#there were barely any behind the scenes moments like most of the footage they used you could watch on yt for free

[hyunnie]

man the svt movie was fun and all but like...it was such an obvious cash grab like there really was no point in making this

#the story they weaved together was so lackluster #the interview questions were bland #there were barely any behind the scenes moments like most of the footage they used you could watch on yt for free #they just played the concert and we didnt even get the fun parts where they talk and stuff #and the sentimental shit seemed so cheesy #like the interviews seemed so staged #and transitions were so...randomly put together #it's like they tried so hard to make this sentimental story around a concert that wasn't super sentimental #plus junhao were barely in this movie so like whats the point

[saiqherrr]

.pairing satoru gojo x fem!reader

.setting college au

.content warning smut, nsfw, angst???, degradation kink, overstimulation, slapping kink, unprotected sex, cumming inside, cheating

.synopsis you swear that you're different - that you can "change" satoru gojo.

.a/n this is unfinished but i wanted this out my drafts. i have had zero motivation to write lately. this also has not been proofread. bleh. enjoy

NOT TRUE. NOT TRUE. you rubbed your hand on the side of your neck, absentmindedly looking down at your notebook that was filled with poorly written scrabbles of notes, words you could just barely imbibe from today’s lecture. you masked your irritation while two girls shamelessly whispered gossip about your boyfriend. why should it bother you if you knew it wasn’t true? because you knew that a good portion of what they were blabbering about was true.

you weren’t necessarily a shy girl, you knew a lot of people on campus from high school. for the most part you were quiet and minded your business, however, that changed after you notoriously flashed your busty bosoms at a frat party while your system was buzzed with alcohol. that was the night satoru gojo took you home. it was by luck that you committed such a sinful act on a night where satoru really couldn’t be bothered with desperate girls flocking on him. on any other night, he’d meander around the party, letting girls approach him and kiss up to him. he’d pick a spunky, sober girl from the flock and take her up to a room that didn’t belong to them, and fuck her - just for him to forget her name the next morning.

this night was different. he had a long day and he was surprised he had the energy to come to the party in the first place. he felt embarrassed for you when you got up on that table, slurring your words and waving your shirt in the air before you unclasped your bra, the frat house erupting with screams, chants, yelling and shouting. he couldn’t bear to see you like that and it bothered him that he even cared. he had no particular reason to. but his body moved on it’s own when he walked over to that anything-but-sturdy table and grabbed you, ending the show that everyone was rooting for. he slung you over his shoulder, taking up your shirt and bra before he found the nearest bathroom.

he took you back to his own apartment he was renting nearby, letting you sleep on the couch with a small blanket that just barely covered your feet and one small throw pillow was placed underneath your head. he left a mop bucket by the couch, anticipating that you’d be facing a mean hangover the next morning. he was glad he trusted his gut with that one because after he woke up the next morning to use the bathroom, he could hear you gagging and then regurgitating  everything you ingested the day before.

after he took care of you that day, you thanked him endlessly. you were eternally grateful that he took time out his day to even do such a generous thing. it was out of character for him to do something like that, too, but you didn’t know at the time.

you don’t know how you ended up where the two of you were now, but all you know is that you fully smitten by him during those first two weeks you guys had first met. the two of you went out on a couple of dates, spent the night at his place a couple of times and eventually...you guys were having sex. so much fucking sex. he whispered appraisal in your ear every time he got the chance to bury himself balls deep in your tight pussy. he was rough, yet his words came out as soft as ever to you, stirring up all kinds of mushy feelings and affection from him.

it only took one post on satoru’s instagram - that one picture of you in his apartment, smiling at yourself in the bathroom mirror as he stood behind you, kissing your cheek while he snapped the photo. it was posted in the early morning with the a simple, but meaningful caption: ain’t she special? one post confirmed something for, not only everyone else, but for you as well; he was in love with you.

it, of course, came as a shock to your peers on campus. satoru was infamous for being a player and a sex addict. even you, at one point, had make an ancient joke about how satoru couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. being held down by anyone wasn’t a common thing for him at all. the confirmation of your relationship with him only caused people to question if all of it was a facade.

you questioned it yourself sometimes. but then you’d oddly be ashamed in yourself for doing so. he told you he loved you out the blue, took you out for fancy dinners, wasn’t ashamed to mention you to his friends and almost annoyingly professed his love to you in public spaces and online. he loved you. you knew he loved you.

keeping his words in your mind was enough to protect your mind from getting hurt by reality. you were blind to the small love marks that weren’t given to him by you. you were deaf to the sound of satoru sweet-talking a girl on the phone, assuming you were asleep, when you were really wide-awake. you suddenly had anosmia whenever he’d come back to the apartment smelling like cheap perfume. you ignored it all subconsciously and it was starting to catch up to you.

you were clearly aware of satoru’s behavior before becoming official with him, but since he had treated you with so much tlc, you figured you would be the turning point in his life. you believed that he’d change now that he had such a smart, respectable, sexy, and compliant girl by his side. he didn’t need anyone else, right? wrong. you were not his turning point. you were simply another climax in his life, a feeling you gave him every time your pussy clamped down on his cock, except, he got to feel that from you more often than others. that’s how other people looked at it.

in two weeks it’d make a year since the two of you started dating. a full year of this? maybe he was in love in with you, but just because he was, it didn’t mean it got rid of his urges. so that’s why you were trying to ignore the chattering behind you right now. you know you couldn’t be mad. you knew satoru was a fucking sleeze.

“throw it back on me baby, you know i don’t like doing all the work.” satoru's vainglorious words sent blazes of warmth to run everywhere on your body. your hands held the sheets underneath you as you shook your body to and fro, shivering each time your skin connected with his. his throbbing cock kissed your cervix and massaged your pulsating walls. you were recovering from an orgasm that you had moments before, juice running down your legs, but satoru fucked you through, bringing you close to overstimulation.

you wanted to tell him it was too much, but he had your own, soaked panties in your mouth, causing you to be quite inaudible. so many reasons to be uncomfortable yet you adored and wanted the entire. the fully body mirror that was across from you reflected the pornographic scene and felt yourself getting aroused all over again from the sight. drool dribbled from your mouth, tears rolling down your cheeks, satoru’s strained face. it only motivated you to go faster, milking his cock with your cunt eagerly.

satoru reached beside him, getting his cell phone and lazily opened up the camera app. he happily recorded the way you ricocheted your full ass on him, holding it and smacking it multiple times. once he was happy with the footage he had, he threw it phone to the side and he reaches around and takes the lacy material from your mouth, causing you to hack uncontrollably and lick your dry lips. he proceeded to grab your hips, digging crescent shaped dents into your skin. he pulled you to him, fucking you like he had gone batshit crazy.

he had you blabbering nonsense now that your mouth wasn’t restrained, but he managed to hear you say “’s too much!” and you stammered while moaning his name.

“too fucking bad. hold out just a bit longer, you weak slut,” he growled. “fuck...” you were reaching your high again, legs shaking viciously before they gave out and you imploded on your stomach on the bed. it didn’t stop him from ramming into you over and over again. you were so compliant to him. the way he fucked you was intoxicating. he made you crave sex more than you ever did in your life. “cum again for me baby, i’ll come with you.”

with both of your eyes screwed shut, you clenched around his slobbered cock, stomach convulsing violently and came hard. you practically screamed his name like you had no fucking sense. it’s because you didn’t. your psyche had gone clear and your body was numb. you couldn’t even process that satoru had came as well, rubbing excess semen in between your ass cheeks, watching strings of your release and his own drip from your gaping hole. he turned you around so that you were on your back and brought his hand, slapping you hard against your cheek, bringing you back to your senses.

“don’t scream like that again. y’lost your fucking mind,” he threatens you in a low, aggressive tone before snickering. he grabbed your delicate bosoms tenderly, scouring your stiff, aching areolas. you gasped intensely while sweat moved down your face, eyes half-lidded. he sucked your nipples graciously, running wet circles around them with his tongue. his ivory locks of hair tickled your skin, you bring your hand to run your fingers through it. he brought his lips to the space in between your breasts, sucking feverishly on your soft flesh until he could see visible marks form, leaving his mark on you.

“did i...did i do good...?” you breathed out, closing your eyes.

you felt his warm lips leave your skin and he chuckled softly before kissing you tenderly. “yes, yes you did. you did so well.” he was proud of himself for taming you, making you so docile to him. you were strong-willed and independent outside of the bed so seeing you lie here so pathetic under his gaze, losing yourself because of his touch was a sight to see. he felt lucky to have you...

you were truly such a beautiful girl. as embarrassed as he was for you when he first saw you flashing to all those people at that frat party, he silently admitted to himself that you looked fucking hot. if you weren’t so drunk that night he probably would’ve fucked you. he got his wish...eventually.

if anyone ever asked satoru why he has stayed with you for so long, he wouldn't have the option to offer an unmistakable response. whenever he was asked, he gave them a straightforward, “i love her.” he couldn’t quite understand how or what you did, but you allure him in a way no other person can. you unknowingly had him wrapped around your finger. he didn’t mind being tied down by you. well, that’s because he wasn’t entirely “tied down.” it was no secret that he sneaked around with other girls on campus, but what other option did he have? he was an addict. he couldn’t go a fucking day without burying himself in someone’s cunt - or someone’s ass, or getting his dick sucked by some whore after class. he couldn’t fuck you everyday. he didn’t want to use you for that purpose. you surprisingly meant something to him. he hoped all the warm gestures he gave you was enough to prove he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

#gojo satoru #SatoruGojo #gojo smut #gojo imagine #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo simp #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojou satoru x you #satoru gojo #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic

[gesternchen]

7 Details You May Have Missed in Avatar (2009)

Avatar is undeniably one of the most beautiful, colorful, and immersive movies in cinematography, made with a lot of work put into details and backgrounds. In this short post I’d like to touch upon a couple of details that the audience and I myself may have missed when watching the movie for the first time or even rewatching it later on. If you noticed any of them before or could come up with some other, then let me know, it’d be entertaining to read what you guys think. Just a tiny disclamer: a couple of the details were found within the scenes from the extended cut, so make sure you’re familiar with it.

Number 1: Logo on Jake’s Shirt

The bar scene was initially edited out from the original cut, but was later added in the director’s one. Here we can spot Jake wearing a shirt with a logo, which anyone would barely notice. What this logo is about, is the Harley-Davidson Motor Company primarily renowned for manufacturing internationally worshiped motorbikes. Besides it supplied the U. S. Army during World War II. Marines used HD motorbikes with great pleasure back then. The company itself survived a long story of ups and downs, so it’s nice to see it still exists in 2148. The fact that Jake wears this shirt suggests that he may keep it as a piece of merch. It‘s also possible that he was keen on bikes when he was younger (God knows, maybe he still is), namely iconic Harley-Davidson‘s ones. Or he may have even ridden one.

Number 2: Sign of Jake’s Further Employment Behind the Agents’ Backs

Okay, I know it’s just a good timing, but believe me or not, it fits the moment really perfectly. The words 'work contract' emerging behind the agents’ backs almost forecast Jake being offered to sign a contract allowing him to join the Avatar Program.

Number 3: Omaticaya Are Actually Weaving

Over the years Omaticaya have been reproached with not having weaved enough. Partly, I agree, they don’t weave enough in the movie, since it’s a clan of WEAVERS producing one of a kind textiles (even 11 years after it feels like a joke that Grace Augustine portrayed by Sigourney Weaver formed the strongest bonds with the Omaticaya). Still, some footage of the clan members engaged in this activity was provided in the scene when Grace is back to the tribe after a while to meet her students. The scene also features the prominent giant loom of the clan!

Number 4: A Hexapede’s Skull?

Ever noticed a skull over Grace’s and Jake’s heads? Me too, but the question is, what animal does it belong to? The only closest one I can think of is hexapede — the skull’s shape is pretty similar. But guess what, hexapede doesn’t seem to have horns! Were the bones taken from another animal and then tied to the skull? Are these giant fangs? Claws? Pandorapedia doesn’t seem to have given us the answer yet.

Number 5: Grace is Picked Up by the Same Kids She Taught in School

One of the most heartwarming moments of the entire movie for me. Of course, it would be hard for you to come to such a conclusion by identifying the kids’ faces if you haven’t watched the extended cut, as the scene of Grace chatting with her students has been edited out from the original movie. What is also significant about this scene is the fact that five of them survived the fall of the Hometree except for only one, and it makes me sad. They must have found Grace right after the tragic event and suggested that she should stick to them and follow them on the way from the burning site.

Number 6: Golf Ball Display Case in Parker’s Office??

It seems like there are more trophies on the wall in Parker’s administration than we got to know before. Obviously, he’s got a bow, a necklace, and a couple of arrows, all taken from a certain clan. What they mean to him and RDA is a bit of a mystery: the items may symbolize the connection of the RDA Science Department to the indigenous people of Pandora or have been taken by force. If we checked other pieces on the shelves behind Parker’s back, we’d spot some interesting stuff there: plenty of awards, a certificate, and a weird ball-like model in a case next to it. What for the certificate, it’s clear that it marks the accomplishments of RDA as the pioneer space development company (I can guess by the letters in bold very much resembing the logo of the corporation). But the use of the model still remains unknown. Is it just a model of Earth? Or it is a model of Pandora moon? What if it’s a silver golf ball trophy in a display case? This could make a very nice assumption. It would tell us a bit more about Parker’s background before he became RDA’s official or about his achievements in golf on Earth in course of running his business. This would explain him being more passionate about the game, rather than serving as another cliche character.

Number 7: Jake Wearing Tsu’Tey’s Attire

Don’t you guys find this detail concerning? I mean, nothing is clearly wrong about that, we know Jake was meant to lead the clan. The thing is, how come he put on Tsu’Tey’s attire so fast? The clan’s former leader seems to have passed out just a couple of days ago, is it okay for Jake to claim himself Olo’eyktan this quickly? Would Neytiri approve such initiative? Too many questions, very few answers. Of course, I assume that Jake may wear this festive attire in honor of Tsu’Tey, who actually himself delegated leadership duties to Jake. Still, all of this happening way more rapidly than I’d prefer it to happen bothers me a bit.

#avatar movie review #avatar 2009 #moviepost #avatar #jake sully #james cameron avatar #2009 film #neytiri #grace augustine #parker selfridge #tsu’tey #avatar movie #film review #gesternchen reviews #2009 movie #movie aesthetic #my favorite #film aesthetic #edit #my edit #avatar james cameron

[crowdedimagines]

Worse Days - Aaron Hotchner

The faint dripping of water pulls me back to reality. The same sploosh happening over and over. Minute after minute. I pull my eyes open blinking, forcing them to focus. The swaying back and forth, left to right, doesn’t help ease the dizziness I feel.

“Looks like your girl is finally up.”

I look around, searching for the source of the voice.

“Wake up, sunshine!” He finally sits in front of me, taking my head in his hand. His fingers are coarse and strong. He forces me to look him in the eyes, his grip tight on my cheeks. He tilts my head to the tripod over his shoulder. The red light on the camera blinks back at me.

“Smile for the camera.”

This is not at all how today was supposed to go…

Twenty-Two Hours Ago.

“Alright, we’re looking at four women, murdered and found on the beach in Miami. All from different classes and backgrounds, but similar age groups” JJ hands us each our files.

“He takes them for three days, before brutally dismembering them. The morning of the fourth day, the woman is always found.”

“He takes risks. Each of these women were taken from high traffic areas.” I comment.

“There’s more.” Garcia suddenly takes over.

“He also sends a live feed to the family of the victim.” She reluctantly pulls it up on the TV, a live feed of the women pleading for their lives. Saying their goodbyes.

“He’s definitely a sexual sadist. He finds pleasure in knowing that families are watching their loved ones last moments.” I clear my throat, pulling my eyes away from the screen.

“That’s what he gets off on.” Derek agrees. “He likes knowing that there’s people in distress on the other end of the camera.”

“Wheels up in thirty.” Hotchner simply says before excusing us all.

As soon as we land we start the process to find the unsub. It begins with all of us splitting up and going to the scenes where the bodies were found. All of them were ditched on the beach, early morning before anyone was out.

We get nothing from the populated beaches other than sand in our shoes.

We sit down and look at the profile and determine the man is bold and try to analyze the footage we have from the previous victims. Penelope is trying to find any identifying marks from the videos to see where they come from. Based on the way he treats the bodies, we’ve determined he’s likely a white male in his early thirties. 

“It looks like they’re on a boat.” I say, we’ve been watching the videos on an endless loop. Trying to catch any new details. 

“The camera is steady.” Morgan argues, looking at the TV now too.

“But look at her hair, it’s moving when she’s not. It’s like the rocking of a boat.”

“It’s possible considering he’s ditching them on the beach.” Reid comments. 

“That’s why no one sees him dragging a body all across the beach. He already had them on a boat.” Ross puzzles together. 

“The most recent body was found this morning, that means he’s going to take his next victim tonight.” Morgan says.

“We should visit where each of the women were taken. Try and get an understanding of how he was able to do so in such populated areas.” Hoctchner announces, “Prentiss and Morgan, go to the grocery store where Hannah Lane was taken, Y/n and Spencer, go to the parking garage where Amy Bryant was abducted and Rossi and I will go to the last two locations.”

We all nod and go off in our separate directions. Spencer and I get in the car and drive to the parking garage where Amy was taken. We drive around until we reach the second level and get out.

“Even for a parking garage, it’s bold. It’s packed with cars on this level. Anyone could show up at any time.” I look around.

“You’re right, they could.” A voice calls out behind me before everything goes dark.

Present time.

“Morgan, you owe me twenty bucks. I told you it was a boat.” I stretch out my neck that has a kink from hanging loosely while sitting up in the chair for so long. It feels heavy, like I’ve been in this position a long time.

The man in front of me rolls his eyes, huffing loudly.

“You picked the wrong girl if you were counting on me melting like puddy in your hands. You forget that I know exactly what you want. You want the tears and the begging.”

“Trust me. You’ll get to that point.” He smirks. “They all do.”

He leaves the room, loudly pulling the door shut behind him as he goes.

“I promise, it’s not as bad as it looks.” I plead with the camera, knowing that my team is on the other side of it. I can only imagine what they’re all feeling. We’ve had close calls with team members, it’s not any easier to be in their position right now. You feel helpless. 

“Definitely on a boat, but I think we’re just at a marina or a pier. I can hear seagulls, we aren’t rocking that much.”

I lean forward as best as I can while still being tied to a chair. There’s a small window along the ceiling allowing me to see blue skies.

“It might be a ship. I’m above sea level, I can see the sky.” I try to give the team as much information as I can possibly gather. Anything could help.

“Sorry that’s about all I have right now to help.” I look around the bare room for any other details that could help, “I think I have a concussion, and maybe a cracked rib. I can’t take a deep breath.”

Suddenly the man comes back in, just as quickly as he left, he takes the camera in his hands.

“That’s all of your Y/n time today. You should get to trying to find me, because I am going to have a lot of fun in the meantime.”

Back with the team at the Miami police department...

The feed cuts out leaving the team in silence and shock.

“There’s nothing we could’ve done. We couldn’t have known-”

“We could have waited.

Spencer looks down at the ice pack in his lap. As if the guilt wasn’t eating away at him enough before. He also received a concussion. Only he woke up on the ground, relatively nothing compared to the person he was sent out with.

“There was no way for us to know that the unsub was going to come back to visit the last scene of the crime.” Emily defends. She can see the pure anger in Aaron’s eyes. Completely unwavering, and only focused on getting Y/n back to the team.

“But that’s the thing. He wouldn’t, that’s not in his MO. He moves on to his next target. Once he kills these women he feels nothing, it’s all in the buildup, he feels nothing at the scene of the crime.” Rossi says, thinking out loud.

“Y/n helped JJ talk to the press. The unsub could have seen her then. It’s likely that he would follow the case, especially once it was announced that the FBI had joined the case.” Spencer rapidly explains.

“She’s the right age, she fits his type.” Rossi nods.

“So, he sees her as more of a challenge. He’s escalated. He knows that she is a higher risk person to take.” Emily comments. 

“Y/n, said she’s on a boat.” Morgan says, bringing up the clue that Y/n gave them before the feed cut out. 

“We’re in southern Florida, there’s thousands of boats within just a hundred miles of us.” JJ sighs, looking around to the group around her.

“Four thousand, seven hundred and fifty-two within 75 miles of here.” Spencer pipes up.

Hotchner cuts him a look. Still trying to find anyone to blame, but himself. He’s the one who sent her in to that parking garage. 

“Garcia, can you locate her based on the feed the unsub has sent us?” Aaron asks, looking at the plain black screen, hoping to see it come back on so he can see the girl behind the camera. 

“No sir, he’s using a different routing server, just like he did with all of his previous victims.”

“Y/n is not a victim.”

---

It takes some time while the team continues to try and work out locations and who the unsub could even be. He wasn’t afraid to show his face on camera, which makes things a little more difficult. He has no record, making Garcia’s life a little harder. 

The TV in the conference room lets out a crackle before the familiar room comes into their view. Everyone sets down what they had been working on and halts all conversation. It’s been several hours since we’ve seen anything from him. Y/n has been gone for eleven hours at this point.

“Welcome back to the show!” The unsub grins. 

He moves out of the way to finally put Y/n in the frame. She’s hunched over, she doesn’t look as good as she did before. It’s evident that things have changed off camera. 

“His name is Nick.” Y/n mutters, picking up her head as best as she can. “He’s five ten and approximately a hundred ninety pounds.” 

“Don’t you learn to shut up?” Nick pulls back on the hair at the back of her head. In doing so it reveals new bruises that have taken home on her. 

“Baby, we talked about this. No more sharing with them, or else you know what happens.” Nick brushes her hair out of her face now. 

“This is his dads boat.” Y/n looks at the man who has taken her with spite in her eyes. It seems in his hours spent with her, he hasn’t learned that Y/n doesn’t like to be told what to do. And that she’s tougher than she looks. 

He lands a sharp fist into the side of her head and takes a step back. He lets himself take a deep breath, trying to gain control. He doesn’t want to kill her yet, that would be over too soon. Now he can step closer again, he lets one hand wrap around her throat, halting any oxygen of reaching her lungs.

He waits for Y/n to start to struggle in her chair before he lets up. 

“You just don’t like to learn, that’s okay. I’ll fix you.” Nick takes her hand, which is still tied to the arms of the chair she’s sat in. He pulls her pointer finger with care, before sharply pushing it straight up, breaking it. 

“Garcia-” Y/n picks up her head struggling to fight against his hands, she’s coughing now still trying to gain her breath back, “You don’t need to see this. Please. Turn it off.”

“Of course, Y/n is the one being tortured and she’s worried about other people.” Morgan turns away, himself unable to watch this continue. Listening to Y/n’s screams and shouts are going to be enough to stick with him. Rossi forces himself to watch the girl he’s grown so close to since joining the team, brutally tortured in front of him. 

Everyone on this team has love for this girl. She’s managed to worm her way into everyone’s life in some way or another. Y/n always knows exactly what each person needs, and she meets it. She holds the team together when they’re all falling apart. If anything were to happen to her, it would destroy them all. 

Especially Aaron. As reluctant as he would be to admit it, this girl has wormed her way into his heart. Different to everyone else on the team, though. He saw her beauty and kindness. It was hard to him to imagine a woman ever entering his life like Haley did, but Y/n did it with such grace, and without even trying. Y/n helped him out with Jack when he needed it, and made them meals when Aaron just needed to catch a break. She didn’t even need a thank you, it was just part of her.

Without even trying, Y/n became his person and all he can think now is that he never got the chance to tell her, never even got the chance to thank her, and that he won’t let happen.  He wants to see Y/n’s face in person, not bruised and bloody through the screen on the wall. He needs to get out to save her.

“Garcia, does that help you narrow your search.” Hotchner asks their tech who is still on speaker. 

“We’ve got twenty-two Nicks with boats in the Miami area.” She explains. 

“What about Nicks who have wealthy fathers? Or boats that weren’t originally in their name.” Spencer asks. 

“That leaves me with one. Nick Hoffman.” Garcia cheers, “Sunset Harbour on 1928 Sunset Harbour Drive” 

The team takes off without a second thought, quickly trying to save their girl. They manage to get there in record time and find the boat with success. Y/n was right, it’s more like a ship with its size. 

“Morgan, Rossi, work your way around the main levels and then below. Emily and I will lead the upper level.” 

The team takes off to clear the boat. It took a few empty rooms until Emily finally opens the door to where they are. Nick holds a knife to Y/n’s throat. He’s essentially using her as a shield, ducking behind her. 

“If you take one more step in here, I will slit her throat.” Nick shouts. 

“We don’t want that to happen.” Emily negotiates, Hotch finally stepping into the room. 

“Hey! I told you guys not to move!” He presses the blade down tight against Y/n’s neck while she lets out a shudder. 

“Let her go.” Hotch declares. 

“I want a deal.” Nick grovels. 

“Men like you don’t get deals.” Emily says, her eyes trained on him and all of his movements. 

“Not even for your precious Y/n’s life?” He grins, looking down at the girl below him now. 

“Go to hell.” She mutters as best she can., 

“Maybe killing you would be worth it.” He smirks, “Then we could go out together.” 

“I’ve got better plans.” Y/n throws her head back into Nick’s disorienting him enough that Hotch has a clear shot, and he takes it. Nick’s body falls and Emily kicks his knife out of reach.

“Get me out of this chair.” Y/n shakes, squirming to get out of the spot she’s been constrained to. “Get me out of here, please.” 

Hotch and Emily both holster their weapons and rush to help her. They quickly untie her and when her legs fail her, Hotch scoops her up. He quickly walks her down the stairs and doesn’t stop once he reaches the dock, he takes her all the way up to the ambulance. 

Without hesitation, Hotch gets in with her. There isn’t anything that could keep him from leaving her now. 

“Wow, that was a dramatic ending, huh?” Y/n grins. 

“You can’t seriously be cracking jokes about this now.” He sighs. 

“I mean come on, aren’t you going to even ask how I figured out his name was Nick? I figured it out when he ow-” 

Y/n cuts herself off when the paramedic starts feeling her ribs to see which are cracked and if any are broken.

“Y/n, we can talk about this later.” Aaron smiles. 

“Am I hallucinating? Is it the lack of oxygen, because you’re smiling.” Y/n comments, finally turning to look at her boss who has a smile that she knows he saves for Jack. 

“You’re back. That’s reason to smile.” 

They make it to the hospital to find out that Y/n has a concussion, one broken rib and three cracked ribs, and one broken finger. Not to mention the trauma to the trachea. 

“The gangs all here.” Y/n smiles, noticing Garcia has flown down to join the group. Everyone has been gathered in the room since everything settled down, “What are you doing here?” 

“Y/n, you were kidnapped.” Garcia states, still in shock, “You could’ve died.” 

Tears fill Penelope’s eyes and Y/n opens her arms from her hospital bed for a hug, which she easily accepts. 

“Ehh, I knew you guys would find me.” Y/n grins. “I’m fine Pen, I’m getting discharged in the morning and we can all go home.” 

“Yes, speaking of, we should all get some rest. Especially Y/n.”

Slowly, the rest of the team clears out, giving hugs on their way. 

“Not taking your own orders?” Y/n asks, noticing her boss making himself comfortable on the small couch in her hospital room. 

“I don’t think I could leave if I tried.” Aaron admits. 

“And why’s that?” Y/n asks, carefully turning to lay on her side to face him. 

“Because I love you.” He confesses, “I have for a while now, and it’s alright if you don’t feel the same, or if my position with this team makes you uncomfortable. I just don’t think I can go any longer without you at least knowing.”

“You love me?” Y/n asks, her voice cracking. Aaron finally has the courage to look over and she has tears in her eyes. 

“Yes.” He clears his throat, “The way you have become a part of my life, and Jack’s for that matter. You bring so much light with you everywhere you go, even after a day like you’ve had today. You manage to still be the brightest person I have ever met.”

“Please don’t make me get out of bed to kiss you, because I think I would crack another rib.” Y/n sighs. 

Hotch lets out a soft chuckle before getting up from his spot. 

“Only if you promise to go to bed after this, you need rest.” 

“Promise.” 

He leans down to connect their lips, it’s soft. Y/n can tell that he’s being gentle with her. She reaches up a hand to thread them through Aaron’s short hair, using it to her advantage to hold him there and pull him a little closer. They pull away eventually, Y/n stealing one more peck before fully letting go of him.

“Ok, maybe I’ve had worse days.” 

---

AHHHHHH my first time writing for criminal minds! i hope you guys liked it! 🥺

#aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #agent hotchner #hotch

[akookminsupporter]

Hello there, I want to add a thing to the whole "Jikookers are so delulu"-discourse or rather the kind of united front that seems to exist against them in the fandom and how it honestly changed my perspective on Jikook.

So I've been an ARMY since 2015-ish. I was really new to this whole stanning business since I never had any interest in keeping up with any celebrities or the charts before (and still pretty much don't lol). I didn't really have social media except for Tumblr and at the beginning I really just binged myself through their original content while staying blissfully ignorant to the fandom and popular narratives within it until like 2017/18 ish.

I had always liked Jikook's dynamic, cooing over how JM always loudly proclaimed his affections for JK and how JK in turn always seemed to follow him around everywhere and gradually I noticed bits and pieces about them over the years that made me raise my eyebrows (especially Kook's raw, unexpected reactions sometimes made me pause), but I eventually always waved them away every time.

As I like to say, with Jikook I always liked and tried to remain in my sphere of chaotic neutrality, I'm just here to enjoy the memes and coo over how cute they are lol. I also didn't want to pry more into the member's private lifes than they already have to expose to us; I didn't want to play detective. And when "clues" popped up my gut instict was to close my eyes and go "I didn't see anything!"

On top of that I'm always wary of being manipulated and soooo sceptical to believe anything that I see on screen, that sometimes I can't even say in good conscience that I think BTS are good people, even if in my mind I would say I believe that.

My paranoid brain: HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?? What if everything you're seeing is fake??!! What if tomorrow it comes out they have murdered a million kittens and you invested time and emotions into and suffered through year-long ridicule and harassment for people who aren't even worth it??!!

Then the rational part of my brain argues that there are some things you can't consistently fake over the course of 7-10 years, in countless hours of footage, especially in unedited footage, especially at the very back of videos from where it can barely be picked up by the cameras, from recounts of people who actually met them and had pleasant experiences with them, from all the times they have gone above and beyond what is strictly necessary to say or do something good, something that doesn't always put them in a favourable position.

Parasocial relationship or not, it doesn't really matter. You might know friends or relatives for all your life and could still be betrayed by them; they could still be horrible people behind the scene. We shouldn't be shamed for something so human as forming empathetic connections with others, no matter how far away they seem from us.

But mild existential crisis aside, what I meant to say is just that it made it even harder for me to accept most things I saw play out on screen. And I also think this is a lot of where the insecure"If Jikook really was a couple they wouldn't act so close on camera"-people come from, so honestly I can't blame them all that much sometimes, as I feel sympathy for them.

Ok. Back on track. My first big "Oh" moments were all sometime around 2016 but I was still not really thinking anything of the two from that point onwards. But I guess it did kind of stick with me and then over the years the amount of 'sus' moments just kept piling on and on, but I always pushed it back into my mind because I didn't want to assume anything. I made it through the release of GCFT and several other meltdown-inducing milestones without thinking they might be 'real' trying to maintain that mindset of the neutral sceptic lol.

And after 2019, engaging more with the fandom and seeing other people see what I saw it just slowly pushed me to my breaking point.

But you know what really pushed me over the edge to believe they might be legit together? The antis.

I always tried to remain sceptical and think about at least one counter-argument as to not succumb to blind bias. Imagine my utter meltdown at the ARMY + JM tattoo because how tf can you possibly explain that away? The way the fandom just jumped at the flimsy OT7 explanation even if it is dictated on and would fall completely apart if it wasn't for that one missing line in the A, just boggles my mind! That was the first instance that made me think "Wow, people are really going above and beyond to dismiss them." And from that point onwards it just got more and more ridiculous.

"I do that with my brother all the time!!!"

(As someone who actually has an older brother big fat yikes).

"IT'S JUST FANSERVICE!!"

(I've already left a long rant about that bs lol)

"Pff nooo ofc he is not sucking on his ear, you're soo delusional omg! His chin just got stuck to his face."

(The most hilariously ridiculous of them all. The fact is: my dude just sucked on JM's ear in front of 60K people and yelled out I love you. You can interpret that however you like? Don't think they are romantically involved? That's more than fine. But why twist the facts?)

"STOP MAKING IT ABOUT SHIPS! OH MA GAHD THAT'S SO DISRESPECTFUL!"

(Ok then, next time I want to praise JK's artistry in a video where he exclusively filmed JM, or a performance by the INDIVIDUALS JM and JK who have nothing to do with each other at all, I'll be sure not to mention them or their teamwork, wouldn't want to be disrespectful after all 🤡)

At this point I have chronical backpain just from seeing the amount of ridiculous mental gymnastics people do to discredit every possible "Jikook moment". And that was finally the moment where I went:

"Oh my God, you don't want to be that person. Whatever the hell these people are doing is a lot more delulu than simply thinking Jikook might be together."

If it turns out I'm wrong tomorrow, then that's that, but at least I won't be so blinded by paranoia that I completely twist the facts to fit some agenda.

Thinking they couldn't possibly be together is not the inherently more logical or less delusional assumption.

Honestly there is a lot of internalized homophobia in that train of thought. What is it about two men who have gone through so much together over the course of several years falling in love and forming a commited, romantic relationship with e/o that is so absurd and ridiculous? Why does it seem to scare people that much?

At the end of the day for all the joy that they brought to my life I just wish them happiness in whatever form that may be.

So now I am finally at peace lol. Sorry this is so long, but I hope this can help other 'neutral sceptics' out there.

“You might know friends or relatives for all your life and could still be betrayed by them; they could still be horrible people behind the scene. We shouldn't be shamed for something so human as forming empathetic connections with others, no matter how far away they seem from us.”

“Whatever the hell these people are doing is a lot more delulu than simply thinking Jikook might be together."

Thanks for sharing your journey, anon. I guess one thing I will never understand is the desperate need of a part of this fandom to deny the mere possibility that Jikook is real. The absurd reasons why, according to them, it can't be real. And I can't believe the blatant hypocrisy regarding other ships, they find all the problems in the world with jikook and their shippers but that same energy doesn't seem to exist when it comes to other ships and their shippers.

#anon #ask #jikook #kookmin

[quinncupine]

Taken Chapter Two: A little Help

Chapter word count: 5,983

Link: A03

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya/ Reader

Notes: This is part of the first fanfiction story I ever wrote earlier this year. I decided to post them on here so please excuse the janky writing. I had no idea where I was going (still don’t) with this. Anyways, it was a blast to write, so please enjoy!

Previous Chapter: One

Next Chapter: Three

MASTERLIST

...

Izuku couldn’t even tell All Might what happened, not over the phone anyway. He was having trouble forming the words, it didn’t even seem possible but his worst nightmare was quickly becoming his reality. All he could do at the moment was stare at the small crack in the floor, covered in your blood.

Izuku dropped to his knees and hung up the phone, not even bothering to say goodbye, he could apologize later, when you were back in his arms, safe. Thinking about this rationally was becoming harder and harder when his head just kept filling up with the horrors he could imagine were being inflicted on you, because of him. Him! The one person in the world that you should have been able to rely on and when you needed him most, he failed you.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there in a trance, but eventually a hand gripped his shoulder and All Might knelt next to him.

“Young man.” He whispered gently.

Izuku couldn’t bring himself to look at All Might, not when he failed as a hero, no, as a husband. “Y/N.” He choked out. “She’s gone...kidnapped.” He barely managed to utter the last words.

All Might was quiet for a moment, digesting the news.

“Stand up.” He directed him. “You can’t wallow in the past. You’ll find her, after all, there is no finer hero.”

Izuku swallowed the lump in his throat and stood up, finally meeting All Might’s eyes, they were full of pity and steely anger. Izuku had introduced you to All Might years ago and ever since then, just like all his friends, you were able to worm your way into their hearts.

He tried to blink the tears out of his eyes without success. “I wasn’t here, I was supposed to be here.”

“Come here,” All Might dragged him into the living room. “I’m calling Tsukauchi. Stay here."

Izuku stood back up the moment All Might tried to make him sit on the couch. “I can’t just sit here and wait All Might, I need to go look for her.”

“Do you know where to start looking?” He asked, phone to his ear.

Izuku opened his mouth but closed it again. All Might was right, he didn’t know where to start but that only further dragged his guilt and fear deeper into the abyss. All Might left the room to talk, leaving Izuku standing there, alone with his thoughts again.

He glanced around the room, his eyes landed on a framed picture of the two of you sitting in the entertainment center. He walked over and picked it up. This one was newer, only a few months ago, when the air was still reasonably warm. You loved your date nights but the only problem was the fans and paparazzi that would follow your every move. So, a few years ago you came up with the idea of incognito dates. He was up for whatever you had in mind and in no time you had him dressed up in the most ridiculous disguise, but he got his revenge in your costume. You both looked absolutely ridiculous. It was one of his favorite moments with you.

Izuku must have been staring at the photo for a while because when All Might stepped back into the room, Tsukauchi was standing behind him. Last year, he was finally promoted to chief of police, and Izuku had fostered a good relationship with him. He was one of the few people entrusted with the secret of One For All.

They walked back into the kitchen, surveying the scene as Tsukauchi explained that he came alone because he didn't want to send word to the station yet, he feared it would cause bigger problems if the public found out that the number one hero’s wife was kidnapped right out of his own home. No, better to keep this private. Bring in guys he could trust, speaking of which, All Might had called one more person.

“Oi, tell me what the fuck I got called here for!” Bakugou called from the entryway.

Izuku leveled a glare at All Might but he just squeezed his shoulder.

Bakugou walked into the kitchen looking pissed. “Someone better explain why-” He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed the crack and the blood on the floor. “That yours?”

No one said anything. Izuku watched Bakugou as he put two and two together.

“Y/N?” His expression softened, just slightly.

It might be hard to believe that you got along with Bakugo but he’d mellowed out a lot over the years, humbled, marginally, as he landed himself in the number two hero rankings. He still acted all pissy whenever Izuku was involved but when he met you, you tossed back whatever he threw at you. He would never admit it but he was surprised Izuku had actually managed to find someone like you.

Bakugou crossed his arms. “Well someone better fucking explain!”

They all turned to Izuku but he was afraid if he spoke, he wouldn’t stop himself from crying. Instead, he elected to lead them to the monitor to see for themselves. They watched the video, the small office growing tenser and tenser by the minute.

“How’d they get past the alarms? I thought you upgraded security after last time.” All Might asked.

Izuku quickly flipped through ground footage but he couldn’t find anyone outside. They only seemed to appear on the interior cameras. It must’ve been a quirk but what kind? If they could narrow down quirks, they could narrow down suspects.

Tsukauchi examined the footage, leaning in close. “See here, it looks a bit distorted. It either has to be some sort of cloaking quirk or technological. Can I download this, I’d like to examine it further.”

Izuku nodded and copied the footage onto a hard drive.

“They wanted you to see it.” Bakugou finally spoke up behind them.

“What?” Izuku almost forgot he was there, he’s never silent.

Bakugou grumbled and rolled his eyes, pushing Izuku out of the way. He stopped the video at the end when Blondie waved to the camera. “She knew you would watch, they’re baiting you. They weren’t trying to hide, they want you to track them down.”

“Do you recognize any of them? Any of the features stand out to you?” Tsukauchi asked.

Izuku rubbed his head. “No. I’ve fought a lot of villains. A lot of people want me dead but no one’s tried to target Y/N. Not like this anyway.”

“Not like this?” All Might asked.

Izuku stepped away from the monitor and took a deep breath. “She’s received death threats before.”

“What?” Tsukauchi and All Might exclaimed together.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes. “Did she know?”

Izuku looked at him. “I tried to keep them from her. She didn’t need that on her plate, it’s already stressful enough for her.” He rubbed his face. “She did find out, but I don’t think those people would actually act on it. I made sure they wouldn’t be able to.”

“I’m going to get started on this.” Tsukauchi excused himself. “For now Midoriya, please stay here, at least until we know more.”

“What? I can’t stay here! I have to go look for her.” He stepped away from everyone as if they would try to restrain him.

“You don’t know where to look dumbass,” Bakugou growled. “We need to find a lead first.” He turned away from them, pulling out his phone. “I’ll call some contacts.”

Tsukauchi left, All Might escorted him out while Bakugou walked away to make his call. That left Izuku standing alone, staring at the still of the woman in the gas mask waving at him. The only thing distinguishable about her was the messy blonde pixie cut; the mask and loose dark clothing covered everything else.

What was he doing? He was a hero, he couldn’t let everyone else do this for him. It was his fault, he needed to find her, to save her. With a grim frown, he snuck downstairs, through the back door and flew off, literally.

The problem occurred to him when he landed on a building near the town center that he didn’t know where to start looking. There were a few villain gangs that covered this territory, nothing happened here that they wouldn’t know about, but there would be no way that Deku would be able to talk to them without starting a fight and he didn’t have time for fights.

Deku.

That was another problem, he had left his hero garb at the office, his spare suit was at home in his closet, neither of which he was currently at. He could stop back at the office but Shoto was most likely still there and he wasn’t sure if he could face him, on the other hand, he would feel more confident wearing the suit, especially if he had to face off against villains.

It was decided, he would stop at the office and try to avoid anyone at all costs. It wasn’t too far either, just a few blocks south. He leaped off the building and in no time, landed on the roof of his own office. Through the roof access and down a few flights of stairs and he opened the stairwell door into his office floor. It was nearing five and most of the desk jockeys had clocked out by now. That left only a few sidekicks and...Shoto, who was still in Izuku’s office, filing the paperwork he’d shouldered him with.

Izuku took a deep breath and straightened himself, trying to look calm and natural but he looked more like a stiff board as he walked through the office. Shoto turned around when Izuku entered looking slightly surprised that he was back.

“Just came back to get a few things.” Izuku’s voice sounded strained, even to himself.

Shoto stared at him without saying a word as Izuku opened the little closet in the corner, pulling out a fresh costume.

“Where are you going?” He asked, setting the papers down.

Izuku bit his lip. He was torn between telling Shoto and not. Shoto would want to know and help any way he could, which would be useful but he also had this growing sense of shame bubbling in his belly and the thought of telling someone he looked up to how hard he had failed...well he might just break down right there.

“It’s-” Izuku clenched the fabric in his fingers and lowered his head.

Shoto got the message and closed the door and lowered the blinds, getting a few strange looks from some of the passing sidekicks. Then he waited for Izuku to continue.

A few deep breaths and Izuku finally turned, tears streaming down his face. “She’s been kidnapped, from our own home.”

That news took Shoto by surprise, his eyes widening slightly. “When?”

“This morning.” He ripped the suits from the closet and slammed it shut. “I should have known something was wrong! I should have, I should’ve been there for her!”

Shoto took a step forward, trying to figure out best how to console his friend. Izuku let the tears flow freely now, he didn’t care about shame anymore, all he cared about was finding you.

“Have you called the police yet?” He finally asked.

“Tsukauchi knows.” Izuku nodded. “I called All Might and he called Kacchan.”

“Why would he call Bakugou?” Shoto asked.

Izuku wiped his eyes. “Kacchan is good at finding people, if he wasn’t a hero, he would’ve made a great detective.” He dropped the suit on the desk chair. “Besides, he and Y/N are friends, he wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to her either.”

“Well, she’s my friend too.” Shoto narrowed his eyes. “You should’ve called me."

Izuku only nodded. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking clearly, I just need to find her.”

Shoto was about to say something else when Izuku’s phone rang. He scrambled for it and answered with a quick “Hello?”

“Oi, dumbass, where the hell did you go?” Bakugou barked on the other end.

“Kacchan, did you find anything?” Izuku put the phone on speaker so that Shoto could listen as well.

“Of course I did.” He growled. “Get your ass to the Dandoran District. Block nine.” He hung up.

“Dandoran? That’s just across town.” Izuku unbuttoned his shirt. “You want to help, get your suit!” He yelled.

In a matter of minutes, the two of them were back on the roof. Izuku wasted no time in grabbing Shoto and leaping off the building. Dandoran was halfway across the city, they would take too long in the traffic and Izuku was much faster airborne. Shoto grumbled as they were launched into the air but didn’t protest.

It took all of seven minutes for them to arrive at the edge of the district. He landed on an unassuming building in block nine and looked down.

“There.” Shoto pointed.

Leaning against a street sign was Bakugou, better known as Ground Zero when in costume. He was staring up at an unimpressive building before him. It was slightly smaller than the rest surrounding it and seemed to be under construction.

The two met him at the doors. Ground Zero glowered as Shoto walked beside Deku.

“What’s half and half doing here?” He crossed his arms.

“I’m here to help,” Shoto said simply. “What are we doing here?”

Ground Zero looked up at the decrepit building. “One of my sources said they spotted three suspects fitting the descriptions dragging some cargo into this building. Two men and one woman.”

“How long ago?” Deku started for the building but Ground Zero roughly pulled him back.

“five hours. They might’ve left or this might be a trap. Think this through fucking nerd.” He glared at Deku but Deku glared right back.

“I know it’s a trap but I can’t just leave her in there. Stay here if you want, I’m going in.” He shook Ground Zero’s hand off his arm.

“Deku, think about it,” Shouto spoke up. “You’re always the one with a plan, don’t be rash now and risk the both of you.”

That stopped him. He was right, going in without a plan would be reckless and foolish and might get you hurt. He took a shaky breath and examined the building again. About ten stories, all of which the lights were off or blinds covered the windows. On the upper floors, most of the windows were boarded up. They could go in through the roof but they didn’t have a floor plan and they didn’t know which floor you might be on if you were even in the building. They only had the three of them, unless Bakugou called for backup, which was unlikely.

“Two possible escape routes,” Deku put his hand to his chin as he thought it over. “Possibly more we don’t know about. We need to block the roof and the ground floor, in case they try running. Someone needs to keep watch out here. We could launch a double assault but that would alert them, or we could sneak in but we have no way of communicating with each other...” Deku continued to ramble until Shoto grabbed his shoulder.

“I brought these.” Shoto held out three small communicators. “I figured they would come in handy.”

Deku took one and secured it in his ear. “Okay, I think I have a suitable plan.” He looked to Shoto. “I need you to stay out here. Freeze the exits on the roof and ground floor. Kacchan,” He turned to him. “You take the first floor, I’ll start at the top, work your way to the middle. Radio if you find anything.”

Bakugo nodded stiffly, obviously not liking to take orders but he also knew when to take things seriously.

Deku bent down, ready to jump. “Kacchan.” He whispered.

“I know, just get your fucking ass up there.” He said.

He entered the floor, keeping low and a sharp eye on any sort of movement. The building wasn’t all that big and this floor was still being remodeled. Big sheets of plastic swung slightly in the slight breeze from one of the unfinished windows. Buckets of plaster sat unused in the corner and half the floor was torn up. He made a wide arc around it, not sure how stable this floor actually was. That’s when he heard it, a soft drag of something on the floor and a small huff. He stiffened and crouched lower, trying to target where exactly the sound came from. Across the room, he heard a sniffle and risked peeking over a half wall.

Deku took a deep breath and jumped, easily clearing the building and landing lightly at the top. He took in the surroundings, nothing out of place, but the door at the top was locked. As quietly as he could, he ripped the lock off and cracked the door open. It was dark inside. He slipped in and shut the door, sealing him in darkness. Outside he heard the familiar sounds of Shoto’s ice trapping him in.

With slow movements, he made his way down the stairs, feeling for each step until he came to a landing. The top floor. He opened the door enough to peek inside, it was dark as well, except for the bits of the evening sun trying to slither through the boarded windows. He listened for any sounds but heard none. He debated whether to check the rest of this floor or keep going. The exit was blocked but he also didn’t know what kind of quirks these guys could have.

He saw black plastic peeking out from behind another half wall, some sort of material that could’ve been a bag big enough to fit a person. His spirits raised and he had to take all his willpower not to rush over. He had to be very careful, one wrong move and you could get hurt, or worse.

As quietly as he could, he made his way over, swiveling his head to keep vigil. Just a few more feet and he was there. The bag shifted and a small puff of a groan sounded. He leaped around the wall, hands held out in defense of whatever was waiting on the other side.

“Freeze!” He yelled and scared a homeless man so bad he almost wet himself.

“I’m sorry! I just wanted a dry place to sleep!” The man crawled out of his sleeping bag, quickly gathering his things.

Deku’s hopes fell and he dropped his hands. “No, stay here.” He glanced around the room. “Did you see anyone enter the building? Hear anything unusual?”

The man stopped and looked up at Deku, his eyes widening in recognition. “You’re Deku! What are you doing here?”

Deku forced himself to remain calm. “I’m looking for someone. Have you seen anyone enter this building, or leave it?”

The man shook his head. “Sorry, I’ve been sleeping, didn’t hear nothing.” He hesitated with his stuff. “I can stay?”

The man nodded fast. “Thank you.”

Deku weighed his options. If he did end up in a fight, the building would be a danger zone but if this man left, he could alert the villains. Also, the exits were blocked.

"Stay here for now, but leave the moment you hear anything, got it?”

Deku left the man and headed back out into the stairwell. He checked the next two floors with painstaking cautiousness. He hadn’t heard from Ground Zero, which meant he must have been coming up empty as well.

On the seventh floor, he entered the room and slipped along the wall. These floors were finished and it would be harder to navigate the cluster. It looked as though someone had stuck all their unwanted junk here and left it to rot. Halfway through checking the room, Ground Zero's voice crinkled in his ear.

“We got runners, coming up on you fast!” He yelled.

Deku made for the door but when he opened it and stepped out, something slammed the door shut on him and he was sent sprawling into the closest pile of junk, everything toppled over on him. He cursed and dug his way out.

He kicked the door open, looking around murderously. He heard feet pound up the stairs above him. With a burst of speed, he chased after them. Whoever they were, they were fast. On the door to the rooftop, the one sealed shut with ice, he heard a crash.

Below him Ground Zero was sprinting up the stairs, yelling a slew of insults at the runners. Deku rounded the last flight and saw an enormous hole where the door used to be. The chilly fall air rushed in and in the last vestiges of the sun, he saw two people running across the roof.

“Stop!” He roared but they didn’t listen.

He propelled himself out of the stairwell and plowed into the man on the right, the one with the bright blue hair. The two tumbled over each other, Deku landing on top with the man’s arms pinned behind him. It was the same man from the video, the one that smashed you into the floor, the one who hurt you.

“Where is she?” He snarled, pulling the man’s arm back painfully.

The man grunted but refused to speak. The other man, the one wearing a black trench coat turned, pointing a gun at an oblivious Deku. He was about to shoot when Bakugo sailed into him, pummeling him into the concrete.

“Die!” He screamed.

Deku glared down at the man he’d pinned. “You have three seconds to tell me or I break your arm.”

The man stayed silent and Deku pulled back the arm, eliciting a small whine from him but he refused to speak.

“Fine.” In one swift motion, he broke his index finger and the man bit his lip. “There are a lot more bones to break, believe me. Talk.”

The man closed his eyes. Deku narrowed his own and broke another finger but the man only flinched.

“TELL ME!” He screamed, breaking his wrist.

The man finally cried out and looked up at him. Deku moved his hand to the elbow and was about to break that too but when he made eye contact with the man it felt like someone stabbed him in the eyes. His vision went completely out and he loosened his grip on the man. Blue Hair took the advantage and bucked him off.

Deku fell backward rubbing his eyes but his vision was gone, he couldn’t even tell light from dark, everything was black. A fist connected with his jaw and he slammed into the ground. The tables turned and now the man was on top of Deku, slamming his unbroken fist down on his face. Deku held his hands out to block the barrage of the fists and took a moment to collect his thoughts. He needed to focus, to hear where the man was. He listened and grabbed the fist that was headed for his head, twisting so hard he heard the snap and the man flew off him. He took a deep breath and pushed himself off the ground, listening around him. Bakugo was still fighting the other man but the air smelled weird. He didn’t have to see to know it was gas, most likely the same gas that affected you.

Pulling his mouth guard up he whipped his head around at the sound of Bakugo’s explosions and headed that way. “Ground Zero sto-” Deku tried to warn but a huge blast sent him sprawling across the graveled rooftop.

The gas only added to Ground Zero’s blast. Everything was quiet for a scary moment, Deku had no way of knowing if everyone was okay or not. His skin felt singed. He pushed himself off the ground with a groan, the sharp gravel digging into his palms.

Across the roof, he heard Ground Zero yelling at someone. That was a relief, that meant he was still kicking. Deku made his way over to him, navigating by sound until he ran straight into Ground Zero.

Ground Zero shoved him back. “Watch it.”

“Where’s the other one, the girl?” He asked. “There were supposed to be three.”

“The bitch wasn’t with the others. It was just these two fucking idiots.” He said.

Deku rubbed his eyes again, his vision was slowly coming back into focus but not enough to see clearly. “Did you find anything out?”

Ground Zero kicked the unconscious villain. “No, they refused to talk.”

Deku huffed and looked at Ground Zero's blurry outline. “Is Shoto still down there?” He gestured to the edge of the building.

He glanced over the edge. “No.” He flicked his communicator. “Hey, bastard! Where did you run off to!”

Static filled the comms unit and Deku’s stomach flipped. Something had to have happened down below but his eyesight was coming back too slowly to tell. Just then, his phone rang. He shuffled around his pocket until he found it and answered.

“Hello?” He asked stiffly.

He heard labored breathing. “Izuku!”

That was your voice.

“Y/N!” Izuku pressed the phone into his ear trying to hear you better.

There was what sounded like a scuffle and you grunted. “I’m do-” You started to say but the sound of something heavy dropping cut you off.

“Stop, you cant!" A woman yelled before your shouts were muffled.

He called your name again but instead of your voice, a high pitched metallic squeal tore into his ear. He staggered back, dropping the phone and clutching his ear. The metallic whine only seemed to grow louder before Ground Zero snatched the phone and turned it off.

“The fuck was that?” He inspected the device.

Deku caught his breath bringing his hand away from his ear. It was sticky with fresh blood, that much he could tell. His ears were ringing and he felt himself talking louder than he needed.

“I don’t-” A powerful force kicked him in the back and sent him flying off the building, too stunned to react.

His vision was still blurry and the sun had set, which meant the only light sources now were the street lamps far below. His quirk didn’t want to cooperate with him, which meant he was falling helplessly down to the unforgiving cement. He tried desperately to activate his quirks but they simply refused. The ground came closer and closer and his breath hitched. If he hit the ground from this height, well, no more Deku.

“Kacch-” He yelled out as his back hit something cold and the words were pushed back into his throat.

A large icy construct formed a curved wall for him to slide back safely to the ground. He tumbled out on the concrete and looked up. Shoto was staring up at the roof, breathing heavily, holding his shoulder.

“What’s going on up there?” Shoto helped Deku stand.

“I don’t know, I still can’t see that well.” He rubbed his irritated eyes again.

“Still?” Shoto asked.

“A quirk, he left me blind for a while but it’s coming back. Ground Zero is still up there.” He looked back at Shoto. “What happened to you?”

“It was an ambush, they were waiting for us to arrive.” He gestured to the number of bodies lying unconscious on the sidewalk. “I was coming to assist you.”

Deku nodded, flexing his hands. His power was still not working but why? Someone had to be canceling it out, but how and where? He glanced around but it was too dark to try and find someone lurking in the shadows.

On the roof, a series of explosions were set off, no doubt the work of Ground Zero. That meant he was fighting someone else.

“We have to get back up there, can you give us a lift?” Deku turned to him.

Shoto blinked and nodded. From his feet shot a pillar of ice that boosted them into the air, high enough that they easily made the jump to the roof. On the roof was a nightmare, about twenty more people had appeared and surrounded Ground Zero who was barely dodging all their attacks but what worried Deku the most was the slowness with which he moved. Normally, Ground Zero could move quite fast when he wanted to, but right now, he was sluggish and took a hit every so often.

“The gas!” Deku touched his mask. “It’s not dispersing!”

Gas was still coming off in waves from Trenchcoat, even though he appeared to be unconscious. He knew from experience that the gas was flammable, which meant Ground Zero couldn’t fight properly, not without accidentally incinerating his teammates.

Shoto pulled out a mask of his own and quickly fastened it to his face. The two heroes jumped into the fight. Even though Deku couldn’t use his quirk didn’t mean that he couldn’t fight. He was a terrifying foe, with or without his powers. For years he had honed his body and his skills, he wasn’t the number one hero for no reason.

The rooftop was becoming crowded now, more and more foes were filling up all the available space, leaving little room to move freely. Where they had come from was anyone’s guess. Different quirks shot out from everywhere, some even hitting their allies but Deku managed to dodge them for the most part.

After what seemed like hours but really only mere minutes, the black-clad foes were subdued. Bakugo bent over, breathing heavily but swatted at his teammates when they tried to help. Deku stared at the sheer number of people lying on the roof, where did they come from? They couldn't have all been hiding in the building could they?

Deku looked at the various wounds he’d received, minimal at best but it didn’t comfort him to know that his power still wasn’t coming back but at least his vision was back. Shoto picked up Deku’s phone that was lying forgotten near the short wall.

“Thanks.” He took it back and examined it, the screen was cracked but it was still working.

You managed to call him which meant that you were awake, alive and lucid enough to fight back. But what caused that awful noise? It must have been whoever you were with. He called back the number, shifting on his feet as he listened to the ringing. It rang once, twice, four times before someone answered.

He froze, not expecting that. No one said anything, but he knew someone was listening, he could hear the small even breaths on the other end.

“Y/N?” He asked softly.

A long pause before a man's voice chuckled. “She can’t come to the phone right now, you’ll have to leave a message.”

Deku grit his teeth and had to mentally tell himself to remain calm. “Who are you?”

“Me?” The man sounded amused. “Oh, no one special. But I suppose you could call me, hmm, let’s go with Kioshi. Yeah, that’s got a nice ring to it, wouldn’t you say Deku?”

“Where is Y/N?” His tone was deadly calm.

“Oh, if you’re worried she’s hurt, don’t be. I’ve been taking the absolute best care of her. She would come to the phone but I’m afraid she’s a little busy at the moment. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Kioshi said.

“Wait!” Deku broke his calm. “Why did you take her?”

“All in due time my boy, all in due time.” He hung up the phone.

Deku stared at the phone, willing the man to call back but he didn’t. He tried to call again but was sent directly to voicemail. He paused and listened to that all too happy voice telling him to leave a message, his chest tightening so much he had trouble breathing.

“Deku?” Shoto said, bringing the hero out of his stupor.

“Kioshi, he said Kioshi.” Deku muttered and called Tsukauchi.

Tsukauchi answered straight away. “Midoriya.”

“Does the name Kioshi mean anything to you?”

There was some shuffling on the other end. “Uh, not at the moment. Why? Is that the one that-”

“Yes. Please, if you find anything on that name, tell me right away.” Deku said.

“Of course.” Tsukauchi hesitated before going on. “You’re okay, right?”

The green-clad hero sighed, dropping his gaze. “Just let me know what you find and...thanks.”

He hung up and looked at the other two staring at him. Ground Zero was strangely silent this whole time but now that Deku could see clearly again, Ground Zero looked really pale and was swooning slightly. The gas must have affected him more than they realized.

“I’ve alerted the police, they should be here any moment...” Shoto's sentence trailed off as he looked around again.

The unconscious enemies were all gone. Deku rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing right but it was true, every one of them, except for the two they chased onto the roof, were just...gone.

"Someone's messing with us." Ground Zero finally growled out.

Deku frowned, the people they were fighting felt so real, how was it possible to just disappear without sound, to the degree that they didn't even notice.

"It must have been the gas." Deku finally said. "It was an illusion.

“An illusion that fights back?” Shoto asked.

Deku looked down at his bruised hands. He could feel his power surging through him once again. Whatever had happened, it was temporary. Now that the fighting was over, his body felt tired and overtaxed but he couldn’t get the call out of his head. This wasn’t a normal kidnapping, he didn’t even seem to want anything. There was no ransom or some sort of demand of him. He’d assumed this was because of who he was but was that still the case? No, it had to be, you lived a normal life, or as normal as you could have with Izuku as a husband.

Trench Coat groaned and slowly blinked open his eyes, coming face to face with two enraged emerald eyes. The man struggled to get free but Deku held him fast.

A groan broke him from his thoughts. Lying near his feet was Trench Coat, he twisted in on himself as much as he could with restraints tying his hands behind his back.

“Hey,” Deku growled, pulling him up by his collar. “Who do you work for?”

“Don’t make me ask again.” He threatened.

The man pulled his head as far away from him as he could, but he refused to talk.

“No one has spoken a word yet.” Shoto pointed out. “I tried to question those below but received the same result.”

Deku growled and threw the man back on the ground. “I’m searching the building again.” He stalked off, leaving Shoto and Ground Zero standing there.

“Whoever these jerkwads are, their boss has ‘em wrapped tight around his finger.” Ground Zero finally spoke up, glaring at the spot Deku disappeared through. "I've never seen him act like that before." He murmured the last bit.

Shoto brought out his own phone. "I think we should call in help on this case.”

Ground Zero crossed his arms, staggering slightly but he caught his balance. “People you trust.” He muttered. “People he trusts.”

Chapter 3

#midoriya izuku #midoriya x reader #pro hero midoriya #pro hero bakugo #pro hero Deku #izuku x reader #izuku midoria x reader #izuku x y/n #mha #bnha #my hero academia #pro hero todoroki #All Might #angst #kidnapping #mystery #reader insert #Deku is the number one hero #please give this man a hug #he's in desperate need of a hug #all might doing his fatherly duty #Deku is an angry boi today #but also a said boi #Don't get in his way #he is on a mission

[cherrybracelets]

as the world caves in

masterlist | request

spencer reid x bau agent!reader

song inspo: as the world caves in - matt maltese (i highly recommend listening to this before or during reading to fully understand the fic)

summary: you’ve worked in the bau for almost a year now, but this is your toughest case to date. when the unsub puts you and spencer in a near death situation, the complex feeling of mortality causes you to bear your souls to one another 

word count: 6k | warnings: no smut but it is typical criminal minds violence, plot centers around reader being held hostage by an unsub so there is tying up, reader getting hurt, etc. pls be cautious when reading if that makes you uncomfortable

Your head was pounding, the sound of phones ringing and private chatter ringing through your ears. You shakily poured a cup of coffee, closing your eyes momentarily as you tried to wake yourself up. You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was barely five in the morning. You yawned obnoxiously, assuming no one was around you. But when you heard a quiet snicker from behind, you knew immediately you were not alone. You spun around quickly to see Emily, waving as she set her bag down on her desk. 

“Pretty early to be called in. Must be important,” she concurred, pouring herself a cup of stale FBI coffee as well. 

“Do you ever get used to it?” You groaned, taking a long swig of the cheap coffee. You had doused it with milk and sugar to make it consumable, but it still left a nasty taste in your mouth with each sip. You knew you wouldn’t make it without caffeine, though, so you stomached it down. 

“I’ve been here… five years, now? I can assure you it doesn't get easier,” she laughed. You had missed her laugh, when she was gone. She had become a wonderful mentor to you, and when you thought you lost her, you were shattered. Having her back has been enough to get you through the tough cases, which seemed to be escalating with each one. 

“You know, next week is my one year anniversary with the BAU,” you smiled, excited of your first milestone with the team. The BAU was an exceptionally hard job, and many people didn’t make it as long as you had. It was something to be proud of. 

“You’re kidding! Congratulations, (Y/N).” 

“Thank you!”

You saw Hotch and Derek walk in out of the corner of your eye, deep in conversation. You were sure it was an important one, the look on Hotch’s face confirming your suspicions. They walked straight to the conference room, not even looking up to notice you and Emily. You gave Emily a look, and you were both thinking the same thing. ‘We better get our asses in there.’

You followed Emily into the room, Garcia getting the case ready to present. The rest of the team filtered in over the next few minutes, riddled with dark circles, cups of coffee and worry. There wasn’t much small talk made, everyone too out of it to pretend to talk about what they did last weekend. 

“Good morning everyone, thanks for coming in so early,” Hotch addressed, standing up as he welcomed everyone. “We’ve got a bit of a weird case, today. Garcia, why don’t you go ahead and present.” 

“Okay, my loves. This is a bit of a weird one, so strap in to keep up with me. A 21 year old female, Emily Davies, was abducted yesterday morning from the parking lot in her apartment complex. Now, the lot did have security cameras, but the unsub cut the internet cable and they can’t download the video until the can fix the wire.”’

“He’s smart, probably knew it would slow us down. And shows he has knowledge in wiring and electrics.” Derek added. 

“Exactly. The police believe we should have the footage by the time we land. Now here’s where it gets weird. Two hours after she was abducted, there was a shooting at a gas station about 30 miles outside of the city, off I75. Three dead, including the worker. No cameras there, unfortunately.”

“How do we know it’s the unsub?” You questioned, failing to see the connection between the two crimes. 

“Ah, my darling, if there wasn’t a connection we wouldn’t be called in. Our unsub left a note at this crime scene. It read, ‘They were going to take her. I couldn’t let them take her. She is mine, we are in love. Please, leave us be.’” Garcia then pulled up photos of the crime scene and the note on the monitor. 

“These are clean shots, straight to the head, execution style,” Reid said, studying the photos on the screen. 

“He knows how to use a gun, that’s for sure.” Rossi added.

“The 911 call was made by a customer who walked in to see the carnage about a half hour after the unsub left. They believe he is continuing to drive North, but we currently have no idea what him or his car look like.” 

“If he didn’t kill again, he most likely stopped somewhere. He may be lowing low in a roadside motel to keep us off his trail,” Reid said. 

“The gas station seemed unplanned. The abduction was thorough, leaving no evidence. But this scene is sloppy, and rushed. They must’ve seen Emily and panicked, and he shot em. This was never part of the plan, and now he’s freaking out.”

“That’s a good point, Emily’s face is all over the news now. He’d need a place to rest for a bit until he can come up with the rest of his plan. How exactly did people discover that Emily was missing?” You asked, curious about the rest of the unsubs plan. 

“Well, it was actually kind of a fluke, but very helpful for us. Her boyfriend, Michael Adams, discovered she was gone when he came home early from work. He wasn’t supposed to be home for another six hours, but something had happened and they sent him home. He called 911 when he realized her phone, keys, and bag were all at home but she was nowhere to be found. They aren’t sure exactly what time she went missing, but at that point Michael had only been gone for two hours.”

“This guy had to have been stalking her. He knew to take her on a day she’d be alone for hours, he knew to cut the wires for the security cameras… this was meticulously planned,” Derek responded. 

“Except what he didn’t plan for was the boyfriend getting home early, and Emily’s face plastered everywhere. He thought he’d have more time to get away,” JJ added. 

“If he truly doesn’t want to be separated from her, it’s only a matter of time before he kills again. Anybody that gets in their way will die, if we don’t stop him. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch instructed, dismissing you all as you separated to prepare for another trip. 

You lingered in the conference room for a moment, staring at the photos on the monitor. An uncomfortable feeling floated through you, chills up your spine as you stared at the crime scene. It was far tamer than most things you’d seen during your time here, but something about it made you uneasy. Spencer had noticed you staying back, and he stayed in the room as well. Once everyone cleared out, he cleared his throat to let you know he was there. You turned to him, not sure if you should tell him how you felt or not. Was it weak to say you were nervous? 

“You okay?” He asked calmly, his eyes avoiding yours as he waited for your answer. 

“I… just have a bad feeling about this case. Does that ever happen to you?”

“Mmm, yes.” He chuckled slightly, running a hand through his hair. “And usually, I’m right.” 

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

The plane landed in Cincinnati only a few hours later, cars awaiting to take you to the police station upon arrival. You were grateful to hear that they were able to pull the security footage from the lot Emily was abducted, and it was ready to be viewed when you arrived at the station. 

You got in a car with Derek and Spencer, a duo that you usually tried to avoid. Derek always joked with you and Spencer that the two of you had a crush on each other. Although it was slightly true on your part, and your heart did race every time Spencer walked into a room, it was embarrassing to see Spencer so confidently deny any feelings for you. 

But, Hotch sent the three of you to the station, instructing you to study the security tapes. The rest of them were going to talk to the boyfriend and visit the crime scene. You sat awkwardly in the back seat, trying to keep quiet, not wanting to say anything that would entice Derek. 

“Judging by the way he worded this note, our unsub is most definitely in love with Emily. Do you think she knew him?” Spencer turned to you, and then to Derek, waiting for someone to respond. 

“It’s impossible to say. There was no sign of forced entry in the apartment.” Derek responded.

“They think she was taking her trash out when she was abducted. Explains why she left all of her things inside, and the door was unlocked,” you added, wanting to be a part of the conversation. Although it had been almost a year, you still felt like you had to constantly prove yourself when you were with them. 

“Even if she knew him, you wouldn’t get in someone's car without your phone, or wallet. He had to have had a weapon,” Derek said. 

“The gun he used to kill everyone in the gas station, probably,” Spencer muttered. You all stayed silent for the rest of the drive, your brain taking a quiet moment to think through the details of the case. 

The police station wasn’t too far from the airport, and you got there pretty quickly. You always felt so small in the police stations, usually dealing with male detectives or sheriffs or cops. You felt like you’d drown in testosterone, and everyone would be so busy in a dick measuring contest that they couldn’t save you. As you walked into the station, you were greeted by yet again another male detective who reeked of desperation and Viagra. 

“Hi, I’m Detective Elijah Guthrie. Thank you so much for coming.” He shook all of your hands, welcoming you into his station. 

“Where do you have the security tapes set up?” Reid asked quickly, realizing the urgency of this case, and that we didn't have time for small talk. 

“Conference room. Everything you said you needed is set up there, as well.” 

“Awesome, we should go get started, then,” Derek smiled, leading the three of you into the room. 

You all sat down and watched the tapes, replaying them over and over to catch every detail that you could. Luckily, the unsub cut the wires after he took the girl. It seemed sloppy, on his end. He had to know eventually that we’d get the footage. But he was smart enough to make sure his face was nowhere in view. Although, his car was still in view, and you were able to pull a plate number. 

“Garcia, baby girl, can you hear me?” 

“Loud and clear. What can I do for you, my sweets?” 

“Run a plate for us. Ohio plates, number EUE 8561.” 

“Of course, give me uno momento....” You could hear the sound of Garcia typing away, finding the mysterious man. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if any of these cases would get solved without her. 

“Alright, I got your man. 24 year old Jacob Lane.” “Are we sure our unsub didn’t just steal this guy’s car?” 

“Good point, Garcia check to see if Jacob has any connection to Emily.” 

“Gotcha… oh, man. Looks like he grew up in the same town that she did.” 

“Well, that’s suspicious,” Derek responded, raising his eyebrows. “Alright, thanks baby. Try and dig up some more on this guy.” He hung up the phone, staring at the paused video in front of him. 

“(Y/N), you call Hotch and give him the update. There’s a good chance this guy’s our unsub. Reid, call JJ and have her ask the boyfriend if they knew this guy.” You and Reid both looked at each other and nodded, standing up and walking into the hallway to complete your tasks. You dialed Hotch’s number swiftly, listening to the ringing as you awaited him to answer. 

“Hotchner,” he answered, sternly. 

“Hey, it’s me. I think we got our guy- Jacob Lane. The car that Emily got into was registered to him, and he grew up in the same town as her. Garcia is digging up some more info, and Reid is on the phone with JJ, gonna see what we can get from the boyfriend.” 

“Alright, well we’ve just been informed there was another shooting. This time at a motel not too far from the gas station. We’re gonna head there, now.” 

“How many, this time?” You asked, dreading the answer. 

“Six. Doesn’t look like anybody made it out.” 

You stayed silent, your head spinning as you thought of six more dead bodies, six more grieving families. 

“Thanks, Hotch.” You hung up your phone, walking back towards Reid and Derek. 

“Detective Guthrie just told me there’s been another shooting,” Derek said to you, unaware if you had been informed. 

“Yeah, Hotch just told me. We have to get this guy before he does this again.” 

“Unfortunately, most cases with spree killers like this end in hostage situations, and eventually suicide by cop. Spree killers' motivations are usually very similar.” Reid stated, his voice emotionless as he rattled off his facts. He was obviously right, and you felt sick as you thought of standing face to face with this man, 

“I’m gonna go talk to Emily’s parents, see if they knew anything about Jacob. You guys stay in here and go over everything we have so far, see if we missed anything.” 

“Alright. Thanks, Derek.” 

He left the room quietly, walking out to find the family. You started looking over the video again, straining your eyes to see if you could make out any overlooked details. But it was the same every time, there was nothing new to report. You were angry, not feeling any closer to catching this guy. 

“What do you make of this?” You asked Spencer, hoping his genius brain would come up with an explanation yours couldn’t. 

“He loves a girl, tries to take her away with him, gets caught and panics, starts killing anybody that calls him out. It’s pretty straight forward. Although, the way he’s killing them is unique. The actual crime seems rushed and panicked, but the killings themselves and calm and exact. One shot, the same place. It’s too… perfect.” 

“He’s killed before,” you concluded, feeling your heart racing as you thought of more victims at the hand of Jacob. 

“Yes, but most likely in the military. These are execution style deaths. This M.O. is very specific to military personnel.” 

“And you would be correct, boy genius,” Garcia shouted through the speaker on the desk, her voice scaring you slightly. “Jacob Lane was in the Air Force. He was deployed once to Iraq, he got back about six months and was recently relocated to Cincinnati.” 

“So something must’ve happened between Emily and Jacob in the past, and when he moved back and saw her again, it must’ve been the trigger. Topped with PTSD, he could’ve easily snapped.” 

“What exactly did he do in Iraq?” 

“Ah, that is classified information, according to the US government. But no worries, nothing is too classified for me. Our buddy Jacob executed war criminals during his time overseas.” 

“Well, that explains the M.O.,” you chuckled, running a hand through your hair, shaking your head in disgust. 

“Other than that, he had a relatively normal life. Average in school, normal family. He bounced around colleges a bit before deciding to enlist, but there’s no red flags.” 

“Could you find any other link between him and Emily?”  

“Well, that’s the other thing. Jacob deleted all of his social media accounts when he got back from Iraq. Twitter, Instagram… everything, gone. But, just because he deleted it does not mean the record doesn’t exist somewhere. I am currently trying to unlock all of his accounts and see if I can find anything, but it’ll take a bit.” 

“Alright, Garcia, call us if you get anything. Thank you,” you replied, disconnecting the call. Spencer had stepped away for a moment, answering his phone. 

“If this guy had a perfectly normal life, why is he doing this?” You asked, your nails digging into your palms in frustration. 

“The military… doing what he did… it could mess a lot of normal people up. Plus, there may be more to the story than we know.” 

“Yeah, there is. Listen to this,” Spencer said, walking into the room and putting his phone on speaker. 

“Hey, it’s me,” JJ said, her voice flowing softly through the phone. “So we talked to the boyfriend, and there is a long history between Emily and Jacob. They met when she was 18, and they were both dating different people. They had apparently had an affair of sorts, though, leading Jacob to break up with his girlfriend for her. But apparently Emily decided to stay with her boyfriend and ditch Jacob. That’s when he joined the military. Before he left for training camp, Emily’s boyfriend committed suicide. Blamed Emily and Jacob for ruining his life.” 

“Jesus…” you muttered under her breath. 

“Well, it gets more interesting. Emily picked up and moved to Florida, after that, transferring to a college down there. She was apparently trying to start over. Her and Jacob didn’t talk for two years, but he was relocated to the same town she was in, and they met up again. They started dating, and that’s when he got deployed. About a month after he left, Emily claimed he started acting really weird, to the point where it was scaring her. She broke up with him and blocked him on all social media.” 

“The boyfriend knew all of this?” 

“She told him because apparently she was afraid of Jacob. She told her boyfriend that if something ever happened to her, she was sure it was Jacob.” 

“Why wouldn’t he have mentioned something sooner?” 

“He didn’t think it was a big deal. Plus, until two weeks ago, he was living in Florida.” 

“Exactly. And he got moved here, found out Emily was here and had a boyfriend, and that was probably the trigger.”

“What I don’t understand is how Emily just… dropped him? She was clearly terrified of him, what could he have possibly done to give her that reaction?”

“He could have told her what he was doing down there. That job is not for someone with a soft heart. She probably couldn’t stomach the thought of being with a man who…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, your mouth choking up your words as they tried to come up. 

“We need to make a statement to the press. The public needs to know who to look for.” 

“I’ll call the media and put together a press conference. I’ll see you guys soon.” JJ hung up, and Spencer put his phone away. The three of you stayed silent for a moment, staring at each other in awe as your minds wrapped around the information. Part of you felt bad for him. He joined the military to get away, and they stuck him in a job that ruined his humanity. And the girl you love turns away from you when you need her most… 

“The hardest part of the job is not to feel bad for the unsubs,” you laughed, your mouth dry and your forehead sweating as you felt more and more anxious about the future of this case. 

“It’s refreshing, actually. To see someone else with enough empathy to feel for someone who has done so many bad things. It’s a sign of a beautiful heart,” Spencer said, his eyes meeting yours as he spoke. You smiled at him, redness creeping up your cheeks as you felt your nerves tingling at his words. 

“Oh, I’m sure Spencer thinks about your beautiful heart all the time, (Y/N),” Derek teased, causing Spencer to blush as well, and quickly dart his eyes away from you. 

“No… c’mon Derek. Why do you have to turn everything into this? Can’t I just be nice to her!” Spencer groaned, pushing Derek slightly on the arm in frustration. 

“We’ve got a problem,” Det. Guthrie yelled, bursting through the door of the conference room and, thankfully, interrupting Derek. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Emily escaped. She just walked into the police station.” 

“How is that a problem?” 

“Because Jacob just shot up another place. A diner, this time. We just got the call a minute ago. We’re only a few minutes away. He must’ve come back to the city after Emily got away.” 

“(Y/N), you and Reid go to the crime scene. I’m going to stay here and talk to Emily.” 

“Alright, we’ll leave now, call us if you need anything.” 

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

The drive was quick, helped greatly by the use of your sirens. You sped quickly to the diner, you and Reid the first to arrive on the scene. The witness who had called it in greeted you with sobs, not having time to console her as the two of you went quickly inside. The scene was similar to the previous ones, eight bodies, all shot directly in the center of the head. You noticed something wrong, pretty quickly. 

“Reid…” you whispered, staring quietly at a table next to you. 

“What’s up?” 

“Do you see that?” You pointed helplessly to a small plate accompanied with an ever smaller cup, stars and smiley faces printed onto it. 

“That’s a kids meal.” 

“There’s not a kid in here, Reid.” You looked at him nervously, your whole body burning as you imagined the child that Jacob took. 

“There’s a note here, (Y/N)...” Reid handed a crumpled napkin with a sloppy note written across it. 

“Is it an address?” 

“It’s definitely the unsubs handwriting. I studied the previous note, there’s no doubt he wrote this.” 

“This address is only a few minutes away…” 

“We need to leave, now. I’ll call Hotch and tell him to send backup.” Reid ran out of the diner and to the car, and you followed behind quickly. Other cops were now pulling in to the crime scene, and you let them know you were leaving but to stay with the bodies and take care of calling the families. You still weren’t sure who in there had a kid, and you wanted to notify the rest of the family if you could. 

You and Spencer called Hotch in the car, letting him know where you were headed. He told you him and Rossi would be there in twenty minutes or so. Spencer was swerving in and out of traffic, trying to get to the location the unsub left for you. When you finally arrived, you were surprised to find a secluded barn near a small patch of land. You pulled up and got out of the car, arming yourselves as you got near the building. 

“We should wait for backup, Reid… this could be a trap…” you said with caution, a wave of nerves flooding you as you stood in front of the building. 

“He could have a little kid in there, (Y/L/N)... we have to go in.” 

“Spencer, you know that’s not the right protocol.” 

“When has protocol ever done us any good?” 

Spencer starting walking towards the door, and you couldn’t bear to see him go in alone. You followed reluctantly, walking through the open door. As soon as you walked through the doors, you saw him. The face in the photos was finally right in front of you, holding a small item in his hands. You couldn’t make out what it was, you were too focused on the boy, who was tied to a chair next to him. 

“Hello, agents. Thank you for joining me,” Jacob said, smiling devilishly at the two of you. 

“You need to let the boy go, Jacob,” you instructed, your voice remain quiet and calm and your mind spun in circles. 

“That’s not how this is going to go. Do you know what this is?” He waved the device in his hands, smiling down proudly at it. You knew then exactly what he was holding in his hands. 

“It’s a bomb…” 

“Exactly. And if I don’t get exactly what I want, it’s going to detonate. Are we clear?” He looked at you specifically, as if he was nervous you would be the one to try and defy him. 

“Yes,” Spencer answered for you, looking upset as he realized you were right. This was a trap, one that the two of you walked so easily into. 

“Put your weapons down, first,” he instructed, pointing at your guns. The two of you placed them down on the ground slowly, avoiding eye contact with him. 

“Wonderful. Now, I want you to call your boss and tell him I would like to speak with him.” 

You nodded in agreeal, slowly pulling out your phone. You dialed Hotch’s number, your hands shaking as you pressed the buttons. Your heart felt as if it was going to explode, bringing the phone to your ear as you listened to it ring. 

“We’re almost there, what’s going on?” His voice made you feel safe, calm, knowing he would get you out of there safely. He had to get you out. You couldn’t die… not here… not now. 

“Hotch, we’re here with Jacob, and he’d like to talk to you,” you said shakily, your voice trembling as you got the words out. 

“(Y/N)? What’s going on?” 

You handed Jacob the phone, which he ripped out of your hand and placed to his own ear. 

“Listen carefully. I want her back. I want a plane out of here for both of us, or I blow the kid and your two agents up? Is that understood?” You strained hard to see if you could hear Hotch’s voice, but you couldn’t make anything out. You looked over to Spencer, who was staring helplessly at the ground. 

You didn’t bother listening to the rest of Jacob’s conversation with Hotch, not wanting to hear his voice anymore. It was you sick to think about him. When he finally finished, he threw the phone back at you. He walked up to you, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your face back to look at him. 

“It would be a shame to kill you… You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, smiling down at you. He pulled hard on your hair, knocking you to the ground with all of his force. You slammed onto the dirt hard, feeling your body jolt as you landed. You felt pain shoot through your body, screaming loudly. 

“Don’t touch her again!” Spencer yelled, running towards him violently. Jacob pulled a gun and pointed it at his head, which made him stop in his tracks. 

“Don’t take another step. Since you want to be her knight in shining armor so bad, why don’t you go ahead and tie her up,” Jacob instructed, pointing the gun at a pile of rope in the corner. Spencer walked slowly over to it, grabbing the rope and tying your hands behind your back. As he tightened the knot, he whispered to you quietly. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words bouncing back and forth in your head as Jacob pushed you to the ground and continued to tie up Spencer. After he finished, he sat Spencer next to you. He had put the two of you in the corner, out of sight and mind. You were aggravating Jacob, you could tell. If he could just tie you up and place you in the corner, he wouldn’t have anything to throw him off. 

“Are you okay?” Spencer whispered, looking concerned at your now bruising body. 

“A little sore, but I’ll be fine. What are we gonna do here, Spence?” 

“The team will get us out, okay. I promise.” 

You watched Jacob on the other side of the room, pacing slowly as he awaited another call that would give him his demands. You started to hear the sound of sirens pull up, feeling slightly relieved knowing they were right outside those walls. The sound of helicopters overhead was prominent, and you noticed Jacob wincing as it got louder. 

“Does the sound of helicopters bother you?” You shouted to him, trying to get his attention away from the boy. 

“Shut up! Do I need to tape your mouth shut, too?” He was aggravated, waving his gun around and placing a hand on his head. 

“My dad was in the Army… helicopters reminded him of his time overseas. He’d have a panic attack every time he heard one…” You said, trying to relate to him. If you couldn’t use force to bring him down, maybe you could sympathize with him. 

“It’s just so loud…” he winced, closing his eyes as if all of his senses were betraying him. 

“Let me talk to my boss, if he knew how much they hurt you I bet he’d call them off…” 

Jacob considered your proposal for a moment, the idea of the pain going away calling to him. But he was smart, and realized quickly what was going on. 

“Are you trying to trick me? Do you think you can outsmart me? I have been ahead of you this entire time.” 

“Except you didn’t plan on Emily’s boyfriend coming home early, and you didn’t plan on her escaping, did you? None of this was a part of the plan.” Spencer looked at him desperately, and you wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him and feel him holding you. If you were to die here, today, it would be nice to die in the arms of someone you cared about. You desperately craved his touch, especially now. Who knows if this would be your last chance to experience him? 

“All I want is for me and Emily to be together, okay? Don’t you get that? Have you ever been in love?” 

“I have… and I know how much you love Emily. But if you kill us, you’ll be killing yourself, too. And then Emily will never get to hear how you really feel. Because that’s what all of this is about, right? You just want her to know how you feel?” 

“I told her everything. I bore everything to her and she walked away. It… hurt.” Jacob was crying, tears crawling down his face as he shook the gun in his hand. 

“I don’t want to die without telling the girl I love how I feel. I know you don’t, either, Jacob. We can all walk out of here and you can see her again.” Spencer looked at you, his eyes pleading for your attention as he spoke.

“I don’t want to get locked up, I can’t live like that…” Jacob continued to cry, and you desperately wanted to give him a hug. He was evil, and you despised him, but he was broken and alone and needed a hug.

“No, no. I am not letting you talk me into this… you both shut up and leave me alone!” He yelled, running away from you and back to the young boy. You let out a long sigh, feeling your own tears starting to form. You really thought you might’ve had him this time. But he was too smart, and he wouldn’t fall for any of your tricks. 

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I should be able to save you, and I can’t…” Spencer was pale, his forehead sweating as he leaned against the wall. 

“Spencer, don’t apologize. It is nobody's job to take care of me, except myself.”

“I don’t want to die in here without telling you how I feel, (Y/N).” 

“What are you talking about, Spence?” 

“I am crazy about you. I have been in love with you for months. And every time I think I might want to say something, Derek makes some stupid joke and you get awkward and I realize if I say anything I’d risk our friendship but I’m sorry, I can’t die here with you and not tell you I’m in love with you.” 

“Spencer…” was the only thing you managed to get out. You opened your mouth to try to say more, but the sound of your cell phone ringing stopped you. Jacob ran quickly to the phone, picking it up and placing it on speaker. He looked at you to make sure you were listening. He wanted you to know your entire lives depended on whatever happened on this one phone call. 

“Jacob?” A small female voice came on the line, one that you had not recognized. “Jacob, it’s me, it’s Emily.” 

“Emily!” He cried, placing a hand over his heart as he heard her voice. 

“Jacob, I am right outside for you. I promise we can walk away together if you just leave your weapons inside and come out.” You could hear the pain in her voice and she said those words, knowing how hard it must’ve been for her to do this. But she was the only thing that could end this, that could save four lives. She didn’t have a choice. 

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? You ran away from me, Emily!” Jacob cried into the phone, his voice shaky and his face swollen from tears. 

“I have always loved you, Jacob. I have told you everything. You have to believe me. I’m right on the other side of the door. Put down the weapons and show them you’re unarmed, and we can walk away together.” 

You watched him closely, patiently waiting for his response. You had never been a religious person, but you prayed to whoever was listening that you could walk away from this. 

“Spencer… if we don’t make it out, I want you to know I love you, too. And if we do get out of here, please take me far away from here,” you cried, leaning your head on his shoulder and begging the universe for your life. He kissed the top your head, a small comfort that calmed you down. You watched Jacob slowly look over at the two of you, staying as close as you could, savoring love even in the last moments of your life. 

You think it was that moment, him seeing two people in love and remembering what it felt like, that caused him to walk out. He slowly set the gun down, and another small device that you believed was the detonator. He walked through the doors, the sound of a bullet crunching through the air immediately as he stepped outside. You heard the screams of a girl, who was probably dealing with love and loss and pain all in one second, watching the man she loved and feared dying in front of her own eyes. 

SWAT and the Bomb Squad came in shortly after, JJ and Derek running in to find the two of you. Emily and Rossi took care of the child as the other two untied you. They walked you outside, JJ pulling you far from Spencer and into an ambulance. 

“JJ, I promise I’m fine, but I really need to go see Spencer…” You tried to stand up and walk past her, but you were a little dizzy and she pushed you back down pretty quickly. You saw Spencer arguing with Derek as well, probably for the same reason you were trying to push through JJ. 

“Can I take your blood pressure, Agent?” The paramedic said, holding up an arm band and trying to wrap it around you. You angrily refused, finally getting on your feet and walking away from JJ. She realized it wasn’t worth chasing you down, that you would get checked out when you were good and ready. 

You ran towards Spencer, who was still being blocked by Derek. You pushed passed cops and paramedics and everything in between, your eyes only on the man you loved. The man who loved you. When you finally got to him, he wrapped his arms around you in relief. He held you for a moment, before letting go and kissing you. It was a kiss full of life, celebrating existence and love. 

“Hah, friendly my ass…” Derek whispered, rolling his eyes as he walked away from the two of you. 

“Take me away from here, Spencer Reid.” 

“Wherever you wanna go.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid one shot #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg #mgg x reader

[kj-1130]

HIRAETH

Chapter 1

Main Masterlist

Tensions were high in the conference room. Nothing had ever been the same since the fight that was dubbed as the ‘civil war’. It was petty and stupid, really. Plenty of things could’ve been done to avoid it and there were larger matters at hand that needed to be managed.

Evil never takes breaks. That was something the Avengers had to learn when missions went from monthly to weekly to almost daily. Breaks were rare and if they did occur, most were spent resting--or attempting to rest. The things they saw were literal nightmare fuel. It was a miracle they were still properly functioning.

It wasn’t a surprise when they were called into the conference room. It was an all-hands-on-deck situation that required any childish squabbles to be put to rest for a moment.

Shocking enough, Tony and Steve weren’t actively trying to bite each other’s heads off. The most that had occurred was a couple of dirty glances or cold shoulders. The fact that a major contribution to their ‘civil war’ was sitting at the table wasn’t particularly helping anyone either.

“You know, for someone who has died a lot you sure do look alive and well.”

Fury rolled his one good eye at the sly comment as he walked in with his long trench coat trailing behind him. It wasn’t unusual for the billionaire to make witty and sarcastic remarks, but they could tiring very, very quickly.

With quick hands, the former director grabbed a USB from his pocket and connected it to the laptop that was conveniently placed at the head of the table. Once fully loaded, a video popped up.

It was obviously bodycam footage. From whose perspective they didn’t know. As the person walked through dingy hallways in some sort of base, they reached a door that stood out against the decaying walls around it.

A gun was raised as the door was pushed open. Searching the area, the agent found a figure that was lingering in the shadows. The weapon was then cocked; ready to use.

“Come out.”

The redhead immediately rolled her eyes at the scene. Apparently, this was some rookie that didn’t know what the hell they were doing. She could count five mistakes that were made in just one second.

A heavy breath sounded throughout the four concrete walls. Suddenly the agent fell, causing the perspective of the camera to become one of an ant. Choked breaths were heard, the agent obviously struggling to get air into their lungs.

A barefoot timidly made its way in the view before a body followed. What they could only assume to be the prisoner crouched down and glared at the camera with chilling eyes. A flash of purple struck their vision before the screen turned to static.

“The agent was found dead in that cell,” the former director started. “I was told that the cause of death was cardiac arrest.”

Glances were passed throughout the room.

“There was no history of heart complications, no marks that would indicate drugs that could have possibly been injected during that time, nothing. Their heart just stopped.”

And they thought they had seen everything.

Moments of silence had passed; each hero being left to dwell on their thoughts.

“I thought that base was supposed to be abandoned.”

Steve was instantly intrigued, to say the least. The hero out of time had his fair share of Hydra and wanted it gone. Permanently.

But as they always say, “Cut off one head, and two will take its place.”

“It was. It was a simple recon mission; only one agent was really needed.”

“Until it wasn’t,” the billionaire muttered.

The captain looked at the man with a frown that seemed to be etched on his face 24/7 as of late.

“Is everything a joke to you?”

“Funny things are.”

Natasha rolled her eyes for the fifteenth time in the last five minutes. The two of those were constantly at each other’s throats. You’d think after the whole war between the team, they would have attempted to make amends or compromise.

God, this sexual tension is infuriating.

Wanda snickered, the sound muffled due to her hand hovering above her mouth.

“Is there something you’d like to add, Maximoff?”

The young woman frowned at the self-proclaimed leader of the bunch.

Steve had been so uptight lately, she thought his nipples were going to eventually tear through those tight shirts of his.

But alas, that hadn’t happened (yet).

It was just the thought; a silly little thought that kept her going through all of the stress from the past few months.

“No problem, captain.”

Wanda wasn’t very fond of this attitude--hell none of them were.

The fights between the playboy and the ‘man out of time’ were downright childish and unnecessary, annoying the team to no end.

Well, were they even a team anymore? Cause they sure didn’t act like it.

They were no longer each other’s family and deep, deep down they knew that it would be their downfall.

“Figure out what the hell happened.”

The swoosh of Fury’s long-ass coat seemed louder than it usually was. Maybe that’s because there was no sound other than the ticking of the clock and the air conditioner. Maybe it was the lack of arguing that typically occurred in this room.

Either way, not one of the eleven people, gods, synthezoids, whatever, could bring themselves to even open their mouths. They couldn’t speak because it was as if the tension that lingered sat on their chests, restricting their lungs from expanding. It was as if the compartmentalized and leftover emotions were in a box that was jammed in their throats, prohibiting so much as a squeak to escape. Perhaps that is why Tony stood and left the room because he knew that his family--if he could call them that--could read him best. And he didn’t want anyone to read every single emotion that swirled through his eyes.

It was like a game of following the leader began. One by one, everyone left, and soon, the room was empty except for the barely-filled files and the video repeatedly playing in the background.

#avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x black!reader #avengers!reader #avengers x oc #avengers x black!oc #natasha romanoff #black widow #bucky barnes #winter soldier #clint barton #hawkeye #steve rogers #captain marvel #tony stark #iron man #tony stank #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #peter parker #spiderman #bruce banner #hulk #thor #loki #vision #james rhodes

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Poison: Part Four

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fluff and angst

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

The hospital isn’t a good place for you to be in because of all the patients coming in and pretending to be sick, but it’s a lot better than the police station only because Spencer isn’t there. He’s here with you, so you’re able to focus on him instead of all the panic. You need to figure out which cases are real so you can determine just where they were poisoned and how to stop it from happening again.

“I really can't talk right now. We just got hammered,” the nurse sighs.

“Listen, most of these food poisonings are probably psychosomatic,” you reveal.

“What makes you think that?”

“A news broadcast just reported a local restaurant was poisoned. Now, it would be a huge coincidence if there was another poisoning right after that aired,” JJ explains for you.

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Help us find out which cases, if any, are real,” Spencer answers.

“People are coming in with all kinds of complaints. But, there's at least one case that isn't psychosomatic. Lynn Dempsey. She's barely breathing.”

“Can you take us to the doctor that's treating that patient?”

“I'll call Hotch,” JJ says and takes out her phone.

The doctor comes almost immediately just as soon as JJ is done updating your boss. The doctor escorts you to the woman who has a hard time breathing, and you can tell this is a real case based on what the doctor says as well as the vibes you’re getting from the woman.

“When the patient got here, she didn't remember anything about her day. Her speech was so slurred, I could barely understand her,” the doctor reveals.

“It sounds like Rohypnol. Did you test her?” Spencer wonders.

“She was positive for Rohypnol, negative for LSD. But we're running more tests because Rohypnol alone doesn't explain her symptoms. She presented with nausea, difficulty swallowing, and labored breathing. She was also having trouble moving her legs.”

“How long had she been sick?” you ask.

“She didn't know. I could barely understand her when she first got here. Now, she can't speak at all.”

“Do you know any biological agents that have similar symptoms: ricin or sarin gas?” Spencer asks.

“You think this is a biological attack?”

“We can't rule anything out.”

“I'll order a few more tests,” he sighs and leaves you three alone with the woman.

The poor woman is coughing and having a hard time breathing into her oxygen mask. She whimpers in pain, tosses and turns, and just looks like she isn’t having that much fun.

“I’ll take a look at her. Let me see if I can get anything out of her,” you offer.

“She can’t speak,” JJ says.

“I don’t need that to communicate with her,” you say and walks over to the woman.

Lynn barely opens her eyes to look at you, and you give her the kindest eyes you can muster up.

“Hi, my name is Y/N Y/L/N. I am only here to help. May I take your hand?” you ask and hold out your own.

She seems too eager to do so, and she grabs your hand as if it will cure her. Almost immediately upon contact, you get visions of her past right before she was poisoned. Your eyes close as the images transmit to you. Lynn is at the bank. She’s in line waiting to get some money taken out of her account. She grabs some candy out of a bowl as she waits and decides to cut her wait time in half by grabbing an envelope and writing her information down on it. She takes a step forward when the man in front of her does, and that’s where the vision ends. There is nothing out of the ordinary that is going on, so you’re not sure why you got that specific scene.

You open your eyes and look at Spencer and JJ. They half-expected you to get a definitive clue or something to lead them down a path, but you just shake your head. Your hand slips from Lynn’s, but as soon as you lose contact, she reaches up and grips your hand tightly. You look back at her to see her eyes open wide. She stopped coughing long enough to want to tell you something.

“JJ, Spencer, I think she’s trying to say something,” you say.

“The end…” Lynn barely gets out before having a coughing fit.

“The end…?” JJ questions.

You close your eyes once more in hopes that whatever she’s trying to tell you will show up in the visions you get. All you’re getting, however, is her picking up an envelope from the bank so she can use it for her money purposes.

“She may be incoherent from the lack of oxygen,” Spencer states.

Lynn pulls away hastily and turns on her side to let out a coughing fit. You take one step back and look at Spencer with a sad look.

“Doctor!” JJ calls. Once he’s inside Lynn’s room, she continues. “So, what are the chances that she's not poisoned, that maybe she just got some bad food?”

“Highly improbable. Chances are basically nil.”

“What is the rate of survival?” you ask.

“With this dose and without anti-toxin... zero.”

Lynn suddenly goes into V-Fib, and Spencer grips your shoulders to gently move you out of the way. You step back into his body to let the doctor and nurses through,  but you don’t move once they do pass. You’re basically watching Lynn slowly die right in front of your eyes, and there is nothing you can do to help her. All you got is her at the bank, touching some candy, and writing on an envelope. How the hell is that going to help anyone?

“Doctor, her BP is dropping rapidly,” the nurse states.

Lynn’s heart can't hold out any longer, and you turn away so you don’t have to watch her die. You shrug out of Spencer’s arms and leave the hospital room. Him and JJ aren’t that far behind you. If you have even one more soul on your consciousness, there’s no telling what kind of nightmares you’ll have or if you can even handle another soul.

While you were with Lynn and experiencing her last few moments on Earth, Elle and Derek were at the bank looking through the security footage to see if they could spot a common denominator with all the victims. Every single person that was infected came into this bank, so it has to be the key to figuring out where this substance came from and who put it there—most importantly, who is the targeted audience. It’s why experts are testing the candy to see if what she touched is actually poisoned or not.

“Lynn Dempsey was an executive assistant. She has no expertise with chemicals. She doesn't fit the profile of the unsub,” Gideon notes.

“But the CDC found both LSD and Rohypnol in the candy she was replacing at the bank,” Derek says.

“She must have been an accomplice, and when the unsub finished using her to further his attack, he killed her with Botulism.”

“So, what does that tell us about the unsub?” Gideon asks the group.

“He's far more sophisticated than we realized,” you answer.

“Why is that?”

“The Botulism toxin is the deadliest substance known to man. It blocks Acetylcholine receptors, paralyzing its victims until, basically, choking you to death. Without an antitoxin, a lethal dose will kill you in thirty-six hours,” you try to explain, knowing only Spencer will truly understand what you’re saying.

“How many people have access to this stuff?” Elle wonders.

“In New Jersey, quite a few. It's actually the pharmaceutical and chemical capital of the US. So, that the toxin can be ordered in the form of Botox through any chemical or biological lab or Botox clinic. It has to be purified, but any chemist or lab assistant has that capability,” Spencer answers.

“So, we're looking for chemists and sophisticated lab assistants?”

“Basically,” you and Spencer say at the same time.

“Okay, wait a minute. If the unsub is a chemist with access to the toxin, what'd he need Dempsey for?” Derek wonders.

“Well, we don't know yet. But she worked for a company, called, uh... Hichcock Pharmaceuticals. I think there's a good chance the unsub worked there, too,” Gideon reads off his notes.

“Let's start with people who fit the profile who've had a recent stressor.”

“Like, anybody fired from Hichcock in the past six months.”

“Yeah, or demoted. Not recognized for their hard work. Anyone who seems under appreciated. Let me call Penelope,” you state and take out your phone.

You call her, and once you get her over the line, you quickly explain what is going on and what you need her raw talent. You place her on speakerphone for all to hear so you don’t have to repeat what she says.

“Hichcock's a giant company, Sugar Shack, and there were over a hundred people fired just this past year.”

“And so far, none of them fit the profile?”

“No. But, I do have thirty names of people who were downsized and shunted off to other lame companies with a cut in pay and benefits.”

“That’ll work,” you nod.

“Alright, send us the names. We'll cross-reference them with civil and criminal complaints filed with local PD. But I want you to keep digging, and while you're at it, look for any connection to the First New Jersey Federal Bank,” Derek asks ever so nicely.

“I'm on it, Angel,” she says, and you hang up.

“Our guys acting like a workplace mass murderer. He'd stay close—seething—and he'd plan his revenge,” Hotch points out.

“Well, if he is a workplace killer, what else does that tell us about him?”

“For one, they don't give themselves up. He's lost his empathy and his moral compass. He's capable of anything.”

“All those innocent people at the bank,” you mutter regretfully.

“They meant nothing to him. He'll take out anybody to forward his cause,” Gideon says.

“Like Dempsey.”

“Correct, and eventually, even himself. Not until he finishes taking out his primary targets.”

“We have no idea where he's going to strike next. For all we know, he could poison the local reservoir,” Derek groans.

“Well, the local cops haven't gotten any leads out of Dempsey. Why don't you go to Hichcock and see if you have any luck,” Hotch says to Elle who is already out of her chair.

“You got it,” she states and leaves.

Elle didn’t really get anything out of Lynn’s desk. Her assistant told her that Lynn wasn’t the best at holding high self-esteem and was a very quiet person in general. Most assistants and their bosses talk about what goes on in their personal life and are basically friends, but not Lynn and her assistant. She barely knew one thing about Lynn. It came up as a dead end, so you, Derek, and Gideon are researching who got laid off at Hichcock and if it was brutal enough to warrant deadly actions to get revenge.

Derek is sitting at the computer with you looming over his shoulder so you can read what he has up. Gideon is looking at the town’s map to see if he can come up with a geological profile. There haven't been a lot of people who were brutally laid off, but there are some that make you so sad to think that after all the time they spent in the company, it’s wasted.

“Gideon, some of these lay-offs were brutal. This one chemical engineer, he'd been at Hichcock for nineteen years when he was downsized,” Derek notes.

“Damn, that’s harsh,” you mutter.

“Yeah, that could certainly inspire homicidal rage, huh?”

“The guy was in his late forties and the head of his department. He definitely had a generous severance package,” you read.

“A lot of these guys don't have enough pension. They may not be happy about it, but I don't see them killing anyone,” Gideon states.

Derek’s phone rings, and you see that it’s Penelope calling with hopefully some good news. He answers it and puts it on speakerphone.

“Talk to me, Hot Stuff.”

“Get this, Cochise. I found a chemist who works at a company that was bought by Hichcock called Palmay Cosmetics. Now, here's the thing. Lynn Dempsey applied for a loan at New Jersey Federal Bank around the same time this chemist applied for a patent on this anti-aging, breakthrough technology thing called PCO-99.”

“So, you’re saying he applied for a loan in her name to make his product?” you ask.

“That's what I thought, but both the loan and the patent were rejected because Hichcock had already applied for the patent and the patent deal had gone through, drumroll please, at New Jersey Federal Bank. I'm tracking his cell phone and it won't be long before I have his location.”

wanna be tagged? add yourself to this document! if your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

@averyhotchner​ @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel​ @fan-girl-97​ @paulaern​ @inkstainedwritergirl​ @estrela-rogers​ @abitchforjay​ @kwbaby24​ @redsalv20​ @joonie-centric​ @spencerreid-mgg​ @sixpencespencee​ @boygenius-reid​ @reidemandweep​ @prophecyflame​ @happynekochan1​

#poison #series rewrite #criminal minds series rewrite #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #cm fanfiction #season 1 episode 13 #s1e13

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Don’t Treat My Love Like A Habit Part Eight

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Pairing: Santiago Garcia x Reader Rating: Mature (this may change) Warnings: Cursing; a pinch of fluff followed by a smidge of angst Notes: Set before the movie. Not beta-read. Reina is Spanish for Queen. Also there’s a song that comes up later and it doesn’t like come up but the song that I imagined for said scene is this one. Take it or leave it, I trust you. Summary: Pope had come back in such an odd mood - but then he always got a little like that when anyone tried to answer for you or tell you what to do. He didn’t take well to anyone else thinking or acting like they were your boss. 

He wasn’t usually here when you did this, is the thing. Typically, Pope sent you footage and went back to his place to crash while you combed through whatever it was, dug up anything valuable, if there was anything valuable. By the time all of that was done, Pope was usually conscious again, breezed into the office with coffee from the good place around the corner, and the two talked over the footage. But he was there this time, pacing behind your chair, leaning over you every few seconds, breath ruffling your hair. The first few times, it was kinda cute. You’d missed him, the scent of his cologne, his grumbling. But after the tenth time, you hadn’t been able to discern any pattern. It was like trying to predict a jump-scare in a horror film, and it was starting to wear on you. So before he could even lean over you again, you raised a hand to stop him. “Santi, seriously, you’re making me jumpy.”

“Sorry, sorry,” He mumbled. You felt him rest his hands on the back of your chair, steadying himself. Okay. Better. At least he wasn’t thudding behind you... And then his nail was tapping at the side of your chair, and you groaned, tipping your head back. It rested against his chest as you peered up at him. “Go home, get some rest,” You urged, “This is gonna take a while, okay?” Santiago’s mouth twisted in displeasure before he ducked down, dropping a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Be back later,” He mumbled, stepping away from your chair so fast that your head fell back the rest of the way. You blinked up at the ceiling a few times as you heard him call back, “Text me if something comes up!” And then the door closed. You lifted your head, glancing over at the door. You didn’t know why you were looking at it - he wasn’t going to come back, right? After waiting for a few beats, you shook your head. No, definitely not coming right back. You raised your finger to the tip of your nose, poking it. Where the hell had that come from? No matter where, you sure as hell weren’t telling Frankie. -- When the door opened again, you found yourself perking up. And then you found yourself leaning back when you saw Alex stroll in. “Well don’t everyone rush me at once,” He teased. You rolled your eyes, turning back to your screen. “Whaddaya want, ‘Brano?” “Diego says your boss has some intel,” He said, rounding to lean against your desk, “I’m trying to get in on that action.” “Yeah, well, get in line, because this thing is buffering like a motherfucker.” “Maybe it’s because you’re staring at it. A watched file...Always buffers.” “That sounded better in your head, didn’t it.” “Way better,” Alex conceded, turning and leaning over your shoulder like Pope had a few hours before. Unlike Pope, however, he was able to hold still for more than a few seconds. He even managed to keep quiet for a few minutes before he turned his head, murmuring in your ear, “What are you doing for dinner?” “Something else.” “Something else than what?” “Than whatever you were about to suggest,” You retorted, glancing back at him and finding his face very, very close to yours. He smiled. “Well, it just so happens that I was going to suggest that you stay here and eat alone, so it’s nice to hear that you’re planning on switching it up.” You laughed, unable to help it. “You were going to suggest that I eat alone?” You repeated. Alex didn’t answer; instead, he just let his gaze drift down. “... ‘Brano,” You warned quietly. “Mm?” “What are you doing?” Before he could answer, your attention was drawn by the sound of the door closing. Pope was lingering in the doorway, frowning. “Hey,” You greeted, turning back to the screen. “...Anything?” Pope asked, coming deeper into office. “Not a thing,” Alex answered. “Not sure I was asking you, Zambrano.” Your brows shot up at the tightness in Pope’s tone. Where the hell had that come from? You gave him a look, and he just arched a brow and asked, “Well?” “Just what Alex said. Not a thing.” “You know what?” Alex cleared his throat, “This one,” He lightly pushed at the back of your head, “Has probably been here all day-- That program gonna run without you?” “Yeah, but--” You started. Alex shook his head. “Let’s go get something to eat. All of us,” He added, smiling at Pope, “Come on, I’ve barely been out since I got down here. And if we play our cards right, Garcia, we might find another hitman for you to punch.” -- The meal had started off as the most awkward, stilted experience, but by its end, ‘Brano and Pope had fallen into a more steady rapport. You just leaned back and let it happen. It was preferable to whatever bickering had been going on back at the office. Pope had come back in such an odd mood - but then he always got a little like that when anyone tried to answer for you or tell you what to do. He didn’t take well to anyone else thinking or acting like they were your boss. “Tequila shot, Q?” Alex asked as he flagged the waiter down. “Nu-uh, she hates tequila,” Santiago shook the idea off. Alex turned back to you, surprised. “Really? You had tequila shots when we were back home.” You felt Santi’s eyes on you and you waved off the fact. “I took it ‘cause they were given to us for free. If you’re gonna order me anything, get me a vodka shot-- but also don’t, because one of us is going back to the office after this and it’s clearly not gonna be either one of you.” “Jesus,” Alex muttered as Santiago snorted a laugh. “So what do you think, would Reina have been as good in Fugitive Recovery as she is down here?” Pope asked, eyes fixed on you. “Well what you two are doing down here is kinda like fugitive recovery,” Alex pointed out, “Little more involved, though, my job is very tracking based, what you all do-- this one comparing lab reports and all.” He reached up, yanking a piece of your hair as he said ‘this one’, and your hand came up, smacking him in the shoulder on instinct. He chuckled. “She would’ve been fine,” He added, turning back to Pope. “I would’ve been fine?” You repeated, turning back to Alex, “Jeez, what a ringing endorsement-- Dear diary!” “I’m never paying you a compliment again--” “My ears are burning.” You and Alex stared each other down for a few seconds before Alex turned away to reach for his beer. You felt the weight of Santiago’s gaze on you and you turned to meet his eye to find that he had turned away. You frowned a little. You must’ve been mistaken. “I should be getting back,” You sighed, rolling your neck, “The footage has gotta be done by now.” “Come on, you promised me a dance,” Alex whined, nudging your arm with his. You glanced back at the small, semi-crowded dance floor in the restaurant. “I was kidding,” You shrugged. “Reina doesn’t dance,” Pope mumbled. “She has before.” “You’re a shithead, ‘Brano,” You said, pulling out your wallet. “I’ve got it,” Pope said, shaking his head. “Come on,” You groaned. “Nope. Besides, I pay you, so that’s technically my money anyway, put your wallet away.” “You know I hate that argument.” “Which is why I only use it when I absolutely have to. Put your wallet away, Reina.” “One dance,” Alex pressed. “‘Brano--” “We’ll flip a coin.” You looked at him for a long moment before sighing, “Fine.” Alex fished into his pocket, pulling out a coin. “Heads or tails?” “Heads.” He flipped; you watched the light glint off of the coin before he caught it and flipped it over onto the back of his other hand. He lifted his palm from it, then grinned. Tails. Motherfucker. “Come on-- Come on, deal’s a deal,” He added, standing. You rolled your eyes, taking Alex’s hand as it was offering you and mouthing, ‘Be right back,’ to Pope before Alex pulled you onto the dance floor. Alex wasn’t expecting any fancy footwork, which was smart - you didn’t do this often. The song that was playing was a slower tempo, too, and didn’t require anything more than for you to sway in Alex’s arms as he guided you among the other couples. “Why are you like this?” You asked as the two of you moved. He arched a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “We were having a good time, the three of us.” “We’re still having a good time.” “Alex.” “I wanted to kiss you, you know? If he hadn’t come in. I was thinking about it. I’m still thinking about it.” This maybe shouldn’t have been the shock it was; you’d seen the way Alex had been looking at your mouth, you knew how straightforward he could be. “I could kinda tell,” You said after a few moments. “What would happen if I did it now?” “I’d taste like vodka and cholula.” “Sexy.” “Jesus, ‘Brano,” You laughed, shaking your head and looking down at your feet. You felt him turn his head, nuzzling into your hair as he murmured,  “...Tell me what you want.” You considered. It had been a while. You knew Alex. You were comfortable with Alex, you liked him; you just weren’t sure you liked him the same way he liked you. So you lifted your head, met his eye, and said, “I want to go back to work.” He didn’t frown or push you away; he didn’t stomp off. Alex just nodded. “Can we at least wait for the song to finish?” You nodded before resting your head on his shoulder. You swayed on in silence. “I’m sorry,” You said as it ended. “Don’t be, Q,” He gave you a light squeeze before steering back to the table. The check had been paid, and Pope was gone. Tag list: @justanotherblonde23​ ; @revolution-starter​ ; @emurlemur​​ ; @badbitxhbuckybarnes​

#Don't Treat My Love Like a Habit #Santiago Garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #Santiago Garcia x Reader #Santiago Garcia/Reader #Santiago Garcia x You #Santiago Garcia/You #Santiago Pope Garcia x You #Santiago Pope Garcia Imagine #Santiago Pope Garcia/Reader

[thecandywrites]

Blood For Gold Chapter 20

Ah, now the truth shall be revealed! Time to show our cards and see where they will lay. So I actually wrote this chapter and the chapter to follow BEFORE I wrote the Kamoba battle chapter because I was overwhelmed trying to pack all of that information and detail into a chapter that read that way and not like the notes of a deranged lunatic from the inside of a padded cell. And writing this chapter and the one to follow flowed so nicely and it helped me keep the focus on the characters and their story lines and their arcs within a battle sequence and not get lost in the battle itself. Which was a struggle for me. Not going to lie. 

@punkhorse96​ and everyone else- enjoy.  

Blood For Gold 

Chapter 20

The moment all of you came down to breakfast and just before Gregori could announce the news of the case being dismissed from court, a messenger from Buckingham Palace arrived with a proclamation as all of you stood respectfully to receive it. 

“It is ordered by her Majesty Queen Dowager Anastasia Raymond, that all occupants of the Palace of Windsor are hereby requested to go to Buckingham Palace for an audience with the Queen Dowager, His Royal Highness, His Majesty the King, as well as Her Royal Highness Queen Alexandria as soon as possible.” He read aloud before you all immediately disbursed and practically ran back to your rooms to dress in your best attire that you had before you came back down. 

“Countess Audravienne Morrigan, you are requested to ride in the head carriage alone.” The messenger informed you as you looked anxiously at your family and Demsey who looked particularly anxious to have you leave his sight as you were only allowed to give him one last squeeze of his hand before the attendant escorted you away and into the royal coach of a carriage as you sat there, alone before you finally found you had the opportunity to read that damn journal as you opened it up and immediately started crying when you saw it was from Demsey two days prior. 

You barely noticed everyone else get loaded up into the various carriages behind you as once everyone was loaded up, the whole caravan travelled towards the palace as your heart reached out to Demsey as you resolved in yourself that no matter what would happen at Buckingham Palace, if you did not make Demsey yours by the end of the day, you felt like you would die. Finally, after all this time and pain and hurt, you found what you were looking for, a gentle man who would love you without reserve, be faithful and loyal to you without question or waiver. Who didn’t care if you were penniless, poor and destitute or had nobility or not. All he wanted was you and you would be giving everything you had to him, no matter how much or how little that was as you read through it before pressing it to your chest and wiping happy, grateful tears from your eyes as the knowledge of his love gave you so much peace and comfort and was exactly what you needed as you regained your composure as you only had time to write a single line in it- in answer to the pages upon pages of declaration of love. 

‘I love you too.’ 

Once at the palace you were taken out of the carriage and escorted into the audience room where the Queen Dowager and the King and Queen were seated on their thrones as the Queen Dowager’s Mage was seated nearby and on the other side of her was seated a second mage, a male one this time, as you handed the journal off and requested that it be put into Duke Demsey Voyambi’s hands and no one else’s before you entered the room and approached them. 

“Your Majesties,” you greeted respectfully as you bowed low. 

“It is a pleasure to see you again so soon, again, congratulations on your victory in the Kamoba battle yesterday Countess Morrigan or do you prefer the title of Sultana Saharazat?” The Queen Dowager greeted you formally. 

“Whichever you prefer to use your Majesty.” You answered. 

“Sultana Saharazat it is. Now, it has come to my attention that your correspondence has gone missing within the Royal Mail Service?” Dowager Queen Anastasia asked from her spot on the thrown that flanked her son’s, mirroring her daughter in law’s throne on the other side of the King. 

“Yes.” You confirmed. 

“If you will come forward and approach this table, I think you will find it has all been found and is hereby given back to you.” She offered as you obeyed and came forward as you noticed stacks of mail, organized by who sent what. So many letters from your parents, from your family, from your friends, especially Leumeni, he seemed to have written the most to you before you noticed your own letters that were meant to reach them, and none of them had been opened and they all looked as if they had been written only yesterday before you noticed more than just your mail was on the table, but letters from members of your own household to the Morrigans and Richard’s mistress, Myra as you noticed even more letters from Dr. Rickets to Gregori which was the most surprising to see along with letters from Richard to various members and masters at the Royal Mail Service there as well. 

“Unfortunately, all those letters that you see on the table, they are all duplicates of the originals, since the originals were all destroyed by fire. These are just humble recreations of what was lost. We have proof and solid evidence as you can see from the letters on the table, that there are some directed from Count Richard Morrigan to the members of the Royal Mail Service. That is the proof that it was his direction that all of your mail coming in or out to you personally was to be destroyed the moment it touched the hands of the mail sorters and messengers.” She explained as you picked up the letters in question and read them yourself. 

“Mage Bellfast, who is seated over there,” She continued as she gestured over to him as you looked over and nodded respectfully at him as he did the same to you. 

“He was ordered by my son Gregori, to recreate all of them and I asked him to come to me and deliver it all to me as evidence and proof. Your own personal correspondence to and from you personally was never opened but all other correspondence was to gather evidence. And the proof of such sabotage is as you can see, very sizable. I wanted to tell you personally that because this involved my family and the Royal Mail Service and because it exposed it’s corruption, I am the one who dismissed your case in the public and even the private court systems and I hope you can, one day, forgive me. But I insist on giving you justice myself and dealing with this matter personally because a grave sin has been made against you and I insist on doing everything in my power to set it right. And I will serve as judge and jury, for surely you know that even I, was once a moura bride just like you. And such a slight will never be tolerated again and such a case of corruption can never be allowed to happen again. And may I also offer my deepest and most sincere apologies to you for such grievances and I hope that you will allow me to make amends.” She offered as tears flooded your vision, while a mixture of emotions seemed to wage war within you, part of you was relieved, at least for Jane’s sake, another part of you wanted to expose Richard and Agnes Morrigan for the monsters that they were for all of England to see. But you were not going to refuse this help by any means. 

“Of course, thank you, your Majesty.” You thanked her as you did your best to wipe the grateful tears from your eyes as you saw that Demsey had even tried to write you a letter a few days before the ball, to warn you about who might be there and who would mean you harm. 

“Now, Mage Bellfast as well as my own Mage, Mage Altissia have found your scene catcher spell and if you will forgive them, but they found your passwords, but let me assure you that I, nor any of the royal family have seen what was behind those passwords, only that they were there and only with your explicit permission will such footage be shown or it can be destroyed upon your decree, but, for now, if you would hold off from making such a decision before this entire case is heard out, I have all parties coming to assemble to so that everything can be sorted out with everyone and once the air is clear and all the sins against you have been exposed, then justice will be dealt out accordingly. Now, as far as I can tell, this involves Gregori, Yalin and their family and the entire Morrigan family as well, along with Dr. Rickets and the post men who Richard has contacted. I also have Dr. Chu and his wife, who is practically a doctor herself here along with five other physicians to serve as their own jurors along with stable masters from Dorierra to change your classification. And with your permission, I would like to call them some of them in now.” Anastasia offered. 

“Yes of course,” you agreed. 

“Call in, the physician-, Dr. Rickets and the post men, the entire Morrigan family as well as my son Gregori and his family along with Sultana Saharazat’s family in, at this time.” Queen Dowager Anastasia commanded before they came in, all at once from different doors around the room since they all had been waiting in different rooms attached to the main audience room so as not to cause a stir outside of it.

“You bitch!” Agnes screamed as the moment the side door was open and she saw you, she ran towards you before guards came and stood between her and you. 

“Countess Morrigan! You will conduct yourself with the dignity of your station or I will strip you of it, have you whipped and then drawn and quartered in the town square!” Anastasia boomed as she stood from her throne as she glared down hatefully at Agnes. 

“Sultana Saharazat is under my protection and any threat against her is a threat against the crown and comes with a death sentence and you and your family will be branded as traitors to the crown and everything you have will be awarded to her in retaliation, do I make myself clear?!” Anastasia snarled as Agnes realized the royal family was there immediately slinked back. 

“I apologize, your Majesty, I did not think you would be in here but this woman is a...” Agnes did her best to try to excuse.  

“You didn’t think that I would be in my own palace? Much less in my own audience room? Are you mad or a simpleton?” Anastasia demanded. 

“Neither, just...careless your Majesty.” Agnes tried to defer but her face was as red as beet as Richard looked angry and ashamed as his mistress, Myra stood a decent distance behind them and looked particularly annoyed as well. 

“Now guards, keep a line between the whole Morrigan family, the Sultana’s family and the Raymonds, just for good measure.” Anastasia commanded before more guards were called in as your family joined you as you reassured them that you were ok and that the Dowager Queen, was going to be acting as judge and jury in your case as your family was relieved. 

“Many many thanks to you- your Majesty for dealing with this matter personally.” Your mother and Grandmother offered as they knelt down respectfully as was their custom. 

“Do not thank me yet, we are just getting started, please, get up, also someone get everyone chairs so that they may be seated comfortably.” Anastasia commanded as she had you sit down at the table where all your letters were. 

“Now, let’s start at the beginning shall we? Ramsey, what exactly did you say to your father at Sultana Saharazat’s wedding to Count Edward Morrigan?” Anastasia demanded as Ramsey’s eyes got as wide as saucers as everyone except for Axal seemed to be surprised at the news that all of this would start with him and not the Morrigans. 

“I uh...well, you see at the time…” Ramsey fumbled over his words as he stood on his feet and fidgeted with his cuff links as Anastasia looked irritated as did the rest of his family especially his parents. 

“Ramsey, for the sake of time, please just tell this audience chamber- you said to your parents that day?” Anastasia tried to gently coach him. 

“That Sultana Saharazat was the perfect bride and that no one could match her.” Ramsey finally admitted. 

“But I don’t see…” Ramsey began before his grandmother raised her hand to silence him. 

“Now, Gregori, Ramsey is nearly forty, you have been on him to wed for the last two decades and in the last eight to ten years you have become harder and harder on him to find a bride, to get married and give your family line the legitimate heir it so desperately needs but you were stopped since Ramsey up until that point, has been a roguish rake clinging onto boyish foolishness as if it was his lifeline instead of realizing that it was his downfall and was going to be leading to his ruination, I believe the current lengths you had gone to up until that point was that if Ramsey had not found a bride that season you were going to cut him off financially completely and send him into the army to get the rakish ways beaten out of him one way or another.” Anastasia said with a hard look to her grandson who seemed to wilt under her intense gaze. 

“But since then, I have found a bride, and I am leaving behind my rakish past and she is the one true bride for me.” Ramsey offered. 

“And was it Sultana Saharazat?” Anastasia demanded. 

“Well...no,” Ramsey winced. 

“Right, so what I want to know was why you chose Sultana Saharazat on her wedding day to another as your bride?” Anastasia demanded. 

“I chose her out of panic, because since she was getting married that day, she was no longer available and it would give me more time and I figured that when Edward would eventually die, I would have had enough time to grow up by then.” Ramsey confessed shamefully. 

“So you deliberately chose a bride who was unavailable to put yourself and your parents at an impasse, thinking that they would stop hounding you and threatening you with the army if you chose one who conveniently was already married, by mere minutes.” Anastasia concluded. 

“Yes.” Ramsey confirmed as his cheeks were also beet red as he looked at you apologetically as everyone in your family as well as his own actually groaned, along with the Queen Dowager, the King and the Queen herself as the King looked ready to strangle his nephew with his own hands. 

“So you had no real feeling or attachment to Sultana Audravienne Saharazat, she was just a moura bride in a white dress at the end of the season and it was either chose an impossible option or lose everything?” Anastasia pressed further. 

“Yes.” Ramsey nodded guiltily. 

“And do you realize because you panicked and did that, that you are the reason Sultana Saharazat’s life was destroyed?!” Anastasia seethed as Ramsey’s eyes flooded with tears as he looked particularly mortified. 

“Please! No! I had no idea!” Ramsey wailed as he shook his head no. 

“How could Ramsey have known that the Morrigans would try to poison her with mourkatili! No one could have predicted that they would be so cruel and abuse her, thinking that because Edward Senior would have her that no one else could?!” Yalin insisted, coming to her son’s defense. 

“No, nor could you foresee that your own husband, my own son, which after today, that may be up for debate and put into question, but that is a battle for another time. In an effort to give your son the impossible would go so far as to poison his own countrymen to death.” Anastasia revealed in a snarling growl as everyone gasped as all eyes turned towards Gregori who was unusually silent as he kept his gaze on his mother defiantly. 

“Dr. Rickets, I believe it is your turn to tell the truth, the whole truth or you will be sent to the tower, drawn and quartered, your house burned after it is turned into a public toilet and your family turned out into the street.” Anastasia leveled at him as Dr. Rickets gulped. 

“The day after Edward came home from his honeymoon, he had gone to town on business and had run into Dauphin Gregori Raymond and when the Dauphin questioned Edward Senior about his new wife and he had confirmed that she was the perfect bride, he sent for me. He told me of the encounter and gave me a sum of a thousand pounds if I would poison Edward Sr. with Wolf’s Eye to be mixed in with his regular medicine, Wolf’s Eye is known for causing delirium before it causes a stroke and with his old age, going senile and dying of heart failure would not raise suspicion.” Dr. Rickets answered. 

“You took a bribe to kill my father?! To poison him?!” Richard roared as he stood up and pointed his finger at Dr. Rickets and had Richard been armed, you were sure Dr. Rickets would be run through from the rage in his voice alone.  

“Yes,” Dr. Rickets confirmed as he could not raise his eyes to Richard out of shame. 

“And when you discovered that he had been poisoned, I lied to you to protect myself and my family and put the blame on someone who would know poisons,” Dr. Rickets confessed. 

“Which in that household only left me to be suspect.” You volunteered. 

“So you asked for mourkatili but at the time the Dauphin was in Dorierra, trying to find Ramsey another wife, and the letter couldn’t reach him in time for me to find an answer and you said that if I did not supply you with mourkatili, that you would find another source so I obtained some, but I added Jade’s Crown to it, to help neutralize it’s lethality until the Dauphin could be reached.” Dr. Rickets tried to excuse as the whole royal family practically groaned and rolled their eyes in annoyance. 

“Except that Jade’s Crown when mixed with mourkatili while it does lesson it’s lethality when first ingested, it does not neutralize it, instead it makes it lethally addictive so that the moura who drinks it is instantly addicted and will drink themselves to death trying to drink more and more of it which in turn can lead to madness in a moura with 77% of the cases studied to date it leads to the moura being completely deranged beyond repair, if you really wanted to neutralize it, you would have added Dragon Heart Flower which turns mourkatili from sweet to putrid, salty and bitter so that even the smell of it makes everyone want to vomit, if you were so intent on offering up Sultana Saharazat to the Raymonds, why didn’t you do that or go to the police at the very least to report that Sultana Saharazat was about to be poisoned?” Mage Altissia snapped angrily at Dr. Rickets. 

“Because I was afraid, that if Dauphin Ramsey had found his bride once he visited the stables, that I would be found out, and I couldn’t risk the Morrigans knowing I tampered with the mourkatili, they knew what it smelled like and what it was supposed to look like, I could not use Dragon Heart Flower, because they would know that I knew too much about poisons instead of medicine and they would be suspicious of me and I would lose my medical license and my living as a doctor.” Dr. Rickets blubbered as he did his best not to cry and failed miserably. 

“Do you think after this moment anyone is going to trust you with their health? If I went to the papers and even hinted to the editor to tell the gossip columns about this, you would be run out of England and all of Europa based on rumor alone.” Yalin seethed. 

“And it’s not like Count and Countess Morrigan didn’t know that Audra was innocent. Jane informed me that when it was Audra who discovered that his medicine had been tampered with and tried to talk to you all about it, that she was dismissed and then accused of the very thing she was trying to bring to light and you repaid her by poisoning her in turn and how Jane, through her own snooping found the Wolf’s Eye and the Jade’s Crown in his own medical bag but yet you still did not believe her.” Charlotte offered with a pointed look to Agnes and Richard as Jane stayed by Rian’s side with your family because she didn’t want to be with the rest of her family for fear they would hurt her. 

“And the fact that your daughter even now, shrinks back from you proves your own guilt of abuse.” Anastasia pointed out as she noticed Jane’s reaction to all of this. 

“And the fact that you then accused her of being brainwashed by Audra and then disciplined her for just using her own mind and powers of deduction because Jane had investigated Audra herself and found that Audra brought no such things with her, says a lot more too.” Charlotte smirked smugly at the Morrigans as well as her grandmother. 

“So, what happened after that Dr. Rickets?” Anastasia asked. 

“The Dauphin sent a transmission via messengerari, and when I found out that Ramsey did not find another bride, I told him about what the Morrigans had done and what I had done to try to diminish it and then he told me to up the dose to Count Edward Senior and that he wanted to see Edward Morrigan’s obituary in the paper when he got back so that Ramsey would only have to wait another year before he could marry Countess Audravienne Morrigan. But I did not expect Edward’s body to be so strong. And I did not think he would hold on so long, nor abuse Countess Audravienne Morrigan to the extent that he did and I did not think that the Morrigans would be so determined to bury her with Edward.” Dr. Rickets confessed. 

“So, your own doctor was bribed to poison your father and yet you blame the innocents in the situation and break the contract by trying to murder the very one who knew something was amiss. Why didn’t you go to the police? Why didn’t you have her arrested and investigated, why go through all the trouble of poisoning her and trying to kill her?” Anastasia asked RIchard and Agnes. 

“We didn’t want to ruin our good name and reputation. Mouras are known to die of broken hearts, we thought it would be less suspicious if she died with him and we could pass the blame onto that.” Richard confessed. 

“And bury your own guilt with her, brilliant.” Anastasia sarcastically praised as she glared down at them. 

“But that wasn’t all your Majesty, the Morrigans have more sins that should be known.” Charlotte insisted. 

“Well, no one in this court room can trust either of you to ever tell us the truth, I would like ask the only trustworthy Morrigan left. Jane. Before you speak, know that when and if you decide to do so. You have my word to be protected from those monsters over there that you are unfortunately related to. And if you are worried about your own name and reputation being called into question, know that I personally will guarantee your safety and integrity of your own reputation and if I have to invite you to stay at Buckingham Palace as my honored guest and ward, then I’m ready and willing to make that offer.” Queen Alexandria finally spoke up. 

“And I second that.” Anastasia insisted. 

“The first time my parents had the mourkatili served to Audra, it was in a tea, disguised as hibiscus tea with sugar and honey to hide the mourkatili. Audra took one sip and immediately knew she had been poisoned and called out for help but they bound her and gagged her and forced it down her throat. She spent the better part of a week being drunk off of it and then almost another week being hungover and refused any drink other than water and nothing even remotely purple in her food. The second time my parents tried to poison her, they had my oldest half brother Dale, who is my father’s mistress, Miss Myra’s son she has born to my father out of wedlock, who was only 20, come and serve it to her and my mother insisted to prove that it was not poisonous, insisted that he taste test it first and Audra could tell from the smell that it was mourkatili and tried to stop him but he obeyed my mother and the moment it touched his lips, he fell down dead. My mother tried to pin the blame for his death on Audra, saying it was her insistance that all of her food and drink be tested first to Myra who came to Audra and demanded to know what Dale had ever done to her for her to poison him. And when Audra tried to tell her the truth, she didn’t believe her. Then my father returned home from business and when he heard about it and saw Dale’s dead body being carted off, he had Audra bound and gagged and then he whipped her himself, even though I was just in the other room and saw and heard it all, And I had a messengerari in the room and captured the moment and it wasn’t until I made Myra and my father both watch it when they learned the truth. Myra apologized to Audra, by my father never did. Instead he then did the same abuse he did to Audra, he did to my mother only twice as worse. My mother couldn’t leave her room for two months after and could barely walk without the help of a cane because he had beaten her so badly, he nearly killed her.” Jane confessed as Ramsey was actually sobbing, feeling so much guilt and remorse as Axal wanted nothing more than to comfort him but the line of guards kept him from doing so as you watched as your own family stopped looking at Jane like the enemy, instead, looked at her with kindness and sympathy instead. 

“So then, a month later, my mother tried to have my youngest half brother- George, who was only six, to come and serve Audra that mourkatili tea and tried to do it again only that time Audra, in an effort to protect little George, drank all of it down as quickly as she could so that he would not be harmed at all.” Jane revealed with a broken sob. 

“Jane, show them.” You pleaded with her before she nodded and together you went up to the large mirror on the wall that was itself, a grand messengerari  and put in your code to bring in the feed from your scene catchers for it to play out on the it before you put in your first password into the messengerari and then Jane put in the second as everyone watched as it all played out as you and Jane held each other and cried as you watched it all as you noticed that someone had gone through this and strung all the “best parts”, or “worst parts” depending on your point of view-  together so that it really showcased just how horrible and vicious the Morrigan’s- besides Jane- were. 

“This is an outrage! To have our privacy invaded as such!” Agnes screeched. 

“Guards, will you bind and gag that wretch to her chair and handcuff that beast next to her...” The King, Leopold snarled angrily before they came and bound and gagged Agnes so that she was tied to the chair and couldn’t move as the rest of it played out as Richard looked fully ashamed and like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole and didn’t fight when irons were put on his, neck, wrists and ankles so that he was bound just like all the postmen who had also been brought in were. 

“But your majesties, there is something missing from the record, where is the moment of Edward’s death?” Dr. Ricket’s volunteered. 

“He had either a stroke or heart attack by your diagnosis and that happened while he was in the act of raping Audra, I helped her strike it from the record to at least preserve what little bit of dignity she had left.” Jane defended evenly. 

“And that will be allowed and of course accepted.” Anastasia insisted. 

“Absolutely.” King Leopold agreed. 

“Indeed.” Queen Anastasia readily agreed as well. 

“So, since it is clear that Sultana Saharazat is the innocent party and since she has paid for every bit of gold and wealth she has with her own blood, it is unthinkable that she should have to pay any more for anything else. However, in order to protect the Crown, the Dauphin’s involvement in this case can not be made public, so, Sultana Saharazat, what can Gregori, Yalin and Ramsey offer you in recompense for their involvement? Besides their deepest apologies and regrets?” King Leopold asked you. 

“There are a few things I want from them. The first, I want Charlotte to be free to marry whoever she deems worthy, whether he be of high status or low. It is clear her parents enjoy a loving and wonderful marriage and I want her to enjoy the same with someone who she wants. The second is I want Ramsey to be free to marry Octavia Lafronze and I want her own fee to the stables for her and her companion, Katardrina to be paid as well. I want my brother Axal to marry Katardrina but stay close to Ramsey and Octavia since the four of them are very close and I do not wish to pull them apart. It is clear to me that Ramsey did not intend for any of this to happen and he made a mistake and neither he nor anyone else could foresee how desperate his father was to see him married. And the fact that he has shed so many tears of guilt and remourse, I know he does not take this lightly and I believe he has learned his lesson and will never make this mistake ever again. Gregori and Yalin have been nothing but kind and compassionate and generous with me while I have stayed with them. But now I feel that they only did so out of guilt, at least on Gregori’s part, because they knew they provided the figurative spark that ignited the forest fire that happened at Broadcove. Third, my griffin Heavencrest has mated and paired with their own griffin Charlico. I would like him to be mine so that Heavencrest and Charlico may stay together and fourth, at the ball at Havenfield, Ramsey, in friendship offered that I and the other mouras who came from Dorierra would be elevated to Dowager status, and I want those promises and guarantees to be fulfilled, So I want everyone who has come from Dorierra up until this point in my case, either male or female, to be given Dowager status and any who wish to stay in English society, I would like for them to receive titles of Nobility, they do not have to be high, but I would like them to be high enough that they all can move about in high society with ease, if they wish to.” You answered. 

“Audra, please know that at least my children and I had no idea of Gregori’s involvement and I want you to know that all kindness and consideration from them and myself, was always genuine, of course you can have Charlico, I will give you his papers the moment we get home, please is there anything else we can do?” Yalin offered and you could tell she was being genuine. 

“I will let you know when I think of something else.” You offered. 

“Thank you.” Yalin thanked you graciously. 

“Now for the Morrigans, let’s revisit your case, because it does not stop here. You actually bribed four members of the Royal Postal Service to destroy every piece of mail Sultana Saharazat sent out and every piece she would receive and you hired a mage to cast a spell on your own lightning rods so that it would disrupt the signal from every messengerari not only on at Broadcove and Mirador but it was so strong that it made all your neighbor’s messengerari’s cut in and out for the last two years. The fact that you put into question the integrity of the Royal Mail Service was the reason I dismissed your case from court. But as you can see Mage Bellfast was more than happy to duplicate every piece of mail that you ordered to be burned and Mage Altissia provided the rest. But if that wasn’t enough, you had your mistress, send her own children, your own bastards as servants in the Sultana’s household to work for you as spies as you continued to pay them their wages that you had been paying them at your home while they collected wages from Sultana Saharazat as well. Your wife is one to talk about an invasion of privacy, when you yourself have been invading hers all along.” Anastasia insisted as you began opening the letters and read them for yourself, only to find about three months into your widowhood, how all of them told their father in their own way how they would spy on you no more, because you had treated them with kindness, respect and dignity and how he could keep his money, they didn’t need it or want it. But instead, that your own wages to them were plenty generous enough for them to have comforts enough to suit “the likes of them”. 

“Except she turned my own children against me, they haven’t reported to me in over half a year! Practically nine months! And they keep sending back any money I try to send them, which is hurtful and deceitful in itself.  She has deceived you all and she has clearly conspired with the Raymonds!” Richard tried to accuse.

“Did your nanny drop you on your head? Are you mad to make such an accusation?” King Leopold asked Richard who shut his mouth to keep from saying anything else. 

“Nevermind answering that, I have come to my decision. Because of your shameless exploits and treachery. You will be stripped of your nobility. Since you both are guilty of murder as in the case of that wretch who goes by Agnes or attempted murder in both of your cases. Everything you have, all wealth, all connections, all property, business enterprises, investments, land ownership, everything, will be handed over to Sultana Audravienne Saharazat to do with as she pleases and she can turn your precious Broadcove into a public latrine for all I care. Both of you will be sent to the asylum for clear insanity, where both of you will not only be treated with Wolf’s Eye but Wolf’s Mane as well and both of you will rot in a prison cell going insane and because Jane has been with the Raymond’s she was not exposed to the sickness that caused both of you to go mad in attempts to bribe Dr. Rickets into giving you mourkatili to poison and kill the Sultana Audravienne Saharazat.” King Leopold decreed. 

“Except for little Edward. He is only a boy, and is completely innocent in all of this too.” You offered. 

“Very well, since Sultana Saharazat has spoken for him, he will be brought to be with Jane. 

“Actually, your majesty, if I have a suggestion, if you like it, you can use it, if not, let things happen how you have directed them to.” You intervened again. 

“Very well, what are your thoughts on this matter?” He asked. 

“I have read these letters that all of Richard’s eldest children have written to him, rejecting him because if their father loved them so much, why would he put up with Agnes mistreating them so cruelly so that with just a little bit of kindness, respect and dignity from me- they happily switched their loyalties to me. Richard’s mistress, Miss Myra Bellafont, I wish for Broadcove may go to her. For she too has spent most of her life having to put up with Agnes, and was powerless to protect her own children from her partner’s wife, to the point that her own eldest son lost his life because of Agnes’ hate towards them. They were blameless in that they did not ask to have the father they do and they did not ask to be brought into the world or had any control over their circumstances and as much as Richard and Agnes made my life a living hell, I can’t imagine what they have made her go through. If at all possible, if she could be given a title, it doesn’t have to be a high one, but I wish for her and her children to inherit Broadcove and even though Agnes has treated Myra and her children with animosity, I know Myra doesn’t hold any towards Jane or little Edward and even Edward Senior was kind and partial to them while he lived. Even now the children of hers that remain at Broadcove are little Edward’s playmates and if Myra can swear and promise me as well as their Majesties that she will care for Edward and Jane well, I trust she will care for little Edward as well as she does her own little Geroge and I do not wish for Jane or little Edward to partake in their parent’s disgrace and I want the same freedoms that I have requested for Charlotte to be Jane’s as well, so that she can accept any offer of marraige from anyone she deems worthy as well, who will love her and treat her with kindness, respect, reverence and dignity, all of which she is just as deserving as I am.” You offered hopefully. 

“Very well, Myra Bellafont, you are now awarded the title of Marquise, you have come from somewhere foreign, you are a wealthy widow and have bought up Broadcove once you learned that Count and Countess Morrigan had gone on holiday and contracted a disease that made them go mad and your own sympathy towards their innocent children have moved you to take them on as your wards and you are now their loving and caring guardian. The house is to be cleaned thoroughly and Sultana Saharazat will award you any businesses that the Morrigans have so that you may upkeep Broadcove and that income may provide for your needs and the needs of your children.” King Leopold proclaimed. 

“Yes your majesty.” Yourself and Myra happily accepted as she curtsied deeply as Anges wriggled and screamed around her gag in her spot.

“Take Mr. and Mrs. Morrigan and Dr. Rickets to the asylum at once and turn these four traitorous men over to the tower.” Dr. Leopold insisted as he gestured to them since they had come in already in chains. 

“But it was Audra who dealt Edward his death blow!” Dr. Rickets hollered as the hair on the back of your neck rose as your anger blazed as you gripped the dagger at your waist so hard your knuckles turned white as you wanted to stab him. 

“You yourself proclaimed he had died of heart failure in your autopsy report before his body was buried.” King Leopold frowned as Jane and yourself looked at each other worriedly before your own desperation to never be afraid of this secret that you had given almost everything to keep hidden. But no more. If you were going to expose everything, you would not hold back.  

“Your Majesties, I do not wish to live any kind of lie. I do not wish for anyone to ever hold anything over me or blackmail me ever again. So, I will show you the moment of Count Edward’s death and you can judge for yourselves, whether I was guilty or not of his death, but I ask all of you watch and really see all of it, do not look away, do not close your eyes and do not turn a blind eye to it.” You insisted as you held Jane’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze as you gave her a reassuring smile as you both put in the third and final password that showed the truth as all of the Royal Family as well as yours watched in horror as Edward tried to rape you then once his flesh touched yours, he turned into a statue of platinum and fell to the bed and broke it, the crash echoing through the audience room as gasps were given by everyone except by Myra, Jane and yourself as it showed you in a panic, touching Edward and turning him to flesh again and then calling for Jane for help as you told her what had happened and how confused you were about it and wanted to know what to do as both of you called in Dr. Rickets to make a diagnosis and then to Myra and the servants to keep quiet about the crash as Myra herself brokered for you to take her own children with you when you would leave Broadcove as a widow and pleaded with you to be good to them. 

“Audra, I would like to apologize, had I known that that was the reason for the crash I heard, that  I never would have made that deal with you and I’m so sorry if my own children following you to Mirador caused you any distress, I never asked them to spy on you.” Myra offered as she wiped her tears from her eyes. 

“I know, but Richard did.” You answered. 

“So you did kill him!” Richard practically crooned, feeling vindicated and validated.

“Oh enough! Guard, gag him as well so that nothing else of a poisonous nature leaves his mouth, only enters it.” King Leopold ordered before Richard too was gagged with a handkerchief. 

“No, she is innocent of murder because she didn’t purposefully do so because if she did know she had had that ability prior to that instant, don’t you think you yourself would have turned to platinum the moment you landed your first slap? It was self defense, surely you know enough of moura history and heard the tales that any one who dare force a moura to bed, would be turned into a pillar of gold by morning?” Anastasia defended you evenly. 

“That was our protection for millenia. Audra did not intend for Edward Senior to die and had Edward Senior had his wits, he never would have done so to begin with. And now that you are officially branded as insane, you can scream such things at the top of your lungs and no one will believe you.” The Queen Consort- Alexandria replied to the Morrigans.  

“I judge you innocent in all things, do not let this moment define you and do not let this moment stop you from living your life to the fullest.” Alexandria urged you warmly and comfortingly. 

“I too judge you completely innocent. And hereby decree, that because you suffered at the hands of Richard Morrigan, Edward Morrigan Senior and by extension, Dauphin Gregori Raymond, all previous rulings will stand, and this doesn’t change anything except for one thing. I hereby promote you and all mouras who choose to stay in England- the noble rank and title of Marquess as well and award you personally, a living of twenty five thousand pounds a year from the crown for the rest of your life, whether you choose to remarry or not. And all others who wish to stay in the country, a living of ten thousand pounds a year.” He decreed. 

“Thank you, Your Majesties, might we invite all the other Mouras in to tell them the news directly?” You requested before King Leopold nodded and ordered for Calla and her brothers as well as Benny and her brothers to come in along with Octavia and Katardrian as the messengerari was cleared to just show a mirror’s reflection yet again. 

“So, the reason I have brought you all here today was to discuss Sultana Audravienne’s Saharazat’s case in the courts. Because of certain components of the case and sensitive nature of it, I myself put a stop to it going into the court system to keep reproach from coming to the crown. And with such concessions to protect the privacy of all involved, the Sultana has been reimbursed accordingly and hopefully to her satisfaction.” Dowager Queen Anastasia began. 

“Yes, it has been settled to my satisfaction, thank you Your Majesty.” You happily replied as you and Jane smiled happily and with relief to each other as you sat side by side and still held onto each other because now, you both were safe, and more importantly, free. 

“So part of the concessions and reimbursement that the Sultana asked for was that all of you from Dorierra, male and female alike, are now all considered Dowagers and are invited to stay in England as Maquess and a living will be awarded each of you for ten thousand pounds a year.” The King ordered as they all smiled brightly and happily. 

“Thank you, your Majesty.” They all happily and excitedly thanked him. 

“Now, call in the stable masters from Dorierra so that their masters may be updated to Dowager status.” King Leopold instructed before the stable masters came and took two at a time, starting with the adults just as Agnes and Richard were being led out along with Dr. Rickets as he too was gagged and bound. 

“Marquess Saharazat.” Mage Bellfast approached you as you sat down at the desk and continued to go through all the letters there. 

“Yes?” You asked. 

“Again, I am Mage Bellfast, I was hired by the Dauphin to recreate your mail that was burned.” He reintroduced himself. 

“Oh, yes, thank you so much. I can’t tell you how happy I am to have it all back.” You smiled happily as he offered his hand as you graciously gave it to him for him to kiss your knuckles in a very gentlemanly like manner. 

“But I was hoping to get just the smallest of tokens from you in thanks.” Belfast began. 

“Of course, what would you like?” You asked. 

“For you to turn this bar of moura gold into platinum for me.” Belfast said as he produced the bar and put it onto the table in front of you as Mage Altissia practically ran towards you. 

“Do not do that!” Mage Altissia demanded. 

“Why not?” Belfast asked. 

“Do you think she would give me moura platinum and not you? Surely you have something made from moura gold that she can turn for you.” Belfast replied calmly as you picked up the bar but nothing happened. 

“No, because she only got the power once the mourkatili was in her system and since the Dragon Grevu healed her, thus her indigo violet hair, she has lost such capabilities.” Altissia offered as you blew out a breath of relief as you squeezed the bar with all your might but nothing was happening. 

“Well that won’t do, will it.” Belfast before in a flash he hit you with a spell that knocked you backwards off your chair and your feet flying over your head and onto the floor which caused everyone to stop and stare and rush over to you. 

“What did you do to me?!” You yelled as everyone watched as the indigo violet drained from your hair back into your scalp just as you found your feet, drew your dagger and aimed it at Bellfast’s throat before he used magic to stop your fist.

“Temper, temper.” Belfast tsked and smiled wolfishly as the golden dagger turned platinum white in your grips as indigo violet blood dripped from your nose as your eyes changed color from gold- to a glowing indigo violet as well as once again the mourkatili entered your body as you felt weak and fell to the floor coughing and sputtering, your blood splattering and staining the wood you stood on as your blade clattering to the floor with you. 

“Mage Bellfast, what is the meaning of this?!” Queen Dowager Anastasia demanded as she and the Queen and the King came over to see for themselves. 

“Well you saw it for yourself, she is a platinum moura now and I wanted my payment for all that mail and correspondence I had to conjure up.” Belfast explained. 

“And since your Majesties have ordered for her and every other moura who came to England to have nobility and a very generous yearly income, wouldn’t it be fair for her to help mitigate that cost by turning any number of moura gold bricks you have in the place to platinum for you?” Belfast offered as King Leopold hesitated for a beat. 

“Guards, have ten moura gold bricks be brought in.” King Leopold ordered as Alexandria and Anastasia both gasped in outrage. 

“Leo that is uncalled for, hasn’t the poor girl suffered and given enough?!” Anastasia demanded. 

“You said yourself that she shouldn’t have to pay anything to anyone ever again, this is going back on your word!” Alexandria insisted as she stared in horror at her husband. 

“I’m just asking her to change ten small bricks of gold into platinum, then I’m sure Bellfast can cure her again and all will be well.” Leopold insisted. 

“Now, if you’ll please.” Belfast insisted as he handed you the small gold bar as you touched it and watched with regret as it turned from gold to platinum before you hatefully gave it back to him before you turned and walked over to where your grandmother’s dagger had clattered away as you picked it up but when you touched it again, it turned back to gold, before turning to black ash in your hands and disintegrated in your hands as all the jewels fell through your fingers and fell to the ground as everyone else screamed to see your hands now stained black just as Bellfast took the platinum bar in his gloved hands and made the fatal mistake of kissing it, the moment the bar touched his lips, his whole face began to be eaten away and turned into black ash which caused everyone to give Bellfast room as they watched helplessly as Bellfast completely disintergrated into a pile of black ash and clothes, the platinum bar now landing in a heap. 

“The plague! You have unleashed the golden plague again!” The Dowager Queen screamed in horror at Leopold as she struck at him. 

“Your Majesties, I can explain this phenomenon. Because Audravienne unlocked her platinum abilities once the mourkatili was in her body, that means that only when she has mourkatili still in her system can she turn moura gold into platinum, but that also means that all platinum she turns has the same properties as mourkatili. So, I would not advise for her to turn anything else into platinum, and for her to return to where Grevu is and become healed again, then all will be well, besides, the “cure” that Mage Bellfast gave to Gregori was not infact a cure, but it would make everything Audra touch turn into deadly platinum and she would surely die of starvation.” Mage Alitssia insisted before you went over and picked up the platinum brick and watched as it turned from platinum white- to gold but then black ash almost instantaniously once again. 

“Guards, disregard that order about the gold bricks. As soon as they have all been classified as dowagers, they are free to go. My apologies Marquees Saharazat.” King Leopold offered as he looked both fearful yet apologetic before he ordered for that mess to be cleaned up immediately before the Voyambi’s finally came into the audience room to see the King, the Queen and the Queen Mother leave quickly through one door as the Morrigans had already been carted off in chains which was a relief to see before they came in to see you standing there with blackened hands but with golden hair again with a pile of black ash at your feet and on your dress. 

“What happened?” Demsey asked as he approached you before the masters returned with your parents and your grandmothers and your hier father and his wife and his mother in tow as they all had their masters rolled up in their hands with big bright smiles as the smiles immediately fell when they saw the scene. 

“Addie? What happened?” Your mother asked. 

“I unleashed the gold plague.” You whispered before you were called back by the masters of the stables to be reexamined by them and the group of doctors with them as you explained to them what had just happened in the audience room with Mage Altissia’s help.  

“Unfortuantely Sultana Saharazat, because of the mourkatili and because of your affect on moura gold, we can not give you the status of Dowager, the best we can offer you is Tavnit and until you are healed, you can not set foot back into Dorierra.” Master Ophelia offered apologetically as you closed your eyes and let your tears of disappointment fall. 

“That’s fine, I accept.” You nodded as it was put into your master and stamped in as your hands were washed clean from the ashes as you walked away and went over to Dr. Chu and his wife to get reexamined by them as Dr. Chu took your blood pressure and his eyes went wide. 

“Mei, take her blood pressure and pulse.” Wen insisted in Mandarin to his wife before she did as he asked as her eyes went wide. 

“What is it?” You asked them softly in Mandarin to keep your conversation private in the corner. 

“My Lady, you have the happy heartbeat.” Mei informed you with big wide eyes and a serious face. 

“I what?” You asked. 

“You are pregnant, about three and a half weeks to a month along.” Dr. Chu diagnosed as Mei nodded in agreement to that diagnosis as you searched your thoughts back before you remembered- that last night with Demsey Draft, at the Masquerade ball, you were so heartbroken, that you forgot to order the pregnancy warding tea. You did not drink it that last time and apparently that was all it took. 

“Can I get rid of it? Surely it’s too early…” You tried to ask. 

“No, this is why Grevu healed you. I can tell by your chi, aura and energy readings. His magic is protecting this babe from all harm, even now, the mourkatili is not harming it at all, it’s being shielded and protected.” Mei explained as she waived her hands over your abdomen to feel the variations in energy as tears flooded your vision. To be so close to finally being with Duke Demsey Voyambi and Demsey Draft planted an obstacle right into your belly and you loved Demsey too much to try to pass this on as his, even if you married him today, the baby would come a month too soon. And while Mr. Draft and Duke Voyambi shared a lot of the same features, surely you couldn’t live with yourself if you passed this baby off as his. You needed to get out of here. And fast. 

“Say nothing, to anyone.” You pleaded with them. 

“Of course.” They readily agreed. 

“Thank you.” You thanked them as you hugged them tight before you bowed in respect to both of them to honor them. 

“I have to go.” You excused yourself as you left the room and the moment you saw Demsey, as much as you wanted to run into his arms, you couldn’t and it felt worse than a thousand stabs to the heart as you came out into the audience room with your master rolled up in your hands as you went over to your family and revealed what had happened with the stable masters as they too started crying. 

“Leumeni? Why are there so many letters between you and Audra?” Kiera asked as she picked a small stack of them up and looked them over. 

“We are just close friends, that is all.” You tried to excuse as you grabbed the letters out of her hand as you readily got a bag and hurriedly dumped all of your mail into it to keep anyone else from looking through it.  

“Yup, just close friends,” Leumeni did his best to deflect just as you heard Benny scream out a ‘What?!’ in horror and outrage. 

“What the hell?” You asked as Benny came storming out of that room. 

“Leumeni! Coravien! Come we need to go home! Now!” Benny demanded angrily in Marinai as she stormed out of the examination room before you went over to Dr. Chu and his wife. 

“What was that?” You asked them in Mandarin.

“She has the happy heartbeat too. Grevu’s snot made the seed from the sex she had the night before the Kamoba take root. His magic is protecting her babe just like yours, but until he lifts his magic, she has no choice but to bear the babe. Even now she is going to plead with him to lift it so she can kill it.” Mei answered as you gasped and covered your mouth with both hands as Sierge came over to you. 

“What is wrong with Benny? What are they saying?” Sierge asked you. 

“Uh, Sierge, you need to go back to the Palace of Windsor and stay with Benny and do not let Benny approach Grevu until she tells you exactly why she wants anything to do with him.” You advised him with a gesture to your belly as if you were stroking a very pregnant belly as Sierge’s eyes went wide when you made that gesture before he fled Buckingham Palace to chase after Benny.

#Blood For Gold #Blood For Gold Chapter 20 #regency era orc period drama #regency orcs #orcs #orc love story #orc romance #monster boyfriend

[ironmandeficiency]

who’s my commander

pairing: no pairing

word count: 3352

summary: you’re introducing anakin to your battalion and it turns into a nightmare of epic proportions (for him). everyone else seems to be enjoying themselves.

a/n: based on the finest pieces of comedy in history, abbot and costello’s “who’s on first”. the clones are all original & will soon give more information about them, don’t worry.

jones lands the laat/i on the surface of felucia and you’re already dreading the idea of leaving your men here. it has nothing to do with the man you’re entrusting them to and everything to do with the cursed reputation this planet has for its hostility. if you weren’t leaving your men behind you’d be glad to leave.

the doors opened unceremoniously and you were barely adjusted to the light when you saw members of the five-oh-first approaching you behind their general. “anakin, it’s been too long! how are you?”

he smiles and takes your hand in one of his. “i’ve been worse, my friend. now i’d like you to introduce me to your command team, since none of us have worked together before.”

rex, who was standing at anakin’s right, knew what was about to happen. many of the lavender-clad men of the 25th battalion were known for being jokers back in their cadet days and had a reputation for such all around the gar. nearly a third were banned from 79’s for their well-meaning antics and when they were around, everyone was guaranteed to have a good time (if they had a sense of humor, that is).

the names of their higher-ranking officers, however, were the best and longest-running prank any clone had ever seen. it started out as a way to piss off the longnecks but it soon evolved to a new, unforeseen method to screw with the seppies.

and now, it was going to mind fuck one of the best generals in the republic army.

“absolutely, but i will warn you, sometimes our men give themselves funny names.” it’s hard work to keep your voice from betraying the joke. you’ve done this song and dance often and it never stops being funny. this time, you hope one of your men are close enough to record this one. “names like crappemm, jort-“

“jort?”

“yes, and his batchmate ba.”

“i see.”

 how was “jort” the one that stuck out?

anakin nods and you smile. He probably doesn’t believe the names you rattled off are actual men in your battalion but he’ll learn soon enough when your men begin to make sheep noises that you weren’t joking.

“anyway, who’s my commander, what’s my captain, and i don’t know is my sergeant.”

the dumbfounded look you’re given by your fellow general almost sends you into the force right then and there. “that’s... what i want to find out.”

“so listen then. who’s my commander, what’s my captain, and i don’t know is my sergeant.” you don’t need the force to see that anakin’s men are enjoying the confusion radiating from him, his second in command stepping out of anakin’s line of vision so he can bring a hand to his head in amused exasperation.

“are you their general?”

“yes.”

“have you been their general since the start of the war?”

“yes.”

“yet you don’t know their names?!”

“well i should.”

more men from both the twenty-fifth and the five-oh-first have gathered to witness the mind boggling conversation between their generals. over rex’s shoulder you see two five-oh-first troopers enthusiastically eating from a bag of air-combusted kernels popular on coruscant. now that you think about it, it’s been too long since you enjoyed the snack. you’d have to find some next time your men are on leave.

“so then who’s your commander?”

“yes.” he’s right but he just didn’t realize it yet. ‘this is going to be fun… if he doesn’t fight me before i leave.’

“i mean the man’s name.”

“who.”

“your commander?”

“who.”

“the trooper that is your second in command!”

“who.”

rex turns to the commander in question. he had found his way to rex’s side where the latter now stood slightly behind anakin, discretely staying out of his general’s peripherals. “does this ever get old?” rex had never seen the well-known introductions of jedi to the twenty-fifth in person and quickly decided that the holos he had seen didn’t do it justice. 

“not really, since you never know what to expect from each general.” who pulls a holodisc from a pouch kept around his waist and turns it on, presenting it to the man beside him. it’s a picture of general windu, his face frozen in a stupefied daze of perplexion. “here’s our first moments with the 91st several months back. it was my favorite, but skywalker’s becoming a high contender for the best reaction in my book.”

rex removed his helmet and lightly thwacked who with it. “general skywalker’s a smart man, he’ll figure it out soon.”

general skywalker did not, in fact, figure it out soon.

“who is my commander!”

“i’m asking you who your commander is!” anakin was dumbfounded as to why you were asking him, a man who has never seen your troopers a day in his life, the name of your commander. he’d have to get kix to check you for a concussion before you left because this wasn’t normal.

you let out a good-natured sigh before continuing your explanation. at this point you could tell it was going to take anakin a little while to understand the concept of your men’s names and hoped that kit would be okay with you running a bit late for your rendezvous. “that’s the man’s name!”

“that’s who’s name?”

“yes.”

“well go ahead and tell me!”

“that’s it!”

“your commander’s who?”

“yes.”

lavender hurriedly shushed cornflower blue in mixed efforts to contain the laughter. if anakin noticed the commotion around him it wasn’t acknowledged, much to the relief of everyone privy to the scene playing out.

fives was most definitely recording his general making a fool of himself and intended to spread it like wildfire across the arc trooper communication channels. to fives’s distant left, a fellow arc trooper from your battalion was doing the same but in slightly better quality. see, because has been through this scenario plenty of times to know how to keep his footage from getting shaky. the five-oh-first arc trooper, however, had no such advantage, his hud shaking periodically from his chortling.

“look, all i’m trying to figure out is who responds when you’re calling for your commander!”

“yes!”

anakin fixes a glare on you and you returned it with more mirth than was probably warranted. the last time a fellow jedi had been so cross at this situation was back when you were working with master windu. the man had so little patience these days that if he still had hair, it’d have probably fallen out during your last encounter with him.

when because sends you the footage of this latest introduction, you’d have the perfect reason for your tardiness. you’d also be equipped with a way to make your former master smile and a bribe to convince kit to take you for a swim.

“look, general, all i’m trying to find out is what’s the name of your commander!”

“no, what’s the name of my captain!”

“i’m not asking who your captain is, i’m-“

“who’s my commander!”

“one trooper at a time!”

behind his helmet, fives is crying from holding his laughter, and it’d be a correct assumption that most of the five-oh-first is doing the same as well as some of the shinies of the twenty-fifth.

“don’t change my men around!”

“i’m not changing anyone!”

“take it easy there, anakin.”

anakin wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but he has no karking idea what kind of banthashit is going on here. “what’s the name of your commander?”

“no, what is my captain! i’ve said this already.”

“i’m not asking you who’s your captain!”

“who is my commander!”

“i don’t know!”

“he’s my sergeant, but we’re not talking about him right now.”

the sound of a helmet clattering to the ground draws your attention to where ba and jort are doing their best to silence a member of the five-oh-first with blue stripes on his face. the man in blue seems to be having a difficult time holding it together, judging by how he’s clutching his side and hunched, trying to fix his breathing.

anakin also turns toward the choking trooper and is worried when he sees hardcase almost on the ground. from what, anakin doesn’t know, but it doesn’t look good.

“he’s fine, generals! popping kernel just went down the wrong hole!” clever one, that jort was. always knew what to say at the right moment.

anakin, once he accepted that his man was okay, turned back toward you. if you weren’t so close to him you could fool yourself into thinking that his eye wasn’t twitching (it was).

“how did i bring up your sergeant?!”

“you mentioned his name, general.”

“if i mentioned your sergeant’s name, who did i say was your sergeant?”

you have to draw from the force to keep your expression neutral. maker, if you knew anakin would be this easily duped by your men, you would have requested to work with him much earlier into the war.

“he’s my commander.”

“what’s your commander?”

“what’s my captain.”

“i don’t know!”

“he’s my sergeant.”

“there i go, back to your sergeant!”

jesse’s hand snakes it’s way back into the bag of popping kernels kix held, the medic swatting at it blindly before moving the bag into the hand furthest from the cog-tatted man beside him. his eyes were glued to the scene in front of him, the general’s confusion making for wonderful entertainment. it made him forget for a moment that they were on felucia, also known as one of the worst hellholes a clone could be assigned to.

“all i’m trying to find out is who’s your sergeant?”

“why are you so insistent on making who my sergeant?” you can feel the force signatures of your men and at this moment, they’re so bright and happy it’s almost staggering.

“what am i making your sergeant?!”

“no, what is my captain, and who is my commander!”

“i don’t know!”

you remind skywalker the rank i don’t know holds with a quick shout of “sergeant!” and leave it there.

until anakin takes a deep breath to center himself, asking if you’ve got arc troopers.

“sure do.”

“give me their names.”

“why,-“ you try to give him the name of your arcs but he interrupts you before you can finish.

“i just thought i’d ask you!”

“well i just thought i’d answer you!”

anakin is losing his cool again and wonders to himself when you got so snarky. “then tell me who is your arc trooper-“

“who is my commander.”

“stop talking about your commander!”

if you weren’t such good friends with the jedi in front of you, it’d be safe to bet that you’d be sporting at least one black eye (if not a broken rib or two alongside it).

“give me an arc trooper’s name!” ‘now we’re getting somewhere!’ you think to yourself.

you answer him honestly, the same way you have been since you stepped off the laat/i. “why.”

“because!”

“oh, he’s an arc trooper too. how did you know?”

anakin sputters for a moment before quieting. he was trying to understand… whatever was going on. but so far, you weren’t giving him anything but a headache.

crappemm is approached by a member of the five-oh-first in arc gear. the man was surprisingly indistinct for a member of his battalion, no tattoos or facial hair to set him apart from the others. from what crappemm had seen and heard of the battalion he was set to work with on this hellhole, skywalker’s men were known for their out-of-this-box methods of setting themselves apart.

this one, however, seemed to keep things simple. 

crappemm loves his crazy brothers, there was no doubt, but sometimes he can’t handle the constant noise and hubbub that chased his vod’e like flies chased honey. being around this one was refreshing, to say the least.

the arc trooper was amused by what was going on, but the difference between this one and the others was that he wasn’t letting his emotions take over. he kept his composure and was quiet, the only thing breaking the stoicism was a smirk and the occasional light shaking of his shoulders. crappemm was gonna stick around this one.

“please tell me this is really happening and i’m not hallucinating.” the lavender man was so caught up in enjoying the lack of cackling from beside him that he almost missed the words directed to him from the man in blue.

“well vod,” crappemm set a hand on the arc’s shoulder with a grin, “i’m happy to report that this is actually happening in real time.”

the arc sighed in relief. “thank you. i didn’t think i was capable of thinking of something this bloody crazy but it’s nice to be sure. the name’s echo.” echo extended a hand toward him and the other happily accepted it.

“crappemm.” they fall into an easy, comfortable silence as they enjoy the generals that were still going at it.

“look! you got a lieutenant?”

“sure.”

“the lieutenant’s name?”

“tomorrow.”

anakin was flabbergasted. he might as well ask one of your men for his name if you weren’t going to tell him. then again, what reason did you have to not tell him right then? “you’re not going to tell me today?”

“i’m telling you today.”

“then go ahead, tell me.”

“tomorrow.”

“what time?”

“what time what?” anakin was beginning to talk you into circles, which is something no one has ever been able to do the entire time you’ve played this game with your men. you weren’t supposed to be the one asking questions, that was his part in this!

“what time tomorrow are you going to tell me who your lieutenant is?”

ah, that’s what he meant. “now listen, who is not the lieutenant.”

your fellow general threw his arms up in frustration barely contained. “i’ll break your arm if you say who’s your commander one more time! i wanna know, what’s the lieutenant’s name?”

“what’s my captain’s name!”

“i don’t know!”

“sergeant!”

you can tell it’s getting harder for some of the men to not give in to the urge to shriek and guffaw and cackle and roll on the ground holding their sides. sithspit, it’s getting hard for you to keep a straight face through all of this.

nearby, commander who shakes his head at the captain of the five-oh-first. “i thought you said your general would get it, rex.” the tease was evident in his voice and it wouldn’t have taken a genius to know just how much he was taking pride in his jetti’s ability to fuck with “the hero with no fear” so profoundly.

rex shrugged noncommittally. “i thought he would’ve understood by now too, but i guess not.”

who chortled and patted rex’s shoulder almost in sympathy (a vod that didn’t know who as well as he did would have thought so, but not rex). he playfully pushed the hand away and refocused his attention to his general.

“so if i were going down the chain of command, the first one i’d give orders to would be who?”

“now that’s the first thing you’ve said right since i got here!” you don’t even acknowledge the fact he said this as a question because he was right! finally!

anakin didn’t seem to like your reply. that was made clear when he shouted, almost at the top of his lungs, “i don’t even know what i’m talking about!”

there were a few snorts of laughter from all sides and some of yours were smart enough to make some sort of noise to cover them up. if anakin caught on now, the whole thing would be screwed.

“all you gotta do is give the orders to the commander!”

“and who’s going to act on the orders?”

“naturally.” you think he’s starting to get it but you aren’t sure. he’s getting closer though, which is a relief as much as it is bringing an end to the prank.

“look! when i have to give a command, somebody’s gonna have to act on it! who carries out the order?!” wait a minute, never mind. he was still oblivious. if kit didn’t like this video he was going to have your ass for being late. you’ve gotta at least try to help the poor guy now that your ass is on the line (you’ve never had to do this before, usually whatever general gets too exasperated to keep it going as long as anakin has).

“naturally.”

“naturally?” he asks once again.

“naturally.” you confirm.

he ponders this for a moment before continuing, “so i should expect my order to be carried out by naturally.”

“no, you don’t! it gets done by who!”

“naturally.”

“that’s different.”

he was using naturally as a name instead of a state of being, a description, which is what you were trying to get through his head. however, it was having the opposite effect.

jort has never heard this particular turn of events and he was thinking that after today, there would be a shiny named naturally that would make his way into the affections of question company. he honestly couldn’t wait for the day and told ba and hardcase the same. they nodded and ba had thrown out the number designation of a shiny that had been weaseling his way into his good side as a good candidate for the name before returning their attention to the fiasco that was their generals.

“that’s what i said!”

“you’re not saying that!”

“i give the command to naturally!”

“you give the command to who!”

“naturally.”

“that’s it.”

“that’s what i said!”

how much longer was this going to last? kit said he needed you for something time-sensitive and you had to set time aside for the mishaps that you knew would always happen when you went to do important stuff. you were a magnet for weird shit happening and this conversation is a symbol of said weird shit.

with a deep breath, you continue. “listen. you ask me.”

anakin’s reply was quick and certain. where did he get the confidence to talk like he knew what he was talking about? probably an obi-wan thing. “i give the order to naturally.”

‘ugh, not this again!’ “no you don’t, you give it to who!”

“i give the order to who?”

“naturally.”

“same as you!” it’s not the same context but it seems that anakin is too busy trying to wrap his mind around this insanity to put the pieces together.

“okay,” anakin continues, “i give the order to who and whoever goes and passes the order to what! what sends it down to i don’t know, and i don’t know passed the information to tomorrow!! perfect flow of command!”

you nod, encouraging him to keep going.

“now let’s say i need some recon done before we make a plan of attack.” anakin’s trying to analyze the shitshow you threw in front of him as logically as he can with the budding headache. “i give an order to because! why? i don’t know, and i don’t kriffing care!”

that last bit was unexpected. “what’d you say?”

“i said, ‘i don’t kriffing care!’”

“oh, he’s our best sniper.”

anakin let out a yell of anger and bafflement you’d never heard from him before. you turned toward the laat/i waiting patiently for you to board and climbed in, sending a trickster’s smile to the men you were leaving behind.

your friend had clearly given up, his head almost dropping from his inability to comprehend whatever it was you were going on about. he’d figure out their names on his own since you weren’t going to be of any help.

while en route to where kit had wanted you to meet him, you received a holocomm from a mirthful general kenobi who could barely contain his laughter. he must have seen the holo of his former padawan you reasoned. he promised to not share it with other generals as long as you found another way to bring anakin down a couple pegs next time you saw him.

#anakin skywalker x reader #star wars reader insert #star wars the clone wars #original clone characters #clone trooper jesse #clone trooper hardcase #clone trooper kix #captain rex #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #the chronicles of crappemm the clone #clone trooper ba #clone trooper jort #who's on first #question company #clone trooper jones #anakin skywalker #anakin #clone troopers #star wars imagines

[doorsclosingslowly]

Your death is a number but I cannot count that high (11/16)

In which Death Watch enter the enemy ship, and Asajj gets her shot at freedom.

Zombie Savage AU | 2.5k | warning for body horror

For the first time in weeks, Asajj feels light. It’s almost offensive, how quickly she slipped from world-devouring grief and heartburn and eternal nightmares into mission planning and execution mode, but then again: she enjoys bounty hunting. Pursuit and infiltration are basically her comfort zone, and even the present company cannot spoil her thrill.

She finally has solid ground under her feet again. The swamp that broils and laps at her with every dream and with every wriggling fleshworm that fucking Savage Opress sends her way is receding, and soon enough, when she gets her chance, she’ll kill it off—kill him—for good.

Asajj’s sisters and Mother Talzin may have accidentally landed her in a malignant trap when they tried to help her fight Dooku, but Asajj will chew her way free.

That’s why she volunteered to be ground troop today. She needs to rescue herself. She needs to cut off this bond, cut off the mate, cut off the drowning boulder. She’d been prepared to argue and fight for the opportunity, since it’s not like anybody trusts her here, but it was surprisingly easy. Not even a doubtful look—no, the only response she’d received was appreciation for her fearlessness in the face of certain death. Well, maybe it is. Maul keeps insisting that Savage’s torture is a trap laid by Sidious, his past shadowy Sith Master, and that setting a foot on Entralla means getting fried and disappeared and tortured. He himself is going down still, obviously—by now it doesn’t even appear to be bravado or tending to his image before his following but genuine mushy affection for that dumb creature, and if Asajj wasn’t busy she might almost be curious—Maul is coming down with her, as are Kast and Saxon and three dozen other supercommandos. That’s what they’d settled on, once their advance droid surveillance footage yesterday had revealed their target to be a small spaceship surrounded by a hundred medium-sized tents.

Maul, Kast and Saxon at once, who as far as she’s observed are the three highest-ranking members of Death Watch, and on what all of them believe is a suicide mission—Asajj would call them brain-dead, but actually, she doesn’t care. Either Maul is every inch the scared wretch of a cast-off Sith plaything he appears and is making mountains out of skrant-hills, or she’ll, most likely, be dead too. Looks like that gamorrean sow Kast likes to suck face with will soon inherit the whole sorry rest of their terrorist crew.

Most of Death Watch, though, is inside three hundred small Kom’rk-class fighters or the two stolen Separatist dreadnaughts, standing by to intercept any fleeing ship with gravity wells or sheer violence. Well. That’s one of the reasons. Every ground Mando is in periodic radio contact with one of their motherships, and should they go silent when Sidious gets them… if the mission goes sour, dead man’s switch. Asajj doesn’t know about the exact logistics of how many have to miss check-in before the omnicidal aerial bombardment begins… but she’s starting to understand Maul’s paranoia regarding this ‘Sidious’ well enough to know they’re going to risk killing their Mand’alor sooner rather than later. It’s reassuring, almost. They’ll kill Sidious no matter what.

Well. And her, too.

But Asajj knew when she allowed that Mando to think she’d captured her that this wasn’t going to be easy. Up until know she’s always found a way to make it out alive. She’ll manage. And Sidious killed her sisters. Killed Talzin. Killed Dathomir.

Sidious will die, and so will Opress. Anything else is secondary.

She’s wearing a set of scavenged armor over her clothes and a jetpack and a gas mask, nothing more. Most of the ground team have massive tanks mounted on their back, too, full of some quick heavyweight airborne soporific Death Watch managed to procure on short notice.

(“If it’s taking this long to cook something up, we could just use poison,” Asajj had suggested, entirely not for selfless reasons. “We’re using the weedkiller tanks you Mandos use for farming, after all. We could just keep the weedkiller.”

“This is still a rescue mission,” Kast had replied severely. Unfortunately, despite being a fanatic terrorist and obeying Maul of all people and a habit of throwing tantrums about the horrible plight of Savage Opress, she wasn’t entirely braindead. “Damage is acceptable, but we won’t kill our brother.”

Maul had looked on, silent.)

Maul and Asajj are going to enter the ship first. That makes sense—both of them are assassins more than soldiers, they’re better than the Mandos at keeping quiet—and even if Maul will be a hindrance when they find Savage, she can use him as a distraction before that.

It feels weird, somehow, touching ground in front of the enemy’s ship. The unconscious guards on the ground are wearing clone trooper armor, which means that—yes, it means Death Watch got the drop on them and it means the soporific gas is effective, which is great, but Asajj didn’t expect this mission against Sidious to include a Grand Army of the Republic protection detail, and neither did Maul, though he appears far less perturbed by this information than Asajj is. Nothing before has linked Sidious to the Republic. She trusts the magicks she used to find this location, though. This is where the bondmate is being held.

Maul opens a control panel next to the ship’s door and plays around with a couple of screwdrivers, while Mando supercommandos direct their sedative gas into the ship’s pried-open air vents.

And… they’re in.

Too easy.

This was far too easy for a secret prison of the illusive Sith Lord, and Maul, apparently, thinks so too. He keeps glancing sideways at her while the supercommandos tie up the sedated soldiers outside and while they enter the ship’s galley, and he insists they shouldn’t split up.

“This location does not appear my Master’s—my former Master’s style,” he whispers in his clipped accent. “It’s neither desolate, nor are there plush red carpets. It’s not a torture dungeon.” Maul looks at Asajj, and his eyes gleam with suspicion. “If you have lied to me, you are dead. If this hurts my brother, you’ll wish you were.”

“This is the place. My sisters’ magicks are never wrong,” Asajj replies haughtily. It won’t do any good if both of them admit to their unease.

(Maul’s been vibrating faintly ever since Asajj broke into his brain to find Opress. It’s probably fear and anticipation, and most of all the superfluous awareness of him that she’s gained ever since exploiting both their bonds. Maybe he was always this high-strung.

“Someone’s attacking him,” he’d whispered to her just minutes before they reached Entralla, as if by joining their minds she had proven she cared. His eyes had been dark, agonized. In a movement that appeared entirely involuntary, he’d gripped at his neck as if looking for a pendant, and then he’d hugged himself, holding onto his torso and stomach as if his slippery entrails were ready to leak out.

Asajj had looked down and realized she was mirroring him.

When she slid her eyes half-shut, she could see the shadows of undulating metal cables.)

The ship, on the inside, just appears a standard Republic cruiser. It has a single long hallway that Asajj is pulled down by the worms in her gut, and Maul, frowning and broadcasting dread, follows.

They pass unconscious Republic clones at uneven intervals.

It’s so—ordinary. Asajj knows these ships. And there are no traps at all, just that pulsing connection drawing her forwards, shading and twisting, the memory of desolation and grief and that orange boy getting chocked (Kast’s eyes were so hard when she said, “He tried to give me his lightsaber, too, so I would have an easy time of killing him, if—when, he said, when he was used again to hurt his little brother,” that Asajj almost felt guilty) and everyone on Dathomir is dead and—

There.

She stops, and Maul comes to a halt behind her, ‘saber raised.

An open doorway, half-blocked by an armored redhead that seems vaguely familiar, and the beckoning hand of her sisters, and if Sidious doesn’t have the heart to provide a distraction for Maul then Asajj will just improvise.

“Back there, I think,” Asajj whispers, pointing at a random closed door to her left. “I can feel your brother in there.”

Maul’s eyes are wide. “I do not feel—are you sure?” he whispers, and he looks so young and hopeful bathed in the green glow he doesn’t understand and never had a right to wear that Asajj almost dares to believe her plan will work.

“I know these magicks,” Asajj drawls. “I don’t mind double-checking, but I thought you wanted him as alive as possible. He’s not doing well. Might get deep-fried at any moment, that’s not healthy for such a weak brain.”

It works. Maul bites back whatever kind of response he might have had, and he starts frantically working on slicing the door that was—her sisters are smiling upon Asajj—thankfully locked.

Asajj, meanwhile, tiptoes hurriedly forward and past the redhead—almost a decent glimpse of his head, why does she feel she knows him and—and inside the room she looks at a monster. The scene is arranged as if to mock her, a single bare cot in the middle of the room approximating a stone slab and the dimmed red electric lights a stand-in for the fire on the day she was tied to the boulder that tries to drown her. On the cot, as he was supine on the slab back then, lies unconscious Savage Opress.

Well. The used dog toy formerly known as Opress.

He’s always made her uncomfortable, even when they met. First, it was his silent bruised obsequiousness and the glances he’d shoot her after that arena fight, like he expected her to ravish him then and there just because she’d beaten him up. The sense that she’d stumbled into a world she didn’t understand drawn in silent rules and violence and sex—and Asajj has never liked that anxiety born of ignorance though she can and will tough it out and persevere, and only with the bond strangling her did she realize her stupid mistake—the sense that there was something hiding below her feet ready to devour her. He only got more obsequious and annoying after the ritual that tied Asajj to him, with his empty brainless eyes that somehow simultaneously said do whatever you want with me and I’ll kill you. She was happy to use him, if it got her traitorous ex-Master Dooku off her back, but she was at least as happy that the plan included Opress staying at Dooku’s side, not hers. Well, in the end, he was as useless as he was stupid and creepy, and Asajj had to fight Dooku on her own while Opress escaped his leash and used the power gifted to him by Talzin to harass innocent villagers and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He doesn’t have the body that Mother Talzin gave him anymore. Not that he ever deserved it.

Savage Opress, who is bound by ancient magicks to Asajj, looks like someone took his corpse and stuffed it full of a crashed spaceship debris in a desperately poor attempt at covering up an accident. The body Mother Talzin’s Dathomiri magicks gave him was stout, forceful, architected and executed with a keen eye and deep control, while whoever did this was a careless butcher. Asajj has seen carnage and pain, she’s fought and killed and maimed, and yet she has never seen anything as bestial as the body before her.

Savage Opress, who is making her share his torture through a telepathic bond, looks like a gutted carcass. This is what became of one of the three last survivors of Dathomir: worms writhe in and out of him, the things she’s been feeling like phantom maggots burrowing into her heart made real and she can see them feasting and seaming up his raw mottled shoulders and lap at the empty spots where someone tore out his hearts. He’s still conscious, though, just asleep. She can feel him feeling the worms. She can see him breathing, though he doesn’t need to, not without an intact torso. Not without hearts. She feels sick. So this is what has been calling out to her. What has been sliding into her mind, unstoppable and unwanted. This has violated her dreams.

Savage Opress, the bondmate Asajj came here to covertly murder, looks like death would be a mercy.

“Ventress, what are you playing at? The room was empty and Kenobi is here,” Maul hisses from somewhere behind her. “I told you. You’ll die for your betrayal—Savage…”

Asajj turns, expecting a fight, but Maul looks like the air was punched out of him, and he’s rooted to the doorway. The air around him tastes of abhorrence and dawning dread. He could have reached Savage before her, in her stupor—he could have jammed his ‘saber into her back—but now she’s jolted loose and ready to take her one chance at freedom.

To take mercy on Savage, for once in her life.

She drives her lightsaber into his right eye socket.

Maul’s scream behind her is vile, deeply inhuman and guttural and echoing over and over and over in the small room. It’s so loud her eye starts to hurt. His howl is the storm and the cave and the first drink in a lifetime. It’s green. It’s gentleness and sympathy he thought his Master had long driven out of the apprentice, but in teaching Savage he can’t help but refrain from using the techniques he once had endured himself. He doesn’t understand the reason—he is Sith and if he does not teach his apprentice to draw power from pain, he will have failed him. He doesn’t understand, but he feels something quake when he is called brother and when he notices he turned his back to Savage and never even expected to get hurt—he doesn’t understand, but somehow, he does. He loves Savage. Savage loves him. Maul was never meant for love, was made a weapon to be used and abused and discarded by a Master wielding power he’ll never attain, but somehow, Maul found this one person who loves him. Maul lost the person who loves him. Maul just lost him again. Maul won’t lose the person who loves him. He won’t. He can’t. He refuses. He loves—

And desperate love paints the room acid green. Greedy love tears the cot to tiny metal shreds. Unconditional love presses hot and painful into Asajj’s right eye, and she’s taking tiny measured steps toward Savage, in rhythmic unison with Maul and unstoppable no matter how hard she tries to take back her body.

Love, no matter what it takes, and both their green-bathed hands touch Savage.

All goes black.

#asajj ventress #darth maul #savage opress #savage oppress #dimtraces makes things #zombie savage au

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #22- If You Don’t Love Thunderclash, Get Better Soon I Guess

One last issue before we reach Comic Event Hell.

Time to use a dead man to set up the rest of the nonsense that’s got to happen, because apparently 14 issues of setup, including six issues of literal prelude, wasn’t enough.

The first bit of information we’re presented with is the fact that Chromedome and Swerve are on the opposite sides of the camera-shy scale. I guess that’s bound to happen when your spouse has had his video-cam literally connected to his brain for at least several thousand years.

The art may look really gritty and hardcore here, but this is actually due to a filter Rewind has over all his footage that he’s neglected to take off, because it made all the wartime propaganda he would stuff into people’s heads all the more brutal-looking.

No, this is the style of our artist for this issue, James Raiz, who we’ll be seeing a fair bit of over the next several issues. Raiz has worked on the Transformers franchise over the course of multiple license-holders, as well as contributed to both Marvel and DC comics. He also works in special effects, including matte painting and VFX. That’s just neat.

Anyway, the reason Swerve’s completely frozen in place isn’t because Rewind  switched out his head-mounted camera for a gun that goes off if it hears you make a self-deprecating joke, but rather because he’s conducting interviews with everyone in the main cast. We get all their introductions, Cyclonus makes a statement about his political stances, Drift sounds like he’s high as a kite, First Aid strikes a sassy pose while not being bitter in the slightest, and Ultra Magnus makes a move that would get him murdered on any given film set in the universe.

You do NOT use your bare fucking hand to clean a camera lens, mister. Go get a microfiber cloth and try the fuck again, you complete and utter duffel bag of a creature.

We get a quick cut of the speech Rodimus made back in issue #1, with an angle that implies that Rewind was in the front row of the front row, then cut over to Rodimus asking Rewind to document their Capital-Q Quest. This is where we establish that this film doesn’t only contain footage from Rewind’s personal camera, but also that of the Lost Light’s security system.

Which feels like the sort of access you maybe wouldn’t want to give some nosy little film buff, especially when you have a secret giant serial killing sadist living in your basement like a disappointing adult child.

See? He was given the job to record the adventures of the Lost Light not five minutes ago, and he’s already using his powers for evil. Eavesdropping evil. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, Rodimus, and you just handed it to the guy with a massive Dominus Ambus-shaped chip on his shoulder.

So Rewind’s got permission to film just about whatever he wants, and Rodimus figures it’ll be nonstop action from here to the finish line! Fights! Intrigue! Mild hijinks and peril! Explosions aplomb! Oh man, I can’t wait to see what kinds of crazy shit will happen on this absolute roller coaster of a Quest!

Smashcut to Swerve literally falling asleep in the middle of a conversation. Yeah, as it turns out, no quest, capital Q or not, is nonstop action. Which is good, honestly, because that kind of seems like it would be exhausting after the first week or so.

Swerve, Tailgate, and Rewind are discussing cool alt-modes, which seems like an odd topic, seeing as Tailgate and Swerve have basically the same situation going on there, leaving Rewind alone in the camp of “does not have wheels”.

I worry about you sometimes, Rewind. Internalized Functionism is a very real problem. Uh, well, in your universe anyway. Us humans have to deal with regular ol’ classism and racism.

Rung gets brought up, and it’s revealed that the wheel on his back is almost purely cosmetic; it doesn’t even actually attach to his body. The lads decide that they’ve got nothing better to do, and set up a gentlemen’s wager- first one to figure out Rung’s whole deal gets 100 space-dollars.

Throwing shit at people’s heads will be a major plot point in the climax of this comic series.

Swerve’s go at trying to win the bet involved tossing a grenade at Rung to hit him in the neural cluster, which is rumored to be able to force an involuntary mode change if done correctly. Obviously, it didn’t work this go around. Then our narrative focus switches over to the crew’s hobbies.

You were listening to Prince, weren’t you, Magnus? Not even deep space is safe from the Cease and Desist.

Skids’ hobby is meeting new people, because he suffers from the terrible curse of being so fucking good at everything he tries, he always ends up dropping whatever he picked up, because what’s the point? This acts as a segue into another flashback, to even MORE bullshit that the fellas got roped into on Hedonia.

These are the Stentarians. They’re like the Cybertronians, if they were better in every way.

And by “better”, I, of course, mean “more bloodthirsty, warmongering, and driven enough to make their civil war last about as long as the Jurassic Period”. Also, they’re all combiners by default, and Whirl seems a little TOO into their whole situation. So much so, in fact, that when the Imperial Guard of their race show up to kill them, he decides to do them a solid by single-handedly ending their entire war.

You know, in most cases you’re supposed to show and not tell for visual media. This is way funnier, though, so it can be excused.

We jump back into the interviews, and Rewind’s just asked everyone if they’re happy. This might seem like an odd question, until you remember that everyone on-board this ship has crippling depression and PTSD, and Rewind’s married to one of the saddest motherfuckers to ever exist, so he probably has this question loaded into the proverbial chamber at any given moment. We won’t cover all of the answers here, because they’ll be more poignant to reflect back on later in the comic run, but let’s take a gander at the characters who’ve completed the first leg of their character arcs this season.

Drift, is that perhaps… an honest expression of your inner thought processes happening right there? Has Rewind broken through your carefully crafted persona, if even for just a moment, with his question? Perish the thought!

Because Tailgate outed himself as being baby in issue #21, I have zero doubt he’s not exaggerating here. He was a janitor, then he fell in a hole and became Dirt-Nap Supreme for six million years; even the most boring day on the Lost Light’s got to be better than that.

And it’s nice to see Chromedome on a good day for once. Hopefully he reveled in it while he had the chance, because this interview takes place maybe a couple weeks before he fucks everything up big time and has to blow up his husband with a missile strike.

Getting back to the Mystery of the Rungian Alt-Mode plotline, we see Rung using his backpack as a wheelbarrow- no idea what he’s actually pushing in the damned thing- and wearing the most disgruntled face I’ve seen him pull in a hot minute. Someone yells for him to come down the eerily unlit and sinister-looking hallway, which he does. Rung would not do well in a horror film.

He winds up at Swerve’s, where Tailgate, Swerve, Brainstorm, and someone who is most likely Trailcutter, given the colors, are hanging out in their alt-modes. Tailgate’s ploy to find out Rung’s deal is to do what he does best- lie! They’re having an alt-mode party, and wouldn’t Rung like to join in? There are, of course, logistical issues with being a car in a bar, especially when your drink is on the table and your head is tucked up somewhere in your torso, but never mind all that! Let’s get crazy!

This doesn’t work either. Maybe we should cut out the middle man here and just get Rung drunk enough to agree to a wet alt-mode contest.

No, I don’t have any idea how that would work.

In our next vignette, Rodimus comes into the comms room, Rewind trailing behind him like a grim shadow of death, to see what the hell Blaster wants, other than just the hugest glass of water.

Raiz’s work is very detailed, and you really feel the weight of these giant metal space robots, but everyone looks like they’ve been put through a food dehydrator.

We get a lot of build up to the character who’s about to be introduced, with a common opinion being shared amongst everyone- even Tailgate, who hates successful people like his life depends on it.

Lovely readers, put your hands together for the ideal male partner for Autobots, Decepticons, and Neutrals alike:

A man with so much charisma and charm that only Rodimus could hate him, Thuderclash brings to IDW what everyone wishes Optimus Prime would, making our disappointing space dad even more mediocre by comparison. He fights for justice, and freedom, and the good of the universe- and he does it all while having a chronic medical condition that forces him to stay within a certain distance of his ship that is also a life-support machine, otherwise he will die. Despite his handicaps, Thunderclash seemingly brings to others what they need most, even if they don’t even realize that they needed it in the first place.

He also, in this one scene, appeals to Drift’s religious sensibilities, does a secret best-friend dance with Ratchet (who he helped to pass his medical exams- yes, Ratchet), and congratulates Rodimus on his questing so far.

Thunderclash is one of those characters that everyone in-universe is supposed to love, and I completely buy it- because he’s completely genuine and humble about all of this the entire time.

Compare this to the last time Roberts wrote Thunderclash, in Eugenesis.

Where he was an ex-Decepticon.

And kind of an abrasive asshole.

And then he died.

Y’know, now that I think of it, Eugenesis Thunderclash and MTMTE Ambulon being basically the same character makes a whole lot of sense, even without the horrors of Roberts’ Twitter getting involved.

Thunderclash reveals that he, too, is on a quest to find the Knights of Cybertron, much to Rodimus’ chagrin. But first he needs the Lost Light to break out the jumper cables, and then for his second in command to stop threatening his life.

Turns out, not everyone is as obvious as the Cybertronians with their naming conventions. Whirl assassinated the wrong folks; I’m sure the Galactic Council is utterly thrilled. Paddox wants to steal the quantum engine technology for the good of his people, so they can kick the ass of the up-and-coming Terradore leader.

Completely unaware of the situation unfolding here in the lab, Swerve is directing Rung towards the warm, loving aura of Thunderclash for another go at winning the gentlemen’s wager- through the power of lying about having friends, Swerve’s “agreed” to get Rung Thunderclash’s autograph, in exchange for getting to check that Rung’s transformation cog is still working. Then they bump into the nightmare currently unfolding. My, whoever will save us from this dreaded menace, who holds a gun to the head of the Autobots’ greatest warrior, confidant, friend, and perhaps even lover?

How about a bartender and a giant vape pen?

Okay, so Rung doesn’t actually turn into a vape. It turns out that the Mystery of the Rungian Alt-Mode is also a mystery to the man himself. Because Rung is old as shit, the Functionists got to see this bullshit for themselves, and ended up testing him over and over and over trying to figure it out, lest he prove to be a flaw in their fascist ideologies. Fun fact: fascists HATE it when people they’re trying to oppress don’t play to their expectations.

The Functionists were the ones who gave Rung his little wheelie backpack, to make him at least appear useful. This sort of treatment tends to warp one’s head a bit, which would explain why he’s bothered to keep it for so long- internalized functionism’s a real bitch.

At least he’s not giving teenagers nicotine addictions under the guise of being somewhat better than cigarettes.

Back with Rodimus and Cybertron’s Autobot of the Year for 40,000 consecutive years, we get the unfortunate news that jump-starting Thunderclash’s ship is going to make the Quest go a bit slower for the Lost Light, much to Rodimus’ horror, though he does his best to put on a brave face; after all, that’s what heroes do, isn’t it?

It’s at this point that it’s revealed that “Little Victories” was being screened to all the Circle of Light members who didn’t get murdered or turned into Legislators on Luna 1, and man are these guys pissy. What was meant to be a recruitment video turned out to do just the opposite, because none of these guys want anything to do with what the Lost Light’s got going on.

Too bad Rewind didn’t have time for a cleaner cut for showing. Maybe they could have at least snagged a couple of these guys to tag along.

As all of the Circle of Light leave the theatre to go call everyone’s favorite Autobot to see if he needs a more crew members, the film plays on behind Skids, back to the interviews, as everyone promises more adventures just waiting on the horizon.

You’re not even on this trip anymore, you dork.

Chromedome gives us the title drop for the movie and issue, and we cut to Rewind organizing a group photo of all the interviewees.

And then Rewind died horribly like a week later. Thus ends season one of More Than Meets the Eye!

While I’m here, I’d like to take the time to cover a little bit of cut content from this issue, a scene between Drift and Ratchet.

Drift, during his interview, recalls the time that Ratchet called him into his office for a very serious discussion about his/Pharma’s hands.

Yeah, turns out they’re haunted.

Well, no, not really, because this is a prank. But Drift doesn’t know that yet.

Ratchet demonstrates this hand-haunting by punching Drift in the face, as he screams damnation at Pharma’s ghost. Drift, because he is a spiritual man, knows exactly what to do to deal with this possession; he draws his sword and chops Ratchet’s hands off, then throws them out the airlock.

This, too, is a prank, not that Ratchet knows it right away, yelling at Drift that he’s crippled him.

Clearly, these two belong together.

This bit of cut script was lucky enough to have gotten drawn by the colorist for MTMTE Season 1, Josh Burcham. Burcham’s line art is iconic- you won’t mistake him for anyone else. It’s rough and angular, and honestly just very charming. I’m a sucker for this sort of style. If you want to see his adaptation of this chunk of script- and trust me, you do- the link’s right here:

https://dcjosh.tumblr.com/post/107665292031/its-done-the-mtmte-22-deleted-scene-in-all-its

#transformers #jro #mtmte #issue 22 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing