sauce called “Pesto Genovese.” Italian food was always the one that she enjoyed cooking the most, after all, she had loved pasta as long as she remembered.
“You don’t know how much I envy you, Reid.” Morgan commented. Spencer stuck his tongue out in his direction and the older man gasped in fake surprise.
“JJ!” the blonde chuckled watching their interaction; it was as if she was watching two little kids bothering each other. While they started to eat, Morgan and JJ sat closer to them.
“I didn’t know you could speak eight languages, pretty girl.” the older man changed the topic and Aurora grimaced.
“I thought you all did.” she just lifts her shoulders, grabbing another bite of her pasta. She shouldn’t say this, but it was pretty good.
“Which ones do you know?” JJ asked, sounding genuinely curious and Aurora smiled.
“Well English obviously, Spanish, Italian, French, Latin, Japanese, Portuguese and Mandarin.” all of them lifted their heads clearly amazed by her words and the girl blushed. It was something so normal for her to know eight languages that she usually forgot how shocking it could be for others.
“That’s crazy.” Derek huffed out, letting out a loud laugh that cracked a smile in Aurora’s face.
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2.
It was the first time that Aurora fitted in the victimology of the serial killer perfectly. At the point in which it was fucking scary. Especially for her. And for the team as well. They were acting a lot more overprotective that usually. They didn’t let her alone for one second.
Reid was always there when she needed coffee or something to eat, not letting her go anywhere and going there to get anything for her. Morgan didn’t let her out of his sight for a second, coming with her to revise every one of the scenes. JJ didn’t make it too obvious, but Aurora always felt her presence when they were in the police department of Florida, where they were working this case. Hotch and Emily kept her, intentionally, always as close to them as they could.
Rossi was not as protective as the rest, but Aurora noticed how unusually angry this case made him, lashing out all the time, due to the stress of not being able to solve it.
Two days later after they arrived, they managed to finally capture the guy they had as a primary suspect. Nevertheless, they had a problem; they didn’t have all the proof needed to show that he was, indeed, the killer. He didn’t leave any DNA in the scenes; they couldn’t get any video of the man or any testimony. All that they had was a drawing from a victim that escaped and a tape of his voice and another victim’s voice they found in one of the houses.
It wasn’t enough and they were running out of time. Hotch, Gideon and Morgan had already tried everything they could. Nothing worked. And of course, Aurora had already thought about a plan. A plan that nobody was going to like, but well, whatever.
“You should let me interrogate him.” after her words, the room fell totally in silent. Once again, they were all looking at her. This was becoming more common that what Aurora would like.
“Are you crazy, woman?”
“No.”
“That’s not happening.”
“Aurora, I love you, but this is a big no.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
She got all the replies in one second.
Morgan. Hotch. Reid. JJ. Emily. In that order.
The girl waved her arms widely, letting out a big sigh. She understood their behaviour, she really did, but fuck it was so frustrating. They were acting as if she was a little girl that needed protection when she was not little and didn’t need protection.
“Fuck’s sake, you guys. I’m not someone who needs protection, I know pretty well how to defend myself. So, thank you, it’s cute, but man. This is the only way. If any of you have a better plan, please! Share it with the class.” silence was all she got as an answer. The girl huffed out, rolling her eyes.
“She’s right.” after hearing Rossi, all of them immediately protested. The man scratched the back of his neck, a clear signal that he was as frustrated as everyone was. “I know, I know. I like it as much as you do. But we are running out of options, and we need his confession. We can’t let this man out, under any circumstances.” Aurora smiled satisfied. Hotch bite his lip a couple of times before nodding. Derek and Spencer both seemed as if they wanted to clearly disagree; Aurora glared at them with all her strength.
“Fine, but-”
“Yes, yes, you and Morgan come with me, I know.”
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Just as she stepped in the room, the man instantly looked up and Aurora noticed how his expression quickly changed. Now, he was wearing a confident face, with a what someone would call a flirty smile. He straightened and cleared his throat.
“And who are you, sweetheart?” then, he looked at Morgan and Hotch, “you really brought me a beautiful gift.” they immediately started to walk closer to the man, probably ready to beat him up, but Aurora put her hands up and stopped them.
“It’s okay.” she whispered, smiling to the boys. She heard the man laughing but choose to ignored it and walk directly to the chair in front of him.
“Bossy, eh? I like you.” Aurora didn’t let the man get her. Instead, she glanced firmly at him, staying like that, for about three minutes. The man seemed to get more impatient at every second that went through.
“My name is Agent Leids and I think that both of us know why we are here.” she finally spoke, putting her arms above the table and softly tilting her head. The man, once again, laughed.
“Do we, Agent Leids?” this wasn’t a strange strategy that people choose to use when they were accused. In was weird in serial killers, though. However, there were many options to break the act. And Aurora knew exactly which one to use to make it work this time.
“You know, this case had become really famous. Many women called us, scared of this mysterious man.” his smile was becoming bigger and bigger. “Yet, there is a problem. If we don’t know who this man is, this case is probably going to be forgotten.” it sounded stupid, because it was stupid. That was not true. An absolutely 100% lie. Yet, he would probably believe it. During the case, he demonstrated several times the level of stupidity he had.
So, of course, he fell for the lie. His smile was whipped out of his face and now, he was frowning. It wasn’t common for them to catch serial killers that were not really smart, but it seemed that this time they got lucky.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Aurora had to resist the smile that was about to adorn her lips.
“Well, if we don’t know who it is, nobody would remember it. After all, it would be just a case that we failed to solve. Why should we let it remain in people’s memories? In some weeks, nobody is going to remember who this man was.” she shuddered, knowing that this was definitely a lie. If they didn’t catch this man, people were probably going to become even more paranoid than they already were. However, this man didn’t need to know that.
Her last comment finally made him exploit; the reaction that Aurora was looking for.
“YOU BITCH!” he hit the table while standing up and Hotch and Morgan reacted right away, stepping in front of her but Aurora stayed in her place, refusing to move, frozen. Now, the killer was glancing at her from above, with a finger signalling directly at her. “Nobody would forgive me. I did every single thing to make this case special. This is going to be legendary. People will always remember me, especially the families of the women’s I killed.” finally.
After hearing this, Aurora stood up, smiling.
“That’s exactly what we needed. Thank you!” when she finally got out of the room, Aurora let out the breath that she was holding. Fuck, fuck. Her heartbeat was too fucking loud, and her hands were now shaking.
She hated herself for that. It wasn’t anything weird, she just talked to the serial killer, something that his colleagues did all the time. She did it all the time. Then, why was she feeling like this? Why this time was any different?
“Hey, hey, Aurora, listen to me.” Reid was the first one to react, walking closer to the girl and softly putting his hands in her shoulders. As a first reaction, she flinched, but when she comprehended that it was Spencer the one that was touching her, she relaxed. “Everything is alright. You are alright.” Aurora nodded, several times.
“I know, I know.” she mumbled, still a little shaken and lost.
Weak, weak. You are weak.
Then, Spencer decided to bring her to his chest, hugging her and there, Aurora finally let her shoulders lose all tense, sighing and putting her arms around his body, feeling finally safe.
“Aurora.” Hotch softly said a few minutes later. She broke the hug, but keep Reid’s warm body close, needing some kind of comfort, and glanced at her boss. Even if he would never admit it, Aurora knew that he had some kind of soft spot for her. Morgan had repeatedly remarked this every time he could. Garcia often told her that it was pure envy. “You are not weak. It’s normal to react like that after noticing how that man was looking at you. You did a good job.” the girl smiled at him, grateful, and nodded.
“Yeah, it’s alright. I’m just a little shaken.”
“A coffee might fix that?” JJ loved to take care of the members of the team. They usually called it her mama spirit.
“Definitely.”
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3.
Aurora knew that something was wrong the instant she opened the door of her apartment. Morgan brought her, after a case that left all of them tired out. Hotch ordered them to go home and rest, saying that they all deserve it. Nobody complaint, obviously.
She lived a couple of blocks from Derek, so he always took her home after work, since she still didn’t know how to drive. They had already promised with Reid to learn how to the next year. For now, she intended to keep this routine that the pair had gotten used to.
Even if she was totally worn out, the girl noticed straight away that there was another presence in the place. Many ideas crossed her mind, yet the quickest was to go by herself with the gun in her hand. Calling Derek would take too much time and she didn’t know what to expect, so, she preferred to keep only herself in danger for now.
Pointing her gun up, she started to slowly walk to the kitchen. Once she arrived there, she turned on the lights and when she saw who was waiting for her, she growled. Fucking shit, now? Couldn’t this happen tomorrow for Christ’s sake? All Aurora wanted was her bed to sleep for more than four hours. That’s all she asked. However, it seemed that life just hated her.
“Hello little sister.”
Yes, her big brother was the one waiting for her. She had even forgotten that he had a copy of her keys. In which moment did she think that doing that would be a good idea? My God. Even geniuses like her could be really stupid when they wanted.
He was just the same as he was two years ago, the last time she had seen him. Dirty, messed up and probably wasted.
“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you going to ask me for money? Please. Get out of here, Chris. Now.” she demanded, still with her gun in her hand.
They never had a good relationship. Due to the fact that Aurora was what people would classify as a genius, her brother envied her from a young age. She was always the perfect little miss, and she knew that he hated that. The one that made her parents proud, the example.
So, he started to bully her since she was fourteen. Made her go through hell with his friends until she finally decided to abandon the house after her parents died in an accident four years ago. Aurora hated him. She had always wanted the big brother that took care of her, that protected her. Yet, that was not what life had given her. At least, not with blood.
“My, my. That’s how receive your big brother?” he got up and Aurora gave a step back. She didn’t know the type of damage that her brother could cause in this state. He was clearly drunk and probably drugged as well. That image of him made her eyes tear a bit. Why did he have to be like this? Why couldn’t he keep being the sweet big brother he was when she was little?
“Please, Chris. Just get out. Do both of us a favour. I don’t want to make a scene.” she was practically begging. Although, her brother just laughed. Laughed at her face. And kept walking closer and closer, until she had her caged like a pray.
“Little sister, you know I don’t take orders from you.” Tequila. His breath was easy to recognize and due to how dilated his pupils where, he was probably high in marijuana. He had been an addict since their parents died, it was not something weird, but this made him even more dangerous that what he already was when he was sober.
“Get out of my house, Christian. I won’t repeat myself.” she had expected many things. Screams, things throw, but not a punch. In her face.
He punched her straight in her right cheek, making her stumble and fall to the floor. She bite her lip, not letting the cry of pain out and got up right away. It hurt like a bitch, but she was not about to show any type of weaknesses in front of him. Without hesitation, she hit her brother in the face and kicked him, making him fall directly into the sofa. There, he punched the boy a couple more of times, until she could stop considering him as a threat.
“I told you to get out. Now do it if you don’t want me to break your ribs, Christian. You know that I know how to do it and how to do it even more painful.” the boy snorted in her face, but finally got up and left the house, not before breaking some things she had in her house. When he finally got out, closing the door, Aurora let her wobbly legs fail and fell into the floor, becoming a mess of sobs.
She never asked for this. All that she wanted was to have a good family, to be accepted even if she was special. But what she got was death parents and an addicted brother who hated her. Fuck.
|||||||
It was not easy to hide a bruise in her face. It was always easier to hide bruises in literally every place, but in the face. This, sadly, was not the first time that something like that happened. The girl had already hidden her bruises several times.
Damn you Christian Leids.
Even if she was complaining, punches in the face never hurt that much. The worst ones were in the stomach. God if she had broken ribs, so many times she couldn’t even try to count them.
Aurora had to use an insane amount of make up, so she just used a hat and tried to not look at the faces of the team, avoiding them as much as she could and doing everything she could alone. It was easier this way. She knew that they already know that obviously something was wrong, but maybe if she keep going like this, she could brush it later as just exhaustion.
However, she should have known that Derek was too fucking stubborn.
After capturing the UnSub, she didn’t have any other option than driving back to the airport in the same car as Derek. She kept her sight fixed in the window, refusing to look at him in any way. Of course, he got tired of this.
“Would you fucking look at me, Aurora?” he finally demanded when his patience quickly ran out. The girl bite the inside of her cheek, not wanting to talk.
“Why would you want me to look at you?” suddenly, he turned the car around and stopped it in the middle of the street in which they were. Aurora yelped due to the sudden reaction. “What the hell, Derek?”
“Look at me, Aurora. I’m not driving this car until you look at me.” the girl let out a couple of curses, until she finally sighed and decided to fulfil Derek’s demand. After all, she didn’t doubt the man’s words. He was not driving this car until she did that.
When she glanced at him, he softly grabbed her cheeks and the girl let out a groan of pain. Derek’s eyes darkened and he tilted her head to the left, looking straight at the bruise she tried to cover up the best that she could during the day.
“You tell me what happen, now.” He growled, driving the car to one of the sides of the rode, not standing in the middle of it anymore. Aurora rolled her eyes, but felt somehow, grateful with his clear concern. It always felt good to know that they worried about her, it felt as if she had someone in her life. Because outside her team, she truly didn’t have anyone.
“I’m okay.” the man just raised his eyebrows. When the girl refused to talk for a couple more of seconds again, he gritted his teeth.
“Who did this to you, Aurora? Don’t make me go to Hotch.”
“You are going to Hotch anyway.” she knew that it was true. Derek had this instinct of taking care of the younger ones and he never hesitated to go to talk to their boss when the situation demanded this. The man in front of her clenched his jaw.
“Yes, I will. So, either way I’m going to find out what happened. You tell me know or I find out when you tell the rest of the team.” her relationship with her brother was never something that she really wanted to share, even if somehow it was important. It always made her feel so much shame and besides that, she never found the ideal situation to tell her team that her brother was a horrible human being.
Aurora sighed, knowing that she didn’t have much of a choice here.
“Fine, okay, you win.” Derek was still looking directly at her, expecting the answer he wanted. She bite her lip, nervous. What would his reaction be? She had never told anyone about this. He was going to be the first to find out about the little problems she had with her family. “I had a small fight with my brother. You should see him, really.” she tried to joke, yet Derek’s expression was anything but happy.
“Did you just say that your brother hit you?” he raised his eyebrows, his face twitching and Aurora just nodded, not knowing really how to handle the situation.
“We, obviously, don’t have the best relationship and well, let’s say that we had a disagreement, and it didn’t end well.” I mean, she knew that the situation was not normal, but for her it was.
“Aurora, you are telling me this as if this was a diary thing.” Aurora scratched her neck, grimacing. It wasn’t exactly a diary thing, but it wasn’t the first time that this happened.
“It’s not a diary thing, but I’m, I just I don’t have a good relationship with him. That’s it. We hate each other and it have always been like that.” the girl was brushing off the problem making it pretty obvious. It was so uncomfortable to talk about this and thank God, Morgan noticed. He just huffed out.
“This conversation is not over.”
|||||||
Aurora had hoped that Morgan would magically forget about this. Of course, he didn’t. After arriving to the airport and boarding the plane, the first thing that he did was asking for a first-aid kit.
“What? Why do you need it?” JJ asked him, frowning. Derek just raised his eyebrows and pointed his finger in Aurora’s direction. She rolled her eyes, showing him the middle finger. The blonde ignored the whole scene and walked in her direction, grabbing her face and noticing right away the ugly bruise in her cheek. “What the hell, Aurora?”
At her words, everyone turned around. The girl knew that the makeup had already disappear and her bruise could already be seen, so, she wasn’t surprised when they all got up at the same time, concern written in their faces.
Spencer was the one closer to her, as usual, so he was the first one that carefully grabbed her chin with one of his hands and tilted her head to the left, leaving the bruise at everyone’s sight.
“It seems pretty recent. Last night if I’m not mistaken.” his face was furrowed deeply in concern. He was looking at her with those puppy eyes that usually charmed people to do anything he wanted. Doing this, he managed to get Aurora to apologize.
“Sorry.” she mumbled. From the start she knew that it would be stupid to hid this from the team, but old habits hardly die. Spencer shook slowly his head, smiling at her, rubbing her left cheek softly. At his actions, her heartbeat increased, and she felt the blush covering her face.
“Who did this to you?” Hotch asked; he had his lip tight, and his eyebrows furrowed, glancing directly at her without moving his sight. Aurora swallowed, suddenly feeling more nervous than before. It was one thing to tell one person about her problems and it was another thing to tell the whole team. Noticing her feelings, Spencer angled her face to look at him.
“It’s okay, Aurora. We are not angry. You can trust all of us.” deep inside, she knew that they weren’t angry, but fuck. It was a difficult situation, alright? She had never been confronted with this topic and the girl didn’t know how to deal with it.
“Let’s just say that I, um, I have a big brother. And well, I never had a good relationship with him, we basically hate each other. He is a drug addicted since my parents died a couple of years ago and well, last night, he suddenly showed up at my apartment. He was, indeed, wasted and drunk. We had a little argument in which I tried to kick him out and out of the blue he hit me. Obviously, I hit him too after that a couple of times and I managed to get him out of my house.” when she finished talking, Spencer immediately grabbed her hands and he noticed how they were bruised as well. Nothing major, but they might need to be disinfected.
“Your brother?” Aaron asked with his eyebrows raised and Aurora just shuddered. Trying to make her problems seem less than what they were was something she got used to since a really young age. After some seconds more of pure silence, without saying anything JJ grabbed the quit and took out some cotton and the antiseptic.
“Emily, please bring the ice pack that’s in the fridge.” the woman softly took her hands and put the antiseptic in the bruises. Aurora had to hold a groan of pain, fuck, she had forgotten how much it burn. Observing her reaction, JJ bite her lip. “Sorry.”
Aurora chuckled, shaking her head.
“It’s nothing.” she mumbled, giving her a small smile.
“Is this something normal?” Reid asked after some time, while Aurora was applying herself the ice in the cheek, trying to make the swelling go down. Aurora blinked, confused. Then, she remembered the topic they were talking about. Oh.
In what sense normal? I mean, it didn’t happen every week, but it wasn’t the first time that she had to go through this. Rough childhood.
“I don’t think so.” stupid answer, she knew it from the moment it came out of her mouth.
“You don’t think so?!” Derek replied, widening his eyes and standing up.
“No, no, I mean, fuck.” she grumbled, rubbing her face. Once again, Reid started to pat slowly her arm, looking at her with that cute smile and those shining eyes.
“It’s okay.” he whispered, trying to calm her down. It worked, obviously. At the end of the day, Spencer was her anchor to earth.
“It’s not something that happens weekly if that’s the question. The last time I saw him was two years ago. It did happen more often that I would like to admit when I was younger, but well. Nothing I can do for that now.”
“You shouldn’t have gone through that, Aurora.” Hotch softly replied to her, his gaze full of empathy and, thank God, not pity.
“I know.” she whispered, forming a small smile in her face, trying to calm the rest of the team.
----------------
4.
When Aurora started to work for the BAU, getting kidnapped was not part of her list of to do things. Due to the risks of her work, she knew that it could happen, yet it was something that seemed so impossible.
Well, sometimes the impossible could be, instead, the improbable.
The case they were working was one in a million.
It started when woman began to disappear in LGBT clubs in New Jersey and then appeared in the forest dead, with clear marks of rape and violence. After it happened with four women, they decided to finally call the FBI.
The profile they gave was like this; a woman, probably between her 20s and 30s, extroverted and charming, good at talking and that could probably go unnoticed, lesbian but probably the people around her didn’t know.
They were right about everything, by the way.
When she was taken, they were investigating one of the forests they had found one of the victims. Aurora walked away a little from the rest, getting quickly lost. While she was trying to get some signal to call her team, something hit her in the head making her black out.
She woke up in what it seemed to be some kind of basement. During the pleasant trip her kidnapper took her, she remembered some pieces here and there. If she could focus enough, she could probably get the address of this house. It wasn’t a big town and they had already driven around the place for different motives. She knew her way.
Yet, it wasn’t easy. The concussion the woman left her didn’t help in the slightest. It was probably light, based in her symptoms. Feeling tired, foggy vision, the headache that felt as if her head was about to be split open, doziness, between other things. And, as if that wasn’t enough, she also felt a strong pain in her chest area every time she fucking breathed.
Broken rib. Concussion. Great. This couldn’t get any better, really.
“Well, hello there, love. You finally woke up!” holy fucking shit, what was the need of speaking that loud? She could feel her head literally beat, making her clench her jaw to resist the groan of pain. When her vision finally became cleared, she saw the woman for the first time.
Tall, probably twenty-five years old, brunette, blue eyes, sharp jaw, honestly if Aurora came across this woman in the street, she would probably think that she was a supermodel, not a fucking serial killer. She had this smirk in her face that showed clear superiority, standing 100% straight and looking down at Aurora.
She didn’t react. Instead, she choose to glare at the woman and then carefully inspect her surroundings. Clearly, she was tied up, sat in a chair in the middle of the room. Moving her wrists and toes was impossible based in how hard she had tied the knots of a thick brown rope. There were three computers in front of her and a camera was pointing directly at her, with the red light that indicated that it was on.
“Oh, you already noticed the camera. Of course, I didn’t expect anything less from an FBI agent. Say hello to your friends!” Aurora whipped her head around to observe the woman, her eyes widened, and eyebrows raised. Yet, she regretted moving too fast, action that made her whole-body tremble in pain. She hissed (thing that also hurt), but still looked directly at the woman.
“My friends?” her voice was raspy and the thirst she felt immediately became a problem. Based in her voice, her hunger and the light that came through the small windows, about ten hours happened between this moment and the moment she was kidnapped.
The woman, that she was about to nickname as Maniac, let out a laud laugh (that made her headache once again).
“Yes! Your friends! I’m broadcasting this to them! I’m sure that they are loving it.”
Stupid fucking mistake.
A plan was already forming quickly in her head, after finally being able to locate the house, she was in. Based in the number of turns, directions, how she could look at the sun, the trees she managed to observe and the house in front of this one, she got it. It was about twenty minutes away from the police station, and the street was Franklin, 291.
So, Reid and she had been best friends from the very first moment she entered the BAU; most of the times, they felt that the only ones that could understand them were each other. Trying to find a way of communicating that only them would interpret, the obvious idea was Morse Code.
Aurora, as the fanatic of languages she was, already knew how to speak it. It didn’t take too much for Reid to learn it and it became, somehow, their secret language. It could be a little bit childish, but God, how much she thanked that they had taken the time to do this.
After glancing at the camera and quickly looking away, she started to slowly and quietly, press her finger to the chair, praying that Reid would be capable of understanding was she was doing. It couldn’t be this easy, though.
“So, Aurora, that’s your name, right?” she just nodded, guessing that answering her would be the better option, still focused on the Morse Code. “As I guess that you already know, I enjoy a lot of hurting people. Are you ready to give a little show for your people?”
She finished. Franklin 291. Those were the words she spoke.
Please, please, let this work.
A sudden slap in her face made her gasp. She should have seen this coming, fuck.
|||||||||
“FUCK!” Derek hit the wall in front of him, rage shining through his eyes. The whole team was on edge; their youngest agent was kidnapped. One of their biggest fears became finally real. Garcia was doing everything she could to try to get the fucking address, but it was as if nothing was working for them.
It hurt to observe Aurora it such a weak state and it made them feel a desperation that horrified them; it was a sensation that they never wanted to feel again.
Spencer had tears in his eyes. His chest was close, and it hurt to breath. However, that was not important. Not right now. Not when his girl was about to be tortured in front of them and none could do absolutely anything.
That was, until he noticed how Aurora quickly glanced at the camera and then glanced back at the woman. Blinking, he observed how she started to move silently her fingers and when he understood what she was doing, he let out a yelp.
“GIVE ME SOMETHING TO WRITE!” the team jumped at the sudden scream, but Emily reacted and gave him some paper with a pencil she had at hand from Penelope.
.._. / ._. / ._ / _. / _._ / ._.. /.. / _.
.._ _ _ / _ _ _ _ . / . _ _ _ _
“Franklin 292. That’s the address. THAT’S THE ADDRESS!” they didn’t question him. Right away, Hotch started to yell instructions and they all ran.
||||||||||
“ANSWER ME” Maniac yelled, spitting in her face and she nodded.
“YES! Yes, yes.” the fear was starting to grow inside her, suddenly getting how dangerous this situation was. Focusing so much in analysing the whole scenario, she didn’t realize that the worst part was right in front of her. Maniac had killed woman, raped them getting off in hurting them.
And she was probably about to do the same with her.
Panic started to fill her chest and her breath became quicker, thing that made her pain in the chest became even worst.
The slap made her dizzy, her sight whiting out. When she came back, the woman already had a knife with her, and the psychopath smile she wore made Aurora gulp. She was strong as fuck and she was pretty sure she could take her out in a fight, but like this? Weak was a small word to describe how she felt.
“So, let’s begin.”
Aurora already knew how this was going to go. The woman kept the same MO for very victim, and she doubted that this was going to be any different. The first wounds were always the same; two large cuts in the thighs, one in each one. Neither of them was too deep, avoiding the risk of the victim bleeding out.
When she finished, she made some cuts in the face of the victim and then, the next step was the rape. They had found some random haematomas, probably a result of making the UnSub angry. It wouldn’t be really smart to anger the woman, but now, Aurora understood the victims.
The first cut made her grunt in pain, yet she refused to show any sign of pain. She kept a straight face, looking directly at the woman, with her jaw clench. That seemed too unsatisfied her since the next cut was a little bit deeper and she dragged the knife slower, searching to have a better reaction.
Aurora wasn’t planning on giving her that. And she knew that doing this, she was starting to make Maniac losing her patience.
The punch should come at any time now.
“Fuck you.” she gasped, refusing to look anywhere that it wasn’t her kidnapper’s eyes.
And, yes, she was right. Eight seconds after (blame Spencer for sticking to her the mania of always keeping the exact track of time), the woman hit her straight in the face. This time, she couldn’t hold the moan of pain.
Her breath inched and fucking shit, she didn’t know that a broken nose could hurt this much. Her eyes were teary and her whole body was shaking. Even though she felt weaker than never, Aurora gather the saliva with the blood in the mouth and spite in the face of the woman, thing that made her laugh.
“Oh, how much I love when they are nasty.”
Then, she proceeded to grab her jaw and slowly started to cut her left cheek. Without being able to hold it, she let out a cry, tears falling from her eyes. When she finished with the cut, after looking directly at it for one or two minutes, still with a creepy smile in her face, she left the knife in the floor and Aurora gulped, the need to throw up increasing every moment it went through.
Maniac took the buttons of her shirt and started to slowly undo them.
“NO!” she screamed and kept screaming the same word, probably hurting her vocal cords, moving her whole body as much as she could, desperation totally filling her instincts. This couldn’t happen, no. Please. “PLEASE, STOP!” her sobs were totally broken and hearing her, the only reaction she got was a laugh.
Before she could keep actually going with this torture, they both heard some noise upstairs. At first, Aurora didn’t notice, until she saw how the smile in the woman’s face was whipped out.
“IN HERE!” she couldn’t remember a time in her life in which she had screamed so fucking loud. The woman didn’t have any time to react; one second, she was panicking and the next, they were throwing her door down.
“FBI! GET AWAY FROM HER AND PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOU HEAD!” surprisingly, she did it immediately. Aurora couldn’t hold the low laugh that left her. So, after all, she was actually just a fucking coward.
“Coward.” she gasped out, regretting it quickly after feeling how much it hurt to fucking talk. She coughed, spitting blood.
“Aurora.” Morgan was the first one that looked at her. His face made Aurora felt sick; he gave the impression that he didn’t get any sleep any time soon, dark bags decorated his eyes. Hotch didn’t seem to be any different, just like Emily and Spencer. She couldn’t blame them, knowing how the situation was looking. Aurora probably had her face full of blood, her thigs the same.
They unleashed her and for the first time in hours, she felt the blood rushing through her wrist and toes. Sighing, she tried to get up. However, her legs failed, and she almost fell down, if it wasn’t for Derek; not a surprise, he had the quickies reflexes between all of them. However, when he grabbed her, she fell into an immediate panic.
“NO! DON’T TOUCH ME!” she tried to get away from the hold, cries leaving her mouth.
“AURORA! Please, it’s me. Derek, Derek Morgan! You’re okay, you’re safe.” when she finally recognized the voice, she relaxed after letting out a sob out of relief.
“WE NEED AN AMBULANCE!”
“Aurora, hey, hey.” now that the adrenaline was going down, she started to actually feel the consequences of the wounds and her light concussion. Yet, when she heard how worried Spencer’s sounded, she tried her best to focus on the boy. “Rora, we need to know your wounds.” she didn’t really understand him, all she could think about was that they found her thanked to him.
“You understood.” she said with her raspy and trembling voice. Trying what he could to calm her down, Spencer took her hands in his and smiled in her direction.
“Yes, yes, of course I did, love. But I need you to focus for me, alright?” blinking, she just nodded. “Okay, that’s good. What hurts, Aurora? What’s wrong?”
Everything hurt. She couldn’t answer that, obviously, so doing the best she could, she tried to find the worst wounds and remember which ones hurt the most.
“I think I have a slight concussion, probably a broken rib. She punched me in the face, broken nose and lip. Two cuts in my thighs, large but neither of them deep. And one in the cheek-” before she could keep going, she let out a gasp and grabbed her stomach, yelping in pain. Her sobs made everything worst.
The following moments were pretty unclear for her. She probably blacked out and back several times. When she finally woke up, Aurora noticed that she was, thank God, in a fucking hospital instead of that goddamn basement. And the whole team was sleeping in the same room as here.
She smiled, feeling a warm sensation spread through her chest. Knowing them, this was probably the first time they actually slept in days. The team had already gone through this with Spencer once, even remembering those days hurt; she couldn’t imagine the desperation they had to go through.
“Aurora, you are awake.” Hotch was the first one to notice, opening his eyes some minutes later probably hearing her move. Aurora grimaced.
“Sorry for waking you up.” he immediately shook his head. After she talked, all of them woke up; hearing her must be the thing that made them react. They all jolted up, getting up from the places they were sleeping, Hotch, Emily and Spencer in a coach, Derek from the floor.
“Pretty girl.” he mumbled, sprinting in her direction and taking her hands in his. She smiled, trying to make him feel less worried.
“You all saved my life. Thank you.” it still bothered her to speak. However, she couldn’t hold this. She needed to thank them.
“Don’t talk. We know it hurts. You were right, you have a broken rib.” Spencer replied right away.
||||||
Hotch let her take some days off after the event. When she went back, everything felt normal once again. Or at least, she was trying her best to making it look normal. But her nightmares and panic was becoming worse over the days and her ability to hide it had a limit, as everything did.
It was the third day in a row that she only got hours to sleep. She was barely surviving on a basis of coffee and the sleep she could get in the plane. Every day it became more difficult to close her eyes and fall in sleep; every time she fucking tried, she woke up screaming, feeling the woman’s hands all over her body.
And the team was begging to notice. She had it coming, after all she worked with fucking profilers. It was impossible for them to not notice, even with that promise of not profiling each other.
“Aurora.” Spencer spoke and she turned around. He was glancing at her with a face full of concern and probably slightly judging the fact that this was her, fourth? Or fifth coffee, she couldn’t really remember.
“Spencer! Hi! Do you need something?” even if she tried to mask her weariness, she was probably doing a disaster of a job because fuck, she was even tired by the mere thought of keeping this act going on.
And her theory was confirmed by the look on Spencer’s face.
“Can we talk for a little bit?”
Aurora wanted to say no. She wanted to refuse, to answer him that there was nothing they needed to talk about, but she knew that those things were lies.
“Fine.”
She followed him until they arrived in one room, where the whole team was, probably waiting for them. Aurora frowned, tensing her shoulders. She didn’t like how this seemed, as if they were planning to do this without her knowledge.
“Aurora, we are going to be straightly blunt here. We know that you are not sleeping well. Let us help you to find a solution.” As always, Hotch went directly to the point, as expected. Aurora liked that; like that, she didn’t become so nervous before somebody finally talked.
She sighed, sitting down in one of the chairs and stayed in silence for a few minutes.
They waited.
“Alright, yes. I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see her, and I wake up screaming. After that, I usually can’t fall sleep again, terrified that if I do, I will have to see her face again.” Aurora finally admitted aloud what was happening to her. Their eyes showed a mix of pity and sadness.
Derek was the first one to get up, kneeling in front of her, taking the girl’s hands.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” he softly asked, with his eyebrows raised. She sighed, shaking her head.
“I didn’t want to bother anyone.”
“You could never bother us, Aurora.” Emily immediately replied and everyone in the room quickly agreed. Her eyes became teary, asking herself what she did to deserve such a warm and welcoming family.
Growing up, it was always hard to fall apart since everyone always expected her to be perfectly fine, since she was indeed, the perfect girl. Yet, the number of breakdowns she had were countless. Aurora always had to suffered them alone, so, she became used to be comforted only by herself. And it was hard to admit that maybe, only maybe, she didn’t have to keep suffering these kinds of things alone.
“You didn’t have them while we were staying with you, right?” Hotch asked. The first week after they realised her from the hospital, everyone on the teams took turns to help her with simple things she couldn’t do and to keep her company, due to the fact that Aurora seemed terrified by the thought of being alone.
After she returned to work though, she told them that she would be fine and that they had already done enough for her. A clear mistake.
“No, I didn’t.” Aurora murmured, blushing. Hotch nodded and got up.
“Alright, we will do this; we are going to take turns to go to Aurora’s house every night.” Before she could talk, Hotch shook his head. “I will not take a no as an answer, Aurora. We are going to do this; you like it or not.” The tone of his voice didn’t let anything up to discussion, so Aurora sighed, knowing that she didn’t have any other option.
“Fine. Thank you, guys, really. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
-------------------------------
5.
Comments about her age weren’t exactly uncommon. There were a lot of people who absolutely hated (or envied) the fact that at such a young age, she was a successful agent working for the FBI. It was something that they always complaint about with Spencer.
Today, the comment made went too far.
They were working in a case about kidnappings, in which none of the ten victims were found; they had a few leads and the only thing they had to confirm that this was actually happening was a series of videos left from the UnSub, where all the victims appeared in some dark room, all of them blindfolded, repeating the exact same words.
The problem was that they weren’t greatly received by the local police in Alexandria, Washington DC. Glares were always thrown in their direction; even the Head Police doubted every fucking word they said, questioning with the typical “Profiles just guess.” Ridiculous behaviour, if they asked Aurora, but whatever.
The worst part was while they were giving the profile.
“You’re looking for a man, probably in his early thirties, white, introverted, usually terrified of the action of talking to people. You will never find him in big events, he hates big crowds.” as usual, Hotch started, with his serious face.
“He loves watching his victims suffer and enjoys noticing how much power he has over them, yet he doesn’t want them to see him, afraid that they would probably laugh if they saw who kidnapped them.” Emily went on. Aurora could already see a few police men looking at each other, disbelief writing all over their faces and she rolled her eyes.
“Based in the little we heard from him, he’s from here, local. He knows his way and the victims, probably lived in Alexandria his whole life.” in cases like this, when they said that the UnSub was local, they never believed them. And obviously, this couldn’t be the expetion.
 “Impossible. I’ve known this people my whole life, this man can’t be from here.” Mike, the Head of the Police, immediately disagreed. He had been acting pretty rude to them since they arrived, to the point in which Derek asked Hotch ´Why the hell did he ask for our help if he doesn’t believe a word that we say? ´
Needless to say, Aurora totally agreed with him.
“We heard his accent; we are totally sure that he’s from here. Besides, it’s impossible for an outsider to know these streets so well.” Aurora calmly answered him. Nevertheless, Mike didn’t take her input nicely.
“And what the hell would you know about? You should be in fucking college, I asked for the FBI, no for a teenager that dares to tell my business and question how my people are.” for a moment, the girl stayed silent, too stoned to even react to his words. What the fuck?
It was the first time in her whole life that someone talked so bluntly at her in front of her collages. I mean, yes, some officers made comments when they were alone because they were cowards who didn’t dare to say anything in front of Hotch, but in front of so many people? Never.
Before anyone from her squad could react, she stood up and walked in his direction, stopping when she was in front of him. She glanced at him from head to toes and smiled.
“You’re divorced. Recently. Probably not more than two weeks. You have two children, a daughter, and a son. Right now, the kids are probably with the mother, since you look at your phone every five minutes waiting for updates. Your son probably plays football, and you are always supporting him, because it’s your frustrated dream. You had to stop due to some kind of major injure, something with your leg based in how you limp when you’re too tired. You love control, that’s why you know every little detail about your employees; you always want to know how they are, where they are. Lately, you are not having your best performance here and you’re probably under a threat of being suspended. I suspect it is due to your divorce. You were born in Texas, but moved out when you were a kid. Still have a light accent. You wear more clothes to appear bigger and more intimidating and a fake gold necklace to appear richer.” he was glancing at her with wide eyes and Aurora smirked, getting a little bit closer to the man. “I gathered all that information with a few looks at you and your office. Don’t ever doubt our job again, this is what we’re the best at.”
After a few seconds of silence, the man gave a step forward, probably ready to get a little bit handier with her based in his balling fists, heavy breathing and jaw tensed in pure rage. Before he could make it too far, Hotch immediately put himself in front of her and putting a hand in the man’s chest, he made him back up. Meanwhile, Spencer grabbed her by the arm and put her behind him, with Derek and Emily at their side with their arms crossed.
“You don’t ever talk to one of my agents like that again, Mr. Bruins. I am clear?” the anger was clear in Hotch’s voices. There weren’t many times in which the man got this angry, even if it seemed weird with his strict personality. He actually had a lot of patience. Yet, with that patience disappear, you better run.
“Yes, sir.” the man huffed out, almost trembling and Aurora couldn’t resist the smile that formed in her face. How much she loved making men get crazy over a few words.
"When am I gonna stop being wise beyond my years and just start being wise? When am I gonna stop being a pretty young thing to guys? When am I gonna stop being great for my age and just start being good? When will it stop being cool to be quietly misunderstood?"
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lunarharp · 3 months
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more phoenix wright situations
#ace attorney tag#maybe i should tag this narumitsu or something. but i dont really care.#gearing up to rereading/illustrating bits of my fic i suppose...i think nick really is too dense to realise he's in love with edgeworth#without some scheming fop trying to intrude. i love villains like kristoph..villains can be fun..witnessing their pathetic folly..#or more like edgeworth would never have mentioned his feelings ever in his life if he wasn't sure phoenix reciprocates.#i want to see it this way because Falling in love during childhood with the person you're going to end up with. is not relatable#there have to be Situations that make you Realise.#as with orufrey i adore the idea of people not working out their romance with that person until their 30s+#but... i mean. even with orufrey i often think how alaira could be qifrey's ex. and oru having been pursued by noble fops through his work#there is that delicate sliver of time before orufrey start living together that such believable situations could have happened.#Then the relief of politely and amicably extricating themselves from those untenable situations#the idea of falling in love age 7 and saving your first kiss for age 35 or something is all very well but more relatable is#people realising how they really feel whilst trying something that ends up feeling wrong.#The comfort and joy of living with your dearest one as if it's platonic - much preferable to trying anything more with anyone else.#But i doubt i will ever portray that or mention it further. it is indeed very delicate to me.#and i really am an OTP FOR LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! kind of person who can barely bear to consider this anyway...NOT a polyshipper i'm afraid !#so i wouldn't mind either if they do have their first kiss in their lives age 35 with each other either. I would not mind that at all.#i love bi/gay couples apparently... bi father figures & their grumpy gay men waiting for them to work it all out...#not used to using colour in comic-style drawings..or at all..so this is messy and awkward looking..but colour is refreshing#i imagine i will go back to witch hat art soon btw. my destiny in life.#i still remember writing my nrmt fic expecting to write their first kiss & then partway through twas like Umm No. They have kissed prior.#does that really line up with this comic though... i think i had their early dinner dates/first kiss BEFORE disbarment.#so i guess this comic doesn't line up with my ficverse.... No..... U___U Oh well. sorry kris! <3
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aroaceleovaldez · 1 year
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Every description about Nico (especially the canon ones) describing him as “cold” can personally fight me. Nico is jaded, yes, and often closed-off and sometimes stand-offish and defensive but he is not "cold”. He cares SO SO SO MUCH about EVERYONE. He loves and cares with his entire heart constantly and that is a core part of his character. He doesn’t often make public shows of his affection but he takes care to be kind when it matters and doesn’t hide that he does care (usually, the only exception really being him being in the closet, but even then he only hid his crush specifically and not the fact that Percy is important to him). He fine with hugging his friends in front of a crowd and will sit with strangers at a campfire just so they’re not alone. I mean, heck, he’s an extrovert! We know this! He actively seeks out people and gets lonely very quickly and easily! If he can’t talk to living people he will chat with the dead! That’s how much he thrives on being social!
The only time Nico has ever been actively “cold” was the couple of months between TTC and BoTL when he was actively mourning Bianca. Nico is not “cold.” He loves so much and he does show it, just in his own way.
#pjo#riordanverse#nico di angelo#analysis#brought to you by: I saw a blurb for TSATS that said something like ''Will melted through Nico's icy heart/cold exterior''#and it made me want to tear something apart with my teeth because of how Blatantly Incorrect that is#like that is a disservice to both their characters.#a.) Will did not ''fix'' Nico or ''change'' him or anything. He is just a source of joy in Nico's life#TOA even explicitly acknowledges that them dating did not ''fix'' Nico and that Nico is actively getting outside help for his trauma/etc#and b.) Nico is not cold!!! He has never been a cold person!!! there's a reason ''emo'' is short for ''emotional!''#Nico's character is ENTIRELY DRIVEN BY LOVE AND CARE FOR OTHER PEOPLE#yes he's jaded but he's only jaded in a way of being afraid of letting people into his life because he's afraid to lose them#not that it stops him because it sure does keep happening anyways because SURPRISE. HE LOVES TOO MUCH.#HE LITERALLY CANNOT HELP HIMSELF HE LOVES PEOPLE SO STRONGLY AND SO DEEPLY HE CANNOT STAY JADED ABOUT IT#he just keeps going ''Okay *THIS* time I won't let this person into my life to risk heartbreak- AW FUCK I'VE DONE IT AGAIN''#SO MUCH of his character is entirely driven by ''I care about people. I dont want them to suffer what i have suffered or suffer at all''#like really the only times we ever see Nico being actively angry/snappy at people#is like a.) He is either actively being majorly hurt or has just recently been majorly hurt (Bianca's death. Being outed. etc)#b.) Someone is hurting others is going to bring harm to others (Calling out his dad in TLO. Killing Bryce)#or c.) Someone is doubting or calling into question his lived experiences (Basically any scene where people say he's pushing people away)#other than that Nico actually tends to give people way more lenience than necessary. he will put up with a LOT#and he won't even call people out on it or hold a grudge about it (i see you alleged Nico's fatal flaw. you're wrong)#unless it's like. something A Lot Of People Do Often (ex: push him away/exclude him/etc)#at which point he might be like. mildly upset about it but not much more then that. which is just a normal measured response.#anyways Nico's not cold he's just autistic
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