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ezelium · 2 months

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IF THIS IS WHAT YOU CALL DEPENDENCE : dazai o.

⟡ CONTENT : your lover who abandoned you in the PM and avoided you for 4 years finally finds you in a familiar back alley.

⟡ WARNINGS : gn!reader , dazai is kinda head over heels , unhealthy (past) relationship , unhappy ending , one sided pining , slight spoilers , open ending , slight ooc , implied major character death/major injury , i didn't keep track of the wc but it's probably around 2k , lowercase writing , probably light angst , not proofread , mentions of alcohol .

⟡ GENRE : gen → oneshot (?)

⟡ A/N : man i used to write good like 2 years ago what happened to that.. i think i need to practice more (。＿。")

also this is SHORT but who cares

you weren't exactly sure what you would do after you lover's disappearance, but it was too late when you were notified of the news anyway. dazai osamu had disappeared on a random day, with no warnings nor any goodbyes.

4 years later, you've been greatly promoted to one of the executives of the port mafia. all your hard work and efforts were paid off. it really wasn't the worst, but you really couldn't excuse yourself for the most crimes you've committed. why were you in the mafia? why did you abandon your past life at the ripe ages of teen years? you weren't exactly sure. the underground wasn't a horrible place for you though.

you've loved many people, you've loved many individuals. 'why was he any different?' you might ask, he wasn't. at the end of the day, he's just another person, another man, an "ordinary" man. the difference was that he held a place in your heart.

to be exact, used to. after his bestfriends death, you never found him again.

he left.

it felt somewhat empty. maybe it was your heart missing the way he held you so tightly, or perhaps it was you missing the way his lips brushed against yours. in the end, your heart still longed for him. or did it? or did it want to fill in the gap? whatever it was, it sure did feel miserable.

chuuya was there for you, yeah, but it's not like you liked him romantically. he's your friend, not lover. you couldn't just get with anyone like that now, could you? you were getting carried away with your thoughts as usual. how lovely, when you had pillars of paperwork to work on. he never left your mind. you didn't like the fact that this topic always made you drift away.

your hand lazily grabbed the pen sitting near your said hand, and grabbed another papersheet to sign, fullfill, or whatever. what was this anyway? 7 sent e-mails were still waiting to be replied from your subordinates, it was almost the deadline. you had a long night in for you. the mafia wasn't exactly all about killing or so, it also came with other "irrelevant" work. luckily for you, you could easily get them done quickly. if only your subordinates weren't lazy jackasses that couldn't get something done ...

needless to say, you were tired. exhausted, even. after hours of non-stop work, you got out of the building to visit a certain street. a street you and he used to go to. that was a long time ago of course. but nevertheless, it still brought you comfort. when it rained it didn't bother you, when it was windy, gloomy or foggy, it never bothered you. the missing piece in your heart couldn't be returned, but at least this odd and dark alleyway could make up for it.

dazai too, was missed you from time to time. you were one of the only people that brought some light to his miserable and pathetic life, it felt stupid to just disappear. he was happier in the armed detective agency than he was in the mafia, but he felt like he didn't belong. was he a burden to them? he didn't want to burden them.

they were better off without him, right? but he couldn't go back to the mafia, right? he should keep his promise, right? he will tire them out someday, right?

this is how he thought most of the time. he felt like an idiot to to leave a person that "actually" wanted him. his self confidence was at low levels today for sure. there was no use crying over spilt milk, either. was he to follow his guts or was he to follow his head? or even his heart, in that matter?

these thoughts repeated over and over and over. it was repetitive, and boring. he was sick of it, he felt sick to the stomach when he thought of you. not because of you being yourself, but because of his past self. he swears he changed though.

the way he used to use you for his gain and his own selfishness back in the old days, made him feel disgusted. how did he not see your worth? you made him eat his heart out. he loved you. he loved you and he didn't recognize your worth. was it too late to fix his mistakes? slacking off today wasn't a great idea perhaps, considering he had to face his thoughts like this.

the couch felt soft and warm as he laid on it with fewer bottles of heavy alcohol sitting next to him. it was nearing midnight, stars were shining the best they can. nights of yokohama were always unsettling and comforting in the best way possible, or maybe that was just the weight he had on his shoulders for years now.

finding a purpose wasn't easy. nothing was. this world was too complicated for a logical man like him. he didn't see the meaning, it was absurd, annoying, and whatever else. he tried to fit in.

no matter how bad he felt, you always found a way to make him feel better. oh, how he missed your soft hugs, your sweet words, your gentleness with him. you were patient and willing to go through all this with him, but that was not the case. he felt as if he was in a daze, and alcohol wasn't helping. if anything, it made him think of more absurd things, which I'm sure nobody would want.

again, he left because of oda's wishes, yes. he promised to change, to protect, to be better. however that meant leaving you in the dark. he didn't think twice before leaving, and remorse was all he felt. he could've thought about it a few times, but maybe in another universe you two are together..

now no need to go over the same thoughts and points over and over again, it makes the story boring doesn't it? — he wasn't sleepy at all, and he definitely wasn't in the mood to go out from some alcohol at all. whatever he could do, maybe he could calm his longing heart by going to that old passage.

you on the other hand, were already there while he was thinking of coming. what a coincidence; though you were unaware of that. your hair fluttered as the wind slowly picked up; black, dusty walls looking as grim as ever. nothing really had changed over the years. the same boxes, the same webs, the same rats never disappeared, it was a home to them as much as it was a home to you. that was lovely, at least it wasn't a bleak situation. you weren't alone.

your feet dangled slowly as you sat on one of the said boxes, not caring of the dust that'll catch on your clothes. who cared anyway at this point? you just needed comfort for once. at least this street was calmer than your workplace, nobody was here to disturb you.

or so you thought. after 20 minutes after you arrived, some light footsteps were alerting the presence of an "intruder". you were quick to catch on and put on your guard; silently getting behind those old pieces of wood. yes the mean the boxes.

and dazai, was quick to catch on that somebody was there. his footsteps faltered for the minute being, sensing and looking around before continuing walking. after he turned the corner, it was a surprise to see him all up in your face.

He. he was here. the shock on both of your faces were evident and you both saw each other's expression, there's no purpose to play around after that. he stopped in short surprise as he saw you, muscles tensing as he acknowledged that it was actually you.

"Ahh, ah. My sweet [name] is here?" he snickered, his words were nothing but meaningless. his voice was as sweet as sugar, but the depth was as hollow as ever. he didn't mean anything to you. no, he didn't, nope. no way. you can't forgive him after what he's done, can you.

he slowly moved his hand upwards; the slow movement indicating nothing but his hesitancy. but you weren't going to let him do whatever you want. just with the blink of an eye — a cold metal piece was against his chest. upon realisation, he took a very, very short step back. he still wasn't sure what to make of the situation at hand.

you got out of the shadow of those boxes, making a small wood bar fall in progress. it hit the ground, making a noise that's louder than it should make. he brought his hands to the silver plate of your gun, his smile not faltering as he looked at you. he was tipsy, but he was still aware of his surroundings. and he was going to work this out.

his eyes weren't giving away anything, no, far from that. he seemed.. happy. he opened his mouth to say something; but you swiftly cut him off. you had better stuff to do than get distracted by his sweet nothings. perhaps he really didn't change. perhaps it's futile.

"i won't hesitate to pull," you warned, pushing the muzzle harder into his chest and steadying your finger around the trigger. your expression was blank, your teeth were clenched. you were angry at him, and had every right to be angry at him. his teasing smile faded the moment your finger tightened around the trigger. a hint of alarm and wariness took over, briefly clouding his bravado.

he wasn't sure if he was facing the same old you. the same old you would be kinder, more softer to him, your older self would be more tolerant to him. he was expecting the same treatment out of his selfishness. yet he wasn't sure what to do after you didn't, so he asked: "what happened to you?"

"what happened to me?" you quickly repeated, not sure what to make of his question either. the question made no sense overall, you just had grown is all. how could he not expect a change after 4 years? at the end it's finally done. actually maybe even he was late; maybe you two just showered each other in lies.

dazai paused for a few seconds, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought of what to say. there was no smile, no nothing. "you weren't like this. this isn't the [name] I know." he said, features changing into dour ones. he thought this would be a more calm talk, a more civil one. yet there he was, with the muzzle of a gun against his heart, by his past lover.

you didn't even want to associate with him anymore, it felt oddly pointless. as if you wanred to give up on him. "i'd call that an achievement. yet you're the same osamu I know." ouch. that hit a little too close to home, didn't it? he was trying to change, but he wasn't sure himself if he was putting any effort. and that sentence you just uttered out of your mouth, reminded him of that.

he knew you wanted to give up on him. he knew it. he knew it. he knew it. despite this, he still loved you. he did. he knew. he did. he knew he did. he still screwed this up.

he felt miserable like this, he knew he fucked up. he knew he messed up real bad this time, and you weren't showing him mercy anymore. he wasn't deserving of another chance anyway. "just hear me out- please." he pleaded, his voice softening. he wanted to be close to you, a gentle expression was all he could make. his hand, ignoring the gun, tried touching yours for the briefest of moments.

you clenched your teeth even harder, just how desperate could he get? "there's no point, dazai." he hated it when you called him by his lastname. it felt as if you were getting further away from him. he didn't want that— the opposite. this really turned out bad. this isn't what he expected, at all. on situations like this, it usually would go like how he wanted it. but this wasn't it. nope, no way. that took a wrong turn, just because he was surprised for a minute.

now that just confirmed how hopeless of a situation it was. he just wanted you back, but you weren't even letting him explain. no, he didn't seem panicked. that's far from the truth. his words were straightforward as they can be, as if they were scripted to come out that way. his hand was on yours now, "you aren't even letting me make amends." his thumb brushed your hand, the bandages adding in extra texture. he wasn't in the mood to deal with this today.

you huffed in response. you were fed up. you were doubting if you actually loved him. you may need to think this over again, now was the time that you're sure you didn't miss him, but rather- your heart just wanted the missing piece inside of it filled. you were sure you weren't blind to love a bastard like this. "you could've at least said goodbye. i was miserable, and yet i still loved you. i knew you were using me. i honestly regret that i ever loved you. why would i let you make amends?"

as much as emotions clouded his judgement, your anger was clouding your own judgement too. the last thing you wanted for him to do now was to try and win you over again, which he was most likely about to do if you didn't intervene. but he was idiotic and selfish right? you couldn't trust him, you couldn't trust such a manipulator who used you in the past.

"[name], my love, it's—"

"don't call me that." you retorted, voice dropping. those words contained nothing but disdain at him.

he paused, "don't tell me things that you don't mean."

"i do mean them more than you think."

"oh really now?"

agghnttmh thank you for reading everyone! <3 i wrote this in 2 days, something i thought was impossible really.. im sorry if its shorter towards the end, i started with so much motivation but finished with so less. therefore, it's kinda short and messy :(

please do tell me if i should write a second part for this, im actually invested but this is all that was supposed to be in this part!

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kairiscorner · 8 months

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the confounding case of dr. o'hara. — miguel o'hara x gnreader

✧ summary: your first ever real patient out in the field as a criminal psychologist, and it's the recently caught supervillain, dr. miguel o'hara; a disgraced genius geneticist that supposedly went insane after a freak accident that not only worsened his hunger for rapture, but also turned him into a horrifying spider mutant. you had to be wary around him, anything you could tell him could make him try something risky... but what he wants with you now that he's gotten a whiff of you and your scent is something far more than just risky... he wants your life, but not to take it, but rather, for you to willingly submit yourself to him and only him. ✧ pairing: miguel o'hara x criminal psychologist!reader ✧ genre: (honestly idk, it's not fully fluff but not fully angst nor comfort either ... ? tis just a guilty pleasure fic ig !) ✧ author's note: this is inspired by the lovely kimmy's art on twt !! I'M SORRY, IDK MUCH ABOUT THE DETAILS ON DR JEKYLL AND MR HYDE, I DIDN'T WANNA BUTCHER ANYTHING AND I HOPE I DIDN'T !! i mixed some traits between joker, gomez addams, and some elements of the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde ! ... i hope y'all like this :'DDD AND I'M SO SORRY FOR THE SHITTY SPANISH FGIRUFBUIRBIURTB google translate is all i got .......

i. the scent of honey and a vision of an angel.

pages and leaflets of the mountains of cases against this man successfully made you shiver at the sound of his name–you couldn't believe just how little remorse he had for every crime he had ever committed written down in these records, it was like being in the scenes of a true crime documentary; it didn't feel real that you were going to speak to the very man himself and see just why he committed all those crimes... and why he could only smile at the thought of wreaking so much havoc. you took in a deep breath and walked into the hall where his cell was in, taking cautious steps as you heard the leaking of pipes and the dripping of water accumulating into puddles the further down the hall you entered.

you had no idea why, as a rookie, your first patient would have to be a criminal mastermind—but you needed all the experience you could get, not many people in your field at your level of expertise get the chance to talk to high-profile criminals like him; and you were far more professional and knowledgeable at your job compared to your colleagues in the academy; surely this wouldn't be too bad... right? well, the minute you saw the light coming from his cell, you were greeted to the sight of a hunched over man, sitting quietly at the center of the room with his back turned to the glass in front of you. you gently tapped at the glass, but that didn't catch his attention. "i know you can hear me." you spoke as you tried to get him to turn around again, but he still didn't budge. you rolled your eyes and sat down on a chair across from his cell; preparing to ask him questions that he probably won't even answer.

you introduced yourself as a freshly graduated criminal psychologist from nueva york university, you hoped he would cooperate with you and give you reasons as to why he committed his crimes, explaining to him that he could get a much more lenient punishment if he could explain his side of the story as to why such a once well-respected man had spiraled into such a morbid life of crime. you heard a low chuckle rumble from the other side of the glass, and that low rumble became more audible, all the way until he was cackling loudly; the sounds reverberating throughout the rubber-padded white walls and rang throughout the glass. the cackling soon faltered out and ceased, you felt the hairs on your body stand up as you heard every octave of his maniacal laughter–you'd think that years of case studies and witnessing firsthand from your mentors that dealing with people like him wouldn't be too challenging or disturbing, but this experience proved you to be wrong, so terribly wrong.

as the laughter died down, the corner of the man's smile showed from behind his long, shaggy unkempt wispy hair; and when he turned around to face you, you saw that his eyes were a dark shade, they were bloodshot and crimson, they were deathly, and you knew he was far more dangerous than any other criminal could contend with. the man grimaced and slowly creeped his head around over his shoulder to get a good look at you. his body followed suit and gradually turned to face you, the brown restraints on his white, yet stained, straightjacket made him look both pitiful and dangerous all at once. suddenly, the man slowly got up and wobbled over to you–it was as though he had gone days, maybe weeks, without walking; could he have stayed in that position this whole time before you came to see him?

the man's gaze was bearing into your own, his eyes not leaving yours as his grimace widened; the corners of his smile reaching his ears as he chuckled every now and then in a delusional daze. his chin and cheeks were dotted with stubbles and hints of fuzz and a beard–he had gone days without shaving, either, it seemed. he pressed his forehead against the glass and stared down at you, and only then were you able to understand how big he was; about 200 centimeters and counting, and yet, he was able to be restrained... he was frightening, and he knew you thought that of him.

"...miel..." the sound escaped his lips, the first word he spoke in a long while. you looked up at him in fear and gulped, writing down what you heard. "...w-what?" you asked him, hoping he'd repeat the word. the man's grin widened creepily as he slowly opened his mouth to speak again, and a dribble of saliva dripped down his chin as he stared at you, hungrily, like a starved predator cornering its prey. "miel, mi cariño, it's... honey, sweet as... shocking honey, making me hungry..." he murmured out, hid constant breathing fogging up the glass. you moved your chair back a little and cleared your throat, making miguel press his face against the glass even further as you moved away from him. he thumped his forehead against the glass, making you jolt a little and look at him. he stared at you from underneath his eyelashes and smirked widely.

"don't... don't escape me, mi tesoro... c'mon, it's been... too damn long since i've had such a pretty little thing come here and look so shocking ravishing–" he gushed and mumbled as his breath quickened and his smile got even wider, but seeing as how uncomfortable and tense he made you, he, surprisingly, quit that and moved away a little from the glass. he hung his head in what appeared to be frustration, and mumbled in a hused tone, "ah, quiero arrancarte esa blusa... but i can tell..." he whispered as he sat down closely to the glass and leaned his head forward, looking at you with a sly grin. "you don't like men who are that straightforward, do you?" he asked you as he watched every little move and twitch your body made, sinking in all the details about you as he muttered to himself, twitching as well at your little responsive gestures that said more than words ever could help you articulate the feelings he was giving you right then and there.

he chuckled as he watched you restlessly fidget in your seat, darting your gaze away from him as much as you could. "you're so cute, mi amor... keep that up and i might just really break out of here, i finally have a reason to now that your pretty little face showed up." he said, gazing at you all... lovingly as he smiled the more you stuttered out the next thing you wanted to say. "...there is... literally nothing you'll get out of smooth talking me." you said defiantly as miguel chuckled aloud again, rocking himself back and forth in ecstasy. "you're not only cute, smart, and snarky, but a bad liar too... eso me excita, sabes?" he teased you as he stuck his tongue out, a couple of smuggled piercings on the tip of his tongue gleamed as he did so, making you a little more tense as before. he hummed to himself as he looked at you with an even more sultry, desperate look on his angled face. "you're like an angel... you'll be known as mi angel from now on, okay, mi ángel? keep visiting me more often, mi ángel, i need to be reminded miracles can happen... even to scum like me." he whispered as you looked away from him, making him whimper and beg for you to look at him in spanish and english.

"por favor no me hagas esperar… mírame, mi ángel..." he pleaded with you as he got on his knees and pouted, showing off his lower lip as he gave you such big, sad eyes that tried to convince you to look his way. though he tried to appear less menacing and pathetic, you knew this was just a front of his to get you to do something for him, maybe to get him out? to take his place for him? to... oh, you couldn't even jump to that conclusion, because there's no way that—

"i desperately need you, mi ángel... please, look my way, my little angel... come closer, i need to smell your... your honey-like scent again, it drives me crazy, crazy with love, mi ángel, you can't even imagine..." he begged of you, leaning his forehead against the glass again, sobbing audibly as you sighed. would you look him for a second time? would you kindly let him get a whiff of you again and crave for you? he would never hurt you if you did, of course not; angels aren't meant to be hurt, and you, his darling little angel, would never be hurt around him... he'll do everything to make sure you won't be, and no restraints will ever hold him back from getting his strong, toned arms around your beautiful body, around his little angel, once and for all.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce @oxrchd

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 fanfiction #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fanfiction

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borahaerhy · 2 years

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Dealer (3) - myg

Summary: Your boyfriend seemed like a dream come true: always wanting to be around you, making sure you would get home safe, never taking his hands off you. These little comforts became your whole world, and then the only thing you were allowed to have left in the world. Luckily, your boyfriends drug dealer turned out to be a much nicer guy.

Pairing: DrugDealer!Yoongi x Female!Reader

Genre: Mafia/drug kingpin au, Y/N coming from nothing, found family, Eventual smut

Warnings: A concerning father-son relationship, More of Zeke being lowkey insane, New BTS member introduced!, hitmen, a dead body, a lot of other smaller stuff but only referenced and it has to do with the hitmen, so yk what to expect.

Word count: 1.5k (Ik short as fuck, apologies <3)

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Note: If you are sensitive or triggered by abusive relationships or manipulation in any way, please do not read this fic, it can be very triggering. It will also be referenced that Y/n used to self harm, and has self-harm scars. This is fic is going to cover a lot of intense topics, and there will be a lot of drugs.

“Goddamn it, Zeke, calm the fuck down so I can actually understand what you’re saying,” Jeff had honestly been sick of his nephew’s bullshit for a very long time. Sat hunched over his desk, half paying attention to Zeke and half paying attention to the papers on his desk that should be consuming his entire focus.

“They fucking took Y/n, Jeff. Someone came in here and fucking kidnapped her; and I know exactly who did it,” Zeke’s voice was easier to understand, but shaking with the kind of rage that would scare anyone.

Anyone except Jeff, that is.

“So you want me to take the guy out and get your little girlfriend back?” Zeke started yelling again, not pleased with his uncle's disrespectful tone, but to put it simply, his response was “yes”. Jeff sighed, not wanting to waste any of his good men’s efforts on some low-grade pot dealer. He moved a few people around, checked to see who was available.

Not wanting to send the guy who has yet to do a solo mission, he called in ole reliable.

“Jay, get your ass in here,” He called someone on the buisness phone on his desk, after finally getting Zeke to hang up after assuring him he'd get you back. He hung up before they could even get a word in edgewise, and two minutes later, a man walked in in a baggy hoodie and sweatpants, hair disheveled and hands in his pockets as he slouched in his place.

“Yeah boss?” Jeff looked up at his son, sighing at his disheveled appearance in the middle of the afternoon.

“I’ve got a job for you. Names Min Yoongi, he’s a low-level drug dealer whose kidnapped someone. I need you to kill him and get her back,” Before Jeff could finish his sentence, his son had already pulled out his phone and looked for the name on any public records, then to see if he was affiliated with anyone.

“No,” He slid his phone back in his pocket and turned around, ready to walk back up to his room and go back to sleep.

“Jay, you’re going to want to do this one-”

“Nah, I don’t think so. He hasn’t committed any major crimes or atrocities. He’s never hurt anyone, never sold anything harder than some weed, and he volunteers at animal shelters in his free time; I’m not killing him.”

Jeff looked at his son with animosity, clenching his jaw as he began to type in a new number. As Jay began to turn around again, about to go back to bed for real this time, the other line picked up.

“Min Yoongi, mid-sized drug dealer on the south side, kidnapped my nephew’s girlfriend. Kill him, get her and bring her back here. You have an hour.”

Fuck.

That was a fucking setup.

Jay finished walking out of the door and ran up to his bedroom, needing to find out where you were as soon as possible.

“Oh, Y/n, this is my cousin, Jay.” You reached your hand out to shake his, bright smile on your faces as Zeke’s arm pulled you tighter into his side.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Y/n,” He bowed slightly while your hands were shaking before he stood back up and let go.

“Don’t mind him, his mom raised him for a while in Korea before they moved back here.” Zeke’s comment was meant to be insulting, but you had only been fascinated.

“You grew up in Korea?” Jay’s smile returned to his face, not used to meeting people that had associated with his family that were interested in his culture.

“Yeah, only until I was 11 though. Then we moved back here so I could meet the rest of my family.”

“Wow, that must’ve been a hard transition at such a young age. Did you know any English when you moved here?” He was almost taken back from the emotion he could see spelled out on your sweet face. He couldn’t help but keep smiling, even at the thought of one of the worst periods of his life.

“I knew a little; basic English is taught in most schools in Korea at a very young age. But it wasn’t so bad, I still had my mom,” You smiled at his facial expression only getting warmer as he mentioned his mother again. The two of you had sat and spoken for hours, Zeke never leaving your side, but rarely ever interjecting in your conversation. He sat near and spoke to the other members of his family, mostly of how weird it was that Jay was even talking to anyone, and how annoying it had been that it was you that he was talking to.

The family gathering had come to an end hours after the sun had set and the food had been packed up and stored back in the house. You were saying goodbye to everyone as Zeke stood beside the car at the side of the road, annoyed and ready to leave.

“It was really nice to meet you, Jay,” You spoke softly as he engulfed you into a hug that lasted a bit longer than it should’ve - something Zeke definitely made sure you knew after you got back home.

“My name’s actually Jimin,” You looked slightly confused as you pulled away from the hug. Jimin smiled. “No one here likes to acknowledge that I’m Korean now that my mom’s gone. Easier to pretend she never existed when my name's Jay.” You smiled again, this one slightly more sad than the previous bright ones you held so proudly upon your beautiful lips.

“Well, Jimin, it was very nice to meet you. You can call me anytime,” You smiled and hugged him again briefly before making your way back to the car.

Jimin had watched you walking away, and then never saw or heard from you again. He messaged you a few times but he never got any response. He had always known his cousin was not the best person from the time they had spent together as children. Sure, Jimin was a hitman, but Zeke was a million times more fucked up than he could ever even imagine being.

Though, trying to think positively, he just hoped you had accidentally given him the wrong number. Not that you had lost your phone privileges from being too ‘overly flirtatious’ with him.

Jimin arrived at Yoongi’s house only 20 minutes after the newbie had gotten there. His car still being there wasn’t a good sign. Jimin sighed as he pulled on latex gloves and grabbed his Glock out of the glove box of his car. He got out and held the gun down by his side, being sure to be aware of every movement that was happening in the surrounding neighborhood as he made his way up to the front door.

Dumbass.

Jimin sighed as he pushed open the broken door, bewildered as to how he thought it was a good idea to shoot through the front door of a suburban neighborhood.

Right inside the front door was the body of the man whose name Jimin could not remember, but was definitely the guy his father had sent on the job. The blood had stopped flowing from his as if it was all already completely drained from the pale face of someone that couldn’t be more than 20 years old; probably just trying to make enough money to support his family or pay off some debts.

He sighed as he swept the house, making sure there wasn’t anyone else here before he made his way back out to the car, dialing his father’s number as he went.

“Speak.”

“New guy’s dead, looks like our low-level dug dealer is a little more than that,” Jimin put the phone on speaker as he pulled his lap top out of the back seat of his car and got to work.

“I trust you’ll take care of it from here?”

“On it boss.”

It took Jimin less than an hour to get a clean-up crew in and out of the house, and had guards posted all around the neighborhood to keep watch on the house to see if anyone should return; and was sitting in some random parking lot trying to find anything on him that might suggest where he would have gone next.

Every car, weapon and address listed as belonging to him at any point in time, and any known affiliates that he had. Aside from other mid to low-level drug dealers and the person who sold the drugs to them, there was only one other person he was known to be acquainted with.

Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin had been on their radar for quite some time; having had several hits put out on him in the past. They stopped accepting hits on him when everyone sent out to take care of him had never been seen again; no body, no trace, nothing. Even the people who hired them to kill him had gone missing seemingly overnight without a trace.

Jimin groaned loudly as started his car and headed off to the only place he swore he’d never go.

I just hope I can get to them before they get to Seokjin.

Taglist: @pamzn @fvcuidk @cybm1n @limiworld @scuzmunkie @hyunjingin @nellyboosworld @giselleg7784 @zaeve @lovelgirl22 @rosquilleta @kooliv @bangtannie7 @strawberryjimin13 @anjoellamorte @limitlessdespondency @lalaoise @roxy1205 @lavender-ivy @orangecarrotlemon @billy-jeans23

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vickyvicarious · 7 months

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"Why not go on?" I asked. She shook her head, and, coming back, sat down in her place. Then, looking at me with open eyes, as of one waked from sleep, she said simply:— "I cannot!" and remained silent. I rejoiced, for I knew that what she could not, none of those that we dreaded could. Though there might be danger to her body, yet her soul was safe!

Somehow, I had thought last year that Van Helsing was bunking down with Mina inside the wafer circle. But it doesn't seem that he is, since here he mentions the fire being outside of it, and later on when they're being circled by the vampire ladies, he attributes his own safety to the holy wafer he is holding up at them, and Mina's to the circle.

This is interesting on a couple of levels, because on the one hand it points pretty definitively towards him not feeling safe resting next to her. It makes me feel like he really strongly suspects he might've been drunk from the night before, or at least that he fears she might do so tonight. And yet, he is also willing to give her all the surefire protection, and rely on only a wafer in the hand for himself. He didn't even make himself a separate circle. I suspect his supply is finally running low and he wants to make sure he has enough for the job in the morning/anything that might have to be done with Dracula, so he's trying to save the rest. That means that him giving up some of his finite supply is a real sacrifice, one which again places her own safety over his own. He's holding true to his promise to protect her to the fullest extent of his abilities, regardless of the risk to himself. If he faltered in his vigilance during the night, he could have fallen prey to the vampire women.

EDIT: disregard the above paragraph, literally right after posting I noticed that he does (and Mina also) actually mention he is in the circle too, haha. Guess I had reason for thinking that before, and this was more a brainfart moment. But actually that raises the question of how much is he trusting her, here. I still feel like he fears her a lot at this point but even after he sees she cannot cross the line he stays within it with her, which is a big show of deliberate trust in a way. Maybe his supply is running low so he doesn't know if he has enough for a second circle, but still. He's choosing to believe in her and to take the best interpretation of her reaction here.

Of course, there's also the risk of wolves for both of them. But he says he is happy because her soul will be safe, even if Mina could be killed by wolves. Is he taking comfort that the vampire women can't get to her? Well, that seems to be the case, but at the same time, it doesn't make much sense because Van Helsing is the one who has repeatedly said Mina is doomed to turn when she dies regardless of what kills her at this point. So I don't really think that's it. I think it's that, not only can the vampire women (or Van Helsing if they turn him, or even Dracula if he returns) not get to her, but also if Mina dies for any reason, if she finishes turning, she can't leave. She'll remain in the circle, and he will at least save her soul from the crimes it would commit as a vampire, by holding her in place and preventing her from ever committing them. None of the other vampires can approach so they can't let her out. The only way she gets out is if someone human helps her (and Van Helsing is the only one around for miles), or if she regains enough humanity to do so on her own (which will happen if they kill Dracula as planned).

Her reaction to the vampire women gives him hope that it's really not too late for her, and later on he takes comfort in her pale and ill appearance, but it kinda seems like he was planning for ways to minimize the harm to her soul even in a worst-case scenario.

#dracula daily #van helsing #mina murray #d'oh

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a-sparrows-melody · 1 month

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Mary On A Cross

"Why?" his voice rasps, low and brittle, as if a strong gust of wind can break him now. He is kneeling on the ground, shaking and trembling. His ragged and torn robes are only a reminder of what had once been.

"Why?" he asks me again, when I remain passive. His expression now mirrors what I felt inside, disgust and fury and pity. The wind picks up speed, and his brown hair blows haphazardly around his face, caked with mud and sweat. His ivory-coloured, linen robes are dirty and full of holes.

I have him at my mercy, yet his brown eyes - so full of fractured hopes and emotions - hold level with my own, as if impertinence will help him this time. His expression changes as fast as the wind switches directions. He is smug now, his chapped lips ticking up a bit at the corner. I am anxious, so anxious, but I don't dare to show it on my face, knowing this is the reaction he is looking for.

"Would you kill me? Would you kill me?" He mocks me, his eyes searching my face for a chink in the armour, any sort of affirmation. I had never been known as a killer, a murderer. His brown eyes stare at me, unblinking and confident - though I know he knows his time has come.

And now I doubt whether he is at my mercy or I am at his.

My arms are growing heavy, the adrenaline is wearing off. The battle exhaustion is catching up with me and the cut on my side is throbbing painfully, the blood trickling down. I feel woozy now. I have to make a decision fast.

I need all I have in me to try to forget that I love him, but I can't. I need to finish this now. Before I lose my nerve. Before either he fulfills the prophecy, or I do.

"So weak. Look at you," he chuckles mirthlessly, breathlessly.

Finally, I speak.

"Your beauty never, ever scared me," my voice is wobbly and cracking at the end and I want to cry right now.

And then I plunge the sword into where his heart should be, while his face is pulled up in a tiny smile as if he knew this would happen.

What have I done?

"Only for you, my love," he croaks out as he finally gives up. His eyes never leave mine. There is an obnoxious ringing in my ears and I am hyperaware of all my wounds. My vision is zooming in and out and I cannot focus. Not now, not now, not now.

It's too late. I fall to the ground, my knees banging painfully (although everything is painful now). I don't see the way he smiles at me, genuine and unwavering. I don't see the way his crimson blood stains his ivory robes, spreading like an infection. I don't see the way his eyes searched for mine one last time.

I press my lips against his chapped ones, eyes shut so tight, looking for that little jolt of life, hoping he would know that I love him, I love him, I love him so much that when I killed him, I killed a part of myself so deeply intertwined with mine that the pain would be equivalent to ripping my organs out one by one. I pull away, confused and bloodied. His expression doesn't change. His body is still warm.

It doesn't quite register, what I've done. I am living in a haze, and deluding myself into thinking his brown eyes still hold some emotion, no matter how glassy and inanimate they are. That his smile is private and only for me.

It doesn't quite register until I see my friends across the barren ground, stained with blood as I am, knotted, mangled hair and ripped clothes like mine, waving at me and smiling as if I hadn't just committed a sin.

The grief washes over me, the haze around my brain is turning red, cement is filling around my lungs and I can't breathe knowing the full extent of my crime. I cannot live without him. I cannot.

But I know what to do. This is the only thing I am sure of.

I pull the sword out by it's jeweled hilt, and it comes with a sickening sound, dripping blood and gooey organs. His face remains the same, his smile is horrific. I love him.

I press the point of the weapon to my chest (which stings a bit) and stare at my friends, and watch their expression turn to horror. One of them runs towards me, but I can't make out who because my eyes are filled with tears now.

I turn away. "Your beauty never, ever scared me," I whisper to him, too tired to speak, even though I know he can't hear me.

The pain is barely there as I press the sword into my chest.

And in my last moments, when I am unsure of whether I alive or dead, I can see him, his face lit up with happiness and colors and love for me. He is running towards me, and now he is holding me close against his warm chest, whispering that we are okay and he loves me, and it is all I can do to not bawl like a baby with the shock and pain of it all.

Death comes toward me with its black robes billowing, and I welcome it like an old friend.

-X-

Prompt was "Your beauty never ever scared me" from Mary on a Cross (the song). It's very cliche, I am quite aware, but let me have my something sweet. If you didn't understand what the hell I just wrote (I don't blame you, I barely understand either), the hero kills the villain (who always knew the hero would kill him) and then kills himself because they are secretly in love and are dating and this is all just one big misunderstanding that led to a war.

In an attempt to engage with you readers more, what's your comfort ship?

#hero x villain #writers on tumblr #creative writing #mary on a cross #love #lgbtq #flash fiction #random shit #tw death #DEATH #spilled ink

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auroragehenna · 8 months

Text

AI-less Whumptober

Day 12 Self harm, Sacrifice, Character death

TW/CW: Fights, punches, mockery, intimate whumper, chin tilt, low paintolerance whumpee, scared whumpee, implied kidnapping Word count: 872

The young hero approached him carefully. Almost in awe. He disliked it. It’s just his power. Aside from that he was just like them. Just now he was on his way to eat the shitty food from the agency’s cafeteria.

“Superhero! There’s a message from ‘control’ for you!”

“From Control?”, he asked. Looks like there would be no lunch today.

“Yeah. Sounded pretty urgent.”, hero panted out.

Okay so it wasn’t an internal conflict. Definitely no lunch. “Got it. Thanks Kai.”

The boy looked confused, as if he was genuinely surprised he knew his name.

Superhero stood there for a few more awkward moments and then turned around and walked towards control. By now he knew the labyrinth-like halls of the agency by heart. Five minutes later he knocked on the slick metal door.

The two wings of the door pulled back into the walls and Superhero entered. “What is it this time? Amenesias?”

“No. Not Amenesias, we haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Him.”, Superhero corrected.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway somebody else. A new villain. And as long as we don’t know more…-”

“-It’s better if I go check it out, just to be safe.”, Superhero finished their sentence.

“Just so nobody gets hurt.” They smiled.

“Sure.”, Superhero said. Ignoring the rumbling of his stomach. “Let me just get my stuff.”

Half an hour later Superhero was in full gear and had nearly caught up to Villain. They were committing some low-level crimes in the inner city but Superhero was not going to underestimate them because of it. There! They turned around a corner and saw them. A hooded figure was casually walking down the street and cutting things in half. Cars, Benches, hydrants. Superhero couldn’t see how they were doing that just yet but it didn’t matter. They’d be fine. So they sneaked up closer. Only go get hit in the side by a wave of asphalt. He flew into the next building and to the ground. Superhero took a run-up with his legs and pushed himself up with his arms. “Terra.”, what a pleasant surprise.”, they called out.

A malicious laugh was all they heard in response.

"Come out here so I can finish this and work on the actual threat.”, he provoked matter-of-factly.

Next a streetlamp hit him from behind. He got thrown forward onto all fours and used the momentum to roll forward into a handstand and push himself up again. Just in time to see Terra lunge at him. He blocked his stone punch with his left arm and buried his right hand in the villain’s hair. Then he let himself fall and pulled Villain down with him. They dropped to the ground and Superhero straddled Villain and pulled out the gas spewer. A few seconds after they hit the trigger Terra’s body fell limb. Superhero quickly locked their wrists in the power supressing cuffs and then spun around to look for the hooded figure. They were leaning against a sliced car, perfectly calm, watching them.

Superhero stood up and turned around to them. “So what’s your deal, hood-guy?”

“I could ask you the same question. You have some kind of shield?”, hooded asks.

“Just lucky, I guess.”, Superhero replies. And just a moment after his stomach grumbles loudly. He cursed it in his mind.

Hooded cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, definitely, lucky…Tell me do they always use you as cannon-fodder?”

“I’m literally the best choice. To help out if need be and scoop out newcomers. Like you. And since you’re wasting time trying to get into my head you apparently don’t have more to offer than your little slicing.”, Superhero says dryly.

“Hmm, you’re not completely wrong, that is indeed what I’m best at. But I am not limited to only that.”

“Alright. Enough of this.”, Superhero cut in harshly and lunged at the hooded figure.

The figure hurriedly makes a swift flick motion and a scream rips through the air.

Superhero’s scream…

He drops to his knees, hand reaching up to his torse and coming back bloodied. He stares at it, eyes wide in terror. Breath picking up exponentially. Then suddenly two feet enter his vision and a hand sneaks under his chin and tilts it up. Until his wide eyes meet the sinister sparkling eyes of the hooded figure.

“Well, well, well. Looks like you finally found your match little one.”

Tears were welling up in Superhero’s eyes. “It hurts.”

“Aw you really have no idea of pain do you.”, the hooded figure cooed. Superhero whimpered and the sound was heaven to his ears. “Gooosh you’re perfect! Technically I only wanted to scoop out the competition and cause a little trouble. But I think I’m going to change my plans. And you’re coming with me little one. You can call me Supervillain.”

“N-No I-I don’t wanna.”, Superhero whimpered.

Hood-guy lifted his arm and lightly moved his fingers. “Do you want another taste?”

Superhero frantically shook their head.

“Now then. Come on.”

“They’ll-ugh-they’ll search for me!”, Superhero groaned out.

Supervillain only laughed. “I thought you were cleverer than that little one. You remember Amenesias?”

Superhero paled.

“There you go, finally clicked. Now get up and come here before I make you!”

This idea came to me randomly and it blew up on discord. So I wrote it

Taglist: @yourlocalgaefae33, @princessofhe11, @greatkittencloud, @bisexuawolfsalt, ( @eatyourdamnpears, @diamond-flavored-n whump, @sodacreampuff, @suspicious-whumping-egg, ), @ailesswhumptober

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stephenjaymorrisblog · 1 year

Text

This Moment in History

June 9, 2023

Stephen Jay Morris

©Scientific Morality

Written documents like this are photos, frozen in time at the very moment of their inception. Through these, I can reflect on the past or the present. The future, of course, is unknown. In my current moment in time, the former U.S. president, Trump, will be indicted in some federal court for crimes he committed. Now, on the cyber bulletin-board, Twitter, his followers are raging. The formal indictment will take place in federal court in Miami, Florida this coming Tuesday. His followers are calling for a massive protest. I couldn’t even guess how it would turn out. Will there be a low turnout? Will there be a violent riot? Will there be a counter demonstration? How about a police riot? Maybe nothing will happen at all. It’s a game of wait and see. I am sure glad I am a mere Homosapien and not omniscient, like God. Every tomorrow is a surprise to me. If I was God, I would have knowledge of every future event. I do pity God. He must live forever—a prisoner of infinity. Me? If I am lucky, I’ll live until I am 85, maybe 93 tops. I can feel pain, pleasure, boredom, anger, love, sickness, good health, hunger, horniness, hatred, and envy. I embrace my mortality; I do not resent it. I was nonexistent before I was born, and I’ll be nonexistent after I die; which brings me to my next point…

Pat Robertson, founder of the Christian conservative movement, has died. You know the old expression: Only the good die young. Well, Pat was 93 when he kicked the bucket—a long life. He started the Trinity Broadcast Company, by which he had some TV show called “The 700 Club.” His voice was suave but came off as a mush mouth. He had this chuckle that sounded like a sociopath laughing after having killed someone. He was a fake Christian. His followers would put their hand on their TV sets and pray for their salvation, then they’d send him money! I think that’s what’s known as grifting. It’s bad enough that of most his followers were exploited by Capitalism and taxes, but God picked their pockets, also! Most of these pastors tell their parishioners that giving money to them is equal to giving money to God. Yup! That’s the scam! You don’t need a pastor. All you need to do is to read the fuckin’ bible! Unless you’re some wealthy individual, you don’t even need an accountant; you can do your own taxes!

Early this month, Canada had some big wildfires burning across its southern forests, similar to when Australia did. Canada always sends us rain and snow, and other shitty weather. They also send us their social deviants like Steven Crowder and Gavin McInnes. “The Proud Boys” was started by some Canadian Illegal Alien! “America First,” my ass! Well, guess where Canada’s toxic, wildfire smoke ended up? Throughout the Northeast Coast!

One morning last week, I went outside. At first, it was like a foggy day. Soon, the sky was an eerie orange, like Trump’s face, and there was an odor in the air like a fireplace in Poland. Smoke! I quit smoking six years ago, and here I was inhaling this exceedingly, unhealthy smoke again! I thought the Catskill Mountains were on fire. Pamela went to the post office and learned that the smoke was coming from fires in Canada. She said the employees advised that we stay indoors and close our windows. News reports soon related that the air over the entire northeast region was at an exceeding high, unhealthy level. New York City was featured in the news as having been engulfed in smoke for over three days. The New York Yankees game was canceled.

Was this a sign of God’s wrath against the Christian Nationalist heretics? I am an Agnostic, so I can pose a question like this. If it wasn’t, it was certainly a coincidence! The sky turned orange, Pat Robertson dies, and Trump gets indicted. Hmmmm! Makes you think…

#stephenjaymorris #poets on tumblr #american politics #anarchism #anarchopunk #anarchocommunism #baby boomers #anarcho punk #anarchoindividualist #anarcho syndicalism #anarchocapitalism #anarcho communism #anarcho nihilism

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glitchafton · 2 years

Text

The Vanny and William Logs Master Post.

In which I accidentally ended up creating a very selectively canon adjacent-ish AU that first developed a continuity, and then ended up becoming a whole weird little fic I didn’t intend it to become, but I still refuse to write it in order. So here’s the post that puts them in that order.

also I make no promises to quality or even internal consistency. There’s a reason I keep editing as I go.

Vanessa and the Long Hiring Process

You turned him into a collectable because you knew someone would be a completionst about the tapes didn’t you?

Log #1

In Which Agreements Are Made

Vanessa needs some answers still.

The Second Supervisor

When you successfully frame someone for murder don’t be surprised that the story stuck.

William Needs to Trauma Dump on Someone. Vanessa Needs Coffee.

Are you sure that this is even possible?

How much else was haunted exactly?

Believing vs Understanding

Malhare Unleashed

Breaking

Control.

Request for therapy notes

Possession. Again.

The Glitch of Damocles

Expanding the Rabbit’s Snare

Expanding the Rabbit’s Snare II: Sometimes things take time

She Just Has To Show Up

The Arcade Might Be Free At Least

The Arcade Was at Least Quite Good

Pop-up follow up question

Working Late and Ignoring Probable Crimes Committed

No talk of child murder before 11

It’s After 11.

You Date Luis

Causing Problems on accident

Moving House and Confessions of Part Arson

Stolen emails and multiple levels of concerns about this whole Pizzaplex concept (Major edit 27/7/22)

The 1980 Interview Commentary Vanessa didn’t ask for.

Birthday Cake Hatch!

The Mystery of Why Foxy is Being Phased Out

(Vaguely threatening) Flowers Sent to the Office

Vanessa once again is watching old videos. But with purpose.

William You’re Going in the Plushtrap because Vanessa’s Going Out of Town If You Like it Or Not.

Let’s not talk about past incidents on the company slack channel or The Return of Tape Girl

Remnant and it’s uses takes a lengthy power point, and Vanessa’s pretty sure she didn’t sign up for child murder

On background checks

Luis has further questions about Vanessa’s search history during work.

The Bag

Just a Simple Request (Major Edit #2: 12/1/23)

Plushtrap’s Potential Damage is (unfortunately for some) Quite Low

These flagged searches were actually normal.

Things Continue to Get Worse For Tape Girl

I want him dead.

Who Taught You How to Kill People? Here have a chart (more importantly, comic version by @starlit-mansion of original version) (Edit: 12/1/23)

Do I have to wear the mask for Luis? (Edit: 12/1/23)

That wasn’t a request.

The Animatronic Delivery Service’s Incredibly Smooth Launch Day

Progress Report: Not Great

vannycostumedesign.png

vannycostumedesign2.png or Vanessa an William have an impromptu design meeting

William have you ever considered you’re the problem? (Edited for continuity, 27/7/22)

Child Murder 101

Preparations

Enter the Pizzaplex

Chat with the CEO

Nightmares and Nepo-Zombie

Dayshift at The Pizzaplex Would Drive Anyone to Murder

Vanny is doing just fine. She’s not holding in a mental break down at all.

Vanessa vs The Blob

Let’s not sit in the inferno room

To Look Upon the Code of The Day Care Attendant is To See Into The Eyes of Madness

More People Should Like Clowns

But What Comes Next? (Minor Edit,8th Aug)

Unaccounted for Children

Chica and Roxy, Private Investigators

William, I’m going to need you to stop projecting onto the robots

Chica eats garbage.

He’s a little gremlin and I want to take him home (Heavy edit: 27/7/22)

The End is in Sight

Thoughts on Evan (Semi-heavy edit: 27/7/22)

#the vanny and william logs #none of them are good #but they sure exist and entertain me to toss into the universe #and I just keep going on this thing that was going to be a short joke #also the order is subject to change as I get deeper into and develop I better idea of what I'm doing with it

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eshuversal · 9 months

Note

" I can follow your God. I've heard about heyoka - give me a chance for redemption. " masato to frikk or anyone u think would fit /metaversals

✦. — GROVELING, ARE WE? In a PATHETIC display, Masato stood before the loyalty enforcer, BEGGING – no – PLEADING to be given a chance. How quaint. How BORING of him, to think he could earn Frikk's favor by LYING to his face. Didn't he know all terestrials are the same? A jovial snicker left the celestial's lips, but before he could utter a word in response the BOMBSHELL was dropped –

' HEYOKA '.

The titan's fool; a term he hadn't heard coined in THOUSANDS of years, by now. Anything the traitor said after that fell of deaf ears as he continued to dig himself FURTHER and DEEPER into this hole. What had started as a simple hunt turned into something much more personal to Frikk, for the crime Masato had committed was – in his own mind – irredeemable. One simply doesn't get to DEGRADE their deity like that and continue living.

Fox-like pupils dilated into slits, his tails flicked behind him; ❛ mortals like you are beyond redemption. ❜ The words were COLD and accompanied by a low growl. Despite the ever present smile he wore – there was nothing but MALICE in those eyes. Frikk didn't just want this terrestrial gone, he wanted him DEAD. Oh, but don't worry! Frikk isn't going to be the one to do the deed, he cares FAR too much about his well kept appearance for that. He'd let the bishops handle this, he was sure they'd take issue with Masato's transgressions as well.

Without skipping a beat, Frikk would grab hold of the magic cuffs that bound Masato and PULLED the man behind him in a feat of celestial-level strength. Strength that wouldn't seem possible, given Frikk's build and stature by comparison.

❛ Follow me - ! ❜ as if Masato had any say in the matter, ❛ if you'd like to prove me wrong, I have some friends you need to visit first, I PROMISE it'll be fast! It'll be over before you know it! ❜

@metaversals

#•. ✶ 「 threads┊frikk 」* . •#metaversals

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ardenssolis · 1 year

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@hembralfa said (inbox):

"we are here under the orders of Queen Leanne." the 'knight' holds up an official letter with none other than the false queen's insignia. "we've heard that a fugitive of York has been spotted in your castle and we request to see all of those whom you employ." the note documents how Leanne needed this woman back as she had committed crimes against York and it's people and it was due time she paid for them. "in one hours time we will come back, and we hope you have gotten everyone rounded up. all we need to do is see their faces. if the criminal is in your ranks we will take her back with us and you will be compensated as we are sure she's caused you issues given her... violent nature."

IT WAS INSTANT HOW he stood, how he towered from his throne and peered down upon the so-called knights that dared approach him in this manner. It was as if the temperature in the room had picked up a few degrees, and if anything, perhaps it had. ❝You dare…come to me like this? As if you have some authority here? As if your queen has authority here?❞ His voice was low, words spoken softly, yet the heat was there with each syllable that slipped past his lips. It was then that he slowly made his way down his the many steps to his throne, each clack of his sandals akin to a resounding boom in that quiet chamber. He did not step all the way down, however. That would denote equality and he wanted to make it quite clear that they were far, far beneath him. ❝I might have humored you originally, but for you to talk to me – to command me… The compensation I will accept is a finger to send back to your most exalted Queen as my definite answer to her sending hounds to sniff about my palace.❞

His words were law. His words an ORDER, not an idea – not a POTENTIALITY. He would take a finger from these men, and if they decided to fight, he would send their heads back instead. Leanne would learn her place, would be reminded that her reach stopped at his borders and would remain at the very edges. If she wanted to search for this ‘missing person’, then she best send individuals who held more diplomatic skill than two bumbling ‘knights’. And even then, Ozymandias might now allow it. This was his kingdom, and he would not have some pretender from another realm telling him what to do as if they were on the same level.

Laughable.

#[I was going to save this for later while I continue my #old meme quest but KJHFDKSFS I HAD TO REPLY]#hembralfa #;v: ???#;;au (fantasy)#answered #;;inbox

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mynameisemma · 2 years

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Okay this brainworm has been eating me since this morning so here it is:

I've never seen Dolokhov arranging the elopement as a sight that he cared deeply about Anatole mainly because the successful elopement would ruin his life for sure and Dolokhov is well aware of that. Anatole would end living abroad, most likely totally broke, with a girl who would come to hate him pretty soon after the elopement and her hatred would probably be mutual. Coming back to Russia would mean for Anatole to have face 1) a challenge from either Nikolai or Andrei and 2) problems with law. Serious ones (I highly doubt Vasily would be able to save his ass this time, with a noble girl involved, and also, Anatole (and Dolokhov) is canonically said to have committed enough crimes to have been sent into exile to Siberia if they were revealed. So yeah...). Dolokhov is well aware of all of that.

And yet he goes and gets them passports, finds a half of the sum an a priest to marry Anatole and Natasha, still well aware he's arranging the ruination of Anatole and Natasha's lives.

One could argue that Dolokhov tries in the end to talk Anatole out of this but I've always seen this as warning rather than any serious attempt to stop this burning train: Sonya, who is mirroring Dolokhov in this episode, watches Natasha very intently after their fight, guards the doors of her room and is ready to stop her by force if needed while Dolokhov is like "dude, don't do that, it's a bad idea actually" several times until Balaga arrives. But most interesting thing for me here is that Dolokhov described as amusing himself at Anatole's expence when he's warning him. This contrast between the character's and the author's words always seemed strange to me until I realized something.

I believe Dolokhov has this quite harsh "You deserve to get backfired by the stupid shit you done" philosophy. You can see it when Dolokhov cheers Pierre when he wants to repeat his windowsill bet (drunk, heavy and clumsy Pierre would certainly fall down and Dolokhov knew it; by the way, Anatole was the one who distracted Pierre back then) or when Pierre challenges him. You kinda see it here too but there's one nuance...

I think Dolokhov was actually offering him a chance to stop everything there when he was warning them. But Anatole, this man with maturity level of a preschooler, couldn't even comprehend what was happening there. And having known Anatole for many years, Dolokhov probably was aware of that too. In this light, him described as amusing himself at Anatole's expence hits different I guess.

I don't think Dolokhov didn't care about Anatole at all since he die save his ass in the end and besides they both participated in too much reckless shit to not develop some kind of bond, lol. I just really can't see them being deeply attached to each other or being ride-or-die for each other. In fact I think them being not really emotionally invested is what makes their relationship viable.

But the way all this was presented — Dolokhov being fully aware he's offering Anatole a choice he cannot understand and therefore cannot make and then proceeding to ruin his life after he refuses to stop; and the fact that he did offer him a choice because he did care for him to some extent but not enough to stop everything himself — low-key drives me crazy.

#war and peace #fyodor dolokhov #anatole kuragin #dolokhov being like: get in loser we're ruining your life #this is so fucked up i love it

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ma-lark-ey · 6 months

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Summarizing the Foxhole Court cast as artists I follow on Spotify and why (and with links to the artists/songs);

Neil;

Set It Off, thinks he’s so cool and edgy and for the most part he is but also there’s too much time where’s he’s a silly goose. Specifically, he’s Cinematics Era because yeah they have some emo bangers like Partners in Crime and I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead but also Dad’s Song is on that album as is Dream Catcher

Andrew;

Chase Petra. Intense, overwhelming, takes awhile to understand, either is super mellow and chill or the pop punk anthems are GOING. Particularly, Andrew reaks of Monet Issues and Soapy Water, but I also believe he could jive with Reliable Narrator, not to mention In An Emergency Such As The End Of The World

Kevin;

Noah Kahan. It's abut the complex relationship with where you grew up and having a deep, inescapable loving and loathing for that environment. You're Gonna Go Far is just so Kevin coded, and also recognizing you are simultaneously your problem and your solution, like Dial Drunk. And All My Love is just sooo Riko and Kevin (I mean, 'No winter coat could keep out the cold of your atmosphere // We once sang Retrograde, we'd shake the frame of your car // Now I know your name but now who you are')

Aaron;

Alec Benjamin. A lot of people find him unassuming and whatnot, but honestly he'd kind of devastating and we should be cautious. Particularly, Boy In The Bubble & Outrunning Karma I feel have a very fitting energy. My Mother's Eyes (Unreleased) also has something distinctly Aaron about it, as does The Knife In My Back (Unreleased)

Nicky;

The Moondivers. Similar genre feel to Chase Petra but has a more lo-fi undertones. Stays at a pretty level sixty but can go either direction pretty fast. Particularly, Lovely has very Nicky energy to, lacking commitment but also not lacking the love and the need for the person.

Wymack;

Fall Out Boy. Very gruff and rough and tumble on the surface and has that iconic emo energy, but under all of that harsh exterior there’s an underlying message of community and healing and acknowledging the depression and the darkness but also learning to heal. Things like Save Rock & Roll as well as The Kids Aren't All Right show that distinct want to improve and move on with life while we also have songs like My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark and So Much (For) Stardust keep us in that depressive state.

Dan;

Sabrina Carpenter. It took me awhile to figure this one out, but I think this is the one. Pretty much everyone knows who she is but doesn't realise just how much she's done. The energy of this low-level A-lister who everyone knows and respects at least a little bit, but doesn't have the public in the palm of her hand the way other women like Beyonce or Swift do. Also the vibes are entirely correct, she's in the car karaokeing this shit with Matt tell me I'm wrong. She's jamming out to Feather and Sue Me and Thumbs like it's nobody's business. The entire summary of emails i can't send just feels so Dan I can't explain it.

Renee;

Julian Moon. Has this softcore vibe about her, but it powerful and doesn't put up with a lot. Particularly, Siren Song I think fits Renee really well, and Pomegranate Seeds feels like something that'd be on her playlist. Savior matches her role amongst the Foxes (also the intense religious imagery in this song and this EP as a whole needed to be referenced).

Matt;

Placebo. It's glam rock but also not. It's kind of undefinable. You're not really sure what's going on with the music, but you know it's slaps. It's been around a long time and has it's own respect. tbch I don't know massive amounts of Placebo's stuff, mostly only know one album right now because I feel the need to completely dissect an album from an artist before I move on to the next one, but their cover of Running Up That Hill is fantastic. From their actual discography, I think Matt has the vibes/would enjoy Brick Shithouse, Pure Morning, and Burger Queen

Seth;

Eminem (YES I listen to Eminem unironically). He doesn't give a fuck what you think about him, he says a lot of shit he probably shouldn't say, but he's also got points sometimes. Without Me is playing in the background when he comes back in book one. Love The Way You Lie is him and Allison core. Just Lose It is just funny and something he'd listen too all the time. He'd also think he was cool and different for listening to him.

Allison;

Maisie Peters. As much feral crazy ex-girlfriend music as there is sad depression bops. Unpredictable in every measure. Is here for a good time not a long time. BSC is very Allison core, and I think History of Man as well. Boy also reeks of her and Seth's relationship, and Blonde is what she blasts in her bedroom to get ready in the morning.

Abby;

Kesha. She's got a history to her, she fits with the Foxes. She's one of this insane pack, but also she's working on helping fix this insane group. She cares abut their wellbeing, she wants the best. She's got the energy of Resentment, Learn To Let Go, but also she knows these are kids who are gonna do insane things, so let's through in Hymn and Raise Hell. She knows her role in the group, but also she'll stray out of it and test new things. Also, she has to be a bit crazy to be able to manage Andrew's lot.

okay thanks for coming to my tedtalk

#lark says

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meli-r · 2 years

Text

Colorful World, Ch. 19

Locations: Wattpad | AO3

“You wanted to see me.”

Unlike other inspectors, Yashiro stood before her as a woman stands with the most genuine innocence and a clear conscience. But she stood thus before a hostile presence, and Kasei Joushuu suddenly knew that no hatred could dwarf her.

“Yes, have a seat,” Kasei ordered.

“I’d rather stand, if you don’t mind,” she said in a calm, cordial tone.

“Please, I insist,” Kasei rose from her seat, making her way to one of the couches. “I have some matters to discuss with you, Inspector Takahashi. But first…”

As they sat on the black couches, facing each other, Kasei raised her right hand, pointing her wrist at her to determine Yashiro’s crime coefficient. She narrowed her gray eyes, peering at her over the frame of her glasses. It was 33. Yashiro’s reaction was a brief eyebrow waggle, but not because the chief disliked her low psycho pass, but because they had gone back to formalities. Both were sitting with one leg over the other, pointing in opposite directions, though Yashiro had her hands clasped together on her knee. Neither of them began to speak for a minute. As Kasei’s eyes studied her, Yashiro surveyed the large room, wondering who had been the architect who designed it.

“You went to see a former inspector,” Kasei spoke.

“Is it prohibited?”

“It’s unadvised.”

“I required his professional expertise.”

“And you would travel miles to see him when he can be easily replaced.”

“There is no substitute for competence.”

“I think I made myself clear saying that you would have to bring at least one enforcer with you.”

“When investigating a crime scene,” Yashiro lowered her head a bit. “Which is why I concluded that an enforcer was not necessary this time.”

“You came to that decision yourself without consulting your superior, hardly surprising since that’s what you always do. You have successfully closed cold cases since joining Division 2. However, the Public Safety Bureau is displeased with your methods. You make deliberate decisions on your own over and over again. Criminal profilers are rare these days. Whilst you are fully aware of the consequences of studying the psychology behind why certain serial killers, kidnappers and other violent offenders commit crimes, and what goes through their minds as they commit them, I need to know how you are holding up.”

“Good.”

“Your evaluations paint a different picture. Reckless, insubordinate—"

“I did not have time to ask for permission. Inspector Aoyanagi was not available at that time.”

“She was not available because we were just talking about you. Apparently, she put an inspector in a detention room with a suspect, letting her break two of his fingers and trigger a stress level warning in the building.”

“Two, huh?” Yashiro raised an eyebrow.

“Inspector Aoyanagi thinks I should sideline you before you crack.”

“I won’t. I have a personal stake in bringing Agawa in, but I won’t let it interfere with the job.”

“I hope so... because you've become a key player for him, so I can’t just kick you to the curb. I am sure you don’t want your actions to be... misinterpreted. Some have begun to wonder if we use discarded methods such as violence and torture when interrogating criminals. They are going to ask me if there is truth to it.”

“You’ll tell them no.”

“Will I be lying?” Kasei tilted her head, raising an eyebrow.

Yashiro sighed and looked up for a moment, then to the side, without moving her head.

“I will tell you anything you want to know, but there are certain disadvantages to that.”

“You willingly raised his crime coefficient to make him a target for enforcement action. Had the enforcer not stopped you, you would have succeeded. Either that, or you broke his hand as revenge so he can’t enjoy his stay in prison. However, even though he is a latent criminal, Sibyl did not consider him a serious threat at the time. You would have made an attempt on his life by raising his psycho pass, which is considered a crime as much as murder. Have you ever stopped to think about that?”

“I don’t recognize my action as a crime.”

“Is it necessary for me to point out that your recognition was not required?” Kasei’s voice echoed.

“I am fully aware of it, so I act accordingly.”

“This is unprecedented. Do you realize the possible consequences of your attitude?”

“Completely.”

“The punishment we have the power to impose upon you is extremely severe,” Kasei warned.

“Go ahead.”

“Excuse me?”

“Impose it.”

“You fool. What are you talking about?”

“I’m just so tired of the double standard,” Yashiro sighed.

“What double standard?” Kasei raised her voice. Narrowed, silver eyes looked at her impassively. “Watch it, girl. You may thank your biological structure and the high esteem in which certain people hold you, for having a chance to speak to us in the first place. Don’t overplay the hand that was dealt to you. Fortunes can quickly turn.”

There was no response.

“Now, the fact that you mentioned it clears up your doubts for me. Your overall rejection towards authority and the Sibyl System must go back to your childhood. You cared deeply about your father… no, your mother. When you read his crime coefficient, you expected it to be higher. After all, your mother did not get a second chance once she became a latent criminal herself,” Kasei paused for a long moment, studying her features and body language. “Given the chance to enjoy time alone with him in a room without scanners, wouldn’t you torture him with impunity?”

“No.”

“Because you know there are consequences.”

“I’m not like them,” Yashiro frowned, raising her voice a bit.

Kasei’s lips curved further up.

“Meyer Kane thought the same thing once. It was foretold that you would meet. He was a criminal profiler after all. I really hope… you don’t make the same mistakes he did.”

Yashiro did not answer.

“You were again driven by a moral authorization of your own… and you acted out with force,” she continued in a soft, clear voice, like a college professor lecturing, making her look away. “Why do criminals like Endo Seiji get the benefit of the doubt in your world… while others like Miyake Ren or Agawa Hajime don’t? Is it because of your connection to their childhood, their tales of solitude and manipulation, or is it because of their own motivations for killing? What criteria do you use to judge their crimes?”

“Endo Seiji did not kill innocent people.”

“None of them killed innocent people,” Kasei corrected her slowly, blinking and squinting her eyes as if giving her a closer look.

Yashiro’s eyes were much darker and dilated than before, with eyebrows drawn together.

“Where does your selective, sentimental view on crime come from?”

Yashiro’s lips parted for a few seconds and then closed tightly again.

“How is that related to the truth of your own? And how is that being rational and ethical, given you can’t practice what you preach?”

Yashiro looked absently at her fingers, which were still on her knee.

“Where does your hatred of society come from?”

“I don’t hate society,” Yashiro blinked and stared at her. “I hate everyone, including myself.”

“Your mother?” Kasei raised her chin a bit.

Yashiro barely turned her head to the side, pursing her lips, then slowly looked away.

“She must have meant so much to you,” observed Kasei.

“Everyone’s mother means a great deal to them.”

“Not everyone’s mother dies while her only daughter survives,” Kasei blurted out in a calm tone.

Yashiro looked at her, then fixed her gaze on the small table between them, her eyes slightly widened.

“That must have left you very angry… abandoned, alone. Anger is one of the most powerful emotions a person can experience, a natural defense against pain, and also part of human nature,” Kasei paused as she spoke, waiting for a response or a facial change on Yashiro’s face. “Were you a lonely child?”

“And you weren’t?” Yashiro raised an eyebrow with a thin smile. “Psychologically analyzing others is a lonely pastime.”

Kasei observed her for several seconds, with the same precise and curious eyes of someone examining an insect through a microscope.

“Tell me, how did it feel afterwards?” she continued, slowly and gently, giving her time to answer. “Guilt? Shame? Remorse? Fear? You must have felt guilt.”

“Why do we talk to the dead? They’re gone. After my sister died, I used to see her in my apartment. Kept talking to her for a while. People always try to make you feel better by saying they’re resting in peace, that they’re not gone. As long as we’re here, they’re here with us. But they’re wrong. They’re not resting nor at peace. They’re dead. They can’t be disturbed because they don’t exist. We exist. We live. And we will eventually die. Such is the fate of all living things.”

Yashiro's head was turned slightly to the side, with the memory of Touma Kouzaburou in her mind. She opened her eyes wider for a second, until she looked at the older woman again. Her eyebrows were slightly raised, her eyes very relaxed, and she had a thin smile.

“It doesn’t matter because she doesn’t exist anymore. If you think you can cloud my hue triggering that memory, you’ve miscalculated.”

“Is there a point in trying to cloud the psycho pass of someone who can keep it low all the time?” Kasei bluffed, but her gaze could not hide that she was serious. “While it has not yet been scientifically proven that crime coefficients are genetically inherited, it has not been disproved. You are a valuable exception.”

Yashiro’s smile faded and her left eye narrowed slightly for a second, before she looked away. Kasei got up from the couch and walked to her desk at the end of the room.

“You were due for an appointment with your therapist. This will no longer be necessary. You’re free to go.”

#psycho pass #kasei joshu #kasei joushuu #sibyl system #psycho pass fanfiction

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sm-entertain-me · 3 years

Text

“My Name” Masterlist

Welcome everyone to my Masterlist that is exclusively for the hit Netflix series “My Name”, starring Han Sohee, Park Heesoon, Ahn Bohyun, Chang Ryul, and Lee Hakjoo! I have become obsessed with the show and will be writing more on the Dongcheon side of things rather than for Pildo, but I will still write for him nonetheless! It’ll just be a little bit less frequent as I have some demons that need to be tended to due to Mujin, Gangjae, and Taeju’s characters in the series. Enjoy!

Last Updated: December 5th at 10:10 PM (PST). Most Recent: Wrong Place, Right Time (M), smut for Do Gangjae.

LEGEND: TBW - To be written. IN PROGRESS/NC - Not completed. TBR - To be Released, usually the next smut to be released. BOLDED - popular

Choi Mujin (Park Heesoon)

Vital Points (M) - While Jiwoo is away being the good little mole she can for Mujin, another prolific female joins the inner rankings of Dongcheon. Seeing how far she’s progressed in such a short time, Mujin arranges for some one on one time to test her training… and her resolve.

Sweet Relief (M) - In the short amount of time you had been in Dongcheon, you rose to the same level as Mujin’s most trusted henchmen, maybe even the same level as Taeju. You had seen Mujin at his lowest lows and his highest highs, but you often wonder how much of a toll it takes on him. Unable to face his demons alone anymore, Mujin turns to you for relief in more ways than one.

April Showers (M) - Long day of training means a long, steamy shower to get you all rested for tomorrow’s brawl. Your boss completely agrees and has to make sure you’re properly rested to give your best tomorrow, no matter what extracurricular activities it may contain

The Offer (M) - As a steadily improving drug lord in the streets of Seoul, it’s very important of you to get some protection to help grow your empire to new heights. Knowing how Dongcheon operates and how they’re known for having the most effective security details, you arrange a sit down with their dashing leader to make him an offer he can’t refuse.

Master and Apprentice (M) - It’s no secret that you and Gangjae are an item within the Dongcheon organization, but what happens when Mujin walks in on his two most talented recruits in the bedroom together? (feat. Gangjae)

Do Gangjae (Chang Ryul)

Money Talks (M) - You’re the most sought after dancer in the club, always getting suitors to beg you to come home with them in exchange for empty promises of marriage, riches, and everything your heart desires. You’ve heard every line in the book and we’re unimpressed with each attempt to say the least. Until one night when a new drug lord has eyes only for you and won’t take no for an answer.

Wrong Place, Right Time (M) - You knew you didn’t belong in a club like Mango’s, the type of people surrounding you being wanted for all kinds of crime that you couldn’t even fathom committing. But after the day you had, all you wanted to do was let loose and forget about reality for at least one night. You were sure at least something in this club would make you forget… or someone that is.

Jung Taeju (Lee Hakjoo)

Sworn Protector (M) - Being the daughter of a prolific drug lord wasn’t necessarily easy as you had many people try to kill you, men try to do unspeakable things to you, or steal money from you just because of your status. They all tried and never succeeded because Taeju was always there to protect you. After all these years, you never knew how to repay him, until one seemingly meaningless midnight conversation in your penthouse suite turns into something much more passionate.

Secret Service (M) [TBW] - As a member of Dongcheon, Taeju was forbidden from having an official relationship as Mujin believes it would distract him from his work. So when Mujin enters Taeju’s room unannounced to discuss their next plan of attack, he has to act quick to make sure you stay hidden from his watchful eyes.

Jeon Pildo (Ahn Bohyun)

A Night in Narcotics (M) - You had one simple job tonight and you let Mujin down by getting caught by Narcotics while transporting new product from the warehouses since you had pulled transport duty tonight. Now you were stuck in a holding cell, alone with the smug cop that was able to slide those handcuffs around your wrists. You wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk right off his face...

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rcksmith · 3 years

Text

Spring breeze — Spencer Reid

Sumarry: Spencer never thought about falling in love with someone, but he certainly didn't expect that he would fall in love with Gideon's daughter. — season 3 —

Part.2 Part.3 Part.4

A/N: I am marathoning Criminal Minds again and I can not express how much I loved the interaction of Gideon and Spencer!! So this idea came as an epiphany, and I love the conception of love at first sight. Maybe this becomes a serie...

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple:Spencer Reid/Gideon's daughter!reader.

Warnings: nothing, just very fluff.

— — — — —

Something was different. Maybe it was the way the sun's rays cascaded down in an atypical way, maybe it was the breeze that carried a more lyrical intonation on its back, or maybe it was just the Earth that was adorned by an ethereal veil. Spencer didn't know how to point out what was really different, but he felt in his soul that something in the hemisphere had changed.

At first, when he took the subway to work, Spencer thought it was just an ephemeral sensation, just like those seconds when you feel the breath of the breeze more cold. But it didn't. The sensation accompanied him to work, to the plane, to the case, it stuck to him like a tattoo and Reid found himself looking around for answers that did not exist physically.

He considered all the theories that were possible to explain that destabilization in his subtly balanced world. But he found none.

“Are you feeling anything different today?” That's what he asked Morgan.

Derek shrugged, finishing packing up at the police station so they could go back to Quantico.

“No.” Then he looked Reid whit his obsidian eyes “Is something bothering you? Is the Genie feeling any peturbation in the Force? ”

Spencer chuckled through his nose at the Star Wars joke, but just shook his head in a 'No'. And the conversation died there. How could he explain something that even he didn't understand?

Trying to ignore the way his heart was beating fast, for no reason, in anticipation of something Spencer himself was unaware of, he wondered how long he was going to have that sensation. The feeling of euphoria, the taste of something, there was something exciting in the air, almost angelic.

But how long was that going to accompany him? One day? One week? Whole life? For the first time, Spencer didn't have the answer. And that was disconcerting.

When BAU's glass doors opened for agents to settle on their desks and Hotch and Gideon go to their respective offeces, a wave of icy breeze from the DC air reverberated through the enclosure. Spencer can see that Morgan shrugged in the wind, Emily looke for a coat in the black suitcase, but his own body didn't seem to be hit by the same breeze. For Reid, it had been a caustic, lyrical, almost spring, wave that carried the promise of something extraordinary on back. Almost divine.

In that split second, in a time as short as a blink, the feeling that his life would never be the same made him losing his breath. Spencer does not know what attracted his gaze to the BAU door, nor what made his whole body turn in that direction, like a magnet, like a wanderer in the desert who finds his Oasis. But he had been attracted, and as soon as a female hand pushed through the glass door and her figure came into view, Spencer understood the extraordinary thing that him heart was beating for in anticipation.

You.

It was as if the universe had been preparing him all day for that moment. As if the body itself tried to prepare it. Because if Spencer hadn't fell those feelings of euphoria all day, he would have drowned in his own reactions to seeing you.

In a burst, like a violin string popping, Reid understood what was different about the hemisphere, because why the air was ethereal, because why the night felt like poetry, and why the moon whispered swears of love. In that moment, Spencer understood the mysteries of the world, unraveled the riddles of life, drank from the wisdom of The Oracle of ancient Greece. In an instant, watching you enter, Spencer understood the reason for his life.

In an instant.

The world shuddered in slow motion, capturing all your movements, all your graceful gait, all your glory. An elegant black dress with thin straps modeled your body in an arcane, almost divine way, your legs were supported on black high heels, making your walk seem like a glide of honey.

You were not beautiful. You are gorgeous. You shone. Sparkled.

And, like an atrocious wave that broke over Reid and pulled him into the sea, that whole feeling that stuck with him all day came to accompany the female figure. Following in your footsteps like the tail of a long dress.

Spencer was sure that his life would never be the same.

They hadn't even sat at their tables when you showed up. Like the muse that came out of an action movie. And when you got close enough to attract the attention of Emily and Morgan, whose Derek opened his mouth when he noticed the female figure that was the personification of Female Fatal, Spencer felt himself letting out the breath he didn't even know he was holding. He knew that anyone with eyes and a little common sense would notice how overwhelmingly beautiful you were, so when Morgan turned his body fully towards you, Reid was not surprised.

“Hi." Your voice, to Reid, had a floral intonation “Do you guys know where I can find Jason?”

When his eyes met yours, Spencer felt his breath being stolen from him once again. Usually, girls like you didn't look twice at guys like him, Spencer knew that. Girls like you liked men like Morgan. Athletes, strong, Alpha Male. And because of that, it was an explosion in Reid's system when you took a few seconds longer in that eye contact and a delightful smile appeared on yours lips. As if you appreciate what you were seeing.

That was a shock. Was it true or was he misinterpreting the signs? Was him mind playing tricks on him, like the flickering shadows of furniture under the darkness and the flame of a candle? Spencer would not be able to say a word without stuttering at that moment even that him life depended on it. In fact, he was already starting to feel cheeks heating up. So he thanked any deities that might exist when Morgan and Emily responded to you and broke the eye contact between the two of you.

“Jason Gideon?” Morgan frowned slightly.

“He's in the office but...” But Emily couldn't finish the sentence before Gideon's voice came out over everyone's:

“Y/n?” It was in a tone that no one there had ever heard in Gideon. A sweet, loving intonation... paternal.

None of the three agents present there had time to express their thoughts in facial expressions before you said:

“Dad!”

Then the whole world took a turn and seemed to be terrified, making them feel as if they had been thrown out of the tenth-floor window. This time, Reid's eyes widened at the two friends, who also had puzzled expressions. Everyone knew that Gideon had a past, probably with divorces and children, a life he had left behind, but no one expected...that.

Perhaps Gideon's vision of a family was something that was only in the imagination, never something tangible. Until that moment. Until the most beautiful girl Reid had ever seen was the daughter of one of the men he respected most. Until him heart soared at alarming levels for him boss's daughter. Spencer had been in trouble before when it came to matters of the heart, but the trouble gained a position in the top 3.

“What are you doing here?” A rare smile appeared on Gideon's face, his brow slightly furrowed.

“We were going to dinner today, remember? In that new Japanese restaurant.” Your tone of voice was not resentful or hurt by the situation that was explicit there.

The life of a BAU agent take many things, some with a more atrocious force than others, and one of them was the availability of hours. commitments that count on presence.

“I totally forgot, I'm sorry.” Gideon's voice was always calm and controlled, he managed to speak from the most tender emotions to the most heinous crimes with a peaceful intonation. But to perceive traces of parental love was new. “The case was very complicated, my cell phone died and...”

“It's okay, Dad.” You smiled, making a casual gesture with your hand “I thought this happened, but I thinking it best to come here to see if everything was okay instead of waiting until tomorrow.”

Your smile, despite being the simple one, was the brightest for Spencer.

Gideon still had a fatherly look and a chaste and grateful smile when he turned to the other agents who were still puzzled.

“Y/n, these are agents Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss and Dr. Spencer Reid.” Jason introduced them to you “Guys, this is my daughter, Y/n.”

“Is a pleasure.” You smiled genuinely at them.

“I had no idea that you had a daughter!” Emily gave a low, slightly bewildered laugh that also made you laugh.

“Everybody says that.” You looked at your father again, having fun.

“I'm just going to go over some reports with Hotcher before I leave.” Gideon kept a chaste smile. “Why don't you wait here and then let's go get something to eat?”

“Of course, no problem, Dad.” You agreed, adjusting the thin shoulder bag that was on your shoulder.

As Jason went up to Hotcher's office, you turned to the agents again, with a gentle smile on your face.

“My dad said great things about you.” Emily smiled at your statement.

"I'm still chocked ." She laughed, and Morgan added:

“ I really need to know...” he looked around, in a playful suspense “Is Gideon really that serious outside the FBI?”

You laughed “Oh no! Definitely not.”

So you reached for your phone in the litlle bag, hunting for a photo on it and showing it to the three agents. It was a recent photograph where you and Gideon had their faces painted in easy ink. You had a skeleton mouth made with white and black paint, and Jason had a pink glitter butterfly covering his left cheek. You two were laughing in the photo.

Morgan was the one who let out a loud, dripping laugh, with a few tears accumulating in the corners of his eyes.

“How is this possible?” Morgan was trying to catch the air.

“It was at the last Halloween, he and I bet that whoever lost in the snooker that day would have to paint a butterfly on their face.” You laughed.

“And did he lose?” Spencer found a voice for it, his mind failing to process the image of Gideon losing any game.

“I have my suspicions that he let me win” You joked “But I enjoyed the victory just the same.”

The conversation was light after that, Spencer refrained from much of the dialogue, a little fearful that you could hear him heart beating loudly whenever you smile in his direction. As the minutes passed, Derek and Emily had to go back to their duties and finish their reports, while you were sitting in one of the chairs at an empty table.

It was one of those moments when Reid tried to focus on the files in front of him to exorcise what was going on around him. Paperwork had always brought the lull needed to make Spencer meditate. It was almost like relaxation. But in moments like this, when something in the environment around him pulled his attention so much, he stayed on the same page for long minutes.

That must be why he didn't hear the wheels on your chair approach, and he didn't even notice that you were so close until you said:

“Are you really a doctor?” Your voice was low, soft, as if you didn't want to disturb the other agents who were working.

Spencer turned his head towards you, only to find the modern personification of what would be the Athena de Troia. You were close, not close enough to touch, but close enough that he could smell your perfume. You smelled like the night, the excitement of nights and the brightness of the stars. And if Spencer looked deeper into yours eyes, he would sure they contained shine moonlight.

He swallowed, the mania for blinking compulsively returning a little.

“A-ahm yes. Not really a doctor, but m-my 3 Phd’s make me a doctor.”

He might be mistaken, but the smile that spread across your face was not just friendly, it wasn't curious, it was… delighted. As if the roles were reversed and he was the most fascinating thing in that room, not you.

The glow that was adorned in yours eyes had something lyrical, ethereal, wonderful. As if the brightness of all the galaxies were inhabiting your irises, moving in your orbit. At that moment, Spencer was deeply grateful to have eidetic memory, because 10 years from now he could still remember how you looked like a muse over there. DC night came in through the big glass windows, and if Reid had to describe that moment with the five senses, he would say that the world had turned the light down to a rose tone, the smell was heaven and your smile promised to contain wonders of the world.

Holy Mother of God, you are so, so beautiful!

“My dad said there was a genius on the team.” You said, your attention on him is always tender, adoreble. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

Your perfume invaded him sense of smell once again, and he felt his heart beat faster once more. Spencer would have told you all the secrets in the world if you asked. He would have told all own secrets.

“No way.” He sat back in his chair to look at you better, oblivious to the exchange of looks that Emily and Morgan gave.

You rested your arms on Spencer's table, the chair next to his.

“You never thought of being like... the wizard Doctor Strange?” You hoped that Spencer knew Marvel “Before he was a magician, of course. But why didn't you want to be a surgeon or something?” You laughed “There is a phrase him says: I have a photographic memory and this is what made me ..."

“ ‘Get my diploma and doctorate at the same time’ " Spencer completed you, laughing softly “I know the HQs. Did you know that the Doctor Strange character was created during the Silver Age of American comics to bring a different type of character and mystical themes to Marvel Comics? It him has an intellectual coefficient close to 177 points and I have… ”

The more he rambled, the more a stunning smile spread across your face. As if you were enchanted with him. And you were. Everyone was noticing the way Spencer seemed to have you curled up on his finger, your eyes sparkling and a silly smile twinkling on your face, paying attention to every word he said. It was an overwhelmingly lovely sight to behold.

But just as everything had a time, an hourglass, your time had reached the last grain of sand.

“All right, Y/n.” Gideon went down the stairs, cutting the end of Reid's sentence “Ready?”

You stood up, agreeing with your father and smoothing the dress. When you put your hands on the chair, ready to take it back to place, you turned to Spencer once again:

“I'm going to bring my dad to BAU tomorrow, do you think me and you can meting and you give me the answer to the question tomorrow?” Your smile was able to light up the whole of Washington.

“S-sure!” Spencer's voice went up more high notes than he would like to admit.

And, even when you left, even when Morgan and Emily jokes him about it, and even when he finally lay down on his own bed, you were still the only thing that occupied Spencer's mind.

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