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wen-kexing-apologist · 1 year

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Bed Friend Episode 8 Thoughts

I don't have like anything cerebral to say that I could write a full analysis on (yet) but BOY OH BOY DO I HAVE SO MANY FUCKING THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS ABOUT THIS EPISODE so here comes a ramble:

First thought, I am so angry on Uea's behalf. LIKE YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT UEA HAD THIS LOVING, PRECIOUS AUNT WHO LITERALLY BURSTS INTO TEARS WHEN SHE SEES HIM AND CANNOT STOP HUGGING HIM, AND SO CLEARLY LOVES AND CARES FOR HIM AND HIS MOTHER RIPPED HIM AWAY FROM A CHANCE OF GROWING UP FEELING LOVED BY SOMEONE IN HIS FAMILY???????

Honestly, a travesty that we didn't have more time of them interacting, as much as it would have been bittersweet to see just how much he lost by moving out of Lampang, I want a little bit more security that he will have family who loves him unconditionally. I wanted a little bit more time of him getting to bask in familial love.

BUT THAT'S OKAY BECAUSE I REALIZED SOMETHING, PINK IS HOME IN THIS SHOW! At least for Uea. He's surrounded by it when he's asking his aunt if he can stay for awhile...

It's the color his sister wears at his "birthday party"

Which like, is that whole event a tragedy for Uea? Yes. But is this the first time we get to see Uea and his sister interact with each other as adults? Also yes, so they have to establish how Uea sees her.

It's the color that Uea wears when he is talking with King in the pool

(and honestly, talking specifically about Lampang, but because I am gay and read in to everything, we're going to say it's also how Uea feels about King and vice versa)

So Jade tells King about Krit and Uea's resignation, and it cuts to King practicing dangerous driving habits, BUT ALSO LITERALLY CRYING?

It's kinda hard to see, but I swear I see a bright line of shiny tear running along the bride of his nose. King may be the world's Goodest Boy, but he definitely fucked up and he knows it and I, personally, am glad that he is thinking back to his fight with Uea and seems to be feeling bad about it.

And now for what @respectthepetty has been waiting for

BLUE BOY APPEARS

And this shot is going to be my argument that King is fundamentally a blue boy because there is an establishing shot of just the blue jacket as he walks up to the inn, his face isn't present in this scene until Uea turns around to see him, so we only follow this light blue jacket.

OK LISTEN, I literally have been going back through every episode to take pictures of all of the reflections in each episode so I can compile a like master post of them because the reflections in Bed Friend tells a lot of the story/does a lot of work to show the character's true feelings. But I saw this image and said "fuck it! I can't save this for later, I have to talk about it now" the way UEA HAS KING'S BACK AND KING HAS UEA'S BACK! The way their only thoughts are of each other, the way there is no way for them to break eye contact. If Uea faces the other direction, he will still face King's reflection. I JUST!!!! a million forehead kisses a couple massive hugs to whoever on the production crew was like 'hey! you know what could be kinda fun...?"

And then we get this shot? Another beautiful reflection, standing together but in two states of mind. King aware of his feelings for Uea and Uea's feelings for him, but Uea unaware that King reciprocates, still knowing there is something that needs to be fixed between them.

King comes here to tell Uea that he wants him to understand, and before King can make his confession Uea interrupts him to apologize for being rude to him and King does not accept an apology, because Uea has done nothing wrong, and not only does King not accept an apology from Uea, he tells him that he isn't mad at Uea and tells Uea that he himself was being jealous and possessive.

And honestly, do I think that King should have apologized here? Yes, but I'll accept this because he's able to name the emotions he was feeling that led to the behavior he exhibited. And then finally he confesses! "Uea, I like you!"

And honestly this show should have been called Tale of A Thousand Stars Reflecting Off Net's Eyes.

And I was SO HAPPY because FINALLY THEY CAN GET ON THE SAME PAGE, only to feel the gut punch of Uea's "Do my feelings matter?' immediately afterward because this has been the core conflict they haven't been able to voice. Uea's feelings have never mattered in almost all of the relationships he has with other people. His feelings never mattered to Pock, his feelings never mattered to Krit, his feelings never mattered to his step-dad, and his feelings certainly never mattered to his mother. Even with his sister, she's frequently used as a tool to get him to do things he doesn't want to do, and she's able to stand at Uea's side in a family argument, but she still allows her brother to compromise his feelings for her.

When Uea and King were in their uncomplicated phase of the FWB, Uea could start to believe that his feelings did matter. King listened when Uea told him to stop, King followed Uea's rules, King didn't use his bet to make Uea engage in pet play. And unfortunately, Uea only started to let his feelings matter to him when King asked him on a beach trip. He let himself be excited by that, and hopeful for that, only to have King cancel on him for a blind date.

King has made some dumbass fucking moves in the last couple episodes, but the smartest move he ever made was taking care of all the loose ends he was aware of before he went chasing after Uea. He resolves all of the conflicts that he knew about before trying to get Uea to come back to a hostile workplace where his relationship to King wouldn't feel secure if he had to still go on these arranged matches.

And King brings up the bet, and because I was kinda hoping earlier in the week for more of a blow out, or confrontation, I was really hoping that King would invoke the bet to make Uea stay and listen to him explain, but I love what they did with it here.

King asks Uea for a chance to make a move.

Not for Uea to be his boyfriend, not for Uea to forgive him, not for Uea to do anything but allow him to try to hit on Uea. Allow King a chance to date Uea.

And I honestly think Uea is surprised by this request as well. Because his feelings have so rarely mattered to the people around him, that I think it is still, even when King has been notoriously good about consent and embracing Uea's feelings, that it is a genuine shock that King isn't going for something massive with this bet. Just asking for a chance.

Oh poor "Are you sure?" Uea. Baby boy, I understand that it is hard to believe that someone would genuinely love and care for you, and I know that it is difficult to break through years of internalized homophobia that has been beaten in to you, But sure you haven't been completely blind to how much of a simp King is for you.

Side note: Kicking and screaming because King told Uea that he's never felt this way about anyone the way he feels with Uea.

This is getting long and my only thoughts on the rest of Lampang is "holy fucking shit they are so cute and finally they just get to be together aware of their mutual feelings, yeehaw!" so I'm cutting to when they return because....

KING FINALLY GETS TO TELL EVERYONE! And he's so fucking happy about it Jesus Christ, this dude. They are about to be disgustingly in love in the office the second that No Touching rule is revoked. And I love that we can tell Uea is getting more comfortable with all of this because, well one, he lets King say this, but two...

He's trying so hard not to be too obviously happy about this.

And yay! We get Uea's work family all together celebrating this queer relationship (because almost all of the people here are queer too) AND we get pink as a color in this scene because this is a loving home for Uea too.

fuck YES GET THAT BOY SOME THERAPY!!!!! I am so pleasantly surprised by the inclusion of therapy as important and necessary both in Bed Friend and in The Eighth Sense. Let's get my boy processing his trauma with a trained professional. I think it was @waitmyturtles who was hesitant this show because she wasn't sure if it was going to be a "Lover Waltzed Into My Life and Suddenly All My Trauma is Gone" type of story. I hope this is relieving to you that regardless of all of the postive changes King has actively made to Uea's life through getting Krit fired, and encouraging Uea to seek justice for his step-dad, that Uea is also being aided by Jade, therapy, and medication for his mental health.

King, careful, you're gonna be the next one getting a talking to by your boss for not getting your work done if you keep spending all of your time in the office hanging around Uea.

BUT ALSO!!! I mentioned in my Uea costume post for Episode 7 that King favors Uea's left side because he knows that Uea does not react well to people hanging around his right side.

So I just wanted to take a second to acknowledge the 1000/10 parallel here.

And speaking of comfortable, I do not think you understand how ecstatic I was to see Uea be like...genuinely comfortable and confident in himself. To just response to King's "Why are you sitting here?"question with "because I'm beautiful," FUCK YEAH YOU ARE, UEA. You bare beautiful and you do deserve to put yourself up on a pedestal so everyone around you can admire your beauty. #selflove

Side note: This is a great shot and King is so in love with Uea, and they make a truly believable couple so shout out to Net and James for the work they put in here. Especially when King spends the night at Uea's apartment and he's trying so hard to restrain himself and Uea is teasing him.

I know this is kind of a weird screenshot to put in here, but I don't have a gif of it, and I just really love how couple-y it feels for Uea to literally like spin himself over King to leave his bed to take his meds. It feels fun, and it feels comfortable. Uea is happy to crawl over his boyfriend to leave his bed. And shout out to Net for horny bastard rights on King's part cause King literally tracks Uea's every move from the second he dodges the kiss until he gets out of bed.

King fulfills his role as the doting and worried boyfriend, which is probably the sexiest thing anyone can do lets be real.

FINALLY IT'S TIME!!! The conversation that needed to be happening a long long time ago. And like, do not get me wrong, Uea is under no obligation to tell anyone any of this information, but without knowledge of Uea's history, King got himself in to a lot more hot water because he has no foundation of understanding for how and why Uea operates the way that he does. When I first saw this scene I think some of the English translation didn't go over the way it was supposed to and I really thought that King had fumbled the ball, but looking back through it the second time, I am interpreting his words a bit differently, and understanding what I think King was trying to get at. Mostly that if Uea is comfortable and trusts King enough to share this information about his step-dad with him there might be a solution to take care of whatever the problem is.

But honestly, I care more about the way King is hold Uea's hands here than I do about what the translation is saying, and above all I care more about

The honest conversation about mental health that is happening in this show. As much as I have really embraced and honestly find the like green tea ads in every BL to be endearing and like a staple of the genre at this point, I have a major appreciation and love for the shows that take the time to give the public health public service announcements. The Warp Effect, which I honestly can't remember having any actual product ads, for example spent most of their typically allotted in-universe ad space to talk about getting the HPV vaccine and the steps of a pelvic exam. KinnPorsche has a 20 minute video discussing queerness in Thailand and what is and is not appropriate to say. Bed Friend spent time in episode 2 showing the steps of getting an STI blood test done and now are talking about mental health and taking medications to treat it.

Listen, I'm a simple bitch, and simple bitches love when the pretenses fall away and the rules no longer apply because this is an extremely important and serious matter and King and Uea both know that he needs these comforting touches, and King doesn't have to ask permission to ground Uea with touch here.

And see! This is what I was talking about in my Uea and Red post, I love this color red on Uea. This feels like a real, legitimate, accurate red for Uea to be in, compared to the bright red that he is shown in near the beginning of the show. I never doubted that Uea was a red rascal, I just...feel like the bright red is a fake red, is a lie. Here, when he is being his most honest with King. When he is sharing information about himself that he had intended never to share with anyone, he isn't in the bright anxiety red, he is in this deeper red.

And listen, Respect The Petty, no one wants to agree with you more than me that King is a Blue Boy, but after this episode I am willing to concede that he is two-toned, specifically because of this outfit and this outfit only:

Black hoodie with a FUCKING RED ROSE OVER THE HEART like come ON! King wears so little red in this show so far. He wore red and black in Episode 4 for the beach trip, and since then has been sitting on a little red pillow on his chair in the office, but otherwise, this outfit?????? King carrying Uea with him in his heart everywhere????? AND THE YELLOW FLOWERS IN THE BACKGROUND??????????

And again, the English translation had me reeling for a second when King was like "For the thing you told me last night, I don't feel okay about it," before he was like "can I do something to your step-dad" and then I was very "casually threw aside a large rock" about it.

And I love that King does seek permission here to go through with consequences for #pransdaddarktimelineedition because something I did find very interesting in this episode was the possibility for a moral quandry about outing Uea as a victim in Krit's harassment to the entire office without Uea's knowledge or consent and how that could possibly have ended poorly for King's relationship to Uea. But, King is a man of action, and he will find solutions where he can, and will not sleep comfortably knowing that someone who has hurt Uea is existing without consequences and possibly capable of hurting other people. But Uea is here this time and this is Uea's history and Uea's trauma so he asks because Uea's feelings are the most important thing to King.

Uea back in blue and that blue matching the same blue-green tone of King’s shirt with the lettering on his sweater.

Ok that is mostly my thoughts on this episode, I might just turn right back around and watch it for a third time because fuck it, I have COVID, and I have laundry to fold. We ball.

Can't wait to tune in next week to watch Uea's Step-Dad get his comeuppance. Hope those charges stick. Don't love that we are seeing yet another person trying to get with Uea and threatening the relationship between Uea and King, but I really hope that is swept aside quickly and we get most of this episode and episode 10 of them just being disgustingly in love because I JUST! WANT! UEA! TO! BE! HAPPY! THAT'S ALL I'M FUCKING ASKING FOR!

If you read this whole thing you're my best friend now, sorry I don't make the rules, this is just so long for no reason. But I will not do multi-part posts unless I literally run out of image space. K, byeeeeeeeee

#bed friend #bed friend the series #ueaking #kinguea #king x uea #uea x king #netjames #jamesnet #net siraphop #james supamongkon #domundi #bed friend analysis #bed friend stray thoughts #bed friend episode 8 #bed friend ep 8 #it was write one beast or make like four separate post and i did not want to do that #i would apologize for constantly writing novels on this website but im not actually sorry so

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l1teraryangel · 4 months

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In Another Life (Ch. 15)

“You can’t be so hard on them, Malik.”

Puffing his cheeks, Malik dug his lavender eyes into his sister’s azure ones. “They’re being ridiculous! And unhelpful!”

“They’re hurting and frustrated by the repeated struggle to deliver Ryou’s soul back into his body.” She tucked her jet black hair behind her ears, unwavering in her serene exterior. “Not unlike you, I’m sure.”

Kek, seated beside Rishid, quipped, “Ooh, she called you out, Albi.”

“Shut up, both of you,” Malik returned and shoved the borrowed KaibaCorp tablet away. “I don’t need an analysis. Yes, I’m freaked out and worried. But I’m still trying to do something, aren’t I?”

Tenderly touching her brother’s hand, Isis smiled. “You’ve always been one to act on your grief as opposed to sitting around wallowing. I think, however, Bakura and Touzoku-Ou are simply overwhelmed by their own emotions. This is the first true struggle they’ve faced since being reborn, and the fact that it involves the one they love most must make it much harder to handle.”

“So you’re saying I’m being a self-centered dick to them instead of empathizing?”

Her smile slipped into a pouty frown. “I would not phrase it in such a way, though I suppose my meaning is similar in nature.”

Sniggering, Kek muttered, “Leave it Big Sis to put you in your place with eloquence.” Rishid chuckled, too, but he buried his face among the pages of his book to hide his half-smirk.

With an audible exhale, Malik rapped his fingertips on the table, staring at the doorway leading out of Kaiba’s library. “Ugh, fine… I’ll go and apologize to them… Give me like ten minutes to compose a script, or I’ll ramble like a fool. Bakura would blackmail me for years to come.”

“Work on it elsewhere, Malik. You’re taking up space otherwise.”

Dumbstruck, Malik blinked and studied his sister’s stony expression. “A-Are you kicking me out?” A thought popped into his head. “Oh, is it because of Kek? Afraid we’ll be too distracting together?”

Clicking his tongue, Kek ripped a page from a spiral notebook, crumpled it, and promptly launched it at Isis’s head. “Ruuuuude.”

Without a single crack in her mask, Isis replied, “Does that answer your question, Brother?”

“I see your point. Kek, make sure to actually help out, okay? Listen to our sister.”

“You know, when you say things like that, it makes our relationship seem like incest.” Kek’s signature crazed grin spread ear-to-ear. “Kinda weird, but I can dig it.”

Gathering a spare notebook and his phone, Malik turned and waved while walking to the door. “Good luck, Sis. He’s your problem.”

He heard a distinct protest from his other self’s mouth, but the door to the library closed in time to prevent further retaliation. His eyes flitted between the end of the hall and the room where Ryou’s unconscious body and the two other-realmers waited.

“...Hurry home, Ryou…”

***

“Oh, shit…” Ryou muttered and jumped out of the bed. “Okay, don’t panic… They’re on their way, but they’re just college boys. Human. Sane. Maybe a bit horny, but not threatening.”

He knew there wouldn’t be a lot of time — how big could a college campus be? Inhaling to steady himself, he thought over the possible excuses he could use to get out of sex this time. Sick, no, tired! Too tired from his exams, could they just hang out or something…

‘That will work. Hopefully it’s a simple but convincing enough way to cool their hormones.’ Ryou puffed his breath up his forehead, disturbing his bangs, and eyed the door anxiously. ‘Okay, so when they get here, I’ll keep cool and lay low—’

Three short knocks on the door followed by some clicks that sounded suspiciously like a lock being picked brought him out of his thoughts.

“I hope he’s asleep. He’s too adorable, all curled up under the blankets, snuggling his pillow like a kitten.” There was Touzoku-Ou, or TK, as he went by here.

“Mm, I wouldn’t mind watching him sleep for a while, but I really would rather ravish him.” And Bakura, naturally, with him.

“Dibs on topping him, by the way.”

“Pfft, whatever. I’ll top you, then.”

“Think you can handle that?”

“Wanna try me?”

The lock clicked, and Ryou launched himself back onto the bed. Thankfully, due to his abrupt entry into this world, he looked plenty disheveled to play the role of having only woken up mere moments ago. He rubbed at his eyes for a convincing touch when the door swung open and revealed this realm’s Bakura and Touzoku-Ou.

“Ah, damn, he is awake,” TK whined, deflating with disappointment. “I mean, happy to see you, lovely. Just wanted to watch you sleep.”

Bakura snorted. “More like you wanted to wake him up like some perverse Sleeping Beauty.”

His accusation, rather than offending the dark-skinned man, brought a smug grin to his lips instead. “Tattletale. Well, whatever.” He hopped onto the bed without further to do, practically straddling Ryou, who in turn pushed himself upright to maintain some control of the situation. “Good morning, my beauty!”

“Not like you to sleep so late, Babe,” Bakura added and plopped down beside them. “Exams that rough?”

Ryou opened his mouth to answer, but TK cut him off. “Ryou doesn’t struggle with exams. Unlike you, he’s actually smart.”

“You’re calling me dumb, but last I checked, he tutored you, too,” Bakura bit back and shoved the other’s shoulder.

“I only needed a bit of help catching up with the curriculum. You’re the one who was too stupid to pass your classes on your own.”

“Are you picking a fight right now, asshole?”

As their argument escalated alongside their physical altercation, Ryou dumbly glanced between them. ‘A-Are they going to let me talk? More importantly, are they going to get blood on this bed? It’s such a pain to get out of sheets.’

Just when he thought TK looked as if he may strike Bakura, the two’s argument broke down into a shared chuckle. Blinking, expression confused and blank, Ryou asked, “Are you guys good now?”

Bakura’s crooked smirk and heated gaze set his heart fluttering. “Of course, Babe. Sorry, were we disturbing you?”

“Um…”

TK, smirking just as mischievously, edged closer until he and Ryou were only a breath away from one another. “Say it isn’t so, lovely Ryou.”

“I… I mean, it’s fine…”

Each of their gazes twinkled, their nearly identical expressions growing more and more fervent. A knot bobbed in Ryou’s throat, in sync with the blood surging to his loins.

“We would hate so much to be a bother,” Bakura crooned, now shoulder to shoulder with TK as he leaned over Ryou’s trapped form. “But, since exams are officially over for a bit, don’t you think we should celebrate?”

Determined to maintain control, Ryou gulped down the lump in his throat and instead offered the smallest, shyest smile he could. “Maybe we could go out for lunch?”

Their expressions split halfway between tickled and disheartened. In particular, TK seemed pouty while he mumbled, “That wasn’t what we meant, little lovely.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Ryou pushed both men back, gentle but firm. “I realize what you mean, but I’m not… quite feeling myself today.” He snuck a glance at their faces from beneath the messy bangs framing his eyes. As expected, the desire evaporated, replaced with concern.

“I told you you were pushing yourself too hard, Ryou,” Bakura chided, voice like a mother scolding their naughty child. “I bet you caught a cold or something.”

“Well, don’t yell at him for it,” TK snapped and slapped Bakura’s reaching hand away. He used his own to cup Ryou’s cheek.

Snarling, Bakura cupped Ryou’s other cheek. “I was not yelling, thank you very much, asshole.”

The urge to be pampered and fussed over nearly overtook Ryou, but he bit his lip and swallowed it down much like his earlier arousal. “G-Guys, I’m not sick, per se. Just not feeling up to… much right now.”

His words brought two shockingly stern scowls down upon him, and TK tutted, “Nuh uh, we aren’t falling for that again. Last time you said you weren’t sick, you ended up in the hospital for a week. You’re going to the doctor right now.”

‘...Gods dammit… So much for keeping a low profile.’

***

Other Ryou paused when he walked into the room where his fellow other-realmers sat bored and captive. He expected, or hoped, to see the better version of Bakura and Touzoku-Ou, but instead Yugi and Atem greeted him.

“Hey, Ryou. Everything okay?”

“Oh, uh, I mean… It’s as good as it can be for all of us, right?”

Yugi sighed. “True. What a chaotic morning.”

Frowning and stepping closer, Ryou tentatively asked, “Did something happen?”

“Those two thieves, like the idiots they are, nearly destroyed their room. And almost killed themselves in the process,” Atem muttered, shaking his head. His lighter half patted his shoulder soothingly. Neither seemed to notice the way Ryou’s face paled.

Crossing his arms to hug himself, the white-haired male whispered, “A-Are they okay?”

Yugi flashed him a smile. “Yeah, they’re fine, at least physically. Probably worn out and super stressed, I imagine, but no damage done.”

Before Ryou could express his relief, his own Bakura and Touzoku-Ou snorted, and the latter specifically sneered in Ryou’s direction. “Don’t forget who they are so worried about, little mouse.”

Bakura chuckled. “Certainly not our rabbit, if memory serves.”

A snarky response bubbled up in his throat, but Ryou thankfully managed to hold it back, reminding himself that reacting to their taunts was exactly what they wanted. He pointedly turned away from them and focused on Yugi. “I heard a racket earlier. That was them, then?”

“Correct,” Atem sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Exasperation twisted his features. “Ryou managed to make contact, but when the three of them tried pulling him through… Apparently something is blocking our Ryou from returning to this world, to his body.”

“That’s possible?” Other Ryou asked, but then he laughed. “Of course it is. That was a dumb question, all things considered.” He stretched his arms behind his back, nonchalantly eyeing the door to the hallway. “Well, I’m sure you guys have everything handled… I’ll go find some way to entertain myself.”

From where he rubbed the stressed pharaoh’s shoulder, Yugi again smiled at the other male. “Go on and relax while you’re here. This is our problem, so we should be the ones stressing over it. You can just enjoy Kaiba Mansion.”

“Appreciate that, Yugi,” Ryou replied, already enroute to the hall. “I’ll stay out of the way, so you guys do your magic thing.” He pulled the door shut behind him, a small grin on his lips. He couldn’t replace the Ryou of this world, but maybe he could enjoy his time as a substitute.

From the day he became the prey of his world’s Bakura and Touzoku-Ou, it drove him mad how attractive he found them behind their deranged personalities and cruelty. He hadn’t been lying when he told his pair of predators he could fall in love with the Bakura and Touzoku-Ou of this realm. Perhaps he’d feel different if he experienced the history their Ryou had with them, but then again, perhaps not. After all, despite that very history, hadn’t his other self fallen in love with them all the same?

Eyes sparkling with impishness, he moved to walk down the hall, only to literally ram into Malik. “Whoa, sorry!”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry,” Malik groaned, one hand rubbing the spot of his face that collided with Ryou and the other gripping a tattered piece of paper. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Without further explanation, the blonde slipped past the other-realmer and into the room behind. Other Ryou tilted his head, curious, yet he felt no inclination to pry. Far more interesting and exciting things held his interest.

Once in front of the room housing his other self’s lovers, he peered through the crack of the doorway. His vision adjusted to the dimness of the unlit, curtained room, and there he found them, their bodies splayed in the center, unmoving. A part of him wondered if they were asleep or simply contemplating.

Quietly, he slipped in, closing the door behind him as he pondered how he should approach the situation. They certainly must be depressed over the morning’s events — they might not appreciate his company, much less any flirtations he had in mind.

His chance to greet them came to a close as Bakura’s voice called out, “Need something, little one?”

Moving closer, Ryou realized neither man’s eyes were open, yet they seemed perfectly aware of his presence. “How’d you know I was here?”

“You aren’t exactly a ninja,” Touzoku-Ou murmured, voice humored despite his evident exhaustion.

“I wasn’t being loud,” He argued back with a pout. “It’s not like I slammed the door behind me or something.”

Bakura chuckled and cracked open one eye to peer at Ryou. “You are talking to the King of Thieves. Our life depended on the ability to be aware of our surroundings.”

Touzoku-Ou turned his head, both eyes half-lidded as he met Other Ryou’s gaze. “We’re not going to be good company right now, you know. It was a rough morning.”

“I heard.”

His response earned a bark of laughter from both men, and they each sat up with clear difficulty, leaning on each other. Bakura, rubbing his face, muttered to no one in particular, “Of course you have. Let’s advertise our failure to the whole country while we’re at it.”

Frowning, Ryou dropped to his knees beside them. “Don’t be like that. There was some other… thing interfering, right? That’s what Yugi said… It’s not your fault.”

While pushing himself off of Bakura, wincing, Touzoku-Ou snorted. “You don’t need to comfort us, little one. Nothing you say will make us feel better. Not when Rohi is out there somewhere, alone and in who knows what level of danger.”

As he moved his own worn down body, Bakura grimaced, too. “The effort is appreciated, nonetheless, but you should be using this time to enjoy your freedom. Not babysit us.”

Twirling a strand of his silver hair, Other Ryou attempted his best flirty tone. “Maybe the way I want to enjoy my freedom is by babysitting you, though.”

They eyed him, equal parts surprised and amused. Touzoku-Ou laughed under his breath. “Shouldn’t you be sick of our faces by now?”

“It’s not the same when it’s you instead of them.”

A sneer tugged Bakura’s lips upwards. “Well, obviously. We are far superior.” His expression faltered, seriousness taking over. “But you should still not get so… attached. At the end of the day, the men of your world who bear our faces will only cause you pain.”

“I’m not a child, Bakura,” Ryou snapped, harsher than he meant. He definitely caught the other two men off guard, but he couldn’t force his tone to soften the edge his annoyance snuck in. He knew the difference between them and, well, them. It burned his mind, taunted, mocked. What he wouldn’t give to be able to call this pair of men his instead of those demented bastards.

Brow furrowed, he continued, “And I am not an idiot. Your shared faces don’t blur your identities in my eyes. So, please, don’t try and lecture me.”

The two thieves looked him over, almost as if they were searching for something. Finally, after a moment of heavy silence, Touzoku-Ou spoke. “We need to pick up some things from our apartment. Why don’t you tag along, put some distance between you and them, enjoy this version of Domino?”

Relieved, Ryou nodded, his mouth melting back into a benign smile. “Yes, I’d like that.”

The men gathered themselves and headed out, Bakura shooting a quick text to the group so no one scolded them for vanishing. Other Ryou lingered only a few steps behind Bakura and Touzoku-Ou, observing them as much as the environment around him.

“It’s strange how similar my Domino City and yours are,” He commented for the sake of conversation. “Mine feels almost like a dystopia to yours. Like… It’s run down, kinda sketchy, y’know?”

“We’re still in the upper city, though I’ll be curious to know if the location of your apartment lines up with ours,” Bakura replied, hands stuffed into his pockets, gaze focused straight ahead. There was an aloofness in the way he presented, like he still wanted to insist on a certain distance between him, Touzoku-Ou, and this Ryou from another realm. But, of course, having such a minimal reference for normal behavior, Ryou failed to detect the withdrawn mannerisms.

For his part, Touzoku-Ou attempted to mimic Bakura’s demeanor, but he betrayed himself by flicking his eyes back to his boyfriend’s doppelganger. Ryou smiled brightly each time they made eye contact, and the thief king finally sighed.

“...Bakura’s right, Ryou. Even if you understand we are different from them, you still shouldn’t get attached to us.”

The other-realmer narrowed his eyes and scoffed. “Why? What does it matter?”

“Because,” Bakura halted, whirling to face the other male, “you can’t stay here. Eventually you have to go back to your realm.”

The truth bit him, but his eyes rolled instinctively. “I’m aware, you two. I’m not going to throw a tantrum over it just because I like your company. If anything, it seems like you two are the ones more concerned about being attached.”

Touzoku-Ou sighed again, eyes clouding with an emotion Ryou couldn’t place. “It’s painful, seeing your face and hearing your voice. You’re identical to our Ryou in almost every way. But you aren’t him.”

Despite his efforts, Ryou felt his temper flare. “Then why invite me along with you, if I’m such unpleasant company? I would have stayed at the mansion.”

Both thieves shook their heads, and Bakura answered, “Because you wanted to spend time with us, and you deserve to be able to have things your way for once.” Pause. “And he said you were painful company, not unpleasant. We can enjoy hanging around you and find it difficult at the same time.”

“I don’t need your pity, though. And I don’t want to be a nuisance when I’m already an uninvited guest in this realm,” Ryou mumbled and shuffled his feet, avoiding eye contact as his temper faltered into guilt. “If you want me to leave you alone, all you have to do is say so.”

A hand clamped down on his head, and he peeked up at Touzoku-Ou. Sadness. The emotion glazing over his eyes was a wistful sadness. But there was warmth, too.

“We wouldn’t ask that of you. While you’re here, do what you want to, Ryou. Whatever you want to.”

Relenting, Bakura patted the brown-eyed boy’s shoulder. “You’re a free man. They won’t touch you while all of us are around.”

“Free, huh?” The word sounded foreign. “Free to do whatever I want?”

Though they nodded, Ryou couldn’t be totally comforted by the words. Because he knew all too well they weren’t entirely truthful. He was free to do anything he wanted.

Except stay.

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

AO3 Link: In Another Life - Chapter 15 - LiteraryAngel - Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga) [Archive of Our Own]

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#yugioh #ygo #ryou bakura #thief king bakura #yami bakura #tendershipping #gemshipping #geminishipping #malik ishtar #marik ishtar #yami malik #yami marik #yugi mutou #yami yugi #pharaoh atem #my writing

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melis-writes · 6 months

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what's your take on michael and kay's relationship in the films? do you think michael actually loved her?

Absolutely, I do!! I've done so much research and analysis on them both in film and the book because I'm obsessed with them as a couple LMAO. I've written straight up essays on here. You can find them here, here, here, and here.

To sum up the most important parts from all of them to prove my point:

Michael also makes this clear to Kay after he becomes Don too. Michael reminded Kay countless times throughout the book that he wanted to marry her, that he wanted to slowly be transparent to her about the nature of his family first. He really worked on building the love and trust in his relationship with Kay because he believed in having a future and a family with her, with or without the family business.

Michael even thought about changing his last name (seriously) for the sake of Kay’s reputation.

Michael said gently, “Will your parents approve of me?” Kay shrugged, “I don’t care,” she said. Michael said, “I even thought of changing my name, legally.”

Kay came in after him and put her arms around his waist from behind. “When are we going to get married?” She asked. “Whenever you say.” Michael said.

Mind you, Michael is not in any way desperate to marry Kay or in an urgent need to. This is all solely built on the trust, affection, and bond they have in their relationship together. He mentions marriage a lot more to her than she does to him.

When Michael had returned home from Sicily, he told Kay that she was the only one he was ever “in love” with:

[Kay:] “Why do you want me to marry you after never calling me all these months?” [Michael:] “You are the only person I felt any affection for, that I care about. I didn’t call you because it never occurred to me that you’d still be interested in me after everything that’s happened. […] I want you and I want a family.” “You know, when I came home I wasn’t that glad when I saw my family, my father, my mother, my sister Connie, and Tom. It was nice but I didn’t really give a damn. Then I came home tonight and saw you in the kitchen and I was glad. Is that what you mean by love?”

He put his arms around her and kissed her gently on the lips. Her mouth was sweet and he gently pulled her down on the bed. She closed her eyes, waiting for him to make love to her and Michael felt an enormous happiness. He had spent the war years fighting in the Pacific, and on those bloody islands he had dreamed of a girl like Kay Adams. Of a beauty like hers. She opened her eyes and hen pulled his head down to kiss him. They made love until it was time for dinner and the theater.

Michael refused to listen to anyone else asked/told Michael he should get surgery done for the bits of broken bone in his face due to McClusky breaking his jaw, even 2 years after the injury healed on the outside of his cheek. Kay was the exception to this of course! Michael wanted Kay’s opinion, and subsequently “got his face fixed”:

She knew that Michael had done it against all his own inclinations. Had done it because she has asked him to, and that she was the only person in the world who could make him act against his own nature.

And lets not forget when he said...

“You were all that I loved and valued most in the world and now I’m losing you…I’ve lost you anyway; You’re gone and it was all for nothing. You need to understand that I had a whole different destiny planned for us.”

And keeping in mind these following points:

Michael could have remarried any time after his divorce from Kay and had more children/a second son.

Michael wore his wedding ring for another 10+ years.

Michael was still trying to win Kay, apologize to her, get close to her in TGF3.

Michael moved onto Kay barely a year after Apollonia’s death.

Michael referred to Kay as “his wife” even after she remarried.

Yes, in full truth I do believe Michael loved Kay. I believe he cared for her deeply and was in love with her to the fullest extent. Their relationship and romance as a whole is so much better fleshed out in the book than the film but of course Michael is also essentially two different people when you compare him to how he was in the novel versus the film. I get why he's portrayed differently, but it's so easy to gloss over the truth of him and Kay if you don't actually sit to think about what they had and what Michael held together for their future together. ❤️

#ap*llonia stans cope #michael corleone #kay adams #the godfather

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cyclone-rachel · 1 year

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Tomorrowverse Karadox playlist analysis part 1:

C’mon (Panic at the Disco feat. Fun.):

What would my head be like

If not for my shoulders

Or without your smile

May it follow you forever

May it never leave you

To sleep in the stone,

May we stay lost on our way home

C'mon, c'mon, with everything falling down around me

I'd like to believe in all the possibilities

If I should die tonight

May I first just say I'm sorry?

For I never felt like anybody

I am a man of many hats

Although I never mastered anything

I like to consider this a classic Karadox song, thanks to an AMV that used this one with Melissa and Jesse’s versions of Kara and Brainy, and thankfully it fits Tomorrowverse Karadox really well too! Especially this part, I like to think it’s the tense part of the movie where Brainy is accused of being like the rest of his family and he apologizes to Kara and tells her how he really feels about her, as Mon-El reveals himself to be evil and it looks like the Brainiacs are going to take control of the Miracle Machine. I just love this song in general, and it’s always a Karadox song for me.

Salt and Vinegar (Lights):

But there I go again lighting you up

I keep filling my cup

You'd think I'd had enough

There you go again bringing me down

But still I stick around

I kinda like it now

You're angry, I'm bitter

You and me make a dangerous mixture

Summoned the devil now we can't get rid of her

We go together like salt and vinegar

So this is a song I’ve started listening to more recently, I first heard it in a Tiktok and I think it would work well for any enemies to lovers style relationship. But it really does fit early Karadox here, when they’re competing against each other and going back and forth on everything, and you kind of get the vibe that they enjoy the fighting and the rivalry.

In Space (Ludo):

Counting moon rocks for the cause, just me in a little pod

I can't wait for gravity to bring you close to me

I hope this message finds you and you won't feel so alone

Even if I never make it home

In space (the tiles are burning, all the time we had)

All I think about is you and me (goes rushing past my window view.)

And atmosphere

In space (through the flames, I keep a steady hand)

Your picture's all I look at, my place (my eyes are clear, my aim is true.)

Is with you below, watching leaves change in the yard

Dreaming of the stars

I can't wait for gravity to bring me home

Oh man this is 100 percent the last part of the movie, where Kara is confronted with the Miracle Machine, and she talks to her mother for a minute before she and Brainy send the machine to another universe and she turns around and sees the real Brainy standing behind her. Also of course the mention of the pod, Krypton exploding and Kara being sent off alone vibes, etc.

Sucker (Jonas Brothers):

I'm a sucker for you

You say the word and I'll go anywhere blindly

I'm a sucker for you, yeah

Any road you take, you know that you'll find me

I'm a sucker for all the subliminal things

No one knows about you (About you), about you (About you)

And you're makin' the typical me break my typical rules

It's true, I'm a sucker for you, yeah

So I did see someone made an AMV that included this version of Kara and Brainy with this song, and I think it works! I think in any universe, Brainy falls for Kara, and that’s just true facts.

Love From the Other Side (Fall Out Boy):

This city always hangs a little bit lonely on me

Loose

Like a kid playing pretend in his father's suit

I'd never go, I just want to be invited

Got to give up

Get the feeling

Don't fight it

Fight it

Sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse

And I just about snapped, don't look back

Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

Another song I’ve really enjoyed recently, I just think it kind of has Brainy vibes? Like generally fits his perspective and how he feels about himself. This is more about vibes than anything, but again the “apocalypse” part suits the end of the movie, and the “every lover” line works for this version of Kara and Brainy.

Blow Your Mind (Dua Lipa):

If you don't like the way I talk, then why am I on your mind?

If you don't like the way I rock, then finish your glass of wine

We fight and we argue, you'll still love me blind

If we don't fuck this whole thing up

Guaranteed, I can blow your mind

Mwah!

And tonight I'm alive, ain't no dollar sign

Guaranteed, I can blow your mind, mwah

And tonight I'm alive, ain't no dollar sign

Guaranteed, I can blow your mind, mwah

This one is definitely Kara’s point of view for me, again I heard this one in a Tiktok and I think it fits for her perspective in the earlier parts of the movie and how she wants to prove herself to Brainy and do better at him than everything, and them being antagonistic towards each other.

Might Not Like Me (Brynn Elliott):

Get over yourself, it's no big deal

If I run a little faster than you on the playground

Get over yourself, what's your problem

What's your problem?

Well if you don't like girls that are stronger than you

And if you don't like girls that are faster than you

And if you don't like girls that are smarter than you

Well then you might not like me

You might not like me

So this one doesn’t quite fit because it’s more of a break-up song, but I do think it’s the vibe again with Kara and Brainy at the beginning, from Kara’s perspective and how she would think about/talk to Brainy.

Parachute (Kirby Krackle):

A long night, a cold sweat

You were the one. I didn't know it yet

A simple love, the only thing we want

The only thing, the thing we'll never get

I was missing beats, and you were like a tempo discovered

Running towards the blast when I was needing fix and repair

You said

I'll be your parachute

So let your heart go

When you see ground rushing up at you

And when your feet touch down

That's when your heart knows

I'll always be there catching you

Another classic Karadox song that I also associate with Melissa and Jesse’s versions of Kara and Brainy, this one definitely fits the middle to end parts of the movie when Brainy is accused of murdering one of Triplicate Girl’s selves and Kara defends him/tells him that she believes him when everyone else thinks he’s lying, and from then on they start to really support one another and it’s just the best. I love this song and it’s pitch-perfect Karadox, bye.

Scapegoat (Ghost and Pals):

Now do you hate me?

Are you afraid of me?

Are you able to feel culpability?

Come forth and kill me

Bow down and worship me

Take your time, all we have is eternity

Now with a new start

Broken and torn apart

Nothing in me resembles a human heart

My name is unknown

Something I've never told

On my own, I declare

"I don't wanna go home"

Another song I’ve listened to a lot recently, I just think it’s a bop and that it could fit Brainy a lot in this movie, again when people see him as a villain because they think he’s like his family.

Afterglow (Taylor Swift):

I blew things out of proportion, now you're blue

Put you in jail for something you didn't do

I pinned your hands behind your back, oh

Thought I had reason to attack, but no

Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves

Chemistry 'til it blows up, 'til there's no us

Why'd I have to break what I love so much?

It's on your face, and I'm to blame, I need to say

Hey, it's all me, in my head

I'm the one who burned us down

But it's not what I meant

Sorry that I hurt you

I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you (Ooh)

I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you (Ooh)

I need to say, hey, it's all me, just don't go

Meet me in the afterglow

Okay, so this one was suggested by my friend Rosie, and it’s actually so perfect? Like I’m more of a casual Swiftie than anything, I do like several of her songs, but haven’t listened to all of her albums all the way through. However, this one fits so exactly well from Kara’s point of view, and her perspective on Brainy when he gets blamed for something he didn’t do, and maybe her realizing how she really feels about him in the process.

Hit Like a Girl (Meet Me @ the Altar)

I'm tough

I'll save the world and won't even break a sweat

No bluff

I'm witty, yeah I know how to use my head

Said I'm too loud

I should sit down

No, I've got a lot to say

So what

I'm rowdy, yeah I hit like a girl

Hit like a girl!

Got things to do

I'm making moves

And so are you, I know it

You got it girl

This is your world

I'll be right there supporting

Count on me

I'll count on you to be my solace

Just take my hand

Now is the chance

Now is our chance

This one was in one of my friend Brandi’s Tiktoks, and it’s another really good Kara song! Especially at the beginning of the movie, before she goes to the future to train with the Legion, and leading into her relationship with Brainy and how they support each other.

Stay With Me (Better Love):

You shine like the sun

And I want to go blind

You ring in my head

Like a song I can't forget

If you're thinking of me then let me know

I can think of a thousand different places we should go

Oh, I know I just met you

But you're clouding all my dreams

Go on and set me free

I wanna see you tomorrow

Are you thinking of me?

Again, from one of Brandi’s Tiktoks, this one strikes me as another “Brainy falls for Kara instantly” kind of song, with her coming in and disrupting all of his plans and everything, and maybe that’s okay. I always love when I find songs with sun imagery to connect to Kara because Kryptonians are powered by the sun/Rao/etc., it just works perfectly. Also I like that the word “tomorrow” is in this song because this movie is a part of the Tomorrowverse, y’know.

When I Kissed the Teacher (ABBA):

Leaning over me,

He was trying to explain

The laws of geometry

And I couldn't help it,

I just had to kiss the teacher

One of these days

Gonna tell him I dream of him every night

One of these days

Gonna show him I care,

Gonna teach him a lesson alright

Another song suggested by Brandi and I think one that came from their Tiktok, I just like to imagine Brainy and Kara after they get together actually kissing in front of the Legion and them partially expecting it but also having no idea what to think because they were just at each other’s throats. Also this does fit that montage towards the beginning of the movie where they were competing, and Kara wanting to “teach him a lesson” in that sense.

Lay All Your Love On Me (ABBA)

'Cause everything is new

And everything is you

And all I've learned

Has overturned

What can I do?

Don't go wasting your emotion

Lay all your love on me

Don't go sharing your devotion

Lay all your love on me

Another song from Brainy’s perspective and another from Brandi, I think that it’s really fun how quickly Kara and Brainy fall for each other and especially how Kara changes Brainy’s perspective and he’s thrown off by it, but accepts it and accepts her, and she accepts him right back.

Kiss With a Fist (Florence + the Machine)

Broke your jaw once before

I spilt your blood upon the floor

You broke my leg in return

So let's sit back and watch the bed burn

Blood sticks sweat drips

Break the lock if it don't fit

A kick in the teeth is good for some

A kiss with a fist is better than none

Whoa a kiss with a fist is better than none

I think this one is the quintessential “enemies to lovers”/ “people in a relationship who always fight” song and again it doesn’t quite fit because it depicts them as already being in a relationship when they are fighting, but I do like it as a song and I think it does kind of work for the beginning of the movie, even if it fits very loosely and it’s more vibes than anything else.

A New Brain- I Fight Dragons

They tell her you've got a destiny, somebody you're supposed to be

Far from this small town there's answers waiting to be found

So she lies awake thinking there's been some mistake

Crying her eyes out, begging for help, she's shouting

I want a new brain, I want a new heart

I'm sick of feeling, failing, and falling apart

I want the courage to make a new start

Time after time I flip from fine to failing and falling apart

Another song I absolutely love (my top song of 2020 on Spotify, I think) and I’d say it definitely fits Kara, with her struggling to find her place after Krypton is destroyed and she wakes up on Earth, and her perspective early on, up until Clark shows her the time bubble and tells her about the Legion. And of course we know she does make a new start, and does find her place among people who accept her and make her feel like she belongs. It’s just a really nice thematic song for her, and of course the mention of Kansas and the Wizard of Oz references fit with Kansas being where Clark was found and the Wizard of Oz being Kara’s favorite movie in at least the TV show.

I Won’t Say (I’m in Love) (from Hercules):

If there's a prize for rotten judgement

I guess I've already won that

No man is worth the aggravation

That's ancient history, been there, done that!

Who'd ya think you're kiddin'

He's the earth and heaven to you

Try to keep it hidden

Honey, we can see right through you

Girl, ya can't conceal it

We know how ya feel and

Who you're thinking of

I think it would have been very fun/cute if we had gotten more scenes like the one towards the end of the movie where Kara and Brainy are found by some of the other Legion academy members, and they point out how much they’re flirting with each other, but this definitely fits that kind of scene and Kara starting to realize how she feels about Brainy even though he does frustrate her and of course he’s a Brainiac and she doesn’t trust him on instinct.

What Is This Feeling? (from Wicked):

What is this feeling?

Fervid as a flame

Does it have a name?

Yes

Loathing

Unadulterated loathing

For your face

Your voice

Your clothing

Let's just say - I loathe it all

Every little trait however small

Makes my very flesh begin to crawl

With simple utter loathing

There's a strange exhilaration

In such total detestation

It's so pure, so strong

Though I do admit it came on fast

Still I do believe that it can last

And I will be loathing, loathing you

My whole life long

Dear Galinda, you are just too good

How do you stand it? I don't think I could

She's a terror! She's a tartar

We don't mean to show a bias

But Galinda you're a martyr

Well, these things are sent to try us

Poor Galinda forced to reside

With someone so disgusting-I-fied

We just want to tell you

We're all on your side

So this is another song I love, and there’s another song from this musical that I memorized the lyrics to as far back as 2017, but I hadn’t listened to it in a while but this song fits freakishly well for Karadox in this movie? Like, obviously, Kara distrusting Brainy because of his Brainiac connection, and him hating her right back, but also I think of the moment where Dawnstar tells Kara outright that nobody wants Brainy around, and the part where the senior Legion members discuss him at some point and say that they don’t trust him either. Kara and Brainy aren’t actually roommates here, and the beginning of the song where it’s spoken doesn’t really fit, but everything else does and I love it.

Peace and Love on the Planet Earth (from Steven Universe):

What is the point?

You're not making anything

Well, if it isn't anything then why does it sound so good?

I suppose it's just interest

Do-mi-so-do

Devoid of substance or purpose, a hypothetical pattern...

Do-mi-so-ti

For the satisfaction of bringing it to completion

Sure

Do-mi-so-ti

Interest without meaning

Solutions without problems

I guess we're already here

I guess we already know

We've all got something to fear

We've all got nowhere to go

I think you're all insane!

But I guess I am too

Anybody would be

If they were stuck on Earth with you!

Life and death and love and birth and

Peace and war on the planet Earth

Is there anything that's worth more

Than peace and love on the planet Earth

Listen, I just think that Brainy has Peridot vibes in general, and for this movie in particular he’s pre-redemption/during redemption Peridot, when she’s just getting used to being around Steven and the Gems, and I don’t think either Brainy or Kara is necessarily stuck on Earth, but that’s kind of the vibe with Kara not being able to go back to Krypton and Brainy probably not being treated great on Colu given his heritage. And of course, for both Peridot and Brainy, we know the climaxes of their emotional journeys, and both are great moments of catharsis. Also again I just love this song.

#long post #papa don’t look #rachel talks about stuff #karadox #tomorrowverse #legion of superheroes #legion of super heroes #playlist

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niqhtlord01 · 2 years

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Humans are weird: The Black Fleet Part I

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“After the final battle of Singapore the last vestiges of human resistance on the planet was all but broken.”

Martel listened to the automated message as he looked at the exhibit.

Behind the thick plasteel window laid the burnt remains of a human goliath tank. Scorch marks from plasma weapons dotted along its hull with a deep scar like gash cutting through the turret and revealing the insides. If Martel peered closely enough he thought he could almost see the human driver’s remains still where at the controls.

He was so caught up with the tank he failed to notice his son calling for his attention.

“Come on!” Pael called to his father as he ran into the next exhibit.

Martel had promised to take him to the museum for his birthing day though he had underestimated how overly dull it was. He passed by several others who were looking over the battle remains and went into the next room as the automated narrator continued.

“Within the next five solar rotations the planet was entirely free from the warlike humans and work on building a new paradise soon commenced.”

Martel found his son looking over a diorama of the first Ethereal city plans that were laid out shortly after the war with humanity had ended. Their scope was awe inspiring as he noted the size of some cities spanned entire continents and were planned to perfectly balance nature and the ever growing new population.

“Did we really wipe out all the monsters?” Pael asked his father as he joined him over at the diorama. He was amused that he still refused to call them by their name and would only address them as such.

“Yes, all of the monsters were destroyed on the planet.” Martel chuckled.

“But what about the ones not on the planet?” his son asked as he walked over to a picture showing an Ethereal fleet over the once proud human homeworld.

“They fled into space with what ships available.” Martel began before he saw his son becoming anxious and decided to ease his mind. “But they were poorly made things and in the last five hundred years not a single one of them has been seen since.”

Pael’s smile returned and he was about to go into the human fashion exhibit when the automated narrator cut out and an announcement was played.

“Attention all visitors,” the pa began, “we apologize for the inconvenience but we are closing the museum early today; please head to the nearest exit and return to your homes.”

Martel listened as the message repeated itself when something outside the window caught his eye.

Across the garden square in front of the museum Martel could see others begin led out of buildings and a line of armored vehicles driving down the streets.

He made to grab hold of Pael and follow the other visitors out of the museum, but when he turned around his son was nowhere to be seen.

-----------

“Unknown vessels, you have entered Ethereal Domotatus controlled space, respond immediately.”

The communications officer waited for a response but was met only with silence. They looked over their shoulder at their commander and shook their head.

From his command throne the station keeper Leptonious sat with growing frustration.

Not more than two hours had passed since outlying sensor beacons started sounding off as a large number of unidentified vessels began appearing at the edge of the system. Closer analysis had come up largely negative across the board for identifying the ships and were it not for their engines thermal signatures the sensors may not have even registered them at all. When Leptonious ordered a visual display of the ships the images transmitted back further confounded the station command staff.

The ships exteriors were painted entirely in a black like substance that appeared to suck the light in as if it was a black hole. There were no windows or docking ports of any kind and in the dark vacuum of space their very outline was barely visible against the starry backdrop.

In all his years running the orbital station of Sigma 7 he had not once come across a species with such ship designs and the fact that they had approached this close without a challenge further infuriated him as his record would surely be stained.

Station Keeper stood up from his command throne and strode over to the communications terminal and pushed the officer there aside.

“This is Station Keeper Leptonious,” Leptonious announced loudly into the terminal communicator, “you will halt your progress into our territory and iden-“

A loud screech of static cut off Leptonious and drowned out the rest of the room as it overloaded the speaker systems. The bridge crew dropped what they were doing and covered their ears from the sudden violent assault; some even collapsing to their knees weeping as the screech fluctuated pitch and tone rapidly.

After nearly a straight minute of this Leptonious was about to manually cut the transmission when the screeching stopped.

The bridge crew slowly recovered and resumed their posts when the communications began transmitting again.

“We……are here.”

Sounding soft and distant at the same time many of the bridge crew could not even register what had just been said after the previous screeching. Thankfully Leptonious could and reacted immediately.

“Unidentified vessels,” Leptonious began again, “you have entered Ethereal Domotatus territory and-“

“No.”

The single word cut off the station keeper mid-sentence like a knife through hot butter. Leptonious infuriated with the interruption and was about to unleash a lethal dose of obscenities when he noticed his sensor officer waving him down.

Switching the view screen from a visual image to tactical display Leptonious’s eyes went wide in horror.

Whoever these unidentified vessels were they weren’t just approaching from a single approach into the system; they were appearing around the entire system at once. One by one ships began registering one after another coming in from every angle, even from below and above the galactic plain. Soon the entire sensor display was awash with a swarm of red icons, all seemingly making for the station itself.

“Not your territory;” The voice sounded off again from the communicator, “ours.”

Leptonious gathered what pride he had still and challenged this claim.

“And by what right do you believe you can claim ownership of this system?

There was a long silence before the communications lit up with the response.

“By right of birth…..”

Leptonious dropped the communicator and took a step back in shock while the rest bridge crew looked on in confusion as the red icons slowly continued their progress to the core world. The final message was transmitted before the bridge crew broke down into urgent panic and began issuing a series of mobilization orders to the surrounding system fleets and the planet below.

“We are humanity, and we have returned for our home.”

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #writing

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cconstant-ccraving · 2 years

Text

God Only Knows

Chapter Two

Episode: S01xEP06

Pairing: slow burn Aaron Hotchner x fem!OC.

Warnings: Mentions of stalking, shootings + wrongful incarceration.

Summary: Gideon interrogates Captain Y/n Miller and unveils her past. Hotch and the team watch on from behind the glass, feeling like they couldn’t have made a bigger mistake.

one two three four five six seven

The door to the interrogation room opened slowly as Agent Gideon stepped into the room. y/n had her head in her hands until he stepped into the room and she sat upright.

She waited until he sat down to speak, “Is um- is your Agent alright?”

Gideon slightly cocked his brow, not speaking. He thought it was curious that she inquired into his well-being. The profile they had put together while in the conference room established the unsub as a narcissist.

They sat in silence until she continued, “If you could pass on my apologies, I would appreciate it. That was wrong of me, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Unbeknownst to her, the team sat behind the one way glass, listening to her every word. Morgan’s nose had stopped bleeding but it was broken, he had it reset by the precinct medic who had advised him to keep it, and himself, out of trouble until it healed.

Gideon sighed, opening the file in front of him, taking out the crime scene photos, “My name is Agent Gideon. I’m with the F.B.I’s behavioural analysis unit. Ex-special forces, huh? You did three tours, that’s impressive. You went to college, you’re educated. You’re a functioning member of society and, yet, none of that stopped them from incarcerating you.”

He watched her for any movement. He thought he’d see her freeze, see her jaw lock or tears spring in her eyes. She just sat there, looking back at him.

“So, you got angry,” he continued, “you wanted to cause as much trauma and pain for other people as the state of Illinois put you through. So you shot six people and murdered one.”

He slapped the images of the victims closer to her on the table.

She shook her head, jaw now clenching, “I didn’t do this.”

“Just like you didn’t murder your college professor? You know, it wouldn’t surprise me if you did. It was such a convenience when someone else claimed your crimes wasn’t it? Did you know him? I’m sure he was your biggest fan and just had to follow in your footsteps of murdering college professors. Probably made sure that you would get out of jail, continue the legacy huh?” Gideon raised his voice at her.

This is when she jerked forward, “You know nothing about me! Nothing! I didn’t kill anyone, that much was proven in court. Yes, I was in jail for a crime I didn’t commit but I moved past that a long time ago, Agent. I went to therapy, I shed my tears and I moved on.”

---

Hotch watched her from behind the glass, feeling as though he had made a mistake. He watched the way her mouth moved as she spoke, her lip split and bleeding from being pushed on the table. Her forehead was bruised but her eyes were focused on Gideon.

Derek stood up from his seat and wandered closer to the glass before speaking, “I don’t think this is our unsub. Think about it, she has the position, she has the admiration. We profiled they would feel unseen, unheard. They are narcissistic and have a severe paranoid personality disorder. She’s not showing any of those signs.”

Hotch sighed, rubbing his hand on his neck before looking at the team, “I still think it’s a good idea to keep her in custody until she can provide an alibi. I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Don’t you think she could still be of help to us Hotch? She is a professional marksman, she’d have more insight into the L.D.S.K than most of us here. If what Gideon said was true, that we’ve never caught one of these guys with a profile, maybe we should let her go, ask her for help?” Elle spoke.

“That’s assuming she would still be willing to help us. I almost feel bad for her, she may have broken my damn nose but she was likely reliving the trauma of being arrested for a crime she knows she didn’t commit,” Morgan spoke again.

---

“Where were you then? During the shootings? You say you’re innocent, prove it,” Gideon asked her.

She hesitated.

“There’s a florist, along the high-street. It’s called Bluebells nursery. I was there at the time of the first shooting, before you were called in. I used my credit card there to purchase a bouquet of chrysanthemums. There’ll be a receipt and security footage,” She spoke softly.

Gideon analysed her movements, “And after that?”

She sighed, leaning back in her chair, looking up to the ceiling before looking back to Gideon, “Livingstone Cemetery.”

Gideon fell quiet, taking the time to consider his next move. Before he could continue she spoke, “I may not have killed her, Agent Gideon. But it’s because of me they’re dead.”

“How do you figure?” Gideon asks, genuinely curious as to how this young woman carried so much guilt over a murder that wasn’t her doing.

“In your investigation of my background you will have missed some things due to my expunged record...” y/n stopped, leaning forward she clasped her hands together on the table, “Professor Jennings was helping me prep for my interview with the admissions panel for the masters programme. So, naturally, we spent some time together. James Hanson, was a high school senior who had been stalking me after he watched me speak in a debate hosted by their school for prospective Harvard students. He had been following me for 6 months and when he saw I was spending time with someone that wasn’t him he broke into her office and murdered her after one of our meetings. He wore gloves, cleaned up after himself. My prints were all of her office. Once he started killing he couldn’t stop, even after I went to jail. He then killed another Professor and their TA, who had walked in on him. He got sloppy. The TA, her name was Alison Brown, she dialled 911 before he strangled her with her own belt. The other Professor was on my admissions panel, his name was Russo Bianchi. When he was arrested he admitted to the all of the murders and said that he did it because he loved me, and they were standing in the way of my success.”

She paused, making sure she looked Gideon right in the eye, “So, no. You don’t get to sit there and accuse me of gunning down the father of three children. You don’t get to sit there say that I am grateful to the man who killed three people in my name and you sure as hell don’t call him my biggest fan...” She paused. “So, if you are not charging me with anything, I would like to leave. Now.”

---

Hotch lent an arm against then wall and sighed. Morgan sat back down in his chair, his head in his hands. The team sat in silence.

Morgan sat up straight and said, “Jesus, man. We just traumatised this woman and for what? The fact she slightly fit our preliminary profile? God damn it!”

“There was no way you guys could have known, it’s not your fault,” JJ spoke softly from across the room.

The door to their side of the room opened and Detective Calvin stepped in, “There’s been another shooting at a restaurant downtown. Three more victims, all non-fatal wounds again.”

“Greenway, Morgan, you come with me to the scene. I’ll go tell Gideon he can let Captain Miller go,” Hotch said as the team dispersed.

---

Before Gideon could respond Hotch knocked on the door and walked in the room. Y/n’s eyes jump to him, her face still stern. Something Hotch noticed while profiling her is that her eyes were always expressive.

Meanwhile, y/n looked at him. He was tall, handsome, clearly admired by his colleagues. He was the leader, despite Agent Gideon clearly being the oldest.

“There’s been another shooting,” He spoke, stepping fully into the room. Gideon looked from his colleague, back to y/n. If Gideon hadn’t spent so many years in the BAU, learning how to hide his facial expressions and disguise his body language, his face would show guilt. Remorse. Gideon leaned forward and unlocked her handcuffs, letting her stand up from the desk. She didn’t look at Gideon as she walked out, gently brushing Hotch’s chest as she squeezed between him and the door frame.

Hotch’s gaze followed her as she spotted her weapons on the desk directly opposite the interrogation room. Her colleagues stopped their work and looked at her, before looking away again as though nothing had happened. They have complete trust in her, Hotch thought to himself. Even when she was arrested, her coworkers didn’t believe she had done anything. The team had received many distasteful looks and refusals to help them since they’d arrested Captain Y/n Miller.

Gideon stepped up beside him, watching as y/n walked out of the precinct and into her car. Frowning, Gideon spoke, “In my thirty years of profiling, I don’t think I have ever regretted interviewing a potential suspect. Until today.”

---

next chapter

#aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner angst #hotch imagine #hotch x reader #bau #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #constantcravingwrites

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titularkilljoy · 3 years

Text

sometimes and always

//a love story in five acts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: It's hard to resist falling into bed with a cute neighbour, but it turns out it's even harder to resist falling for him. (alternatively- Spencer Reid and the reader struggle to resolve their feelings but make valiant attempts to do so while lying horizontally in each other's beds.)

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, strong language, decidedly non-American spelling conventions

Author's Note: SO. This fic was originally part of a fic swap for the wickedly talented @imagining-in-the-margins, but it is now over six months too late. Thankfully, patience apparently springs eternal in her?? besides all the other amazing things?? Unfair, but good for me. So, Pom, this one is for you. Thanks for being the absolute best and putting up with my rants and not judging me for mocking everything and everyone all the time. Love, Perpetually Tardy.

(i)

This is how it happened the first time.

I was frowning at the pitiful stack of mail in my hands, wondering if the conspicuously missing letters and subscriptions would ever be returned to me. Ever since moving to my new apartment, I had been at the mercy of the Postal System and that was never a good situation to be in. I’d resigned myself to having to take an extra trip back to my old building and do some investigating, when the elevator dinged and I stepped in. Just as the doors slid closed, there was the frantic rumble of footsteps and a hand slipping into the narrowing gap.

The doors sprang apart to let in the harried owner of the appendage, who barely spared me a glance before turning to face the front, eyes briefly darting to the buttons. It took me a second to recognise him. It was the guy from the apartment opposite to mine, although so far that seemed to be only a nominal living arrangement; in my two weeks there, I’d seen him exactly once, merely in passing, and we had exchanged a sum total of zero words.

I followed his lead and stopped blatantly staring at him, though I continued studying him covertly through my peripheral vision. He looked—well, his jawline looked like it could cut glass effortlessly and he had the soft chestnut hair of a male model and I knew I was probably going to develop a very embarrassing crush on him at some point— but besides that, he looked browbeaten, his whole posture seeming to buckle under the invisible weight of the world.

There was an awkward moment when he realised we were both heading in the same direction, and I took it upon myself to break the ice.

“Hi,” I greeted, introducing myself, “I just moved in. I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” I gave him my warmest smile.

His swift assessing glance would have escaped my notice if I hadn’t been paying such close attention; his expression was still shuttered off, but he offered an endearing little quirk of his lips and an introduction. “Spencer Reid. I’ve-uh, I’ve been away on a work thing.”

“Oh? What do you do?” I asked, beginning a leisurely walk down the hallway and fishing my keys out of my bag. I immediately regretted the query when, impossibly, his eyes became even more guarded.

“I’m an FBI agent.”

Well, that clipped admission would have given anyone pause. “Oh, wow. That’s really impressive, dude.”

“Thanks.” He hesitated before adding, “I’m part of the Behavioural Analysis Unit.”

“So, you’re like a psychologist?”

“I catch serial killers.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable so much as it was brimming with my insecurities. The alcohol in my blood helped with that, though; the next words were out of my mouth before I even registered the thought.

“Do you want to come in?”

“Oh, uh—”

He was going to say no.

“It’s just that you look like you could use some company. And I think it’s absolutely criminal that we haven’t gotten to know each other yet.”

“It’s really late.”

But he was rocking forwards on his toes just the tiniest bit, leading me to believe that some part of him did want to take me up on my offer that night.

“So it is. Come on, Agent Reid. Be a good neighbour.”

“It’s Doctor, actually,” he corrected. “Doctor Reid. I have Ph.Ds. Three of them.”

My eyebrows had risen to my hairline and, sensing the change in the air, he hurried to put me at ease. “But you can just call me Spencer.”

“Huh. You don’t hear that every day.” I chuckled sheepishly. “Well, come on in, Doctor.”

There was a moment when his whole body leaned towards me and his face looked conflicted but slightly enthusiastic, and I was convinced I could turn the night into a very pleasant one for both of us. Then, with a loud clatter, my keys slipped from my hands, startling us. The moment was broken, and I sighed in resignation.

“Let me guess, you’ve decided I’m too drunk and we’re going to go our separate ways.”

At least he had the good grace to look apologetic. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now,” he told me slowly as he bent down to pick up my keys and pressed them securely into my outstretched hand, “It’s late and I’ve had a long day. I’ll...see you around?”

“Sure,” I managed to say with a regretful smile, “I’m holding you to that.”

*~*

That, however, turned out to be easier said than done, for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was the Herculean feat of unpacking and organising my new place with a mild hangover and a tinge of frustration over lost opportunities looming over me. Once that was dealt with, the bigger challenge turned out to be actually locating the man in question. I knocked on his door a few times, but when the responding silence continued to persist for over a week, I began to think he’d just been a drunken hallucination in the first place. And the longer I went without any follow-up interactions, the more intensely I started overthinking the slightly fuzzy memory of our brief conversation.

Of course I’d managed to make a fool of myself in front of a really cute guy. That was absolutely in character for me. Every time I passed by his door, I convinced myself a little more that I owed him a sincere apology for my poor, inconsiderate conduct.

Beyond the embarrassment, however, work didn’t leave me much time to think about it, and by the time I was trudging to my apartment the next Saturday, the whole encounter had been relegated firmly to the back burner. Naturally, that was when the faint glow of light under his door distracted me from the very passive-aggressive email I was composing. I hesitated.

The deep breaths I sucked in didn’t serve much more purpose than to make me somewhat lightheaded, but I forged on anyway. I knocked on the door, and waited.

There was silence, followed by the sound of reluctantly shuffling feet, and then, finally, I was face to face with Spencer Reid once again.

“Um,” I started, “hi.”

He stared at me wordlessly for a beat, during which I started to wonder if he’d actually forgotten me already.

“So, we met the other day, and I just want to apologise. I didn’t mean to come on to you so strongly, and I get that you weren’t int-”

“Do you want to come inside?”

“..What?”

“Do you want to come inside?” he repeated, enunciating clearly. That didn’t clear up my confusion, though.

“Um. Yes? Sure. I mean, no, shouldn’t we talk about this a bit?”

He let out a tired laugh. “I don’t want to talk right now.”

“Alright,” I said, biting my lip. I followed him inside, and pushed the door closed behind me; it emitted an innocuous little click as it fell shut.

There was something about the weariness behind his eyes and the careful set of his jaw that made me want to study him and understand what was going through his head, but all I could glean that night was that Spencer didn’t seem amenable to much time spent on documentation.

“So,” I began unsurely, shedding my jacket and scanning the contents of the room, the piles upon piles of books and the distinct lack of much else, “tell me about yourself.”

“Didn’t I already do that?”

“Hmm, that’s not the whole story,” I mumbled, running my fingers over a broken-spined, wrinkled copy of Paradise Lost laid open on a heavy wooden desk. A single smudge of blue ink stood out against the yellowing page, and beside it, the print read: This horror will grow mild, this darkness light. “You’re not just an FBI agent.”

“That’s all that’s important,” he asserted, taking a step towards me. He had one eye on my curiously wandering fingers and, sensing that it was making him more antsy than he needed to be, I tucked my hands into my back pockets, facing him with a grin of false bravado. I really wished I was drunk. That would have made things infinitely easier.

“Besides,” he continued, this time meeting my eyes directly, “I don’t know anything about you either.”

“Fair enough,” I conceded, stepping closer to him.

His eyes didn’t leave mine, until my own strayed to the bobbing curve of his throat and the tantalising motion of his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip. Not for the first time that week, I wondered how terrible of an idea it would be to try to kiss my attractive neighbour. I could see my own apprehensions mirrored in his stance, and I saw the exact moment when he identified the focus of my gaze.

I didn’t have to spend much time contemplating. He decided, just as I did, that any consequences of this impulsive decision could be dealt with later.. I lunged for him just as he closed the distance in one long stride, grasping my jaw in both his hands. Then we were firmly attached at the lips, and his arms wrapped around my waist and dragged me closer, seemingly intent on devouring my mouth. Gradually, our actions slowed a bit, the kiss turning softer and more exploratory, our tongues winding around each other gently, my lungs readily accepting his deep, nasal sigh.

His arms around my waist were a steadily spreading band of warmth, and I could feel the growing evidence of his arousal against my thigh. I found myself thinking I could be very happy with just kissing him like this, feeling his breaths tickle my face, letting my hands suffer minute pinpricks from the stubble littering his jaw. But then his grip shifted to my hips and tightened ever so slightly, and it was like I’d been doused with fuel and set alight. My fingers struggled to unbutton his shirt as he pressed distracting kisses along my neck, my soft whimpers breaking the relative silence of the room.

All of a sudden, the ground shifted and my stomach swooped, and it took a second or two before I realised I was now in his arms, being carried towards, presumably, his bedroom. Content, I got to work on undoing the last button and trying to slip the shirt down his arms entirely. He granted me a chuckle for my troubles before laying me down gently on our destination and taking it off himself.

He didn’t waste any time in sinking his knees into the soft mattress on either side of my legs, helping me out of my own clothes and methodically kissing every bit of newly exposed skin, until finally, I was clad only in flimsy cotton and he was nosing at my aching core. With two fingers, he deftly removed the last of my defences and pressed his mouth against me. I moaned, my hands flying to his hair and trying to keep from pulling too hard as he used his tongue to examine every inch of my arousal, evidently experimenting based on the sounds he managed to elicit from me.

“Oh, my God,” I babbled, hips bucking wildly under the iron grip holding them down.

“Tell me,” he demanded, pulling away slightly, “tell me how much you like it.”

“Spencer,” I breathed desperately, “Please. I need- I need more.”

He hummed leisurely against me, frustrating me to no end. My grip in his hair tightened at last, guiding him where I needed him most, and I swear I felt his lips stretch into a smile.

It went on for what felt like hours, but there was no earthly way I could have lasted that long. He took mercy on me eventually, plunging two long fingers deep inside me, closing his lips around the bundle of nerves that, predictably, sent me into a violent, shaking climax. He nursed me patiently through the aftershocks, waiting till my legs had stilled before rising to undo his belt and rid himself of his pants. I was already mourning the loss of his closeness, and I pulled him back on top of me the moment he was within reach.

“Come on, Doctor,” I taunted, “It’s time you made good on your promise and got to the main event.”

“I never promised anything,” he retorted, but the playful glint in his eyes excited me, and while he reached over beside us to the nightstand, I rose to the occasion.

“Oh? Well, if you don’t want to, I guess I’ll just head out, then,” I teased, going so far as to attempt to sit up from underneath him. I felt a low, threatening sound begin in his chest and make its way up his throat as his hands gripped my wrists and brought them down to my sides, pinning me in place.

It was my turn to chuckle at his eagerness, lifting my head to briefly peck him on his lips.

“Don’t worry, Spencer,” I cooed, “I’m not going anywhere. Now fuck me already.”

“With pleasure,” came the response, and while I wondered idly how a smirk could simultaneously be sinister and bashful, there was the sharp sound of crinkling foil, and then he cut off my thoughts by entering me in one fluid motion.

“Fuck!” I cried out, holding him around the shoulders, bringing him impossibly closer.

“That’s it,” he groaned in my ear, “let me hear you.”

He set a torturous rhythm, thrusting into me harshly before pulling out slowly, carefully, making me relish the sensation, anticipation building steadily in the pit of my stomach and spreading until it engulfed me. A ceaseless litany of moans and whimpers filled the air around us, the source of each barely discernible. At last, I could feel myself riding the very precipice, and his name began to fall from my lips like a prayer.

“Spencer,” I called, “Spenc-”

He swallowed the rest of my inconsequential cries, bringing his thumb to where we were joined to guide me over the edge, and as I convulsed around him soundlessly, he reached his own climax, blunt fingernails leaving crescent marks on my hips, his heavy panting breaths stuttering, once, against my clavicle, before calming and slowly evening out.

We stayed that way for a few minutes, my hand combing lightly through his hair, his closed-mouth kisses pressing against my neck like a balm. Eventually, though, we had to move, and it was he who did first. He pulled out and walked away from the bed without looking at me, tossing the tied-up condom in the trash. I sat up, cross-legged, watching him for a bit, pursing my lips when I noticed he was actively avoiding my gaze.

I cleared my throat. “Where’s your bathroom?”

He pointed in a general direction and mumbled something incoherent; sighing in disappointment, I stood up gingerly and went to clean myself up. When I returned, the room still smelled like sex, and Spencer was still evasive, but he was sitting on the edge of the bed now. He looked up when I entered, watching me pick up my clothes.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

I glanced over at him. “Yeah, I’m good. You?”

Nodding, he watched me get dressed, then followed me into the living room and watched me drape my jacket over my arm. Then he watched me walk to the door, all the while not saying a word.

The cool steel of the doorknob in my hand, I looked over my shoulder one more time.

“Well, Spencer. You know where to find me, I guess,” I muttered, shaking my head slightly. Then I left his apartment, and despite the enormity of what had transpired during my visit, the click of the door closing sounded exactly the same.

(ii)

Of course, after that, I resolved it would never happen again. The man next door clearly had some issues with what we had done, and I couldn’t be bothered to solve them. It was, frankly, idiotic to jeopardise the prospect of good neighbours in favour of sex, however great it might have been.

It was embarrassing how quickly my resolution packed its bags and jumped out of my third-storey window.

I was awoken the next morning by three firm raps on my door. I think I knew, somehow, who was trying to get my attention, so I took my time, but the reveal of Spencer’s regretful face didn’t surprise me any less. I was wary as I stared at him wordlessly, cycling through all the possible reasons for his visit, and his eyes dropped to the way my arms tightly hugged my midsection. He winced then, meeting my eyes.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” he blurted, and it sounded so rehearsed that I had to stifle a guffaw. There was a flicker of something in his eyes that could have been frustration, but he powered through. “I’ve had a pretty terrible week at work and I think I was trying to get something out of my head. But I was awful to you, and it was completely my fault. I’m sorry if I offended you. I had...a great time.”

I’d been watching him carefully throughout his speech, and if he was faking the earnestness in those last couple of lines, he was an extraordinary actor. I concluded, as I studied the apologetic slump of his shoulders and the dark bags into which his eyes had sunken, that I didn’t need to worry about the veracity of his words.

“It’s okay,” I said hesitantly. “I mean, no, it’s not okay, it felt really awful, but thanks for explaining. I get it now.”

“Oh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking off to the side, “that’s great. Thank you.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

“Problem?” I was bemused.

“No!” He was looking back at me, now. “I- well, to be honest, I wasn’t expecting it to be this easy. I thought I’d have to convince you.”

“Huh. Well, you can still convince me, Doctor. Give me a second to get ready. You’re buying me breakfast.”

I quite liked the shy smile that graced his face in response.

*~*

It kept happening. There was no way I could have stopped it, and there was no reason I would have wanted to.

We quickly grew into a familiar rhythm. Each time, it started with one of us having a particularly stressful day. Each time, it started with a knock on the door and some perfunctory shuffling around. Before wasn’t the time for talking. Each time, we’d stumble into whichever surface was closest, and every time it wasn’t the bed, Spencer would make some halfhearted protests about germs and hygiene, before I shut him up very effectively with a manicured hand on his dick. Each time, in the During, I marvelled at how well we fit together, how quickly we’d learned each other’s bodies, and each time, I saw more of him than I had the last.

And I loved every bit of it.

Spencer no longer retreated into his shell in the After. He’d try sometimes, but I knew how to coax him out, now. I’d slip my hand into his, ever so gently, and wait. Or I’d sling one arm around his waist until he returned the embrace. I was getting scarily good at reading him. It was like working on an intricate puzzle, and every new achievement was rewarded with a deeper, longer look into his mind.

I carefully stored away every casual anecdote about someone from work or his godson or his mother, and I loved to watch the life burn bright in his eyes. Of course, they were all happy stories. I could sense the bittersweet aftertaste they left in his mouth, but he never let me inspect it too closely. In turn, I regaled him with tales of my own, of my sister and my parents, of my cat that was perpetually falling asleep on top of me. I told him all the easy, palatable things, holding back just as much as he did, always careful to maintain the wall of superficiality.

But things did slip through the cracks every once in a while, from both of us-- they were bound to, what with the sheer amount of time we spent together in various states of undress. Things that made me burn with curiosity that couldn’t be sated without jeopardising the very foundation of our arrangement. So I turned a blind eye to the jagged scars on his thigh and neck when he failed to maneuver to hide them; in return, he kept mum when I walked into his apartment, on the day of my worst professional disaster, with runny makeup and bloodshot eyes, shivering all over.

If he noticed that I kissed the skin over his scars a little more tenderly, lavishing attention on him the first time I saw them, he didn’t show it. If he liked the way I always nuzzled my face into the one on his neck when we were done, he didn’t show it.

For my part, I tried very hard not to read into the slow, shallow thrusts or the almost reverent way he handled me when my tears still hadn’t dried. I definitely did not read into the arm over my shoulder or the slightly baffled crease in his brow while we sat on his couch with a random episode of The Office.

And if, maybe, the frequency of his visits increased as the months went by, who could blame him? He was an FBI agent. He probably had a lot of bad days.

Sometimes, though, I’d go over when I’d had a good day and I felt like celebrating. Sometimes, I’d knock on his door just because I was bored and I wanted to see him. It wasn’t as if he would know the difference. Our bodies knew how to be around each other, and that was all that mattered.

This was just stress relief, after all.

(“Have you ever been in love?” I asked him once, abruptly, my heart still pounding as the sweat cooled on our skins.

He glanced at me warily, but he must have detected only honest curiosity on my face, not lovesickness or anything else that would have had him running for the hills.

He chewed on his lip for a moment. “Once.”

“What happened?” My finger traced an aimless pattern on his chest.

“She loves me,” he said, “but she isn’t in love with me.”)

We never articulated any feelings we may or may not have about each other or our situation. We dodged sincere conversation like it would kill us. So all the pieces we owned of each other were ones that we had been remiss in guarding diligently. That only made them all the more precious.

But on the heels of every stolen glance, there was a moment where he looked right through me, where I felt blank and insubstantial, like I was a placeholder for something or someone, and that would be enough for the wall to be between us again, rigid and unrelenting.

It was a shame that I was stupid enough to hold on to the scraps that fell through anyway.

(iii)

I was an immensely stupid person.

That was the only explanation for why I was leaning against the outer wall of our apartment building at three in the morning, desperately shoving my hands into my coat pockets to brace against the cold.

“You don’t have to be here.”

Can he read minds now? I wondered sullenly. Spencer was sitting on the front steps, with his head in his hands. His hair was dishevelled, and his eyes were the picture of torment. I would have loved to console him, but every attempt so far had been firmly rebuffed.

He had knocked on my door an hour ago and silenced my greeting with a bruising kiss. Of course, I knew how to do that dance, but Spencer had been off his rhythm tonight. When I’d reached for his shirt, he’d pushed my arms away. When I had kissed his jaw, he'd flinched. When I’d finally retreated in concern to ask him what was wrong, he had huffed out that he was perfectly fine, before trying to lift my shirt over my head.

I’d pushed him onto the bed and tried to distract him, and he had responded by clenching the sheets in his fists instead of grabbing my hips. I’d whispered his name in his ear the way he usually loved, and he’d climbed out from under me, sitting up on the bed with his chest heaving. At that point, I’d given up. What had followed was an exercise in patience.

(“Spencer, what’s wrong?” I’d asked again, to no avail.

“It’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about it,” he’d gritted out, glaring at me.

I’d sighed. “Okay, which is it? Nothing, or that you don’t want to talk about it?”

Silence.

“Well something is clearly bothering you. Am I just supposed to ignore that?”

“We don’t need to talk about anything.” He’d tried to kiss me again. That time, I was the one who pushed him away.

“No, Spencer, this isn’t working. I don’t think we should do this tonight.”

The glare had intensified. “Fine.” He’d gotten up and tried to put his shirt back on, but his hands were shaking.

Cursing my investment in this man, I’d helped him while he stared daggers at me. When he’d hunted down his shoes and made his way out of my apartment, I’d pulled on my coat and followed, petting my cat briefly when he tried to follow us.)

So now we were outside, experiencing the most awkward silence ever known to man. Every time I attempted to put a hand on his shoulder or sit beside him, he would tense up yet again.

“Yes, Spencer,” I replied at length, “I do. You look like you might accidentally walk into traffic. I’m not leaving.”

“It’s not your problem.” The petulance was beginning to get on my nerves. I hadn’t signed up for sleepless weeknights.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” I told him, shrugging.

I pulled out my phone to distract myself with the cute animals in my game. Spencer was still worryingly silent. But if he didn’t want to talk to me and he wouldn’t let me near him, there was little I could do but stand there.

Every now and then, his breathing would hitch, and I would study him out of the corner of my eye. Whether he fully registered my presence or not, I was unsure, but he seemed to be calming down. He looked less on edge, his eyes less wild, and I was about to approach him and try again, when a black car pulled up just ahead of us.

Both our heads jerked to attention, but the petite blonde who exited the car only had eyes for Spencer.

“Spence!” She rushed to him, pulling him into a hug that he slowly reciprocated. “Your phone is off. After what happened, I was so worried,” she murmured into his hair, her eyes shut in relief.

And Spencer-- Spencer’s face was something to behold. His eyes were tightly closed, his lips turned down unhappily, and his face was so naked and open that I almost looked away. Almost. The pain that shone there riveted me. I felt as if I could see every wound he had ever suffered, in that instant. He’d never shown me that before. And he still hadn’t-- this wasn’t for me. The embrace broke, but his face stayed the same while the woman fussed over him.

Something came back to me, a fragment of a memory. She loves me but she isn’t in love with me. Unbidden, a sound of realisation escaped my throat, drawing two pairs of eyes to the dark corner in which I had been so far obscured.

Spencer schooled his face back to some semblance of normalcy, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Uh, JJ, this is--”

“Leaving,” I blurted out, then cleared my throat. “I was just leaving. Work in the morning. Nice to meet you.” I tried to smile at her, but it felt more like a pained grimace.

I brushed past both of them, but hesitated on the top step. “Spencer…”

His gaze was inscrutable, and I was too tired to try to decipher it.

“Feel better,” I mumbled, and then I left them there.

*~*

I was not sulking.

I told myself this as I lounged on the couch in my most comfortable pyjamas, stuffing my face with junk food and watching Michael Scott lament his foot injury.

So what if Spencer was in love with a beautiful blonde while getting him to talk to me was like pulling teeth? It wasn’t like I’d been carrying a torch for him. We were just extremely compatible sexually. And in very close proximity to each other. That put us in the ideal position to hook up whenever we needed it. That was the extent of our relationship. For all I knew, he’d been sleeping with other people this whole time. I hardly had the right to protest it if he had. We hadn’t set up rules. We just fell into bed together as and when we liked.

It was a good, uncomplicated thing.

So I needed to make sense of whatever needless jealousy I was feeling, before I ruined it. I couldn’t sit around being pathetic. I had a life.

There was a knock on the door.

Sighing, I turned off the TV and put the snacks away. Spencer was quiet as I let him in. His eyes roamed the small living room as if he didn’t know his way around my place as well as he did his own. I perched on the arm of the couch and stared at him, hoping my face didn’t betray the rollercoaster of emotions I’d experienced over the last forty-eight hours.

“So,” I started, “you okay?”

He looked a bit startled, as if he hadn’t expected me to address it at all. I tried not to roll my eyes.

“Yeah. I’m alright.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” I prompted, “It was pretty intense.”

“It-uh, it was a work thing. JJ helped me out.”

Of course she did. “Great,” I said aloud.

We looked at each other for a beat. “She’s the one, isn’t she?” I blurted before I could stop myself.

“What?”

“The one you’re in love with?”

There was a telltale spot of red high on his cheeks, even as he sputtered. “That’s not-- I mean, yes, but that was--”

“It’s fine,” I said cheerily. “I was just curious.”

He frowned at me. “She’s my best friend, it’s not--”

“No, I get it.” My stomach was somewhere near my feet. “So, do you wanna fuck?”

Again, he seemed taken aback. “What?”

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” I directed my gaze at his meticulously polished shoes.

“No.” A pause. “I just wanted to say-- would you look at me for a second?”

I forced myself to comply.

“I, uh, I wanted to thank you. For staying with me the other night.” The sincerity in his eyes was a bit too much to bear at the moment.

I hadn’t done anything, and I told him as much.

“You didn’t have to. Just being there was more than enough.”

“Right,” I said hollowly. “So is that it?”

“Yeah.” He seemed very lost. “Um, are you okay?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re acting kind of strange.”

“That’s because there isn’t usually this much talking,” I snapped.

I longed to smooth out the lines on his face and make him feel at ease again. This was supposed to be the good, uncomplicated thing. He was apparently making an effort. I could return the favour.

“I’m sorry,” I said, letting out a deep breath and rubbing a hand over my face. “Can I get you something to drink? We can talk about it if you want. Or just hang out.” I tried to squash down the hope that bloomed in my chest.

“Oh. Sure, if that’s okay.” He was chewing on his lip again, and it was unfairly appealing.

And so he stayed. I got two mugs of coffee, and when I came back, he was on my couch reading a well-worn paperback, as if he belonged there. I had to agree with the thought. When he heard me enter the room, he looked up with a smile.

When he left three hours later, I couldn’t remember what we’d talked about or the name of the book he’d abandoned within minutes, but I remembered the way he’d leaned close to me while gesturing wildly with his hands, and I remembered that we hadn’t touched beyond accidental brushes of our fingers the entire time.

He still hadn’t revealed the source of his despair, and I knew there was someone he loved. I knew whatever this was, it would be temporary.

But the smile on my face as I closed the door was real.

(v)

Spencer kept coming over. I was never given the chance to initiate contact because it seemed like he was always at my place. Whenever he was in the city, he would be with me. I started to worry about his apartment gathering cobwebs from the disuse. But I couldn’t honestly complain about this new development.

Sometimes we had sex, and sometimes we didn’t. Sometimes he came in sore and tired, other times he was brimming with excitement with a playful grin. Sometimes he was angry at the world and I was allowed to coax him down from his rage. Those nights were in turn infuriating and thrilling.

(“What happened?”

“Work.”

“That’s really helpful, Spencer, care to elucidate?”

“No.”

“Okay, caveman.”

“Shut up and take off your clothes.”

I’d rolled my eyes and complied.)

I enjoyed every bit of him. I wanted to observe and chart every one of his moods and his little quirks. I loved the small pile of his books that had found their way onto the coffee table. I loved introducing him to pop culture that he approached with the same diligence as he would a textbook of quantum physics. He was an eager student, and I attempted to return the favour whenever he launched into his obscure tirades.

Some nights I would drowsily let him in and he would crawl into bed with me, fully clothed. The following mornings, I would wake up with a silly grin on my face, seeing him utterly relaxed and at peace. We’d have breakfast in my kitchen and slowly come awake together over our steaming mugs of coffee.

It was fun, learning him.

In the dead of night, as I was drifting off to sleep, he would tell me bits and pieces of horrible things he’d had to see. All I could offer him then was a tight, protective embrace and a steady gaze as the words clawed their way out of his reluctant throat. It felt like he was giving me some sort of twisted boon, these revelations of his pain. I collected them just as carefully as I did everything else. If it was a part of him that was freely given, I knew I wanted it.

At intervals, I would have to remind myself that he wasn’t truly emotionally available. It wasn’t hard. I only had to picture JJ’s relieved smile and the raw uncloaked expression on his face that I had never seen again. He mentioned her every now and then, and I’d discovered that his godson was her child. He never seemed upset, talking about her family, but he wasn’t the kind of man who would resent another’s happiness, even if it was at the expense of his own. I knew that now. I still remembered the way he would pull away from me and flinch at my touch, and I knew I was playing a losing game. There was no way out of this where I didn’t get hurt. All I could do was try to control it.

Three months after that night outside our building, I knew I’d fallen for him.

I was in trouble and I needed to do something about it, quickly. So I stopped preemptively cancelling plans with my friends and coworkers. I joined a book club. I called in a guy to loudly fix my bathroom sink the day I knew Spencer would be getting home. I even got a gym membership. I tried to be away from home as much as I could.

Whenever Spencer texted me, I would let him know I was unavailable. His texts got progressively more frustrated. Watching the excitement on his face dim when I turned him away at my door was painful. But it was necessary. I convinced myself that when Spencer and I stopped existing in this vacuum without other people, my feelings would weaken and I would be able to get him out of my head.

It didn’t work, of course, and I spent every day missing him. I tried to distract myself with work and my suddenly-full schedule, but the feelings were still there. Try as I might, I couldn’t stop thinking of him every morning and every night, and every time I passed his door and every time I walked by a bookstore.

So when Neil from work asked me out a week later, I said yes.

I wore a nice dress and heels, and he picked me up. We went to a midscale restaurant and talked about boring first-date things, and I knew within the first fifteen minutes that I didn’t want to see him again. I went through the motions, smiled pleasantly at him, and told him I would take a cab home. When I walked dejectedly up to my apartment, it took me a second to realise what I was looking at. My heart leapt and I dropped my keys.

Spencer was sitting on the floor outside my door, and he looked tireder and older than I’d ever seen him. He had looked up at my approach. I froze.

“Spencer.” I hadn’t seen him in a month.

He looked me up and down, and there was an unhappy tilt to his mouth. I wanted to kiss it away. He reached for the keys and rose to his feet.

“Hi.” He held them out to me, and I wanted to laugh and the eerie reflection of our first meeting.

“Hi,” I echoed.

“Were you on a date?”

There was no point in lying to him. “Yes.”

He looked away, his jaw clenching.

Silently, I unlocked the door and held it open. After a moment’s hesitation, he walked in.

He paced the floor of my living room. I took off my shoes and put my keys on the table, waiting for him to speak. I felt out of sorts and unprepared for what was to come. Even when I heard him come to a halt, I didn’t lift my gaze to meet his.

“Why would you-- I thought we had something.” His tone was heavy with accusation.

I stared back at him in challenge. “Sure. We had something. But I didn’t want to fool myself into thinking it was more than it was.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Us! You. You send me all these mixed signals, and I know you’re still hung up on someone else but I let myself get in too deep anyway. I had to protect myself.”

“I’m not hung up on someone else,” he shouted, raising his hands in frustration.

“Of course you are!” I matched his volume. “You told me so yourself.”

“When did I do that?” He sounded honestly bewildered.

“A few months ago. You said you were in love with someone but she didn’t love you back. And then I saw you with JJ that day. I know it’s her. It’s okay. You didn’t promise me anything.”

Feeling drained, I wrapped my hands around my middle. The tears were threatening to fall, but I tried to hold them at bay. This would be over soon. It all would.

“JJ--” he barked out a laugh, surprising me.

“What about this situation is funny to you?” I demanded.

“No, listen--”

“You’re hot and you’re cold. You kick me out right after our first time and then you’re sweet the next day. How do you want me to feel about that?”

“I’m sorry about-”

“Trying to talk to you is impossible! I want to help you. But you clearly don’t want to talk to me!”

“That’s not--”

“And then you’re over here all the time, and I get that it’s because you want to distract yourself, but you have to know how it would con--”

“God, would you just shut up and listen to me for once?”

I glared up at him. He was undeterred, a strange glint in his eyes.

“I love you,” he informed me, striking me dumb. “It took me a while to realise it, but it’s true. I love you.”

All I could do was gape at him as he walked closer to me and took my tightly clenched fists in his hands. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was holding back. I’m trying to be better. And I don’t know what you thought you saw between me and JJ,” he said very slowly, stroking his thumbs gently over my palms, “but all that’s there is a lot of trauma and shared experiences. Yes, I thought I loved her once, but that was a long time ago. We’ve never-- she’s not you.”

Traitorously, that tendril of hope began to coil around my heart again as I searched his face, looking for a trace of a lie.

I found none.

I surged forward, crashing my lips to his with no finesse and too much force, but he was ready for me, releasing my hands and cradling my waist instead. I gripped his hair, letting the tears spill at last, an overjoyed laugh bubbling out of my throat and into his mouth. I let my hands roam the hard plane of his body, the delicious ripple of wiry muscle beneath his shirt, the hidden softness that only I could feel.

“I love you,” I told him when we broke apart for air. “I’m glad I can tell you, I love you, I fucking love you.” Spencer grinned down at me, and the look was so fond I had to kiss him again.

The rest was a blur of hastily discarded clothes and the steadfastly ignored pain of knocking into furniture before we finally found my bed and tumbled into it.

(“All this time, I could have had you,” I groaned into his ear while he thrust his fingers into me, mouthing along my jaw.

“You have me,” he promised into my skin an eternity later, when he was inside me and my nails were scrambling for purchase along his back, my vision going white.)

That night, there were no painful confessions or taunting insecurities. There were just the two of us, blissfully entwined together, and the deepest of dreamless sleeps. Somewhere in the middle of falling out and falling back together, we had found our new rhythm.

.fin.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #mgg #matthew gray gubler

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strongerthanafork · 3 years

Text

More Than Metal

Gavin Reed x Android!Reader: Part 2

Warnings: cursing, guns, alcohol use, crime scene, blood

Part 1

Analyzing Sample…

[Analysis Complete]

Sample Contains:

Thirium 310: 96%

Blood: 2%

Human Plasma: 2%

Analyzing Thirium…

Model ID - AP400

Serial Number: #495 345 12-8

"The fuck are you doing?" Gavin interjects. (Y/N) looks over at him as she kneels at the puddle of blue blood, fingers to her lips. VN opens her mouth to speak but Gavin holds up a hand. "Y'know what? I don't wanna know." Reed scoffs walking into another room.

○ Follow Detective Reed

□ Contiune to Investigate

● Follow Detective Reed

(Y/N) stands, following Gavin from a distance. Gavin glances around the blood stained apartment. "This is so gruesome shit." He mutters. VN tilts her head.

○ Question tactics

□ Urge him to continue working

◇ Leave to investigate in another room

X Continue to follow

■ Urge him to continue working

"Detective, I believe we should collect evidence. You seem distracted." (Y/N) states, hands behind her back. Gavin glares at the android. "You don't get to order me around, plastic." He grits.

○ Question tactics

◇ Leave to investigate another room

X Contiune to follow

(Y/N) remains silent LED flashing blue. Gavin shakes his head kneeling down to inspect the floor where the victim was killed. (Y/N) stares at the blood splatter on the walls.

Analyzing Splatter…

[Information Acquired]

WEAPON: Kitchen knife

ANGLE: 43.2°

VN blinks. "The deviant was an AP400 model, a caretaker. It lived here with it's owners." Gavin looks up at (Y/N). "And how do you know that?" He ponders aloud. "I analyzed a sample of thiruim, there," She says, pointing to the floor. Gavin cringes. "That's fuckin' gross." He murmers. "The deviant was injured. It's blood was mixed with the victims, meaning, it couldn't have gotten far." (Y/N) explains. "We should proceed to the station to interrogate the survivors." She says. "I thought you said we needed to collect evidence." Gavin says, crossing his arms as he stands. "We have gathered enough information from this location." (Y/N) concludes. Gavin laughs, mockingly. "Look at you, smarty pants." Gavin teases, getting a confused blank expression from the android. "Never-fucking-mind. Let's go, dipshit." Gavin growls, walking out. (Y/N) hesitates, wanting to ask him if he was angry with her. That didn't matter. Why did she care?

Gavin walks through the automatic doors of the DPD. He heads by his terminal throwing his keys on the desktop. Hank watches the two walk back in. "Hello again, (Y/N)." Connor says, nodding at her. He smiled. VN nods at him. Androids weren't programmed to smile. Where they? "Good afternoon, Connor." She says, flatly. Hank snorts, grabbing her attention. "I fail to see what is humorous about our interaction, Lieutenant." She says, eyeing Anderson. Hank raises his hands as if he were surrendering, turning back to his computer. "Fuckin' androids." He mutters. "Would you hurry the fuck up? I don't have all day." Gavin says, impatiently tapping is foot on the floor. "Yes, detective." (Y/N) obeys. Connor's LED swirls yellow as he watches her go. "I have an unknown feeling." Connor says to Hank. "I think you may be worried, kiddo." Hank says, frowning. "And you wanna know somethin'?" Hank says, leaning towards Connor. "Me too."

Gavin huffs, slumping down in his desk chair, spinning around mindlessly. (Y/N) watches him, eyes following him as he spins. Gavin stops, glaring at her. "What did I say about the fuckin' staring, tin can?" He complains. "I apologize." VN says, looking somewhere else for his comfort. "Fuck it." Gavin announces. "I'm going home." He says, getting up from his chair. "I beleive we still have work to do, detective." VN says, her LED swirling blue. "Yeah well, Fowler can bitch at me tomorrow about it." He says, walking past her. VN quickly follows him. "I do not believe it is wise to leave your work unfinished." She says, referring to the stack of paperwork on his desk. She watches him swipe his card to clock out. He doesn't say away but holds his middle fingers up at her, with a strange expression. VN watches him exit. Her LED swirls yellow.

○ Follow Detective Reed

□ Stay at the Precinct

● Follow Detective Reed

(Y/N) walks through the automatic doors, following Gavin out to his car. Gavin glances over his shoulder, seeing her following him. He groans, stopping at his car. "What do you want?" He demands, unlocking his car. She stands on the other side of his car.

"I was assigned to help and assist you. I do not think leaving work to drink is a good idea, so I will be going with you to the bar." VN says, opening the car door and getting inside. Gavin stands there, mouth open. "Wait a damn minute." He protests, bending down to look at her sitting in the car. "You ain't doing shit! Get the fuck out." He orders. "I'm afriad I cannot comply, sir. According to your current physical and mental health, drinking alone could put you in danger." VN says, maintaining eyecontact. "Get out." Gavin says again. He wants to pull out his gun and shoot her brains out but something in him doesn't have the strength too. He's tired.

Yet another silent drive. Gavin's radio is turned up on a dangerously high level. VN isn't bothered but is worried about the effect on her partners ears. She concludes it is best to not comment, due to his recent outbursts. Gavin pulls up to Jimmy's, a local bar, and parks his car. Gavin opens the car door, putting his keys in his jacket. VN exits after locking the car doors. She walks behind the detective, deducting that he didn't want her by his side. She notices the package of cigarettes sticking out of his pocket. She assumes he has a lighter as well, somewhere on his person.

Scanning...

[Jacket Scan Complete]

FELINE HAIR:

• Burmese

• Chartreux

OTHER:

• Zippo Lighter (Sliver)

• Engraving: "Love you little bro. -Elijah"

• Cigarettes (Marlboro 12ct.)

• Car Keys (To: Camaro, Model: 2023)

• Stain - Front: Coffee (2 days old)

• Stain - Collar: Lacrimation from tear ducts

VN stops analyzing as they enter the bar. Gavin exhales, pretending he isn't being followed by a tin can. (Y/N) looks around. It's dimly lit, quiet. Music plays and it smells of alcohol, cigarettes, and cigars. She puts her hands behind her back, following Gavin to the bar. He pulls out a stool, hopping on top. A bartender, assumed to be Jimmy, saunters over to her partner. VN stands close to a wall, analyzing every detail of the bar. "Hey, kid." Jimmy says to Gavin. VN attempts to give Gavin privacy with the bartender but can't exactly turn off her sensors. " 'Sup." Gavin sighs, leaning against the bar. Jimmy chuckles, glancing at the out of place android against the wall. "That yours?" He teases, gesturing to (Y/N). "Don't give me that, J." Gavin scoffs. Jimmy laughs, boisterously. Gavin can't help but smile a little. Jimmy was pretty cool and he gave great philosophical advice.

"Watcha want to drink, son?" Jimmy asks, turning to the wall of drinks. "Brandy on the rocks." Gavin says, pulling out his box of cigarettes and his lighter. Jimmy sighs. "Rough day, huh." He says, pouring his drink. (Y/N) watches carefully. She started to get an unknown sensation across multiple sensors in her being. She scanned herself for malfunction or errors. Nothing. VN tilts her head to herself. What was that sensation? It wasn't an error or a malfunction? Possibly a glitch. She shakes it off watching the detective. The sensation returns. She attempts to flush her systems, but it remains. She ignores it, concluding it was a glitch. "You can say that again." Gavin says. Jimmy slides him his drink watching him closely. "You look tired, kiddo." Jimmy comments, leaning against the other side of the countertop. Gavin chuckles. "Everyone says that. I'm fine, J." Gavin lies. "C'mon, Gavin. Talk to me. It's a slow night." Jimmy pries. Gavin sighs, lighting the cigarette between his fingers. He raises it to his lips, taking a drag. He looks down at his drink.

VN glances around the room, unintentionally listening. The sensation had left. She wasn't alive. She couldn't feel. It was a simple glitch. "It's been hard without him." Gavin says, taking a sip of his brandy. This peaks VN's intrest. "I know. You seem to care about him a lot." Jimmy responds. He must know more than she knows about the situation. Gavin glances at the android that accompanied him, downing his drink. Jimmy sighs again. "Is that thing givin' you trouble?" He asks, grabbing the glass to refill it. Gavin takes another drag of his cigarette. "Yeah it is. Fuckin' Fowler assigned it to me or whatever." Gavin says, words full of spite. VN feels the sensation return. Her LED blinks yellow.

Analyzing...

[Analysis Complete]

Malfunction?

[Access Denied]

(Y/N) blinks, LED pulsing red. She straightens her posture, ignoring the sensation, yet again. Jimmy nods, following Gavin's story. Gavin takes a swig of his drink again. "You two get along?" Jimmy asks, tapping on the counter behind him. "Fuck no." Gavin snickers. Jimmy smiles, almost sadly. "The things been following me around like a dog. Gets on my fuckin' nerves." Gavin sighs, finishing his second glass. (Y/N) notes his blood alcohol content. Jimmy grins at the detective. "Maybe she's there to help you. Ever thought about it that way?" J asks, grabbing his empty glass again, pausing. "Oh, that's utter bullshit. Don't side with them, Jimmy." Gavin spits, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray on the bar. "I'm only sayin', maybe it's there for a reason, kid. You look like shit. It could help you, y'know." Jimmy shrugs, filling his glass again. Gavin snorts, feeling the buzz kick it. "Thanks, J. How nice." Gavin teases. "Give it a chance, Gav." Jimmy pushes. "No way in hell am I trusting a piece of plastic." Gavin argues, gladly accepting his third drink. (Y/N) decides to step in. "Detective," She starts. "Fuck off." Gavin grits, waving his hand at her. Jimmy watches the two. "I beleive you've had enough." She states, hands behind her back still. "This is only my third so fuck off." Gavin growls. He usually had a better alcohol tolerance but not today.

"Your BAC is nine point two and increasing. This can impair your judgement and functioning." (Y/N) says. Gavin laughs. "You're not my babysitter, tin can." He says, lifting the glass to his lips. VN snatches the glass out of his hand, putting it on the bar. "What the fuck?" Gavin hollers, clambering out of his chair, almost falling in the process. "The alcohol had already taken affect, impairing your vital judgment. It is time to leave, sir." (Y/N) says, sternly. Her LED blinks yellow, analyzing his next move. Gavin reaches for his gun, which VN anticipated. She reaches forwards, knocking the gun out of his hands. "Hey, hey, hey!" Jimmy shouts. "No blood on my floor!" He says. A few people have formed a crowd around Gavin and the android. "Detective, we are leaving." (Y/N) says, picking his gun off the floor and pocketing it. "You fuckin' piece of shit," Gavin slurs. "You think you came come in and- and fuckin' steal my job, huh?" He raises his voice, grabbing her by her uniform again. (Y/N) looks down at him. She notes the pain, evident behind is glassy eyes.

○ Let Detective Reed continue

□ Render Detective Reed unconscious

■ Render Detective Reed unconscious

"Detective, I apologize, but this is for your own good." She says, gaining a confused look from Gavin. She presses her fingers into the point where his neck and shoulder meet. Gavin crumbles to the ground, (Y/N) catching him before he hits the ground. VN wraps his limp arm over her shoulders, hoisting him up. "I apologize, sir." She says to Jimmy. "Eh, don't worry about it. His drinks were on the house anyway." Jimmy says, waving her off. "Take care of him, okay?" Jimmy says. (Y/N)'s thiruim pump falters for a moment, catching her off guard. She scans herself again, not finding anything wrong. The crowd had disappeared, seeing that there would be no fight. She gives Jimmy at curt nod before bascially dragged her partner out the door.

(Y/N) had successfully put Gavin in the passenger seat, starting his car. She pulls out into the road. She had located the detective's apartment, following the coordinates. Once she arrives, Gavin is still unconscious. She drags him out of the car. It would be easier to carry him in her arms, so she does. Walking up several flights of stairs, she reaches his apartment door. She glances down at the keys on his key ring and then at the lock, analyzing the differnt key prongs and the internal structure of the lock. She selects the correct key, unlocking the door. Several cats, greet her at the door. A Burmese and a Chartreux cat. They purr and meow at her as she closes the door. (Y/N) scans the apartment. It's quite messy. The trash seems as if it hasn't been taken out in weeks, pizza boxes litter the counter and differnt files and papers litter the living room. (Y/N) contiunes, walking into Gavin's bedroom. Clothes cover the floor, along with an unmade bed. She sets her partner in the bed. She surveys the room again, finding the comforter on the ground. She nods to herself.

(Y/N) carefully removes his jacket, hanging it on a hook behind his bedroom door. She covers him with the comforter, studying him. He seems peaceful. His face, relaxed. No tension is held between is eyebrows. She tilts her head, reaching towards his face. There it is. The strange sensation in her sensors. She gently brushes his hair out of his eyes, almost mesmerized by how peaceful he is, compared to when he's consious. (Y/N) quickly pulls away as he rolls over in the bed, grunting in his sleep. She looks around his room again. It was very unorganized. She walks over to his half empty dresser, pushing the folded clothes back in order. She closes the drawers, gently. VN then, straightens the differnt colognes and pictures frames on his dresser. One catches her eyes. A picture of, what she assumes is Gavin as a teen, and another male. She tilts her head, the male seeming familiar. She straightens the frame, ignoring it.

VN picks up the dirty clothes off the floor, placing them in the hamper in the corner of Gavin's room. She could see the floor now. She turns off the lamp on his nightstand, straightening the things on top if it as well. She looks around the mostly clean room, leaving Gavin's room. She then drags the overflowing laundry basket out of his room. She closes the door behind her, seeing his cats staring at her. She looks down at the Burmese one as it rubs against her leg. She watches them pad off into another room. (Y/N) looks down the short hallway seeing the bathroom. She peeks inside. It was spotless. Strange. She walks into an empty room, what she assumes to be a guest room. It holds nothing. She walks out, going back to the main living room. Papers, magazines, files, newspapers. You name it. She grabs the file box in the couch, picking up all the papers and files, organizing them alphabetically. It took all but thirty minutes an twenty seconds. She puts the file box beside the couch. She puts all of the magazines and newspapers neatly on the coffee table. She picks up all of the empty and half empty coffee mugs, placing them softly in the sink. She would load his dishwasher later.

(Y/N) straightens his crooked TV on the wall. She then proceeds to organize his movies by type, then alphabetically. The living room was finished. She clicks on the lamp, closing the curtains. The sun was setting outside. It was six twenty-two. Androids didn't need sleep but she decided that when she finishes she would enter low-power mode to pass the time. She heads to the kitchen. It was filthy. (Y/N)'s LED circles blue. She grabs all of the dishes that were dirty and puts them neatly in the dishwasher. She puts the soap in, turning it on. She grabs a trash bag, placing the numerous empty pizza boxes inside. She empties the trash putting the bags by the front door. The cats come back in, hearing her working. "Hello." (Y/N) says, kneeling beside the cats. She looks at their collars. Coco and Bean. Who knew the detective liked cats, owned them, and gave them matching names. (Y/N) stands, beginning to wipe down the countertops, that were dusty and covering in crumbs. She puts the leftover pizza that wasn't old or moldy in the almost empty refrigerator. She rolls up her jacket sleeves disinfecting the grime in the sink. She notices his landlines blinking on the counter. She lets the chemical sit in the sink, walking over to the phone. Twenty new messages from the same number with the name Eli. She concludes it would be best to leave them be.

(Y/N) had loaded the washing machine with Gavin's dirty clothes. She had taken the towel from the dryer and folded them neatly, placing them in the linen closet. She rinses the sink next. Spotless. The apartment looked organized and neat. Nothing like the detective from the outside. It was currently twelve forty three. She blinks, hearing the dishwasher stop. She unloads it putting the coffe mugs, plates and utensils back in their respective places. Ealier, she had hauled the trash down to the dumpster behind the apartment complex. She was satisfied with the outcome.

(Y/N) completed all of the detective's laundry leaving it neatly folded ontop of the washer and dryer. She didn't want to disturb his slumber by putting away his clothes. She was finished. VN puts the detective's gun in a drawee in the kitchen. She walks over to the couch, sitting down. The cats jumps up, one testing in her lap and the other lying down beside her. She was interested in why the cats liked her so much. She'd have to research it later. She decided to enter low-power mode.

Low-Power Mode Loading...

[Entering Low-Power Mode]

3...

2...

1...

-LOW-POWER MODE ON-

taglist

@sweet-sage-tea, @bts17army

#gavin my beloved #gavin reed x reader #gavin reed #detroit become human #connor rk800 #hank anderson #hank and connor #dbh fic #x reader

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svchengss · 3 years

Text

hey barista! | l.dh

summary | befriending the barista from your local cafe doesn’t seem too bad

pairing | lee donghyuck x fem!reader ft. jaemin who’s a rlly cute side character in this :(

genre | fluff, angst, slight humour (?)

warnings | a kiss?? i don’t think there’s any but if i missed anything do lmk !!

word count | 3k+

s. tg | @hyuckefi [my apologies since i didn’t release a proper teaser for this 🙏🏻]

author’s note | this is my first fic exceeding 1k words so if u enjoyed reading this, please leave some feedbacks !! rb’s are also appreciated :D ALSO I SUCK AT SUMMARIES LMAO PLS IGNORE THAT

just another day of working at palm coffee, the same old routine. cleaning the countertop and tables before opening up the cafe, prepping the ingredients - more for top favourites! - and examining the machines to make sure they’re working properly. that’s some of hyuck’s daily routines as a barista. he didn’t mind them though, he loved his job. he couldn’t specify the reason why but all these tasks are genuinely interesting to him.

seeing you drop by the cafe is a normal occurrence for him. since you are a regular customer after all, the rest of the staff already know you well. heck, they’re even good friends with you. jaemin hangs out with you more than he does despite being jaemin’s childhood friend. except for him, he doesn’t really know why. he’s not really shy, considering the fact that he’s a social butterfly. he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything to you, the only times he did so was to take your orders when the rest of the workers were busy in the store.

upon hearing the doorbell chime which signals a new customer entering the cafe, hyuck blurted out the usual line. “hello, welcome to palm coffee! how can i help-“, looking up from the cash register only to find you in a disheveled state. “-you?” he eyes you up and down, noting how a few strands of your hair were out of place, the nude lipstick smeared on the left corner of your mouth and your outfit looks really rushed.

“sorry, what was your name again, hyuck right?” you quickly glanced at the nametag hanging nicely on his apron. “i’m in a rush right now, can i get a,” you scanned over the menu behind him, “uh, white coffee, please?”.

“that will be six dollars. you can use the restroom in the meantime to, you know, touch up your makeup and stuff,” he takes the bills from your hand, putting them in the machine in front of him before flashing you with that warm smile of his. you wished him a quick thanks before disappearing into the back of the place.

now that was embarrassing.

your eyes scanned over the hall to find your friend before hearing her shout your name from across. damn, why does she have to be so loud? stares were directed towards you as you walked up the stairs to your designated seat. all the chatter going on in the lecture hall became quiet as soon as your professor placed her things on the desk, which means class has started.

after hearing a two-hour lecture and writing some notes - where suddenly song lyrics and scribbles appear - the words you’ve been waiting to hear finally echoed through the speakers.

“class is dismissed, thank you everyone for listening,” mrs. hui’s voice later being flushed out by the buzzing voices of the students walking out the hall, determined to finish their own activities. you stuffed your ipad and papers into your light yellow jansport backpack before going out to meet vic who’s waiting for you outside.

“i’m exhausted, what did she even teach just now?” vic sighed to her heart’s content. you can’t blame her, today’s topic was quite complicated. circuits analysis or something? you can’t really wrap your head around it, your brain being stuffed with all the information. vic kept on ranting about the problems she faced from the moment she woke up, making you giggle at some comments she made.

“wait for me, i’m almost done,” he folded his apron neatly before shoving it into the drawer and grabbing his bag from the counter to join jaemin, who’s waiting at the front door with the keycard. hyuck accepted jaemin’s request to help him with some shopping for his sister’s birthday party next week. obviously, the rest of the staff were also invited.

jaemin divided the shopping list into two, allowing hyuck to find the rest of the things with ease.

“now where are the streamers…” he muttered out loud enough for himself to hear, crouching down to browse through the party decorations on the shelf. or he thought so, as you could hear him sighing clearly in dire need of the certain decoration, that you decided to help him out.

“um, hyuck? i think the party streamers are in the aisle beside this one? you look a bit troubled there,” you chuckled lightly. the heat flushed to his cheeks, feeling dumbfounded.

“really? uh, thank you for the help,” he gave you a small grin that could hardly be seen if you didn’t spot the corner of his lips. and with that, he’s long gone with his shopping basket.

you are fond of the atmosphere you’re in right now. the decorations left you in awe - white and pink silk hanging from the wall with silver letter balloons spelling out happy birthday stitched onto them. you can see jaemin’s sister, eun-ji, being carried out of her room with a small flowy white dress and wearing a golden bow on her head, her brunette hair being tied into ponytails. the na family really adore their youngest girl.

meanwhile, there are only a couple of adults your age attending the party - jaemin’s co-workers, some of his other friends which you aren’t familiar with and hyuck. he looked rather chill, with an oversized beige sweater and white jeans to suit the party’s theme. you’re not quite bad as well, your hair combed nicely and kept neat with a headband, a white sundress with strawberry patterns on it fit nicely on your figure, complemented with a heart-locket necklace placed on your collarbones. before reaching jaemin’s house, you made sure to drop by a local store to get some gifts for eun-ji. she’s a very well-mannered kid which made you adore her very much.

“y/n? very glad to see you here,” hyuck said as he approached you, offering you a plate of cake which he cut.

“i could say the same to you too, mr. lee,” you let out a soft laugh. he made sure to keep a mental note over how pretty you looked today.

“y/n, hyuck! glad you two broke the ice, did you know how hurt i was seeing you two act like strangers whenever y/n came by the cafe?” jaemin enveloping you into a small hug before fake pouting. you can only laugh at the fake debate the two guys in front of you were having. after conversing with hyuck and jaemin for quite some time, you realised that he’s a cool person to talk to, where all this time, you thought he hated you for some reason. before leaving, you made sure to thank mrs. na for hosting the party and off you went home.

following the previous encounters, hyuck felt much more comfortable around you - even hanging out with you during his shift where you would do your assignments at the cafe he’s working at. every now and then, he would also invite you to hang out with him and jaemin. however, what he didn’t realise was how he slowly pent up feelings - romantically.

ding dong!

he pressed on the doorbell button with a box of doughnuts in his left hand. the three of you were supposed to be having a movie night, but jaemin got caught up with his groupwork which leaves the two of you alone.

“hey hyuck! come in,” you gestured, arranging the cushions on your sofa to make it look more organized. the interior of your rented apartment is calming, the light grey walls suiting the navy blue sofa and furniture with darker undertones. the walls are also not left empty, with modern art portraits hanging from it.

“i brought donuts, your favourite, right?” he opened the box, placing it on the coffee table while you set up the television. you wished him a quick thank you before grabbing two canned drinks from the refrigerator, handing one to him and pressing play on the remote control. you two weren’t quiet throughout the whole movie, with snarky comments on how hot the actors were or how stupid they were being were made.

he didn’t know you were sleepy though as all of a sudden, he could feel the weight of your head on top of his shoulder. it was a rather awkward situation as he didn’t move at all so you could sleep comfortably. before long, he joined you and dozed off to wonderland. the next morning, you were more than embarrassed to find yourself cuddling up to him, with the next movie still playing on the screen.

seeing your figure outside the front door made hyuck more excited to greet you today. after making a quick order for a green tea latte, you fished out your purse from your handbag, feeling frantic if you’ve lost it outside. luckily, you were the only customer in line as the rest of them were already seated and carrying out their own businesses.

“sorry, but i think this might be yours,” you turned around to find a tall-looking guy handing out your black purse. a wave of relief washed over your soul, thanking the latter profusely.

“mind if i buy you a drink? i hate feeling like i owe someone,” you offered, which he gladly accepted.

“i’d like a double espresso, please,” he kept his hands into his pockets.

“and your name, sir?” hyuck looked mildly bothered.

“yukhei,” he ran his slightly blonde hair through the slender fingers. hyuck hated how cocky he looked, feeling more annoyed than ever over the scene that was played in front of him just now. he hated how yukhei looked at you.

why should he get jealous? he’s just a mere friend to you, that’s all. you have to stop overreacting, hyuck.

those words kept running through his mind all day.

“dude, are you okay? you looked-” jaemin opened the staff room, interrupting him from the self-talk he was having, “-distracted,” finishing up his sentence.

“nope, i’m just fine,” he said, bringing the honey smile back onto his face. jaemin nodded before disappearing back to the front to serve the customers.

stop being so jealous, hyuck. you’re just a friend. not more, not less.

“jaemin, how do you know if you like someone?” that question is kind of shocking to him, especially if it’s coming from hyuck. of course, he’s had a crush before but it was during middle school. just a silly, little crush. growing up, he’s never had one - not even in high school.

“you’ve asked the right person,” jaemin managed to do his obnoxious voice, even while driving the car. he’s right, he is the matchmaker of the friend group, just how many relationships worked out because of him? eyes still focused on the road - he’s a responsible driver of course, he began to explain the feeling to hyuck, making his points loud and clear.

“first of all, you start feeling a little too happy whenever you’re around them. and no, this is not the oh-we’re-best-friends-forever type of happy, it’s the i’ll-make-you-the-happiest-person-on-earth one. not to forget, you will also experience some kind of turbulence in your heart, expect them to be jumping around a bit. or a lot, whichever suits you the best.

you also tend to feel nervous around that person. like, stuttering your words in obvious or non-obvious ways, feeling faster heartbeats than usual, you name it. oh! if you’ve ever felt jealous whenever they are around someone else, i mean, in affectionate ways, you might have one. however, my tip is for you not to act out of your mind. you don’t want to ruin whatever relationship you have currently, do you?” even when driving, he still managed to deliver his points with full precision and accuracy.

nodding his head, hyuck took some mental notes to be thought through when he gets home.

hyuck stared at you, whose figure is snoring soundly on his lap. he assumed you must be feeling exhausted, mid-terms just ended after all. while threading his fingers through your hair, he remembered what jaemin said to him weeks earlier.

1. being happy around them

like jaemin said, it is normal to be happy around your friends. but being with you, it kind of gave more joy for him. not to mention that he started to catch himself smiling over your texts and being reminded of you over small things - your favorite donut topping, the name of that one stray puppy you gave.

2. feeling nervous around them

his heart would beat a lot faster whenever you get closer towards him, whether accidentally or to mess with him.

3. getting jealous over someone else

he shouldn’t be jealous of how yukhei looked at you. but he seriously can’t help it. and the way he’s always there during your hangouts. he doesn’t care if he seems petty, yukhei just isn’t in his favour.

his deep thoughts came to a halt when you called out his name, eyes still half-closed, attempting to open them a bit more.

“did i interrupt you or something? gosh, i’m so sorry,” you quickly stood up but he pulls your body back onto his lap, asking for you to stay.

“what are we?” that question caught you off-guard. the same one that has been at debate in the back of your mind these days.

i don’t know hyuck, it’s complicated.

“what do you think we are, hyuck?” you shot the question back at him, your gaze piercing through his soul.

“i don’t know. it’s just-”

“are you sure?” a deep sigh left your lips. have you been interpreting his body languages wrong? did he only see you as a normal friend, nothing more?

“sorry, i’m not feeling well. see you later hyuck, bye,” you tried your best to shoot the sweet smile of yours but only a faint one seemed to appear. once you stepped out of the room, he buried his face into his hands.

god, what have i done?

“don’t feel too down, y/n. maybe there’s something more that he couldn’t bring himself to say?” vic suggested, handing you some tissue.

“i don’t know, i seriously have no idea. why can’t he just say it?” you continued to sob into her arms, she pitied you, especially in your condition right now. but she can’t do anything to help you, other than consoling and listening.

jaemin knew something was wrong, from your rare visits to the cafe to hyuck not being himself lately. something was definitely wrong and it’s between the both of you. sure, hyuck might be saying that he’s fine again and again, but his expressions can’t lie. the sweet smile of his is long gone and his jokes are no longer heard. whatever it is, jaemin is determined to solve it. he just wants his best friends back.

looks of dismay can be read all over hyuck’s face when the person facing him is no other than the guy himself, yukhei. still, he tried to control his composure, not making his inner feelings any more obvious.

“so what brings you here?” he took a sip of the mineral water, still making his throat rough from the tension hanging in the air.

“look, i’m not here for any fights. i know you like y/n, everybody can see it. and honestly, you were oblivious to your own feelings,” he rubbed his hands together. the latter’s puzzled face made him continue his words.

“i’m not trying to make her like me, or whatever you’ve been assuming. sorry if i gave the wrong message but you are the one who should make a move. i can see from the way she looks at you, the feelings are mutual,” he straightened up the denim jacket outside the white shirt wrapping his figure.

letting out a heavy sigh, hyuck’s face begins to soften up. “no, i should be the one who’s sorry. i’ve been such a prick to everyone around me lately, especially you,” he took of the cap from his head, messing up his hair.

“no problem, bro. it’s understandable, i guess. now good luck with her, please treat her well,” the two guys exchanged a fist bump for the problem solved. jaemin leaned his back against the wall, smiling and feeling satisfied.

you called out jaemin’s name but to no avail. he invited you to his apartment but seeing that the lights are out, it’s clear enough that he hasn’t finished whatever he was doing yet. just as you were about to leave, you saw hyuck at the other side of it, both your faces mirroring the same look of confusion.

“so, uh, how have you been doing these days? it’s been a while since we talked,” he chose to break the silence. now, you two were sitting facing each other by the balcony. inhaling the breeze, you paused for a moment before responding to his question.

“i’ve been feeling, not as usual. definitely not happy but not that sad,” you pushed some of the loose hair strands hanging on your forehead behind your ears before asking about his.

“you know what, i’m just going to be direct with you. i, lee donghyuck have been holding feelings for you since i don’t know when. yeah sure, i wasn’t really sure at first about what i was going through. i guess i was just scared of how you would react,” he scratched his ears which are not feeling itchy at all, but rather an attempt to distract himself from the overwhelming emotions deep inside him.

not wanting to waste time any longer, you placed your right hand onto his cheek, standing on the heels of your feet to bring your two lips together. the kiss was short before he pulls you back in for another, this time a more passionate one. he could feel you smile against his lips before enveloping your body into his arms.

“i’ve missed you, you know?” he whispered, his voice tender, directing right into your ears before you replied with how you missed him more. the both of you continued to whisper sweet nothings while embracing each other’s presence.

jaemin looked at the both of you from a distance, his heart swelling with pride.

— another pair of lovers matched, cupid jaemin signing out.

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

Anything for You

So, I got this idea in my head and I wrote it. This is not the first thing I’ve written, but the first that I finished. And the first that I’m posting. Sorry if it sucks. I hope someone out there likes it. Italics indicate past memories.

Summary: This takes place after Maeve. It sort of starts a month before Spencer goes back to work but then skips a year. Reader is the newest member of the BAU. Spencer lashes out when she tries to help him, but he doesn’t realize how much she can relate to his trauma.

warnings: angst but also a little fluff, typical CM violence (kidnapping, torture, death etc.), dark thoughts about dying, I think that’s it

Word Count: 6218

It is moments like this that make you rethink every decision that lead you here. You are on the jet on the way back to Quantico after a particularly rough case. The team managed to save the most recent victim, but only to discover three more hidden on the unsubs property. And to make it worse, they were children. Everyone on the team keeps shooting you concerned glances, worried that you might break. It’s only fair. You are still the newbie.

You started at the BAU one month ago to the day. Your previous position was a desk job, but you were ready to get back into field after two years of endless paperwork. Not that the entire team knows you had been in the field before. Only Hotch knows. You don’t like to talk about it. You had gone so far as to cut Hotch off to prevent him from bringing it up on your first day.

You are counting down the floors with each beep as the elevator rises to bring you to the floor that houses the Behavioral Analysis Unit. To say you aren’t nervous would be a lie, but that comes with the territory of starting a new job. Especially a job with one of the most elite units of the FBI. It’s hard not to be intimidated.

The elevator doors slide open, revealing the all too familiar glass doors that lead to the BAU. When you were trying to decide if switching career paths was the right decision, you found yourself staring at these doors far more than you’d care to admit.

You walk through the doors, immediately heading for Hotch’s office. He told you to meet him there first thing this morning. You knock on the open door to draw his attention.

“Agent L/N, please come in.” He looks up from the file he has open on his desk.

“Agent Hotchner, I would just like to thank you again for the position.” You have to stop yourself before you ramble on about how grateful you are for his taking a chance on you.

“Please, call me Hotch. You’re new ID was just dropped off.” He says, handing you the plastic card to put in your credentials. You take a moment to admire the way your name looks just above the words “Behavioral Analysis Unit” before sliding it into the wallet.

“I wish we had time for a more thorough welcoming, but we just got a case. I’ll introduce you to the team in the conference room.” He rises from his desk, you following behind him to a room already full of profilers. Of course, you already know of them all, but the introductions are nice nonetheless.

“L/N, these are SSAs Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, and Jennifer Jureau and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.” You shake hands with each member of the team as there name is called. “Team, this is SSA Y/N L/N. She transferred from violent crimes-” You know he is going to bring up your previous field work, so you cut him off.

“It’s an honor to meet you all.” You smiled at Hotch, trying your best to get him to move on. Thankfully, you can see in his eye that he understands why you don’t want to relieve your past field experience.

“Actually, that’s not all. Dr. Reid is on leave at the moment, but you’ll meet him when he returns.” You nod, taking a seat next to Derek. “Garcia, you can start now.”

The memory fades and you try to ignore the concerned glances from everyone on the jet. Yes, you were the one to find the children in the back shed, but you have techniques to handle this. You’ve always been good at compartmentalizing. It comes with the territory of undercover work.

You are more concerned with the wellbeing of one Dr. Reid. This is the first case you’ve worked with him, but it still feels like something’s off. Granted, you don’t know why he was on leave or how long it lasted.

After everyone else is asleep, barring Hotch who is too focused on his reports to pay you any attention, you slide down into the seat across from Spencer. He doesn’t even glance up from his book.

“Dr. Reid?” You can tell he’s stopped reading at the sound of your voice, but it takes him a moment to actually look up at you. When he does, you can see the sadness in his eyes.

“L/N. Are you okay?” Of course he would ask you that. You’ve known him for all of 72 hours, but he’s still concerned about you’re wellbeing. The way your heart flutters at the sentiment catches you off guard.

“Oh, um, I’m fine. I actually wanted to check on you.” He looks startled at that, but you just push forward. “I know we only just met, and I have no idea what you’re going through, but I just thought maybe I could help.” You can see the instant you finished talking that it was a mistake. He is clearly not ready to talk about his demons, especially with a near stranger.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ “No, you shouldn’t have.” His words are defensive more than anything. The words of someone who just went through unbelievable pain “You couldn’t possibly help me. Unless, of course, you’ve been kidnapped, tortured, and drugged, shot multiple times, and witnessed the love of your life being murdered in front of you just to name a few. I’m sure you have plenty of experience with that given your work in violent crimes.” The sarcasm is obvious, with violent crimes being a desk job. He mistakes the tears that spring to your eyes as pity rather than understanding. He scoffs, going back to his book while you wander back to your previous seat, trying to control your emotions.

Spencer doesn’t know about your time undercover. He doesn’t know you experienced all of those things. He doesn’t know about the scars that line your torso or the more prevalent scars on your heart. You try not to take it personally. You’ve had years to deal with your trauma. His is clearly newer. You tell yourself over and over that he’s not angry with you, but with the world. You just happened to be the first available outlet.

When the others wake up, they assume your red eyes are due to the case. That you are finally breaking down after a month on the job. They offer words of encouragement and promises to be there if you need to talk. They stress how you aren’t alone. They all know how you feel. You simply nod, gathering your things before heading home. You can’t help but think there is one of them who knows exactly what is going through your head. It’s the first time you’ve cried over Cameron in three months, the last time being the anniversary of his death.

-------

The next year at the BAU flies by. You actually feel like part of the family, knowing you could talk to any member of the team when you need a friend. Well, almost any member of the team. You and Spencer didn’t click the way everyone thought you would. Ever since the conversation on the plane, you hold back when you’re with him. It’s not that you two avoid each other. You’re just more like coworkers than family. You converse when you need to, but don’t seek each other out.

Nobody understands why. Hotch especially thought the two of you would become close. You can see why he would think so. From your brief encounters with Spencer, you can tell he’s been through hell. Hotch was probably hopeful the two of you might bond over shared trauma, act as an anchor for each other to know you aren’t alone. Of course that required you to share your trauma with the team, which definitely has not happened.

It’s not that you don’t trust them. It’s just that the moment hasn’t provided itself yet. First of all, you can’t just casually bring up being kidnapped and tortured for government secrets with your fiancé who was then murdered in front of you. Second of all, something in you says it would crush Spencer. You can tell he clearly still feels bad about what he said to you that day.

You two hadn’t talked about it. It was a year later, and you still hadn’t talked about it. You would think he forgot, but he does have a rather prolific memory. Everything was fine though. Mostly. He still seemed nervous around you. Or maybe you were projecting. There is something about Dr. Reid…

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” You were honestly surprised to hear Spencer’s voice saying those six words. Everyone else had already gone home, even Hotch. You just wanted to finish one more file.

“Of course, what’s up?” You try desperately to sound casual, to pretend like you weren’t just thinking about him. Despite not talking to Spencer all that often, you still have a massive amount of respect for him. Watching him work is incredible. You would expect most people with his intelligence to come off as cocky, but he is somehow still so humble.

“I just wanted to apologize. For what I said on the jet. I was in a bad place, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have said those things, you were just trying to help me, and I threw it back in your face. Also, I’m sorry it took me so long to actually apologize. I just felt so awful, I didn’t know how to bring it up and the longer I waited the more nervous I became and” “Spencer,” he looked startled at the sound of his name. Granted, you normally call him Dr. Reid or Reid when you’re feeling more casual, but still. It’s his name, why is he so surprised you’re using it? “You didn’t do anything wrong. Trust me. You were dealing with an amount of grief nobody should have to go through. I shouldn’t have tried to step in without knowing more about the situation. I’m sorry.” This is your chance. Tell him what happened to you. Come clean about it all.

He just looks so… relieved. As if you had lifted a weight off his shoulder just by telling him you understood he didn’t mean it. Seeing the hope in his eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to put any of that weight back on him. He had just freed himself, he doesn’t need your problems weighing him back down.

You can tell he still feels bad, but maybe now the two of you can try to move on. Maybe you’ll actually become friends. Telling him that you have indeed been through all of those things would just bring all that guilt back. For some reason, there is nothing you would rather do than protect Spencer Reid from pain.

So, you’ve resigned yourself to never telling anyone unless you absolutely had to. You convinced yourself it was a secret you could take to the grave. Nobody needed to know.

Until one day, they do. And that day happens to be tomorrow.

“Hello, crime fighters. This one is a doozey.” Penelope walked into the round table room and immediately jumped into the case. “Three heterosexual couples in Plano, Texas have been killed. The details are on your tablets. Be warned, it is not a pretty sight. All the victims were tortured. The men all died of blood loss. The women were drowned after multiple non fatal gunshot wounds and other various forms of torture.” You tensed ever so slightly at the description of the crimes. Hotch shot you a concerned glance, but you waved him off with a slight shake of your head. You zoned out for the rest of Garcia’s description, deciding instead to focus on every detail you could learn from the case files on your tablet.

“Wheels up in 20.” Hotch’s voice drew you from your focus on the files. “Y/N?” You looked at him from your seat at the table, realizing everyone else had already left. “If this is too much for you, everyone would understand.” You stand, plastering the fakest smile Hotch has ever seen on your face.

“I appreciate the concern, but there is a job to do. And I intend to do it.” There is no malice behind your words. Only a fierce determination to catch this unsub before he can hurt anyone else.

“Alright, but Y/N, please. Let me know if you need to talk about it. The whole team is here for you.” You features soften into a genuine smile before you respond.

“Thank you, Hotch.” And with that, you exit the room. You grab your go bag, meeting the other agents by the elevator.

The flight to Texas is long enough that the team’s discussion doesn’t prevent everyone from catching up on sleep. While everyone else is resting, preparing to start up again on the ground with fresh eyes, you are pouring over every detail again and again. You just need to know if it’s the same people. The same people who killed your fiancé. The same people who tortured you.

It was a day like any other. You had just gotten to the bar you were working at as a cover. Cameron was working security, you as a bartender. The mission was supposed to be simple.

There was a domestic terrorist cell operating just outside of Plano in Addison, TX. The leader was believed to own the very bar you had gotten a job in. You were supposed to gather intelligence, and report back. You weren’t supposed to engage with the terrorist cell. It was a simple mission.

That day, the day you could never forget, started exactly how you expected it to. The leader was supposed to be meeting with his right hand. You were supposed to learn who or what they were planning to target. You still can’t pinpoint the moment you knew something was wrong.

Everything was normal when you clocked in. Everything was normal when you served you first few customers. Everything as normal when you walked up to the table hosting the meeting and asked if you could get them anything. Everything was normal until it wasn’t.

You remember waking up in a warehouse. Cameron was tied to a chair across from you. He was injured, bleeding from a cut in his side. It didn’t look that bad, but there was so much blood. How could such a small cut produce so much blood?

You had a million questions, but couldn’t form the words to ask them. You’re mouth felt like it was full of cotton. Cameron looked at you as if he knew something you didn’t. You suppose he did, given that he was awake before you. But that’s not what concerned you the most. No, it was the look of pure terror in his eyes. Pure terror, mixed with… resignation? That doesn’t make sense. Why would he be giving up?

Finally gathering enough strength to speak, you mumble “What happened?”

“Y/N… they know who we are. I don’t know how they figured it out, but they did. They are going to hurt me to get to you. You can’t let them, okay? Stay strong. Everything will be fine.” His words are rushed. You have a hard time following them, as if the words drift into the air, only to enter your head in a different order.

Before you have a chance to ask any more questions, you hear a door swing open behind you. You can hear the footsteps, but can’t turn around enough to see who they belong to.

“Do it.” You know that voice. You know you know it, but you can’t place it.

A man appears from your left. He stands in front of you, a mask covering his face so you can only see his eyes. “Let’s have some fun.” You’re ready for him to hit you. Or cut you. Or hurt you in any way. What you’re not ready for is him pulling a knife only to walk over to Cameron.

“No” The word is barely there. You aren’t even sure you said it out loud.

“Y/N, don’t tell them anything. Okay? I’ll be fine.” Cameron is looking at you with pleading eyes. You both know he’s lying.

“Your fiancé here is a liar.” The man sneers, dragging his knife down Cameron’s arm. “He will most certainly not be fine.” With that, the man plunges the knife into Cameron’s stomach. A gut wrenching scream leaves his mouth as the man moves the knife around inside his body. You try to control your reaction, but tears instantly spring to your eyes.

“Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll leave your man alone.” There’s no point. Cameron would never forgive you if you gave up information to the enemy. He’s always been a loyal soldier. Either way, deep down you know he won’t live much longer. He’s lost too much blood. You are going to have to watch the man you love die. He’s going to bleed out in front of you. And there’s nothing you can do about it.

You are shaken back to reality after the jet has landed. You slowly come to, realizing you must have fallen asleep while you were looking at the files. You can’t get the eyes out of your head now. The last time you had a nightmare was 6 months ago. Although, this was more of a memory than the usual nightmares you have.

“Y/N/N? You good?” Morgan is looking at you with concern that hasn’t been there since your first month on the job.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just groggy.” You try to laugh it off, walking past him and jumping into an SUV. You’re supposed to go with Hotch to the precinct to set up, so you can avoid the rest of the team’s questions for now.

You bury your head in the files again, trying to discern if anything feels off or if it is all too similar to be a coincidence.

“Just answer the question. This will all be over.” Cameron is dead. You are staring at his lifeless body as the man tries to torture you to get the answers he wants.

With all the strength you can muster up, you spit at him. “I didn’t break before and I won’t break now. Do what you want to me. You’ll never get your answers.” “Oh everyone’s got a breaking point. I’ll find yours.” With that, he storms passed you and out of the room.

You try to inventory the damage he’s done, but it’s hard because he typically drugs you when he leaves. You’re too disoriented to remember everything. You haven’t heard anything else from the first voice, but you finally realized it was the owner of the bar.

You are just about to drift back into unconsciousness when you hear a loud crash from somewhere in the building. You expect the masked man to come running back into the room, but instead you’re greeted with the face of the terrorist cell leader. He pulls you to your feet, mumbling about how this wasn’t part of the deal.

You don’t have the energy to protest as he pulls you down hallways and through doors. He bursts into a large open room. It smells like chlorine, but your eyes are too fuzzy to figure out why. The lights just got so much brighter, and you can’t see. You keep slipping on the floor. The third time, you fall to the ground. Everything is wet. He’s kicking you now. No, rolling you. It all feels distant. As if it’s not happening to you, but rather you are watching it happen to someone. Like a movie.

You hear the splash before you register the water surrounding you. You’re sinking. It’s actually quite warm. Like a comforting blanket tucking you into bed. The sounds of people yelling fade out as the water covers your head. You feel at peace as everything fades to black.

Suddenly, the peace is gone. You can hear voices. They sound loud, but still distant. Like you are swimming and someone is trying to talk to you from above the water. But the ground is hard now. There’s loud bangs too, but you can’t figure out what they are. There’s no pattern to them, but suddenly they stop. Maybe you’ll never know what they were, oh well. You just want to get back to the peaceful darkness.

Instead, you feel burning in your lungs and a pounding in your head. It feels like someone is punching you in the ribs. No. No. No. Where’s the peace?

All at once, the burning liquid is expelled from your lungs and your eyes fly open. You try to spin around, to see what’s happening, but everything hurts. Your lungs are trying to fill with air. Your eyes are trying to adjust to the lights. You head is begging everything to just stop making noise. Then, darkness. It’s not a peaceful transition this time. It’s sudden, as if someone turned everything off.

“Y/N?” The sound of your name draws you out of the memory again. You turn to see Hotch’s concerned expression. He’s parked the car outside of the station.

You take a few deep breaths before speaking, trying to prepare yourself for what you never wanted to have to do. “I have to tell them.” Hotch nods with a grim expression on his face.

“The team won’t judge you for keeping it a secret. We’ll all be there for you.” He tries to smile, but it’s more of a grimace. He’s too worried about you.

“I know. It’s not me I’m worried about.” For the first time since you met him, Aaron Hotchner looks confused. It’s actually kind of funny. Although, your laughing sounds more delirious than amused.

“Hotch, my first case with Spencer, do you remember it?” You shudder at the memory.

“Of course. It was hard on both of you.” Your smile feels weak, even to you.

“Well, I tried to check on him. I had only just met him, but he looked so sad. I wanted to take his pain away.” You can feel the tears coming, but you can’t figure out why. “He said unless I had been kidnapped, tortured, and drugged, shot multiple times, and witnessed the murder of the love of my life there was nothing I could do to help him.”

You can’t bring yourself to look at Hotch. His worrisome expression will just make you feel worse.

“You didn’t tell him.” The realization is evident in the lilt of his voice. Turning toward him, you try to explain, but he cuts you off. “He was listing trauma you’ve both experienced, and you didn’t tell him.”

“Of course not, he would’ve felt so guilty! He already feels so guilty and he has no idea. We talked it out, you know. We were actually becoming friends, although it was hard to see from an outside perspective.”

“You had me fooled. The two of you barely talk.” Hotch looks incredulous. You’ve never seen so many emotions on his face in one day, let alone one conversation.

“I know. It’s still new. Honestly, it happened yesterday.” Hotch actually chuckles at that. “I think he still feels bad that my first impression was him yelling at me. He’s going to feel so guilty, and I just wanted to keep that pain away from him. He doesn’t need my emotional baggage on top of his own.” You can’t read the expression on his face anymore. You can tell he’s thinking something, though he doesn’t intend to share.

“It’ll all work out in the end, Y/N. Reid is stronger than he looks. He’s been through a lot, but so have you. Let’s go catch this son of a bitch.” And the two of you exit the car as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

Your nerves build waiting for the rest of the team at the station. Spencer and Derek are last to arrive. You were hoping to have a few more minutes to figure out how to tell them all about the worst moments of your life, but alas the time has come.

Hotch clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. The conversations about theories die out as all eyes turn to him. “Y/N has a theory to share.”

That’s one way to put it. Before you can back out, you jump right in.

“The unsub was a for-hire torturer. I think he left the business and started killing for fun. A sadist. He enjoys the psychological torture of killing the one person you love more than anyone.” You can’t bring yourself to say another word. Spencer looks grief stricken. Everyone else is looking at you in confusion, except Hotch who is looking at you with sorrow. You can’t decide which is worse.

“What makes you say that?” Derek is the first one to speak. He clearly doesn’t understand why you came to that conclusion. Plus, he’s probably confused that Hotch had to introduce your theory rather than just include it in the brainstorming.

“Before I worked in violent crimes, I worked in the National Security division. I focused on domestic terrorism. We had a mission go wrong. It was supposed to be a simple, just gathering intel. Something went wrong and two agents were abducted.” You unconsciously decided to depersonalize the story. It’s something Hotch quickly caught on to, but what can he do about it? You just need to get the words out.

“They were a couple. Engaged. The man, he died from three precise wounds to the abdomen. He bled out while his fiancé was forced to watch.” You’re grateful when Emily interrupts.

“Did the woman drown?” The woman. You.

“No. Well, yes. She was dead for 3 minutes when they found her. The cell leader dumped her into a pool in the building she was being held in. They caught him trying to flee the building. When they questioned him about a partner, he said he hired someone to torture the couple to get information. He didn’t know where he went. I think that’s the unsub.”

Instantly, the team is theorizing. You stay quiet, listening. Where could he have hidden for this long? Were there more crimes in other states? Can Garcia look through unsolved double homicides that fit the signature? Before long, Derek asks the question you’ve been dreading.

“Can we interview the agent who survived?” You’re grateful that he’s looking at Hotch when he asks. Spencer, though, his eyes haven’t left you since you started speaking. He knows. You know he knows because you can see the weight bearing down on him. You tear your eyes away from him when Hotch clears his throat to get your attention.

“Y/N, can we interview the agent?” His tone is gentle. Hotch knows what he’s asking. Are you ready to tell them the truth? To share this pain with all of us?

“Yes. You can interview her.” You are visibly tense, but Morgan is just confused about the interaction. Why would Hotch need to ask you for permission? Why does he sound like someone just kicked his puppy?

“Great, when can she get here?” Of course, Morgan would ask the next logical question.

“She’s already here.” Your voice is quiet. He almost doesn’t hear you.

“What? Where?” He knows he’s missing something. It’ll only take him a few more seconds to put it together, but you save him the trouble.

“Right here.” You gesture to yourself, eyes flitting between Spencer’s and the ground. The rest of the team didn’t hear you. They were still working out theories as you, Morgan, Hotch, and Spencer converse in cryptic sentences and brief eye contact. Spencer is frozen in place. Hotch was stressed for you. It’s never easy to share past trauma, let alone when you feel like you don’t have a choice.

The realization hits Morgan so fast he almost falls to the ground. He rushes to you, pulling you into the tightest bear hug you have ever experienced. Morgan has become like an older brother to you. He always jokes about how he would beat up anyone who hurt you. You always joke right back about doing the same for him. He told you about Carl Buford a few months ago. It was also on a case. You would’ve told him everything then, but you didn’t want him to feel like you thought the two were comparable or that his trauma was somehow less important just because you’d been through some bad shit too.

His actions drew the attention of Rossi, JJ, and Emily though. You weren’t an overly emotional person usually. Undercover work made you good at compartmentalizing, so you never really sought out someone to comfort you. The sight of you in tears, wrapped in Morgan’s arms threw them for a loop. You normally waited until you got home to go through your routine to decompress. It was easier that way. But right now, the thought of even looking at Spencer was enough to bring tears to your eyes. You just couldn’t stop thinking about him. It felt weird, to be sharing such an intimate part of your life with everyone and still be thinking about him. You had moved on from it all though. You knew how to deal with it. Of course, you still love Cameron, but you talk about everything in therapy once a week so you won’t break down like this.

You see JJ look to Spencer for an explanation, but he’s too busy looking at you with more pain in his eyes than should be possible. He knows how it feels to see someone you love die right in front of you. He knows how it feels to try and move on from being drugged and tortured. He knows how it feels to be alone in it all. What he doesn’t know is how it feels to try and help someone through that grief only to have your own thrown back in your face. That’s what he did to you. Albeit, unintentionally but he did that. And it is so clear that he feels awful. You wish you could talk to him, but Morgan is pulling you into a different conference room for a cognitive interview that you somehow agreed to in your state of shock.

Hotch explains the situation to Rossi, Emily, and JJ. Spencer’s guilt only pushes further down on him when he hears it all again.

He stares at the room you’re in through the class doors of the conference room. He hasn’t moved in the ten minutes you’ve been gone. He expected JJ to talk to him first, but he was surprised to find Hotch instead.

“Y/N told me in the car that she was scared to share that story.” Hotch starts slow, trying to ease Spencer out of his own head.

“I would be too. It’s a painful memory to relive.” Spencer responds with a familiar tightness in his chest.

“She wasn’t worried about herself though.” Spencer’s head jerks up to meet Hotch’s stare.

“What do you mean? Who else would she be worried for?”

“You.” Hotch says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. You being worried about him when you share your darkest memories.

“Me?” Spencer practically falls out of his chair in an effort to sit up straighter. “Why would she worry about me?” Despite his genius IQ, he can’t fathom why you would worry about him in this scenario. If roles were reversed and he had to tell the story of watching Maeve die, he wouldn’t be worried about you. He slowly comes to the conclusion that he would be worried about you though. Now that he knows you’ve been through something similar, he would worry about you anytime it was brought up. Anytime anything remotely similar was brought up.

“She told me what you said to her on the jet after your first case together.” Spencer falls into himself at the memory, his guilt pushing his shoulders down. “She said you still feel guilty about it. That hearing the things she has been through would push all that guilt back to the surface. More than anything, she wanted to protect you from more pain.” Hotch seems to know more than he’s saying, but Spencer is too shocked to profile him.

“But, I, how would, but…” Spencer is muttering the beginning of every thought running through his head, but he can’t seem to form a complete sentence. “Why?”

“You’ll have to ask her.”

Between your cognitive interview and Garcia’s sleuthing, the team find the unsub rather quickly. You stay at the station when the team goes to catch him. You try to protest, but Hotch, Morgan, and Emily stare you down until you concede. Really though, it was the concerned look from Spencer that convinced you to sit down and wait. The case wraps up quickly after that. The masked man ended up being Kyle Beckett. A classic sadist.

It brings you more closure than you would have imagined to know he will be locked up for the rest of his life. You spent a lot of time in therapy trying to cope with the fact that he was never caught. And now, it’s over. You’re also extremely grateful you didn’t have to face him, although you would never admit that you were actually glad to stay behind. They can all tell though. They are profilers after all.

You can’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu at all the stares you’re getting on the jet. It’s as if time itself was rewound to a year ago. You feel like the newbie again. Getting ready to have a heart to heart with Spencer. You’d be blind not to notice the parallels of the two situations when Spencer slides into the seat next to you on the jet after everyone else falls asleep.

The silence is comforting at first, but quickly becomes unbearable.

“Hi” You have a sleepy smile on your face when you say it. You are unbelievably exhausted after everything that happened. Too tired to fully conceal the emotions you know you have been denying. You’re always happy when you talk to him, even if the occurrences are a bit far and few between compared to other members of the team. “You look sad.”

His mouth actually twitches upward at that statement, which you count as a win in your book. “You’ve been through hell on this case, and you’re still worried about me.” You can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s too good at hiding his thoughts inside that big beautiful brain.

“I’ve always worried about you. Ever since I met you. You just looked so sad and I wanted to make it stop.” You aren’t thinking before you speak anymore. Probably why Spencer suddenly looks so surprised.

“Is that why you didn’t want to tell me?” Now it’s your turn to look confused. How did he know that? “I may have talked to Hotch earlier…” It takes longer than you’d care to admit for you to understand what exactly Hotch told him. But still, you’re too tired to be bothered.

“I’m sorry if that was weird for you. It’s just, after we talked about it I thought maybe we could eventually be friends or something. I didn’t want you to be sad again. I know what it feels like to be sad. I also know what it feels like to be sad again when you realize someone else is sad for that same reason.” You must actually be exhausted because it feels like you’re talking in riddles. “Sorry, that doesn’t make sense. I just mean, I didn’t want you to feel bad about it again. I didn’t want you to feel more pain” You’ve started leaning toward him, about ready to pass out.

“You’re incredible. You truly are amazing. I don’t think a day will go by where I don’t feel awful for what I said to you, but maybe with enough time I can make it up to you.”

“I would like that.” You smile brightly as you look into his eyes. They seem sad still, but there is a brightness there that wasn’t there before.

Spencer doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he lets you lay down in his lap as you drift off, the soothing feeling of his hands in your hair lulling you to sleep.

You wake up as the jet touches down. The memories of your conversation with Spencer bring a smile to your face. He looks down smiling when you shift in his lap.

“Thank you” You’re not surprised he still feels like he needs to thank you.

“I would do anything for you Spencer Reid.” You get up to collect your belongings, turning back only when you realize he hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch.

“Spence, let’s go.” Spence. He likes the sound of that. Maybe, just maybe the two of you will be okay.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #spencer #spencer reid one shot #mgg

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attllhak · 3 years

Text

Surface Too Soon .2

@tortilla-of-courage and also @emenerd because apparently this story is getting a proper tag list now!

So, here’s chapter 2, featuring Zelda and Fi. I’m actually pretty happy with how I managed to write Fi here. I was worried I’d have trouble with her considering how different of a character she is from any other character I’ve written before.

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Chapter 2: Chasing Fi

There was something familiar about this woman, though Zelda didn’t know what or why.

“You are not Master Link,” the woman said, meeting Zelda’s eyes, voice gentle but robotic.

“Link, he’s alive?” She asked.

The woman ignored her, looking back around the walls. “I do not sense my master here. Proceeding to search elsewhere.”

“Hey, wait!” Zelda shouted, running after the woman as she floated away. “Wait, come back! Why are you looking for Link?”

The woman ignored her, floating out through the door of the academy. Zelda nearly ran into the door, grabbing at the handles and yanking it open, running out into clear, cool night.

She scanned the area, spotting the woman floating off a ways away.

Zelda jumped from the roof, landing in a roll and keeping up her chase.

“Hey! Wait!” She shouted, finding it hard to keep pace. “Why are you looking for Link?!”

The woman disappeared into the bazaar, and Zelda ducked under the heavy fabric to follow, mentally apologizing for breaking the rules about it being closed.

The woman paused, floating in the center of the dark building. Zelda had to squint to see her in the darkness.

“Hey!” She called, and the woman finally turned to look at her.

The woman just floated there, watching her in the darkness.

“Why are you looking for Link?” Zelda asked. “What do you need from him?”

She floated there for longer, and Zelda was about to speak again when the woman finally broke the silence.

“Apologies, Your Grace, but it is not my role to speak with you. My role is to seek out your chosen hero and assist him in his role,” she said, voice devoid of emotion, and confusing Zelda a lot. Her chosen hero? “Your presence confuses me,”

“What?” Zelda asked.

“My master is not here,” the woman said instead. “Proceeding to search elsewhere,”

“Wha- hey!” Zelda gasped, nearly tripping on a stall, and most certainly bruising her hip, trying to follow as the woman started moving again. “What does any of that mean?!”

She ducked under the fabric, desperately trying not to lose this weird blue woman. Your Grace? Chosen hero? What was she talking about?

“Stop running away from me!” Zelda shouted, only able to keep up since the woman stopped to stare at every door they passed for a few moments before moving on. “I’m trying to talk to you!”

The woman never hesitated, nor turned to look despite Zelda’s repeated shouting. It was like she couldn’t even hear her, which Zelda knew for a fact was untrue.

“I know what happened to Link!” She finally tried as the woman passed over the plaza.

The woman stopped at that, finally, turning to look at her and giving her a chance to catch her breath.

“You have information pertaining to the location of my master?” The woman asked.

“Yes,” Zelda gasped, leaning her weight on her knees. This woman was fast! “Yes, I know why you can’t find him,”

“I must ask you to provide me with this information so that I may locate him,” the woman said, staring at Zelda with her expressionless face, even the eyes looking like it was part of a smooth blue mask. “It is essentially that I meet with him as soon as possible,”

“I want some answers first,” Zelda huffed, straightening up and planting her hands on her hips. “And don’t think you can find Link without my help, because you won’t,”

The woman watched her, tilting her head slightly for a long moment.

“My analysis concludes that there is an 87% chance of you being correct about needing your help. Very well, I will answer a few questions in exchange for information on the whereabouts of my master,” the woman said, floating up in front of Zelda, who stumbled back a step. “My records indicate that your culture demands I perform an introduction at this point. My designation is ‘Fi’. You may begin asking questions now.”

“Why are you looking for Link?” Zelda asked immediately. “And what’s this about him being your master? And the whole thing with the ‘chosen hero’ deal. And why were you calling me Grace?”

“I am searching for Link because he is my master, and as destiny has begun to unfold my directives demand that I seek him out,” the woman, Fi, said simply. “He has been chosen as my master since a time long before your people have recorded memory. He has been chosen for a very important role in the future of your people, and those on the Surface. I call you Your Grace because that is your respectful designation, and I do not know your mortal name,”

Zelda frowned. Destiny? The future? Her designation? And, wait…

There was something below the clouds! If Link survived his fall, then he was down there, on the Surface! Oh, she had so many questions for when he got back!

In the meantime however…

“What’s this about destiny?” Zelda asked. “And, there’s land below the clouds? What does Link have to do with any of it? Oh, and, um, my name is Zelda,”

“Your Grace, Zelda.” Fi said. “Your preferred designation has been noted. I am not permitted to speak on your destiny, as it is not my role to help you fulfil it, nor am I permitted to speak on the nature of my master’s destiny with you. Yes, there exists a land your people call ‘The Surface’ below the cloud barrier. Your Link has been chosen to play an important role, and it is imperative that I find him quickly,”

“That is not very helpful,” Zelda frowned.

“I have answered your questions,” Fi said. “Should you have no more, I would request that you fulfil our agreement and provide me with the information you have on the location of my master,”

“Ah, right, about that,” Zelda bit her lip, looking away. “He’s, not on Skyloft,”

“I am not sure I follow, Your Grace, Zelda,”

“It’s, it’s my fault really, it’s all my fault,” she admitted, feeling about ready to burst into tears all over again, once again exhausted by the weight of her guilt and all the crying she’d already done. “I didn’t listen to him when he said he couldn’t sense his loftwing and I, I pushed him over the edge. I didn’t realize that something was wrong until it was too late and, and he’s gone now, and it’s all my fault!”

She reached up to wipe at her face, feeling somewhat embarrassed for crying in front of this strange woman but unable to stop herself.

Muffled sobs tapered off in confusion as she felt what might have been fabric woven of metal settle around her shoulders. She looked up in confusion to see Fi looking down at her with what might have been concern or sympathy.

“What are you doing?” Zelda asked through tears.

“My records indicate that this motion is used commonly among your people as an act of comfort,” Fi said. “Your distress led me to believe this would be a soothing action to take,”

Zelda nodded, sniffling. “I’m not sure anything you do or say could help, but thank you for trying,”

“My analysis concludes that this information may alter your emotional state,” Fi said, and Zelda looked up in confusion. “My master, your Link, is alive.”

Zelda froze, looking up at Fi in confusion and shock.

“How do you know that?” Zelda asked, voice shaking.

“I am somewhat connected to my master,” Fi informed her. “I also have the ability to sense and locate certain individuals, called dowsing. My dowsing would not work if he was not alive, and it does. Therefore, he is alive.”

Zelda felt like collapsing all over again. There was so much to take in there.

Link was alive. She hadn’t killed him. He was alive and on the Surface.

He must be terrified! Alone down there, no idea where he is or how to get home. He must be so scared. Not to mention hurt! It was such a long fall, even though he survived, who knew how injured he was? He could be curled up on the Surface somewhere, injured and unable to move, vulnerable to all sorts of dangers.

The relief and worry and fear that replaced the guilt was crippling, and she dropped to her knees, clutching at her hair. She didn’t even realize she was struggling to breathe until Fi told her.

“Your Grace, Zelda, your breathing has become irregular, and I can sense you are in emotional distress. I would recommend you attempt to regulate your breathing to ease your distress,” Fi said. “I am willing to provide you with a grounding point to match your breathing to if you must,”

Zelda nodded, and Fi gently began moving one of her ‘arms’ in a gentle motion. Up, in. Down, out.

Eventually she calmed down, moving her hands to fist in her dress, knuckles still white from how hard she was holding the fabric.

“I conclude that you have returned to a stable emotional state,” Fi said simply. “If my master, your Link, is on the surface, this provides a difficult problem in my location of him,”

“Take me with you!” Zelda said abruptly.

Fi paused to look at her. Zelda imagined she would have been blinking if she had eyelids to do so with.

“Take me to the Surface with you,” Zelda explained, a bit of desperation seeping into her voice. “Let me help you find Link. If you can find a way down there safely, then I’ll help you find Link. Please,”

Fi looked at her for a long moment, then floated up. “I do require a wielder to make it to the Surface. Very well, I accept your offer of assistance. Please follow me so that we may open a path to the Surface.”

Zelda had no idea what Fi meant by wielder, but stood to follow the strange woman regardless. If she could help Zelda find Link, then she’d follow her anywhere.

Fi led her to the statue of the goddess, and then into a small room under the statue that Zelda swore wasn’t there before.

Fi, it turns out, was a sword. Which, explained a lot, actually.

It didn’t explain the sense of deja vu she got when she pulled the blade.

Her father arrived as she swung the sword and activated the little thing that lifted the frame for the tablet that Fi produced.

Fi and her father went back and forth a bit about some prophecy, but Zelda was more focused on putting the tablet in the frame, and then putting the sword in a sheath on her hip.

“Your Grace, Zelda,” Fi said as she finally tuned in. “I can confirm that a beam of light has created a small rift in the cloud barrier separating your world from the one below. Using this rift, we will be able to travel to the place you call ‘The Surface’ and begin our search for my master, your Link,”

“What?” Zelda’s father gaped a bit.

“Fi is taking me to the Surface,” Zelda told him firmly. “Link is down there, and we’re going to find him. Don’t try to stop us.”

“Well, you aren’t going now,” he said. She opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand to pause her angry argument. “Zelda, it is nearly dawn, and I know you have not slept yet. At least take some time to prepare before you go. I know I cannot stop you, but if you at least promise to sleep first, I can find you a better outfit to wear than your current one. It’s not exactly suitable for a trip to the Surface,”

Zelda looked down, still in her outfit for the Wing Ceremony that had been cancelled.

“I’m taking the sailcloth,” she said, and when her father nodded she eventually agreed to sleep before she left.

Fi vanished into the sword, and Zelda followed her father back down to the Academy.

The green light breaking through the clouds called to her. Link was down there. He was down there, alone, and he needed her.

Just a few hours, Link, she thought, setting Fi’s blade down on her desk, eyes still drawn to her window and the light breaking through the clouds. Just a few hours to appease my father, and then I’m coming to get you. I swear it,

She only realized exactly how tired she was when she passed out the moment her head hit the pillow.

#skyward sword #zelda #legend of zelda #loz #fi #sksw #hey here's chapter 2 #which is focused entirely on zelda and fi #stubborn zelda my beloved #also should probably start tagging this as #skyward sword spoilers #since we're starting to get there #especially with the bits here about the whole zelda reveal about 2/3 of the way into the game #and hey! we have a tag list now!#if you want to be on the tag list for this fic (or any of my fics) just let me know #i'll probably make a masterpost at some point today to make that a bit easier #but for now have more of this au #we catch back up with link and his new babysitter next chapter

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illuminatedquill · 3 years

Text

Nevertheless, Episode 9

More Thoughts/Analysis

“So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.”

- E.A. Bucchianeri

Jae Eon’s Self Sabotage

Chekov’s Gun is the dramatic principle that details within a story will contribute to the overall narrative. You might have heard of this before in its simplest form: if there is a gun shown in Act 1, it absolutely must go off in Act 2 or 3. In episode 9 of Nevertheless, we have this scene right at the beginning:

Yes, that scene. Park Jae Eon sees Yang Do Hyeok standing off to the side as he waits outside Na Bi’s apartment to retrieve his stuff. Na Bi doesn’t know Do Hyeok is nearby. Jae Eon makes the calculation in his head and manipulates his way inside Na Bi’s apartment, knowing exactly what it looks like to Do Hyeok. It’s petty revenge for seeing Na Bi and Do Hyeok together on campus from earlier.

This is the gun. And it backfires on Jae Eon big time. Throughout the entire episode, his acts of sincerity towards Na Bi seem genuine and heartfelt, yet his action in that one scene undermines anything he attempts. It doesn’t work; to his mounting frustration, Na Bi and Do Hyeok continue to talk and meet as if nothing happened.

(We know that’s not the case as seen from Do Hyeok’s alone time but I’ll talk about that later in this post.)

It’s a ticking time bomb and it goes off at last in the rain scene. Nothing is working for him. He is desperate not to lose Na Bi. And he goes off in a drunken rage on Na Bi after she returns home on that fateful rainy night.

And he loses her. The gun goes off. Everything sincere he did turns rotten in Na Bi’s eyes after he reveals his actions. Actions have consequences, always rippling forward and affecting change in moments not yet experienced. He ruined his chances because of his petty cruelty towards Do Hyeok in the beginning. His sincerity only extended towards Na Bi and it was only to get her attention once more.

Jae Eon lost. Not so much to Do Hyeok, as he lost to Na Bi, who cares about him deeply. He underestimated her feelings towards Do Hyeok, assuming, like so many other viewers, that he was an an irritating distraction that refused to go away.

He can’t fathom why Do Hyeok still seems to like Na Bi after seeing them enter her apartment together. Is he really that incredible a person? What makes him so special?

Well, let’s talk about it.

Do Hyeok’s Crisis Playbook

We see from Do Hyeok’s time alone after his initial visit to Seoul that he is taking it pretty hard; I can’t really blame him, considering what he saw that night. His struggle is open, honest, and raw; like Na Bi, it affects him to the point that he can’t focus on his work (anyone seem to notice that Jae Eon’s work never seems to be affected by his feelings?).

It’s jealousy and insecurity eating away at him. Just like Jae Eon. He’s also desperate not to lose Na Bi but doesn’t want to do anything untoward or overboard because he’s afraid of ruining their friendship. Once again, his consideration is for Na Bi and how she feels, but he cannot ignore what he saw and how he feels about it.

So, what is our favorite Potato Boy to do? Park Jae Eon already made his move by staging that whole scene of him and Na Bi going into her apartment together. How does Do Hyeok fight back? What’s his playbook in this time of crisis?

He doesn’t fight back. And that’s how he stays in the game. Do Hyeok is not a player like Jae Eon; there isn’t a manipulative or deceptive bone in his body. Do Hyeok does what he always does and doubles down on his sincerity, on the strength of his feelings, and his faith in Na Bi.

Do Hyeok doesn’t play the game Jae Eon tries to involve him in. He always lays it all out on the table with Na Bi so there is no room for misunderstandings. That’s one of the reasons why their relationship works so well; they talk more. Not just about feelings or romance but about school or their day to day life. What they’re building now is something that can last a lifetime.

So he talks to her about it. And admits his jealousy. She wasn’t even aware that he had seen them and yet it sounds like he’s the one who is apologizing (even though he never let his hurt feelings show in his conversations with Na Bi, DO HYEOK YOU ARE TOO GOOD). He lays himself bare to her once more. We don’t see Na Bi’s response other than her shocked and guilty expression, which is annoying because it would definitely be interesting to see how she reciprocated his frankness.

(Underrated super cute scene between them in this episode; when they meet up at night and bring drinks for each other. It’s even the exact same drink. I was grinning like a maniac.)

But Na Bi is familiar with Jae Eon’s game. And when she finds out how badly Do Hyeok was hurt by Jae Eon’s actions (and how he involved her in it) Na Bi finally is snapped to her senses and severs the thread still binding her and Jae Eon together.

Na Bi’s choice isn’t shown as a redemptive or heroic moment. It never was supposed to be. Although I’m sure a lot of us were cheering in that moment, her moments of unrestrained grief alone afterwards are the sobering reality that love, as always, comes with a price.

Nabi’s Choice (The Review)

This is a follow up to my earlier post before episode 9 came out. So, now we see what Na Bi decides and, maybe, how it will all play out in the next episode (barring any last minute twists).

First, let’s address the still ongoing criticism I see regarding Na Bi and Do Hyeok’s relationship: lack of passion, no romantic vibes, blah blah blah. I wrote at length in a previous post why that isn’t true - at least on Do Hyeok’s part (one of the reasons why we don’t get internal monologue from Do Hyeok is because what else is he thinking about other than Na Bi?).

Na Bi, on the other hand, is still ambivalent about her feelings towards Do Hyeok. Episode 9 provided more clarity for her stance towards Jae Eon - he’s the dog shit she stepped on and was promptly wiped away in the grass - but Do Hyeok is still a mystery. Yes, she’s friendly, she cares, and genuinely enjoys being with him but the spice, the passion is missing. And that is kinda important for a romantic relationship.

Well. Look no more. Na Bi has spice for Do a Hyeok and it shows not once, but twice this episode. Where’s the passion? Jae Eon fucked around and found out. Very kind of him. Turns out Na Bi, like all of us who like Do Hyeok, will not tolerate any Do Hyeok slander and I am 100 PERCENT here for it.

There’s a scene shortly before the climatic rain fight where Na Bi is having another meeting with her assistants: the junior (does he have a name? Jin-su?) and Jae Eon. The junior talks to Na Bi about her and Park Jae Eon: the usual tired gossip of whether or not they’re dating. Na Bi waves it away like dandelion fluff.

And then the junior mentions Do Hyeok. “What about the noodle shop guy? Ever since the camp meeting, people have been saying there’s a higher chance you’re dating him.”

And Na Bi just . . . we’ve never seen this from her before, even when she broke up with Jae Eon in episode 5. Her whole demeanor turns ice cold and her voice is wicked sharp as she proceeds to shut down that avenue of questioning. The junior physically leans back from the force of her anger and wonders aloud why she’s so upset (you’re talking about her love life as gossip, idiot, why do you think she’s so upset). Jae Eon walks in and doesn’t see the foreshadowing; he just hears Do Hyeok and it feeds his jealousy.

There it is, everybody. Evidence of Na Bi’s feelings for Do Hyeok and what he means to her. Her protectiveness over him and her refusal to let him be involved in the drama surrounding herself and Jae Eon. Her desire to be the better around him; not because he asks (and he would never) but because his feelings for her make her think she might be worthy of such a love.

And then there’s the rain scene. Na Bi and Jae Eon, vulnerable in the rain. Na Bi admits to her faults in the relationship, how she brought this upon herself. No, she hasn’t been nice or good this whole time; in fact, she’s been kind of terrible. But Jae Eon revealing what he did and how it was to hurt Do Hyeok wakes her up and convinces that the time has come to end this “game”. It got Do Hyeok hurt because of her inability to end it with Jae Eon and good people don’t let that happen to people they care about.

So Na Bi ends it with Jae Eon and chooses herself. At last. And to do so, she has to cut out this malignant tumor of a relationship and, God, does it hurt so much to end it, but she gets it done and takes the first step to being a better person for herself.

The cinematography in this drama is top tier and we see her situation presented so viscerally. She’s alone, in the light, but it’s not a warm, redemptive light; it has a sickly, yellow tint and is surrounded by darkness.

But she’s still there. She still made it.

One Last Observation, I Promise

Last thing I noticed from this episode that I want to talk about: the professor’s critique of Na Bi. She specifically mentions that a good artist can inspire others and Na Bi, whether she realizes it or not, actually does do that.

Na Bi helps Do Hyeok with his videos, giving advice that helps boost their popularity and making them better.

Jae Eon is inspired to make the butterfly bracelet for Na Bi and gifts it to her.

The difference between the two? Do Hyeok actually thanks Na Bi for her help and points out that it was her influence that made his videos better.

Jae Eon obviously means his gesture to be romantic and sincere but he again fails to talk about why he’s doing it. The implication is there but Na Bi needs more than some vague nonsense.

Communication is at the heart of this episode and how, without it, relationships stagnate and fail. Bit Na + Gyu Hyun and Soljiwan couple - their relationships only progress because the couples voice their concerns and fears to one another. And instead of being rejected or being hurt, it allows their partners to reassure them and move forward with their relationship.

Why do Na Bi and Jae Eon fail? They. Don’t. Talk. Na Bi is stuck inside her head and Jae Eon relies on vague gestures and sexual chemistry to express himself.

Why do Na Bi and Do Hyeok succeed? Because they talk. About everything. Their dialogue is clear and honest and sincere without any hidden meanings or motives. And you see why Na Bi is rapidly moving more and more towards Do Hyeok and not Jae Eon.

(The preview does raise some questions about how it will all end but I don’t think the show is going to pull a bait and switch and have Na Bi end up with Jae Eon. I also don’t think it’s likely they’ll have an open ending, either. I’ll talk about that in another post.)

My next post will be what I envision to be the best version of a Na Bi and Do Hyeok endgame and what I mean by that since Na Bi shouldn’t be dating anyone right now. So, look forward to that.

Until next time, everybody. Thanks for reading this long ass post. Hope you enjoyed it.

#jtbc nevertheless #nevertheless #kdrama #han so hee #chae jong hyeop #song kang #yu na bi #yang do hyeok #park jae eon

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yikestripes · 4 years

Text

High Heels, Red Dress

i think this is actually the longest fic i’ve written to date, goddamn. as always, i really really ran with this one. **LOOSELY BASED OFF OF SEASON 4 EPISODE 9 “52 Pickup”.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: none, some angst and some fluff.

“So you think he’s taking classes on how to talk to women?” Prentiss asked, incredulous. You tried to surprise your giggles, causing the others to look at you.

“Maybe Reid should try that,” Spencer’s face reddened as he busied himself with the file, pretending to read through it. You could tell he was faking because it never took him that long to study a file.

“I’m kidding, Spence.” You said a short time later, suddenly feeling guilty. Spencer looked up at you and nodded, tight lipped. He returned to the book he was reading. You shook your head and headed to the back of the jet to make yourself a coffee and take a break for a little while. Your peace, however, was short lived. Morgan strolled back and started making himself a cup of coffee while you waited for yours to finish brewing. He looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“What’s on your mind, Sweet Thing?” He asked.

“I feel really bad about what I said to Spencer.” You said quietly, taking a long sip of your coffee. Derek chuckled.

“I know why you said it, can’t say I blame you entirely.” You narrowed your eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh nothing, nothing at all.”

“Morgan.” Your tone raised slightly.

“Alright fine, you can put the angry eyes away. All I meant was that I can see the way you look at him, and you’re frustrated that he hasn’t made any sort of moves.” He said, leaning against the counter and raising his eyebrows again. “Am I wrong?”

Your answer was you walking away. He was completely on track, but you couldn’t bear to say the words out loud just yet. There wasn’t much hope on your end in terms of Spencer feeling the same way about you that you do him, so what was the point of hoping? It just lead to high expectations and low outcomes. You forced yourself to concentrate on the case file for the rest of the ride, briefly glancing at Spencer here and there; you made eye contact 3 times.

Although the jet ride was painfully quiet, the arrival on the scene was nowhere near as heavy. Well, in a sense. You were staring a dead woman in the face who looked just a little bit too much like you for your taste, and you could tell Prentiss was having similar thoughts.

“I guess we have to go pay this “Viper” guy a visit.” Spencer said behind you, quietly. You turned and looked at him, eyebrows raised. It was the first thing he’d said to you since the jet.

“Okay, I'll grab the keys from Hotch.” You turned on your heel and headed in Hotch’s direction as Morgan approached Reid.

“I see the way you look at her, you know.” Morgan said from behind him, frightening Reid slightly. He tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, and made a confused face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said quietly, walking to the car you hopped in.

“Those two are made for each other, goddamn.” Morgan said to no one in particular. Meanwhile, your ride to Viper’s class was a little too quiet for your liking. You broke the silence and turned the radio down slightly.

“I’m sorry, Spencer.” He looked at you suddenly, as if lost in his own thoughts.

“For what?” He frowned.

“For what I said on the jet, that was unfair and I’m sorry.” Spencer was quiet for a minute, contemplating.

“I really am, Spence.”

“No no I know, I accept your apology. I was just thinking, what if that was the reason the unsub had taken the class in the first place?” You paused, waiting for him to continue. He had something.

“Meaning that if a woman in his life, whether it was a girlfriend, wife, or maybe a female in a club, made him feel small and that he was unable to pick up women. Maybe he’s impotent and he’s out to prove a point.” You grinned and touched Spencer’s arm lightly, retracting when you remembered his disdain for being touched. His facial expression faltered, but was replaced quickly when he called Hotch.

“You are such a genius, Boy Wonder.” He smiled and looked at his hands in his lap, feeling warmth spread through his body.

The drive through downtown Atlanta was an easy one, you having spent the majority of your early to late teens and 20s driving all through downtown D.C. You arrived at the community center rather quickly, and found Viper in a seminar room on the first floor.

“This is the jungle, my friends, and you are the predators.” He said to his class, earning a round of applause.

As you and Spencer approached, he looked you up and down hungrily, licking his lips.

“Well hello there, gorgeous. Fortunately for you my class just let out, and I happen to have an hour until my ne-”

“My name is Doctor Spencer Reid and I’m with the FBI Behavioural Analysis Unit, and this is Agent (Y/L/N).” Viper tore his prying eyes away from you for a moment to look Spencer up and down, clearly unimpressed.

“Sure, sure. What can I do for you, Agents?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“This is regarding your, uh, class. Have you seen any sort of suspicious people or any of your students acting out of the ordinary?” Reid said, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“All my students are out of the ordinary, otherwise they wouldn’t need me to guide them.” He returned his attention to you, with a smirk.

“I, however, am the master. Picking up women is my profession and my dedication.” You rolled your eyes.

“We need to see a list of your students.” You said, monotone.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Sweetheart.”

“We will come back with a warrant.” You glared. Men like Viper made you sick.

“Alright, fine, Miss. Agent. You’ll get the roster. You can have anything else you want, you just have to ask nicely.” Viper leaned in closer and Spencer moved forward, almost shielding you.

“Oh, Dr. Reid, moving to protect the lady, hmm? How often do you have to rely on that title of yours to help you bring women home?” He almost laughed.

“Frankly, “Viper”, the way you talk to women is completely demeaning and utterly disgusting. We will come back with a warrant and will be investigating your supposed alibis, because right now you are a prime suspect in a murder investigation.” Spencer got in Viper’s face, his face as cold as stone. You’d never seen him get his back up in this way, usually it was Morgan.

“I have receipts to back up my whereabouts last night, for your information.”

“If you have any questions, call the Atlanta police department.” You said quietly, handing him a card with the number written out on the back. He looked you up and down one more time and replaced the ridiculous furry hat back on his head.

You followed Spencer out the door and back to the car, almost unable to keep up with his pace.

“Spence, what’s up?” He looked out the window, not saying anything. You could sense his anger.

“What’s wrong?” You pressed.

“I don’t like the way Viper was looking at you or talking to you.” He spat. “He was looking at you the way a predator looks at literal prey; you are so much more than that.”

Your face softened, and you rested a hand on his shoulder.

“I appreciate you standing up for me, that was very sweet.” You whispered, giving him a small smile. His heart fluttered, and he mustered up a small smile in return.

“Anytime, (Y/N/N).” He looked back out the window and subconsciously unclenched his fists at your sides, making you smile a little more.

Your ride back to the police station was very quiet, Spencer was still angry at Viper’s disgusting nature, and was completely against Morgan and Hotch’s idea to send you into a club as bait.

“This is ridiculous!” He said, crossing his arms.

“Spence, it’s fine. If it’s what I have to do, then it’s what I have to do.” You said, beginning to get frustrated. You appreciated more than anything how much Spencer cared, it made your heart do backflips, but you could take care of yourself. You’d been an FBI agent for 4 and a half years, and trained with Morgan regularly. Worst case scenario, you could handle yourself.

“It’s not fine, (Y/N). You were already subjected to Viper once today, now you have to go act as the prey for the unsub? What if he kidnaps you?”

“Reid, we’re going to be stationed at the bar and on the floor handing out fliers. Nothing is going to happen.” Spencer walked out of the room, Prentiss following close behind.

You crossed your arms and huffed. Hotch looked at you, and then looked away. You knew what you had to do, and you were determined to save some lives tonight, whether Spencer liked it or not.

“Are you ladies almost ready?” Hotch said on the other side of the door.

“Yeah, Hotch, we’ll be out in 5 minutes.” Emily called back. You could hear Hotch’s retreating footsteps, and resumed your conversation.

“Did he really say that?” Emily asked, securing an earring.

“Yep. Verbatim.”

“Wow, I can’t believe Reid had the guts to stand up to Viper like that, or that Viper even had the audacity to say something like that!”

“When you’re a misogynistic narcissist, anything is possible.”

Emily laughed in response as you looked at yourself in the full body mirror, smiling a little bit. As much as you hated to admit it, you did look good. You were in a tight red dress with a plunging neckline, gold jewelry, and red heels. You adorned a smokey eye look and teased your hair, completing the outfit. If nothing else, you were definitely ready for the club. Prentiss’s outfit was similar, except black with silver accessories. You opened the door to find your knights awaiting, and a few dropped jaws.

“Phew, you ladies clean up nice. You sure you’re alright with this?” Morgan said, directing the question at you.

“Yeah. Where’s Reid?” You asked, Spencer nowhere in sight. Morgan frowned and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“He’s waiting in the car.” Hotch said, looking at Morgan. Morgan shrugged his shoulders as you followed them to the car you were set to take, separately from the rest of the team so it looked like you were going in on your own.

“Spencer’s jaw would drop harder than Morgan’s if he saw you back there,” Emily said, a knowing look crossing her features. You snorted a little.

“Yeah right, he wouldn’t notice anything was different.” Months ago on a ladies night with Emily, JJ, and Penelope, you’d confessed your crush on Spencer to them after a few glasses of wine too many. Since then, they’d done everything they could to try and make sure you two would get together, but to no avail. Either Spencer was pretty good at hiding his true feelings, or he just did not feel the same way.

You were hoping for option 1.

You arrived at the club a lot sooner than you would’ve liked, and entered beside Prentiss.

“Just pretend like it’s another ladies night.” She said. You nodded and headed straight for the bar while she went to find a hightop to stand at.

“Two margaritas, please.” You told the bartender, who flashed a white smile. You smiled back softly and looked at the sea of people crowding the dance floor, looking for any sort of activity that caught your eye. On the other side of the bar, something did catch your eye. Spencer. He was staring at you, and when he noticed you looking back, he reverted his attention to Morgan. You frowned, and thanked the bartender.

“Spence was staring at me.” You said as you placed your drinks on the table. Prentiss raised her eyebrows and nodded at Morgan, who nodded back. He and Spencer moved slightly away from the bar to pass out fliers and ask if anyone had seen the man from the sketch.

You mindlessly sipped your marg when a familiar scent hit your nose, and rose your eyes to meet Viper’s.

“Oh no.” You said, giving Prentiss a look.

“Hello again, fancy meeting you here. Decide to take me up on my offer to see me on my turf?” He asked.

“No.” You said.

“Well, maybe I can pique your friend’s interest here. How are you, Sweetheart?” Prentiss glared.

“Here to prey on some younger women?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow. Viper frowned, but recovered quickly.

“If that means you, then yes ma’am. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked, trying to take her hand. She snapped her hand back to her body, and looked annoyed.

“If you aren’t here to help us, walk away.” She said, clenching her teeth. Viper shrugged and headed back in the direction of the bar, probably to find some other poor soul.

“He is not real.”

“I wish that were true.” You both took a long drag from your drinks, and found your eyes wandering towards the tall, curly haired genius. It was hard to find him at first, until you picked him out as the most uncomfortable man in the room. Morgan was beside him, also without any fliers, pointing to various women in the room. Spencer was nodding, as if taking mental notes about whatever Morgan was saying.

“Women like it when you can make them laugh. I know your sense of humor is a bit questionable, but if you can get her laughing, you’re definitely on your way there.” Spencer nodded, finding his gaze locked on you. You looked absolutely stunning in your red dress, barely coming above your knees. Your makeup accentuated your gorgeous eyes and your hair framed your face, and Spencer was breathless.

“Hey, stay with me, Pretty Boy. These tips can work on her too, I promise.” He nodded in your direction with a knowing smirk. Spencer’s cheeks flushed and he turned his attention to the bartender, who was talking to a couple of younger girls. He approached her and gave her a shy smile and a wave, pulling a spare flier from his pocket.

“Have you seen this guy walking around tonight?” He asked. The bartender shook her head and moved on to the man next to her, filling a drink order as she spoke.

“He looks familiar, but so do all the men I come across around here. He’s a common character.” She nodded to the paper in Spencer’s hand. She clearly wasn’t interested, too busy to be.

“Alright, then can I ask you something?” He said, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. She placed the drink down in front of the man next to him, turning her attention back to Spencer.

“Shoot.” She looked down the bar and saw that the other bartender had taken a few guests at a time, so she had a free minute.

Now he was across the room, talking to the female bartender. He was performing a magic trick for her, causing your blood to boil. She was giggling and touching his arm, and you could see the blush on his cheeks from across the room.

You grabbed your drink and were ready to march over there, when Prentiss caught your arm.

“I think I know who the unsub is,” You looked at her, thoughts of Spencer long forgotten.

“I was thinking about what you were saying about Viper’s speech today- the thing about squashing the queen bee.” Sparks collided in your brain as your eyes widened, connecting the dots.

“I’ll grab Spencer and Morgan, tell Hotch and let’s get out of here.” You chugged the rest of the margarita and felt it immediately, marching over to Spencer and Morgan much more confidently than you should have.

“We know who the unsub is,” You said, primarily to Morgan.

“Who?” Spencer asked, abandoning the magic trick and the bartender. She walked away without a second glance. Your glare hardened as you turned on your heel, walking out of the bar.

Morgan and Reid looked at each other before following you outside, watching as you jumped in the car with Prentiss and Hotch. Rossi pulled up in a car beside them, and they hopped in too. Spencer and Morgan put their vests on in the car and Spencer allowed his mind to wander. You’d looked so angry back there. Did he say something? He was only angry on your behalf earlier, he didn’t think you would be upset with him for something so trivial. He frowned as you all pulled up outside of the house.

You hopped out after Prentiss, still in your dress, but changed into black high top converse. You looked somehow even better with the dress and the converse, your hair still wild and free. Spencer gulped as he unholstered his gun, following behind Morgan. You were the first to enter the house, clearing almost half of the downstairs by the time Morgan and Reid caught up. You started up the stairs when you’d heard a crash from behind a door.

“He’s in there!” You yelled, jumping down the stairs to kick down the basement door. “FBI you’re under arrest!” You screamed down the stairs, making your way down with Morgan hot on your heels.

“Put your weapon down.” Morgan said, aiming right for his head. The unsub simply laughed.

“Or what, you’ll shoot me, pretty girl? I don’t think so.” The unsub inched closer, and you trained your gun on his head.

“One more step and you die. I don’t really think you want that, though.” You remained firm, and the unsub lost his nerve. The knife clattered as it hit the ground, the victim crying as she wriggled in her restraints behind him.

Morgan cuffed him and forced him upstairs, and as Reid approached you, you followed behind them. Reid frowned once more and followed Prentiss and Rossi back upstairs. Luckily, the unsub had slipped up and led the trail right to his home and the latest victim, who you were able to save. No harm had come to her when you had gotten there, although the disemboweling seemed like it was about to begin. It was safe to say she was scarred psychologically.

You stood a bit apart, arms crossed over your chest. You didn’t even hear Spencer approach.

“I don’t think I got the chance to tell you this, neither at the club or at the police station. You look beautiful,” Spencer’s brown eyes glistened, boring into yours.

“Thanks.” You said.

“I can tell by your tone and body language that you’re upset with me, but I still haven’t quite worked out why.” He pressed, standing in front of you, hands in his pockets.

“You don’t think I can handle myself.” You said, raising your eyes to meet his. He scrunched his face in confusion.

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to; it was the way you were so angry at the police station earlier today. It didn’t seem like you thought I could do it or handle it.” You glared. Your expression softened when Spencer frowned.

“I didn’t mean to make you think that, I was just worried about you. I don’t know what I would do with myself if anything happened to you,” Spence said quietly, taking your hand in his. All your anger dissipated the moment he took your hand.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You were quiet for a minute, contemplating bringing up what you saw between Spencer and the bartender. You decided against it, and opted to give him a hug.

“I appreciate how much you care, Spence.” You said into his shoulder. He gratefully returned the hug, elated that you were no longer angry with him. You both pulled away and rejoined your team, heading for the jet. You both slept the entire plane ride, since you were able to change into a pair of leggings and a hoodie. Spencer’s hoodie.

Spencer walked you to your car as he did after most cases, just so he could be secure in knowing you were safe for another night. You had been debating the entire walk whether or not it was a good idea to bring up the bartender, and you eventually decided to ask. You had to know whether or not to move on.

“Spence,” You broke the silence as you approached your car. He turned his attention to you, his eyes tired. “Whatever happened with the bartender from the club?” You asked, absentmindedly picking at your nails. He picked up on it right away, and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean?” He took your hand to stop your nail picking. You frowned. He rubbed his thumb across your knuckles to prompt you to continue.

“You were flirting with her and I wasn’t sure how it went.” You hadn’t thought past asking the question, therefore you didn’t have a very good reason why you were asking. Spencer looked unconvinced, but decided to bite anyway.

“Nothing happened, I didn’t get her number or anything. She wasn’t really my type.” He said, nodding. You nodded in return and smiled. He smiled, but furrowed his eyebrows further. “Why?” He smirked a little.

“I was just curious.”

“Uh huh. What’s the actual reason?”

“I WAS curious!”

“With ulterior motives, I'm sure.”

You shifted your weight between your feet, suddenly uncomfortable under his gaze. He raised his eyebrows and closed the already shrinking gap between you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He pulled away and raised his eyebrows as if to ask, “Is that why?”. You reached up and pulled his face back down to yours in another soft, warm kiss.

“Yeah. I was a little bit jealous.” You said, slightly breathless. Spencer smiled softly, and intertwined your fingers.

“Why were you jealous?” You sighed, and smiled up at him.

“Because I like you, dummy.” His eyebrows shot up as if you told him the secret to curing cancer, and slowly processed a response.

“I-I like you too.” You pressed a final kiss to his warm lips and grinned into it, letting your forehead come to rest against yours.

“I should have known the way you were drooling over me in that dress.” You whispered. He looked away and swallowed, running a hand through his hair.

“Goodnight, Spence.” You rolled your eyes as you threw your go bag in your back seat. He was grinning like a doofus as he made his way to his car, receiving a text from you as soon as he got in.

“You’re such a little dork, Reid. You’re lucky you’re adorable.” The warm feeling washed over Spencer once again as he held his phone to his chest, smiling like an idiot his entire drive home.

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flaminpumpkin · 3 years

Text

Small treasures

“Five more minutes,” Bruce grumbled as he distantly heard the door open through his sleepy haze.

There was some shuffling sound around the room and then it was flooded with bright morning light as Alfred mercilessly opened the heavy curtains, the rays of sunshine hitting the Bat right in the face, making him scramble for the covers to hide his sensitive eyes.

“Very well, Master Bruce. Breakfast will be ready for you in the kitchen.”

He was so used to Alfred’s barely hidden exasperation after all these years that his words took longer than usual to register with Bruce. A frown appeared on his face as he finally realized what was wrong with the butler’s statement.

Alfred never served breakfast – or any meal for that matter – in the kitchen.

He would rather shoo everyone out with a spatula full off batter than let anyone eat where he cooked. Bruce couldn’t even count the number of times he had seen Dick or Tim appear in the dining room with a sheepish look, a thoroughly exasperated Alfred hot on their heels.

Pushing the sheets away just enough to uncover his head, Bruce peeked over his shoulder at the still open door, eyebrows knitting further in confusion.

“What?”

Something caught his eyes.

There was a piece of yellow paper on the nightstand. An origami bat, he realized after finally deciding to emerge from the sea of sheets and pillows he had buried himself in during his sleep. He reached for it and took the little paper animal gingerly between his fingers, eyes focusing enough to read “unfold me” written in elegant cursive right at its center.

Bruce did as he was told.

Dear Master Bruce,

My words most probably confused you as the kitchen is a place I do not tolerate for anyone to eat in. But, need I remind you, there always has been one peculiar occasion where I allowed you to do so.

Bruce stared at the note, confusion growing.

Oh.

His eyebrows raised a bit, pleasantly amused. There was indeed one occasion Alfred would let him eat in the kitchen while he worked. What did the kids put Alfred to this time?

Led by his curiosity, Bruce climbed off the bed, fully awake now as he put on a shirt, and padded out of the bedroom, towards the kitchen.

No one was there when he arrived, which wasn’t odd per say but he had learned to be cautious over years of attempted surprise parties. There was a plate though, on the little table, with French toasts that smelled like butter and cinnamon and a cup of coffee with probably enough sugar and cream that it didn’t even taste like coffee anymore.

It was a breakfast Alfred had always prepared for him on the morning of his birthday after his parents’ death. He would put the plate on this same table and work silently as Bruce happily ate, the two of them sharing the same space in the simplest way. It wasn’t a grand gesture but it had meant the world to him nonetheless.

Another little origami bat was waiting for him, propped against the cup. A small smile tugged at his lips.

Bruce put it aside before starting to eat, careful not to stain the paper with coffee or grease, only taking it again once he had cleared the table and washed his hands. He unfolded it with the same care as the first.

My happy place.

(Took a piece of bread. Alfred said yes. Thank you.)

Cass

The dance studio on the third floor.

A while back, Bruce had decided to redesign one of the biggest rooms on that floor in a place where Cass could dance that wasn’t the ball room. He had wanted for it to be a place only for her, where she could express herself and spend time however she pleased, without anyone bothering her. His greatest recompense had been the radiant smile on her face before she had locked himself in there and played music until late that night.

The next course of action wasn’t too hard to guess so Bruce quickly folded the paper back into its bat form, slid it in the pocket of his pajama pants, along the first one, and headed for the next place.

As expected, he found another bat in Cass’s dance studio, tucked into the folds of a bright orange knitted scarf. There was a running joke between his kids saying that it was because Bruce always forgot to take a scarf with him during winter that his Batman voice sounded so bad.

One thing was for sure, he would not forget this one.

Hey B, remember that time you told me you were proud of me and then proceeded to suffocate me with your muscles? Just kidding, you give great hugs. Like, super comfy, 10/10. But yeah, go there next.

Steph :p

He huffed at Stephanie’s words, eyes rolling with fondness. He remembered perfectly what she was referring to.

The young woman had been staying in the manor for a few days that time, Alfred being keen on keeping her under careful observation after she had been hit with a new type of fear gas while on patrol with Dick. She had continuously apologized to Bruce, blaming herself for Dick’s injuries.

Until the third day, where he had found her reading in the library, curled up in one of the love seats. Before she could utter a word, he had crouched down and grabbed her hands firmly.

“You do not need to apologize or blame yourself for anything, do you hear me? You managed to drag Dick and yourself out of this building while under the influence of fear gas when most would have stayed frozen in place. I’m sure he will agree that a few scratches and broken bones are far better than what would have awaited him if you hadn’t been there. I’m proud of you, Stephanie Brown. More than you’ll ever know.”

After that, she had thrown herself at him and Bruce had hugged her for the better part of an hour until Alfred had come to fetch her for some blood analysis.

This time, when he walked into the next place of this little treasure hunt, he found a laptop, sitting open on the table next to one of the windows. The windows of the library were wide and high and the spot where the next gift awaited was one of his favorites.

So he let himself sink in the armchairs cushions and started to play the video.

“You better not ruin this, Todd,” Damian was saying, standing next to the piano in the lounge of the west wing, violin already positioned on his shoulder.

Jason was scowling at the piano in front of him, focused.

“Just take the lead, brat. I’ll follow.”

“Could you two focus, please?” Tim said off camera.

The other two huffed with the same affronted look towards the camera.

Then the melody started and both of their faces softened. It was gentle, melancholic. Almost sad if you asked Bruce. But he listened with a smile on his face, bemused at the sight of his two quick tempered sons playing with a soft kind of intensity together, Jason following Damian’s lead flawlessly – probably the result of hours of practice. It was truly beautiful and he knew that the melody was one of Damian’s compositions.

But it was over too soon for Bruce’s taste so he played it a second time, closing his eyes. And then a third as he read the next message, only heading for the next place once it was over.

Blah blah blah, some cute shit about us bonding, blah blah blah. Just get your ass to the garage old man.

Ps: Remember your Aston Martin? I think I scratched it a bit but I’ll blame it on Timmy anyway.

Jay.

Bruce knew exactly which car Jason was talking about (and knew perfectly that he didn't scratch it). An Aston Martin DB5 he had inherited from his father. Nobody had driven it in ages when Jason had brought it up during dinner one evening, not long after he had taken him in.

“Isn’t that James Bond's car?”

“It is. But it’s been so long since the last time I used it, I’ll probably need to pop open the hood before anything else if I want to drive it again.”

“Can I help you fix it?”

Jason’s eyes had been so full of hope and excitement when he had asked Bruce. He had laughed before agreeing. The next day, Alfred had had to come and pry them away from the car for lunch because both of them had forgotten about eating in their eagerness.

He noticed a tape case on the board as he approached, in front of the wheel. Bruce opened the door and climbed in so he could reach for it easily. On the piece of paper tucked between the clear case and the tape, Bruce could see every song scribbled, one in each of his children’s handwriting. He recognized a song by The Clash in Tim’s handwriting – of course – and Midnight Sonata in Damian’s. The other titles and artists were mostly lost on him, except maybe for that Belgian one Cass listened to a lot.

I can’t count the number of times I fell asleep there while you worked and you had to carry me back to my room.

Dick

Bruce couldn’t recount either.

Although he remembered fondly the first time Dick had fallen asleep in his study, curled up in one of the seats across his desk while he worked on some urgent papers for WE. They both had been so young. Bruce being completely new to parenthood, he had seeked out Alfred who had only fixed him with a blank stare before sending him back.

“Don’t you dare wake up this child, Master Bruce.”

He had actually managed to pick up the gangly child without waking him up, even if rather awkwardly, and had carried him all the way to his bedroom uneventfully. Only to trip on one of Dick’s schoolbooks once there, nearly dropping him.

They had both elected not to mention it to Alfred and, to this day, it was still something only the two of them knew about.

When he arrived at his study, another message was waiting for him in the seat Dick used to sleep in, along with a gift card for that 24 hours coffee shop that had opened recently in downtown Gotham. Bruce let out a breathy laugh at that.

I know you always listen when I play, Father. Why do you think I leave my door open when I do?

D. Wayne

And here he thought he had been smooth. However, he should have expected that his son would pick up on his habit of passing by his room while he rehearsed with his violin.

But Bruce couldn’t resist the pull in his chest. Damian was a gifted player, just like Jason, able to translate raw emotions in barely a few notes. It always put his mind at ease, smoothed out his most troubled thoughts even for only a few moments. He had caught everyone at least once, standing outside of his youngest’s door, listening to soft melodies in a rare moment of peace.

It was silent moments shared with everyone, brought together by Damian's deft fingers. Something he had been doing knowingly and willingly apparently. It made it all the more special for Bruce.

There was no gift when he went searching for the next clue in Damian’s room. Or so he thought.

Sitting on his son’s music-stand along with yet another yellow origami bat, was an open partition. It was still in work, Bruce could tell. Notes were hastily written with a pencil, a few stains where some had been erased. Nothing out of the ordinary for Damian and his creative mind. Except for the title.

Ode to Family.

Thankfully, no one was around to witness the shuddering breath that escaped him as he read. He exited the room still unable to breathe normally, heart so full he almost felt like suffocating, and walked towards his next – and probably last – location.

You spent hours trying to teach me how to dance the waltz there after I told you I wanted to take Steph dancing for her birthday. I still don’t know how to dance but we had fun.

Tim

Indeed, Bruce still regularly caught Tim stepping on his partner’s toes during charity galas and other events. But he suspected the young man of going to great lengths to not learn how to dance correctly because it usually dissuaded most people from asking him to dance with them. And god knew how much his son disliked dancing.

That was why it had greatly surprised him when Tim had asked him for help.

“I wasn’t really the best boyfriend to her so I just… I thought I could at least be a good friend and take her dancing? She loves it when Cass takes her in the studio and they dance so I just thought… Yeah…”

Five hours later, Tim had made absolutely no progress. He had known the steps by heart at this point, had it memorized and yet, he couldn’t seem to stop stomping on Bruce’s toes. To both Dick’s and Alfred’s delight.

His eldest son probably still had videos of it, he thought as he entered the vast and empty ballroom. There was nothing out of the ordinary or out of place and Bruce almost expected for his family to sneak up on him and surprise him when he noticed one last, black origami bat on the wooden floor, right in the center of the room.

He crouched down and unfolded it slowly, warily even, some would say.

Terrace on the second floor. You know, the one where I inelegantly asked you to marry me and you just stared for a good five minutes before laughing. (And saying yes, of course.)

It wasn’t signed and even if the message wasn’t telling enough, he would recognize that hasty scribble everywhere.

Bruce took off, climbing stairs two by two and running down hallways. His heart was pounding in his chest.

He had been gone for six months. Six excruciatingly long months of absolutely no contact, of not having any means to make sure his husband-to-be – yes, that idiot had asked him to marry him just before leaving – was still alive and well. Six months of worrying, of his children asking nervously if he had any news of his whereabouts.

Bruce barged through the French doors leading to the wide terrace on the second floor of the manor and, surely enough, everyone was there. Absolutely everyone.

“Happy birthday, Spooky. Half a century, we gotta celebrate,” Hal drawled with an easy grin.

“Someone take the cake away from Hal. Right now, before they ruin it!” Bruce heard someone say distantly and, next thing he knew, he had taken the few steps still separating them and was kissing Hal, holding him close by the lapels on his jacket.

There were groans, cheers and something that sounded a lot like someone telling them to get a room. Hal laughed against his lips, pecked him one last time before pulling away, opening his arms widely with a grin. A clear invitation for everyone to pile up on them which everyone took with great enthusiasm, barreling into them and crushing Bruce and Hal under their combined weight.

#batfam #bruce and his kids #that's it #batlantern #at the end #as a treat #cuz I love these old men #bruce wayne #batman #happy birthday batsy #this was supposed to be a short drabble i don't know what happened #clemwrites

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